Before Kamara could reply, another transmission drew their attention.
“Bloody hell!” Colonel Gaiene roared.
Drakon hastily switched focus to Gaiene’s units, seeing a flurry of red markers intermingled with those of the soldiers with Gaiene. “Con, do you need me to send you the reserve?”
“Hell, no! They dropped us right onto the snake barracks for this valley instead of one street over! Lousy damned intelligence as usual!” Gaiene was firing as he spoke, pivoting to hit enemies popping up on all sides.
The snakes had managed to trigger local jammers. Between those and the disordered mass of soldiers and snakes mixed together, Drakon had trouble making out the situation as markers jumped, blinked out, and blinked back in again. “I’m sending in the reserve to you, Con.” He only had two platoons, but that might be enough. Unfortunately, those platoons would take a while to get there even if the shuttles moved their fastest.
“Don’t bother!” Gaiene retorted. “I’ve got plenty of ammo and plenty of soldiers. All we’re running short of is targets!”
Kamara stared as the red markers dissolved from the display like soap bubbles hitting a hot plate. “I thought he was just a drunken letch.”
“He’s that,” Drakon agreed, “but he’s also a hell of a good soldier in a fight.”
“Cut off everything!” Gaiene ordered his troops. “Sever any comm connection you find! We’ll worry about where they go later.”
Drakon looked at the situation in Gaiene’s valley and in the valley where Kai and Morgan were operating. The loyalists and snakes were being rolled up very rapidly. However, as comm connections were broken, the ability of the limpets to confuse and deceive snake command and control was also being knocked out. Malin. You’ve got very little time left before the snake commander figures out how bad things really are.
* * *
FROM a covered position across the street, Bran Malin studied the nondescript building that his stealth suit’s sensors told him was packed with defenses. He had seen armored figures moving within, flitting past windows almost too quickly to spot, and none had left despite the roar of battle as the main body of Colonel Senski’s brigade had landed all around the valley. Partly that was due to the limpets leaving the snakes uncertain as to what was happening, but with combat near enough to hear, it was odd that not even one scout had been sent out to check on things personally. That could only mean whoever was inside had given staying hidden the highest priority.
Extensive landlines with full security shielding had led to the structure from the crater where the original headquarters building had been. Malin had followed them, and now he evaluated the building. There were apartments in the upper stories, providing both deceptive camouflage from overhead observation as well as citizens going in and out by day and night to further mask the nature of the structure to anyone spying from above. That meant there were probably still citizens in those apartments even though none could be seen.
Call in another orbital strike and ensure the snakes could not order any doomsday strike with their dying gestures? Malin looked at the apartments, knowing he had mere seconds to decide.
You do what must be done. Sometimes, some must be sacrificed. The decision and the wrong are mine.
He called the cruiser, then faded back only a short distance in the brief time before three more projectiles tore through the atmosphere, through the building, and into what must have been reinforced bunkers beneath. Malin lay flat as pieces of all that had once been in that location fell to earth in the wake of the bombardment, trying to keep his mind centered not on those who had died but on the larger purpose he served.
A blinking alert told Malin that the limpets were no longer able to find any snake command nodes active. Walling away any sense of triumph behind the same barriers where regret lay, he sent the mission-accomplished report.
* * *
DRAKON felt tension bleed out of him as Malin’s mission-status marker switched to green. “All right. Let’s wrap this up,” he sent to his commanders.
“All done here,” Colonel Gaiene reported on a private line that only Drakon could hear rather than using the command net. “We ran out of snakes to kill. The citizens are all being extremely well behaved. But we had about a company’s worth of the loyalists surrender. They belonged to various units, but all of those units are on the Free Taroans kill-not-capture list.”
Drakon glanced at Sub-CEO Kamara, who was busy talking to some of her own commanders about moving into the valleys that Drakon’s soldiers had captured. “I suppose,” Drakon said, “that all those who surrendered say some other guys committed any atrocities?”
“You suppose correctly. I could kill them all now,” Gaiene added offhandedly, “or turn them over to the Free Taroans, which would just mean they died a little later, or I have some empty shuttles waiting in case wounded need to be evacuated to the orbital docks. We do need every good soldier.”
“That would give us time to, uh, triage everyone,” Drakon agreed. “Get those ‘wounded’ up to the orbital docks, but make sure they don’t have weapons, and have a strong escort keeping an eye on them. Find out if they are really clean under full interrogation sensors, and we’ll deal with any who aren’t.”
“As you wish, General. I’m so glad we had this conversation.”
“I enjoyed it, too, Colonel Gaiene.”
Colonel Kai reported in next, sounding slightly peevish. “We have a holdup.” Through the remote video feeds, Drakon could see a large building, the exterior already battered, from which weapons fire erupted every time any of Kai’s soldiers showed themselves outside.
“Diehards forted up in a building full of citizens,” Kai added, as if annoyed at the citizens for getting themselves into that situation. He probably was annoyed at them. Kai disliked anything that complicated the smooth completion of operations. “At least platoon strength, with heavy weapons. I can destroy the building easily enough, but you told us to avoid killing citizens.” This time, Kai sounded accusatory because Drakon’s instructions were preventing the simplest solution to the problem.
