Someone finally found their voice. “The Syndics signed a peace treaty!”
“Tiyannak is in revolt. They’re not a Syndic star system anymore.”
“How did you learn all this?” President Astrida asked as she cast accusing looks at some of her own officials. “I have heard nothing of this.”
“The refugees told me,” Geary said.
“They’ve told us nothing!” one of those subject to the president’s glower insisted. “I’ve been up to some of those freighters myself. All they would talk about is finding jobs.”
“Is that what they said?”
“They said… they said they could work. They were looking for somewhere they could work. They wouldn’t tell us anything else! I asked for military assistance in interrogations, but we couldn’t get any because I was told the refugees were a civil problem! I threatened the Syndics, I told them what we would do, and they didn’t say anything else.” The woman focused on Geary. “What did you do? What interrogation tricks did you use? What finally scared them into cooperating?”
“I talked to them,” Geary said. Those around the table stared back, uncomprehending. “That’s all. I talked to them. It is possible to talk to Syndics. And these aren’t even Syndics any longer. But we have to talk to them. Not interrogate them, not threaten them, just talk to them. Those people have spent their lives being threatened by their own leaders,” Geary added, “and by an internal security service that had almost unchecked power. Our threats seem like child’s play to them. They’ve learned how to avoid answering questions, how to avoid saying things, how to avoid any truth that might focus attention on them or get them into trouble. They would only talk to you about the work they could do because they thought that was the only safe topic—because they think that we are just like their own leaders.”
“So, they’re stupid,” someone said scornfully.
Geary felt his face flush with anger. “No. They’re survivors. They’re operating according to the rules they know. They don’t trust anyone. But when I put the discussion in terms of self-interest, both ours and theirs, then they understood. My fleet database had enough information about Tiyannak and the Syndic-controlled star system at Yael to confirm part of what the refugees told me. Tiyannak is a resource-poor star system that was positioned well for a big Syndic ship refit and repair base just behind Syndic front lines. Now they’re not under Syndic control, and they’re still resource-poor, but they’ve got the warships the Syndics had at that base. The refugees didn’t understand the significance to us of the battleship that Tiyannak has. They just saw it as a threat to Batara. But if the battleship is at Batara, it’s a threat to Adriana.”
President Astrida glared at the star display. “The defenses at Yokai cannot stop it? Why not?”
“Because there are no defenses at Yokai. They’ve all been shut down. The star system has been totally abandoned by the Alliance.”
General Sissons spoke loudly. “That information is classified. It should not—”
“Everyone here should be authorized to see it,” Geary broke in. “I’m releasing it to them on my authority.”
“But… for a hundred years we have been on the front lines… all right, near the front lines,” a government official complained plaintively. “Right behind them. And the Alliance has been here to defend us.”
“The Alliance government has been cutting expenditures right and left as the amount of revenue flowing in has dwindled,” Geary said. “I shouldn’t have to explain that. I know that some senators in other star systems who argued for the need for maintaining more revenue to the central government for Alliance-wide priorities were defeated in elections. I also know that everyone is tired of war, tired of the endless fighting and deaths and destruction. Ending the war has reduced the scale of the threat to us. But it didn’t make it go away, and it has created some new threats.”
He paused to look around the table, catching the eyes of each person in turn, except for General Sissons, who kept his gaze fixed firmly on the table before him. “You know my fleet was sent out far beyond the frontiers of the Alliance. You must have heard that we took losses. Ships. Sailors and Marines. Men and women.”
President Astrida held up her hands in a gesture of half surrender. “You don’t need to lecture us on the sacrifices demanded of the armed forces, Admiral. Too many of us have lost people close to us. Have you looked at the economies of the star systems in the Alliance? Very few are doing well right now. We are willing to pay… what is necessary to the common good, to the common defense. But it is very hard to know what is necessary when so much is kept secret from us. Colonel Galland told us when her wing was threatened with removal, and we moved to save them. We were not told of these other reductions. We were not given a voice in the decision.”
“Why weren’t we told?” someone else demanded.
Colonel Galland shook her head. “Your president already said why. Secrecy.”
“Did you know?” the president demanded of General Shwartz.
“No, Madam President,” Shwartz denied, her eyes on General Sissons revealing anger and betrayal.
“It had nothing to do with defenses in this star system!” Sissons snarled.
“What about the status of your forces in this star system?” Geary asked. “Has that been shared with those responsible for local defense?”
Sissons didn’t answer, glaring down the table in such a way that he avoided eye contact with everyone.
“General Shwartz?” President Astrida asked.
“All I know is that a couple of joint training exercises have been canceled in the last few months,” Shwartz said. “Lack of funding was given as the reason.”
“There have been persistent rumors that ground forces units were leaving the star system,” a short, thin man said. “We were told they were rotating into Yokai.”
“They weren’t,” Geary said. “My best information is that Alliance ground forces in Adriana now measure about two brigades. Total.”
President Astrida slammed her fist onto the table hard enough to make the stars themselves vibrate inside the display for a moment. “Why weren’t we told? Why weren’t we told? What excuse does the Alliance have for leaving us exposed this way?”
Geary spoke with slow clarity, driving home his point. “I understand that Adriana is one of the many star systems in the Alliance petitioning to have their payments to the Alliance reduced. Who did you think was going to pay for the defense of your own star system if you wouldn’t?”
A long silence was broken by the president, who glared at Geary. “Adriana contributed a tremendous amount to the defense of the Alliance during the war.”
“With all due respect, Madam President, I know what was at Adriana before the war, and I can see what’s here now. Other star systems, a lot of them, must have contributed a lot of money that was used to defend this star system.”
She smiled back at him, a thin-lipped expression without much humor to it. “I forgot who I was dealing with. You passed through Adriana in those days? Before the war?”
Everyone got that look as they stared at him, the one he hated.
Geary nodded, gazing steadily back at the president. “Star systems complained about their taxes to the Alliance back then, too. They paid a lot less, but they still complained.”
“Why do we need to discuss money?” a woman demanded. “You are here, Admiral, with three battle cruisers. Surely you can defeat a single battleship with that force.”