“Yes.”
His eyes went back to the star display. “And it’s at Kane. How are they hiding a battleship at Kane? It’s not a heavily populated star system, but there are plenty of citizens there and merchant ships coming and going.”
“I asked myself that same question.” Iceni zoomed the display in on Kane, and soon enough that star system floated above the table, its planets visible. “The main mobile forces facility there is like the one here, out near one of the gas giants. See these large moons? If the battleship was positioned in the right place around the curve of the gas giant and relative to the two moons, it wouldn’t be visible from inhabited locations in the star system or from the normal shipping routes. You couldn’t find it unless someone went to the gas giant looking for it.”
Drakon nodded slowly, trying to put the concept within his own experience with ground operations. “Hide it where no one would think to look. Surely, someone in Kane knows about it.”
“The light cruiser commander believes that local authorities in Kane are playing along and keeping the battleship’s presence quiet in exchange for a promise that it will be used to defend them as well as Taroa.”
He pondered the news, out of habit running through the planning implications. “If that information is accurate, we can’t afford to take time to send a scouting mission. We need to get to the battleship before the weapons are active or the people fighting on Taroa send for it to tip the scales. That means going in blind.”
“I know.” Iceni ran one hand through her hair. “It could also be a trap, with mines set to hit anything coming out of the jump point at Kane. But I don’t see any alternative. The prize is just too big. We cannot afford to hesitate.”
Drakon eyed her. “So what’s the problem?”
“There are two.” Her eyes were on his again. “I’ll have to take almost every warship that we’ve got. I’ll leave one HuK as a courier to let me know if disaster strikes here while I’m gone. You’ll be practically defenseless if any other mobile forces show up. And I need to command this mission personally. I think I can trust Sub-CEO Marphissa, but the stakes are too high to risk that she might be tempted to make her own use of that battleship, and she has never commanded a flotilla in action.”
“You need to go personally.” So that was it. “Meaning, you leave me alone here in this star system.”
“Exactly.”
Drakon shrugged. “If you come back with a battleship, then it doesn’t matter what games I might have played in your absence. You’ll have the winning hand.”
“And if there’s no battleship there? Or if it has already got enough weapons active that I can’t take it and come back only with what I took, or even less if I lose some warships, then what?”
He leaned back, rubbing his lower face with one hand. “You’ll just have to trust me.”
Iceni exhaled heavily. “Let’s go over that last statement of yours again, General Drakon, so you can let me know if there’s any portion of it that would give you pause if I had said it to you.”
“That ‘trust’ word might give me some trouble.” Drakon spread his hands. “I can’t give you any hostages that you would think tied my hands. I could promise to not betray you, but what’s the promise of a CEO worth? Mine is actually good, which is why I rarely give it, but I know you have no reason to accept that. I have played straight with you.”
“As far as I know.”
“What’s the alternative, Madam President? We both sit here in this star system, holding guns on each other, until a big enough flotilla from Prime shows up to screw both of us? That’s assuming whoever wins at Taroa doesn’t decide it would be nice to control a hypernet gate and sends that battleship to take over here before the Syndicate Worlds government can get around to it.”
Iceni looked at her hands where they rested on the table’s surface, then back at him. “What do you want for this star system, General Drakon?”
There were many possible answers, most of which would be lies or misdirection. He looked back at her, deciding to answer with as close to the truth as he himself understood it. “Something better than I grew up with. Something worth dying for if it comes to that.”
“I know your record. There have been many times that you could have died for the Syndicate Worlds.”
“And that would have annoyed me. Seriously. Hell, I didn’t care about the Syndicate Worlds. I was trying to protect people I cared about even if they were dozens or hundreds of light-years distant. I didn’t have any choice.” Drakon made an angry and helpless gesture, remembering those years. “Now I do. I want to care about what I’m fighting for. I don’t know exactly what that is. Getting rid of the snakes and the rest of the Syndicate control was an immediate necessity, something I could plan and do, but after that . . . I’m still figuring that out.”
She watched him silently for so long that he wondered about saying something else. “I am afraid of you, General Drakon,” Iceni finally said. “I am afraid of what you might make me do. I don’t want to see this star system destroyed.”
“I don’t either.” Drakon tapped the table surface for emphasis as he spoke. “Do you think I’m stupid?”
“No.”
“Then, as long as there’s any chance of your coming back with a battleship under your control, why would I be dumb enough to try taking over in your absence? Let’s be totally pragmatic here. If I wanted to take over, the first thing I’d have to do is kill you. That way, I have a chance to get the mobile forces, the warships, on my side. Without them, my position is untenable.”
Iceni smiled. “You’ve obviously thought about how to get rid of me.”
“Are you trying to claim that you haven’t thought about what it would take to eliminate me as a rival? The point is, once you leave this star system, I can’t touch you. That means the best way for you to ensure that I don’t take over is to leave. It doesn’t make you vulnerable, it makes you invulnerable as far as I’m concerned.”
