Jack Campbell - Guardian

Iger made an apologetic gesture. “Everything for the last century has been focused on the Syndicate Worlds. Even before that, I would guess that acquiring new data about star systems so far distant from the Alliance was given a very low priority. They were a long way away. They didn’t matter.”

“They matter,” Senator Suva said angrily, “if they act as some sort of police force in Sol Star System and threaten us!”

“There is no record of that before this,” Senator Sakai mused, gazing at his own data pad. “These ships, it is like viewing an alternate version of what we have become. It is remarkable to see living history like this.”

“I prefer my living history less well armed and less aggressive,” Geary replied.

“I agree,” Sakai said. “The last visit here by an Alliance warship was over a century ago, but at that time and prior to that there is no record of encountering outer-star warships in Sol Star System.”

“A vacuum of power?” Geary asked. “We weren’t here, so someone else came in?”

“And someone else took advantage of their presence here to endanger us?” Rione made an angry gesture. “It’s not that simple. Not where Sol and Old Earth are concerned. They are supposed to be separate from politics. They are supposed to be kept free of involvement in disputes. I am very surprised that anyone made such a blatant move to claim some sort of authority here.”

“The Alliance built a hypernet gate here,” Geary said.

“Yes. Forty-five years ago,” Rione said, her eyes on her data pad again. “A serious investment of money and resources at a time when the Alliance did not have any of either to spare.”

“Then why did the Alliance build it?” Geary asked.

Apparently unaware of how everyone else was watching her, awaiting an answer, Rione shrugged. “From what I have been told, it was a political ploy. A desperate one, but judged worth trying as a means of possibly gaining external support against the Syndics and as a way to boost morale within the Alliance. Sol is a special place to humanity. The Alliance publicly proclaimed it was building the gate here to benefit Sol and to make it easier for humans to visit the Home of us all. Very altruistic. The actual intent of the hypernet gate was to symbolically tie Sol to the Alliance, even though no one said that, and symbolically tie the Alliance to Sol. The Syndics couldn’t play that game since we sat between them and Sol.”

“Sol must have approved letting the gate be built,” Charban pointed out.

“You don’t understand. Sol is still fragmented. There are dozens of different sovereign governments in this star system, and on Old Earth itself, legacies from ancient times. They get along now, having warred to exhaustion centuries ago, but they’re probably still debating whether or not to approve letting the Alliance build the gate here. The authorities at Old Earth are the voice of an organization built on the ashes of the last wars here, an organization designed to prevent the projection of power by any government in Sol Star System.” Rione stopped speaking, looking appalled, then slapped a palm against her forehead so hard that the sound of the gesture reverberated around the bridge. “ Stupid! We should have realized this would happen!”

“What do you mean?” Senator Sakai asked, while everyone else stared at Rione.

“We caused this!” Rione said. “We built the hypernet gate as a symbol. That’s what it is, a symbol whose meaning could provoke others but bring us no certain benefit. Why are these outer-star warships here? Why do they claim to protect Sol Star System and Old Earth? Because the Alliance staked a symbolic claim that other star systems near here could not ignore. They are here because we built that gate even though we should have known that Sol could not stop anyone else from doing what we did, acting unilaterally in the supposed best interests of Sol.”

After a long moment, Sakai nodded. “I believe that your reasoning is correct.”

“Then,” Senator Suva insisted, “this may be a misunderstanding.”

“I’m happy to go with that,” Geary said. “But we have to convince those outer-star people to laugh it off as well.”

“They’re not going to accept anything that we say!” Rione replied. “As far as they are concerned, we planted a flag here, in Sol Star System. They are going to assert their own authority to counter our claim. Even if they haven’t been bribed, they would contest our presence here. If they have been paid to ensure we don’t leave this star system alive, it would only reinforce their own agenda of keeping the Alliance out. For all we know, whoever tipped them off that we were coming also claimed that we were coming to establish a permanent military presence here.”

Costa grimaced. “I’d like to tell them to eat ground glass, but they outnumber us considerably.”

“We must consider the appropriate course of action,” Sakai agreed. “For safeguarding the interests of the Alliance, for the safety of the mission, and for the safety of all aboard this ship.”

“Nothing must be done until the governmental representatives on this vessel reach a decision,” Suva said, her eyes on Geary. “Our lives are on the line here as well.”

Geary could feel the fleet personnel on the bridge stiffening at the words, but before he could speak, Rione did, her tone serious and agreeable.

“You are right, Senator,” Rione said. “This must be debated and discussed. We must come up with a policy to address these unanticipated circumstances, and we should begin that discussion immediately.”

“You have no vote in the matter,” Suva said with disdain.

“Actually, I do. Senator Navarro gave me his proxy before we left.”

“He—!”

“But I don’t wish to use that proxy in haste. We need to talk about this. About who might have tried to ensure the failure of this mission and the destruction of this ship. About our best course of action. But we must talk in private.”

“I don’t—” Costa began.

“Of course we need to meet in private,” Suva declared, looking around the bridge, then pointedly at Costa. “Senator Sakai?”

“Of course,” Sakai echoed.

“Admiral Geary,” Rione said, “until we return with further guidance, you are to adhere strictly to the instructions the government already gave you.”

“Yes!” Suva agreed. “Strictly adhere to them, Admiral.”

“I will,” Geary said, trying not to smile. Rione was keeping a straight face, and if she could, so could he.

Charban watched the three senators leave, then gave a rueful look to Geary. “Not being actually elected to anything, or holding any proxies for anyone who was, I have no role in the debate. I will instead attempt to pass your earlier message on to the Dancers, unless you believe it should be changed.”

“Please do, General.” Geary indicated the Dancer ships on his display. “The Dancers still need to be told to stay well clear of the outer-star warships. But in light of that message we received, tell them there is some sort of misunderstanding that we need to work out, and until we do, it would be dangerous to approach those other ships.”

“I will do my best to get the message across, Admiral,” Charban said. He paused, then saluted with a wry smile before leaving the bridge.

Geary glanced at Desjani, who was staring stiff-jawed at her display. “What’s the matter?”

She turned her glare on him. “They tied your hands. Or did you miss that?”

“No, they didn’t. I was told to continue to follow previous instructions. Rione made sure that was emphasized before she and the others departed.”

The glare shifted to realization. “And your previous instructions allow you to act as you see fit in unanticipated circumstances.”