“More local military deploying,” Colonel Voston reported, his voice and words terse. “Armor and heavy weapons as well as some leg ground forces.”
Geary took a look at part of his display, where a partial globe centered on the refugees’ landing site showed military bases over much of the planet. “They’re moving everywhere, not just near you.”
“Right. We can’t tell where they’re going, because all the orders we’re picking up from the government are telling them to remain in garrison. Those forces aren’t following those orders, though. My hack and cracks aren’t picking up anything that might tell us their intentions from the units that are moving, so if they are communicating with each other, they’re using means that no one can intercept.”
“This was a Syndic star system,” Geary said. “From what I’ve heard, figuring out how to communicate without being intercepted is a common thing in Syndic societies.”
Voston frowned. “Admiral, we don’t know why they’re moving or where. We’ve got lots of Syndics crowding us from outside our perimeter, lots of Syndics crowding us from inside the perimeter, and the numbers keep going up as the crowds get bigger, and more refugees get dropped off. If more Syndic ground forces start showing up, things could hit the fan real fast.”
“They’re not Syndics, Colonel. We’re watching them from up here, too. You’ve got three warbirds flying close support overhead and a lot of warships ready to provide bombardment support.” He knew why Colonel Voston was worried. Another virtual window before Geary showed an overhead view of the landing site. There had been a wide, open band around the Alliance soldiers protecting the perimeter, but as more refugees had arrived, their numbers had pressed outward closer to the soldiers, and the growing crowds outside the perimeter had slowly edged their way inward. Colonel Voston’s troops occupied a gradually narrowing space separating the much larger groups of what the Alliance soldiers still saw as Syndics. Even the calmest troops would be rattled under those circumstances.
“Captain Duellos,” Geary said. “Have your comm officer try to get direct contact with some of those local ground forces units that are on the move. I also want a feed here so I can listen in to the soldiers of Colonel Voston’s regiment.”
Listening to the ground forces communications, Geary could feel the battle-scarred veterans growing more nervous and more dangerous as the crowds came closer and kept growing in size and intensity. Ironically, his idea to use Araya and Naxos to stir up popular unrest was succeeding so well that it threatened to cause a disaster. If Voston’s battle-weary troops were pressed too hard and opened fire…
“Lieutenant Popova, this is Admiral Geary.”
“Night Witch here, sir,” Lieutenant Popova answered immediately.
“Take your warbirds as low over the refugee drop-off site as possible. I want them to look as intimidating as you can manage. We have to hold back those crowds.”
“We’re on it, sir.”
He might lack enough of other assets, but at least he had a lot of shuttles since that had been necessary to off-load all the refugees. “Captain Duellos, have your ops people help arrange the shuttles so we can pull up Colonel Voston’s regiment in only two lifts.”
“That may be difficult, Admiral,” Duellos cautioned.
“I know. That’s why I want your people working on it. I know they can make it happen.” It was half an expression of how he really felt, or hoped, and half a public statement of confidence in Duellos’s crew that might inspire them to do more than they themselves believed possible. Automated systems could spit out the numbers and the load plan in seconds, but only humans could spot unconventional ways to get around obstacles that stubborn software saw as unconquerable.
“Admiral, this is getting worse fast!” Voston called.
“I am on top of this,” Geary replied, trying to sound confident without seeming oblivious to the real problems facing Voston’s soldiers. “The crowds—”
“It’s the local military and those toughs working for the government! They’re either pushing closer on their own or forcing civilians ahead of them closer to us! We—”
Voston broke off as a single Alliance FAC roared close over his head, pivoting and braking simultaneously to drift above the thin line of Alliance soldiers, its vertical lift drives thundering out a storm of exhaust that had no effect on the soldiers in their battle armor but physically drove back the nearest civilians.
Geary checked his overhead view, seeing the other two FACs similarly employed. “We’re almost finished, Colonel. The last shuttles carrying refugees are on their way down.”
“Understood, sir.” Voston’s grin was tense, a sheen of sweat on his face. “We’ll hold the line.”
“Admiral, we have comms with a local armored unit!”
Despite his worries about Voston and his soldiers, Geary had to switch his attention to a new virtual window that popped into existence, showing a grim-faced woman in a uniform only slightly modified from its Syndicate Worlds origin. She was clearly inside an armored vehicle, one that was moving rapidly. “I need to know your intentions,” Geary said without preamble.
“Why?” the woman replied.
“Because I have troops on the ground on your planet, engaged in ensuring the safe return to your world of citizens of your world. We will leave as soon as that operation is completed. I don’t want my troops harmed, and I don’t want those citizens hurt, either.”
“You’re Alliance,” the woman spat. “You don’t—” Her eyes narrowed, regarding Geary. “My equipment gives me an ID on you. Are you Black Jack?”
“I am Admiral Geary, yes.”
The eyes widened, then the woman nodded. “We aren’t going to engage your forces unless they try to stay after returning all of our people. We are no threat to our people.”
“You are heading toward the site where we are dropping off the refugees.”
“There are others there who need to be dealt with. Internal matters.”
An alert drew Geary’s eyes to his display. “There are two drones closing on the site, as well.”
“They’re not ours,” the woman said.
“Then I’m taking them down.”
“Be my guest.”
“Lieutenant Popova, take out those drones.” He spoke to the armored forces commander again. “Hold off until I get my troops off the ground.”
The armored forces commander eyed him for a long moment, then nodded. “We have no interest in engaging your forces,” she repeated.
The window vanished, and Geary swung his head to focus on Colonel Voston once more. “The local military forces closing on your position intend engaging the other locals. They will not engage you.”
“I’d rather not take the word of a Syndic for that, Admiral!”
“You don’t have to. We’re getting you out of there.” Geary spared another few seconds to run his eyes down the lift plan that Captain Duellos’s crew had put together. “Stand by to start the lift. Tell your hack and cracks to give those two refugee leaders, Araya and Naxos, a couple of minutes’ warning before they shut down their gear to leave so the leaders can broadcast some final messages.”
“Yes, sir. Does the Admiral understand how dangerous it will be between lifts? I’ll only have half my regiment left down here against growing numbers of hostiles.”
“I understand, Colonel. We’ll get this done as quickly as possible. Lieutenant Popova,” Geary added, knowing that Voston could also hear this transmission, “you are weapons free if you spot any threats to the ground forces or the shuttles.”
“Yes, sir,” Popova replied, sounding happy. “We’ve got your six, Colonel.”
Minutes passed at a crawl despite all of the activity as the Alliance shuttles grounded, barely able to find room to land inside the now-crowded landing area, the local military forces that had left their garrisons came closer to the outer edges of the now-massive crowds surrounding that area, and the local forces and government toughs near the refugees pressed closer to the Alliance perimeter despite the aggressive movements of the FACs overhead.