Geary closed his eyes, slowly counting to ten inside, then opened them again. “Doesn’t that make him in violation of the treaty?”
She glowered though not at him. “Probably.”
“Probably? What the hell does it take to violate the treaty?”
“I don’t know! But whether this level of dispute is the sort of a matter that qualifies as a treaty violation is something that lawyers could dispute indefinitely.”
Geary wondered just how stubborn and angry he looked because he knew that was how he felt. “We don’t have an indefinite period of time, and I’m damned if I’m going to leave the fates of those prisoners up to the arguments of lawyers.”
He had forgotten that Desjani was still linked in until she spoke in a deceptively mild voice. “We may not have lots of time or lots of lawyers, but we’ve got a lot more rocks.”
Instead of rejecting or ignoring Desjani’s words with disdain, Rione paused, her own expression still irate but also thoughtful. “Another demonstration might be a good idea, not because I think it will directly budge this CEO but because we need to find another way to put pressure on him. We need a demonstration that emphasizes to the population just how much their leader’s behavior is endangering them, so that the people of Dunai will insist upon an end to actions that are provoking us.”
Desjani, looking inspired, held up one finger, looking at Geary rather than Rione. “Hold that.” She turned to address the combat systems watch-stander. “Lieutenant, you’ve heard of skip-shots with rocks?”
“Yes, Captain. When some error or unexpected factor causes a kinetic projectile to skip through the upper atmosphere of a planet instead of diving down at its target.”
“Right. Find out if we can do that on purpose, ensuring that the rock either burns up without hitting the surface or bounces back into space after a few skips. We want a deliberate miss that burns through atmosphere.”
“A light show?” Geary asked Desjani, smiling.
“A big light show,” she replied. “Let me use more than three rocks this time, and we can light up the sky on that CEO’s planet.”
As usual, Rione didn’t address Desjani directly, instead speaking just to Geary. “An excellent idea. Accompany that show with a message broadcast to the system populace, a message from you, Admiral. I think the pressure those things generate on the CEO may produce the results we want.”
“If it doesn’t,” Geary said, “I’ll drop a rock on his head and let the lawyers argue about whether that’s a violation of the treaty.”
That earned him a wry smile from Rione. “I was hoping you’d be a moderating influence on your captain, but it appears that, instead, she is influencing you.”
As Rione’s image vanished, Geary looked over to see Desjani beaming. “You know,” Desjani confided, “that’s the first thing that woman has ever said that I can honestly say I was happy to hear.”
He didn’t answer, wondering why something about what Rione had just said felt important. His thoughts wandered for a moment, recalling his first meetings with Desjani, his impressions of her, his shock at the things she once accepted as a natural part of Alliance military operations . . . “That’s it.”
Desjani gave him a questioning look, and he recognized that she had fallen silent when she realized he was lost in thought. She did that automatically these days, giving him time to work out things inside, and he rarely noticed it. “I assume you’re talking about something more important than my opinion of a politician,” Desjani said.
“Thanks for giving me time to think. You always do that, and it helps a lot. No. I’m talking about a politician’s opinion of me.” Geary pointed at his display, where the primary inhabited world glowed. “That Syndic CEO. He knows he’s dealing with me. Not any other fleet officer. Me.”
Her eyes lit with understanding. “The man who doesn’t bombard planets indiscriminately. Who follows the old concepts of honor. We know that word of your policies got around Syndic space pretty quickly.”
“Yes. Mostly to our benefit during the war. But now this CEO thinks he can play games with us because I’ll be restrained and civilized.” Geary turned a grim look on her. “I wonder if his attitude would change if he had to deal with another Alliance fleet officer?”
“One who’s a bit less civilized?” she asked.
“Tanya, I don’t mean—”
“I know exactly what you mean, and it’s all right, because I think you nailed what’s going on here.” Desjani frowned at him. “I can be very intimidating, but—”
“I think the next message to that CEO needs to go out from the officer who has been delegated to deal with the POW issue, and you—”
“But are you sure it should be me?” she asked, her voice sharpening. “I can’t always be your first choice for assignments.”
“Good point.” Even though Tanya was very well qualified for the job, they couldn’t afford to have others think that she was receiving special treatment. He paused to think. “Tulev.”
“Excellent,” Desjani approved. “If the Syndic files on Alliance personnel are any good at all, they’ll have Tulev listed as a survivor of Elyzia. That Syndic CEO will know he’s dealing with a man whose home world was bombarded into an uninhabitable ruin by the Syndics.”
“I’ll call Tulev. You set up the light show. Between his message and your rocks, I think that CEO will rethink his attitude.”
THE Alliance fleet was only thirty light minutes from the second planet when the light show began.
“What do you think?” Desjani asked a bit smugly.
“I don’t know what effect it’s having on the Syndics, but it’s certainly impressing me,” Geary replied. On a part of his display that had been set to show only visual light, the globe of the second planet hung like a marble mottled with white and blue on about a third of the face showing, the rest nightside dark spangled with lights from Syndic cities and towns. But those lights had been eclipsed by fiery streaks of brilliance slashing through the dark and on into the dayside, still so bright that they shone clearly against even the sunlit part of the planet.
Tulev’s message would have reached that planet about half an hour before the aimed-to-miss barrage of kinetic projectiles. Tulev, his customary impassiveness even more evident, so that he seemed as emotionless as stone, had spoken in flat tones that somehow carried more menace than any anger or threatening voice would have. “Your leader is playing with your lives in an attempt to extort money from this fleet. I have been assigned the task of ensuring that all Alliance prisoners in this star system are liberated and taken aboard this fleet. I will carry out my orders by any means necessary and will not tolerate any delays or attempts to impose barriers. You have three hours to inform us of your readiness to peacefully transfer all Alliance prisoners to our custody without any preconditions or hindrances. If this deadline is not met, I will take necessary action. To the honor of our ancestors. Captain Tulev, out.”
The fleet was already a lot closer to the planet, so the answer only took an hour. Geary was still on the bridge of Dauntless when both emissaries called.
“He’s still holding out.”
Geary took a moment before replying to Rione, making sure he had heard right. “The Syndic CEO for this star system is still trying to extort ransom from us?” For some reason, he felt a need to spell it out, so there would be no possible misinterpretation.
“Yes. He’s actually quite defiant about it.” Next to Rione’s image, another window opened.
In the recording of the transmission, the Syndic CEO now displayed an expression Geary had begun thinking of as Intimidating Frown since he had seen exactly the same look on numerous CEOs. “We expected better of Admiral Geary than transparent attempts to strike fear in the innocent populace of our world. These are not the negotiating tactics of civilized people, and surely the living stars look upon these actions with disfavor.”