The Lost Stars 01-Tarnished Knight

by Jack Campbell

  “She cut it fine enough,” Morgan grumbled.

  Turning to Malin, Drakon gave him a questioning look. “Did you get a prayer off, Colonel Malin?” Malin nodded. “Whatever you asked for, something seems to have listened.”

  Malin showed the ghost of a smile. “I asked that you receive what you deserved, General.”

  Drakon paused in surprise, then laughed again. “I guess nothing listened to you after all. If I’d gotten what I deserved, I’d have died storming Gathos’s flagship. You two can stop worrying about setting up that suicide mission and get back to working on preparations for the Taroa operation.”

  * * *

  PRESIDENT Iceni watched him warily from across the table. She looked tired, having taken a heavy cruiser at high speed back to the planet while the rest of her flotilla stayed with the battleship, but her eyes also held a spark of elation. “Neutral ground. Totally secure. No assistants or aides. What is it that you want to talk about? I’ve already heard that you were unhappy about an execution that I ordered.”

  Drakon nodded. “Yes. The execution is a minor issue, but I don’t want it to be forgotten. I didn’t like being surprised to hear that someone had been shot on your orders.”

  “CEO’s prerogative,” Iceni replied.

  “You’re not the only one running things here. I want to have a say in something like that. I want to know what someone has done, and I want a chance to evaluate the circumstances.”

  Iceni tilted her head slightly as she watched him, tapping one fingernail against the table. “You think that I silenced someone?”

  “It’s possible. You know what they say. Dead lawyers tell no tales.”

  “No lawyers were involved in this matter.” She paused, eyes hooded in thought. “But you think it might have been something like that.”

  “How do I know otherwise?”

  “A reasonable question.” Iceni smiled at him, the expression holding no real feeling. “I will agree to inform you in advance of any more executions, as long as that agreement binds both of us. You also don’t order any executions without telling me in advance of their being carried out.”

  He had expected an offer like that. He had also expected her to offer something that seemed like more than it was. Iceni’s proposal left a huge loophole because executions weren’t the same as assassinations or neutralizations. Neither of them would be agreeing not to eliminate anyone by purely extralegal means. But that was all right. He was on record with her about his concerns, and she knew that he would be watching for any signs that she was silencing people who knew the wrong things. “Fine.”

  Iceni’s false smile had vanished. “I’m going to be candid with you, General. I’ve been considering a number of issues about how punishment and other legal matters are dealt with.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Ensuring that trials really do try to determine guilt and innocence. Ensuring that only those truly guilty are punished.”

  “Are you joking?” Drakon eyed her for any signs of twisted humor, or perhaps insanity.

  “No. I’m very serious. Needless to say, I will not do anything that imperils you and me, or that would create instability among the citizens.”

  “Fine,” Drakon repeated. “I don’t have any objections to looking at that kind of thing, as long as we’re in agreement on whatever’s done, and as long as you and I are looked after in any changes. All right. That was a minor issue. Let’s talk about why I wanted this meeting. Taroa.”

  “Taroa? Has one of the factions there prevailed?”

  “No. Not yet.” Drakon called up a large display, pointing to a representation of the Taroa Star System. “But we’ve run everything we know or can reasonably well guess through simulations, and every simulation says the Syndicate loyalists will win. The only variation is how long it will take.”

  Iceni frowned as she eyed the display. “Simulations are not reality. They can be extremely flawed.”

  “I agree. But I looked at the data myself, and my gut tells me they’re right this time. The loyalists have too many resources, including control of the main orbital docks.”

  Iceni tapped some controls, zooming in on the primary inhabited world at Taroa. “What happened to the light cruiser that was hanging around there?”

  “According to the last we heard, it left.”

  “Going back to Prime to report to the central government?”

  “No. Going home.” Drakon gestured vaguely. “Lindanen Star System.”

  “That’s not close, but it’s not all the way across Syndicate space, either.” Her eyes went to the display again. “Have you thought about what it’s like right now, General? All those star systems where Syndicate rule has ended or is shaky, all the mobile forces deciding whether to stay or go home. The ground forces, too, I suppose. They have the means to force someone to send them where they want to go. Everywhere out there, the broken remnants of the Syndicate Worlds’ military are making their way to wherever they hope to find safety and survival.”

  “Or putting down roots where they are. It’s strange to think about,” Drakon agreed. “And worrisome. Those broken pieces of the Syndicate military could end up in the hands of someone who wants to use them to build a new empire.”

  “Someone like us?” she asked.

  “Could be. But I gather that’s not what you want to do.”

  “We haven’t got the strength to build an empire,” Iceni said. “Just defending this star system is going to be a full-time job.”

  “Even with the battleship?” Drakon asked, waiting to see if she would tell the truth about the status of that unit.

  Another pause as she watched him. “You’ve probably already heard about the state of the battleship. It’s potentially a huge asset for us. But most of its systems are still not operational, and it has far too few crew members to operate those systems even if they were working.”

  She had told the truth. That was heartening even if it was driven by the recognition that Drakon’s own sources would have learned the truth sooner or later. “How long until the systems are all up and running?”

