Geary saw the same information popping up on his display as the fleet’s sensors peered across light-hours of space to spot the tiniest visible detail on the newly arrived heavy cruiser. He felt keyed up despite knowing that he was viewing history. The heavy cruiser had arrived almost two hours ago, the light from that event just now reaching
“That means a lot of passengers,” Desjani murmured. “An assault force aimed at the facilities here?”
That was a real possibility. Midway had revolted months ago, casting off the heavy hand of the Syndicate Worlds and declaring independence. The Syndicate Worlds was crumbling in the wake of its defeat in the war with the Alliance, but even with star systems falling away in many other places, Midway was too valuable for the Syndic government to accept its loss. Geary had been wondering what the Syndics would try next to regain control.
But, before he could answer, Desjani’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “He’s running.”
Sure enough, the heavy cruiser had seen the small Syndic flotilla still hovering near the hypernet gate and, instead of altering course slightly to join up with them, had twisted about and accelerated away.
“They’re not here on orders from the Syndics. It’s another breakaway,” Geary said. One more element of the armed forces of the Syndicate Worlds that was responding to the erratic fragmenting of the Syndic empire by taking off on its own, probably for the home star system of the crew. “Or does he belong to the authorities here at Midway?”
“Not if they told us the truth about how many warships they have.” Desjani paused, grinned, then laughed with a mocking edge. “Did you hear what I said? I wondered if a bunch of Syndics had told us the truth.”
The rest of the bridge watch team laughed along with her at the absurdity of the statement.
“Midway revolted against the Syndicate Worlds,” Geary pointed out though he had to admit that Desjani’s ridicule was justified. He had encountered a few Syndics who had dealt straight with him, but most of the Syndics he had met (especially Syndics at the CEO level) seemed to regard the truth as something to deal with only after all other possible alternatives had been tried and failed.
“So they painted over the stripe on their tails,” Desjani replied. “Does that mean they aren’t still skunks?”
He didn’t answer, knowing that argument would resonate deeply among everyone in his fleet after a century spent fighting the Syndics in a war that had seen behavior on both sides spiral downward through the decades. But the Syndicate Worlds had always led the way down, their leaders hesitating at nothing to pursue a war they could not win but refused to lose until Geary himself had smashed their fleet.
The commander of the Syndicate flotilla, their old acquaintance CEO Boyens, had reacted to the heavy cruiser’s arrival almost as soon as the flotilla had sighted it. The single battleship forming the core of the flotilla had not altered its orbit, but the majority of the escorts had rolled down and over and were accelerating on curving vectors, aimed at intercepting the new arrival.
Desjani shook her head. “He’s sending all six of his heavy cruisers and all nine of his Hunter-Killers? Overkill.”
“We know Boyens is usually cautious,” Geary said. “He’s not taking any chances, and he has to worry about the locals intervening.”
“The locals can’t get to that new heavy cruiser before Boyens’s ships do,” she pointed out. “If the cruiser wasn’t burdened with that extra mass, he might get clear. But as it is, he’s toast.”
Geary stared at his display. The combat systems aboard
“More Syndics,” Desjani replied in an uncaring tone.
“More people fleeing the Syndics,” Geary said. “Maybe families of the crew of that heavy cruiser.”