Boundless

by Jack Campbell

  “What about the ship bringing Colonel Rogero to Typhoon?” Desjani asked.

  “The, uh, heavy cruiser Gryphon said they’ll meet us one hour from the jump point. Typhoon has reported the Gryphon requested one of Typhoon’s shuttles transfer Colonel Rogero and intends to grant that request.”

  “Very well.” Desjani turned an arched eyebrow on Geary. “When that Syndic—ex-Syndic battle cruiser gets here, where are you putting it in the formation?”

  He pointed to the center of the box formed by the Alliance battle cruisers. “Here, a little ahead of the rest of us.”

  “Really? You’re going to use them as a mine detector?”

  “No,” Geary said. “I’m going to let them feel like they are leading the way to Kane to save an allied . . . excuse me, associated star system. I think the symbolism of that is important to both the people of Midway and the people at Kane.”

  “It’s your task force, Admiral,” she replied.

  * * *

  ONCE Pele had joined up with the fleet, the battle cruiser bearing the scars of fighting at Iwa and other stars proudly taking the lead in the formation, Kommodor Marphissa asked for a virtual meeting with Geary and the senior officers in the task force.

  Kommodor Marphissa had a very professional bearing to her, as if determined to show what she thought a senior officer should look and act like. There was something about her eyes, though, that made it clear Marphissa wasn’t all show. Something in her eyes, Geary thought, that made a smart person careful about crossing Marphissa. From what he’d learned about Syndicate Worlds practices, he wondered whether Kommodor Marphissa had personally killed any rivals. Certainly the former Syndic commanders of the warships now part of Midway’s fleet had apparently all come to rather abrupt ends.

  But whenever President Iceni’s name came up, a trace of almost fanatical loyalty also shone in the Kommodor’s eyes. Marphissa certainly wasn’t going to be leading another rebellion as long as Iceni was in charge.

  “We can expect the Syndicate flotilla at Kane to follow doctrine. That’s all they know. It’s likely the Syndicate warships are lacking in training and undercrewed,” Marphissa told Geary, Captain Desjani, Captain Hiyen of Reprisal, and General Carabali, all but Geary and Desjani participating in the meeting in virtual form. “The Syndicate long since ran low on volunteers, and is shunting every volunteer it still gets into the ranks of internal security service agents, people we call snakes, to terrorize the new conscripts and veterans into obeying orders.”

  “Haven’t Syndic ships always been run that way?” Desjani asked.

  “To some extent,” Marphissa said, showing no sign of offense at the question. “But there’d be one snake on most ships, with some of the crew secretly working for the snake to spy on the others, and maybe three or four on the large ships. Now there are dozens of snakes on the ships, because the Syndicate knows one or four snakes can no longer intimidate a crew into remaining loyal.”

  “So you had a ‘snake’ on your ship when you revolted?” Captain Hiyen said. “What happened to them?”

  “They died,” Marphissa said. “Of course.”

  “Is it the same with the Syndic ground forces now?” General Carabali asked. “A lot more of these snakes watching everyone for any sign of disloyalty?”

  “Colonel Rogero can speak better to that than I can, but yes. At Iwa, the Syndicate had brought in not only ground forces, but also the families of those ground forces workers to serve as nearby hostages. That way the workers knew any failure could result in instant retaliation against their families.”

  “What is wrong with such people?” Captain Hiyen said, dismayed. “Why would anyone agree to be one of those snakes, knowing what they would be expected to do?”

  Kommodor Marphissa gave him a look that held steel. “Don’t fool yourself. There are always those willing to follow orders, no matter what the orders are. I know such people are in the Alliance. We fought them, and saw what they’d done.”

  An uncomfortable silence fell, the Alliance officers looking down, not able to meet the Kommodor’s eyes. All except for Desjani, who kept her gaze defiantly on Marphissa. Finally, Geary broke the uneasy quiet. “War is too easily used to excuse acts we’d never consider otherwise. I assure you, Kommodor, the Alliance no longer permits actions like that.”

