“That sounds more humane than beating them up,” Geary noted with another smile.
“Beating them up?” The lieutenant seemed startled by the suggestion. “Why would we do that, sir? It produces unreliable information.”
“Does it?”
“Yes, sir. Not as bad as outright torture, but still unreliable. Our job is to find out accurate information for you. Physical and mental abuse might get people talking, but it wouldn’t provide accurate information.”
Geary nodded, secretly relieved that in the case of intelligence collection simple pragmatism had avoided the atrocities he had seen elsewhere. If he had learned his intelligence people were depending on torture, it would have meant they were as dysfunctional as the fleet’s tactics had once been. “Okay, let me in.”
The Syndic sailor jerked her head to look as the heavy door opened. Geary walked in, the Syndic sailor staring at his rank insignia, and stopped near her. “Who are you?” he asked. The intelligence types could have told him, but it seemed a good way to start a conversation.
The woman spoke steadily enough. “General Service Sailor Rank Seven Gyal Barada, Syndicate Worlds Self-Defense Forces, Mobile Space Forces Directorate.”
Geary sat down in the other chair, grateful that he worked in a fleet rather than a “mobile space forces directorate.” “I’m Captain John Geary.” The woman blinked in confusion. “I used to be called Black Jack Geary. That’s probably how you’ve heard of me. I’m the commander of this fleet.”
Confusion changed to fear. “That’s how—” the Syndic sailor blurted, then choked off further words.
Geary kept his voice calming and conversational. “How what?”
She was staring at him in near terror. “I heard the officers talking before our ship was destroyed. The enemy fleet couldn’t be here, they said. It couldn’t have got here. But it was.”
Geary nodded. “I did have something to do with that.”
“They told us this fleet was destroyed. In the home system. And you died a century ago.” The Syndic sailor had gone so pale that Geary feared she would faint.
“Were you injured in the battle?” he asked.
She shook her rapidly. “No. I don’t think so.”
“Have you been treated in accordance with the laws of war since being made prisoner?”
Confusion had returned again. “I…yes.”
“Good. How’s the war going?”
She swallowed and spoke the way someone did when reciting something. “The Syndicate Worlds are going from triumph to triumph. Final victory is within our grasp.”
“Is it?” Geary wondered for how long Syndic propaganda had been declaring final victory was nearly achieved. “Do you ever question that?” The woman shook her head, not saying anything. “I didn’t think so. It’s probably dangerous to question that sort of thing.” Still no answer. “Would you like to go home?”
She stared at Geary for a long time, then nodded. “So would I. But then my home is free. Yours isn’t.
Does that ever bother you?”
“I am a citizen of the Syndicate Worlds, living in prosperity and security thanks to the sacrifices of my leaders,” the sailor recited.
Amazing. That little piece of nonsense the Syndics get drilled into them hasn’t changed in a century. But then how do you improve on something that simple and misleading? “Do you actually believe that?”
“I am a citizen of the Syndicate Worlds—”
“I heard the first time. What would it require to get you to question that? To do something about it?”
She stared back at him, plainly terrified again. “I will not answer your questions.”
Geary nodded. “I didn’t expect an answer. I’m just curious what it would take for someone like you to turn against a government that enslaves you and mistreats you.”
The Syndic sailor stared back for a long while before speaking. “I have a home world to defend.”
Another pause. “I have a family on that world.”
Geary thought about that, then nodded again. Old motivations, but strong ones. Defend your home from foreign invaders. And keep your family safe from your own government. It had worked for countless totalitarian states throughout human history. For a while, anyway. “I’m going to tell you something. I don’t expect you to believe it, but I’ll tell you anyway. The Alliance doesn’t want to attack your world. It doesn’t want to cause harm to your family. No one in the Alliance is fighting because we fear our own government. Everyone in the Syndicate Worlds has the choice of continuing to support their leaders in this ugly war or calling for it to end on terms of mutual safety.”
Her face had closed down like a true believer being told that her ancestors weren’t watching over her, but the Syndic sailor said nothing. Remaining silent in the face of authority even when you disagreed with it was doubtless a survival tactic in the Syndicate Worlds.
