“I would never—”
“I made a promise.”
“A promise drawn from you under duress?” Desjani almost shouted. “And you think I’d hold you to that?”
He felt his own temper rising again. “What makes you think I need to be held to it?”
“I didn’t mean to offend your honor—”
“This has nothing to do with my honor!”
“Then you’re an idiot!”
He stared at Desjani, who seemed shocked that those words had come from her own mouth. “What are you saying?”
“I don’t know.” She swallowed, shaking her head. “I do know that for you to give up something so important—”
“I know what’s important, Tanya.”
She stepped back. “Maybe it’s a sign. Maybe we’re being told this is wrong. We know it’s wrong. Against regulations, against honor—”
“We’ve done and said nothing against either regulations or honor.”
Desjani’s eyes bored into his. “We have in our hearts.” Her jaw tightened. “No one is that important. No one could demand such a sacrifice from another and be comfortable with it.” She straightened to attention once more. “By your leave, sir. The crew will want to stage a formal ceremony for your promotion. I hope that will be acceptable.”
He nodded, feeling immensely tired. “Yes, Captain Desjani. Thank you.”
She left, and he sank into the nearest seat, his dress uniform rumpling.
Compared to trying to deal with Alliance politicians, crushing the Syndics should be a piece of cake, and compared to trying to understand Captain Tanya Desjani, figuring out what the aliens wanted should be easy.
THREE
Admiral Timbale’s image saluted awkwardly. To Geary’s surprise, even such a senior officer seemed to take pleasure in the gesture of respect Geary had reintroduced into the fleet. “We can’t provide you with as many fast fleet auxiliaries as we’d like for a mission this deep into enemy territory. Bloch started out with ten, which was almost all we had then. You inherited four, and how you managed to get three of them back here in one piece I’ll never know. You’ll retain Titan, Witch, and Jinn. Tanuki and Alchemist have been ordered to Varandal and should be here soon. You’ll have them both.”
“Five is better than three. Thank you, sir.” He checked his own data, seeing that Tanuki was the same class as Titan, while Alchemist was a sister ship to the smaller Witch and Jinn.
“We’ll give you what additional firepower we can,” Timbale continued. “There are five new-construction battle cruisers on the way, all part of the new Adroit class.”
“I’m sure they’ll come in handy.” Geary read the names.
Adroit, Auspice, Assert, Agile, and Ascendant. Brand-new ships, brand-new crews, probably only a smattering of veterans among them. He constantly had to remind himself that losses in the war had become so routinely awful that veteran crews were a rare exception. Or had been. He had kept most of his ships and their crews alive to apply their experience to future engagements.
“You’ll also get a new Invincible,” Timbale added. “She was just finishing trials when you got back and confirmed the loss of the old Invincible, so her temporary name was made permanent.”
The irony of having a new Invincible to replace an older, destroyed Invincible didn’t escape Geary. He didn’t comment on it outwardly, but Timbale must have seen something.
The admiral gave a crooked smile. “You may not be aware that Invincible is regarded as a bad-luck name in the fleet. Ships named Invincible tend to get destroyed quickly. No one knows why. The sailors blame it on the name being a too-proud challenge to the living stars.”
“But we keep naming ships Invincible anyway?”
“I think the fleet bureaucracy is determined to eventually disprove the curse no matter how many Invincibles we lose in the process,” Timbale suggested dryly.
Geary made a face. “Before the fight at Grendel, there was talk about naming ships after planets or people.”
“It still comes up occasionally. Every time it gets shot down because no one can agree on a formula for choosing which planets and people get the honors. Too damn much hate and discontent get raised over that issue, so we always fall back on naming battleships and battle cruisers after qualities and attributes, which everyone can pretend we all agree on.” Timbale shrugged. “So the five Adroits and the latest Invincible plus Intemperate and Insistent are your new battle cruisers. Then there are the battleships,” Timbale concluded. “You’ve already got Dreadnaught and Dependable. Resound, Sustain, and Encroach are on their way. Besides those major combatants, you’ll have a total of twelve new heavy cruisers, ten more light cruisers, and nineteen destroyers.” The admiral gave Geary an apologetic look. “The grand council wants to keep a lot of destroyers here to act as scouts and couriers.”
