“Yes, sir. I had the impression that he also wanted to get back to Alliance space as fast as possible for other reasons, but I could only speculate as to those.”
“Please do,” Iceni said.
Bradamont looked uncomfortable. “Internal issues. Alliance politics. Possible power struggles. I don’t know. But he didn’t recall me. Admiral Geary left me here to continue assisting Midway in any way I can. That at least means his wishes continue to have weight.”
“Weight?” Iceni asked. “You still maintain that Black Jack is not directly ruling the Alliance?”
“I am certain that he is not,” Bradamont said firmly. “He swore an oath to the Alliance. He gave his word of honor.”
Iceni barely stopped herself from a reflexive rolling of her eyes, and could see the other former Syndicate citizens at the table also having trouble suppressing their reactions.
Surprisingly, it was Gozen who spoke up. “That might mean something,” she offered. “It’s Black Jack. He doesn’t lie. The Syndicate does all it can to keep people from hearing anything, but in the ranks everybody knew what he’d done.”
“Besides,” Drakon added, “Black Jack wouldn’t have had any reason to withhold critical information from us. He knows we’re the front line against the enigmas.”
Iceni made a casting-away gesture with one hand. “True enough, but if Black Jack is tied up with events in Alliance space, he’s not going to be back here in force anytime soon.” A sudden thought came to her. “Those damaged Dancer ships. Could they have acquired that damage fighting a battle in Alliance space?”
“Black Jack against somebody else inside the Alliance?” Drakon asked. “Why would the Dancers help Black Jack in some internal fight?”
“They would if it involved something they cared about, and they seem to care about Black Jack,” Iceni said. She noticed that Bradamont, normally as composed as only a veteran battle cruiser commander could be, looked unusually rattled by the turn in the conversation. “Yes, Captain?”
“I… just…” Bradamont swallowed and regained her composure. “It could mean some kind of civil war within the Alliance. That’s difficult to think about.”
“But it is possible?” Iceni asked. “We’ve been living with various forms of rebellion inside Syndicate space for some time.”
“No, that’s not the same thing,” Bradamont insisted. “The Syndicate Worlds does not allow star systems to leave. You have to fight your way free. But if the people of a star system wanted to leave the Alliance, they would be allowed to go. They wouldn’t have to go to war.”
“Have any star systems ever actually left the Alliance?” Drakon asked.
“A couple. Usually not, though, because they know they can leave if they really want to, and that makes it easier to compromise. And both the Callas Republic and the Rift Federation have distanced themselves from the Alliance since the war ended, though neither has completely severed ties as far as I know.” Bradamont looked around at the others. “I can tell that you don’t believe me.”
Malin answered, his eyes hooded in thought. “It does make sense. If you hold a leash very tightly, the leashed animal will fight against it. As we have against the Syndicate. If you let go the leash, the animal will run. But if you give the animal slack, let it move about, it will not see the need to fight or run. You can work together.”
“Nice comparison, Colonel,” Drakon said dryly.
“It’s important, General,” Malin said. “I know that you and President Iceni are still discussing a grouping of star systems. Perhaps we should make that a principle of such an association.”
“We have other principles,” Bradamont cautioned. “In order to remain within the Alliance, star systems have to abide by basic rules of human rights, and freedom, and representative government. If they break those rules, the Alliance can intervene on behalf of the people. It is rare, but it has happened.”
“A leash still implies control,” Iceni said. “We will have to handle diplomacy with other star systems very carefully to ensure our offered hand is not perceived to be holding a chain. If they get that impression of us, we’ll never be able to depend upon them. We certainly do not have the means to force them to do as we want for extended periods. They might agree under conditions of a major threat like our battleship, but would balk the moment the battleship went elsewhere.”
She called up a display over the table, the stars in this region of space winking into life in front of everyone. “All right. We have already sent messages to the Dancers asking for more information. From what we know, and from what Captain Bradamont has told us, it is unlikely that the Dancers will elaborate. But the mere presence of the Dancers here, along with the detection of an enigma reconnaissance ship at Iwa and the warning message the Dancers have twice given us, makes it look very much as if the enigmas will be able to attack other human-occupied star systems. What do we do about it?”
“There have been no reports from other nearby star systems of enigma ship detections?” Bradamont asked.
“Nothing from Taroa or Ulindi,” Colonel Malin said. “Those two star systems, along with Iwa, are the closest star systems accessible to the enigmas.”
“But Taroa and Ulindi are a bit farther away,” Iceni noted.
“From enigma territory to Iwa slightly exceeds the maximum we could manage with Alliance jump drives,” Bradamont said. “But it’s close. If the jump drives of the enigmas are similar to ours, they wouldn’t need a major breakthrough to manage that jump.”
“But there isn’t any jump point where that enigma ship arrived at Iwa.”
Bradamont frowned, her eyes on the stars floating above the table. “The methods we use to spot jump points are derived from the jump drives. Our sensors, and I assume Syndicate Worlds sensors, basically find any jump point that our jump drives can access. If the enigmas have tweaked the jump drives in a way that makes them more… sensitive? Effective? They might be able to spot jump points they can use but we cannot.”
“I like rational explanations,” Iceni said. “So, for the time being, assume the threat is confined to Midway and Iwa, but might expand to cover Ulindi and Taroa. Recommendations?”
“We must take Iwa,” Malin said.
“Iwa isn’t worth taking,” Drakon groused.
“But if the enigmas turn it into a base, establish a foothold there—”
“What does the Syndicate Worlds have on the other side of Iwa?” Bradamont asked.
“Not much,” Malin replied. “They have a shaky hold on Palau and Moorea Star Systems. We have information that Moorea may have already left Syndicate control.”
“They’ve declared independence?” Bradamont asked.
“No. We have not been able to confirm it yet, but it appears Moorea has been conquered by forces loyal to Granaile Imallye, who may be a warlord, or a pirate with a large appetite. Moorea would be the third star system that she has seized control over.”
“What does she title herself?” Iceni asked. “You can tell a lot about someone’s intentions by the titles they assume.”
“She uses no title,” Malin said. “She is just known as Granaile Imallye.”
“That does not give me a warm and fuzzy,” Bradamont commented. “Someone who doesn’t think they even need a rank or title to command is someone with a lot of confidence in themselves.”
“And a bit of an enigma as well, in the human sense of the term,” Iceni said. “But I don’t see any alternative to making direct contact with this Imallye and finding out her intentions. If the enigmas establish a presence at Iwa, and her forces are at Moorea, she’s going to end up fighting the enigmas, too, and perhaps soon.”
“I agree,” Drakon said. “We don’t have to like Imallye, but we can’t afford to be fighting her and the enigmas and the Syndicate. We have to find out if we can live with her, or if we’re going to have to get rid of her.”