“Good point.” There was no telling how many crew members from the Alliance warships once destroyed here might have been kept around as living war trophies. “How badly did Senator Costa threaten that slime on that issue?”
“I am not myself easily intimidated, but her words and their delivery would have made me reconsider my own actions,” Rione responded dryly.
“Thanks.” Suppressing renewed thoughts about the possible fate of his grandnephew Michael Geary, Geary ordered the combat systems to screen out targets that might be barracks or living areas for workers or were too close to such places. Despite Desjani’s unhappiness, that still left a small but decent batch of targets. Geary paused, then added a few spots scattered through the wide, smooth sailing areas. “Let’s also mess up their recreation a little.”
“There’s actually some liquid water in the deeper parts of the oceans, under kilometers of ice,” Desjani said. “Why don’t we punch down that deep somewhere? Just for fun?”
A hole that deep in their sailing area would seriously annoy the Syndic leaders and be a very long-lived monument to the capability of the Alliance to strike here. “Sure. Why not?” The hours spent discreetly heading for the lee of the star had been tense, wondering if the Syndic politicians might decide to trigger the hypernet gate before their own flotilla was clear just to ensure that the Alliance fleet was destroyed as well. Slamming a hole a few kilometers deep in a frozen ocean might help relieve a little of that tension. The combat systems worked up a solution for that quickly enough, using a series of kinetic rounds dropped onto the exact same spot one after the other. “Give me a double check on this firing plan, please. I want to be sure we don’t hit any spot likely to have POW forced laborers present.”
Desjani checked it over, then had one of her watch-standers do a check as well. “It looks as good as we can get, sir. We’re not that far from the planet, but they’ll still see the kinetic rounds inbound in time to evacuate targets.”
He approved the bombardment, and once again a wave of kinetic rounds burst from the ships of the Alliance fleet.
Geary pulled out the scale on his display for a moment, seeing where some of the projectiles from the first bombardment launched over two days ago were still heading for their targets in more distant parts of the star system. “All right, so much for the Syndic winter wonderland. Let’s pretend we’re heading to deal the same treatment to the main inhabited world.”
Desjani’s mood seemed to have been improved by firing the latest bombardment. “They’re trying to get us to chase them, and we’re trying to get them to chase us, but we’re both actually doing something else.”
“I asked … someone else about that, and her opinion was that CEO Shalin doesn’t know the plans of the Syndic leaders.”
His weak attempt to avoid mentioning Rione by name failed to deceive Desjani. She made another face. “It takes a politician to understand a politician,” she muttered.
Costa had come onto the bridge, her expression impassive, and had caught Geary’s statement but apparently not Desjani’s. “I agree with your informant, Admiral. I doubt if CEO Shalin has been told. He’s being punished,” she stated bluntly. “I’ve spent some time reviewing his transmission to us, getting past my own anger at his words and attitude to evaluate what he’s trying to hide about himself. Take a close look at the way he comes across. Despite the awards and the surface arrogance, it’s clear that he hasn’t been living a comfortable life lately, mentally or physically. He let you get away the last time the fleet was here. He knows he’s expendable.”
Rione raised an eyebrow at Costa. “Do you think we can cut a deal with him?”
Desjani spun in her seat, her expression controlled but her tension easy enough for Geary to read. He felt the same way. Reach an agreement with that CEO? It wasn’t just the Alliance fleet’s losses in that long-ago ambush, but rather the murder of the officers who had gone to negotiate with him. But Rione had already told him that she couldn’t see any basis for trusting Shalin, so why had she raised the possibility with Costa?
“A deal?” Costa grimaced. “I doubt it. Even if we could trust him. If I read him right, he’s the sort who when in disfavor will go to any lengths to regain favor. He’d double-cross us in a heartbeat.”
“I agree with your assessment,” Rione said.
Geary saw the other senator’s flash of pleasure at that, then realized that Rione had only asked the question so that she could publicly state agreement with Costa and thereby earn some measure of gratitude from Costa. I’ll never be a politician. I just can’t play those games. But the conversation brought up another question. “Why does he have new awards if he’s being punished? Why did the Syndics give him more medals if they’re mad at him for us getting away?”
“Consistency.” Costa waved in the general direction of Alliance space. “While the fleet was still missing, the Syndics were broadcasting propaganda that it had been completely destroyed here. If they hadn’t presented awards to the CEO in charge of their forces in that battle, it would have looked odd and called into question the claimed victory. Believe me, we were grasping at straws and would have keyed on that.”
“If that’s the reason he got those medals, it’s hard to believe that he’s actually wearing them.” Geary turned back to Desjani, who had relaxed as it became apparent that no one was going to suggest dealing with the flotilla’s CEO. “Two more hours. Then it will be too late for the Syndics to blow the gate in time to hit us.”
“It should be an interesting experience in time dilation,” Desjani replied. Her eyes went to her display again, and he knew what she was looking at, the same thing that kept drawing his gaze on his own display. The Syndic hypernet gate hung like a huge eye, watching them, playing with them, ready to unleash awesome forces like some cyclopean god out of a primitive myth. “Those hours will probably seem to take days to go by,” Desjani continued. “When are you cutting loose the strike force?”
“When we make our move for the lee of the star.” He had been putting off giving Duellos detailed orders, but that had to be done.
She nodded, and he realized that Desjani had once again subtly prodded him to get going on something he was avoiding. “The rest of the fleet can bombard more targets in fixed orbit once we’re behind the star,” Desjani observed, “but if the Syndic leaders decide to run, the strike force won’t have a chance of catching them. Even a battleship can keep out of reach of battle cruisers if it has that big a lead on them.”
“I know. That’s one of the primary issues I’m trying to resolve in my orders to Duellos. I wish we had another way to get at the Syndic leadership. I’d hoped to trap them on the second planet, but with them sitting on that battleship at the jump point, I have no personal danger leverage against them at all.” Rione had spoken before about how those most senior Syndic leaders were focused on their own self-interests, so as long as he couldn’t threaten them directly, his ability to force a decision was limited. His eyes went to the portion of his display showing the Syndic battleship, which held the members of the Syndic Executive Council. Much too distant to possibly catch unless those ships cooperated. If only there were some levers that would influence the ships they were on …
“Admiral, I—” Desjani began.
“Wait.” Geary tried to block out all distractions, seeking the idea that hovered just out reach. The battleship and the heavy cruisers. Something about them. And something about the Syndics, and the captured Syndic CEO aboard Dauntless, something Boyens had said … “Senator Costa, there are defensive forces assigned to Unity Star System, aren’t there?”