The Lost Stars: Shattered Spear (37 page)

It was not the most romantic of circumstances, but when the shuttle settled and dropped its ramp Drakon felt his heart leap. Iceni walked out first, her arms widespread as she waved to the onlookers, who howled with enthusiasm. She came straight to Drakon, wrapped her arms about him, and kissed him, which also generated a roar of approval from the crowd. Drakon barely noticed Colonel Rogero leaving the shuttle and rushing to embrace Bradamont, though displaying open surprise at the fact that she was wearing a civilian pantsuit rather than a uniform.

They were all escorted into the same armored limo, an action that
also surprised Rogero, Drakon and Iceni sitting in the plush seats on one side while Rogero and Bradamont took the other. Drakon relaxed a bit once the armored doors sealed and the vehicle began moving.

Iceni gave Bradamont a stern look. “So, Captain Bradamont—”

Bradamont interrupted. “As I am sure General Drakon has explained, Madam President, I am no longer entitled to that rank.”

“What?” Rogero stared at her.

“Wait,” Iceni told him, then looked at Bradamont again. “I am the president of this star system and you are entitled to anything I think you are entitled to!” Iceni crossed her arms, studying Bradamont. “I have already formally accepted the deal agreed to by General Drakon. I understand that the details still need to be worked out. I’ll offer you the rank of Kommodor in Midway’s forces. You’ll be coequal with Kommodor Marphissa, both reporting to me. You’ll get all of the status, perks, and pay that come with that rank, with seniority based upon your total time in service, including with the Alliance. I will respect whatever agreements you made with the Alliance and not demand that you divulge any secrets or other protected information except at your own discretion. And you will be permitted to wear your Alliance awards and ribbons. As you no doubt expect, there is one catch to the deal.”

“One catch?” Bradamont, who had been listening with growing amazement, looked warily at Iceni. “What is the catch, Madam President?”

“That you must continue to speak to me as frankly as you have in the past, offering your best assessments and advice, and not hesitating to point out any problems you perceive. Can you agree to those terms?”

“I . . .” Bradamont swallowed, regained her poise, and shot a glance at Rogero before replying. “You are extremely generous, Madam President. I accept your offer and am honored that you consider me worthy of it.”

Iceni snorted derisively. “Do you know how badly I’ve wanted to have a second Kommodor I could count on? I assure you that I am getting by far the best of this deal. Perhaps Colonel Rogero can teach you
to bargain better. You can make the formal commitment as a Kommodor in Midway’s forces tomorrow and keep calling yourself captain until then if you like.”

“May I make one request?” Bradamont asked. “The uniforms that Midway uses, they are still obviously Syndicate in origin, and if I am to wear one I was hoping they might be further modified—”

Iceni waved away her words. “I’ve been meaning to get the uniforms changed, but something always comes up to distract me. Make that one of your first priorities as a Kommodor.”

“What?” Rogero repeated. He had been listening with a look of growing incredulity and incomprehension. “What is going on?”

“Explain things to him,” Iceni told Bradamont. “And while you’re making the commitment to Midway you might kill two birds with one stone and make another more personal commitment, if your colonel isn’t too hesitant.”

She sat back next to Drakon, who knew he was smiling, while Bradamont talked quickly in a low voice to Rogero, who seemed unable to decide on which emotion to fix on his face. “What about you and me, Artur?” Iceni asked. “Still ready for that?”

“Yes,” he said. “Colonel Gozen filled out the forms, so they’d be ready for us.”

“How very romantic of you. Why do you sound worried?”

Drakon decided not to mince words. “Because after we submit the forms, there’s a legally mandated twenty-four-hour cooling-off period, and you and I can’t afford to ignore that when we’re trying to make laws mean something. No matter how we protect the forms from disclosure, someone with sufficient hacking skills can find them and make their own preparations.”

“Morgan and Togo?” Iceni gazed into the distance. “Neither of them would pass that up, would they?”

