The Lost Stars: Tarnished Knight

by Jack Campbell

  “Twenty minutes,” Morgan replied.

  “Make it half an hour,” Drakon ordered before Malin could suggest something longer. Morgan always tended to push time constraints a bit too closely. “That will shove the assault time back fifteen minutes. I’ll notify the other commanders to move their assaults back fifteen minutes as well and let them know the snakes are prepared here. Let me know when everyone is ready to go.”

  Drakon linked in to another landline, this one leading back to his headquarters complex. “Sub-CEO Kai, I’ve been held up at an appointment. They were waiting for someone but only partially prepared for me, so our briefing later this afternoon will be delayed fifteen minutes. Acknowledge.” The message went by the landline to his headquarters, then was transmitted along normal channels so it appeared to have originated at the headquarters. Kai replied within moments, then Drakon called Sub-CEOs Rogero and Gaiene with the same message.

  He had barely finished when his comm system alerted him to a call from CEO Hardrad. Drakon blew out a long breath, settling his nerves and settling his expression and posture into the appearance of routine activity. It helped his display of confidence to know that his five subordinates who knew everything, who could have betrayed him, were all loyal. Malin, Morgan, Rogero, Gaiene, and Kai had all been with Drakon a long time. He didn’t hesitate to share his secrets with any of them, and he was certain none of them would have told Hardrad anything.

  Activating a digital background to make it appear he was answering from his office, Drakon accepted the call.

  Hardrad look mildly annoyed. That expression alone was enough to make nearly every inhabitant of this star system tremble. “I need to discuss something with you, Artur.” The ISS CEO routinely used first names with other CEOs. It wasn’t a gesture of comradeship but rather a lessening of their status compared to him and a not-so-subtle reminder of the power he wielded over them.

  “Go ahead.”

  “First, tell me why there’s a false background on your image,” Hardrad said. Of course, the snake systems had spotted that.

  “I just got out of the shower.”

  “An odd time of day for a shower,” Hardrad observed.

  “Not if you work out. What is it you need to discuss?”

  “A message in the comm system. It was high priority, intended for me, and yet held up within this star system for several days.”

  Drakon frowned. “It came through military channels?”

  “No.”

  That only left one alternative, the comm systems controlled ultimately by Iceni, as both Drakon and Hardrad knew though neither named her. Avoiding saying names in conversations like this was a precaution so elementary that CEOs followed it automatically, since security bots scanning transmissions for information and warnings keyed on names first and foremost. “Good,” Drakon said. “Heads would roll if my systems suffered that kind of failure.”

  Hardrad paused again, eyeing Drakon. “I’d like to speak with you in person, CEO Drakon, regarding the reasons for that failure. Here at my headquarters. The subject is sensitive enough that I wouldn’t want to entrust the conversation to any form of transmission.”

  Smooth. Drakon found himself admiring the skills of Hardrad despite his hatred of what the man stood for and his anger at what Hardrad had done in the past. Hardrad had led the conversation in such a way that it seemed he suspected only Iceni of wrongdoing and wanted to coordinate with Drakon before taking action.

  But even if Hardrad didn’t suspect Drakon of involvement with the delay in that order from Prime being received, he certainly intended to carry out those orders, which meant getting Drakon into ISS headquarters for a full security screen and interrogation.

  Drakon pretended to be thinking through his schedule. “All right. How big a rush is this?”

  “The sooner the better. I’ll send an escort.”

  Sure he would. A platoon of vipers in full combat armor. “I don’t want to do anything that attracts anyone’s attention. You understand. I don’t need an escort. My bodyguards can handle anything that might come up.” He said it with calm arrogance, a CEO sure of his status and power, and Drakon saw Hardrad relax slightly, like a cat who saw a mouse strolling closer and oblivious to danger. “How about if I start over there in about . . . half an hour?”

  A long pause this time, while Drakon wondered if he were starting to sweat and whether or not Hardrad could tell, then the ISS CEO nodded and smiled thinly. “Half an hour. If you’re delayed, I’ll be . . . concerned.”

