“During Black Jack’s campaign against the Syndicate Worlds,” Iceni added thoughtfully. “What that woman must know about his way of fighting.” She sat up straighter. “Black Jack said she would render advice and assistance. Including on defense matters. That knowledge could be invaluable to us. Oh, he is devious. Military advice to us, offered in a form that looks completely innocuous.”
“You want to accept her, then?”
“We can’t afford to turn her down! And if Colonel Rogero can really vouch for her . . .” Iceni chewed her lower lip as she thought. “It will be touchy. Very touchy. She’s the enemy. Not officially, not anymore, but we’ve spent our lives seeing the uniform she wears as that of the enemy. An enemy who killed untold numbers of our citizens.”
“We started it,” Drakon said dryly.
“And you know how little that matters to the average worker.” Iceni shook her head. “We’ll have to figure out how to handle it. Formal recognition of our status as an independent star system by the Alliance, and an officer who both represents Black Jack and can advise on his tactics. We cannot turn this down.”
Drakon nodded. “You’re right, but you’re also right about how hard it will be to get anyone to work with her. Do you want to confine her to the orbital facility for a while?”
“No. I want her free to go where she wants to go and do what she wants to do.” Iceni smiled. “That way we’ll learn where she wants to go and what she wants to do.”
“Fair enough. We know she’ll be telling Black Jack what’s happening here.”
“As long as she doesn’t try to set up an Alliance spy ring, I can accept that.”
Drakon played with the controls for a moment, and Iceni once again saw Geary speaking part of his message. “. . . in your transition to a freer form of government . . .”
“That might be a problem,” Iceni conceded. “If he really expects us to keep offering the citizens more freedom and say in the government. We do have some measures under way already, such as the elections for low-level officials, that should gladden the heart of the Alliance.”
“I have been getting advice that we should continue that process as far as we can safely take it,” Drakon said. “For the sake of long-term stability and ensuring citizen buy-in to our government.”
Where have I heard that before? That assistant of Drakon’s. Colonel Malin. He must still be pushing the idea. “As long as the emphasis remains on as far as we can safely take it, I don’t object to that concept in theory,” Iceni said. “In any event, that’s a long-term problem. We have one other short-term problem. What about your Colonel Rogero?”
Drakon brooded over the question for several seconds. “I want to leave it up to Colonel Rogero. I’ll back whatever decision he makes.”
As I could have guessed before I asked the question. “That could hurt him,” Iceni said. “If the citizens learn that she is not only an Alliance officer but also served as a source for the snakes . . .”
“Rogero was technically a source, too. He misled the snakes at every turn, but their files list him as a source. Let’s try to keep that quiet in both their cases.”
“Let’s.” Iceni sat looking at Drakon. “Does anyone else know about Rogero and Bradamont? About Rogero’s ties to the snakes?”
Drakon nodded heavily. “One person.”
Something about the way he said it brought a lump of anxiety to life in her guts. One person. “Not her.”
“Yeah. Colonel Morgan.”
“Why in the hell did you tell—”
“I didn’t tell her!” Drakon glared at Iceni. “She found out while checking for hidden snake agents after the mess with Colonel Dun. I told you she was good.”
“Oh . . . wonderful!” Iceni tried to damp down her aggravation. “Can we keep her alive?”
“Morgan?”
“Bradamont!”
“Oh.” Drakon’s expression shaded to grim determination. “Yes. You don’t have to worry about that.”
“Pardon me, but I will be worrying about that!” Iceni sighed and managed to regain control. “If you tell me that Bradamont will be safe from . . . threats, then I will tell Black Jack that we will accept her and the citizens freed from the enigmas.”
Drakon nodded and leaned forward to emphasize his words. “Ask if Bradamont will bring some intel about what Black Jack’s fleet did in enigma space, and wherever they found the six mystery ships and that mammoth battleship. We haven’t been told anything about those yet. If Black Jack really wants to formalize things, his representative should be willing to share some of that information. We’re closer to the enigmas than any other star system. We need to know what he found out and what he found.”
