Malin hesitated, frowning in thought.
“What are they going to expect us to do?” Bradamont said. “That’s one thing Admiral Geary always tried to work out. What does the enemy expect to happen?”
“Because then you can do something the enemy doesn’t expect?” Iceni said, smiling slightly.
“More than that,” Bradamont said. “It also tells you what kind of defenses the enemy will have, what kind of plans. If they are anything like humans in terms of thinking, they are going to configure their plans around what they expect us to do, and their defenses will be focused on countering our expected weapons and tactics.”
Colonel Gozen spoke up for the first time. “Like those long-range weapons that hit the soldiers at Iwa, targeting them using their battle armor net. I’ve been told the enigmas had been secretly watching us fight the Alliance during the whole war? So they know our standard tactics, and they’ve seen our ground force weapons in use.”
“Alliance tactics, too,” Bradamont said. “But Admiral Geary still figured out ways to outthink the enigmas and frustrate their plans.”
“Admiral Geary isn’t here,” Iceni pointed out. “It would be wonderful if Black Jack showed up with his fleet, ready to lead the charge against the enigmas, but all indications on that front are that he is tied up at home.”
“Captain Desjani told me that the Admiral always insisted he was not special, that it was just a matter of learning from mistakes, anticipating enemy moves, and trying new things.”
“Captain Desjani?” Gozen asked.
“The captain of the Admiral’s flagship,” Bradamont explained. “She said Admiral Geary was always listening to others’ ideas, and always asking advice. I’ve been able to watch you in action. Kommodor Marphissa, and Kapitans Mercia and Kontos, Colonel Rogero, and you, General Drakon. You’ve repeatedly succeeded because you’ve outthought the Syndicate Worlds forces and done things they did not expect.”
“Luck played a role, too,” Drakon pointed out. He had felt an unexpected burst of pleasure at hearing Bradamont implying that he and his officers were the equal of Black Jack, but he wasn’t about to let the unanticipated praise go to his head. “How do we know what the enigmas will expect?”
“You said it yourself!” Bradamont pointed to Gozen. “Or, rather, your new colonel did. The enigmas will expect any ground attack from you to match what they have seen Syndicate Worlds ground forces do during the war.”
“A head-on attack with everything we’ve got, heedless of casualties,” Drakon said. “Preattack bombardment, by orbiting warships and any artillery we have landed on the planet, followed by combat engineers breaching outer defenses, then systematic overrunning of the entire complex.”
Malin nodded. “A mix of energy and projectile weapons in the hands of the soldiers, employed along with smoke to screen our attacks, and localized electromagnetic pulses to neutralize enemy systems within limited areas.”
“Stealth armor and special forces,” Gozen added.
“We used those last two in enigma space,” Bradamont said. “To rescue the human prisoners inside that asteroid.”
“Then the enigmas will be doubly on guard against that threat,” Drakon said, leaning back to think. “I bet we can come up with something those guys don’t expect. But how do we neutralize the dead-ma—I mean, the dead-enigma switches that are certain to be in place?”
“Offensive software and hackers are out,” Malin said. “The enigmas know how our systems work because of all of the human ships and ground facilities they have captured over time, but we know nothing about theirs. They probably have defenses against the most sophisticated weapons we could put together, including jammers focused on every aspect of our weapons, communications, and sensors.”
“Too bad we can’t just hit them with rocks,” Gozen said. “Not big ones dropped from orbit. Just one-on-one, look them in the eye, then whap them in the head and anywhere else that hurts. You can’t jam a rock.”
Iceni raised one hand to stop the conversation. “What did you say, Colonel Gozen?”
Gozen looked startled. “You can’t jam a rock, Madam President.”
“You said more than that.”
“Um, yes. Too bad we can’t look them in the eyes and hit them close-up.”
Drakon suddenly understood what Iceni was driving at. “You’re thinking we should fry the whole installation? Knock out every piece of equipment, every circuit, everything that isn’t a manual brute-force-operated widget? Is that possible?” he asked Malin.
Malin shook his head. “The enigmas know we use EMPs tactically. And they are a spacefaring race who has had to deal with radiation in that environment. They will have their equipment well shielded, and their critical equipment very well shielded.”
Bradamont laughed. “Oh. Yeah. And I know what they’ll use.” Everyone looked at her. “Water,” Bradamont explained. “The best natural radiation shield that exists, and still one of the best radiation shields period. The enigmas are semiaquatic from what we saw of their worlds. They would need a lot of water in that underground facility.”
“Where would they get all that water on a rock like that planet?” Gozen wondered.
Iceni checked her data. “The same place the Syndicate colony used to get it. Underground reservoirs. Oh, hell. What do you bet they partially drained one of the big, deep reservoirs to flood their excavations, and fixed up the partially drained void to take advantage of it?”
“They are apparently digging deep enough that could work,” Malin said.
“How do we fry something on the bottom of a swimming pool that is beneath a hell of a lot of rock?” Gozen demanded. “And even the best stealth battle armor can’t hide something moving through water.”
The ensuing silence stretched for more than a minute before Iceni rubbed her eyes with one hand. “All right. What about the other big problem?”
Drakon chose his words carefully. “Imallye seems to have a grudge against you.”
“You think?” Iceni glared toward a vacant corner again. “I didn’t know the name Granaile Imallye. I had no idea she was the same person in my own past as the one who called herself Grace O’Malley after an ancient hero of hers. But it seems she is.”
“She hates you,” Bradamont said.
“Yes.” Iceni inhaled deeply before saying anything else. “I must share one of the things in my past that I regret the most. You all know that I was exiled to Midway because of my involvement with reporting an illegal scheme by another CEO. What you don’t know is that I actually fingered the wrong person when I reported it.”
“Why did the Syndicate exile you for that?” Drakon asked, realizing he was probably the only person in the room who would dare to ask for more information.
She lowered her head, avoiding his gaze. “The Syndicate didn’t care that I had accused the wrong person. That’s because the CEO actually behind the scheme had planted extensive evidence implicating a sub-CEO. I admit that I thought I was safe reporting on malfeasance by a sub-CEO, but I also believed that he was guilty of a plot that was diverting important money and resources away from the tasks the Syndicate had ordered me to undertake.
“But that sub-CEO had been set up to take a fall by a very powerful CEO, who also set me up to take a fall. Like a fool, I reported the sub-CEO, who was conveniently executed before he could provide any information about the powerful CEO. Then evidence of the sub-CEO’s innocence miraculously appeared, and the powerful CEO used it to brand me as a loose cannon who might cause problems for other CEOs in the future. The powerful CEO went on making lots of money in various legal and illegal schemes, I got exiled to Midway, the sub-CEO was dead, and…” Iceni paused, raised her head, and finally looked at Drakon. “The sub-CEO’s daughter swore that she would make me pay for the death of her father.”