Dreadnaught

Was the Alliance working on such a system? How could they not be? Was that why he had been ordered to detach those hypernet-knowledgeable personnel? But Commander Neeson had been certain that the fleet’s personnel were not expert enough to make any difference to any Alliance efforts. Not with Captain Cresida dead.

But removing those personnel from the fleet would have gone a long way to ensuring that the fleet had no means of even realizing this particular threat might exist. As well as no means of constructing a device such as Iceni now offered.

Geary’s eyes went to his own star display, imagining a journey back to Alliance space from Midway the hard way, jumping star to star, a distance well more than twice that which the fleet had covered in its withdrawal from the Syndic home star system. Even without the constant threat of attack, it would be a long and arduous trek, cut off from home the entire time. Fuel, food . . . how could he acquire what he needed for such a long journey without taking it under threat of violence?

And what if the fleet had returned to Midway from alien space, low on supplies and possibly battered by combat, to find that instead of a fast journey home, it would require close to a year?

Had the government realized that risk existed and thought the need to learn more about the aliens justified dealing with it? But why hadn’t they told him about it? And why had fleet headquarters tried to yank the majority of his auxiliary support just before departure from Varandal, when that risk made having the maximum possible auxiliary support vital? Was that the reason the auxiliaries had been ordered away from him, and not the issue of supporting the new construction warships? Or was it a matter of both?

Why would the government and headquarters risk stranding the vast majority of its fleet as far from Alliance territory as existed within human space? Stranding the fleet and . . . stranding him.

A living hero can be a very inconvenient thing.

He became aware that Iceni was speaking once again. “I’m sure that you appreciate the value of what I am offering to you. All you need do in exchange for the design of this extremely important system is to remain silent when it is implied that this star system is under your protection against all aggression, and to refuse any request by the Syndicate Worlds’ central government for assistance if they seek to attack the peace-loving people of this star system.”

Her smile took on the completely insincere cast of a standard Syndic CEO expression. “You see that this is a humanitarian issue as well as a matter of self-interest. I am willing to accept your . . . word of . . . honor on this matter. Simply say that is what you will do, and the design will be transmitted to you.

“I await your agreement, Admiral Geary. For the people, Iceni, out.”

He covered his face with his hands, thoughts racing. The government wouldn’t be bound by any commitments of that nature that I made, but it seems Iceni believes, just like Badaya and his followers, that I’m actually running things in the Alliance now. Saying that I take my orders from the Alliance government is true, but she won’t believe that’s the real reason.

The Alliance government that may have tried to strand me and the fleet out here. What would the aliens do when we penetrated their space? That could have triggered the wholesale collapse of the Syndicate Worlds’ hypernet. Didn’t anybody think about that? Is this a case of deliberate malice or just lack of foresight? The fiasco with that courts-martial message was proof enough that there are people in authority who aren’t thinking through the implications of what they do, but when things keep happening, it forms a very disturbing pattern.

How much had Rione known?