Tarnished Knight

by Jack Campbell

  Iceni eyed Togo skeptically. “She was chosen for promotion to subexecutive rank despite her history and evaluations?”

  “I could not determine why, Madam President. There is a medical evaluation declaring her fit for immediate promotion, but no explanation for it. Morgan herself could not have been in any position to bribe or influence anyone with authority to make that call, but there is no trace of any patron who would have intervened on her behalf and no room in her history for such a patron to have been acquired.”

  “When you said that Colonel Morgan’s history was interesting, I didn’t expect it to be quite this interesting,” Iceni commented.

  “Unfortunately for Sub-Executive Roh Morgan, no ground forces commander would accept her assignment to their command because of the oddities in her record and the less-than-standard psych evals. Finally, Drakon accepted her in his command on the grounds that she deserved a chance.”

  Iceni raised an eyebrow at Togo. “Is that your assessment, or do you have firm evidence that was his reasoning?”

  “Drakon’s acceptance message said, ‘This officer deserves a chance to succeed.’ His decision to give her that opportunity formed the foundation for Morgan’s intense loyalty to him, though my sources say she is also now very admiring of Drakon’s skills as a leader and a combat commander.”

  That was indeed intriguing. “So Colonel Morgan is actually your age?”

  “She was just short of eighteen when she volunteered for the suicide mission. Chronologically, she is now older than me, Madam President. Physically, because she did not age during survival sleep, she is twenty-seven years old. She has served with Drakon for eight years now.”

  What would have motivated a girl not yet eighteen years old to volunteer for a suicide mission? Iceni sighed, wondering how many girls, and boys, of similar age had died during the century of war with the Alliance. “So Morgan was already working with Drakon when Malin arrived?”

  “Yes. All accounts indicate that they disliked each other intensely from the moment they first met.”

  “Hate at first sight?” Yet they had both stayed with Drakon. Was he that inspiring a leader? It didn’t seem like enough of an explanation. “How are Morgan’s psych evals now?”

  “Close enough to standard deviation to be judged acceptable,” Togo said.

  That wasn’t exactly a ringing endorsement of someone’s stability. “Interesting. That’s more than I knew, but it leaves a lot of unanswered questions. Keep an eye out for anything else you can learn. Those two are very close to General Drakon, and understanding the why of that will help me understand General Drakon. Do you have any questions about how to handle matters while I’m gone?”

  Togo hesitated. “I ask that I be permitted to accompany you, Madam President. As we have recently seen, even mobile forces units are not immune to the threat of assassins, and if someone in the military wished you ill, having you struck down while outside this star system might be seen as a means to deflect attention from the guilty party.”

  She gave him an intent look. “Do you have any intelligence that something like that is planned?”

  “No.”

  “I have no reason to believe that anything like that is under way.” Not quite true. Not true at all, actually. But her source close to Drakon was in a position to know if Drakon made use of an in-place asset to order such a strike against her. Even Togo didn’t know about that source, though, because it was simply too important to risk compromise.

  “Madam President, I do not know what General Drakon has told you—”

  “I am not fool enough to base my security on what I am told by those who could threaten it,” Iceni said. “Do you have solid information, or good intelligence, indicating an active threat from that direction?”

  Togo paused, then shook his head. “No, Madam President.”

  “It’s your job to watch for danger to me, and you do it well. Keep doing it while I’m gone. The best service you can render me is to stay here, monitor the actions of potential threats, and help keep things running smoothly until I return.”

  “Yes, Madam President.”

  Something else occurred to her then, along with a measure of surprise that Togo himself hadn’t already brought it up sometime ago. “What about the search of Sub-CEO Akiri’s room and belongings? What did you find?”

  Togo shook his head. “Nothing inconsistent with what was known of him, Madam President.”

  “No clues as to why he was the assassin’s first target? No indication of why CEO Kolani kept him in command despite her low opinion of him?”

  “No, Madam President. There was nothing to offer any explanation of either. Perhaps there was no link between those things. CEO Kolani may have enjoyed bullying Sub-CEO Akiri, and he was designated a special adviser to you, which would explain the assassin’s interest.”

  Plausible. Yet . . . But she had no time to focus on that now. “All right. That’s all.”

  After Togo had left, Iceni took a few moments that she couldn’t spare to think about his report. Drakon gave Morgan a chance when no one else would. A young woman, little more than a girl, with considerable physical and mental trauma in her recent past. I wouldn’t have given her a chance. Who would take such a risk? But Drakon did. No wonder she’s so loyal to him. No wonder his soldiers are loyal to him. He seems to care about people despite all the CEO training that he went through.

  I wish I could trust that man. I think if I could ever trust Artur Drakon, I might actually come to like him.

  And then he might stick a knife in my back. I’m glad Togo will be keeping an eye on him.