She stared at him, then laughed. “General, your logic cannot be faulted.”
“When do you leave? And do we let the citizens know?”
“As soon as possible, and . . . there are good arguments for telling them and good arguments for keeping them in the dark.” Iceni’s eyes were back on the star display. “If I can’t be found, too many people will conclude that General Drakon might have disposed of the competition. Once my flotilla jumps for Kane, I will have my own staff tell the citizens that I am leaving on a special mission to . . .”
“Try to bring peace to our neighbors?” Drakon asked mockingly.
“Oh, that’s good. Yes. A mission of mercy.”
“I wasn’t serious. What happens when you get back, and they learn that you were actually on a snatch-and-grab mission for a battleship?”
Iceni smiled at him again. “I’ll have a battleship. Why should I care how anyone feels?”
This time, Drakon didn’t return the smile. “Anyone? Including me? You’ll have a huge amount of firepower under your control.”
“Yes. You’ll just have to trust me.”
At least she didn’t use a derisive tone when she quoted him. “What are you going to use to capture it? Assault parties from the crews of the mobile forces?”
“What can you give me?” Iceni asked.
“A lot more than you can use. Can you bring up the current status on your mobile forces?” Drakon studied the information as it popped up on the display. “Very limited free berthing capacity, and you’ll only be able to haul three shuttles with you. I recommend providing you with three squads of special forces. That’s way too few to tackle the crew of a fully operational battleship, but if this one is still working with a skeleton crew it should be enough.”
“I will accept your recommendation,” Iceni said. “Who will command your special forces?”
/> “Normally a force that small would be commanded by a lieutenant or a captain at the most.” He saw her uncertainty at the new titles. “That would be subexecutive or junior-executive rank. But you need someone senior enough to be in control of a battleship, someone we have no doubt of in terms of loyalty and reliability, and the more experienced the better.”
Drakon paused to think again. Normally, he would be considering sending either Morgan or Malin, but Morgan was still acting too much like a loose cannon at the moment, and after Malin’s actions during the assault on the orbital facility Drakon didn’t feel comfortable having him out of sight for a while. “Colonel Rogero. He’s the best for this. Aggressive and capable, as reliable as they come, and his subordinates won’t have any problems handling his area of responsibility down here until he gets back.”
“Rogero?” Iceni questioned. “Reliable?”
She knew about the Alliance battle cruiser commander. Drakon had briefed Iceni on that when the message had come for Rogero while Black Jack’s fleet was here. “Absolutely.”
“What about your other senior commanders?”
“Kai is solid but can be slow. He prefers to plan things out, then go by the plan. You need someone who will move fast and be more agile. Gaiene is aggressive enough, too much so sometimes, but on his own he can get a little wild. You don’t need someone willing to take too many chances when you’ve only got three squads to play with. I’m also not comfortable with how well Gaiene’s subordinates are set up to operate without his oversight.”
Another long look at him, as if she were trying to read his mind, then Iceni nodded once. “All right. I need your soldiers and Colonel Rogero in orbit as soon as possible.”
Drakon did some quick estimating in his head. “Two hours.”
“Can you make it one?”
“No. Besides, a two-hour scramble I can pass off as being part of a training exercise. A one-hour panic party will arouse way too much attention.”
“Then I agree. Two hours. I will see you again when I return, General Drakon.”
* * *
EVEN though Iceni had decided that she had no alternative to going to Kane, the idea of trusting Drakon not to stab her in the back in her absence left her in an even worse mood than before as she hastily prepared to take a shuttle up to C-448. She would be risking her control of the star system and putting herself back at the mercy of the crews of the warships. They had sworn loyalty to her, but they had also made similar oaths to the Syndicate Worlds. Every CEO knew that inconvenient oaths were easily disposed of, but now those crews certainly knew it, too.
Those crews had also learned how easy it was to dispose of authority figures. The workers were becoming privy to the same rules that the higher levels had followed for generations, and that could not be a good thing for those in the higher levels.
Nor could she take any bodyguards along on an extended voyage on something as small as a heavy cruiser. There was no room for them, and the potential for a misunderstanding and violence in the cramped quarters of a warship too high.
Her imagination filled with an image of being shoved out of an air lock by laughing workers, Iceni jerked nervously when the door to her office announced a visitor. Togo. Him she shouldn’t have to fear, but the fact that she had overreacted didn’t help her disposition. Wonderful. She hadn’t even boarded a shuttle or left her own office yet and she was already unnerved.
“What is it?” Iceni snapped as Togo entered.
“You asked for whatever I could discover about Colonel Malin and Colonel Morgan,” Togo said, imperturbable in the face of her grumpiness. “I thought I should provide you with what I knew before you left. Forgive me if I was in error.”
“No. You aren’t mistaken. I’d like to know more about Drakon’s team before I leave this star system in their hands.” Iceni closed her eyes, calming herself, then looked at him. “Take a seat. What did you find?”