“That’s all right. I’m grateful for everything being added to the fleet,” Geary assured him.
“Is there anything else? Anything at all?”
Geary studied his fleet status display, then shrugged. “Nothing I can ask for in good conscience. The Alliance is giving me an awful lot of what it has left.”
Admiral Timbale nodded. “I only wish we had more repair capability here.” He hesitated. “Fleet Admiral Geary, there’s been something I’ve been meaning to say. When you arrived in this star system, you could’ve squashed me. You could’ve been arrogant, and you could’ve walked all over me in front of the universe. But you didn’t. You treated me with all the courtesy and respect your superior officer could have asked for. That’s why I am happy to serve under you now. Thank you.”
The praise made Geary uncomfortable, as did the naming of his still-new rank, but he just smiled back at the other officer. “That was only my duty, Admiral Timbale.”
“You had a choice,” Timbale disagreed. “When does the fleet leave?”
“Two more days if those additional ships are here by then.”
“They should be.”
After Timbale’s image had vanished, Geary turned back to his fleet status display. A tremendous amount of repair work had been done, with the extensive facilities at Varandal working around the clock, but there had also been a tremendous amount of damage to the fleet’s ships.
Still, the battle cruiser Incredible had lived up to her name, somehow getting back into shape for combat despite the awful damage suffered in battles on the way home. Inspire, under the command of Captain Duellos, had also returned to full combat capability, even though not all of the repairs would have passed fleet inspections, and Duellos reported that much of Inspire’s crew remained slightly shell-shocked from what had become of their former command officer. It was one thing for a captain to die in battle and another thing entirely to lose a captain because of treason.
Other battleships and battle cruisers had either regained almost full capability, or enough to accompany the fleet once again. Given enough resources, any ship could be patched together again as long as it hadn’t been blown to pieces, and Varandal and the surrounding star systems had poured everything they had into the repair effort.
Geary frowned as his eye rested on the name of Orion. That battleship’s performance had been nothing but disappointing while she was commanded by Captain Numos and ever since as well. His plans to break up her crew and recrew the ship had been stymied by all the problems that would have created in reassigning so many fleet personnel while everyone was scrambling to get their ships back into shape.
He wondered what the captains of the new ships would be like, how much retraining they might need to fight with the rest of the fleet’s ships. Following that line of thought, he brought up data on the new battle cruisers, wondering what the Adroit class was like. Scanning the information, Geary felt like punching the virtual display. Under the guise of producing a new class of ships, the Alliance had reduced their size and capabilities as well as their cost. The Adroit-class ships were shorter and massed less than Dauntless and her sister sh
ips, they carried fewer hell lances in fewer batteries, and fewer specter missiles, grapeshot, and mines. At least their propulsion capability seemed to match the older battle cruisers’.
Unhappily reading over the differences in the new ships, Geary had a deeper understanding of why the fleet was so unhappy with the government. Even though he knew how badly stressed the Alliance was by the cost and resources demanded by the war, he still felt angry at the diminished capability of the Adroit-class ships.
But he had learned by now that he had to fight with what was available. Five more battle cruisers of lesser capability were still five more battle cruisers.
Geary looked up as the alert on his stateroom hatch sounded. “Come in.”
The hatch almost flew open, and Tanya Desjani stormed in, a thundercloud on her forehead.
Leaping to his feet, Geary stood as she slammed the hatch shut and stalked to stand directly in front of him. “What’s the matter?”
“That woman! That politician! She brought a Syndic aboard this ship without notifying me!”
Geary felt a familiar headache beginning. “Why did Rione bring a Syndic aboard this ship?”
“She didn’t deign to inform me!” Desjani was as angry as he’d ever seen her, incensed at the disregard of her prerogatives as commanding officer of Dauntless. “I respectfully request, Fleet Admiral Geary, that you intervene in this matter since the senator is not under my command!”
