“Why the hell would he want to do that?” Morgan demanded. “Why let ‘the people’ believe for one second that they have any right to pass judgment on whether or not General Drakon is in charge?”
Malin pointed upward. “We don’t exist in isolation. There are other powers. We have to worry about them.”
Drakon stared at Malin, as did Morgan. She laughed. “Are you invoking fear of ghosts to back up your arguments now? You’ve been around the workers too long.”
“You could read my statement that way, but you could also take it to mean such things as the Syndicate Worlds,” Malin said coldly. “They haven’t disappeared. We have a pathetically small flotilla to defend ourselves until President Iceni returns. If she has not lost any of the units she took with her, but hasn’t gained a battleship, our flotilla will only be pitifully small. With the battleship, it will still be small. And as we all know, the Syndicate Worlds will not attack only with mobile forces and ground forces. They will try to soften us up by any means, create civil unrest, undermine our strength by sabotage, and use every other trick in the Syndicate book to make us an easier target for reconquest. We know this from the inside. We have played this game ourselves. Mobile forces are not our first line of defense. Nor are ground forces. We need the citizens to believe that this is their star system, that General Drakon and President Iceni are their leaders, that we are the best means to ensure their safety against external forces. And then the citizens will ensure that when our forces defend this star system, they have a firm backing behind them.”
“You ensure a firm back by having a firm spine,” Morgan said.
“Is there anything else?” Drakon said in a voice that instantly silenced the debate. He didn’t feel like going over this again, not when his mind was puzzling over what Black Jack was up to and worried about what might have happened to Iceni.
Malin took a deep breath. “There is one other item I wished to discuss with you, sir. Taroa Star System.”
This time, Morgan rolled her eyes. “Are you going to advise General Drakon to go there and tell everyone at Taroa that they should all just get along?”
“No, I’m going to advise General Drakon to go there with troops and intervene in the fighting.”
Morgan let surprise show for a moment, then grinned. “I want to hear this.”
* * *
SHE hadn’t slept well for days, and the last several hours had been particularly bad. Iceni finally erupted from her stateroom on the heavy cruiser, crew members scrambling to stay out of her way, and stormed up to the bridge. “Why the hell isn’t that battleship ready to move?”
Kommodor Marphissa gulped nervously before she answered. “The engineers and system specialists say one more hour, Madam President.”
“That’s what they said an hour ago!”
“Madam President.”
She spun to see that Sub-Executive Kontos had just entered the bridge as well.
“I was coming to report to you, Madam President,” Kontos said. Though still thin, after rest, food, and water, he no longer wavered as he stood, not even when faced by a CEO on the rampage. “One more hour and no more. I personally guarantee it.”
The already-hushed bridge seemed to grow deathly quiet. Under the Syndicate system, announcements of personal responsibility could presage rewards, but more often foretold serious punishment.
Iceni eyed Kontos. “Are you aware of what happened to the last person who failed to carry out their work as they had promised me, Sub-Executive Kontos?”
“I need not concern myself with that, Madam President. There will be no failure. Battleship B-78 will be ready for movement under its own power in one hour.”
His calm and confidence penetrated even her anger. Either Kontos was very brave and very capable, or he was a total idiot incapable of understanding the fate his own words were creating. “One hour, Sub-Executive Kontos. Or you may find yourself outside without a survival suit trying to push the battleship to the jump point.”
“I understand, Madam President.” Kontos saluted and left.
Her frustration snuffed out by Kontos’s performance, Iceni turned to Marphissa, who was still staring at where Sub-Executive Kontos had stood. “The boy is insane,” Marphissa said.
“Would you want him to be one of your officers, Kommodor?” Iceni asked.
“Absolutely. He would be an incredible asset. If I didn’t have to kill him.”
“Then I’ll let you in on something I just decided. If that battleship is under way in one hour or less, Kontos will be your second-in-command when you assume command of the Midway.”
Marphissa’s shocked gaze switched to Iceni. “Second-in-command? That’s a sub-CEO or senior executive position.”
“He’ll have earned it, don’t you think?”
A pause, then the Kommodor nodded. “Yes. Yes, I do.”
* * *
FORTY-SEVEN minutes after Kontos had spoken to her, he called Iceni again. “Battleship B-78 is ready to move at your command, Madam President.”
Marphissa, scanning her readouts on the readiness of the battleship, nodded with an amazed look.
Iceni settled back in her seat, looking around the bridge of the heavy cruiser. It felt far less occupied even though every specialist station was in use. With so much of the crew temporarily assigned to working on the battleship, the heavy cruiser had a strange sensation of emptiness. “Ready all units to proceed to the jump point for Midway, Kommodor.”
The heavy cruisers mated to the battleship had been loosed, and the light cruisers and HuKs brought in closer to escort the massive warship. They were finally preparing to get back to Midway, hopefully to depart Kane before any strong Syndicate Worlds force showed up at Kane, and hopefully to arrive back at Midway before any Syndicate Worlds attack showed up there. The propulsion problem with heavy cruiser C-818 had been a blessing in disguise. She hadn’t needed C-818, and its presence back at Midway offered some protection for the star system until she got back.