“Yes. Absolutely,” Iceni agreed. “I will phrase it diplomatically, but I will make it clear that we hope for such information and regard it as of critical importance to the security of this star system.” Another thought hit her then, causing Iceni to give Drakon a keen glance. “Bradamont’s code name was Mantis. Why did the snakes call her that?”
He shrugged. “I have no idea. Snakes aren’t in the habit of explaining things. Why does it matter? A mantis is an insect, right? Some sort of bug? The code name was probably intended as a put-down of Bradamont.”
“I don’t think so,” Iceni said. “A mantis isn’t just any insect. It’s a very deadly insect. A predator. And a species in which the female mantises devour the males.”
Drakon stared at Iceni, then shook his head. “Well, an Alliance battle cruiser commander. They’re tough, right? Maybe that’s what it was about. Or maybe it was the snakes’ idea of a joke.”
“Maybe. If she was working with Alliance intelligence, they would have given her their own code name. I wonder what Alliance intelligence called her?”
Iceni sat for a while after Drakon had left, letting thoughts tumble through her mind. Many of the issues bedeviling her could not be resolved quickly or easily or perhaps at all. Like Morgan. I can’t send Togo after her. He could take her. He’s so good he even frightens me. But any link between me and whoever killed Morgan would kill any hope of working with Drakon again. He’s far too obsessed with that loyalty thing.
I need to contact Malin again. He refused to kill Morgan before. Maybe he’ll agree now. Why wouldn’t he want that woman dead? If he still won’t get rid of her, I’ll let him know that he had better keep her from doing anything against me or this Captain Bradamont. If Morgan does strike at me or her, Malin needs to know that I’ll hold him responsible.
“KOMMODOR! A new warship has arrived at the hypernet gate!”
Marphissa bolted awake. She had been only fitfully sleeping, worn down by the long stalemate. Day after day of the Syndicate flotilla and the Midway Flotilla glaring at each other across five light-minutes of space, the Alliance fleet orbiting nearly two light-hours away checkmating any offensive action by the Syndicate CEO. Boyens couldn’t attack, but he wouldn’t leave, and she didn’t have enough firepower to force him to go.
Despite her haste, Marphissa checked the passageway outside her door to ensure no one was waiting in ambush. Syndicate executives and CEOs got into those kinds of habits or fell prey to ambitious subordinates looking to clear a few openings for promotion. That was changing. But there were still snake agents rumored to be hidden among the military and citizens of the star system, so old habits would remain current practice.
The way looking clear and her sidearm ready, Marphissa yanked open her hatch and ran for the bridge.
Inside, a sense of excitement had replaced the boredom that had been wearing at everyone. “A new warship? What is it?” Marphissa demanded as she dropped into her command seat.
“Heavy cruiser, Kommodor,” the senior watch specialist announced. “Modified with extra cargo capacity and life support. They’ve seen the Syndicate flotilla and are running.”
“Running?” Marphissa
looked carefully over the situation portrayed on her display before concentrating on the movement of the new heavy cruiser. “Do we have any ID yet?”
“It should have shown up at the same time we saw the cruiser’s arrival, Kommodor,” the watch specialist said. “We’ve seen nothing.”
She took another look at the new arrival, whose first action upon seeing the Syndicate flotilla had been to run. “Send him our ID. I’ll also send him a personal message.”
Activity on the bridge paused for a moment as Kapitan Toirac arrived and hastily sat down in the seat next to Marphissa. “What’s going on?”