Sub-CEO Kamara had a stern expression. “He should get those loyalist diehards.”
Drakon raised an eyebrow at her. “Even if he kills all the citizens in that building? It’s pretty big. You’re probably talking hundreds.”
“We’re willing to pay that price.”
“That’s noble of you,” Drakon remarked with heavy sarcasm. “You’re willing to let them die. I know you’ve been fighting a civil war here, but you’d better start thinking of those citizens as your citizens. Do you want your citizens to die, Sub-CEO?”
Kamara scowled. “They’ve got a building full of hostages. What else do you suggest?”
“That Colonel Kai promise them that if they leave the building, none of Kai’s soldiers will fire upon them.”
“You can’t be serious! Do you know what the unit those soldiers belong to has done? We can’t let them go.”
Drakon’s smile held no humor. “Did I say that? I agree that we can’t reward anyone for taking hostages, especially people who’ve committed the sort of atrocities you’ve shown us records of. It won’t be my fault if those loyalists don’t read the fine print on any promises made to them. “
* * *
“I cannot yet confirm that CEO Ukula is dead,” Malin called in. “But all indications are that he, his personal guard, and his command staff died when we destroyed the alternate headquarters location. It will take time to sort out and identify DNA fragments amid the wreckage, though.”
“Understood,” Drakon said. “Nice job locating that secondary command location. The holdup had us worried. Did you run into any problems taking out the alternate headquarters?”
Malin’s expression revealed nothing as he shook his head. “Nothing you need concern yourself abo
ut, General. I took care of it. Colonel Senski has informed me that her brigade is mopping up a few small pockets of resistance, but otherwise, this valley is yours, General.”
“Thanks, I’ve always wanted one.”
* * *
AFTER a series of back-and-forth negotiations with Colonel Kai, the loyalists came out of the building.
“They’ve got citizens around them as shields,” Kai remarked disdainfully. “Even though I promised them my soldiers would not fire.”
“You’d think they didn’t trust us,” Morgan replied. “Ready when you are, General.”
“Wait until you have clean shots, then take them. Your call when to fire,” Drakon ordered.
The loyalists were halfway to the shuttle that was supposed to lift them to safety when Morgan’s hidden commandos fired, knocking down half of the enemy platoon in the first volley. The others hesitated, unsure whether to flee, fire back, or start slaughtering the citizens they were using as shields. By the time the survivors made up their minds, all but two were dead. One tried to surrender, but died before the dropped weapon hit the ground, and the other got off only one wild shot before also falling.
“All right. Do the act,” Drakon ordered.
Morgan and the other commandos killed the stealth circuits on their suits, walking out toward the citizens standing frozen with fear amid the bodies of their former captors. Colonel Kai and his soldiers came from another angle, Kai raising his helmet shield to frown at Morgan. “I had promised them my soldiers would not shoot if they let the citizen hostages go free,” Kai said loud enough for the citizens to hear.
“I didn’t promise them anything,” Morgan replied just as clearly. “And I don’t work for you. These commandos are under my command, not yours.”
“The Free Taroans did not want any citizens harmed,” Kai pointed out.
“Then they should be happy,” Morgan replied. “All we killed were the snakes and anyone helping them.”
Kai shrugged, the motion oddly amplified by his combat armor, then turned to the citizens. “You are free to return to your homes. If there are wounded citizens inside the building, my medics will see to them.”
“The citizens can’t possibly believe that was real,” Kamara protested back at the Free Taroan headquarters. “Your Colonel Kai sounded wooden, and Colonel Morgan sounded like she was joking.”
“Colonel Kai almost always sounds like that. I don’t keep either him or Morgan around for their acting ability,” Drakon replied. “To those citizens, as scared and shook-up as they are, it probably sounded real enough. We just bought you some good publicity with the citizens in that valley. Make sure you don’t waste it.”
Sub-CEO Kamara nodded at Drakon, her expression thoughtful, then gradually acquired a gleeful look as she took in all the results of the operation. “That was the last pocket of resistance in the three valleys. This guts the loyalists. We’ve got their most important valleys, all of the support infrastructure in them, and we’ve wiped out their leadership. Their remaining forces can’t hold out now. We’ve already heard from the commanders in two of the areas still held by the loyalists, asking for terms of surrender.”
“Good.” He couldn’t feel too elated at the outcome. The casualty lists were coming in. Not too many dead and wounded for such an operation. But still some.
Kamara was happily talking to the other members of the Interim Congress of Free Taroa. Drakon gazed at the display, where the patches of loyalist-controlled territory had shrunk dramatically. Outside, the sun glowed dimly through the clouds of volcanic dust drifting across the sky.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
IT only took a week for the remaining loyalist opposition to crumble. At the end of that time, with the threat of Drakon’s ground forces and warships looming over them, and with the Workers Universal making a series of ill-considered threats and a suicide bombing that angered rather than intimidated the WU’s opponents, the last valleys controlled by the loyalists bowed to the control of the Free Taroans.
