That took his breath away for a moment. “So our saboteurs are willing to kill helpless Syndics as well as unsuspecting Alliance comrades. Which ships?”
“The munitions would have been launched from Courageous and Furious, sir.”
“Ships commanded by two of my strongest supporters in the fleet.” Geary felt a slow burn of anger. His fleet and shuttles never could have reached the Syndic survivors before those munitions struck. “Someone has a sick sense of vengeance and a very ugly willingness to do anything.”
Desjani’s expression showed she agreed with him. “In half an hour they’ll know the worm was blocked. That’s when the munitions were supposed to launch.”
“Thank you, Captain. I have a couple of people to talk to.” Geary left the bridge and waited until he was in his stateroom, with all security features active, before calling Rione and filling her in. “I don’t know if anyone will react when the worm doesn’t work, but you might have your sources watching.”
Rione, her face pale, nodded.
Geary passed the same information to Captain Duellos, then waited, wondering what he’d do if somehow another worm hadn’t been blocked or detected, if some of his ships did launch bombardment munitions against that dying Syndic colony. Nothing happened, though, and no one called. He hadn’t really expected anyone suddenly to rage in disappointment when the set time passed, but apparently not even subtle signs of frustration had been spotted in anyone. The only thing he could be certain of was that whoever had planted the worms would now be aware that their chosen subnet path had been compromised.
That and whoever had tried to destroy three Alliance warships earlier was now also opposed to Geary’s aiding these Syndics. At least that helped reassure him that he was indeed doing the right thing.
After all of that a reply finally came from the Syndic colony.
The Syndic he’d seen before was now anxious. Geary couldn’t help thinking how much more nervous the Syndic would be if he’d known how close his town had come to being turned into a large crater. “Sir, my people are very worried. Please don’t take this wrong, but many don’t trust the Alliance. Unless things have changed a great deal since our last news from outside, and it has been decades, there has been very little consideration for civilians in this war. I’m trying to convince them to trust you, because I can’t think of any reason why you’d bother to kill us aboard your ships rather than just letting us die here. No reason except . . . the women . . . the girls . . . all the children. I’m sorry, but you must understand what we fear. What can I tell them, sir?”
Geary pondered his reply. This man clearly wanted and needed to be convinced himself if he was to argue effectively with his own people. “Tell your people that Captain John Geary commands this fleet by the grace of his ancestors, and that he will never dishonor those ancestors by harming the helpless or breaking his word. I tell you again that I give you my personal word of honor that you will not be harmed as long as you do not attempt to harm these ships. Any person in this fleet who tries to assault any one of you will be dealt with under the wartime provisions of the fleet code of justice. I could have lied to you about the war, about this fleet’s mission. I didn’t. Your people have no military value whatsoever. But they are people. We won’t let them die if we can save them. Please provide the information we need as soon as possible.”
The next half day passed with a normalcy that felt almost surreal. Geary authorized the release of information about the latest worm despite fears that it might garner support for the saboteurs from officers who opposed his decision to aid the Syndics, but instead there was another wave of revulsion at the idea of hijacking ships’ combat systems. Humans had never fully lost their mistrust of automated combat systems, so anyone messing with their software to cause weapons systems to act on their own ended up on the wrong side of the fence as far as just about everyone was concerned.
Shuttles soared between warships, bringing new fuel cells and expendable munitions, replacement parts and anything else the auxiliaries had manufactured to meet the needs of the fleet during the period since leaving Lakota. Geary was pleased to see his fleet’s average fuel-cell reserves climb back up to 65 percent. Not great by a long shot, but better than it had been. Commander Savos was brought to Orion as her new commanding officer, fully aware of the challenge he faced there. Maybe he could turn Orion around as Commander Suram had done with Warrior.
