Rione, calling from her stateroom on Dauntless, blinked weariness from her eyes and gestured in the direction of the Midway freighter. “There’s something unexpected on that freighter.”
“Now what?” He didn’t bother trying to disguise his anger. If Midway was going to play games with him after all this fleet had done to defend the people here—
“Not a bad thing, I think. Two representatives from General Drakon. They used the private comm channel I’ve been talking with President Iceni on.” Rione smiled crookedly. “I have already inquired whether they intended asking for your support for General Drakon against President Iceni. They insist that is not why they are here.”
“Good. They wouldn’t have gotten that support.” He drummed his fingers on the side of his seat, giving Rione’s image a skeptical look. She had every right to look tired, as she been negotiating for over a week with the authorities here, wrangling with CEO Boyens, and trying to develop better communications with the Dancers. “What do they want?” Geary asked. “What’s so secret that they had to sneak up here in person?”
“Something they will only discuss with you. In person. You may safely assume it is a matter too sensitive to risk any chance at all of a message being intercepted.”
“The hell.” Geary glowered at the depiction of the freighter on his display. He had learned all too well how even the most secure communications channels could be penetrated, so he understood that aspect of the matter. But… “Me alone? No. There will be at least one other person in any meeting with me and those two.”
“Not me,” Rione said. “I can’t give any implied endorsement by the Alliance government to whatever Drakon is proposing until I have some idea what it is about. Take your captain. She’s equal in rank to the two representatives from Drakon, and she’s sufficiently protective of you to give them pause if they wanted to try anything.”
“It wouldn’t hurt you to occasionally say Tanya Desjani’s name,” Geary pointed out.
“How do you know it wouldn’t hurt?” Rione asked with a smile that carried a great many possible meanings, none of which he wanted to pursue further. “You’ll have to give approval to a shuttle to bring Drakon’s people to Dauntless’s dock. Have fun.”
After breaking the connection with Rione, Geary looked over at Desjani, who was pretending not to have noticed the conversation. “Did you hear any of that?”
She shook her head. “Your privacy field cut in. What did that woman want?”
“Is it so hard for you to say Victoria Rione’s name?” he persisted against his better judgment.
“Yes. Yes, it is.”
“All right.” He would never win this argument, so instead Geary passed on what Rione had told him. “I’ll tell one of the shuttles to bring those two here, and we’ll see what they say.”
“Ancestors help us,” Desjani muttered, then turned to her watch team. “I need combat-configured Marine guards at the shuttle dock, secure conference room 4D576 cleared, and all passageways from the dock to that conference room kept empty of traffic until further notice.”
“Yes, Captain,” Lieutenant Castries replied immediately.
By the time Geary and Tanya reached the shuttle dock, the Marines were already there, fully outfitted in combat armor.
Desjani smiled at the sight of them. “Excellent. There’s nothing like a few Marines when it comes to impressing Syndics face-to-face.”
She led the way inside the dock, where the shuttle had come in and settled, its ramp still sealed. “Open up,” Desjani ordered.
The ramp dropped, and Geary walked to the end of the shuttle’s ramp to look inside.
It only took a few seconds before the two representatives sent by General Drakon appeared at the head of the ramp. Geary had seen both of them before, standing behind General Drakon during some of his messages. One man, one woman, both in uniform. He felt an indefinable sense of alarm as they walked toward him at a measured pace. These two did not look dangerous, but something inside Geary was nonetheless warning him not to underestimate them.
He noticed out of the corners of his eyes the Marine guards shifting positions slightly, preparing themselves to counter anything these two visitors might try.
It had not even occurred to Geary that he might face a personal threat of assassination from Drakon’s representatives. An unpardonably careless failure on his part when meeting face-to-face with Syndics, or former Syndics, he realized. But at least Tanya had shown the foresight to have the Marines on hand.
“Colonel Morgan,” the woman said, as if that name told him everything he would ever need to know about her. She said it like Geary could have said “I’m Black Jack.” But he never did that, and he wondered at this woman who projected that kind of arrogant competence. She was undeniably attractive, in a way that once again disquieted Geary, and she moved with the unconscious grace of someone trained as a dancer or in lethal martial arts. Colonel Morgan was ignoring the presence of the Marines, as if they did not matter, and Geary had the unpleasant feeling that if she had been sent to kill him, the fact that the Marines were here would not have hindered her too much in carrying out that task.
“Colonel Malin,” the man said, more formally, his attitude more reserved, deferential as a subordinate should sound but also conveying a sense that no task would be too difficult. He didn’t seem nearly as dangerous as Morgan. And yet Geary’s instincts warned him that Malin should not be discounted.
He had formed a broad opinion of General Drakon from the official conversations they had engaged in. There had been no unofficial conversations, of course. A professional, Geary had thought. Perhaps not too different from a senior officer in the Alliance.
But Drakon kept these two beside him as close aides. Was that because of the ways in which people operated in the Syndicate Worlds, or was it because Drakon personally was comfortable with such lethally competent individuals close at hand?
Trying not to let his expression reveal his thoughts, Geary nodded in reply to the two colonels’ introductions. They surely knew who he was, so he simply gestured toward Tanya. “Captain Desjani.”
He would have had to have been blind not to have seen the way Desjani, Malin, and Morgan wordlessly sized each other up after the very brief introductions. Tanya eyed the two like she would a force of enemy ships. She obviously also saw the threat in them.
The walk to the secure conference room was brief and silent. The Marines said nothing, and the passageways had been cleared, as Tanya had ordered.
Once inside the room, Geary waited while Tanya sealed the hatch, leaving the Marines outside against his better judgment, then he sat down and nodded to the two colonels without offering them a seat. “What is so important your general had to send two personal representatives? What couldn’t be transmitted by even the most secure message?”
Instead of immediately answering, their eyes went to Desjani, Malin’s look subtly questioning and Morgan’s challenging. “The matter is for your attention only,” Morgan said.
“Those are our orders,” Malin added, with what might have been an annoyed glance at Morgan. “I hope you understand, Admiral.”
Geary leaned back, deliberately emphasizing that he felt unthreatened and secure in his authority. “I hope you understand that I won’t be dictated to on my own flagship. Captain Desjani is the commanding officer of this ship and my most trusted advisor. She will be present for any discussion.”
Malin’s pause was barely apparent, then he nodded in agreement.
Morgan’s look this time was almost amused as it went from Geary to Desjani. “We understand… special relationships,” she said in a way that made Tanya’s jaw visibly tighten.