Drakon paused, his eyes looking outward as if he could actually see Geary. “I’m glad we never met in battle during the war, Admiral. I’m not at all sure I would have survived that experience, though I would have given you the fight of your life before it was over. For the people, Drakon, out.”
Geary replayed that last part again, listening intently. General Drakon didn’t put the enthusiastic lilt to the “for the people” phrase that Kommodor Marphissa had, but there was nonetheless something more than an automatic use of a meaningless phrase there. Geary thought he sensed a defiance, a determination, as if Drakon was actually willing to defend the ideals behind that saying, ideals long since forgotten by the Syndicate Worlds’ government, if they had ever held any real substance at all to most Syndic leaders.
He turned back to the attachment. A message from one of the former Syndic officers to one of Geary’s officers? He knew who it would be addressed to before he looked at it. Captain Bradamont.
There were difficult things he had to do as an officer, as a fleet commander, but reading a personal message between two people felt like one of the most unpleasant obligations he faced. Wincing inwardly, Geary opened the attachment, knowing that the fleet’s firewalls and security software would have already checked it for dangerous content.
Colonel Rogero wore a uniform similar to General Drakon’s. He seemed as straightforward as his general though speaking steadily as if reciting from a script or prepared speech. “For Captain Bradamont, commanding officer of the Alliance battle cruiser Dragon, this is Colonel Rogero, Midway ground forces. Much has happened in recent months.”
Rogero provided a careful rundown of those events, giving details about activity not only here at Midway but also in some of the surrounding star systems. There had been fighting in many places, revolts and Syndic attempts to suppress rebellion. Midway had gotten heavily involved in those nearby star systems, plainly aiming for a leading role in . . . what? A small personal empire for Iceni and Drakon? Or, at the other extreme, a small alliance of free star systems? That last seemed very unlikely, but if it were true . . .
If only he knew more about Iceni and Drakon.
Rogero must have known that this message would be seen by people other than Bradamont. Drakon and Iceni must have known that, too. This was, then, not just a personal accommodation for Rogero but also a means to pass information to Geary under the cover of that.
Which also meant that Rogero’s and Bradamont’s personal feelings for each other were still being used by those in authority over them. Perhaps, to former Syndic CEOs like Drakon and Iceni, that was a matter of no consequence. But Geary felt a little unclean despite his own lack of involvement.
Colonel Rogero paused, his carefully controlled manner cracking. “Captain Bradamont . . . I must inform you that . . . my feelings will never change. That is why I must ask you to forget me, because it is impossible and can only harm you. I am now free of the forces that sought to use our feelings for their own purposes. I hope that, with the end of the war, you are free as well. But, if not, you may inform those people that I will provide no more reports. You can no longer serve them as a source of information. You have acted as a patriot and noble person at all times, and I will freely offer a detailed, official statement to anyone who questions your role over the last several years.
“Farewell, Captain Bradamont.”
Geary sat back, one hand rubbing his forehead lightly. What Rogero had said confirmed what Bradamont had told him and what Lieutenant Iger had partially confirmed as well. As far as Geary knew, though, Iger wasn’t aware that Bradamont was the officer who had been working for Alliance intelligence under the code name White Witch as part of a highly classified program. Once Iger saw this message, that particular rabbit would be out of the hat for certain.
“Captain Bradamont, I need to speak with you privately as soon as possible.”
Her image appeared to him within minutes, standing at attention. Dragon was close enough to Dauntless that only a little more than a light-second’s delay affected their communications, a lag too small to notice.
“Captain Bradamont,” Geary began, feeling awkward. “This is both a personal and a professional matter. Please sit down.”
Bradamont sat stiffly, watching him warily. “Does this pertain to the matter we discussed some time ago?”
“Everything surrounding White Witch, yes.” Geary offered her his comm pad, putting it on the arm of her seat and activating the message. “This message is for you, even though parts of it were also clearly intended for other people here.”
She listened while he tried not to watch her reaction. Finally, Bradamont reached as if to turn off the pad, forgetting that her virtual presence couldn’t do that, then withdrew her arm, her expression now revealing nothing. “Thank you, Admiral.”
He shut it off. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”
“I’ve already informed you of the circumstances, Admiral.”
“Do you have any wishes in this matter? At the very least, I can ensure that a reply is sent, in whatever form you choose.”
“A reply.” Bradamont shook her head. “What can I say? He’s right. It must end. It has ended. Neither of us can be used anymore. The contents of that message will alert the fleet’s intelligence personnel as to who I must be. I’ll have to live with that. I’ve lived with worse things. I must live without him.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know you are, Admiral. I don’t know why this had to happen. I didn’t ask for it. I know that you can understand.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
Bradamont’s smile was bitter. “Not even Black Jack can solve this matter, Admiral. Why the hell—” Bradamont stopped speaking. “Pardon me, sir.”
“Forget it. I’m going to wait awhile before I forward this attachment to intelligence or show it to anyone else. If you want to talk, call me.”
