“Yes. Or our mysterious enemies. Somehow they figured out we were here and sent the collapse order.” Desjani leaned back, her posture still tense. “If they had sent that order earlier, before the Syndics deactivated the catastrophic-collapse routines, they would have decapitated the Syndicate Worlds and wiped out the Alliance fleet.”
“Nice for them.” Geary rubbed his chin, thinking about unfinished business. “It’s not going to end here, is it?”
“Hell, no, sir.”
“There’s a way the aliens could have found out we were here, and that’s through the Syndic ships.” Geary drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. “Some of the Syndic warships, especially the battleships, are crippled but still intact. We need to get some of our ships over to them to ‘provide assistance.’ ” Desjani raised disbelieving eyebrows at him. “We’ll get some people aboard them, whether they like it or not. We’ll make a humanitarian gesture, assist with wounded and evacuating crew who couldn’t get off in escape pods. We’ll also examine the Syndic operating systems for the alien worms while we’re doing that.”
Desjani’s expression cleared. “If the worms are there, we’ll know the Syndics don’t know about them.”
“Exactly. And it will tell us how the aliens learned we were here. If the worms aren’t there, it could mean the Syndics have also figured out how to neutralize them, or it could mean the aliens chose not to spy on the Syndics.”
“If I were you, I wouldn’t place any money on that second possibility. Whatever those things are, they seem to have pushed for every advantage they can get.” Desjani shook her head. “But the cover story will be that we’re helping the Syndics. Even you aren’t going to have a lot of sailors volunteering for those boarding teams.”
“I know.” Geary grinned. “But I’ve got a lot of Marines.”
General Carabali took her orders in stride, only the smallest smile betraying her satisfaction when she learned the real reason for the aid missions. “Admiral, I recommend you send the battleships and battle cruisers carrying my Marines very close to the stricken Syndic warships. With the fleet firepower looming close, it will lessen any chance that the Syndic crews might attempt resistance that could cause further damage to their systems.”
Not to mention further damaging the Syndic crews themselves. “Good idea. We’re putting the plan together now. I’ll notify you as soon as the ships are selected, so you can brief your Marines. If you need any fleet-system expert assistance, just let me know, and I’ll round up enough ‘volunteers.’ ”
“Thank you, sir. I have a number of Marine systems personnel who should be able to fill the need, but they might require briefings on the worms they’re looking for since you say they’re based on an unusual principle.”
“Very unusual, General. I’ll make sure the systems-security officers on the assigned ships are standing by to provide those briefings.”
He once again tried to relax. Unless the star literally went nova without warning, there shouldn’t be any other threat capable of endangering his fleet. But as the last Syndic battleship went dark under the fire from Duellos’s strike force, Geary called down to the politicians. “You might inform the new Executive Council that if they assure us the surviving warships from the flotilla will not attack, then we will avoid destroying those warships.”
Rione smiled humorlessly. “I believe the new Syndic leaders are eager to ensure the continued existence of as many of the remaining warships as they can. Congratulations on your victory, Admiral.”
“Thank you. I’m counting on you to turn that victory into peace.”
“I’ll do what I can.”
The next several hours had enough distractions to pass fairly quickly as elements of the Alliance fleet closed on some of the derelict Syndic battleships and began sending over Marine Assistance Teams, which didn’t appear to vary all that much in composition, armor, and armament from Marine Assault Squads. “A MAT has a primarily noncombat mission and a MAS has a primary combat mission,” General Carabali explained. “Of course, each is configured so that a MAT can switch to carrying out the mission of a MAS, and vice versa.”
“Basically, then,” Geary said, “they’re exactly the same thing with different names.”
“No, sir,” Carabali replied seriously. “They’re different things with exactly the same capabilities. Tactical instructions are very clear on that.”
Debating semantics with a Marine who had official definitions on her side didn’t seem like a winning way to spend time, so Geary accepted whatever logic was at work and went back to watching the Marines comb through the wrecks of the Syndic battleships. He gave in to temptation a few times and pulled up images from some of the Marines, command and control video that offered the exact view those Marines saw through their helmet visors. But the interior of every Syndic battleship looked about the same, intensive damage having reduced the wrecks to an ugly sameness. Where surviving Syndic sailors were found alive but marooned without working escape pods, the Marines insisted that the Syndics accompany them off the derelicts, which (General Carabali assured Geary) was not at all the same as taking the Syndics prisoner.
“Most systems on the battleships were destroyed, and those that still functioned had been wiped clean when the crew abandoned ship,” Carabali eventually reported. “But the fleet-system code monkeys had told us that these unusual worms would not be affected by normal system wipes or sanitizing, and they were right. We found traces of those worms in a number of places.”
So Boyens hadn’t withheld information about the alien worms. It seemed the Syndics really didn’t know about them. “What systems were affected?”
“We can’t be certain,” Carabali admitted. “The enemy battleships were so shot up that functions had been automatically routed by damage-control routines through any available processor and internal server or network. As a result, we can’t isolate which specific subsystems on the Syndic ships were originally infected by the worms.”
“Thank you, General. Excellent work.”
“Will there be more work for my Marines, sir? Somewhere on a planet’s surface?”
“I don’t know, General. I’ll let you know as soon as I know.”
Geary rubbed his eyes again, wishing he could get some real rest. He had retired to his stateroom, but the compartment felt more like a prison than a refuge just then. How long would the politicians talk? The politicians had hauled CEO Boyens out of his confinement to assist them, which might or might not be a good sign.
Calling up a display, he pulled out the scale to see what was happening. Near where the hypernet gate had been, the mass of merchant ships carrying FACs still hung almost motionless, as if waiting for orders even though their mission had been completely overtaken by events and even though there was no longer a hypernet gate through which attackers could arrive to be ambushed. The lone HuK that had arrived via the hypernet gate before its collapse had begun transiting across the edge of the star system toward the jump point for Mandalon, but at a velocity that suggested it didn’t expect to receive orders to jump anytime soon.
Captain Smyth on Tanuki had been a whirlwind of activity, directing the other auxiliaries to close on the most badly damaged warships and provide extra assistance in fixing the most serious damage.
Geary had spoken to Commander Lavona on Adroit, formally appointing her commanding officer until further notice and hinting broadly that he wanted the investigation into Captain Kattnig’s death completed very soon and what he expected the results to be. Lavona had seemed more than pleased to follow Geary’s lead on the matter. “I don’t know why things happened the way they did in the battle, but he was a good officer, Admiral.”