Jack Campbell - Victorious

Desjani spoke with obviously forced control. “Madam Co-President, I am supposed to be informed and give my approval before any prisoners are transferred on or off this ship.”

“It was, as I said, last-minute. I had to make a snap decision to keep the Syndic from being sent on to the prison ship taking the others to the camp at Tartarus.”

Breaking in before Desjani could erupt again, Geary spoke to Rione. “What’s so special about this Syndic?”

“He wants to talk to you.”

Geary glared at Rione. “There’s a billion somebodies who want to talk to me. What’s so special about this Syndic?”

She gazed back dispassionately. “He’s the CEO who was the second in command of the Syndic reserve flotilla, captured by us after his ship was destroyed in the battle here.”

“He is?” Geary’s anger drained as he considered that. “Why does he want to talk to me?”

Rione leaned back against the nearest bulkhead, crossing her arms. “He says he wants to make a deal.”

“A deal.” His limited experience with Syndic CEOs had left Geary with a bad taste in his mouth, but on the other hand, there were a couple of them who had acted honorably.

Desjani, whose opinions of Syndics and their trustworthiness rarely rose higher than the tiniest possible increment above absolute zero, kept her glower. “What kind of deal?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Rione asked. “As a high-ranking officer in the reserve flotilla, he probably knows as much about the aliens as any Syndic outside their Executive Council. He wants to trade that knowledge for something.”

Geary gave Rione a skeptical look. “What’s he like?”

“I don’t know enough to give you an assessment.”

“But you think I should talk to him.”

Rione rolled her eyes. “Yes, Black Jack. Talk to the man.”

“Fleet Admiral Geary,” Desjani said in a tight voice, “I recommend caution in dealing with an enemy who has nothing to lose.”

Without waiting for Geary’s reply, Rione nodded seriously to Desjani. “I concur. Would you agree to accompany us to the interrogation, Captain?”

Desjani shot a suspicious glance at Rione over her courteous words, but nodded. “Thank you.”

Geary paused to grab some painkiller for his headache, then headed for the hatch. “Let’s go.”

The Syndic had been taken to the interrogation rooms in the intelligence section, rooms whose systems could remotely monitor everything going on inside and outside any person seated within. Geary took a moment to review what was known of the Syndic CEO. Name—Jason Boyens. Rank—Third-Level CEO. Last-known assignment—second in command in a flotilla. Except for the name, it told him nothing new at all. “All right. Let’s get this over with.” Geary glanced over at Desjani and saw her face still set with barely controlled anger. “What?”

“I’m just recalling the last Syndic turncoat who offered us a deal, sir,” she answered in a harsh voice. “He had a Syndic hypernet key we could use to reach the Syndic home star system.”

“Oh.” That sounded stupid as well as inadequate. “Wasn’t that guy ever questioned in an interrogation room?” He’d never felt any desire to learn more about the events that had led to the fleet’s near destruction.

Rione answered, her own gaze fixed on the readouts. “He was. Either he was incredibly gifted at deceptive answers so subtly rendered that we couldn’t see the truth, or he was himself duped by the Syndics and didn’t realize the role he was playing for them.”

“Whatever happened to him? I’ve assumed the ship he was on was destroyed in the Syndic ambush.”

Rione didn’t answer, but her eyes flicked meaningfully toward Desjani.

Desjani’s own expression took on a stony cast. “He was aboard Dauntless , sir.”

“Then what—?” He choked off the question, knowing what the answer had to be. The fleet he’d assumed command of hadn’t had any compunction about killing prisoners of war. It wasn’t hard to figure out what had happened to a Syndic who had double-crossed that fleet once it became clear that his offer had actually been a trap.

But Desjani answered anyway. “He was executed on the spot per orders from Admiral Bloch,” she said in a toneless voice. “The spot in question being three meters behind and one-half meter to the left of the fleet commander’s seat on the bridge.”

It took Geary a moment to get it. “He was sitting in the observer’s seat?” He couldn’t help looking at Rione, who had customarily used that same seat ever since Geary had assumed command, but she seemed both unsurprised and unmoved by the news.

“We burned the seat cushions,” Desjani added. “The bloodstains would’ve come out, but nobody wanted to use them again.” She paused at whatever she saw in Geary’s eyes. “No, sir. I was busy trying to fight my ship through the ambush. The execution was carried out by the Marine guarding the traitor.”

He looked away for a moment. “It was a lawful order. I couldn’t have blamed you if you had carried it out.” It wasn’t hard to remember the shell-shocked expressions of the crew after the Syndic ambush, how badly they’d been stressed by the sudden loss of so many of their sister ships in the fleet. None of them would have hesitated for a moment to take revenge on an individual in great part responsible for that. “We won’t let this Syndic do the same.”

“We can’t trust him,” Desjani repeated.

“I have no intention of trusting him.” Desjani seemed slightly mollified by Geary’s words, so he turned and walked into the interrogation room while Desjani and Rione remained behind, along with the intelligence personnel, to watch the monitors.

CEO Boyens stood up when Geary entered the room. He looked nervous, which was understandable. One leg was still in a light flex cast, revealing battle injuries that hadn’t quite healed. The CEO hesitated at the sight of Geary’s insignia. “Admiral Geary?”

“Yes.” Geary kept his voice hard. “What’s the deal you want?”

The Syndic took a deep breath before speaking again. “I have information you need. In exchange for it, I want your agreement to defend human space against the aliens.”

He took a moment to absorb that. “You’re the first Syndic to openly admit they exist, and you want us to commit to protecting the Syndicate Worlds from them?”

“Yes.” He’s telling the truth so far, Lieutenant Iger’s voice whispered to Geary through the comm link.

On the heels of Iger came Rione’s voice. How much does he really know?

That was a good question. Geary frowned at the Syndic CEO. “How do I know that you know all that much?”

Boyens smiled crookedly. “I’ve been second in command of the reserve flotilla for ten years. I know as much as our Executive Council told anyone and as much as I could personally observe.” Ten years? Desjani’s voice demanded.

Geary understood her question. “That’s a very long time for anyone to serve in any assignment. Why were you there that long?”

This time Boyens shrugged. “I was exiled to that assignment, for want of a better word. I’m an engineer by training, and I’d established a promising start-up company. A much-bigger corporation wanted our business, and the CEOs running that corporation had the ears of the CEOs running the Syndicate Worlds. My company got taken from me. Instead of being smart and lying low while I worked my way up the CEO ladder until I could exact revenge in a few decades, I made a fuss over it, citing the Syndicate Worlds’ laws that had been ignored. Before I knew it, I’d been ordered to a position in the reserve flotilla.” The CEO shrugged again. “An assignment out on a border far from any chance for advancement. I couldn’t even tell anyone why I was really there since officially the reserve flotilla only existed as a backup against the Alliance. I also couldn’t get transferred out, thanks to the people I’d ticked off earlier.” It all reads out as truthful, Iger advised.