“You guessed right,” Desjani noted, her eyes showing the complete trust in him that bothered Geary. He didn’t like seeing it in her any more than he liked seeing it in so many others in this fleet, because of his certainty that sooner or later he would fail that trust. They believed he was perfect, and he knew otherwise.

“Explain, please?” Rione asked in a crisp voice. “Why would the Syndics have placed large nuclear weapons inside those moons? Some of those large fragments will impact on Sutrah Five.”

“That was a risk the Syndics were willing to take and one that I judged I had to take,” Geary advised heavily. “Given the unpopulated nature of much of the world, the odds of anything being hit are tiny. You see, Madam Co-President, the Syndics knew we’d have to do two things to liberate the prisoners on that planet. We’d have to go close to the planet, and we’d have to get the fleet into a tight formation so our shuttles wouldn’t have to fly any longer distances than necessary to handle picking up and distributing the people from the labor camp.”

He pointed to the spreading cloud of debris. “When we were close to those moons, or rather to where those moons used to be, they’d have set off those big nuclear explosives inside them, blowing them into dense interlocking fields of heavy fragments. We could have lost a good number of ships to that, even big warships that happened to be too close.”

Rione’s eyes glinted with anger. “No wonder the civilians I spoke with were frightened.”

“I doubt the planetary leaders knew exactly what was going to happen,” Geary suggested. “But they surely knew the Syndic leaders in the system were going to do something.”

“Something that would’ve subjected them to the same risk of bombardment by fragments of the moons and a retaliatory barrage by the fleet.” Rione’s face was grim. “Captain Geary, I know that under the laws of war you’re now justified in conducting an orbital bombardment of installations and cities on Sutrah Five, but I ask you to show some mercy to the civilian pawns living on that world.”

Geary could almost see the disdain on Desjani’s face at the suggestion, but he nodded. “We will retaliate, Madam Co-President, but I won’t slaughter helpless civilians. Please recontact the civil authorities on Sutrah Five and tell them to immediately evacuate all industrial, mining, and transportation centers. Any space facility or field is also to be evacuated. Tell them I won’t decide how much to destroy, including more than what’s on that list, until I see what sort of greeting our Marines encounter at the labor camp.” He let his anger show now, anger at the thought of what might have happened. “Make sure they understand that if there’s any more problems at all, there will be hell to pay, and they’ll be the ones receiving the bill.”

Rione nodded, smiling thinly. “Very well, Captain Geary. I will ensure your orders to them are understood and that they know their lives hang on the thread of their cooperation with us.”

Desjani shifted as if uncomfortable. “The military base, too, right, Captain Geary?”

Geary checked, seeing that the part of the planet holding the base was within line of sight of the fleet right now. “I assume it’s already been evacuated?”

Desjani frowned and checked, then frowned a little more. “No. A partial evacuation seems under way.”

“Partial?”

“Yes. There’s some columns of ground vehicles, but most of the occupants appear to be family members. Few uniforms noted.” Desjani quirked an eyebrow at Geary. “It looks like the Syndic troops are planning on crewing their positions to the end.” She didn’t seem bothered by the idea.

Geary was. He rubbed his chin, thinking. “Ground vehicles. Nothing else has been spotted leaving?”

“Let me see.” This time both of Desjani’s eyebrows went up. “Ah, yes. Several air vehicles departed over half an hour ago, headed toward the nearest mountain range. The system has maintained a track on them.”

“The top commanders, headed for a buried command bunker to ride out our retaliation in safety and comfort,” Geary stated.

Desjani nodded.

“I want to find that bunker.”

She grinned.

“I assume we’ve got kinetic rounds for orbital bombardment that can penetrate a fair distance into solid rock?”

“Yes, we do, sir,” Desjani replied with positive glee. Geary had telegraphed a desire to blow away Syndics, and her world was a happy one.

A swarm of shuttles had left the Alliance fleet, descending on Sutrah Five like a cloud of huge insects falling on their prey. Overhead, the ships of the Alliance fleet were concentrated into a tight formation that nonetheless covered a large sector of space above the planet. Geary knew that the inhabitants of Sutrah Five were looking up right now in fear, knowing that his fleet could rain death upon them and render the entire planet uninhabitable in very short order.

The landing force virtual display floated next to Geary’s seat, with the ranks of images from Marine officers presented like trading cards for his selection. He could, with the movement of a finger, talk directly to any of the Marines and see through their eyes, thanks to helmet-mounted sensors. But the only officer he called up was Colonel Carabali, not wanting to jump the chain of command, even though the command and control system made that entirely too easy.

“The reconnaissance shuttles have detected no signs of nuclear or other weapons of mass destruction at the labor camp site,” Carabali reported. “We’ll conduct another sweep, then land the recon teams.”

“Have you confirmed Alliance prisoners are present in predicted numbers?”

“Looks like it, sir.” Carabali grinned. “From up here they seem pretty happy.”

Geary sat back, smiling himself. He’d encountered a lot of situations since being rescued that he’d never expected, and most of those had been unpleasant. Duty had been a heavy burden. But now there were thousands of people who’d never expected liberation, viewing the shuttles of this fleet overhead, people who might’ve already spent decades as prisoners with no hope of release. This fleet, his fleet, was going to rescue them. It felt good.

If only the Syndics didn’t try anything else. It was still possible for thousands on the verge of being freed to die in that camp.

“Recon shuttles down,” Carabali reported, echoing the information on Geary’s own display, which he’d focused on the camp. “Teams deploying.”

Geary gave in to temptation, calling up one of the recon team officers. A window opened with a view from the officer’s helmet, showing bare dirt and battered structures. The sky was a washed-out pale blue verging on gray, its appearance as cold and drab as life must have been in that labor camp. No Syndic guards were visible, but the Alliance prisoners had formed up into ranks, their officers in front, waiting with anxious and dazed faces as the Marines dashed past them, searching for any signs of danger.

The Marine Geary was monitoring stopped in front of one formation of prisoners, facing the woman standing before them. “Are there any concealed weapons you know of? Any unusual activity?” the Marine demanded.

The woman, well past middle age, thin, her skin almost leathery from long exposure to the environment of Sutrah Five with inadequate protection and probably a prisoner for most of her life, spoke with careful precision. “No, Lieutenant. We were confined to quarters and couldn’t observe outside activity last night, but we heard the guards leave in a hurry before dawn. We’ve searched every part of the camp and found no weapons. The camp data office is in that building.” She pointed.

The Marine paused for a moment to salute. “Thank you, Commander.”

Geary pulled his attention away from the view, forcing himself to close the window showing that particular Marine’s point of view. He had a duty to keep his eye on everything going on around the fleet.