Far off, the three snake-controlled warships had jumped for Kukai hours ago. Since then, the detached portion of Iceni’s forces that had been shadowing them had turned to rejoin the others. “Tell the subflotilla to alter course to rejoin us just prior to the jump point for Midway,” Iceni told Marphissa.
The merchant ship, with its new cargo of evacuees from the mobile forces facility, still had a way to go before it made it back to the second planet; but the light cruiser bound for its crew’s home had remained with it, ensuring that Senior Ship’s Controller Hafely didn’t try to cut his losses by jettisoning evacuees.
Where the mobile forces facility had been there was now scattered junk, most of the debris having been knocked out of orbit, but some spiraling down into the greedy maw of the gas giant to vanish amid the multicolored clouds.
On the second planet itself, crowds could be seen in the streets, but too little in the way of comms could be picked up from the location of Iceni’s ships to know who was doing what to whom now that the snakes had run for their lives. Did the fires that could be seen in the streets mark celebration, or rioting, or fighting, or all of the above?
“All units,” Marphissa ordered, “come port four three degrees, down zero one degrees, accelerate to point zero three light speed, maintaining station on B-78, execute now.”
They were actually moving again. Iceni realized that she was smiling even though the shape of the gas giant receded with painful slowness beneath them. Only part of the battleship’s main propulsion units were working, enough to get it moving, but it would accelerate even more sluggishly than usual for a battleship, and getting it up to point zero three light speed would take a while. It would also take a while to get to the jump point at that velocity, but at least they were on their way. Feeling happy indeed, Iceni called the battleship. “Sub-Executive Kontos, do you want t
o take service in the mobile forces of the Midway Star System?”
Kontos grinned. “Yes, Madam President.”
“Then you are promoted to Kapitan-Leytenant, effective immediately, and appointed second-in-command of battleship B-78. Congratulations.”
The next call was to Colonel Rogero. “Are your soldiers enjoying the accommodations aboard B-78, Colonel?”
“Yes, Madam President.” Rogero wasn’t wearing his combat armor, of course, but he still somehow carried the aura of being ready for anything. Iceni found it a dangerously pleasant sensation. “Though in truth there’s so much space, and so few crew,” Rogero added. “It’s a little spooky.”
“Is everything in place?”
“We are ready for anything,” Rogero affirmed.
That was a code phrase, meaning that, if necessary, Rogero’s soldiers would turn on the crew and ensure that the battleship reached Midway. It was ironic, considering her own doubts about Rogero, but she had to count on him to ensure that Kontos or some other members of the battleship’s crew didn’t decide they wanted some other destination.
In truth, some of the delay in the battleship’s being ready had been her own fault. Some of the technicians had covertly installed overrides where overrides were strictly prohibited by Syndicate regulations. Only someone able to get inside the three citadels could have installed the overrides. But now, if anyone chose to try to hole up in those citadels again, Iceni could activate the overrides and quickly gain access to the inside of the three citadels.
Naturally, there was always the chance that the technicians would talk, despite the certainty of what Iceni would do to them if they told anyone. But between fear and the rewards promised for their discretion, the technicians would almost certainly stay quiet. Iceni had long ago learned that, like threats, promises of rewards were best kept. She had once worked for a man who thought the opposite and routinely stiffed his subordinates and workers on things he had pledged for them. Business as usual, until the night an assassin came for that boss, and his guards, employees who had also had promised rewards yanked from them, looked the other way.
She took care of those who worked for her. That was simple self-interest. But even workers who had been treated well could decide to betray those they worked for. Thanks to the heroics of Kontos and the other surviving members of the outfitting crew, she had gained control of this battleship. No one, no matter how heroic, would take that control away from her.
But it was still a long way to the jump point at point zero three light speed.
* * *
“SOMETHING is happening at Lono,” Colonel Malin reported.
“Dangerous something?” Drakon asked.
“It could be. A merchant ship that came from there said it saw three heavy cruisers and a number of smaller escorts.”
Lono. Only one jump away, with enough firepower mustering there to blow away the single heavy cruiser that Iceni had left at Midway. “Did you find out anything about the HuK that President Iceni sent to Lono?”
“Yes, sir. According to what the merchant ship heard, sometime ago a HuK appeared at the jump point from Midway, took off across the Lono Star System without pausing, and jumped for Milu.”
So much for that HuK. Someone had decided to go home or take other independent action. “What can we get to Lono to confirm what that merchant reported about a flotilla?”
“All we could do is requisition another merchant ship, General.”
Something slow. “We need scouts out, Colonel Malin. How can we get scouts watching the nearest star systems for trouble?”
“It’s a mobile forces issue, General,” Malin said.
“And we’re damned short of mobile forces.”
Malin stiffened as his comm alert sounded and he checked his reader. “A HuK has arrived at the jump point from Kane. There’s a message coming in from it. It’s eyes only for you.”