  * * *

  SUB-CEO Marphissa seemed happy to see her, but then Iceni couldn’t remember the last time one of her subordinates had been foolish enough to look unhappy at her appearance. Yes, I do. It was that executive who was skimming funds. He looked very unhappy. Not as unhappy then as he did when he was punished by being given a uniform and sent off to help in the hopeless defense of that star system near Alliance territory. Where was that again? It doesn’t matter now. All the defenders died, the Syndicate Worlds recaptured the star system eventually, and in the end the Syndicate Worlds lost the war, so it meant nothing. Something worth dying for, Drakon said. Yes. We all need that.

  “You said we’d be conducting exercises, Madam President?” Marphissa asked.

  “That’s correct. Are all of the ground forces soldiers aboard?”

  “Yes. One squad on each of the three heavy cruisers, and the three shuttles are stowed on the exteriors of the cruisers as well. They brought a lot of equipment and supplies with them.”

  “Good. We’ll head out toward one of the jump points and put the warships and soldiers through their paces to make sure everyone is still sharp and practice coordinated actions.” That was the sort of thing CEOs routinely did, making people run in circles to show they could, so no one would question it.

  “Which jump point?”

  Iceni settled herself in her seat on the cruiser’s bridge. Midway had a lot of jump points for other stars, eight to be exact. It was that and not population or wealth or industrial capability that gave Midway its name and made Midway a valuable and important star system. It had also earned the star system a hypernet gate, which in turn made the system even more valuable.

  One of those jump points led to a star named Pele. That was the jump point the Alliance fleet had used not too long ago on its way to learn more about the alien enigma race. Except for occasional futile attempts to gain information about the enigmas, no Syndicate Worlds’ ships had made that jump for more than half a century. When the enigmas had attacked the Midway Star System, they had appeared at that jump point.

  As she looked at the representation on her display of the jump point for Pele, Iceni remembered what Togo had told her concerning Colonel Morgan. Which star system
had it been, she wondered, where Morgan had almost died? It struck Iceni then that Morgan’s life had been shadowed by terrible events, yet at the same time Morgan had repeatedly been so fortunate that luck alone didn’t seem enough to explain her survival until now, let alone her status with Drakon.

  Have the living stars looked out for you, Colonel Morgan? But, then, why have they also been so cruel to you?

  There were no answers to those questions—there were never any answers to questions like that—and Sub-CEO Marphissa was awaiting instructions. Iceni pretended to study her display for a moment, then waved in the general direction of two of the jump points, one of which led to Taroa and the other to Kane. “Head that way.”

  The closest of those two jump points, that for Kane, was out past the orbit of the last planet in the star system, a frozen ball of gas and rock mockingly nicknamed Hotel for the abandoned research facility sitting vacant on it. That put it almost six and a half light-hours distant from where Iceni’s flotilla sat. At point one light, they could cover that distance in sixty-five hours, or almost three days. But charging toward the jump point at that velocity would attract attention. Was it riskier to attract that attention or to spend twice as long getting there at a more routine point zero five speed? Put that way, it didn’t seem wise to loiter on the way to the jump point. Every minute might count.

  “All warships are at maximum fuel state?” Iceni asked. Her flotilla status readout showed that they were, but no one could trust those figures. Unit commanders routinely gun-decked the real numbers in order to look better. A good flotilla commander found ways to keep track of the actual data despite that.

  “Yes. Ninety-eight to ninety-nine percent fuel status for all units,” Marphissa replied immediately.

  “Then let’s see how well these units can sustain acceleration,” Iceni announced. “Bring formation velocity to point one light and hold it there.”

  The small flotilla surged into motion as their main propulsion units lit off. Iceni watched them accelerate, her attention mainly for C-818. That heavy cruiser’s main propulsion units, badly damaged during the battle with Kolani, had just recently been declared fully repaired.

  They weren’t.

  “What’s the matter with C-818?” Iceni asked in a deceptively mild voice as the heavy cruiser lagged farther and farther behind the other warships.

  Marphissa had already been checking the same thing. “C-818’s commander says the propulsion units are only putting out sixty percent of maximum. They were all supposedly tested at one hundred percent when repaired.”

  At least they were still near the planet. Iceni called Togo. “Whoever certified the repairs on the main propulsion units on C-818 is either incompetent or corrupt. Find out who that individual was and make an example of that person.”

  “How strong an example? Should I have them shot?”

  She really hated finding out someone had failed totally in their responsibilities. “If it was a matter of corruption, yes. If it was incompetence, bust that person down to the lowest-level dirt sweeper.”

  “Those speaking for the citizens have been agitating for the courts and legal system to become a functioning justice system,” Togo pointed out. “A summary execution might help them win wider support for that idea among the other citizens.”

  Why did the simplest things have to be made difficult? “Fine. Incompetence is an internal disciplinary issue and not subject to the courts by Syndicate law, which we have yet to alter. If your investigation finds corruption instead, give the individual a quick trial, then have them shot.”

