Marphissa spoke in a low voice that carried across the hush on the bridge. “The enigma ship detected by Pele must have been a final check before their attack force jumped here. There are no distress signals from any surviving humans?”
“No, Kommodor. There is no indication that any humans survived.”
The recently promoted CEO that Kontos had encountered here had not ruled Iwa Star System for very long.
“Look at that,” Diaz said in a wondering voice. “They even flattened abandoned weapons emplacements. There was nothing in those emplacements, but they destroyed them anyway.”
“Black Jack told us the enigmas had wiped every trace of human presence from the star systems they had occupied,” Marphissa said, feeling numb. She had seen worse in her time. Much worse. The war with the Alliance had created scenes of destruction that dwarfed this one. But few that were as complete in their annihilation, and the people here had been totally helpless. They would have been able to do nothing as the enigma bombardment approached. Nothing but wait until nothing was left.
“What should we do, Kommodor?”
Marphissa took a long, slow breath as she considered her options. “Our orders are to warn Iwa and to establish contact with Granaile Imallye. Midway is already aware of a possible threat from Iwa. Moorea is not. Neither is Palau. We will continue on to Moorea, try to speak with this Imallye, and warn everyone that the enigmas have an alternate attack route into human space. And we will not waste time. Proceed toward the jump point for Moorea at point two light speed, Kapitan.”
“Yes, Kommodor.” Diaz glanced at his display. “That jump point is four and a quarter light hours distant from us. The transit will take a little more than twenty-one hours.”
“Very well.”
As Manticore came about and accelerated toward the jump point for Moorea, Diaz gazed morosely at his display. “Do you think the enigmas will try to establish a base at Iwa, Kommodor?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Black Jack reported that Pele has remained completely vacant since the enigmas pushed the Syndicate out of that star system. But Iwa would be a toehold in human-occupied space.”
“Why, Kommodor? Why do the enigmas do this? Didn’t Black Jack tell us they don’t want us to know anything about them? Fine. We’ll leave them alone.”
“They are afraid that we won’t stop trying to find out things about them,” Marphissa explained. “They must view the entire universe with fear, and fear creates cruelty and ruthlessness.”
“It does in people,” Diaz agreed.
Marphissa closed her eyes, wanting to block out the vision of what had been done to Iwa Star System. “We are fortunate they could only reach Iwa. This is a tragedy, but there wasn’t much here. If the enigmas could have hit Taroa or Ulindi the loss of life would have been much, much greater.”
It was cold comfort, but it was the only comfort that Iwa offered.
And it helped distract her slightly from the even colder fear that the enigmas might have also found a way to get the extra jump range they needed to reach Taroa and Ulindi directly.
* * *
HABITS taught during Syndicate rule died hard. The ambassadors from Taroa and Kahiki sat apart from each other, uncomfortable with their bodyguards forced to remain outside. A woman who represented what was left of Kane after the civil war and Syndicate bombardment had taken a chair to one side, her eyes shifting rapidly about the room as if expecting ground attackers or a weapon dropped from orbit to strike at any moment. A young man who had somehow survived the snake purge of suspected traitors on Ulindi looked both determined and frightened.
Iceni noticed that the representatives from Taroa, Kahiki, and Ulindi all kept glancing at Drakon as if regarding him as the one who was in charge. Drakon was the one they knew from his time in their star systems. The woman from Kane gave those kind of glances to Iceni, who had herself visited there. All of the representatives gave the appearance not of ambassadors for their star systems but like junior executives facing Syndicate CEOs who could ruin their lives and their worlds on a whim.
“Not much, is it?” Iceni murmured to Drakon where he sat beside her. “Four star systems, and only Kahiki is intact.”
Drakon nodded, keeping his eyes on the star system representatives as he answered in the same low tones. They didn’t have to worry about their comments being overheard since the security field would hide both their words and the movements of their lips, but still they spoke discreetly because another lesson of the Syndicate was that you never knew who might be listening despite all of your security measures. “None of them can even defend themselves, let alone contribute to defending anyone else.”
“Not today,” Iceni agreed. “And not tomorrow. But Kane, Ulindi, and Taroa have the resources and the worlds to support decent defense assets someday, and the labs on Kahiki might produce the advances we’ll all need to hold off the Syndicate and the enigmas.” She reached out one finger to tap a control and negate the security field, then spoke in a normal voice. “We have a matter of great concern to discuss with you, as well as a proposal that should work to all of our mutual benefit.”
The suspicious eyes watching her grew even warier. “Madam President,” the ambassador from Taroa said, “we have all had far too much experience with Syndicate offers that were supposedly to our benefit. We know that you would not make that sort of offer,” she finished, sounding hopeful and almost sincere in her belief.
Drakon replied, sounding appropriately gruff and foreboding. He and Iceni had agreed that he would best serve as the bad cop in this negotiation. “With the exception of Kahiki, Midway has taken substantial risks, and combat losses, to aid your star systems. And we have already committed to defend Kahiki. That’s in addition to our mutual defense agreements with Taroa.”