Geary stood up. “Your ships fought bravely. I regret the fact that we had to destroy them. May our children meet in peace someday.” Those words finally drew a startled reaction, but the Syndic sailor just stared, not saying anything as Geary left the room.
“You can’t talk them into working against their leaders,” the lieutenant commented. “We try. You’d think self-interest would motivate them.”
Geary shook his head. “Lieutenant, if self-interest motivated humans, then you, I, and every other Alliance and Syndic soldier, sailor, and Marine would be sitting on a beach back on our home worlds drinking beer. For better or for worse, people believe in things they’ll fight for. In our case, better, in their case, worse.”
“Yes, sir. But you planted an interesting seed there, sir. We didn’t realize how that would play out.”
“What do you mean?” Geary asked.
“She thinks you’re dead, and she thinks this fleet was destroyed. Did you see how scared she was? Her metabolic readings went sky high. She thinks that we’re a ghost fleet commanded by a ghost.” The lieutenant grinned. “That just might impact Syndic morale a bit.”
“It might.” He studied the Syndic sailor through the one-way mirror. “What are the plans for her and the other prisoners?”
“We’d been trying to decide. They don’t have any intelligence value. But if we can use them to spread rumors, that might benefit us,” the lieutenant said carefully, “perhaps we should…consider…releasing them.”
“Do we still have their escape pods on board?”
“Yes, sir.” The lieutenant seemed surprised that Geary hadn’t been outraged at his suggestion. “We searched the pods for anything of value that might have been brought off their ships, but there’s nothing worthwhile in them either.”
Geary looked at the Syndic sailor, thinking that a few changes in events would have left him in her place.
A century ago if the Syndics had picked up his pod after the battle. A few months ago if this fleet had been unable to run from the Syndic home system, the ships all destroyed, the crews captured. “All right, then. Here’s my orders. There wouldn’t be any sense anyway in hauling around Syndic prisoners of no value that we have to feed and guard and keep confined. I think you’ve made a very good suggestion.
We can use these prisoners to our benefit. Make sure the other prisoners know who’s in command of this fleet. I’ll make personal appearances for any of them who don’t believe it. Then I want them returned to their escape pods and relaunched so they can land on one of the worlds in this system.”
The lieutenant grinned. “Yes, sir. They’re going to be surprised.”
“I like surprising the Syndics,” Geary noted dryly. “Don’t you?” The lieutenant smiled wider. “Make certain the pods have sufficient life support and fuel remaining to get those people home. They may need to be restocked. Have system checks run on them, too, to make sure nothing critical got broken by the energy release from the gate.” Intelligence types might not pay attention to that kind of detail if not reminded. “Understood?”
“Yes, sir.” The lieutenant hesitated. “This may not work, sir. And they’re not going to be grateful for being released. We may just end up fighting them again.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. A few sailors more or less shouldn’t make a big difference to the Syndic war effort.”
“That’s true, sir.”
“One other thing,” Geary added. “I could tell that you were reluctant to suggest this course of action to me. I want to know when the Intelligence section has ideas. If I don’t want to follow them, I’ll decide that after I’ve heard them.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you never know, Lieutenant. On the one hand, those sailors may spread rumors that we’re all demons. On the other hand, we treated them decently. If enough Syndics learn that we’re not demons, maybe that will help, too.” He left, thinking that in a few more days the fleet could leave Sancere, having taken everything it could carry and destroyed everything it couldn’t. About a billion Syndic citizens would be looking up at the stars and breathing easier. They would also be worrying about the Alliance fleet possibly reappearing someday. That wouldn’t be possible, their leaders would assure them, but then it should have been impossible for the fleet to show up here even once. One way or another, this fleet had given a lot of Syndics a lot to think about.
Of course, Syndic Force Alpha was still out there. Sooner or later, Geary was sure Force Alpha would try something. It couldn’t let the Alliance fleet leave without trying an attack of some kind, not if the CEO
in charge of it wanted to keep his or her head on their shoulders.