  “With what we have at Midway to work at it? Five to six months. And getting enough crew will take at least that long. Midway isn’t the most heavily populated of star systems.” Iceni turned her head slightly to smile at him in sudden understanding. “Taroa.”

  “Yeah. A place with better ship outfitting yards than we have, stuff we can bring here, and a lot more trained workers who could be enticed to join the crew. You and I both know that we can’t afford to wait five or six months for that battleship to be ready to fight. We have to get it ready faster, and the means to do that are at Taroa.”

  “Do you want an empire, General Drakon?”

  “No.” Drakon pointed to the representation of Taroa. “There are three factions fighting for control of Taroa. The Syndicate loyalists including the snakes, some group that sounds like those worker committees you ran into at Kane, and some bunch calling themselves the Free Democratic Star System of Taroa. None are that strong because Taroa doesn’t have a hypernet gate. Maybe a third of the Syndicate soldiers went with the Free Taroans, but the rest, and all of the snakes, are in the loyalist camp. Local soldiers mostly went with the Free Taroans though some joined the workers. Our latest information, which is about two weeks old now, confirms that the worker faction is weakening. We got an unconfirmed report that the loyalists put out feelers to the rebel Free Taroans to unify against the workers, but the rebels were smart enough to know they’d be next once the workers were crushed. That just delays the outcome, though. Even if the Syndicate loyalists don’t get reinforcements or other support, and they’re the only faction with any right to expect that, they’ll still win as the workers and the Free Taroans run low on weapons and ammo.”

  “Leaving one of the nearest s
tar systems controlled by the Syndicate government,” Iceni said. “That would not be to our advantage.”

  “No,” Drakon agreed. “And the workers are unlikely to be much better from our point of view though they’ve got practically no chance of winning. That leaves the Free Taroans.”

  “Yes. But it sounds like they want elections for every office. Living with that next door might be very difficult. Working with that might be very difficult.”

  “Maybe. It might also give you and me a test population, a place to see what happens when the citizens rule themselves. I think what we need to focus on is that the Free Taroans are better than the alternatives.”

  “True,” Iceni conceded. “Still, elections at those kinds of levels . . .”

  Drakon settled back and smiled. “Elections? We’re old hands at elections, aren’t we, Madam President? You know what they can be like. Fraud, bribery, vote manipulation . . .”

  Iceni returned his smile. “All of which we are veterans at.”

  “And all of which, my assessments agree, those pure-minded Free Taroans will convince themselves could never happen in whatever system of elections they come up with.”

  “Meaning we will have substantial influence on the Free Taroans?”

  “Bought and paid for,” Drakon agreed. “It’s the Syndicate Way, isn’t it?”

  “As much as I detest many things about the Syndicate Way, those particular methods may prove very useful. So, not a conquest?

  “Absolutely not. An intervention, tipping the scales, not a conquest. If we try to impose our will on Taroa with what we have, it’ll turn into a quagmire that’ll suck this star system dry in no time. We’d be easy meat for the Syndicate Worlds when they came knocking at the hypernet gate demanding to be in control here again. For personal reasons, I’d rather that not happen.”

  “I’m sure I wouldn’t enjoy that outcome, either.” Iceni sat back, her eyes hooded in thought. “I believe that I planted some seeds at Kane for what might grow into a formal relationship between our star systems. If we could achieve similar results at Taroa, establish the grounds for creating an alliance of sorts, it could reap very important longer-term benefits. Trade, defense, a bubble of stability and order amid the collapse of the Syndicate Worlds. Three star systems isn’t much, but it would be a start toward that, and it’s a lot more than one star system.”

  Drakon nodded. “Humanity only started with one, and look where we’ve ended up.”

  “I don’t aspire to that degree of success. However, intervening at Taroa will require a significant investment in ground forces and mobile forces. We need those assets here.”

  “We do. We also needed them here when we heard about the battleship at Kane, but it made more sense to send just about every warship to Kane. Now it makes more sense to send some of those warships to Taroa.” He could see that Iceni was convinced yet still reluctant to commit the necessary forces, so Drakon played his last card. “There’s something else concerning Taroa’s shipyards. The last few ships that went through there reported that the main construction dock is completely concealed. They’re at the stage where components of something are being assembled into a hull.”

  “Something?” Iceni murmured. “Something big if they need to use the main construction dock.”

  “Something big,” Drakon agreed. “And I think we could use that something big more than whoever it’s being built for right now. Which would be the Syndicate government on Prime. If we get the docks, we get that hull.”

  “We get the docks? That could be exceptionally useful.” Iceni nodded and gave him a searching look. “What would you require to gain control of those docks and ensure victory for the Free Taroans?”

  “I’d want to bring three brigades,” Drakon said. “That will require requisitioning some of the civilian merchant ships here. And a decent-sized flotilla of warships to deal with any light mobile forces that might show up there to give us trouble. If there are no mobile forces waiting at Taroa, what we have with us will help overawe the opposition.”

