Dreadnaught

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.