“Yes, Admiral.” Bradamont came to attention again. “Thank you.”
Barely half an hour later his hatch alert chimed. “Come in.”
Rione entered, walking in as if she owned the place, went to a seat, and dropped into it. “I had a thought that I wished to share,” she began.
He watched her warily, wondering why Rione seemed so casually cheerful. She hadn’t acted that way since she had rejoined the fleet at the start of this mission. “And what would that be?”
“Wouldn’t it be of great benefit to the Alliance to have an officer assigned to duty here long term? In this star system? What do you call it, a liaison officer?”
Now what was Rione up to? “A liaison officer. Left here.”
“Right.” Rione paused as if thinking. “Of course, that officer would have to be relatively senior given the importance of the assignment, and given the suspicions between our people and those here, it would be very helpful if she already had some sort of liaison among them.”
“Liaison?”
“A personal relationship. Perhaps with one of their officers. I know that’s a crazy idea, but—”
“How the hell did you break into my conferencing software this time?” Geary demanded.
“In any event,” Rione continued, as if he hadn’t spoken, “you’d have to find someone willing to accept official orders to remain here. Someone who knows the Syndics well enough to spot some of their tricks because even though these Syndics have changed their spots, they still doubtless play the same games.”
“Official orders?” Was she actually helping?
“The Alliance needs someone to keep an eye on things,” Rione said, studying her fingernails as she spoke. “Someone who can offer guidance to these people on proper military and governmental relationships. Someone who can perhaps suggest democratic reforms.” She cocked her head sideways as if a thought had just occurred to her. “Perhaps even a little advice on how to fight battles if the defenders of this star system needed it.”
“You’re suggesting the perfect solution to both my prob
lem for offering support to this star system, and to Captain Bradamont’s personal problem. Why?”
Rione frowned in thought. “It could be my inner compassionate nature asserting itself.”
“It doesn’t do that very often,” Geary observed. “Especially not lately.”
“Then maybe my inner bitch, which doesn’t differ too much from my outer bitch, wants to ruin the plans of certain parties back in Alliance space.” Rione met his eyes. “A fleet officer who communicated with the enemy after she was liberated from being a Syndic prisoner of war? Who passed information to the enemy? To an enemy officer for whom she had personal feelings? Think of the possibilities if a leak of that information was threatened.”
Geary leaned toward her, his voice hardening as he spoke. “If you’re aware of that much, then you also know that those communications were at the orders of military intelligence to pass false information to the Syndics.”
“Yes, Admiral, I know that, too. I also know that people can be blackmailed, especially if the matter involved is classified so that those who actually know extenuating information aren’t allowed to speak.”
He sat back, wondering that he could still be shocked. “Someone is blackmailing Bradamont? You know that?”
“Yes. I do know,” Rione replied in a low voice, her eyes on her fingernails again. “Or, rather, someone is prepared to blackmail her. It’s all ready to go. Hints have been dropped to Bradamont, vague warnings of what might happen if certain things became widely known.”
That explained some of the stress he had seen in Bradamont. “Why?”
“To force her to spy again, this time against someone other than the Syndics, someone who might occupy this very stateroom, and perhaps even to force her into actions that she would not otherwise ever agree to.”
Geary had to pause awhile to absorb that, then to fight down the anger that arose inside him at the thought of such tactics. “Captain Bradamont was given command of Dragon before I was found.”
Rione raised one eyebrow toward him. “Do you think that you’re the only possible target of such spying and sabotage? The virtue of such a weapon put into place is that it can be employed against whatever target is deemed necessary. If you had never been found, and if Admiral Bloch had lived, he would have been the target.”
“And what would have happened to the weapon?”
“Weapons, by their nature,” Rione said, “are expendable.” Her tone of voice, flat and hard, made it clear what she thought of such an approach.
“If I judge Bradamont right, she wouldn’t give in to that blackmail,” Geary said.
“And you’d lose a battle cruiser commander.”
“One way or the other.” Recalled by the government, ordered relieved of command by fleet staff until the “allegations” were investigated, charges leaked to the media so that her name was dragged through the mud, perhaps even driven to an “honorable” suicide by the contempt and anger of her fellow officers. “You’re not just helping Captain Bradamont’s love life. You’re saving her life and her honor.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Rione said. “I’m protecting the Alliance and my own interests. Any collateral impact on this Bradamont person is purely coincidental.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”
“For whatever reason, those involved didn’t try to employ her before you left Varandal. Once we left Alliance space, there couldn’t have been any attempt to blackmail her into cooperation without my knowledge.”
That was important information. “Some of these people are within the fleet?”
“I don’t know for certain. I do know that I haven’t heard from them. You . . . have guessed that I’m being blackmailed to do certain things, and that I’m doing them only to the extent I must and not in any way that will actually threaten you or the Alliance. Draw your own conclusions. If this Bradamont had received the blackmail threat while we were outside of Alliance space, I would have known, and you would have heard about it then. Contrary to popular belief, there are methods that I will not countenance.”
