Drakon spoke up. “We’ll be sending soldiers along for security aboard the freighters after you pick up the Reserve Flotilla personnel. We don’t know if any snakes are among those captured personnel. We don’t know how many of those personnel will be more loyal to the Syndicate government than to the idea of joining us. It should be a minority, maybe a small minority, but we can’t have them in a position where some of them could seize control of one or more freighters. The ground forces personnel will be commanded by an officer of sufficient seniority to deal with any matters that arise.”
Drakon paused as Bradamont’s eyes fixed on him. “That officer will be Colonel Rogero.”
Bradamont smiled ruefully and shook her head. “I have too little experience in negotiating with Syndics.”
“We’re not Syndicate anymore, Captain,” Drakon said, “which is why I will also tell you that you’ll be on one of the heavy cruisers along with the Kommodor, and Colonel Rogero will be on one of the freighters. Until you reach Atalia. Then you’ll transfer to Colonel Rogero’s ship.”
“So near yet so far?” Bradamont asked. “You don’t need to send Colonel Rogero, General. I already agreed to go.”
“Rogero’s going,” Drakon said. “Because he’s the best officer for the mission and because I know you and he can work together to get this done.”
Iceni nodded. “That was General Drakon’s judgment, and I have agreed with his reasoning. The fact that you have proven your ability to work with Kommodor Marphissa is also a factor in my decision. Do you have any questions? No? If there is anything you feel is needed for this mission to succeed that you do not have, inform me or General Drakon personally. Now, I have one question for you that does not pertain to this mission. When Black Jack first came to this star system he gave his rank as fleet admiral. It has been brought to my attention,” she added with a sidelong look at Drakon, “that he has consistently referred to himself as admiral and worn an Alliance admiral’s insignia during the last two times he was here. Are you aware of the circumstances behind the use of a lower rank by Black Jack?”
“Everyone in the fleet knows that, Madam President,” Bradamont replied. “He was a fleet admiral during the final campaign of the war with the Syndicate Worlds, but his current rank is admiral.”
“Which is a lower rank than fleet admiral?” Iceni pressed. “Captain Bradamont, why is Black Jack using a lower rank than he did when his fleet first repelled the enigmas from this star system?”
“He reverted to captain when we returned to Alliance space after that engagement, then he was promoted back to admiral.”
“Why?” Iceni asked, not bothering to hide her bafflement.
“I don’t know all of the reasons, but I know the reversion to captain rank was at least partly a personal matter.”
“A personal matter?”
“Captain Desjani,” Bradamont said, as if that explained everything.
“Who is?” Iceni prompted.
“Geary’s wife. Captain Tanya Desjani.” Bradamont looked from Iceni to Drakon. “You hadn’t heard? I assumed Syndic intelligence would have learned that. It’s no secret in Alliance space. Not at all.”
Iceni stared at Bradamont. “We are a long ways from Alliance space, Captain Bradamont, and Syndicate intelligence isn’t in the habit of forwarding reports to star systems in rebellion. Admiral Geary was interested in a subordinate? And instead of just sleeping with her, he accepted a lower rank to legitimize it?”
Bradamont’s expression didn’t change, but her posture stiffened. “Regulations in the Alliance fleet do not permit relations between officers and their subordinates in the chain of command.”
“We have similar rules,” Iceni said, openly amused. “Those with power don’t need to pay attention to them.”
She noticed that Drakon didn’t quite avoid a flinch at that. Feeling guilty about your drunken roll in the hay with that crazy female Morgan at Taroa, General? You should feel guilty. Or are you just afraid that I’ll learn about it, not knowing I already have?
“Admiral Geary behaved with honor,” Bradamont replied. “He is a man of honor as our ancestors understood it. Admiral Geary and Captain Desjani followed the rules and regulations of the fleet and acted honorably.”
“I see. Thank you, Captain. Once you’ve been escorted back to General Drakon’s headquarters, get in touch with Colonel Rogero. He’ll work you into the troop lifts up to the freighters.”