Sub-CEO Kamara promptly turned around the surrendered loyalist soldiers, combined them with her own forces, and charged into the areas still held by the Workers Universal. Drakon kept his own forces out of it as the Free Taroan soldiers, including those who had been recently fighting the Free Taroans, rampaged into the WU-controlled areas.
“We should be playing a part in this,” Morgan grumbled.
“I don’t want any part in it,” Drakon replied sourly. “For people who were upset about atrocities, they seem way too eager to wipe out anything and anybody with any taint of Workers Universal.”
“We could separate them,” Malin suggested. “Keep the deaths down by stopping the fighting.”
“They’d just finish the job when we left,” Drakon said. “Let them do it. Let them do it, then wake up in the morning and realize what they’ve done. Maybe in the long run, that’ll save some lives.”
“Do we have any word from the congress yet?” Malin asked.
“No. The interim congress is waiting until the WU is finished. I’ll talk to them tomorrow, tell them what we want, then we can get the hell out here.” Taroa was beautiful, but his thoughts of it were tainted by the toll of the civil war.
“General,” Malin said, “we avoided this kind of thing at Midway. Because of how you and President Iceni handled things.”
“Or because we had a lot more weapons and nobody would mess with General Drakon,” Morgan said sarcastically. “Let’s just tell these FreeTas what we want and tell them to deliver. If they’re not grateful enough for our help, we can dump a load of hurt on their heads.”
“They’ll know they can’t just blow us off,” Drakon said. “They need us, our goodwill, because we’re always going to be the star next door, and that’s the other thing that they’ll realize when they wake up in the morning.”
“I love it when you’re domineering,” Morgan said, then laughed when he gave her a disapproving look. “I get what’s going on. We own these guys even though the FreeTas get to keep pretending they’re all independent and strong. And we own those orbiting dockyards, which I bet is the third thing the FreeTas are going to be waking up to. Nice job, General.”
Malin didn’t offer any rejoinder this time, instead watching Morgan with the intentness of a man trying to defuse an explosive.
* * *
“IT’S impossible to express our gratitude,” another member of the interim congress intoned. “Now that Taroa is once more reunited, and free, we will never forget the aid that Midway offered to help bring that about.”
Remembering came cheap, of course, and no one had yet suggested the idea of actual, tangible repayment. Drakon nodded, offering the members of the congress a small smile. “President Iceni and I were happy to assist. We want trade to get going again. Your ships will be welcome at Midway, and we won’t use our warships to hinder any ships trying to get to you through our star system.”
A few members of the congress got that, realizing that the statement implied that such traffic could be hindered at any time that Midway felt like it. Traffic could still arrive using Taroa’s other jump points, but such travel would be much more difficult than for anyone using the speed and ease of Midway’s hypernet gate.
One of the congress members gave Drakon a skeptical look. “What will be happening to the charges for use of the hypernet gate by merchant traffic? Now that your rates are no longer regulated by the Syndicate government?”
He wouldn’t have known the answer to that except that Iceni had made a point of telling him before they left. “The rates are going to be reduced. It’s not that we don’t need money, but we won’t be sending any of that on to Prime anymore. We can charge merchants using the gate less and still retain more to help pay for establishing Midway as a strong, independent star system.”
“Why not charge even less and ret
ain less?” someone challenged him.
Drakon couldn’t help a narrow-eyed look at the person who had spoken. “You think you’re getting a bad deal? I haven’t heard anyone say anything yet about the soldiers we lost helping you gain control of your planet and star system.”
The majority managed to look guilty though also defensive.
“Our military forces don’t come free, and they’re not cheap,” Drakon continued. “I need enough revenue to cover pay, maintenance, operations, and a lot of other things. Prime isn’t going to be defending Midway anymore. It won’t be defending Taroa, either. You help us pay for defense, and we’ll help defend you. Balk at that, and we may not have enough forces to spare when the Syndicate government shows up here again.”
He had fallen back into CEO speaking habits without even thinking, talking as someone whose words were not to be debated or questioned. And the Free Taroans, with a lifetime of conditioning to fear and obey, sat straighter as their smiles faded.
Colonel Malin stepped forward slightly, drawing everyone’s attention, sounding reasonable as well as firm. “As General Drakon said, we can no longer depend on Prime to pay for our defense. Instead, Prime has become a threat. We also have to deal with the enigmas. Yes, we are officially admitting that the enigmas exist and pose a threat to humanity. If they are to reach Taroa, they have to come from Pele, and through Midway. We must pay for the mobile forces to defend all of the star systems in this region out of our own pockets. Those mobile forces will be available to help defend you as well if we can reach the necessary agreements.”
“Mobile forces aren’t cheap,” Sub-CEO Kamara agreed. “And we have none,” she added for the benefit of the rest of the congress. “We’ve had a graphic demonstration of what the mobile forces under Midway’s control can do to help us. I think it would not be wise to balk at paying less than we have in the past for use of Midway’s hypernet gate when we are also gaining potential defenders as a result.”
“Speaking of defense,” another representative said, “we’ll be happy to accept control of the dockyards from you as soon as we can lift soldiers up there.”