Desjani’s lips compressed into a thin line, then she shook her head. “Probably not, sir. Almost certainly not. Their commander would be sent to the labor camps for wasting time.”

Give Desjani full credit. She didn’t want to divert to help those people, for a long list of good reasons, but she’d given him an honest assessment even though it hurt her case. He thought about the people on Wendig One. It was entirely possible that some of them, even adults, had never seen any ship in their star system. Why would any ship come here once the hypernet had been constructed? Now, with their means of life failing, they would look up and see this fleet and watch it pass by and leave. Then they’d maybe see a Syndic flotilla and watch it pass by and leave. Then there’d be no more ships. While the air got colder and harder to breathe. While the elderly and the youngest children died one by one, the strongest citizens clinging despairingly to each other as death came slowly for them each in turn, until Wendig Star System was as devoid of human life as it had been for uncounted millennia before the first starships came here.

Geary drew in a deep breath. The vision he’d seen of the dying colony had been so real, as if he were there. Where had it come from?

Maybe he was being guided. He knew what his heart said, and he knew what everything he’d been taught said. Measured against that was the cruel reality of war and the necessities of command. But there wasn’t a Syndic flotilla right on this fleet’s tail, no imminent threat to measure against those innocent lives.

Everyone was watching him, waiting. Only he could decide. And that knowledge tipped the balance, because he had a responsibility to make hard decisions, and going onward and leaving the colony to its fate didn’t require a decision, just the absence of one until the option became too hard to carry out. “I feel,” Geary began, “that we have a duty to help those people. That this is a test of us, one we must pass to prove we still believe in the things that made the Alliance great. We will pass that test.”

It felt like all those on Dauntless’s bridge had been holding their breath and now let them out all at once. Geary looked to Desjani, dreading to see a look of disapproval there. He knew how Desjani felt about Syndics. And now Geary wanted to risk her ship to rescue some of them.

But Desjani didn’t seem angry. She was watching him as if trying to see something not apparent to the naked eye. “Yes, sir,” she said. “We will pass that test.”

THE video message feed from Wendig One was broken by static, another ugly reminder of what they had left behind at Lakota. “I can’t trace it to interference. It’s probably because their equipment is patched together,” the communications watch explained.

A man looked out, his expression baffled. “Alliance warships, we are in receipt of your message. We’re incredibly grateful for your assistance. Is the war over? How do you come to be this deep in Syndicate Worlds’ space?”

Geary checked and saw that the fleet was still almost two light-hours from Wendig One. Not the best circumstances for a conversation. Extremely annoying circumstances for a conversation, really, when his reply would take two hours to reach the Syndic and the Syndic’s next answer another two hours to reach Geary. “This is the Alliance fleet commander. We won’t deceive you. The war is not over. This fleet is on a combat mission, on its way back to Alliance space. But we do not war on civilians or children. We will divert from our course through this system far enough to be able to send shuttles down to evacuate your people. There must be no delays. You have my word on the honor of my ancestors that you will be treated properly while aboard Alliance ships and dropped off safely in the next inhabited Syndicate Worlds’ star system we reach. Provide an accurate count of people involved, broken down by families so we can ensure that no families are separated during the transit. We’ve identified the landing pad on the northwest side of your town as the best location for our shuttles to land. There’s some drifting sand covering part of it that needs to be swept clear by your people if possible. Everyone must be standing by at the nearest access to that landing pad when our shuttles arrive. No weapons of any kind are to be brought, nor anything that could be used as a weapon. Personal luggage must be limited to ten kilos per person. Are there any questions?”

Geary leaned back and closed his eyes. If there were any questions, he wouldn’t hear them for at least four hours.

Less than two hours later Captain Desjani took a message, then got up from her command seat and stepped close to speak to Geary, activating his sound-deadening field. “My systems-security officer reports that the subnet we were told about before leaving Branwyn was used again to try to plant a worm. The worm was identified and blocked, but all attempts to ID the originator have failed.”

“Messing with our system jump drives again?”

“No, sir.” Desjani tilted her head toward the star-system display. “It would have infiltrated the combat systems of two warships and caused the targeting and launch of kinetic bombardment munitions aimed at the town occupied by the Syndic civilians. A systems-security alert has been sent to all warships in the fleet to scrub their combat systems for any worm that might have gotten through by other means.”

That took his breath away for a moment. “So our saboteurs are willing to kill helpless Syndics as well as unsuspecting Alliance comrades. Which ships?”

“The munitions would have been launched from Courageous and Furious, sir.”

“Ships commanded by two of my strongest supporters in the fleet.” Geary felt a slow burn of anger. His fleet and shuttles never could have reached the Syndic survivors before those munitions struck. “Someone has a sick sense of vengeance and a very ugly willingness to do anything.”

Desjani’s expression showed she agreed with him. “In half an hour they’ll know the worm was blocked. That’s when the munitions were supposed to launch.”

“Thank you, Captain. I have a couple of people to talk to.” Geary left the bridge and waited until he was in his stateroom, with all security features active, before calling Rione and filling her in. “I don’t know if anyone will react when the worm doesn’t work, but you might have your sources watching.”

Rione, her face pale, nodded.

Geary passed the same information to Captain Duellos, then waited, wondering what he’d do if somehow another worm hadn’t been blocked or detected, if some of his ships did launch bombardment munitions against that dying Syndic colony. Nothing happened, though, and no one called. He hadn’t really expected anyone suddenly to rage in disappointment when the set time passed, but apparently not even subtle signs of frustration had been spotted in anyone. The only thing he could be certain of was that whoever had planted the worms would now be aware that their chosen subnet path had been compromised.

That and whoever had tried to destroy three Alliance warships earlier was now also opposed to Geary’s aiding these Syndics. At least that helped reassure him that he was indeed doing the right thing.

After all of that a reply finally came from the Syndic colony.

The Syndic he’d seen before was now anxious. Geary couldn’t help thinking how much more nervous the Syndic would be if he’d known how close his town had come to being turned into a large crater. “Sir, my people are very worried. Please don’t take this wrong, but many don’t trust the Alliance. Unless things have changed a great deal since our last news from outside, and it has been decades, there has been very little consideration for civilians in this war. I’m trying to convince them to trust you, because I can’t think of any reason why you’d bother to kill us aboard your ships rather than just letting us die here. No reason except… the women… the girls… all the children. I’m sorry, but you must understand what we fear. What can I tell them, sir?”