Iceni watched Bradamont leave. “Have you noticed that even when that Alliance officer is at her most relaxed with us, there is still a barrier?”
“That’s scarcely surprising,” Drakon replied. “To her, we still look like the enemy.”
“I don’t think it’s just that. Kommodor Marphissa and Kapitan-Leytenant Kontos in their reports to me both said they did not feel Bradamont was holding back on them. Yet I see that sense of reserve in her when dealing with us.”
Drakon snorted derisively. “Kommodor Marphissa was a lower-midranked executive. She didn’t make decisions, but she paid the price for decisions made by her superiors. That’s even more true of Kontos. You and I were CEOs, part of the hierarchy of the Syndicate Worlds. We called the shots.”
“Not as much as we would have liked to,” Iceni said, her voice subdued.
“Yeah. That’s why we’re here. But it’s not surprising that, to an Alliance officer, we’re in a different category from more junior personnel. We were CEOs. We did things.”
She looked back at him for a while before answering, trying to sort out her feelings. “I did what I had to do. So did you.”
“Yeah,” Drakon repeated.
Only one word, yet the feeling behind it came through clearly to Iceni. A feeling she understood all too well. “I did what I had to do” isn’t what anyone would want carved on their memorial. Unhappy at the direction the conversation had taken, Iceni gestured upward. “The Syndicate is ahead of us on tricks with the hypernet. I have a strong feeling the Alliance is even farther behind than we are.”
“A feeling?” Drakon pressed.
“There are some facts. Black Jack wanted the device from me that would keep a gate from being collapsed by remote command. That meant the Alliance didn’t have it.”
“You gave him that?”
She paused, then nodded, not looking at him. “Yes. It was a deal.”
“Are there any other deals?”
Iceni turned her head to look directly into his eyes. “None that you are unaware of. I made that deal with Black Jack before we revolted, Artur. I couldn’t coordinate it with you, I couldn’t even talk to you about it, not with the snakes still everywhere. Do you know what I find most intriguing about that interview with Captain Bradamont?” It was a very clumsy change of subject. Why am I never at my best with Drakon anymore? He’s rattling me for some reason.
Drakon didn’t call her on the awkward segue though. “No. What did you find intriguing?”
“The bit about Black Jack’s rank. Despite Captain Bradamont’s impassioned defense of his honor, Black Jack must have manipulated his rank to technically avoid violating Alliance rules about marrying a subordinate. But why? Why bother with the theater? Why did he then choose only to advance back to the rank of admiral? And what do we know about this Captain Desjani?”
Drakon poked in a query. “Battle cruiser captain. Dauntless. Rated highly effective based on what we were able to learn of her. As a lieutenant, led a boarding party in an operation that won her the Alliance Fleet Cross. That’s about it. No, wait. In the report Morgan and Malin gave me when they got back from talking to Black Jack to set up that trick we pulled on Boyens. Captain Desjani was there. Black Jack insisted that she be present. That confirms the relationship that Bradamont told us about.”
Iceni rested her chin on one hand as she thought. “The whole show must have something to do with Alliance rules and protocol. Maybe he had to justify what he did to their fleet and their citizens. How that translated into playing games with rank
, I don’t know. Maybe, with time, Captain Bradamont will tell us more about it. I didn’t want to push her during this meeting. She’s acting very open with us, as if there’s not a secret in her pretty little head. But she has a hidden agenda. People always have hidden agendas.”
He took a few moments to reply, looking steadily toward the far wall, then finally glanced at Iceni. “My first impressions of her were that she was exactly what she looked like. Not much hidden. I’ve talked to Colonel Rogero again since then, and he says she is trustworthy. That evaluation means a lot in my mind.”
Iceni laughed sharply before she could stop herself. “A man in love trusts the object of his affections? Just how many tragedies have been set into motion by that?”
