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Rione raised one eyebrow at Smythe. “My reading of the Syndic CEO also fits our conclusions. From the beginning, she seemed oddly encouraging in our desire to recover the prisoners at the camp, and has been just as oddly nervous when we halted our recovery, repeatedly asking what the delay is and making vague warnings about what might happen if we don’t recover the prisoners soon.”

“They want us back there,” Iger agreed.

“What do we know about the trigger for the weapon?” Geary asked. “There’s no way to strike at the weapon itself without killing the prisoners.”

Smythe spread his hands, looking to either side at Jamenson and Hopper, then to Iger. “The few records we have available on that concept don’t specify design features like that.”

Hopper made a face. “The trigger is the weak point,” she said. “You cannot afford to have something like that go off by accident. Or not go off when you want it to. The trigger has to be extremely reliable and extremely secure.”

“Landline?” Smythe said.

“Armored landlines,” Hopper agreed. “Buried. Redundant.”

“Wouldn’t there be one place from which the fire command was sent?” Jamenson suggested.

This time Hopper nodded. “A single location. Multiple locations would drastically increase the risk of a stray signal or of someone’s tapping into the extra cables required. Most of all, a single location can remain firmly under control. That trigger has to be accessible only by the highest authority. It really is a doomsday weapon.”

“What are the odds we can locate and cut or subvert the comm cables?” Carabali asked her.

“Astronomical,” Hopper replied. “These wouldn’t be standard cables. They’d not only be heavily armored and shielded against radiation, but also coated with multiple layers of intrusion-detection material and surrounded by other intrusion-detection sensors. I am certain that you couldn’t even get a nanoprobe near one of those cables without setting off alarms.”

“That leaves the trigger,” Carabali said.

“Yes. If you get to the trigger, you can either set off the weapon prematurely or keep anyone else from setting it off. But you have to find the trigger, then you have to get to it. It’s going to be the most securely guarded spot on the planet.”

“Can we get an attack force down to the surface undetected?” Geary asked.

“Yes, Admiral,” Carabali said. “The Syndics left most of the defenses in this star system unrepaired, so we wouldn’t suspect what defensive work they had done. Their orbital and atmospheric sensors are few and obsolete. Normally, I wouldn’t want to drop scouts in stealth armor through atmosphere onto a heavily guarded area, but under these circumstances, they should be able to reach the target undetected.”

“But where do we land those scouts?” Desjani wondered.

Lieutenant Jamenson looked surprised at the question. “At the most heavily guarded spot on the planet, of course.”

Iger grinned at Jamenson, his earlier gloom replaced by enthusiasm and perhaps something else as he looked at the green-haired lieutenant. “And we already know where that spot is.” Iger worked his controls rapidly, until sharp images appeared above the table. “Not new construction, but recently modified, and close to the main command and control facility on the planet, which is also close to the main Syndic administrative offices. See where the paving is widely cracked along this route leading toward the site? They brought in heavy materials. And these signal signatures indicate an extensive localized sensor net using state-of-the-art Syndic equipment.”

Carabali nodded, her eyes studying the images. “New defensive bunkers, too. Automated, from the looks of them, but there are at least three occupied sentry posts. Layered defenses, heavily camouflaged. How did you get these images?”

Iger swelled with pride but kept his tone of voice matter-of-fact. “We identified the Syndic headquarters and sent down stealthed drones for close-in collection when we first approached the planet. That’s standard procedure. We had planned to recover the drones during the prisoner pickup, but when that was stopped, and the drones were stuck down there, we took advantage of the extra time to conduct more in-depth surveillance.”

“Well done,” Carabali said. “Where are the drones now? Still active?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Iger was clearly trying very hard not to smile widely. Praise from operational commanders for fleet intel did not come all that often. “The drones are flying random, low-observable patterns, conserving power.”

“The Syndics haven’t spotted the uplinks from the drones?” Geary asked.

“No, sir,” Iger replied confidently. “If they had a decent satellite net about the planet, they would have a good chance of picking something up even though we’re using highly directional burst transmissions. But the sat net is old, with a lot of holes in it.”

Desjani tapped one finger on the table, looking dissatisfied. “Isn’t it a bit obvious? Why didn’t they fix the cracks where the heavy stuff was brought in?”

Smythe smiled indulgently. “Not in the task order, most likely. Someone would have had to anticipate the pavement there would crack and write in that the cracks needed to be repaired in ways that weren’t easily detected as new work. Someone probably did spot the need for that after the pavement was cracked, but fixing that would require a task order modification, which would need approval from all the right authorities up the chain of command, and—”

“They’ll probably get approval to fix the cracks in another couple of years or so,” Geary said.

“At best,” Smythe agreed. “If it gets approved at all. Most of this work we’re seeing is pretty good. A few sloppy places, but they must have been terribly rushed. Those sloppy places are what keyed Lieutenant Iger’s drones to focus on particular spots. I keep telling you, Admiral, that it is always a good idea to give engineers enough time to do a job right.”

“When I have the luxury of having enough time,” Geary said dryly, “I’ll give you enough time as well. Can we do this with a reasonable chance of success? How many Marines can you send down, General?”

“Same as before,” Carabali said. “Thirty. That’s how much stealth armor we have. Can thirty do the job? Looking at these images, I think so, but I’ll have a talk with my most experienced force-recon officers and senior enlisted and see what they say.”

Desjani made a face. “We’ll have to coordinate the drops of the Marines and the movements of our ships and shuttles so that everything happens within an extremely precise timeline. I don’t like timelines that require that kind of precision, that don’t have room for the unexpected, but I guess we don’t have any choice. How do we get those Marines out after we’ve pulled up the prisoners?”

“I think our battleships can handle that,” Geary said. “General, consult with your experts, give me a firm go/no-go, then get me a plan. Emissary Rione, please contact the Syndic CEO again, tell her the military bureaucracy and regulations are still holding things up but we’re planning on heading back in soon to get the prisoner recovery done. Lieutenant Iger, have your drones keep a close eye on that area and collect any more information they can without compromising their presence. Ensure that Lieutenant Jamenson is kept apprised of new information. Lieutenant Jamenson, keep doing what you’ve been doing. Commander Hopper, anything you can tell the Marines about the likely configuration of the Syndic trigger will be a great help. Contact General Carabali directly but keep Captain Smythe in the loop.”