Desjani, walking beside him down one of the passageways of Dauntless, frowned. “That’s an interesting question. How does nothing feel? Maybe you should pass that on to our experts, so they’ll have something to do.”
Fortunately, once the fleet popped out of the hypernet gate at Hasadan, it was only a short jump to Dunai.
Dunai was a decent star system from a human perspective but had little to distinguish it, which was probably why it hadn’t earned a hypernet gate of its own. Three inner planets, the second one orbiting about nine light minutes from its star in the sweet spot where worlds habitable for humans could usually be found. Much farther out, three gas giants orbited, and on the fringes of the star system, a pair of frozen minor planets orbited around each other as they also whirled about their star more than four and a half light hours distant.
The habitable world looked to be comfortable, resources in the solar system more than adequate, a decent amount of civilian space traffic could be seen moving between planets and orbital installations with raw materials, manufactured goods, foodstuffs, and passengers, and the total population was well into the hundreds of millions. A good star system from a human perspective but not a remarkable one.
“It doesn’t look bad at all from here,” Desjani commented, as the fleet’s sensors analyzed the second planet from the star Dunai. “Usually, the Syndics seem to place their labor camps on less desirable worlds.”
“That’s been our experience,” Geary agreed, studying his own display. A variety of climates, some nicely temperate, plenty of water, an atmosphere close to the habitable standard, and lots of well-maintained towns and cities balanced by some areas left wild. “It’s nice.”
“Too nice,” she muttered.
“Sir?” A virtual window had popped open near Geary, from which his intelligence officer, Lieutenant Iger, gazed out. “We’ve confirmed the existence of the prison camp and fixed its location.” A glowing dot appeared on the map floating to the other side of Geary.
Geary knew he was frowning from the way Iger’s expression grew uncertain. “That’s good work, but isn’t the location here a bit surprising? This seems to be a pleasant world, and that’s a decent spot on that planet instead of the camp’s being set somewhere with harsh conditions.”
“Yes, sir, but I think these images we got of the camp help explain that.” Another window, this one revealing a collection of buildings seen from overhead. Very high overhead, of course, since the fleet’s optical sensors had spotted them from many millions of kilometers distant.
He frowned more deeply, staring at what seemed to be well-maintained structures that, from their arrangement, were probably barracks-type buildings. The three fences enclosing the entire place inside multiple layers of security had only a few guard towers, and only about ten meters of dead ground inside them. Most of the area inside the camp appeared to be covered with grass instead of pavement or crushed rock, but there were a number of shade trees as well. Good roads led into the camp to large parking areas. “It looks like the prisoners get moved from the camp fairly frequently.”
“Daily is our guess,” Iger explained. “You notice the camp is not far from a large city. We’re estimating from the arrangement of the camp and some of the Syndic messages and transmissions we’re picking up that the Alliance prisoners have been used as laborers. That’s not unusual for the Syndics, but we’re more used to seeing our prisoners of war having been forcibly employed in mining or agriculture, well away from cities.”
Geary sat back, drumming his fingers on the armrest of his seat. “You don’t think they’ve been employed in hard labor?”
“They could be, sir. Roadwork, for example. But it could also have been easier labor, such as cleaning buildings. Once we get the former prisoners aboard and can debrief them, we’ll know exactly how they’ve been mistreated.”
The use of the term “mistreated” came automatically to Iger, and Geary knew from the labor camps they had already encountered that it was very likely accurate. Still, this labor camp looked much nicer than the bleak prison complexes the fleet had seen in the past. Definitely a prison camp, but not a hellish one. “Let me know if you find anything else.”
As the window containing Iger closed, Desjani leaned back with a sigh. “Nothing much to worry about here. No warships except a couple of Nickel corvettes in that dockyard orbiting the second planet.”
Geary tapped on the symbols for the corvettes, reading details of what the fleet’s sensors had seen. “Our systems estimate the corvettes have been gutted but not for scrapping. There are indications they’re being refitted with new systems.”
“Maybe they’ve got a Captain Smythe here.”
“Partially completed warships hulls,” Geary mused, pointing to a couple of other orbital shipyards. “Three Hunter-Killer-size warships there and one light cruiser–size hull at that other one. They’re not close to completion.”
“Somebody seems to be building themselves a little fleet,” Desjani commented. “Those HuK hulls vary from Syndic standards. Maybe they’re not being built under contract for the central government.”
That was interesting. “Is the local CEO getting ready to defend this star system or preparing to lean on other star systems? Maybe just extortion backed by firepower, maybe outright expansion of control.”
“Is whatever Syndics do to each other our problem?” Desjani asked.
“No. Not this kind of thing, anyway. If we came across an attack under way, we could intervene, though I have no idea if we’d want to, and our orders are extremely vague on what to do in those circumstances.”
“Those ships under construction are easy targets,” she commented. “It would probably be an act of great charity for surrounding star systems if we blew those hulls into tiny fragments.”
He gave her a lopsided smile. “As impressed as I am by your newfound humanitarian impulses, we are at peace with the Syndics now. That means we need a really good reason to blow up something.”
“Well, if you want to get technical about it.” Desjani shook her head. “But, seriously, won’t this be a problem at some point? As long as we’re transiting Syndic space, that is, which as far as I know may happen a lot, and as long as Syndic government control continues to collapse, which as far as I know is going to keep on getting worse, then sooner or later we’re going to come across some shooting going on when we reach a star system. What if it’s one Syndic star system attacking another? The defenders will ask for our help. What do we say? And what if the attackers belong to the Syndic government, and they’re bombarding their own people to reestablish control over that star system? Are we just supposed to sail on through and pretend nothing’s happening?”
He sat back, drumming his fingers on one armrest as he thought. “Our orders dance around that question. They can be interpreted to allow us to act, or to require us to act, or to restrain us from acting, or to outright prohibit us from acting.”
“Meaning that neither the government nor headquarters knew what to do so they left you to deal with the hard choices. I am shocked. Shocked.”
Geary nodded. “With all the focus on the aliens, and my plans to transit Syndic space as quickly as possible, which would hopefully avoid those situations, I haven’t tried to really analyze that problem. Our actions are going to be heavily dependent on the exact circumstances. Maybe our emissaries have some instructions about that particular question that they haven’t shared with us yet.”
“Were they going to tell us before or after we open fire?” Desjani wondered.