“SYNDIC Force Alpha’s moving.” The warning from a Dauntless watch-stander came almost simultaneously with an alerting message from Alliance Formation Echo, which was currently charged with blocking any attack by the surviving Syndic flotilla.
Geary rubbed his chin, studying the sightings coming in. The Syndic flotilla had been cruising along the outer edges of the star system for days now, watching from very long range as the Alliance fleet systematically looted supplies and repaired damage to its own ships. Now it had finally come around and begun accelerating toward the inner system. “Too early to tell where they’re aiming for.”
“Yes, sir,” Captain Desjani agreed.
“But even after the damage Task Force Furious inflicted, they’ve still got eight battleships and four battle cruisers.” Geary checked the display again. The two battle cruisers shot up by Task Force Furious had jumped out using different jump points over the last two days, doubtless going to notify the Syndic leadership that the Alliance fleet had shown up at Sancere and to call for reinforcements. One of the HuKs had also jumped out, heading for a third destination. It would be about a week’s transit time for all of them to their objectives, plus time to gather more warships, then a week back. More Syndics would be coming, but Geary planned to have the Alliance fleet long gone before they arrived. “Plus eight heavy cruisers and five HuKs. They outgun any one of our subformations, even though they don’t have nearly enough escorts.”
He pondered the situation. The Syndics had been about three and a half light-hours out from the star Sancere when they turned inward. Alliance Formation Echo was outside the orbit of the fifth world, only thirty light-minutes from the sun. The Syndics had been accelerating toward the inner system for three hours before any Alliance ship had seen them. Three hours’ time delay left a lot of room for as-yet-unseen changes.
On the other hand, even if the Syndics ramped all the way up to .2 light, it would still take them at least fifteen hours to even reach the area where Alliance Formation Echo was located. If they were aiming at any other Alliance formation, the time required to intercept at even .2 light ranged from twenty hours to well over a day. Nothing was going to happen immediately. But eventually things would happen quickly.
Don’t act too fast. But don’t put off acting, either. Do I want to stop all exploitation activity in this system to confront Syndic Force Alpha? But if I do, what’s to stop the Syndics from just racing through the system at .2 light or even higher? How long could they keep that up, denying me the chance to engage them and keeping my forces from continuing to loot the supplies we need? It would be the smartest thing they could do. Good thing they didn’t think of something like that sooner. “Captain Desjani. Assume the Syndics are planning to hit a smaller Alliance force, but will avoid action indefinitely if confronted with a larger force. What would you recommend?”
She considered the question, gazing at her display. “We can try seeding mines in their path, but at the speeds we would need to be going to ensure intercepting their track, the odds of planting a decent minefield are pretty low.”
“What about high-speed engagements? Could we manage to inflict much damage that way?”
Desjani grimaced. “If they’re going point two light and we’re coming in fast to meet them? Then the combined velocities would be, maybe, point two five light to point three light or higher. The relativistic distortion would be ferocious. Even the tiniest errors in compensating for it would mean clean misses.”
“So we have to slow them down to engagement speed and meet them with a more powerful force,”
Geary concluded.
“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” Desjani suggested unhappily.
Co-President Rione’s voice came from behind them. “Why do military minds always focus on one alternative?” Geary looked back at her. “The way to slow them down is to offer a target that seems attractive.”
“I don’t care for sacrificing units that way,” Geary stated flatly, earning an emphatic nod of agreement from Desjani.
Rione leaned forward. “You’re too honest in your thinking, Captain Geary. You, too, Captain Desjani.
Make it a trap.”
Geary exchanged a glance with Desjani as he spoke to Rione again. “What kind of trap?”
“I’m not a military expert, Captain Geary. Surely you can think of something.”
Desjani’s eyes had narrowed as she studied the display. “There might be a way.”
“Even with the Syndics able to see everything we’re doing?” Geary asked.
“Yes, sir. The trick would be making it look like we’re doing one thing when we’re actually planning another.”
Rione nodded. “Yes. Excellent. Present one image to the enemy while keeping your true intentions hidden.”