  “Understood. You’ll be seeing me soon.” If Hardrad had a deception analyzer on this circuit he wouldn’t spot any falsity in Drakon’s voice because Drakon fully intended to be entering the ISS headquarters complex less than half an hour from now.

  Should he warn Iceni that Hardrad had finally received the orders to do a security screen on all CEOs? But with Iceni already well on her way toward that heavy cruiser there wasn’t any means to safely pass on such a warning, not without Hardrad’s very likely detecting the transmission. And Hardrad would be watching for exactly that, for co-conspirators to begin panicking and sending out warnings that the ISS was closing in. “Malin, Morgan, the snakes are gearing up not because they know what we’re doing but because Hardrad finally got that message and he’s anticipating trouble after he arrests me. He’s expecting me to show up at ISS headquarters in half an hour.”

  Morgan sounded like she was almost choking with mirth. “Oh, yeah. We’ll all be knocking on that door in half an hour. Boom, boom, baby.”

  “Can you communicate the delay in our jump-off to CEO Iceni, sir?” Malin asked. “She might be worried when we don’t attack as scheduled.”

  “She won’t like the delay. I don’t like the delay. But it’s necessary. If you can figure out a way to tell Iceni about the delay that doesn’t run a serious risk of being intercepted by the snakes, let me know.”

  Iceni was going to have to trust him. That was a hell of a lot for one Syndicate Worlds’ CEO to expect of another CEO.

  He thought about the mobile forces overhead. For the first time in a long while, he wished there was something to ask for help, something that would listen to a prayer that the delay wouldn’t cause problems for Iceni and her plans to deal with those mobile forces.

  Between the pitiless, ironfisted facts of life under Syndicate rules and the apparent randomness of life and death on the many battlefields he had seen, Drakon had long ago stopped having faith that anything cared about what happened to him. At times like this, he missed the comfort that might have brought and couldn’t help hoping that he was wrong.

  * * *

  ICENI walked briskly through the tube mating the shuttle to Mobile Forces Unit C-448/Cruiser/Heavy/Combat, trying to reveal no signs of concern but frowning around slightly in the usual manner of a CEO, which was calculated to immediately put subordinates onto the worried defensive.

  The commanding officer of C-448 saluted in the Syndicate manner, bringing his right fist across to lightly rap his left breast. “Welcome to my unit, CEO Iceni. We are honored and surprised by your personal visit.”

  Iceni sketched a very brief smile back at him. “Thank you, Sub-CEO Akiri. I’ve long believed that not every inspection should be announced in advance. Are you prepared to storm the gates of hell?”

  Akiri blinked at the code phrase, took a deep breath, then tried to nod calmly. “We are ready to follow you, CEO Iceni.” Turning to the woman standing beside him, Akiri gestured aft. “Make all necessary preparations.”

  Her smile a little too tense and eager, the woman saluted him. “Five minutes.”

  Iceni watched her walk off, not fearing betrayal from that source. Executive Marphissa, the second-in-command of C-448, had once had a brother. That brother hadn’t been killed fighting the Alliance but had been arrested by Internal Security before dying during interrogation of what the snakes always called “heart failure.” Having done her homework, Iceni knew how badly Marphissa wanted to avenge that d
eath. Find the tools and use the tools, the voice of one of her old mentors came back to Iceni. We’re artisans, Gwen, who use people to shape outcomes. Just pick the right people, point them in directions they already want to go, and they’ll do your work for you. And they won’t leave any of your fingerprints showing after the deed is done, unless of course you want to take credit for it.

  “She’s capable,” Akiri murmured to Iceni as Marphissa left. “But you have to watch her very closely.”