She spared him a glance, thinking that just about every CEO, sub-CEO, and executive she had ever worked for would have publicly raked Toirac over the coals for getting to the bridge after his superior. “Check your display,” she said, then turned to face the pickup for her own transmission. “To the unknown cruiser that just arrived at the hypernet gate, this is Kommodor Marphissa of the Midway Flotilla. We are a free and independent star system no longer answering to the authority of the Syndicate Worlds. If you wish to join with us, you will be welcome. If you are heading for another star system, close on our flotilla and we will defend you from the Syndicate flotilla in this star system and escort you to the jump exit of your choice. Our forces will assist in the defense of anyone seeking freedom from Syndicate tyranny. For the people, Marphissa, out.”
“Kommodor,” the senior watch specialist began urgently.
“I see.” Alerts had appeared on her display as ships in the Syndicate flotilla began changing vectors. “Accelerating, coming around. All the heavy cruisers and all the Hunter-Killers.”
“Are they going after the new cruiser?” Kapitan Toirac asked.
“It’s a safe bet,” Marphissa said. “We need to see if—”
“Kommodor?” the watch specialist said. “We have run the courses. If the Syndicate forces proceed at their best speed, then even at maximum acceleration we cannot reach that new cruiser before they do.”
That watch specialist was overdue for a promotion. “Can the new cruiser get clear? He should have had enough of a head start.”
“He’s hauling a lot of extra mass, Kommodor. It’s limiting his acceleration. If current projections hold, the Syndicate ships will catch him.”
Damn. She glanced over at Kapitan Toirac, who was staring fixedly at his own display with the look of a man who was completely out of his depth and trying very hard not to let anyone notice. I recommended he be given a shot as commanding officer of this ship. A lot of junior executives moved up fast when we cleaned out the Syndicate loyalists. Some of them could handle it. My old friend Toirac though . . . he was a good executive. Was that level of authority as much as he could handle? “What do you think, Kapitan?” Marphissa prompted.
“Uh? Ah.” Toirac focused intently on his display again. “We can’t get there . . . and we’re badly outnumbered . . . I don’t see that we can do anything.”
“Not doing anything is a choice, Kapitan,” Marphissa said in a quiet voice. “An absence of action is an action. I will not choose to sit by while those others are wiped out by Syndicate forces.”
Toirac flushed. “It could be a trap.”
“A trap? The new cruiser as a decoy to lure us into trying to save it?” Marphissa pondered that. “That’s possible. But they’re being clumsy about it if that’s the case. They should have set up the situation so it appears we can get to the new cruiser in time to help. What if it’s not a trap? What can we do?”
Frowning with concentration, Toirac shrugged. “A demonstration of force? Something to distract the Syndicate forces?”
“I don’t see—” Marphissa’s gaze had settled on the Syndicate flagship. A battleship, far too powerful for her flotilla to engage. Only an insane commander would try to attack the battleship while almost all the Syndicate escorts were chasing the new cruiser. “Run this,” she ordered. “An intercept on the Syndicate battleship. Can the Syndicate heavy cruisers and HuKs catch the new cruiser and get back to the battleship before we get there?”
Everyone from Toirac on down stared at her for a fraction of a second, then instincts instilled by Syndicate training in obedience to orders took over, and hands flew across displays. “No,” Toirac announced before anyone else, smiling at having displayed his skill at maneuvering calculations. “That is, if we did that, they couldn’t get back before we—”
“Then we’re going.” She had already set up the maneuver on her own display. “All units in the Midway Flotilla, this is Kommodor Marphissa. Execute attached maneuver immediately. Out.”
FOUR hours later, on the inhabited planet, President Gwen Iceni watched the unfolding situation near the hypernet gate as the light from the events finally reached her. Alerted to the arrival of the new cruiser, she watched it begin to flee, watched the Syndicate flotilla, commanded by CEO Boyens, send a strong force in pursuit, saw her display confirm that the new cruiser was doomed, saw the ships of the Midway Flotilla, her warships, also accelerate into new vectors. What is Kommodor Marphissa doing? She can’t—
Iceni stared in disbelief as the vectors on Marphissa’s small group of warships steadied out. They were headed straight for an intercept on Boyens’s battleship, a single warship that was more than a match for everything combined in the Midway Flotilla.
