The Lost Fleet Beyond the Frontier Invincible

She replayed the end of the message, then nodded reluctantly. “All right. I see that. These people have revolted against the CEOs. Maybe they really are trying to be something other than Syndics. But the people at the top, Iceni and Drakon, are both former CEOs. Either they’ve changed their stripes, or this is all theater. I know where I’m placing my bets.”

Geary sat back, looking at his display, where hundreds of individual Alliance warships chased after thirty-four enigma warships, every ship on a different path but all of the vectors arcing down toward either the inner star system or the hypernet gate. None of the vectors displayed intercept points, reflecting the reality that his ships couldn’t catch those enigmas unless the enigmas altered their own courses or speeds. “Whoever these former Syndics are, they’d better fight smart. We can’t stop those enigmas. They’ll have to.”

Alerts came to life on his display, highlighting a dozen enigma ships.

“They launched bombardment projectiles,” Desjani said. “Aimed at the inhabited planet by the looks of the trajectories.” She clenched a fist and pounded her seat arm softly but firmly. “Neither we nor the Syndics can stop those.”

EIGHTEEN

DAUNTLESS was moving at close to point two light speed herself now, hurtling through space at almost sixty thousand kilometers per second, but even that was too slow to catch the enigma ships ahead of them. The bombardment the enigmas had launched was also unreachable.

They could only sit, knowing that they would spend the next couple of days watching the bombardment heading for its target and that they couldn’t possibly stop it.

“Admiral, we’re receiving a message from the inhabited planet.”

Geary nodded despairingly. “They don’t know what’s coming at them yet. Let’s see what ‘President’ Iceni has to say.”

The image that appeared showed Iceni and a hard-looking man sitting behind an impressive desk of polished wood. He didn’t look like an assistant but rather an equal.

Iceni no longer wore the dark blue suit that was standard wear for Syndicate Worlds’ CEOs. Instead, her outfit suggested power and wealth without flaunting either. The man beside her wore an unfamiliar uniform that seemed to have been modified from Syndic designs. He didn’t need that uniform to project an image of being military, though. Geary would have pegged him as such no matter what that man had worn.

“This is President Iceni of the independent star system of Midway.” Iceni paused.

The man in uniform spoke crisply. “This is General Drakon, commanding officer of Midway’s ground forces.”

“We are happy to welcome the Alliance fleet back in our star system,” Iceni continued. “Especially considering current circumstances and previous agreements between us. We will do our utmost to defend our star system against invaders, and ask only that you assist us in that task until the people of Midway are once again secure. Kommodor Marphissa, our senior warship commander, has been sent orders to follow your directions unless they conflict with her obligations to defend this star system.

“Be aware that the battleship located at our main military dockyards has functional propulsion but not working shields or weapons at this time, so it cannot be counted upon to assist in the defense of this star system.

“This is President Iceni, for the people, out.”

Rione had appeared at Geary’s elbow, bending a questioning expression his way. “Previous agreements?”

He nodded, trying not to look guilty. “Previous agreements,” Geary said, as if that were natural and normal.

“Are we talking about more than the peace treaty made with the Syndicate Worlds’ government? Additional agreements?”

“Why would you ask me that?”

Both Desjani and Rione were giving him hard looks now. He was abruptly aware that he was pinned between them. “Admiral, did you reach any other agreements with the authorities here at Midway?”

He nodded. “I agreed to help defend them against the enigmas, which was consistent with the peace treaty.”

“That’s all?” Rione pressed. “That kommodor also seemed to expect more from us than the peace treaty would necessarily require.”

“Yes,” Desjani said. “She did.”

That was about as bad as it got, having Rione and Desjani agreeing with each other that he must have done something wrong.

“Did you say anything,” Rione asked, “that this President Iceni could have twisted into a claim that Black Jack would defend them against their own government?”

“No. I did not promise that.” They were watching him. “I did agree, for good reasons, not to publicly declare that I would not defend them against threats like that.”

Desjani glowered at him. “I should never let you talk to women alone.”

But Rione appeared thoughtful. “A vague commitment without real promises? I’m impressed, Admiral. We might be able to use that.”

“Oh, wonderful!” Desjani said. “You’ve got her approval! Does that tell you just how wrong you are?”