  Cutting down subordinates wasn’t all that unusual (after all, every executive needed someone to blame if anything went wrong), but that Akiri had done it in such a blunt and clumsy way lowered Iceni’s opinion of him a bit more. Have you wondered yet, Sub-CEO Akiri, why out of all the mobile forces unit commanders who pledged loyalty to me, I chose your cruiser to personally command from? Do you think that was a compliment? I know when a subordinate needs to be closely watched, and Marphissa isn’t the one I’ll be watching.

  Akiri started to say something else, but Iceni held up a restraining hand as her high-priority comm alert sounded. She didn’t have to entirely fake a look of irritation as she thumbed the accept command, seeing the image of her all-purpose personal assistant and occasional hired gun, Mehmet Togo.

  “We have received a summons from ISS headquarters,” Togo began in an emotionless voice. “They are in receipt of a message from CEO Kolani claiming that you intentionally delayed her receipt of orders from the government at Prime.”

  Damn. The order to Hardrad had already been impeded to the limit they could expect to delay it, but the order to Kolani should have been stuck in the comm system for days yet. Some comm tech too smart for his or her own good must have spotted it and pried it loose from the code hobbles that were supposed to keep the message hung up inside the message-processing software.

  Despite all of the security codes and scrambling protecting this conversation on her private line, Iceni knew better than to assume the conversation was private. Those who didn’t assume that Internal Security was always listening tended to pay very high prices for their carelessness. So Iceni put on a look of puzzled anger. “Orders? What orders?”

  Togo spread his hands, pretending bafflement as well. “I do not know.”

  “How are we supposed to respond to the ISS without knowing what orders were allegedly delayed?” Iceni demanded. “Military orders? Shouldn’t those have come through those channels?”

  “I would think so, Madam CEO. Should I contact the CEO with responsibilities for that area?”

  Which would be Drakon, of course. “No. Not yet. I’m shocked to hear of this, but I can’t confront anyone else when I know so little. Contact CEO Hardrad and tell him that I need to know what this is about so I can take any necessary action.”

  The screen blanked and Iceni glanced at Akiri. “Have you seen those orders?”

  He nodded. “CEO Kolani forwarded them to all ships. We received our copy a few minutes ago. All mobile forces in this star system are to proceed to Prime Star System to operate under direct control of the supreme council of the Syndicate Worlds. I’m surprised that you were able to hold up a command directive like that in the communications system without alerting anyone.”

  “It’s not easy.” Had someone in Drakon’s camp let the message out? Had Drakon done it? If he planned on betraying her, he would regret it. She hadn’t been bluffing about that. “Did CEO Kolani also give you movement orders when she forwarded the message to you?”

  “No, Madam CEO. We’re supposed to prepare for departure, but that’s all we’ve been told.”

  Iceni smiled, willing herself into calmness. “CEO Kolani doubtless wants to hang around here to watch me get hauled into ISS headquarters and torn into very little pieces.” She checked the time. “In a few minutes things will begin happening on the surface.”

  Another chime on her private channel, the notes different this time, and given an ominous aspect from knowing whose call they announced. Iceni took an extra moment to compose herself, then answered again, this time seeing the deceptively bland features of the head of the Internal Security Service forces in this star system. “CEO Hardrad, I’m glad you called. What’s this about some orders being held up?”

  Iceni had never thought that Hardrad looked the part of a snake, which might have helped his rise through their ranks. Bland-featured, his hair, skin, and clothing all shades of beige, Hardrad seemed even after detailed study to be a perfect colorless bureaucrat. Even his eyes rarely revealed anything but mild disinterest. Iceni, who had studied not only Hardrad’s looks but also his career, had not been fooled by the outer ordinariness of the man. Judging by his actions, inside he was a very ruthless snake indeed. Now Hardrad pursed his lips in the mildest of reactions to Iceni’s question. “A command directive from Prime, Gwen,” he said.

  “I should have seen that,” Iceni protested. “I am responsible for the overall defense of this star system. Why didn’t I see it?”

  “It was directed to CEO Kolani.” Iceni hadn’t expected Hardrad to appear tense, but it was still unnerving to see him regard her as if she were a piece in a game with an ending that was foreordained. “Why are you in orbit?” he asked her.

