The Lost Fleet: Beyond the Frontier: Guardian

“But they are Syndics,” the doctor said. “Their families live here or nearby. And Midway is no longer ruled by the Syndics, so even those who once seemed hesitant are now eager to return to their native stars. I have talked to all eighteen within the last hour, and I am convinced all sincerely wish to leave us here.”

“Then we will respect their wishes,” Geary said. That would only leave three hundred fifteen more former enigma prisoners to deal with somehow. “I wish we had been able to find out why the enigmas had kept the number of prisoners at exactly three hundred thirty-three,” he commented to Tanya Desjani.

She snorted. “Add that to the list. We found out damned little about the enigmas except that they’re insanely protective of any information about them. We’re breaking up the enigmas’ little number game, though. It would probably drive them crazy if they knew,” Tanya added in a way that made it clear the prospect of inflicting mental anguish on enigmas didn’t bother her at all. “Are you sure the people here will treat well the former prisoners we’re dropping off and won’t treat them all like lab rats?”

“No.”

The single word might have inspired another comment from Desjani, but the way he said it made her glance at him and remain silent. She had come to know him pretty well, too.

The video feed from the assault transport Haboob provided crystal-clear images of what must be the entire group of former prisoners clustered together in the transport’s starboard loading area. Having spent so long confined in their small world and knowing only themselves, the people freed from the enigmas tended to bunch together at all times since their liberation. Now they formed a tight group in which the eighteen who were to leave the others could be marked by the small Alliance fleet duffel bags they carried, which held the tiny amount of personal possessions they had brought from their asteroid prison or acquired on the voyage back here.

The Marines standing guard around the edges of the loading area were relaxed, talking among themselves. The former prisoners of the enigmas had caused no trouble since arriving on Haboob, acting as if they feared the slightest misstep would result in their being sent back to their confinement. That anxiety had caused the fleet medical personnel no end of anguish as they tried to reassure their patients, but as far as the Marines responsible for good order and discipline aboard Haboob were concerned, it had made their job a lot easier.

Lights glowed above four main hatches into the loading area as the Midway shuttles finished docking and sealed their own accesses to the transport’s. The Alliance Marines stiffened into alert postures as the lights came on, fingering the weapons they held. The Midway shuttles had been built by the Syndicate Worlds and were piloted and crewed by men and women who had fought for the Syndicate Worlds. No one on Haboob was going to relax while those shuttles and those men and women were aboard.

The civilian specialists from Midway came out first. Someone had been smart enough not to lead with military personnel. A group led by Dr. Nasr went forward to meet them. Geary didn’t bother zooming in on the meeting or activating audio from Dr. Nasr’s feed. Even from a distance the routine nature of introductions and the sizing up of each other that occurred whenever two groups of experts met could be easily made out.

Geary studied the civilians from Midway, seeing no signs of the various standard Syndic garments that had been required wear in different levels of the Syndicate Worlds organizational hierarchies. “At least somebody had the sense not to send people wearing Syndic suits.”

After the last doctors and technicians boarded Haboob, they were followed by the four pilots from the shuttles. The pilots gathered in their own small group near the hatches as the civilians from Midway met with the Alliance medical personnel.

Desjani nodded. “And the pilots have uniforms different from Syndic ones. The outfits the officers on the warships are wearing look like modified Syndic gear, but those shuttle pilots have on entirely new outfits.” It was hard to tell from her voice whether she approved of that or thought it just one more Syndic trick.

The anxious former prisoners of the enigmas watched the people from Midway as if searching for anyone they knew. The Marines watched the specialists from Midway and the prisoners. A group of Alliance fleet officers and Marine officers came into the loading area as well, stopping almost immediately to look curiously at everyone else. Sightseers. Anytime anything out of the ordinary took place, anyone without other duties would come to have a look around.

“Admiral?” Dr. Nasr spoke with unusual abruptness. “The officer in charge here wants to know if it is all right for these nonassigned people to be present.”

“The looky-loos?” Geary asked. “Why not?”