The Lost Fleet: Beyond the Frontier: Dreadnaught (24 page)

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Authors: Jack Campbell

BOOK: The Lost Fleet: Beyond the Frontier: Dreadnaught
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Desjani gave him a questioning look, and he recognized that she had fallen silent when she realized he was lost in thought. She did that automatically these days, giving him time to work out things inside, and he rarely noticed it. “I assume you’re talking about something more important than my opinion of a politician,” Desjani said.
“Thanks for giving me time to think. You always do that, and it helps a lot. No. I’m talking about a politician’s opinion of me.” Geary pointed at his display, where the primary inhabited world glowed. “That Syndic CEO. He knows he’s dealing with
me
. Not any other fleet officer. Me.”
Her eyes lit with understanding. “The man who doesn’t bombard planets indiscriminately. Who follows the old concepts of honor. We know that word of your policies got around Syndic space pretty quickly.”
“Yes. Mostly to our benefit during the war. But now this CEO thinks he can play games with us because I’ll be restrained and civilized.” Geary turned a grim look on her. “I wonder if his attitude would change if he had to deal with another Alliance fleet officer?”
“One who’s a bit less civilized?” she asked.
“Tanya, I don’t mean—”
“I know exactly what you mean, and it’s all right, because I think you nailed what’s going on here.” Desjani frowned at him. “I can be very intimidating, but—”
“I think the next message to that CEO needs to go out from the officer who has been delegated to deal with the POW issue, and you—”
“
But
are you sure it should be me?” she asked, her voice sharpening. “I can’t always be your first choice for assignments.”
“Good point.” Even though Tanya was very well qualified for the job, they couldn’t afford to have others think that she was receiving special treatment. He paused to think. “Tulev.”
“Excellent,” Desjani approved. “If the Syndic files on Alliance personnel are any good at all, they’ll have Tulev listed as a survivor of Elyzia. That Syndic CEO will know he’s dealing with a man whose home world was bombarded into an uninhabitable ruin by the Syndics.”
“I’ll call Tulev. You set up the light show. Between his message and your rocks, I think that CEO will rethink his attitude.”
 
 
THE
Alliance fleet was only thirty light minutes from the second planet when the light show began.
“What do you think?” Desjani asked a bit smugly.
“I don’t know what effect it’s having on the Syndics, but it’s certainly impressing me,” Geary replied. On a part of his display that had been set to show only visual light, the globe of the second planet hung like a marble mottled with white and blue on about a third of the face showing, the rest nightside dark spangled with lights from Syndic cities and towns. But those lights had been eclipsed by fiery streaks of brilliance slashing through the dark and on into the dayside, still so bright that they shone clearly against even the sunlit part of the planet.
Tulev’s message would have reached that planet about half an hour before the aimed-to-miss barrage of kinetic projectiles. Tulev, his customary impassiveness even more evident, so that he seemed as emotionless as stone, had spoken in flat tones that somehow carried more menace than any anger or threatening voice would have. “Your leader is playing with your lives in an attempt to extort money from this fleet. I have been assigned the task of ensuring that all Alliance prisoners in this star system are liberated and taken aboard this fleet. I will carry out my orders by any means necessary and will not tolerate any delays or attempts to impose barriers. You have three hours to inform us of your readiness to peacefully transfer all Alliance prisoners to our custody without any preconditions or hindrances. If this deadline is not met, I will take necessary action. To the honor of our ancestors. Captain Tulev, out.”
The fleet was already a lot closer to the planet, so the answer only took an hour. Geary was still on the bridge of
Dauntless
when both emissaries called.
“He’s still holding out.”
Geary took a moment before replying to Rione, making sure he had heard right. “The Syndic CEO for this star system is still trying to extort ransom from us?” For some reason, he felt a need to spell it out, so there would be no possible misinterpretation.
“Yes. He’s actually quite defiant about it.” Next to Rione’s image, another window opened.
In the recording of the transmission, the Syndic CEO now displayed an expression Geary had begun thinking of as Intimidating Frown since he had seen exactly the same look on numerous CEOs. “We expected better of Admiral Geary than transparent attempts to strike fear in the innocent populace of our world. These are not the negotiating tactics of civilized people, and surely the living stars look upon these actions with disfavor.”
The CEO’s expression changed a bit, settling into what Geary thought of as Angry Frown. “We are not afraid of asserting our rights under the treaty by which the long and terrible war was finally brought to an end by the efforts of all our peoples. If necessary, we are prepared to defend ourselves by all available means. It is my responsibility to prevent any attacks or hostile landings upon our peaceful world.”
Desjani made a gagging sound.
Now the CEO adopted the Sad But Reasonable expression. “It would be unfortunate for anyone to be harmed because of a refusal to discuss realistic compensation. Money is not more important than lives. I await word of your willingness to turn aside from force and embrace negotiation to find a mutually agreeable solution to our disagreements.”
As the CEO’s image blanked, Geary stared at where it had been, not trusting himself to speak for a moment.
“Okay,” Desjani said in a calm voice, “now I only need one rock. And the coordinates of that scum’s location.”
“He’s not showing any signs of bending.” General Charban stated the obvious. “We need more leverage. Something to convince him that we do mean business. Another, bigger, demonstration perhaps.”
Desjani, unseen by Charban, rolled her eyes, but her voice was loud enough for the emissaries to easily hear. “They’re
still
gaming us because those Syndics think the humanitarian and honorable Black Jack won’t blow them to hell. They’ll keep stalling, keep demanding, because no matter what we do they’ll convince themselves that it’s a bluff.”
Geary nodded, finally able to speak coolly. “I think you’re absolutely right. And if the CEO here thinks that, then there must be CEOs all over Syndic space who believe the same thing, that my desire to avoid civilian casualties and indiscriminate bombardments means I’m soft.”
“And,” Desjani continued, “that means if this one gets away with it, we’ll face similar ransom demands in every star system that holds Alliance prisoners.”
He took another glance at the emissaries. Charban was scowling and shaking his head, but Rione simply sat looking back at Geary, not giving any sign of agreement or disapproval. “We only have five hours left before we reach orbit about that planet,” Geary said. “We have already made our position clear, a position fully in keeping with the peace treaty. In my opinion, we now have no alternative except to show these Syndics, and everyone else who will hear about this, what happens in response to such tactics. They need to know that my being an honorable man does not mean that I am an easy mark or that extortion is a viable tactic against the Alliance.”
“What do you intend?” Rione asked. “We are at peace with these people.”
“A peace that obligates them to do certain things they refuse to do. That CEO stated that military force will be used to prevent us from pulling out our people.”
“Yes, he did,” Rione agreed, causing Charban’s scowl to shift from Geary to her.
“Therefore, I intend to go in there with the amount of force necessary to conduct a safe extraction of our Alliance personnel. That means knocking down any defenses that might imperil the landing force or the ships in orbit, isolating the camp from ground force reinforcements, and dealing with any attempts to attack or otherwise interfere with our operation.”
To one side, Desjani mouthed a silent and gleeful,
Yes!
Charban, though, shook his head. “It’s too early to embark on such a drastic course of action. The legal ramifications—”
Thoroughly fed up at the moment with politicians of all types, Geary interrupted. “That may be your opinion, General, but I am in command of this fleet, and you are not.”
The general reddened slightly, looking to Rione. “We cannot approve of this action.”
Rione, though, stayed silent again and gave Charban no more sign of support or agreement than she had Geary.
Geary moved his hand toward the control that would end the conversation. “Unless either of you has the authority to relieve me of command,” he told the emissaries, “I intend taking this action whether you approve or not. Thank you for your input.” He tapped the control, and the images of both emissaries disappeared.
Desjani, her eyes shining, actually grabbed his arm and turned him to face her. She leaned in close to speak in barely a murmur despite the privacy fields, which should have kept anyone nearby from overhearing normal conversation. “The perfect decision
and
perfect treatment of those politicians. By the living stars, I love you, Admiral.”
“That’s not a very professional thing to say, Tanya,” he reminded her in the same low tones.
“To hell with that. Let’s kick some Syndic butt, darling.”
 