It had all happened four hours ago. Marphissa’s entire flotilla—No, my entire flotilla—had probably already been wiped out.
CHAPTER SIX
“IF she has somehow survived, I will personally kill her!”
Togo, standing impassively near Iceni in response to her summons, wisely avoided saying anything.
It was a shame that Sub-CEO Akiri, who had briefly been on her personal staff, had been assassinated by a snake agent months ago. Right now she really wanted a mobile forces officer nearby so she could scream at him.
On the display above Iceni’s desk, the Midway Flotilla had steadied out, accelerating for all it was worth toward an intercept with the Syndicate battleship. “Oh, isn’t that wonderful! Icing on the cake!”
“Madam President?” Togo asked.
“Look! Do you see those two symbols? They mean that those two Hunter-Killer ships are on tracks to collide with the Syndicate battleship! Not a close firing run! A collision!”
A slight frown creased Togo’s usually smooth brow. “How did the Kommodor convince the crews of those two ships to obey such an order?”
“She didn’t have to! There are remote command circuits. With the right codes, Marphissa can take over control of other ships in her flotilla. I entrusted those codes to her, and now she’s using them to do something that will cost me an immense amount of support!”
This time Togo nodded in understanding. “Because it will be perceived that you sent those two crews to their deaths. The crews of the other mobile forces units will not take that well.”
“Nor will the citizens! I’ve been keeping the citizens happy with a trickle of changes that improve their lot and grant them more freedom. If I were a normal CEO, they wouldn’t blink at my throwing away the lives of their fellow citizens like that, but they expect me to be different.”
“You have codes that override the override codes that you gave to the Kommodor,” Togo pointed out.
“And it would take four hours for my override of her override to get there! Which is about three hours too long,” Iceni got out between gritted teeth.
“The action does not seem characteristic of Kommodor Marphissa,” Togo offered.
Iceni glared at the display. “Characteristic or not, she’s doing it. I want to get rid of Boyens and his flotilla, but not in a way that’s going to undermine my position. News of this will spread to every nearby star system, and everyone will see me as nothing more than a typical CEO.”
“They will respect you if—”
“I do not have enough fire
power to rule this region of space through fear!” Nor do I want to. I would have to do things to reinforce that fear, and I have done too many things like that already. Togo knew of some of those things, had followed her orders to carry out some of them, but he did not know everything. Not by a long shot. “This action could destroy our chances of a much stronger mutual-defense agreement with Taroa.”
She forced herself to sit down and breathe slowly. How to deal with the fallout from this? Not only the loss of most of my flotilla but also the deliberate use of two warships and their crews as projectiles.
Togo cleared his throat diffidently. “Some of the Syndicate ships are altering course.”
Iceni looked up at the display, seeing the heavy cruisers and Hunter-Killers that had been sent in pursuit of the new cruiser turning back. “They’re going to reinforce the defenses around the battleship.” But Marphissa’s warships continued on their attack run even though their mission had now become not simply hopeless but clearly impossible. What is she trying to accomplish?
The answer came to Iceni moments before she saw Marphissa’s ships break off their attack and bend back toward their previous orbit. “It was a bluff. Damn her. She scared Boyens into letting that new cruiser go.”
“CEO Boyens will be angry that they escaped,” Togo said.
“Very angry, yes.” Can I use that? Oh my, yes. I can use that. The frustrated anger of a short time earlier had become elation. Not only had Marphissa been far more clever than expected, but the recent events had given Iceni the sort of idea that could finally break the impasse between CEO Boyens and everyone else in this star system. “I need to contact that new cruiser. He could be very helpful to us. Notify General Drakon that I need to speak with him privately. Just him and me. Don’t give me that look. There are still snakes around, and I can’t risk any of them hearing the plan I just came up with.”
“If Madam President no longer believes I can be counted upon—” Togo began, his posture and voice stiffer than usual.
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