  “Of course,” Marphissa said. “And both President Iceni and General Drakon have made it clear such Syndicate practices are no longer permitted in our free and independent star system. Forgive my bluntness, Admiral. We all know you are for the people. And now Kane will benefit from that as Midway has.”

  After the meeting ended, the virtual attendees vanished, Desjani stood up with a scowl. “That’s some nerve. A Syndic lecturing us on war atrocities.”

  “She didn’t pretend the Syndics hadn’t done such things,” Geary said. “Kommodor Marphissa didn’t offer excuses for them.”

  “It still sits badly with me.” Tanya looked away as if composing herself. “If Kostya Tulev had been here, that meeting might’ve gone very badly. He would’ve told her what the Syndics did to his home world.” She paused as if recalling something before looking at him again. “Yes, I remember telling you we were also bombarding cities from orbit, and seeing how shocked you looked. I wondered why.”

  “You understand why I was shocked,” he said.

  “Yeah. Now I do. But you can never know what it was like, decade after decade, more and more dying, just endless.” Desjani sighed. “I can’t forgive the Syndics. But people who revolted against the Syndics I’ll give some benefit of the doubt to. They know what they’re fighting.”

  “Colonel Rogero is going to report in to me when he gets to Typhoon,” Geary said. “Do you want to be present for that?”

  “Why would—oh. Bradamont’s husband.” Desjani straightened, rubbing the back of her neck. “Yeah, I do want to check him out. He’s got to be a decent person. Honore Bradamont wouldn’t have looked twice at him otherwise. A few years ago I would’ve dropped a rock on him without a moment’s hesitation, though. And I bet he would’ve expected me to do that, because we were on opposite sides. Did he know he was fighting for the bad guys?”

  “We can ask him,” Geary said.

  “Maybe when we get to know him better,” Desjani said.

  A call came in. “Captain? The Midway battle cruiser wants to reinitiate the secure link.”

  Desjani tapped the nearest comm panel. “All right. Make it happen.”

  A moment later the virtual image of Kommodor Marphissa reappeared. “I have a request, Admiral, on behalf of President Iceni.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I request that I be permitted to physically transfer to your flagship and accompany it through the jump and whatever occurs at Kane.”

  Desjani hit the mute control. “No way.”

  “Tanya . . .” Geary pointed to the image of Kommodor Marphissa, waiting patiently. “Shouldn’t we find out why?”

  “Sabotage? Spying? Assassination? Do we really need to know exactly why?”

  “She’s not a Syndic.”

  “Did you see the look in her eyes when she talked about that snake on her ship?” Desjani demanded. “‘They died.’ Are you going to bet me who killed them?”

  “I want to know why she wants to come to this ship,” Geary said. “And I want a chance to get a better feel for her as a commander.”

  “Ancestors save me!” Desjani shook her head, composed her expression, and unmuted the link.

  “Why do you want to ride this ship?” Geary asked.

  Marphissa had obviously been expecting the question. “I was directed to be open with you, and I will be. President Iceni wishes me to observe the operation of your ship. The way the crew and the officers interact. Your organization. Your discipline. We have learned a great deal from Kommodor Bradamont, but that is no substitu
te for firsthand observation.”

  “Aren’t you worried about being aboard this ship and leaving the Pele without your command presence?”

  She shook her head. “Kapitan Kontos is extremely competent. His crew is loyal. President Iceni also thought you would welcome the chance to learn more about myself and the ways in which we are trying to operate our ships.”

  President Iceni had obviously foreseen Geary’s reaction to the proposal. A glance at Desjani showed her revealing nothing of her feelings. She noticed him looking and with a put-upon sigh nodded slightly. “How would you get over here, Kommodor?”

  “We have a shuttle on Pele. Or I could use one of yours if you would prefer.”

  “We would prefer,” Captain Desjani said. “Let us know when you want to transfer. I’ll make preparations.”

