Geary, studying the depiction of a Syndic bridge, nodded. “It’s all old, isn’t it? I recognize some of the features of that fake bridge from Syndic warships a century ago. The aliens never updated their images.”
“You’re right,” Boyens agreed. “We’ve debated whether the fact they didn’t change the depiction meant they didn’t care whether it gave away their game, or if they somehow didn’t realize the old, unchanging bridge image was a giveaway.”
The “man” seated in the command chair on the bridge of the alien ship smiled in a perfect re-creation of a Syndic CEO’s insincerity. “I wonder if they realize that’s an obviously fake smile?” Rione asked in a quiet voice.
“Damned if I know,” Boyens replied. “They seem to be better at mimicking false human emotions than they are at mimicking real ones.”
“Warships of the Alliance,” the human avatar began speaking, his expression now altering slightly in ways not quite matching the tone of his words. The effect was very subtle, just as Boyens had said, but it was definitely there. “Your fleet does not have this star, does not belong to it. Dealings are to be with those who occupied this star but do not have it. Leave this star, and you will have peace. Destruction will be inflicted on any who remain here. By long-ago agreement, this star is ours to have.”
Geary glanced at Boyens’s image, who shook his head. “Not any agreement the Syndicate Worlds made with them.”
“They could be meaning that it’s theirs by divine mandate or something,” Rione said. “Or that they laid some claim to this area themselves a long time ago, long before they could actually extend control over it.” She looked at the other two senators. “A claim they don’t want to fight matched by threats of what will happen if we don’t do as they say.”
Costa looked angry. “They want the sort of peace that comes when we comply with all of their demands.”
“I agree,” Sakai said. “Though that may be merely a display of aggression to open the discussion.”
“Maybe. Do you think they’re confused by our presence here?” Geary asked.
The three senators considered that, then Rione nodded.
“It may not be confusion, but they seem to be wanting to deal only with the Syndics.”
“Because of the worms in Syndic ship systems, the aliens must have gotten used to being able to track human ships. Maybe they were really surprised to see us here and are trying to bluff us into leaving. It doesn’t hurt us to keep talking and see if they back down when we don’t back down.” Geary thought for a moment, then tapped his controls. “This is Admiral John Geary of the Alliance fleet. The war between the Alliance and the Syndicate Worlds has ended. We have been asked to assist against any threat to this star system. There was never an agreement to turn this star system over to you. We do not recognize the legitimacy of your ultimatum. We do not seek a fight with you, but we will repel attacks against this star system and any other star system occupied by humanity or within the borders of those regions of space occupied by humanity. Pull back your forces, so we can discuss sending emissaries to negotiate with you and establish terms for peaceful coexistence between our peoples. To the honor of our ancestors. Geary out.”
“Fat chance they’ll withdraw,” Desjani muttered.
“Yeah, but I had to give it a shot.”
Since the alien armada kept on course toward the Alliance fleet at a steady velocity of point one light speed, the answer took less than four hours. This time, though, the first part of the reply took the form of what seemed to be a demonstration of capabilities.
The alien formations abruptly swung upward, then to the side, then back onto their original vectors, every ship moving in perfect synchronization. The speed of the maneuvers and the rapidity of the changes in direction were impressive and frightening. Geary blinked at his display. “Did they really just do that?”
“Yes,” Desjani replied, gazing at her own display, her jaw so tight that Geary could see the muscles standing out.
“Captain,” the engineering watch-stander reported in a hushed voice, “the alien spacecraft appear to have propulsion systems with significantly higher mass-to-thrust ratios than our own. They must also have inertial dampers capable of performance an order of magnitude better than ours.”
The other watch-standers on the bridge were watching their own displays, sudden unease obvious in their postures and expressions.
Desjani relaxed herself with an effort of will that Geary found as remarkable as the alien maneuvering capability, then turned casually to look at the weapons watch-stander. “Can we hit them?”
“Captain?” The watch-stander took a moment to absorb the question, then ran a hasty check of his systems. “Yes, ma’am. Our fire-control systems can handle targets maneuvering the way the aliens just did.”
“How about the specters?” Desjani asked, still relaxed.
“Yes, ma’am. If we fire them within the right envelopes.” As the watch-stander answered her, he was visibly calming, too, as were all of the other personnel on the bridge.
“They can’t outrun specters or hell lances,” Desjani observed.
“No, ma’am,” the combat watch-stander agreed, grinning by then.
“They can dance all they want, then,” she concluded, then surreptitiously winked at Geary as the watch-standers smiled and turned back determinedly to their displays.
He gave her an admiring look in response and leaned close to speak quietly. “You are one hell of an officer, Captain Desjani. Well done. Do you want to broadcast that observation to the fleet?”
Desjani smiled. “I don’t need to. The bridge watch is busy passing it on right now. Sometimes the informal comm channels work to our benefit.”
He settled back, willing himself to match Desjani’s nonchalance, knowing that every eye was on him. He wondered how well the aliens could evaluate such human emotions. Would they see calm and confidence, or arrogance and obliviousness, or nothing they could understand at all?
“Another transmission,” the comm watch reported. “The transmissions are assessed as coming from the leading subformation on the bottom of the alien formation.”
The aliens’ human avatars seemed stiffer this time, their expressions sterner. “Leave. Leave this star. You do not have this star, Admiral Geary. Dealings only are to be with those of the Syndicate Worlds. Your fleet is to leave. Destruction will be certain if you fight. Negotiations will be allowed when what we have has been left by Syndicate Worlds.”
“Admiral?” the communications watch announced. “We have another message from the Syndic CEO in charge of this star system.”
CEO Iceni appeared now, obviously trying to project calm. “Admiral Geary, the enigma race has informed us that they will not deal with you and demanded our immediate surrender of this star system. I have chosen not to reply to them. Given their numbers and their communications, it appears the enigma race is resolved to fight to gain control of this star system. I do not know under what terms you agreed to come assist in the defense of this star system, but by confronting the enigma race, you have satisfied your own honor. We will not ask you to fight a hopeless battle on our behalf. If you choose to withdraw now, none can fault you. We ask only that you do what you can during your withdrawal to keep the enigma ships focused on your fleet so that as many of our evacuation ships as possible can escape.”
Desjani broke the silence following the message. “She thinks we’d run?” Her outrage seemed to match that of the other fleet personnel on the bridge.
But Geary understood. “The aliens must have sent her a message at the same time they sent the first one to us. She has no reason to believe we want to die defending Syndic people in a Syndic star system, but she’s not faulting us for that.”