  “As senior CEO in this star system, I’m responsible for all Syndicate Worlds’ assets.” Iceni waved one negligent hand around to indicate the ship. “I’m conducting an inspection.”

  “No inspection was on your schedule.”

  “I prefer surprises,” Iceni said. “You accomplish more that way.”

  “That is true,” Hardrad agreed. A lesser man would have betrayed some feeling then, some darkly humorous acknowledgment that they were both speaking primarily about the ISS and its tactics. But not Hardrad. His expression didn’t even flicker. “However, your inspection will have to take place on another day. I need to see you in person. Right away.”

  She put on her best expression of affronted dignity. “Because CEO Kolani, who commands the most deadly forces in this star system, is accusing me of doing something which is probably the fault of her own communications staff? I don’t control military communications.”

  “No. You don’t. We need to talk about who does. You understand?”

  So Hardrad suspected Drakon? That was reasonable under these circumstances, and yet . . . If he’s also finally received his own orders, Hardrad wants me in his headquarters so he can find out every disloyal thought I’ve ever had. What better way to get me into that building than by implying that we’re going to act jointly against Drakon?

  Assuming that Drakon hasn’t really betrayed me.

  “We should discuss this right away, Gwen,” Hardrad continued. She had never liked the way he used her first name in conversations like this, implying not only familiarity but also inferiority compared to him. “I’ve notified the ISS representatives on C-448. Some of them will escort you back down to the planet.”

  Iceni spent a long moment looking at the blank screen after Hardrad’s image had vanished. For all his power, Hardrad knew that he had to at least feign respect for senior CEOs. He was acting far too confident by making such an open move against her now. What does he know? She checked the time, and her breath caught. Drakon’s attack should have started two minutes ago.

  “Your orders?” Akiri asked softly.

  Strike now at the ISS representatives on this warship and the other warships as well? But if Drakon’s move had just been delayed, if he hadn’t outright betrayed her to the snakes, then starting her own move now would betray Drakon’s impending assault which had to succeed. Hardrad would know almost immediately if the status feed from his representatives aboard C-448 was broken. At that point, Iceni might as well broadcast the news that she would be assuming command of all of the mobile forces and her demand that Kolani submit to Iceni’s authority. Without Drakon’s actions on the surface triggering her agents on other ships she would have to do that, before the snakes on those other ships could strike at the regular unit officers or activate disabling worms t
hat Internal Security was known to plant in every critical system.

  Akiri took a message on his own comm unit, then faced Iceni. “The ISS representatives aboard this unit will arrive in five minutes to escort you back to the surface.”

  What the hell is Drakon up to? How much longer does he need? Or has he already backstabbed me? In which case, I need to act now to try to save my own skin.

  “Your orders?” Akiri repeated, his own tone growing not just urgent but also anxious.

  CHAPTER TWO

  TIME crawled for Drakon as the assault troops made minor changes to their prepositioning, every movement careful as they worked to always remain concealed from the ISS headquarters. Drakon kept his eyes on the ISS complex, seeing nothing at all out of the ordinary across all passive visual spectrums and comm frequencies, but now viewing the ordinary as menacing.

  “Assault Force Three is ready,” Morgan reported.

  “Good. Watch out for those vipers when we go in, Roh. They’re tough.”

  “We’re tougher. And every soldier with us hates them. Who doesn’t know someone who got hauled off to a labor camp or worse by vipers or other snakes?”

  Drakon nodded to himself, thinking of the worries he had lived with for decades, wondering day by day no matter where he was if a door would come crashing open, followed by a squad of vipers with orders from Internal Security to take him off for interrogation about crimes he might or might not have contemplated but would surely confess to after enough physical and mental duress. He wondered if anyone in the Syndicate Worlds had ever been safe from that worry. Snakes. The common nickname for ISS personnel spoke to the general attitude toward them, but the ISS had been vicious and efficient enough to keep dissent down nonetheless.