He couldn’t help smiling at her. “And, contrary to popular belief, you do have a heart.”
“That is a lie, Admiral. I would thank you not to spread it though I doubt anyone would believe you if you tried.” Rione stood up. “If my husband recovers, it will be thanks to you. Do you think me so cold that I would not be aware of the debt I owe you for that? Call Bradamont, offer her the position. I guarantee you that both of the Emissaries of the Alliance government will approve of the posting of a liaison officer here, which truly is in the interests of the Alliance.”
She left without saying anything else, the hatch sealing in her wake.
Geary thought about it for another five minutes, then reached for his comm panel. “Captain Bradamont. I must speak with you privately again.” He would make the offer, and if she accepted, everyone would win. Everyone except those who sought to use blackmail, and they never deserved to win.
IT took a while, but this time Boyens responded to their message. His smile was still present and not quite sincere-looking, but also definitely strained. “I am very sorry to have to remind Admiral Geary and the representatives of the Alliance government that the treaty between your government and the government of the Syndicate Worlds authorizes your ships to travel to and from Midway Star System. It does not authorize or allow the movement of ships belonging to other governments or . . . species. There is an alien warship with you. That is not an Alliance vessel, and it is not covered by the treaty. In light of my responsibilities as a citizen of the Syndicate Worlds, I must insist that you bring any craft belonging to anyone other than the Alliance to Prime, where my government can decide on the appropriate disposition of those craft.
“My flotilla will remain in place near the hypernet gate. It would be a tragedy if something should happen to that gate as a result of negligence or aggression.
“For the people, Boyens, out.”
“Does he actually think we’d hand over the spider-wolf delegation and the bear-cow superbattleship to the Syndicate Worlds?” Charban asked with astonishment.
“It’s called diplomacy,” Rione said. “He’s making an outrageous demand hoping that we will compromise with a deal that still grants the Syndicate Worlds something. And, as I thought, he is trying to hold the hypernet gate here hostage to our giving in to his demands. Admiral, I am not a specialist in space law, but am I correct in assuming that the bear-cow superbattleship is now the property of the Alliance?”
“You are correct,” Geary said. “We captured it by force of arms. It is ours. We’ve got a crew aboard it. And she has a name. Invincible.”
“And is Invincible different from the other ships of this fleet in any way other than construction?”
“No. I give orders, and the officer in command of Invincible, Admiral Lagemann, obeys those orders. Invincible was part of our formation during the battle, taking damage alongside the other ships.”
“Excellent,” Rione said. “And the ships of the spider-wolves are not ours. In no way are they ours. If I may, Admiral, I will be happy to send an official reply to CEO Boyens and the Syndicate Worlds’ government regarding the latest proposition we have received.”
“Feel free,” Geary said. “I’m afraid my own diplomatic skills aren’t up to the task of answering that message in the appropriate manner.”
Rione sounded completely professional and looked completely immovable as she sent the reply. “Unfortunately, CEO Boyens, we are not in a position to comply with your request regarding the six ships that are accompanying us back to Alliance space. The inhabitants of those craft are not under our control, and we cannot compel them on your behalf or anyone else’s. They have expressed the wish to remain with our fleet, and we have been more than happy to accede to that request. However”—and here Rione smiled so coldly that Geary felt a chill—“we have promised to defend them. If anyone else should attempt to compel them or force them to take an
y actions, we will be forced by our commitments and our honor to defend them to the limits of our abilities, taking any action necessary to ensure they remain safe.
“As for the craft you refer to as an ‘alien warship,’ I must inform you that this warship is in fact a vessel of this fleet, named the Invincible, crewed by members of the Alliance military forces and responding to commands by Admiral Geary. It is not legally different in any way from any other warship in this fleet. Naturally, any demand that we surrender an Alliance warship to control of the Syndicate Worlds’ government is beyond absurd, contrary to the peace treaty governing your actions and ours, and cannot be taken seriously.
“We are grateful that you are concerned for the physical security of the hypernet gate here. Especially since the authorities in this star system have granted the Alliance partial ownership of that gate. Since it is now partially Alliance property, any damage inflicted upon it would constitute an attack on the Alliance, bringing on a state of war between the Alliance and whichever government owned the warships that launched such an attack.
“I once again wish you a pleasant journey back to Prime. Please do not linger in this star system on our account, as we would find it difficult to leave if you remained here. To the honor of our ancestors, Rione, out.”
Geary stared at Rione. “They gave us part of the hypernet gate? Iceni and Drakon?”
“I suggested it,” Rione said with more than a trace of smugness, “pointing out the benefits that would have for them as well as us, and they have already agreed.”
“I’m glad you’re on our side, Emissary Rione.”
“ICENI and Drakon have definitely been expanding their influence outside this star system,” Lieutenant Iger reported. “There have even been offensive operations despite their limited military capability. If that capability grows, they may actually attempt to expand their control by conquest of neighboring star systems.”
The Lost Fleet: Beyond the Frontier: Invincible Page 38