“That’s . . . a point.”
Iceni gave him another searching look. “What I just said didn’t make you happy.”
“Is it that obvious?” Drakon shrugged. “You know Colonel Gaiene. That is, you know who he is now.”
“A drunken letch who always seems to be seeking out the next woman to share his bed. But I saw the reports for Taroa. He was highly effective. Are you saying he trusted the wrong woman?”
“In combat, he can forget for a few moments. But it wasn’t a matter of betrayed trust. It was exactly the opposite.” Drakon grimaced, clearly unhappy at the memories this conversation was calling up. “Here’s the quick and dirty. Lara was a major in another unit. She and Conner Gaiene never had eyes for anyone else. Conner’s outfit got caught in an ambush and were being cut to ribbons. I had my hands full repulsing a major counterattack. Somehow, Lara pulled together all of the soldiers close to her and punched through to Gaiene. She saved Conner and about half of his unit, but she never knew that because she died during the final push that broke through the Alliance forces trapping him.”
“Oh.” Iceni looked away and didn’t speak for several seconds. “That’s why he’s like that.”
“Yes. Conner Gaiene had his dream woman once. Just about every day I’m reminded of what happened to him when he lost her.”
“And you don’t want to see that happen to Colonel Rogero.”
“No. If this Bradamont is bad, and I don’t think she is, she’d hurt him. If she’s as good as she seems, she could hurt him a lot worse.”
“Not every man falls apart when he loses a woman,” Iceni said. Have you avoided relationships out of fear of that, Artur Drakon? The snakes and the Syndicate couldn’t break you, but you worry that a woman could? “You must have lost someone in the past.”
“This isn’t about me,” Drakon objected, a little too fast and a little too emphatically.
“What if it were?”
He looked down, away, then back at her. “It isn’t.”
“Then you listen to me, Artur Drakon,” Iceni said heatedly. “From what you say, this Lara was an exceptional woman who gave her all to save the life of the man she loved. And that man has rewarded her sacrifice by wasting the life she died to save. If I ever gave my life to save a man I loved, that man had damned well better live the rest of his life in a manner that justifies the sacrifice that I made for him! Is that clear?”
Drakon looked steadily back at her. “Absolutely clear. Why do I need to know that?”
“I don’t know! But now you do. Be certain that you do not forget it.”
“I won’t.”
She sat alone in the room for a while after Drakon had left, staring at the display but not really seeing it. Why am I more upset about the attempt on his life than I am about the bomb aimed at me?
It’s because I do like that big lunk. He’s a better man than he realizes he is. He’s—
I like him too much.
You can’t do this, Gwen. Mixing personal feelings and politics is a guarantee for disaster. He is a man, and he obviously doesn’t have any particular feelings for me, so he would either use my feelings to get what he wants, or if he’s not quite that awful, he would laugh at me. Either of those would be better than his feeling pity for me because he couldn’t return such feelings. I will never accept pity from anyone.
Never.
THE hopefully named Recovery Flotilla had departed only the day before. Drakon had watched it go, taking along with it not only Colonel Rogero and six platoons from his brigade, but also a substantial portion of the warships available to defend this star system. The Alliance captain had been right. Even all of the warships they had couldn’t adequately protect Midway. But that was something the brain knew. The gut still watched those warships go and felt the desperate need to call them back.
And, inevitably, because the universe seems to enjoy mocking the hopes and the plans of mere humans, a freighter carrying urgent news had arrived at the jump point from Maui Star System within an hour of the departure of the Recovery Flotilla.
Which was why he was once again meeting with Gwen Iceni, who had seemed unusually irritable since their last one-on-one meeting. This time, though, Colonel Malin was briefing them while Iceni’s assistant Togo watched with the closest thing to disapproval his deadpan expression ever revealed.
“The news from Maui concerns the Supreme CEO in Ulindi Star System,” Malin reported.
