“He’ll be remembered that way,” Geary promised.
Geary watched his fleet move, scanned status reports on casualties and damage and repair status, and waited, feeling oddly impotent for a fleet admiral.
When the summons for his presence in the negotiation room finally came, Geary deliberately paused to check his uniform, then walked with a measured pace through the passageways of Dauntless until he reached the secure compartment near the intelligence spaces. Marines stood sentry outside, some of them providing security and some of them the guards who had brought Boyens here and would return him to confinement afterward. Inside the room, the Alliance senators and Syndic CEO Boyens were seated around the table. No virtual presences or active comm screens showed any Syndic leaders or negotiators. Costa appeared belligerent and stubborn, Sakai slightly uncertain, and Rione as usual was masking her true feelings. Syndic CEO Boyens simply seemed depressed.
Rione slid a data unit toward him as Geary took a seat. “We have an agreement. The new leaders of the Syndicate Worlds have signed on to terms essentially matching those the Alliance grand council proposed.”
The news was so much at variance with the expressions around the table that Geary had to think through it twice to be sure that he had heard right. “Isn’t that good?”
Sakai nodded. “It’s very good, Admiral.” He frowned a bit, his eyes meeting Geary’s. “What you see is in part a sense of disbelief. None of us can quite accept that formal hostilities between the Alliance and the Syndicate Worlds will finally come to an end. War between us has been a fact of life for as long as any of us have lived.”
One of the words caught Geary’s attention. “Formal hostilities?”
“Yes.” Costa let the one word drip acid. “The Syndic leaders, the former ones, pushed their planets too hard. The new leaders have confessed that as best they can tell what we saw at Atalia, at Parnosa, and here is happening in pockets all over Syndic space. Rebellion. Revolution. In some cases anarchy.”
“The Syndicate Worlds,” Rione continued, “are falling apart. We drove the last nail into the coffin of the Syndicate Worlds when we wrecked the flotilla here. By so doing we eliminated the last major mobile force responding to the orders of central authority.”
“It wasn’t responding to orders from central authority before you destroyed it,” Boyens said in dejected tones.
“Granted. In any event, that flotilla was the last existing means by which central authority might have suppressed the factors tearing apart the bonds that have long held worlds and peoples in check. The process is playing out at varying rates all across Syndic space, but the bottom line is that the new leaders of the Syndicate Worlds no longer control all that used to be the Syndicate Worlds. It will also complicate the return of Alliance prisoners of war, and the fleet may well have to take actions to ensure individual star systems abide by this agreement to return and account for all prisoners.”
He finally understood the expressions. “Then the treaty means nothing.”
Sakai shook his head. “No, Admiral, it’s not that bad. We no longer need fear attack from forces operating under the control of the Syndicate Worlds.”
“But the successor powers to the Syndicate Worlds are another matter,” Costa spat. “The Syndics here don’t have a good handle on what’s happening everywhere else in Syndic space, former Syndic space, that is, but they do know individual star systems and blocks of star systems are breaking away. They’re going to try to maintain the Syndicate Worlds, but the odds of that being anything like the old Syndicate Worlds in terms of size and strength are pretty low.”
“None of the successor powers have enough strength to constitute a threat to the Alliance,” Sakai said.
“Not yet,” Costa replied. “But there are wealthy former Syndic star systems with extensive shipbuilding facilities, the means, in time, to create their own fleets for defense or for conquest.”
Geary rubbed his forehead with his palms, thinking it through. “The big war is over, but we have smaller security threats all through Syndic space.”
“Which we can’t let boil over into bigger threats that might affect the Alliance over time.” Costa scowled at the table. “Which isn’t to say that a bigger threat isn’t still out there.” Costa rapped hard on the controls before her. “A Syndic courier ship arrived in this star system not long ago. Its transmission was relayed to us by the new leaders of the Syndicate Worlds, along with a request for assistance. One minute they’re trying to kill us, the next they’re pleading for help.”
An image of a Syndic CEO appeared over the table. Contrary to the outward calm and arrogance that Geary was used to seeing, this CEO appeared to be openly despairing. “We have issued numerous requests for defensive support that have gone unanswered. Now we are in urgent need of assistance. We have received an ultimatum from the enigma race, demanding that humanity totally evacuate this star system.”
“Enigma race?” Geary asked. “That’s what the Syndics call the aliens?”
Boyens nodded. “It didn’t seem to be an important piece of information. If it’s any consolation, only three of the new Executive Council members had any knowledge of the aliens before this. The others had never been cleared for the information. That’s CEO Gwen Iceni of Midway Star System on the screen, by the way. A decent, good person despite the CEO rank, if you’ll accept my judgment of her.”
CEO Iceni was still speaking. “The ultimatum doesn’t allow any room for negotiation or compromise, and all attempts to contact the enigma race have gone unanswered except for reiteration of the demands. Aside from the fixed defenses within this star system, we have only a few minor mobile combat forces available. The flotilla once maintained in this region is gone, I’ve been told. Everything else was also stripped from this border and sent to fight the Alliance. Now we have no effective means of defending ourselves, but it’s impossible for us to get even half the humans here out of this star system before the enigma race’s deadline. We require help, everything you can send. Otherwise, most of the population will still be here and nearly defenseless when the ultimatum expires and the enigma race arrives to seize possession of this star system. We will fight, but we can’t hope to win unless we get help.”
The image vanished, replaced by a plain text document laying out the alien demands along with a deadline, which Geary saw was just over three weeks away.
Rione spoke into the quiet that followed the end of the transmission. “Another thing we feared has come to pass. The aliens are seeking to expand into Syndic space, taking advantage of Syndic weakness.”
“Seeking to expand into human space,” Sakai corrected. “Part of humanity is weakened, but every gain these aliens achieve will come at the expense of all humanity’s power to confront them later.”
“It’s a long way from that border to the Alliance,” Costa grumbled.
“That depends how you measure it,” Rione said. “In light-years? Yes. In jumps? Still a long distance. But by hypernet? Four weeks’ travel time.”
“Close enough,” Sakai agreed.
Costa frowned some more. “The grand council can consider the situation and decide what to do.”
“We don’t have time for that,” Sakai insisted. “The ultimatum will have expired before we could return from a journey back to Alliance space.”
“That’s too bad for the Syndics. The grand council—”
“Has already granted Admiral Geary the authority to make decisions regarding confronting the aliens,” Rione broke in. “We here can offer him advice, but he has the authority, granted by the full council, to decide on his course of action.”