Another six minutes. “You’re dead, then?” The CEO shook his head. “A stupid ploy and waste of time. You’re not listed. A search through the entire database, including every Alliance officer known to have served in this war doesn’t produce any matches at-” The Syndic CEO stopped speaking, his eyes still locked on whatever his display was showing.
Geary smiled again, this time baring his teeth. “I assume you found me. About a century ago.”
By the time Syndic CEO’s latest reply came in, his face had reddened with anger. “A simple, foolish trick. If you think I’d be stupid enough to believe that, you are sadly mistaken. You’re simply stalling for time. I will not tolerate further delays.”
“I don’t care what you believe.” Geary let the next words come out slowly, all too aware that the rest of his own fleet was listening in on this conversation. “I am Captain John Geary. I am now in command of the Alliance fleet. You’re dealing with me now. These are my ships. Back off.”
The CEO was glowering when his latest message arrived. “Even if you were that person, there’s nothing you can do. You’re outnumbered, outgunned, and cut off. You have no options but surrender! I repeat, I will tolerate no more delays. My patience is at an end.”
Geary tried his best to look unimpressed. “I beat the Syndics once, and I can beat them again.” He knew what he had to say. He was still speaking as much to his own ships as to the Syndic CEO. Maybe he’d give the Syndic pause, and hopefully he’d give his fleet some more confidence. Geary actually found himself enjoying this a little. Being Black Jack Geary to Alliance sailors had been a constant trial, but using his legend to rattle the Syndics was actually a bit of fun. “There’s always something a good commander can do. I repeat, this fleet isn’t beaten. If you’re foolish enough to try attacking, you’ll find we’re ready to kick you halfway to the next star system.” He knew that wasn’t true, but halfhearted bluffs weren’t going to gain him anything at this point.
Another six minutes. The Syndic CEO eyed Geary, wariness apparent now even though the CEO was still trying to project arrogant assurance. “That’s nonsense, as you’re well aware. Your situation is hopeless. Unless you surrender now, you will die. This conversation is at an end. I expect your next response to contain your surrender.”
Geary ignored the latest ultimatum. “Sorry to disappoint you. The Syndic fleet thought it’d already killed me once. What makes you think you’ll have more luck this time? You, on the other hand, haven’t died even once yet. And after watching what you did to Admiral Bloch, I’d be more than happy to send you to your ancestors.”
The Syndic CEO had been keeping his expression carefully controlled, but Geary thought he could read uncertainty there. Which was very good if true. Rattling an enemy commander’s confidence could go a long way to ensuring their defeat.
On the other hand, Captain Desjani and the other Dauntless crew members who Geary could see seemed to be torn between happiness at Geary’s taunting of the Syndic commander and concern that the taunting would provoke an immediate Syndic attack.
Geary waited, watching out of the corner of his eye as the ships of the Alliance fleet continued slowly repositioning. How much longer would he be able to stall before all of his ships would be ready to bolt for the jump point?
“I have neither time nor patience to deal with a fool,” the Syndic CEO finally spat out six more minutes later, then broke the connection.
Geary sighed and relaxed his stiff posture. “Captain Desjani, how much longer until all of our ships are in position?”
She checked her own displays. “Your, um, negotiations with the Syndic commander bought us about a half hour, but I estimate another half hour is still needed, sir. Titan is lagging, though. She took a lot of damage,” Desjani added quickly.
“Yeah.” Geary checked Titan’s status. Perhaps he should order the crew to evacuate…No. Titan was an auxiliary, a mobile fleet-repair-and-rebuild ship. Essentially a small shipyard accompanying the fleet to repair damage too serious for ships to fix on their own, and to manufacture replacement items from raw materials. There’d been two Titan class ships with the fleet, Geary saw. The other had been blown to fragments during the recent battle. There were other repair-and-rebuild ships still surviving, but none of them had Titan’s range of capabilities. I need Titan if I’m going to get this fleet home. But she was slow to start with, and now she’s got battle damage to her engines slowing her more. All I can do is pray I rattled that Syndic goon enough to keep his fleet passive for another half hour.