  After the Kommodor’s image had vanished again, she shook her head at Geary. “Okay. This will be a good opportunity to see what she’s like and maybe learn more about these people. But I will have her escorted everywhere she goes. And you will have two Marines on guard at the door to your stateroom the entire time she’s aboard.”

  “Fine.” He knew better than to argue, especially since those were common-sense precautions.

  Two hours later Dauntless’s shuttle returned from the Pele. Kommodor Marphissa came down the ramp, followed by Gunnery Sergeant Orvis, who’d been sent to escort her, resplendent in his dress uniform.

  At the bottom of the shuttle ramp, Marphissa paused for just a moment to study the dock and the honor guard drawn up for her arrival. Walking up to Geary, she saluted in the Syndic fashion, bringing her right fist to her left shoulder. “Thank you for this opportunity, Admiral.” Turning to Desjani, she repeated the salute. “Thank you for your hospitality, Captain.”

  “My pleasure,” Desjani said, returning Marphissa’s gesture with an Alliance salute. “While you’re aboard, Gunnery Sergeant Orvis will accompany you at all times when you are outside your stateroom to ensure your safety.”

  “Oh?” Kommodor Marphissa turned to look Orvis up and down. “An Alliance Marine as my escort? These are strange times.”

  “I was thinking the same thing,” Desjani said.

  * * *

  THE heavy cruiser Gryphon swung in close enough to transfer Colonel Rogero to Typhoon, then broke off as the task force approached the jump point for Kane.

  “He’s brought some valuable things with him,” General Carabali reported just before jump. “Malware customized for the latest Syndic ground forces armor operating systems that they encountered at Iwa. Our hack and cracks were impressed by the coding work on that malware. Midway has some sharp coders.”

  “They gave you malware that could also be used against them?” Geary asked, surprised. “Don’t General Drakon’s soldiers still use Syndic armor?”

  General Carabali nodded. “They do, but they’ve deliberately been modifying their own systems to have less commonality with the Syndic ground forces. They don’t want the Syndics to be able to drop malware on them, either.”

  “These guys are smart,” Geary said.

  Carabali nodded again, her expression reflecting respect. “I hope we don’t end up fighting them. Drakon has built a real professional force. They’d be tougher than any regular Syndics we’ve ever encountered.”

  “I hope we don’t end up fighting them, too,” Geary said. “They’re an anchor of stability in a region that otherwise might fall into anarchy as the Syndicate Worlds lose their grip on it. I’ll be interested to hear your opinion of Colonel Rogero.”

  “I’ll get to know him while we’re in jump and picking his brains,” Carabali said. “He said he needs to report in to you before jump, though. Is it okay to link him?”

  “Yes, go ahead.”

  The image of Colonel Rogero appeared. He saluted in the Syndic fashion. Not a salute in crisp parade-ground style, but the firm gesture of a veteran who did it right without even thinking. “I wish to report my arrival with your force, Admiral.”

  “We’re glad to have you, Colonel,” Geary said. “Please assist my Marines to the best of your ability.”

  Rogero saluted again, and the link ended.

  “That was it?” Desjani said. They were seated on Dauntless’s bridge, waiting for the jump. Kommodor Marphissa occupied the observer seat at the back of the bridge that had once been the usual place for Victoria Rione. “That was your arrival interview?”

  “We didn’t have a lot of time,” Geary said.

  As if to emphasize his words, Lieutenant Yuon called out, “Five minutes to jump for Kane.”

  Geary reached for the controls to speak to his entire force, but paused. “Pele has been linked in, right?”

  “They’re part of the comm net,” Captain Desjani said. “They can’t link with the full net because of system incompatibilities, but we’ve got a basic data exchange work-around in place.”

  “Kapitan Kontos is satisfied with the current arrangement,” Kommodor Marphissa said.

