“She’s in overall command of this mission,” he said. “Tanya, diplomats like Ambassador Rycerz risk their lives to try to keep the military from having to risk military lives.”
“There you go getting all idealistic again.” She waved off his words. “All right, Admiral. But please keep me informed.”
“I will.”
Ambassador Rycerz wasn’t happy at the news, calling in Colonel Webb immediately, who in turn disavowed any knowledge of the tick but requested to have it turned over to him so he could try to learn the source. Geary only agreed to grant him access to scans of the tick. “We will, naturally, be keeping a close eye out for similar incidents,” he said.
“Believe me, Admiral, so will I,” Colonel Webb said. If Webb wasn’t angry, he was doing a great job of pretending. “If one of my people was behind this, they’ll find out how little I like rogue operators.”
Geary sat in his stateroom after the call, thinking that he seemed to be dealing with a lot of rogue operators. Before it had been those involved in the black programs that had culminated in the Defender fleet. Now it was the Rift Federation warships, already doubtless creating problems ahead of the Alliance fleet. And Colonel Webb’s people. And Dr. Macadams. It might be a nice change of pace to deal with external problems again, such as the Syndicate Worlds and the enigmas.
But that brought up thoughts of Atalia. The last time he’d seen Atalia Star System, it had been getting ravaged by out-of-control dark ships. And beyond that, haunted Kalixa. Past Kalixa was Indras Star System, still firmly controlled by the Syndicate Worlds. The last time an Alliance military force had been at Indras it had been the black ships of the Defender fleet, carrying out a “secret” retaliatory attack for Syndic provocations. The Syndics wouldn’t be happy to see Alliance warships showing up again, might have prepared traps, and would’ve been alerted by the Rift Federation ships.
When the fleet finally jumped for Atalia a day and a half later, Geary’s worries were focused on what lay ahead.
TWELVE
AN alert sounded aboard Dauntless as the fleet dropped out of jump space with the familiar but always painful and momentarily disorienting lurch that caused in human minds. Everyone took precious moments to clear the haze from their minds as the alert warned of possible danger.
“It’s an Alliance courier ship,” Lieutenant Castries reported on the heels of Dauntless’s sensors tagging the contact on their displays.
What would normally be a reassuring assessment was more than a bit unnerving after their recent experiences.
“Two light seconds distant,” Captain Desjani said, frowning. “He’s not maneuvering.”
“Sensors do not identify it as a likely dark ship,” Lieutenant Yuon said.
“It’s about where the courier ship stationed at Atalia should be orbiting,” Geary said. “I—damn!” Alerts began proliferating on his display as dozens of warships nearest to the courier ship locked their weapons onto it as a target. Nervous from the earlier attacks, they might open fire on a friendly ship. His hand hit the necessary comm circuit without having to look. “All units, this is Admiral Geary! Hold fire! I repeat, no ship is to open fire unless I directly order it to do so!”
For a few seconds, as the fleet swept closer, the fate of the Alliance courier ship hung on a knife-edge.
A message came in, highest priority, the expression of the courier ship’s commanding officer a mix of confusion and terror. “Why are we being targeted? Urgently request that you confirm your identities.”
“He’s worried we’re more dark ships,” Desjani said.
“If we were, he’d already be dead,” Geary said, his tense gaze on his display. “If anyone has an itchy trigger finger, he might still end up dead.” This was one of the consequences of the dark ship fiasco, that Alliance ships feared other Alliance ships and might open fire on them. One more unintended consequence the minds behind the dark ship program hadn’t thought about when coming up with the idea.
The fleet that had existed when he inherited the command contained any number of ships that would have already opened fire out of excessive zeal or simply poor discipline. But he’d managed to train his captains to think, and earned their trust, two things that paid off now. “All units, this is Admiral Geary,” he said, trying not to sound or look breathless. “The courier ship here has been confirmed as a crewed Alliance vessel. Repeat, the ship is friendly. Geary, out.”
He tapped the command to reply to the courier ship. “I regret the confusion that led to you being momentarily targeted. We’ve encountered more than one surviving dark ship courier vessel which has attempted to ram. Be aware that given current threats it’s critically important to quickly establish your identification as a crewed vessel whenever encountering other Alliance ships. Request you forward to me a status report on recent events in Atalia.”
He rubbed his eyes, trying to relax. Destroying a friendly ship by accident would have been an awful way to start this mission. Geary lowered his hands and focused on his display, taking in the picture it presented of this star system.
They’d last seen Atalia reeling from devastation caused by the Defender fleet. A frontline star system in the war while Atalia was part of the Syndicate Worlds, it had been devastated over and over again, each time the human towns and cities and defenses rebuilt by the Syndicate Worlds, all of them repopulated with new settlers from deeper in Syndicate space. Because the Syndicate Worlds didn’t want the Alliance to have even the symbolic victory of an abandoned star system. It might have seemed a uniquely insane policy, except that the Alliance had done the same thing with its frontline star systems. The treasure and lives expended to keep resurrecting those star systems were the price of maintaining the illusion by both sides that the war wasn’t being lost.