  “If you want to overawe, the battleship is the way to go, but it’s not even close to ready.”

  “I wouldn’t want to come in with the battleship,” Drakon said. “It’s too big, too threatening. Showing up like that would make it look like a conquest before we said a word. I want to have time to explain that we’re there to assist our, uh, friends, the Free Taroans.”

  Iceni nodded again. “In exchange for control of those docks and what is being built there. All right. Three brigades. All of your soldiers, leaving me with the local troops.”

  “The locals could handle anything that came up,” Drakon said, choosing his words carefully. “But what I intended was to bring two of my brigades and one of the local brigades. That would leave one brigade of absolutely reliable soldiers here.”

  “Absolutely reliable?” Iceni asked, smiling thinly. “Just in case someone tried something while you were out of this star system?”

  He hadn’t wanted to put it that bluntly. “If you want to think of that brigade as my insurance against you, then fine. You decided to leave that heavy cruiser here to watch me while you were gone. But that’s far from the only reason to leave that brigade here. You know as well as I do that the locals aren’t one hundred percent to be counted on.”

  “But you want to take a brigade of them on this mission?”

  Was she subtly taunting him? Or probing for his justifications? Drakon made an open-handed gesture. “My own soldiers can stiffen the locals if necessary, and the locals should be able to handle anything we find at Taroa.”

  “So we’ll both feel safer if you leave one of your brigades here?”

  “That’s right.”

  “How thoughtful of you, General.” Iceni rested her chin on one fist as she regarded him. “Which brigade? Which colonel?”

  “Colonel Rogero’s brigade.”

  “Colonel Rogero? Again? Is Colonel Rogero particularly fond of me?”

  Drakon laughed briefly. “I don’t know his personal feelings about you. I do know he can be trusted here.” Gaiene, for all his skills and loyalty, if left alone for an extended period was likely to be shot by an enraged husband or furious father, and Gaiene might well be drunk when the bullet hit if he wasn’t worried about Drakon showing up to check on him. Kai wouldn’t run out of control, in fact seemed to have no vices at all or any other interests outside of his job, but was too rigid, not flexible enough to react quickly if something unexpected occurred and Drakon wasn’t around to give new instructions. “Colonel Rogero also got to lead the force that went to Kane with you. Colonels Gaiene and Kai deserve a chance at action, too.”

  “And which local brigade?”

  “The One Thousand Fifteenth. Colonel Senski’s command.”

  “Colonel Senski. Hmmm.” She didn’t seem convinced, but Iceni finally nodded a final time. “You will also be taking your two aides?”

  “Colonels Malin and Morgan? Yes.”

  “Then I agree to your proposal. How long will it take before you are ready to go?”

  “Normally,” Drakon began, “it takes a while to set up a movement of this size, but—”

  “But you started preparing well before I got back, anticipating that I would agree to the mission,” Iceni finished. She said it not as if guessing, but as if she had known that coming into the meeting.

  Either Iceni was trying to rattle him by pretending to know good intelligence, or she really had some very good inside information on Drakon’s troops. The best reaction at the moment was probably no particular reaction. He smiled at her as if her foreknowledge was not an issue at all. “That’s correct.”

  Iceni smiled back. “I’ll consult with Kommodor Marphissa on the size of the flotilla to accompany you. We will have to resupply those warships, and that will take a while. I’d esti
mate at least a week for them to get back here and prepare to go out again. I won’t mislead you as to my intentions. I will want to hold back enough warships to protect this star system and my battleship while it’s being fitted out, but I’m sure whatever we send with you will include at least one heavy cruiser.”

  Drakon gave her an inquiring look. “Your battleship?”

  “Did I say that? Our battleship, of course.”

  “And I understand it has a name now.” Why not flaunt his own information gathering?

  “The Midway. Yes.”

  He had expected her to take the obvious course and name it after herself, which would have been a clear sign of ambition and ego. The fact that she had chosen something else reassured Drakon considerably. “Are you going to name the other warships, too?”

  Iceni smiled again. “I already have. The implementing order is going out today. The heavy cruisers will be the Manticore, the Gryphon, the Basilisk, and the Kraken. The light cruisers will be named Falcon, Osprey, Hawk, Harrier, Kite, and Eagle. The Hunter-Killers will be Sentry, Sentinel, Scout, Defender, Guardian, Pathfinder, Protector, Patrol, Guide, Vanguard, Picket, and Watch.”

  “Really? Those are pretty good.”

  “I’m glad that I surprised you in that respect, General. Obviously, I cannot accompany you on this mission, so command of the mobile forces will be given to Kommodor Marphissa.”

  Drakon nodded. “I’ve heard that she’s capable.”

  “She is. She also has an unfortunate tendency to speak her mind. I hope that you can work with that.”

  “I’ve got some experience with subordinates like that,” Drakon said dryly, thinking of Malin and Morgan. “They can be the best kind of subordinates if they know what they’re talking about, and if you’re lucky.”

  Iceni gave him a surprised look. “Yes, General. They can indeed.” She paused for a long moment before speaking again. “Will you tell me something?”