I can’t ask for advice on this one. If I reach an agreement with Iceni, it might be regarded as contrary to regulations, exceeding my authority, and unlawfully committing the Alliance to actions regarding the internal affairs of the Syndicate Worlds. Anyone I talk to before I make that decision would be implicated in it.
I have to decide alone, so no one else can take a hit for my decision.
He called up a report prepared by intelligence based on message intercepts in this star system and started reading it again. Iceni was still senior CEO here. No surprise there. The second-most-powerful CEO in the star system was the commander of the ground forces, a man named Drakon. Not much was known about him, but he had been involved in several battles along the border with the Alliance and been rated as highly effective by Alliance intelligence, before being mysteriously transferred to an assignment at the Syndic equivalent of the back end of nowhere.
Geary thought of Jason Boyens, the captured Syndic CEO they had brought back to Midway, who said that he had been assigned here, far from the front with the Alliance, as a form of exile. I wonder who Drakon ticked off and what he did?
Also listed was a CEO named Hardrad, who apparently commanded the internal security forces in the star system and whose status ranked parallel to Iceni and Drakon. From what he had seen, Syndic internal security forces wielded immense power. They always had, but that power had been enhanced during the long war, and in some Syndic star systems that had included nuclear weapons as an ultimate safeguard against mass rebellion by planetary populations. He wondered how Iceni planned to handle Hardrad, or if she had already turned him so he would support her.
In other star systems, he had seen firsthand the results of attempts to declare independence from the Syndicate Worlds, the open warfare between military factions, civilian groups, and internal security forces. He hated to think of Midway suffering the same fate, but that was a matter beyond his control.
The report listed more names of sub-CEOs who had been identified in Syndic message traffic, but offered little other information besides a fragmentary order of battle for ground forces and a complete listing of Syndic warships in the star system.
No answers there. Geary went for a walk, down to the spaces deep inside Dauntless, where worship rooms awaited those seeking privacy. He sat down in a vacant room, lighting the ceremonial candle. Honored ancestors, you know the decision I must make. What is your guidance?
He waited, felt nothing, rephrased the question, felt nothing, and finally snuffed out the candle and left.
Outside, he almost bumped into a sailor hastening into the rooms. With an almost comical expression of alarm, the sailor straightened to attention and saluted. “Excuse me, Admiral!”
“Not a problem,” Geary replied, waving the sailor past. “You’ve obviously got some urgent questions to ask.”
“Nothing that urgent, sir.” The sailor smiled sheepishly. “Just me and . . . uh . . . a friend. Whether . . . you know. Personal things. I know the important stuff already, because you’re in command, and you’ll get us home. That’s what my parents asked, will you get home? And I said Admiral Geary’s in command, and they knew that meant the fleet would be all right.”
“Thank you.” He stood there a moment while the sailor rushed onward. Maybe his ancestors had provided an answer. You’ll get us home. Regardless of what happened to him, what was most likely to get these ships and sailors home again?
Back in his stateroom, Geary tried to project matter-of-fact confidence as he sent an answer to Iceni. “I agree to your proposal. I will not provide any specific commitment to defense of this star system from attack by anyone but the enigma race, but you have my word of honor that I will also avoid outright denying such a commitment. I cannot guarantee that this fleet or other Alliance assets will not be ordered by our government to assist the Syndicate Worlds’ central government in reestablishing control of this star system, but I will argue against allowing this fleet to be used in that way, and I will not command such a force.
“In exchange, in addition to the mechanism you have promised to provide, I want a commitment from you that you will not attempt to claim the support of this fleet for your own actions, or declare any backing by me for your plans. If you publicly claim such backing, I will repudiate it. And if you commit atrocities against your own people or attack other star systems, I will regard this agreement as void.”
One other thing. “I would appreciate being apprised of what happened to CEO Boyens after he was released. I await your agreement to my terms and the receipt of the plans for the collapse-prevention mechanism.”
Less than ten minutes after the transmission, Geary’s hatch alert chimed. He allowed entry, surprised to see Lieutenant Iger there. What could have required the intelligence officer to personally visit Geary’s stateroom?
“Admiral,” Iger said, visibly nervous, “there is a matter concerning a superior officer that I am required to take action on.”
TEN
“EXCUSE me?” Geary asked. Had intelligence been monitoring his own transmissions? Was this the sort of loyalty policing he had heard about but had trouble believing would actually take place in the Alliance fleet?
Iger’s nervousness increased. The man was more uncomfortable than Geary had ever seen him. “A . . . a matter concerning a superior officer, Admiral. I am required to report it to you, sir.”
“Report it to me?” It wasn’t about him, then. “Who are we talking about?”
“One of the captains, Admiral. One of the battle cruiser commanders.”
Geary went rigid, staring at Iger. “What is this? Nothing like Captain Kila, is it?”
“No, sir!” Iger shook his head rapidly. “I’m sorry, sir. No. Nothing like that, but it is something I must report to you,” he said for the third time.
It couldn’t be easy making what must be a negative report about a superior officer. Forcing himself to calm down, Geary nodded. “Let that be a lesson to you on how not to break news to me, Lieutenant. Which officer is this?”
“Commander Bradamont, sir. Commanding officer of Dragon.”
Bradamont? Someone whom Desjani herself now trusted? “What has Commander Bradamont done?”
“Sir, Commander Bradamont has accessed the intelligence analysis we did regarding the Syndic military capabilities in this star system.”
The same one that Geary had looked at a little while ago. “She . . . wanted to know about the military capabilities of a potential opponent? One of my battle cruiser commanders wanted to know about Syndic military forces in this star system?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Exactly why is that a problem, Lieutenant Iger?”
Iger, who had been relaxing slightly in response to Geary’s attitude, now grew more uncomfortable again. “Even though her position authorizes Commander Bradamont to access the report, and she has an obvious need to know the information, there’s a security flag on Commander Bradamont’s record, Admiral. I don’t know if you’re aware—”
“You mean when she was a prisoner of the Syndics?” He had accepted what Desjani had told him of the matter rather than dig into Bradamont’s record personally, but it wasn’t surprising to hear that security had kept a special watch on her. “I thought that was resolved.”
“It was, sir, but we’re still required to report under certain circumstances, and . . . sir, have you had the opportunity to review the analysis we did of Syndic military forces in this star system?”
He almost smiled at the extremely careful way in which Iger had asked if Geary had actually read the report yet. “Yes. I just reviewed it again a few minutes ago. What about it generates concern in the case of Commander Bradamont?”