“Supreme CEO?” Drakon checked the star display. Ulindi was one of three stars that could be reached from Maui. Another one of those stars was Midway itself. “What does that mean?”
“I’d say it was pretty self-explanatory,” Iceni commented shortly.
Malin, experienced in dealing with superiors who didn’t always get along with each other, continued speaking as if he hadn’t heard the remark. “From what we have learned despite all attempts to keep anyone from finding out what is happening at Ulindi, it means that CEO Haris managed to kill the other CEOs in that star system and overawe all opposition.”
Drakon squinted at his display, mistrusting what he was reading. “Haris is the snake CEO. How did he get the Syndicate government to sign off on a title like Supreme CEO?”
“Haris is no longer answering to the Syndicate government.”
“A senior snake rebelled?”
“Yes, sir.”
Drakon looked toward Iceni. “Do you know Haris at all?”
She shook her head. “No. I never associated with snakes.” Relenting a bit, she added more. “Even snakes can be ambitious. This Haris might have seen his chances of gaining more power falling away with every star system that left Syndicate control.”
“So he decided to start his own little empire?”
Malin brought up a new image on the display. “General, reports from Maui say there is a strong flotilla there from Ulindi. It was on its way to the jump point for Midway, but halted that movement when merchant ships arrived reporting the presence of the Alliance fleet. That news was outdated when they got it. Black Jack had left Midway soon after the freighters carrying the news to Maui.”
“It bought us time,” Iceni said. “Good.”
“A little time. It leaves us with six days to act, Madam President,” Malin explained. “A freighter headed for Rongo via Maui left Midway three days ago, doubtless taking word of Black Jack’s departure with it. The freighter would have taken four and one-half days in jump space to reach Maui, would have passed on its information, and the Ulindi flotilla would have headed for the jump point for Midway. It would probably be half a day before they reached it and jumped for Midway, after which another four and half days would bring them here. Factoring in everything, the Ulindi flotilla should arrive six days from now.”
“That is very little time,” Iceni complained. “I can’t argue with your timeline, though. They won’t delay any longer once they hear that Black Jack is gone. Apparently, Haris wants to expand his little empire. But that flotilla at Maui does not look like a force aimed at conquering this star system.”
“No, Madam President, it is not. The Ulindi flotilla consists of a single C-class battle cruiser and four Hunter-Killers. If there are ground forces embarked, their numbers are very limited.”
“No grou
nd forces?” Drakon pondered that. A flotilla built around a battle cruiser could do a lot of damage to a star system. But it couldn’t take over that star system. Even if Midway surrendered under the threat of bombardment, Ulindi’s control of this star would last only as long as it took the battle cruiser to leave. “How much else does Ulindi have?”
“According to our best information, only one heavy cruiser, which must have remained at Ulindi to protect Haris. The ground forces at Ulindi total perhaps a division, but most of that is recently raised and barely trained. Less than a single brigade of former Syndicate soldiers form the core of Haris’s ground forces. The rest of internal security at Ulindi is handled by local militia, police, and snakes.”
“Not much to build an empire on. That sounds like barely enough to maintain control of Ulindi. What’s he planning then?”
Drakon had addressed the question to both Iceni and Malin. Iceni frowned and spoke first. “He must know that we intervened at Taroa. Maybe he heard about our push to get a much tighter defense agreement with Taroa even though the government there is supposed to be keeping it secret.”
Malin shook his head. “Our offer to Taroa is widely known all over that star system. More than one Free Taroan government official must have talked freely.”
“Which means Haris heard about it,” Drakon said.
Iceni made a fist and almost slammed it onto the table before controlling herself. “I should have realized that trying to tie Taroa much more closely to us would cause local problems. Haris sees us as a threat to his ambitions and wants to hit our mobile forces before we can take advantage of Taroa’s resources as well.”
“That makes sense,” Drakon agreed. “Anyone planning on empire-building out here could well see us as rivals who need to be taken down as soon as possible.”
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