Now, having been battered again, Atalia seemed to be a sea of wreckage on the surface of its primary world and in space. “I can’t believe the population is still hanging on here instead of evacuating,” Geary said. “It’s not like there aren’t a lot of other worlds out there with plenty of room on them.”
“That’d mean admitting they’d lost,” Desjani said. “People don’t like to do that.”
“I don’t like admitting the Alliance is responsible for the latest round of destruction here, either, but I have to accept that.”
“We’re actually responsible for all of the destruction here,” Desjani said. “All of the rest was during the war, though.”
Which made it legal, if not all right. “I’m glad Boundless is with us.”
“Why?” she asked. “So the ambassador can see this?”
“No,” he said. “Because if Ambassador Rycerz wasn’t here, I’d have to answer the messages Atalia’s people are going to be sending asking for help. But she is here, so that’ll be her job. Not every lousy job gets shipped downhill.”
Desjani leaned back in her captain’s seat and gave him a look from the corners of her eyes. “But you’ll still feel guilty that we can’t help them.”
“Of course I will.”
In the back of his mind had been a vague hope that the Rift Federation ships would’ve had an attack of common sense and waited here to accompany the Alliance ships the rest of the way. But there was no sign of them.
The update from the courier ship soon confirmed that the Rift formation had arrived at Atalia, cruised across the star system without sending or acknowledging any messages, and then jumped for Indras. Since the Rift Federation ships hadn’t identified themselves as no longer part of the Alliance fleet, the people of Atalia had interpreted that as a deliberate snub of their suffering by the Alliance, as well as an insult to their own fragile independence.
“I’m beginning to wish I’d let you open fire on them,” Ambassador Rycerz told Geary after dealing with another set of messages from the leaders of Atalia. “They certainly complicated an already difficult task for me. Do you h
ave any insight into why the Rift Federation ships acted the way they did here?”
“No,” Geary said. “I asked Captain Hiyen and he couldn’t guess why they refused to communicate.”
“You don’t have anyone else with a good insight in Rift Federation thinking?”
“I had Victoria Rione,” Geary said. “She was so good at it that I never tried to develop an alternate source.”
Rycerz closed her eyes and nodded. “The biggest problem with someone who does their job really well is that they make it too easy not to think much about their job. Until they’re not around to fill it anymore. Have you learned anything else about whoever bugged that secure conference room aboard Dauntless?”
“We’ve analyzed the bug as best we can,” Geary said. “I’m sure you won’t be surprised to hear it contains no clues to its origin, except that Lieutenant Iger believes it came from a civilian source and not a military source.”
“What does Colonel Webb think?”
“He hasn’t been informed of those findings yet.”
“Please do so.” She spotted his hesitation, her gaze on him sharpening. “Is there some reason you don’t want to let Colonel Webb in on everything you find out?”
He could deny his reasons, avoid any confrontation or the possibility of word getting back to Webb, but Geary didn’t like the feel of that. He looked back at Rycerz, thinking that he’d want her to be candid with him. But he couldn’t expect that of her if he didn’t do the same. “There’s some concern regarding Colonel Webb’s feelings about this mission.”
“I see.” Rycerz sat back, her eyes hooded. “Is that concern based on concrete actions or statements?”
“No,” Geary said. “It’s based on the impression he created with me and others. I freely admit there’s no solid evidence that gives reason not to trust him specifically.”
“Because you haven’t been able to tie the bug you found to anyone. I’m going to make what may seem like a radical suggestion, Admiral. If you want a better feel for Colonel Webb, share that information and see how he reacts. Discuss it with him. See what he says and what he doesn’t say.”
He considered the idea, finally nodding. “That’s the only way to learn more about him, isn’t it? How candid do you think he’ll be?”
“I’ve found Colonel Webb to be very straightforward,” Rycerz said. “In some areas, that is.”
“How does he feel about the Dancers?”
Rycerz smiled. “He distrusts them. Colonel Webb distrusts every potential threat. That’s how he sees the universe and that’s one reason he got the job he has. Part of my job is to make sure he doesn’t go overboard with his concerns about security, but part of his job is to be a bit paranoid about whatever we might encounter.”
“And I failed to consider that was part of his job,” Geary said, realizing he’d looked at Webb from only one angle. Had Carabali done the same? He did need to size up Webb in a longer encounter. “All right. I’ll contact the colonel and set up a meeting.”
Rycerz raised both of her eyebrows as she gave Geary a look of surprise. “Are you always so reasonable, Admiral?”
“No,” he said. “But I do try to listen to people before I make up my mind.”
The ambassador didn’t reply for a moment, seeming preoccupied with thoughts she didn’t disclose. Finally, she spoke again. “Atalia’s representatives are also worried about the Syndics, which is understandable. They say they’ve been threatened repeatedly.”