  “Good.” Geary touched his communications controls. “All units in Task Force Kane, we know the Syndics have warships at that star. Be at full combat readiness when we exit jump just in case they’ve posted a sentry or guard force at the jump point. Do not initiate hostilities, but if they fire you are authorized to immediately respond. Detailed plans of action will be formed when we see the situation at Kane, but we have to assume Syndic ground forces are on the surface of the primary world. We’re going to make sure they don’t remain there. To the honor of our ancestors, Geary, out.”

  A couple of minutes later he sent one more command. “All units in Task Force Kane, jump.”

  * * *

  IT did feel odd to have even a former Syndic officer walking around the ship. The fact that her uniform was no longer Syndic made her more an object of curiosity than of hostility, and in any case the intimidating presence of Gunnery Sergeant Orvis kept anyone from openly expressing negative opinions.

  “What’s she up to?” Geary asked Lieutenant Iger.

  “She’s observing things, Admiral,” Iger said. “The interactions of the officers and the enlisted seem to be of particular interest to her, but she also wants to observe drills to see how we do things. She was taking notes on an epad, so I asked to see it, and she turned it over without hesitating. I scanned it and there wasn’t anything on it except a basic operating system and her notes.”

  “I’d think if they’d send malware or some other espionage tool with her it’d be a bit better concealed than placing it in an epad,” Geary said.

  “There’s no indication the Kommodor has anything like that,” Lieutenant Iger said. “Captain Bradamont sent me a message telling me that Kommodor Marphissa was a potential friend to us and asking me to treat her right.”

  “I got the same message,” Geary said. “She’s still eating all of her meals in the crew areas?”

  “Yes, sir. Observing. And she says we have good food.” Lieutenant Iger smiled. “Better than the Syndics provide to junior officers and sailors, anyway. I sat next to her during a meal, asking her questions. She didn’t seem to mind at all once she realized I wasn’t anything like the Syndicate Worlds security people. Admiral, maybe this Kommodor is the greatest actor ever, but when I asked about her feelings about the Syndicate Worlds it was like a nova had gone off. The heat and intensity of her hate were off the scale. She said most of the people at Midway feel that way.”

  “From what I know of the Syndicate Worlds I can believe that,” Geary said. “Did you learn anything else?”

  “She said she’d been watching a lot of vids,” Iger said. “Entertainment. Because she wanted to see what people were allowed to show and do and say in our entertainment. I never thought about it that way, but the Kommodor said in the Syndicate Worlds there were things you could never do. A CEO could never be a villain. Internal security agents were always righ
t and concerned for the people. The system was always right and anyone rebelling against it was evil and heartless. There couldn’t be any shortages or poorly made items, unless it was because workers were ignoring their responsibilities.”

  “Huh,” Geary said. “And she wanted to see what rules existed for entertainment in the Alliance.”

  “Yes, sir. She said there didn’t seem to be any rules except that Syndics were always bad guys. But the Kommodor thought that was understandable. She was impressed that we showed problems. In the Syndicate Worlds, she said, no one was supposed to admit problems existed, even though people were often disciplined because of problems.”

  “Keep an eye on her,” Geary said. “Gunny Orvis hasn’t reported any difficulties?”

  “No, sir.” Iger smiled. “He said Kommodor Marphissa told him the Syndicate Worlds claimed Alliance Marines were genetically modified monsters. Everyone knew it wasn’t true because they’d captured some Marines, but the official story never changed.”

  “How did Gunny Orvis take that?” Geary asked.

  “He . . . thought it was funny, Admiral. Marines have a slightly odd sense of humor, don’t they?”

  “That’s one way of describing it,” Geary said.

  * * *

  THE jump to Kane was only six days. Enough time to get bored with jump space, but not long enough for jump space to get on the nerves of everyone.

  Geary sat on the bridge of Dauntless, Captain Desjani in her seat nearby, Kommodor Marphissa at the back of the bridge.

  “Shields at maximum, all weapons ready,” Lieutenant Castries reported. The lieutenants had been particularly wary around Kommodor Marphissa, but at the moment they were too caught up in their duties to make much note of her presence. “If we’re fired upon, fire control systems are set to automatically return fire.”