The next reply from the Syndics didn’t come until the Alliance fleet was less than a single light-hour from Wendig One and about ten hours at its current velocity from reaching the planet. “We will trust you because we have no choice. Some of our people are using the few working survival suits we have left to try to sweep clear the landing pad you indicated. All of us will be standing by when your shuttles arrive.”
Desjani listened to the message with a resigned look.
Rione’s expression masked her thoughts. Everyone else Geary could see seemed puzzled, trying to figure out why he was doing this. In a way, that was very depressing. But none of them were objecting anymore, and that was at least hopeful.
The shuttles launched as the fleet approached Wendig, the Alliance warships braking their velocity to allow time for the shuttles to reach the surface, load, and rejoin. Geary monitored the action from the bridge of Dauntless. Every shuttle had a detachment of Marines in full battle armor aboard just in case. He hadn’t been thrilled by that since it meant reducing the passenger capacity of the shuttles and requiring using more of them, but Colonel Carabali had been insistent, and he’d recognized the wisdom of her strongly worded suggestions.
“All birds down,” the operations watch-stander reported.
On his display, Geary could see an overhead image of the grounded shuttles, the Marines spilling out to stand sentry and screen the passengers, evacuation tubes being run to the air lock on the civilian town. He toggled briefly to the video feed from one of the Marines. The outside of the Syndic town already looked long abandoned, drifts of toxic snow and sand piled up against its walls, broken and cannibalized equipment littering the lifeless landscape. Geary couldn’t help shivering at the cold, empty image of desolation. “Can you imagine being trapped in a place like that?” he asked Desjani.
She viewed the feed, frowning, but said nothing.
“Loading complete,” Colonel Carabali reported. This was a landing expedition and therefore a Marine operation, she had insisted. “Evac tubes being withdrawn into shuttles. Shuttle liftoff estimated in zero three minutes.”
“Any problems, Colonel?” Geary asked.
“Not yet, sir.” Confronted with well over five hundred Syndics, Carabali obviously believed it was only a matter of time before problems arose.
“Birds in the air on schedule,” the operations watch-stander reported. “Rendezvous with warships projected on time in twenty-five minutes.”
Desjani tapped her own controls. “Colonel Carabali, please confirm all Syndics were searched for weapons and destructive materials.”
Carabali sounded slightly insulted at having a fleet officer ask if Marines had done their jobs. “Absolutely. Full scans. They’re clean. They don’t have much.”
Geary and Desjani went down to the shuttle dock to see the Syndic civilians destined for Dauntless arrive. The Syndics filed off the shuttle between ranks of Marines in full battle armor with weapons at guard position. Some of the civilians were trying to look brave, but all appeared frightened. Fifty-one of them, their civilian clothes a mix of styles and types that Geary realized must reflect raiding old stockpiles and closets as their supplies of clothing wore out. All of them seemed slightly gaunt, reflecting what must have been short rations in recent years as the amount of food available also ran low.
They were also trying not to stare around at the ship and at the Alliance personnel in the hangar deck. It struck Geary as he watched them that these people had never encountered strangers before, never actually been anyplace unfamiliar. Far in time and space as they were
from mankind’s origins, these Syndics were like the ancient inhabitants of a small island encountering their first ships from the outside. Not just ships, but warships carrying people who were supposed to be their sworn enemies.
Desjani stood beside him, her posture rigid, her face revealing nothing as she watched the enemy civilians walk onto the deck of her ship.
Geary recognized the man he’d spoken with and stepped forward. “Welcome to the Alliance fleet flagship. We’ll have to keep you all under guard, and a warship isn’t designed for a lot of passengers, so your accommodations will be pretty cramped.”
The man nodded. “I’m the mayor of . . . Well, I used to be the mayor of Alpha. We can’t very well complain about conditions here. It’s warm, and we can breathe. We honestly didn’t know if our life-support systems would hold out until your shuttles reached us.” The man’s eyes were still troubled by the memories of what must have been an agonizing wait. “But at least we knew you were coming. There haven’t been any ships here since the corporations pulled out. Before we got your call, we were getting ready to draw lots, though some argued the oldest shouldn’t even draw since we wouldn’t last long anyway.”
