The Lost Stars: Tarnished Knight

by Jack Campbell

  I know how Conor Gaiene feels. I’m tired of turning places into hell.

  But I don’t know any other way to get this done that wouldn’t kill a lot more people.

  * * *

  THE sentry gaping at the violence erupting along the ridges died without even knowing Roh Morgan was nearby. A moment later, the antiair vehicle the sentry had been guarding rocked as a limpet mine tore out its insides and killed its operator. Under the distraction of the bombardment hitting, commandos in stealth suits who had carefully infiltrated over the last few days struck at the same time, carrying out pinpoint attacks to destroy mobile defenses which had parked among the populace to discourage bombardments aimed at them.

  A platoon of soldiers came pounding down the street, staring around for enemies. Morgan took careful aim and dropped their leader, who had made himself obvious by gesturing commands. Grinning, she gunned down two more soldiers, then shifted position as shots began hitting the area around her.

  A panicked civilian racing across the street blocked her next shot. Annoyed, Morgan fired twice, both shots tearing through the civilian before slamming into the soldier behind him.

  Green lights glowed on Morgan’s helmet display, showing the other commandos in the valley had completed their hits.

  But all of it had been a distraction, designed to keep the snakes confused and overwhelmed as reports of activity and threats poured in from all sides. She had learned that about people at an early age—how easy it was to divert and disorient them by throwing too many ideas and images and emotions their way. Men were particularly prone to losing the ability to think when women tossed the right enticements in front of them, but almost any human could be knocked off-balance by enough of the right kinds of mental overloads.

  Not her, though. Morgan could always see her goals with crystal clarity no matter the confusion around her. It had all snapped into focus after she had been pulled from that asteroid. She had been reborn then because she had a destiny. Drakon’s acceptance of her as an officer had been part of that destiny. He didn’t know that yet. But she had known it for a long time.

  She leaned back calmly against the nearest wall, completely unfazed by the small-arms fire being sprayed out from the survivors of the loyalist squad, tapping out a coded command. Puppet master limpets that Morgan and her team had previously attached to critical junctions in the loyalist command network went to work, sending out bogus commands and false updates. In the flurry of incoming reports, the snakes would see many that said everything was going well, and their minds would seize upon the things that they wanted to see in that mass of information overkill.

  * * *

  “THERE are the signals,” Sub-CEO Kamara said, as major explosions occurred in all three valleys. “The commandos have softened things up inside the valleys.”

  Drakon nodded. “All brigades, go.”

  Shuttles hopped into the air, almost clipping the tops of the ridges as they crested the obstacles and burst through the still-falling dust to plummet toward the floors of the valleys. Many of those shuttles were Drakon’s, but others belonged to the Free Taroans, battered remnants of the aerospace forces that had once protected the skies and low orbits of this world. Those Taroan pilots who had survived this long were either very lucky or very good, and both qualities served them now as they led the Midway shuttles into the attack. Only a few scattered shots erupted from any defenders who still lived and hadn’t been disoriented or disabled or destroyed by the bombardments or the commandos.

  * * *

  COLONEL Malin paused, eyeing the vapor barrier guarding the loyalist headquarters complex in this valley. The water misting out from the barrier would allow detection of someone wearing even the best stealth suit, protecting the headquarters from infiltration.

  But that barrier also clearly identified the headquarters and isolated it from surrounding structures. Even though it was well hidden from overhead view, Malin could precisely locate it from his position.

  It had also made it relatively easy to spot the buried communication lines radiating out from the structure. Puppet master limpets were already at work on those, providing reassuring updates and blocking alerts and activation codes. Malin somberly eyed the readouts from the limpets, ensuring that the protocols and ciphers acquired after the ISS headquarters on Midway was overrun were working to undermine the snakes on Taroa.

  Take nothing for granted. Have backup plans for your backup plans. For reasons unknown, higher powers had left Syndicate space to the whims of gods of chaos. Finding harmony again would require riding the waves of chaos, finding the means to ease the tempest by degrees, using the right forces to calm the storm.

  Sometimes, that meant unleashing other storms.

  He called the heavy cruiser, providing the coordinates for the drop, then faded away from the headquarters as fast as possible while not betraying his presence, while sending out an alert to the other commandos in this valley to beware of the impacts.

  Seconds later, two bombardment projectiles fell through the atmosphere, moving too fast to be visible but leaving lethal streaks of light in their wake. The ground shuddered as the loyalist headquarters became a crater.

  But on Malin’s display, the limpets reported information still flowing to and from the now-vanished headquarters. Clever. Even internal references have false position information. I need to find the real headquarters and get it shut down before it sends the wrong commands.

  Malin and his commandos went back to work.

  * * *

  “COLONEL Malin is showing red-status readout on mission accomplishment,” Colonel Senski reported.

  Kamara rapped on her controls as if that would change the information on her display. “Your bombardment destroyed the target at the coordinates he provided,” she complained to Drakon.

  “If Malin says the job’s not done, it’s not done,” Drakon replied, eyes narrowed as he took in the situation in all three valleys. “Colonel Senski, continue your approach and carry out your assault.”

  “But, General,” Senski protested, “if the assault goes in, and the snake headquarters is still functioning, enough accurate information may reach them to trigger a decision to go doomsday on us.”

  “The longer we continue the operation, the more chance we have of that happening anyway, Colonel. Get in there and take your objectives. If Malin needs something to cover his takedown of the snakes, your assault will draw their attention.”

  Kamara stared at the display, her expression grim. “There could be a snake doomsday device in this city,” she said to Drakon. “The snakes want to recapture the rebellious portions of this planet if they can, not nuke it. But if CEO Ukula has time to realize what’s going down—”

  “We get a real big kick in the butt,” Drakon replied, keeping his own voice casual. “I figured that might be the case. Pulling back now, hesitating now, will only worsen the risks.”

  She gave him a wry smile. “Since both of our butts are on the line, too, I hope you’re right.”

  Me, too. “Malin will take out the snake headquarters.”

  * * *

  THE main bodies of the brigades were arriving at their objectives, shuttles landing hard to spray out armored soldiers in overwhelming numbers. The defenders, hurt, disorganized, and getting contradictory orders thanks to the limpets on the snake command lines, resisted in some places and surrendered in others.

  “Command links severed in this valley,” Colonel Kai reported, looking perfectly composed even in the midst of battle.

  “How can you be sure you got all the command links?” Kamara demanded.

  “Because we have severed every comm link in this valley except our own. That part of your infrastructure will be much easier to repair than if this entire area is cratered,” Kai replied.

  Before Kamara could reply, another transmission drew their attention.

  “Bloody hell!” Colonel Gaiene roared.

  Drakon hastily switched focus to Gaiene’s units, see
ing 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 about, 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 build
ing.

  “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.”