Togo sat down, not relaxing in the chair but keeping his back erect. He hadn’t lasted this long as personal assistant to a CEO by presuming on his acquaintance with those of high rank. Bringing out his reader, Togo cleared his throat, then began reciting his report. “Colonel Malin is the child of an unmarried officer in the medical service who was widowed four years before his birth when her husband died fighting the Alliance.”
“Frozen embryo or a fling?” Iceni asked.
“Apparently a fling. The identity of the father is unknown.”
There wasn’t anything unusual about that, not after so many years of war. So many husbands and wives had died, so many men and women had sought someone to help them bear heirs of their bodies, no questions asked.
“Bran Malin’s mother helped him get into the subexecutive ranks,” Togo continued. “She reached the rank of sub-CEO before retiring, but died several years ago as the result of long-term ailments contracted while working at a classified medical research facility. After a few assignments in a variety of support and frontline positions, Bran Malin asked to be assigned to the ground force commanded by Drakon. He is now twenty-eight years old and has served with Drakon for seven years, first commanding ground units directly and eventually becoming a close and trusted adviser to Drakon.” Togo lowered the reader. “That is all there is though I can recite his assignments prior to Drakon’s command. Your earlier assessment, that Malin is controlled and careful, is borne out by every source I could find. Since he is both controlled and careful, there is nothing in Malin’s record indicating that he has ever expressed any unhappiness with Syndicate rule.”
Iceni pondered that, then nodded. “And Morgan?”
“Her history is much more interesting.”
“Somehow, I thought that it would be.”
That earned Iceni a small smile from Togo before he resumed his usual unrevealing expression. “Roh Morgan’s parents died in action when she was very young, and she was raised in a succession of official-duty orphanages. She joined the ground forces as soon as legally old enough at seventeen and volunteered for the commando branch. Her training for that was cut short, and it took considerable digging to find out what happened after that.”
Iceni leaned forward, intrigued. “Some secret assignment?”
“Extremely secret, Madam President. So secret that the code name itself has apparently been wiped from the records. But I was able to piece together the concept with what remained in ISS files. It was an operation aimed at the enigma race.”
“The enigmas?” She hadn’t expected that. “Every operation the Syndicate Worlds has staged over the last century to try to learn more about the enigmas has been a total failure.”
“As was that involving Roh Morgan,” Togo confirmed. “I was able to determine that the plan involved the use of small, natural asteroids, which would be hollowed out to each hold a single commando frozen into survival sleep along with just enough equipment to maintain that state. The asteroids were launched from a ship outside an enigma-held star system, pushed inward toward the planets at velocities low enough to seem normal.”
“No wonder they put the commandos into survival sleep! At those velocities, it would be decades before the asteroids reached any planets.”
“Yes.” Togo paused, then shook his head. “When close enough to a planet, the commandos would be awakened, and were then expected to land and send out any information they could before being hunted down and killed by the enigmas.”
Iceni stared at him. “A suicide mission lasting for decades and no guarantee that it would actually accomplish anything. Morgan volunteered for that?”
“Yes,” Togo said again. “As you know, the Syndicate government was desperate for any information about the enigmas. For the first couple of decades, the enigmas gave no sign that they were aware of the operation, but when some of the asteroids began approaching the inner system, the enigmas started to target and d
estroy them, one by one. A decision was made to attempt a recovery of any surviving commandos, and two, including Morgan, were picked up by a special automated craft that, for some unknown reason, the enigmas did not destroy.”
“That’s odd,” Iceni said. “That the enigmas let two commandos be recovered, yes, but mostly that some CEO approved risking those kinds of resources to save the lives of two junior workers.”
Togo made an apologetic gesture. “The intent was not to save the workers. It was desired to recover their asteroids intact so they could be carefully examined for whatever might have betrayed their special characteristics to the enigmas. That Morgan and the other commando survived was simply a by-product of the recovery.”
“Oh. Naturally.” She didn’t bother asking whether the examination had found anything, because she knew it couldn’t have. The asteroids, like every other Syndicate Worlds’ action in connection with the enigmas, had failed because of quantum-level worms the aliens had successfully seeded into every Syndicate automated system. Thanks to those worms, the enigmas had always known exactly what the Syndicate Worlds was doing and could even spoof Syndicate sensors in invisible ways. The Syndicate Worlds had never found those worms, undetectable by normal computer-security means. No, it had been the Alliance that had done that. Black Jack, to be specific, then he had given the secret of finding and neutralizing those worms to the Syndicate Worlds. The embarrassment of that Syndicate failure had been the final blow for Iceni, the last straw that had led her to begin planning for revolt.
Togo tapped his reader. “There were some problems with the awakening of Morgan and the other surviving commando. While their period in survival sleep was roughly twenty years, that should not have been long enough to cause difficulties. I could find no details of what the problems were, just vague references. Some of those references led me to believe that there may have been some special mental conditioning of Morgan and the others before the mission.”
“Special mental conditioning?” That could mean many things, many of them very ugly.
The Lost Stars 01-Tarnished Knight Page 17