“Route it to me.” Drakon waited impatiently until the message popped up on his queue, then tagged it.
Iceni smiled triumphantly at him. “I am happy to report that I have defeated a snake-controlled flotilla at Kane and gained control of the battleship being outfitted here. As soon as the battleship is ready to move, we will proceed back to Midway.” Attached to the message were some files listing detailed events.
Drakon scanned the files quickly. “President Iceni hasn’t lost any units. She actually picked up a few more. Plus the battleship.”
“How long until she gets back?” Malin asked.
“She didn’t say. Call that HuK and tell it to divert to the jump point for Lono. The HuK is to pop in, look around Lono, then head back here.” The Syndicate flotilla at Lono might already be on the way to Midway, in which case it would arrive before the HuK even got to Lono to find it empty of threat. That couldn’t be helped. “How much chance do you think that heavy cruiser we’ve got, C-818, would have against a flotilla with three heavy cruisers in it?”
Malin shook his head. “From what I have been able to learn of C-818’s commanding officer, she would probably run rather than fight.”
“And I can’t replace her because of my deal with President Iceni. But C-818’s commander could have an accident and need to be replaced. Morgan would take care of that.”
“Sir, I advise against that action. C-818’s commander is remaining on her unit in orbit. She is wise enough to know that is the safest course of action for her personally. As long as she is on that warship in orbit, reaching her will be hard to achieve, and deniability would be even harder to achieve if something happened to her.”
“Damn. Then all we can do is hope that whatever’s at Lono doesn’t get here before President Iceni gets back.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“THIS is Executive Level Two Fon, acting commanding officer of CL-187, for President Iceni.”
Iceni rested her head on one hand as she watched the message. Light cruiser CL-187 was about four and a half light-hours distant and nearing the second planet, so this wasn’t exactly timely news, but it was also the most recent information she had received from that part of Kane Star System. Her own flotilla, crawling along in company with the battleship, was itself still nearly thirty light-minutes, or sixteen hours’ travel time at its current velocity, from the jump point for Midway.
“We will arrive at the second planet in company with the freighter carrying refugees from the mobile forces facility in three hours,” Executive Fon continued. “It has been my pleasure to carry out your wishes, President Iceni, and to assist in ensuring the safety of the refugees.”
Executive Fon was groveling like a real executive, Iceni thought, something any snake in disguise would have trouble counterfeiting.
“We have been speaking with our people on the second planet,” Fon said. “They tell us there has been much celebrating and a few demonstrations over the form of the new government, but no fighting. We anticipate no problems recovering our people from the planet before we head for Cadez.”
That was good news. She was tired of watching people kill each other as the iron discipline of the Syndicate system disintegrated. A little break from that violence would be welcome, and perhaps the lack of violence would help restrain the more radical workers from gaining control.
“Once we have completed our escort mission and retrieved our people, CL-187 will return home to Cadez. The use of the hypernet gate at Midway would make this journey much quicker, easier, and less hazardous for us. We hope, in light of the service that we have rendered, that you will permit us the use of the hypernet gate when we arrive at Midway.”
Well, of course. They had wanted something from her. No wonder Fon and his light cruiser had done as Iceni had asked. The collapse of the Syndicate Worlds hadn’t altered the way people handled business like that.
“When we arrive at Midway, we will be happy to
provide you with an update on the latest information we have from Kane,” Fon added. “For the people, Fon, out.”
Very good. He was smart enough to also dangle that offer as a gesture of goodwill. It would cost the light cruiser nothing to provide Iceni with that valuable update, but they hoped her gratitude would ensure the use of the hypernet gate unhindered.
Iceni straightened herself, checked her appearance, then hit the reply command. “Executive Fon, you and your unit will be welcome at the Midway Star System. I will look forward to hearing the latest information about Kane from you at that time. I anticipate no problems with your free access to the hypernet gate at Midway in light of your service to me and the citizens of Kane. For the people, Iceni, out.”
Nearly five hours before CL-187 got her message, and sixteen damnable hours before her flotilla could jump for Midway. Followed by six days in the gray purgatory of jump space. Though the seemingly endless creeping through normal space even to get to the jump must also qualify as a form of purgatory.
But at least this type of purgatory had an end. Iceni sat on the bridge for the last hour as her reunited flotilla approached the jump point. She was returning with a battleship, three heavy cruisers, six light cruisers, and nine Hunter-Killers. Still a small force by the standards of the recent war, but no longer one that could be brushed aside.
Once she got the battleship operational, that is. “You may jump the flotilla for Midway when you are ready, Kommodor Marphissa.”
The stars vanished again.
* * *
THREE days into their journey through jump space. Three days left to go. By the end of that time, the strangeness of jump space would have begun wearing on them. Iceni remembered the feeling all too well, the sensation that your own skin belonged to a stranger, that you were intruding somewhere not meant for humanity. When it came to that, it wasn’t like she wanted to stay in jump space any longer than she had to anyway.