 
THE
hastily convened fleet conference had no doubt raised some eyebrows, but as Geary laid out his decision, any signs of concern faded into smiles of approval. No one in the fleet would object to hammering Syndics, peace treaty or no. Which was why Geary took pains to pound home his restrictions. “We have to limit our actions to those justified by the treaty. The Syndics in this star system are in violation of that treaty and have threatened military action to prevent us from exercising our rights under that treaty, giving us the authority to free our personnel by whatever force is necessary. We will
not
exceed the requirements of necessary force. General Carabali.”
She nodded to Geary, all professional composure.
“The fleet’s targeting systems will draw up a list of bombardment targets in order to establish a safe transit corridor for your landing force. I want you and your shuttle commanders to review that list and ensure that it provides the required margin of safety.”
Another nod. “What will be the rules of engagement for my Marines?” Carabali asked.
“Your landing will be preceded by broadcasts telling the Syndics that no one who avoids engaging our forces will be targeted, but that anyone or anything who fires on or locks targeting on or points weapons toward or advances toward our forces will be neutralized using all necessary means.”
Carabali actually smiled thinly. “That should provide adequate guidance for my Marines.”
General Charban spoke up, his attitude now that of a comrade among his peers. “It is critically important that our Marines follow those rules of engagement and exercise a high degree of restraint in their actions.”
“That is understood,” Carabali replied politely.
“And in any event,” Duellos commented, “Marines are renowned for their restraint.”
A low wave of laughter rolled around the table. Carabali nodded to Duellos, her smile still in place, but Charban’s own belated smile seemed a bit strained.
“We are going to tear up a decent-size area going in,” Tulev commented. “That is not only required for the safety of our forces but should also serve as an object lesson to CEOs in other Syndic star systems that they cannot demand ransom for our personnel without paying a large price.”
“Exactly,” Geary said. “An important secondary objective of this operation is to drive home to anyone holding Alliance prisoners of war that those prisoners cannot be employed as bargaining chips. If someone does try that, they’re going to end up losing a lot more than they can hope to gain. We don’t want to face this nonsense in any other star systems. Now, there’s no threat from warships, so all we have to worry about are defenses on the planetary surface and in fixed orbits. Don’t underestimate the threat from those weapons. A particle beam powered by planetary-based sources can be powerful enough to blow right through the shields and armor on even a battleship. All ships are to conduct random evasive movements within their assigned positions. Any questions?”
“We can’t take out the warships under construction in this star system?” Commander Neeson asked.
“No. They pose no possible threat to us or to the operation. Destroying them would unquestionably fall outside the bounds of what we’re allowed to do to enforce our rights under the peace treaty.” Geary looked around the table. “We’re doing this right. Not because of what the Syndics might say about our actions but because this fleet does things right. Let it be clearly understood that there will be
no
‘accidental’ firing of any weapons at anything other than approved targets. No ‘unexplained events’ in fire-control systems, and no ‘glitches’ in launch mechanisms.”
Some of his officers tried to look innocent, some feigned shock at the suggestion, and a few openly grinned. But he thought they would all abide by his clear instructions. “Are there any more questions? We don’t have much time to get this operation under way, so if you see any roadblocks, let me know as soon as possible so we can keep things moving.”

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