  That took care of that aspect of the problem, but it didn’t help C-818. “Sub-CEO Marphissa, order C-818 to return to orbit about the planet and respond to orders from . . . General Drakon until I return.”

  “General Drakon?” Spotting an already-annoyed Iceni’s reaction to the question, Marphissa quickly saluted. “I shall inform them of your orders immediately, Madam President.”

  “And tell them to get those propulsion units fixed properly!”

  “Yes, Madam President.”

  Iceni glowered at her display, letting her bad mood settle around her like a dark halo. Without C-818, she had only three heavy cruisers left. There were also the four light cruisers and seven of the Hunter-Killers, but that made for a ridiculously small force to assault a battleship that might have substantial defenses and armaments already activated.

  At least the HuKs sent to Taroa and Kahiki had returned in time to accompany her. If nothing else, they might provide targets for the battleship long enough for some of the other warships to get in damaging shots.

  But the HuK she had sent to Lono hadn’t made it back yet, and it should have. What had happened at Lono? One more thing to worry about.

  “Madam President?”

  Iceni swiveled her head like a gun turret to focus on Sub-CEO Marphissa. “What?”

  “Can I provide our units with an estimate for the duration of this activity?” Marphissa asked carefully.

  “Is there any problem with supplies on any of the units?”

  “No, Madam President. All units are prepared for extended operations.” Marphissa eyed her before adding one more thing. “All weapons are also at maximum.”

  “Good.” In that respect, things were as good as they could be. And she had Marphissa to thank for keeping the warships in readiness. “You’ve done well. Effective immediately, you are confirmed as flotilla commander until further notice.”

  “I—thank you, Madam President.”

  Iceni found herself smiling thinly at Marphissa. “Don’t thank me until you learn what I’m going to expect of you in that position.”

  * * *

  MORGAN strode into Drakon’s office, looking suspiciously cheerful. Before the door could close, Malin followed her. That caused Morgan’s jovial mood to dim for a moment, but then she turned a grin on Drakon. “Give the word and she’s dead.”

  Drakon leaned back in his seat, taking his time replying. “President Iceni, you mean.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ve got someone right next to her ready to move. We’ve even got deniability built into this. It’s sweet.”

  Instead of answering her, Drakon looked at Malin.

  “You need to ask yourself two questions, General,” Malin said. “First, do you trust the agent who claims to be ready to act on our behalf—”

  “That agent has every reason to carry out the action!” Morgan interjected.

  “—and, second but most importantly, do you want Iceni dead? What would you gain from that, and what would you lose?”

  Morgan shook her head in disgust. “What would he gain? Anybody but you would already know the answer to that.”

  Holding up one hand slightly to stop the arguing, Drakon shifted his gaze back to Morgan. “How certain are we of this agent?”

  “I sent out feelers, the agent responded, and we did the usual dance around each other to see if our interests coincided. The agent can get right next to Iceni,” Morgan emphasized, “and if the agent was able to arrange things properly, the hit does not have to be in this star system.”

  “The agent is new,” Malin said. “We don’t have much track record to go on.”

  “How did you—?” Morgan glared at him. “If we wait for everything to be perfect, we’ll never move. But Iceni will. General, you know we can’t screw around indefinitely waiting for a one hundred percent chance of success.”

  “That’s true,” Drakon agreed. “But the bigger question is whether I want to, and if I did want to, whether now would be the right time. I told both of you, and no one else, where Iceni is going and why. You know how important it is that the mission be successful.”

  “That sub-CEO knows her job,” Morgan said. “She can do it without Iceni.”

  “That is not a certainty, and Iceni has n
ot targeted you, General,” Malin said.

  “That we have determined,” Morgan snapped back at him.

  “I have more confidence in you than that,” Malin told her with a cold smile. “If someone was trying to get at General Drakon, you would know.”

  That compliment took Morgan aback for a moment, but she rallied quickly. “I’m not perfect. General Drakon knows better than to put total trust in anyone,” she added with a look that made it clear that the jab was aimed at Malin.

  “Then why should he trust this agent? It’s an old ISS trick, General. Dangle an opportunity in front of someone, and when they take the bait, you have them. How do we know that President Iceni doesn’t want you to send that order? If you do, and this is a setup, you’ll be playing right into her hands.”

  Morgan’s eyes blazed. “Are you implying that I’m working with Iceni?”

  “I would not imply a charge like that. I’d make it outright if I had proof.”

  “Only if my back was turned! General, I know my job. I know what the agent will do.”

  Drakon closed his eyes, trying to sort out options. The bottom line is, I don’t want to kill her. Not unless I’m forced to. She’s doing a good job running her half of things and hasn’t been working to undermine me in any obvious ways. Whether she’s working in less obvious ways is another question. “No,” he finally said. “I don’t think this is the right time, the solution isn’t one I want to pursue unless it is clearly required, and I would like to have a better track record on the agent before I entrust that person with such a critical move.”