The woman from Kane shook her head rapidly. “No one would accuse you or President Iceni of not having aided us,” she said. “Is the Syndicate preparing another attack?” The question came out with a pleading tone, as if begging them to tell her the answer was no.
Iceni spoke soothingly. “We have no information about Syndicate attack plans, though as you all know the Syndicate will not stop trying to regain control of all of our star systems. After their defeat at Ulindi, it should take the Syndicate a little while at least to muster major new forces to attack any of us, though smaller attacks are possible at any time. I’m afraid the larger threat that concerns us comes from another direction.”
“Imallye?” the Taroan asked. “She was threatening Moorea, but that information was over a month old by the time we heard it here.”
“We can handle Imallye if we have to,” Iceni said, making her flat statement sound confident despite their lack of knowledge of just how powerful Imallye actually was. “No. This threat is not from a human source.”
That information hit the four representatives with the force of a blow. They actually all flinched or jerked back as if Iceni had swung a fist their way.
“There were alien ships in this star system recently,” the man from Ulindi said.
“Those were Dancers,” Drakon replied. “Perhaps not allies of ours, but certainly not enemies. You’ve all heard that Dancer ships saved this world from being devastated by an enigma bombardment.”
“The enigmas? Is that the threat?” The representative from Ulindi looked at the others as if seeking either confirmation or support. “Is Midway asking us for help to stop another enigma attack? We have none to offer.”
“We are all too aware of that,” Drakon said.
The man from Ulindi flushed with embarrassment. “As grateful as we are for your assistance in throwing off the Syndicate yoke that bound us, we lack any warships. You know that. You took with you every Syndicate mobile forces unit captured at Ulindi.”
Drakon’s eyes narrowed.
Iceni considered intervening, but decided to let Artur run free a little lon
ger. She wasn’t too pleased with the attitude of the representative from Ulindi.
“You mean the Syndicate units that we captured at Ulindi,” Drakon said, his voice low and powerful. “While we liberated Ulindi from the Syndicate. I lost good men and women in that fight.”
“So did our warships,” Iceni said, more pleasantly than Drakon, which somehow made the point just as effective.
The young man from Ulindi turned even darker with embarrassment, then shook his head, his hands moving indecisively. “I’m sorry, honored—I mean, we lost people, too. The snakes killed so many. Everyone who they suspected might have planned or led or done anything else against the Syndicate. We lost all of the people who should have been here instead of me, all of the people who would have known how to talk to you. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”
“Neither do I,” Iceni replied. “This is uncharted territory for us all. All of you know that if Midway had desired to conquer your star systems, we could have done so.”
“You might still be trying,” the woman from Taroa suggested with a thin smile.
“True,” Iceni agreed. “Or we could have done as the Syndicate does, bombarding you into submission.” She pretended not to notice the flare of reflexive fear in the eyes of the woman from Kane. “But we have not, and we will not.”
“We will not,” Drakon repeated in slow and heavy tones.
“The Syndicate taught us to wonder what anyone’s motives were,” the Taroan noted. “What are yours? We are grateful for the assistance you provided us. But we’re still waiting to learn the price.”
“We reached mutual defense agreements with you,” Drakon pointed out.
“Until we get the unfinished battle cruiser the Syndicate bequeathed us in operational condition, that agreement is pretty one-sided in its demands on you. Why? Why take on that burden?”
“Because someday that battle cruiser will be operational,” Iceni said. “And you’ll have other warships. And when that day comes, we don’t want you as enemies. We’d much prefer to have you as friends.”
“But . . . why?” the young man from Ulindi asked in a pleading voice. “What do you get out of this?”
“We get the Syndicate off our doorstep,” Drakon replied. “Instead of being a launching point for attacks on us, you are hopefully going to be allies against the Syndicate.”
“Allies?” The man from Kahiki spoke for the first time. “As in Alliance?”
“No,” Drakon said. He knew that after the century-long war the term “Alliance” was poison anywhere in Syndicate space.
“You have an Alliance officer among your staff. It’s widely known.”
“I haven’t tried to hide it,” Drakon said. “Captain Bradamont was assigned here by Black Jack. Personally assigned to Midway by Black Jack, with orders to assist us in defending against the Syndicate and the enigmas. But she has no role in policy and does not interfere with the way we run this star system.”
“Does she follow your orders?” the man pressed.
“If they are consistent with her orders from Black Jack,” Iceni said. “She’s very open about that. You know Alliance officers. It wouldn’t be honorable to lie to us.”
That jab at the reputation of Alliance officers even got a smile from the woman from Kane. The woman from Taroa actually laughed.
“So what does Black Jack get out of it?” The man from Kahiki wasn’t going to be sidetracked.
“He gets a hypernet gate on the far side of what used to be Syndicate space,” Iceni said. “He gets a stable government here, and we have been stable. I’m certain that your own spies have informed you that the general and I have the support of the people. That matters to Black Jack, too. And, of course, he wants us able to defend human space against incursions by the enigmas. Which brings us back to what General Drakon and I want to warn you of.”