It was all too easy to imagine how these people had felt. “Why weren’t you evacuated from this star system along with everyone else?”
This time the mayor made a baffled gesture. “We have no idea. All of us who were left worked for subsidiaries of the same corporation, and our senior staff left on the last ship sent by another company. We were told the ships for us would arrive soon. They never did.”
“We’re taking you to Cavalos, so I guess your ships finally did arrive.”
The mayor grinned nervously. “Better late than never, right? You said you’re Captain John Geary? We know the name. It’s in our histories, though I expect they say different things than yours do. You’re his grandson?”
Geary shook his head. “No. I’m him. It’s a long story,” he added, as the mayor stared at him in disbelief, “but suffice it to say I fought at Grendel in the first battle of this war, and the living stars willing, I’ll see the last battle of it as well.”
The man leaned back involuntarily, his eyes wide.
A woman stood beside the mayor, her eyes constantly shifting from him to Geary, then to three children hanging on to her. The oldest of those, a young boy, saw his father recoil slightly and eyed Geary defiantly. “Don’t you dare hurt my father!”
Before Geary could answer he became aware that Desjani was beside him again, gazing down at the boy, her face still expressionless but her eyes showing inexplicable sadness. “Your father will not be harmed on my ship as long he does not attempt to cause any damage to my ship.”
The boy moved slightly, putting himself between Desjani and his mother. “We can’t believe you. We know what you’ve done.”
To Geary’s surprise, Desjani went to one knee so her head was on a level with the boy’s. “Man of the Syndicate Worlds,” she addressed the boy as if he were his father’s age, “under the command of Captain John Geary, the Alliance fleet no longer wars on the innocent or the helpless. Even should he leave his command, we would not do so again because he has reminded us of that which honor demands of warriors. You need not protect your family from us.”
The boy, wordless with surprise at being spoken to that way, nodded.
Desjani rose and looked down at the boy, then at his mother, exchanging some wordless message. The mother nodded, seeming reassured. Then Desjani gazed around and spoke in her command voice, her words ringing through the shuttle dock. “Citizens of the Syndicate Worlds, I’m Captain Desjani, commanding officer of the Alliance battle cruiser Dauntless. You are not combatants and will be treated as civilians in need of humanitarian assistance unless you try to harm my ship or members of my crew. Follow all instructions and orders given you. Anyone who violates orders or attempts to damage this ship or harm any Alliance personnel will be regarded as an enemy combatant and treated accordingly. We will require about three more days to reach the jump point to Cavalos, then just under nine days in jump space before arriving at Cavalos. According to the latest Syndicate Worlds’ star-system guides in our possession, that star retains a robust human presence. Once there, we’ll identify a safe place to deliver you.”
Desjani frowned as she studied the Syndic civilians. “I’ll have my medical personnel check you for serious problems. You’d be wise to cooperate with them to the best of your ability. Your rations will be equivalent to what my own crew is eating. At this point that’s mostly expired Syndic rations, so don’t expect any fine meals. Are there any questions?”
One woman, late middle-aged, called out. “Why?”
Desjani flicked a glance at Geary, but he indicated she could answer if she wanted. Facing the woman, Desjani spoke crisply. “Because only those who show mercy can expect to receive it. And because the honor of our ancestors demands it. Marines, escort the civilians to their accommodations. ”
Despite Geary’s fears, no more sabotage attempts occurred over the next two days as the fleet covered the distance to the jump point for Cavalos. The Syndic civilians were so terrified, none of them had caused any problems. As he sat on the bridge of Dauntless waiting to give the jump command, Geary noticed Desjani gazing morosely at her display, where an image of Wendig One floated. “Something wrong?” he asked.