He had a million things he needed to be doing at that moment. Given the bad blood between them, he could guess why Rione had failed to tell Desjani, but why had Rione also not told him? Geary was reaching to call her when his hatch alert chimed again. “Come in.”
Co-President Rione entered, appearing oblivious to Desjani’s glower. “Oh, good, you’re both here. I wanted to inform the captain that there was a last-minute high-priority prisoner diversion. My apologies for not getting that information to you sooner.”
Desjani spoke with obviously forced control. “Madam Co-President, I am supposed to be informed and give my approval before any prisoners are transferred on or off this ship.”
“It was, as I said, last-minute. I had to make a snap decision to keep the Syndic from being sent on to the prison ship taking the others to the camp at Tartarus.”
Breaking in before Desjani could erupt again, Geary spoke to Rione. “What’s so special about this Syndic?”
“He wants to talk to you.”
Geary glared at Rione. “There’s a billion somebodies who want to talk to me. What’s so special about this Syndic?”
She gazed back dispassionately. “He’s the CEO who was the second in command of the Syndic reserve flotilla, captured by us after his ship was destroyed in the battle here.”
“He is?” Geary’s anger drained as he considered that. “Why does he want to talk to me?”
Rione leaned back against the nearest bulkhead, crossing her arms. “He says he wants to make a deal.”
“A deal.” His limited experience with Syndic CEOs had left Geary with a bad taste in his mouth, but on the other hand, there were a couple of them who had acted honorably.
Desjani, whose opinions of Syndics and their trustworthiness rarely rose higher than the tiniest possible increment above absolute zero, kept her glower. “What kind of deal?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Rione asked. “As a high-ranking officer in the reserve flotilla, he probably knows as much about the aliens as any Syndic outside their Executive Council. He wants to trade that knowledge for something.”
Geary gave Rione a skeptical look. “What’s he like?”
“I don’t know enough to give you an assessment.”
“But you think I should talk to him.”
Rione rolled her eyes. “Yes, Black Jack. Talk to the man.”
“Fleet Admiral Geary,” Desjani said in a tight voice, “I recommend caution in dealing with an enemy who has nothing to lose.”
Without waiting for Geary’s reply, Rione nodded seriously to Desjani. “I concur. Would you agree to accompany us to the interrogation, Captain?”
Desjani shot a suspicious glance at Rione over her courteous words, but nodded. “Thank you.”
Geary paused to grab some painkiller for his headache, then headed for the hatch. “Let’s go.”
The Syndic had been taken to the interrogation rooms in the intelligence section, rooms whose systems could remotely monitor everything going on inside and outside any person seated within. Geary took a moment to review what was known of the Syndic CEO. Name—Jason Boyens. Rank—Third-Level CEO. Last-known assignment—second in command in a flotilla. Except for the name, it told him nothing new at all. “All right. Let’s get this over with.” Geary glanced over at Desjani and saw her face still set with barely controlled anger. “What?”
“I’m just recalling the last Syndic turncoat who offered us a deal, sir,” she answered in a harsh voice. “He had a Syndic hypernet key we could use to reach the Syndic home star system.”
“Oh.” That sounded stupid as well as inadequate. “Wasn’t that guy ever questioned in an interrogation room?” He’d never felt any desire to learn more about the events that had led to the fleet’s near destruction.
Rione answered, her own gaze fixed on the readouts. “He was. Either he was incredibly gifted at deceptive answers so subtly rendered that we couldn’t see the truth, or he was himself duped by the Syndics and didn’t realize the role he was playing for them.”
“Whatever happened to him? I’ve assumed the ship he was on was destroyed in the Syndic ambush.”
Rione didn’t answer, but her eyes flicked meaningfully toward Desjani.
Desjani’s own expression took on a stony cast. “He was aboard Dauntless, sir.”