She waved a hand over a control, bringing up a star display that floated just to one side of her. “Here are our local star systems, including Midway, Kahiki, Taroa, Kane, Ulindi, and Iwa. Over here you see those star systems occupied by the enigmas over the last century as the Syndicate was pushed back toward Midway.”
Iceni pointed. “And here is Pele. One of the reasons the enigmas were held back for a while is that the only human star system they could reach from their own space using jump drives was Midway.”
“Was?” The Taroan repeated the word with sudden tension in her voice.
“We have reliable indications that an enigma warship was detected jumping into Iwa recently.” Iceni swung her finger across the starscape to indicate that star. “And we have a warning from the Dancers, a warning whose meaning we could not understand until a short time ago. Watch the different stars, they told us. Captain Bradamont has informed us of techniques Black Jack knew to get slightly better range out of Alliance jump drives. It appears the enigmas have now done even Black Jack one better.”
“If they can reach Iwa . . .” The woman from Taroa put one hand to her forehead, looking shaken.
“They may soon be able to directly reach Taroa,” Iceni finished. “And Ulindi.”
The man from Kahiki didn’t look happy. “Syndicate reports had little information about what happened in star systems taken by the enigmas. You have passed us reports from Black Jack that his fleet found all traces of human presence had been eliminated in those star systems. Do you believe those reports?”
“We have no reason to doubt them,” Drakon said. “Captain Bradamont herself witnessed what was in those star systems, and the information is consistent with what little the Syndicate was ever able to learn.”
“What about the humans who were prisoners of the enigmas? Can’t they tell us anything?”
The woman from Taroa, still rattled, shook her head. “Some of those people were citizens of Taroa. I’ve talked to them. They were kept inside a hollowed-out asteroid. They never saw an enigma, never talked to one, never saw anything. They didn’t even know who or what had taken them prisoner.”
“But if this is true,” the young man from Ulindi said, “then we need you more than ever. Ulindi can’t defend itself. Only Midway, or the Syndicate, has forces capable of stopping the enigmas, and after the massacre carried out by the snakes no one on Ulindi would accept the Syndicate even if it was our only hope. What can we give you?”
“That varies by star system,” Iceni said. Having seen how her news had frightened the others, she was now doing her best to sound calm and confident, the leader who could protect them. “Kane has valuable resources but must devote what people and industry are left to rebuilding. Kahiki can give us the hope for new weapons and other technology to employ against the enigmas. From Taroa and Ulindi, what Midway needs most is three things. We hope that Kane and Kahiki will also commit to these things in principle.”
They tensed again. This was the part of the conversation where Syndicate CEOs would be laying out an offer-that-you-had-better-not-refuse, one that would profit the CEOs and injure the victims.
“Firstly,” Iceni said, “agreements to work together, to share what information we have, to allow mobile forces to transit each other’s star systems, and to establish a unified command when any of the other star systems acquire operational warships.”
“Unified under Midway?” the woman from Taroa asked.
“Yes,” Iceni said. “We are the senior partner in the defense of this region of space, and we have officers in command of our warships who have proven their skill and their dedication.” No one said anything else, so she continued. “Secondly, to commit to devoting some of your resources to the common defense. We don’t know how many more former Syndicate warships we can acquire. I assure you that we have agents spreading the word through Syndicate-controlled space that Midway offers freedom to any crew who brings their warships to us.” She paused. “Assuming some more warships show up, we will proportionally share them
with other star systems. We need you to have the means for your own defense.”
“You’d be acting out of self-interest, then,” the young man from Ulindi said. That they could all understand. “But we can’t help you unless we have the means.”
“Exactly. Which brings up the third item.” Iceni could see the others brace themselves for the bad news they expected. “Money. Midway is fortunate to have the income from the hypernet gate, but we are not wealthy. The larger our forces grow, the harder it is to pay for them. We would like commitments from you to not only pay for your own defense but to contribute a reasonable sum to our own forces.”
“How much is reasonable?” the Taroan asked.
“What can be spared,” Iceni said. “And not all of that. You need to have enough to rebuild your economies and to expand. We don’t want weak client star systems. We want you all to become strong enough to be partners. Economic partners as well as partners in defense.”
Their skepticism was easy to see. Drakon answered the unspoken question. “We’ve all experienced Syndicate practices, where they milk the cow until it’s dead, feast on the carcass, then go looking for another cow. You, and me, all of us, have been in the position of that cow. Now that President Iceni and I have the ability to do things the way we want to do them, we’re trying to avoid repeating the mistakes of the Syndicate.”
“You want us to be fat cows,” the Taroan said.
“That’s right,” Iceni said. “We’re trying to think long-term, despite the very short-term worries about whether any of us will survive for the long term.”
“On behalf of the provisional government of Kane,” that woman vowed, “I commit us to this. Midway helped us when we had been nearly crushed by Syndicate bombardment. They helped us and asked for nothing in return.” She looked a challenge at the representatives of Taroa, Ulindi, and Kahiki. “Because of the damage we have sustained, we will be the least in this . . . this association of star systems. But we will rebuild, and we will be strong, and we will stand with Midway.”
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