Desjani shook her head. “I was just thinking about how I’d feel if we were about to jump, and they were still there. I’ve had to think a lot about it, but you did the right thing, sir.”
“We did the right thing, Captain Desjani.” She glanced at him and nodded. Geary took one last look at Wendig One, lifeless again as it had been for uncounted years before humans came, and gave the order. “All ships, jump for Cavalos.”
NINE days, a fairly long stretch in jump space that couldn’t help but evoke thoughts about what would have happened if the worm in the jump drives hadn’t been discovered. Geary found himself staring at the drab grayness of jump space and the mysterious lights blooming and fading there, feeling the familiar sense of discomfort as if his skin didn’t fit right, growing each day, and wondered how long humans could remain sane if stuck there.
The Syndic civilians remained quiet and scared, crews worked continuing to repair internal battle damage to their warships, the auxiliaries manufactured more necessities for the fleet, and Geary found himself worrying more about his internal foes in the fleet than he did about the Syndic military. That was a first, but then his internal enemies had never before posed deadly threats to him and the ships of the fleet.
Five days along in jump space, he got the sort of brief message that was all that could be transmitted there. Making progress, from Captain Cresida. If she could figure out how to defuse even partially the threat of human-species extinction via hypernet gate collapses, it would remove a great weight from his shoulders.
Nine days, one hour, and six minutes from the time they jumped from Wendig, the Alliance fleet flashed into normal space at the Syndic star system Cavalos, its weapons ready for action and its sensors scanning for targets. But no mines awaited here, nor a Syndic flotilla or picket ships at the jump points. Apparently the unexpected Alliance victory at Lakota had badly thrown off the Syndics.
Cavalos did indeed have a decent human presence remaining. A halfway-comfortable world orbited about eight light-minutes from the star, and an even half dozen other significant planets swung around the star farther out, including a typical number of three gas giants, one with a fair amount of activity still apparent at mines and an orbiting facility. Near the inhabited world an obsolete Syndic light cruiser and a couple of even-more-obsolete “nickel” corvettes orbited.
Geary studied the situation, then looked to Desjani. “Just a standard self-defense force for a system deep in Syndic space. No threat to us.”
She shrugged. “We should take them out if the chance arises. They are legitimate targets.”
“I know. But I don’t expect them to be
dumb enough to charge us, and they’re not worth the time or fuel cells it’d take to try to chase them down.”
Desjani nodded this time. “They’re junk anyway. As far as internal threats go, all of the systems-security officers in the fleet are on full alert, but nothing has popped up yet.”
No apparent threat to the fleet. That left room to worry about the Syndics from Wendig again. “This star system doesn’t seem to have suffered much deterioration since the hypernet was built. Should we drop our passengers off at that orbital facility? It’s not too far out of the way and won’t take us far into the star system.” The Syndic facility orbiting the gas giant was one and a quarter light-hours distant from the Alliance fleet, a bit off the track the fleet would have followed if going directly to the jump points for the next two stars Geary had to chose from, Anahalt or Dilawa. Not too far off, though. The main cost of dropping off the Syndic civilians would be the need to slow the fleet down again while the shuttles made their deliveries, a small loss in time and a small but real price in fuel cells.
Desjani pursed her lips as she checked the reports from the fleet’s sensors. “It’s got a fair amount of cold areas, which means they’ve got the ability to expand back into those if they need to. Either that, or they’ve got excess life support in the still-occupied areas. They should easily be able to absorb all of the civilians from Wendig.”
“Co-President Rione?” Geary asked.
“I defer to your professional judgments on the matter,” Rione replied.
“All right then.” Geary organized his thoughts for a moment, then activated his comm circuit. “This is Captain John Geary, commanding officer of the Alliance fleet, making an open broadcast to the inhabitants and authorities of the Syndicate Worlds’ star system Cavalos. We do not intend engaging in any military actions in this star system unless attacked. If we are attacked, we will reply with all necessary force.”