“According to the courier ship monitoring the star system,” Geary said, “Syndic warships have been popping out of the jump point from Kalixa at random intervals. It’s clearly meant as intimidation, letting the people here know that the Syndicate Worlds could hit them again anytime they want to.”
“Why haven’t they, then?” Rycerz asked. “There’s nothing here that could stop even a small Syndicate Worlds force from taking over again.”
“I think,” Geary said, “the Syndics are letting Atalia remain a buffer between them and the Alliance. Maybe because Atalia is so badly beaten up that occupying it would impose more costs than benefits on the Syndicate Worlds. But they’re making it clear to Atalia that its independence is entirely at the sufferance of the Syndicate Worlds.”
“Will we encounter Syndic warships at Kalixa?”
“We might. If not there, we’re guaranteed to encounter some at Indras.”
“What will they do?”
“Threaten us. Tell us to leave Syndicate Worlds space. Invoke the peace treaty they’ve broken repeatedly. Technically, an Alliance fleet entering Syndicate Worlds space without prior approval is an act of war.”
“But we’ve done it before,” Rycerz pointed out.
“Because they couldn’t stop us,” Geary said. “And because a prior peace agreement granted me leeway to transit Syndic space. But once their threats don’t work, they may attack. I don’t expect a direct attack, but rather the sort of low-level, deniable actions we encountered last time.”
“How dangerous will those be?”
“One time they cost us a battleship. They could’ve cost us a lot more. They can’t be disregarded.”
The ambassador looked even less happy than before. “I was led to believe the transit of Syndicate Worlds space would not be a major problem. I thought most of this force was to deter attacks by the enigmas once we left human space.”
“The enigmas will be a greater threat,” Geary said, wondering why the ambassador hadn’t asked questions at this level of detail before leaving Varandal. “But the Syndics have never stopped trying to attack us. I don’t know who told you that part of the transit would be without risk, but they were wrong. And this time the Syndics might use the attack of the black ships on Indras, an attack by the Alliance, as justification to be even more aggressive.”
“But we won’t respond to their provocations,” the ambassador said, in a way that sounded more like an order than a suggestion.
“My ships are authorized to defend themselves,” Geary said, not willing to give ground on that. “We won’t seek out a fight, but if a fight comes to us we’ll stop it.”
Ambassador Rycerz twisted her mouth, looking down at her desk. Finally, she looked up at him again. “We are not authorized to restart the war with the Syndicate Worlds.”
“Ambassador,” Geary said, deliberately using her formal title, “I’m not interested in restarting the war. But I am specifically authorized to take any necessary measures to protect my ships, including Boundless.”
“Our actions may decide whether there is renewed war.” She had her eyes on him now, her expression set in firm lines, clearly wanting to establish dominance on this topic.
He kept his eyes on hers as he answered, wondering why the mood of this meeting had shifted so suddenly. “Our actions didn’t start the war the first time. If the Syndics want war, our choice will be the same now as then.”
“The situation then, a century ago, was more complex than you imply.”
“I recall the situation then very clearly,” Geary said. “It was only a few years ago for me.”
Rycerz stopped her initial response, pausing to rethink her words. “I’m not in a position to lecture you on the situation when the war began. Fine. I don’t want any shots fired unless I approve it first. In each and every case.”
“I can’t agree to that,” Geary said.
“I didn’t ask for agreement. That is how we will deal with the Syndics if they appear to be attempting aggression. They may well want us to fire first, which is why I will not approve that.”
What was happening? Why was he suddenly being given specific directions on how to do his job after being promised full authority? Geary spoke slowly. “My orders give me the responsibility for the protection of this force.”
“I’ve told you how we’ll handle this,” the ambassador said.
“I do not agree. This falls under my authority.”
Ambassador Rycerz shook her head, her voice steady. “You don’t have the final say, Admiral. My orders give me authority to relieve you of command if necessary to ensure the success of this mission. I’m sure that provision won’t have to be invoked, though.”
There it was, laid out in clear language. The sort of do-this-or-else that was supposed to put him in a position where he had to agree. Sprung on him without warning, despite assurances to the contrary.
He was supposed to give in on this, bend to higher authority, which as it turned out hadn’t been candid about the reach of his own orders.
But he’d already given more than enough. And he wasn’t going to give on an issue that could literally mean life and death for those over whom he had responsibility. Especially since the ambassador’s authority to relieve him had not been disclosed prior to this.
If they wanted someone else, let them get someone else. “Go ahead,” Geary said, his voice flat. “Relieve me of command. Or we can make it simple. You can give me an order that my ships can’t fire without your authorization, and I can give you my resignation.”
Ambassador Rycerz stared at him for several seconds, not speaking. “That’s not a bluff, is it?” she finally said.
“No, it’s not.”
“We’re already outside Alliance space. You can’t simply walk away from this mission. Everyone in the fleet is counting on you.”
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