“Then what—?” He choked off the question, knowing what the answer had to be. The fleet he’d assumed command of hadn’t had any compunction about killing prisoners of war. It wasn’t hard to figure out what had happened to a Syndic who had double-crossed that fleet once it became clear that his offer had actually been a trap.
But Desjani answered anyway. “He was executed on the spot per orders from Admiral Bloch,” she said in a toneless voice. “The spot in question being three meters behind and one-half meter to the left of the fleet commander’s seat on the bridge.”
It took Geary a moment to get it. “He was sitting in the observer’s seat?” He couldn’t help looking at Rione, who had customarily used that same seat ever since Geary had assumed command, but she seemed both unsurprised and unmoved by the news.
“We burned the seat cushions,” Desjani added. “The bloodstains would’ve come out, but nobody wanted to use them again.” She paused at whatever she saw in Geary’s eyes. “No, sir. I was busy trying to fight my ship through the ambush. The execution was carried out by the Marine guarding the traitor.”
He looked away for a moment. “It was a lawful order. I couldn’t have blamed you if you had carried it out.” It wasn’t hard to remember the shell-shocked expressions of the crew after the Syndic ambush, how badly they’d been stressed by the sudden loss of so many of their sister ships in the fleet. None of them would have hesitated for a moment to take revenge on an individual in great part responsible for that. “We won’t let this Syndic do the same.”
“We can’t trust him,” Desjani repeated.
“I have no intention of trusting him.” Desjani seemed slightly mollified by Geary’s words, so he turned and walked into the interrogation room while Desjani and Rione remained behind, along with the intelligence personnel, to watch the monitors.
CEO Boyens stood up when Geary entered the room. He looked nervous, which was understandable. One leg was still in a light flex cast, revealing battle injuries that hadn’t quite healed. The CEO hesitated at the sight of Geary’s insignia. “Admiral Geary?”
“Yes.” Geary kept his voice hard. “What’s the deal you want?”
The Syndic took a deep breath before speaking again. “I have information you need. I
n exchange for it, I want your agreement to defend human space against the aliens.”
He took a moment to absorb that. “You’re the first Syndic to openly admit they exist, and you want us to commit to protecting the Syndicate Worlds from them?”
“Yes.”He’s telling the truth so far, Lieutenant Iger’s voice whispered to Geary through the comm link.
On the heels of Iger came Rione’s voice. How much does he really know?
That was a good question. Geary frowned at the Syndic CEO. “How do I know that you know all that much?”
Boyens smiled crookedly. “I’ve been second in command of the reserve flotilla for ten years. I know as much as our Executive Council told anyone and as much as I could personally observe.”Ten years? Desjani’s voice demanded.
Geary understood her question. “That’s a very long time for anyone to serve in any assignment. Why were you there that long?”
This time Boyens shrugged. “I was exiled to that assignment, for want of a better word. I’m an engineer by training, and I’d established a promising start-up company. A much-bigger corporation wanted our business, and the CEOs running that corporation had the ears of the CEOs running the Syndicate Worlds. My company got taken from me. Instead of being smart and lying low while I worked my way up the CEO ladder until I could exact revenge in a few decades, I made a fuss over it, citing the Syndicate Worlds’ laws that had been ignored. Before I knew it, I’d been ordered to a position in the reserve flotilla.” The CEO shrugged again. “An assignment out on a border far from any chance for advancement. I couldn’t even tell anyone why I was really there since officially the reserve flotilla only existed as a backup against the Alliance. I also couldn’t get transferred out, thanks to the people I’d ticked off earlier.”It all reads out as truthful, Iger advised.
Geary sat down and leaned back slightly, eyeing Boyens. “And now you want the Alliance fleet to help you get revenge against those people?”
The CEO shook his head. “No. That’s not what this is about. Those people are part of a ruling group that has driven the Syndicate Worlds into this war and fumbled its execution time and again. I don’t expect you to believe me when I say this, but I’m also motivated by a desire to protect my own home from the corruption and idiocy of the people who’ve been leading the Syndicate Worlds.”
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