“It’s predictable that they’d try for us then, but I’m willing to bet that both will think we’ll be complacent about the amount of security
around the ceremony, and they’ll believe that they can each overcome that security.”

“They wouldn’t use any major weapons,” Iceni mused. “Morgan wants me dead, Togo wants you dead, and neither wants to inflict collateral damage on the other of us. At least we don’t have to worry about mass destruction weapons.”

“I was afraid you’d want to put it off, given the threat,” Drakon confessed.

“No. Let’s get this done, let’s get everything resolved, if we can. Because we can’t live with this forever.”

“General?” Rogero asked with uncharacteristic hesitancy. “I wish to request permission to—”

Drakon cut him off. “Oh, hell, Donal, you know you have permission. Go ahead and file the forms.”

“After you discuss terms,” Iceni said. “The general and I have staffs to review our terms. You two should make sure you are individually covered.”

“We only held back,” Rogero explained, “because we assumed she would be returning to the Alliance and . . . we don’t need to discuss terms. Anything she wants,” he added, gazing at Bradamont with a broad grin.

Iceni shook her head. “Neither of you can bargain. I suppose it’s better that you partner each other rather than both of you wandering around waiting to be taken advantage of by someone else.”

*   *   *

TWENTY-FOUR
hours later, Drakon was wearing his dress uniform, which was liberally salted with weapons and defensive measures that were invisible to outside appearance. He was all too aware that for every defense there was a countermeasure, and any weapon was useless unless you got a chance to employ it.

Surrounded by bodyguards, he walked into the Presidential
complex. The bodyguards took up positions guarding doors and hallways as he walked, their numbers gradually dwindling until Drakon reached the last door alone.

Colonel Bran Malin waited there. Just Malin. That felt wrong, after so many years in which Malin and Morgan had been Drakon’s right and left hands. But he had never broken faith with her. She was not here today because of Morgan’s own choices.

Drakon could not help worrying about what choices Morgan might make today.

Malin saluted, looking as happy as Drakon had ever seen him. It wasn’t much in the way of joy, but for Malin it was a lot. “This is an important moment,” he said.

“I like to think so,” Drakon said.

Malin blinked as if trying to understand the joke. “Oh. Yes. For you and for President Iceni. But also in terms of creating a stable governing structure—”

“Thank you, Bran. That’s not why we’re doing it. Anything to report?”

He shook his head. “No sign of either of them, sir.”

“Bran, if there is anyone in this universe who might understand what Morgan is up to, it would be you.” Drakon saw Malin stiffen a bit more, plainly unhappy at having his relationship to Morgan mentioned. “How much do I have to worry about her? Because I would much rather focus on worrying about Togo.”

Malin did not answer for a long moment. “Morgan would never do anything that she did not think was in your best interests,” he finally said. “As you are fully aware, General, her judgment on what is in your best interests can be seriously flawed. She will not attack you. But she may attack anyone who she thinks is a hindrance to you.”

“Did she ever seriously attempt to kill you, Bran?”

Another long pause. “Not in cold blood. There were a few times, of which you are aware, when Morgan’s temper nearly led to that.”

Drakon weighed his next words carefully. “I want you to know
something. I’ve been thinking about you and Morgan, and every action you’ve participated in. There were a lot of opportunities that Morgan could have used to bring about your death, Bran. Times when she could have paused for a second or two before acting, times when she could have gone left instead of right, times when she could have chosen other targets. But she never did.”

“She didn’t want the blame, General,” Malin said. “She didn’t want to alienate you, not until her plans were far enough along.”

“I suppose that’s possible.” Drakon, knowing that if either Togo or Morgan had planned something, it would take place very soon, felt a reluctance to set things into motion by moving ahead. “There’s something else. We’ve blamed a lot of the problems in the Syndicate on the Syndicate mind-set. The idea that all that matters is profit and efficiency, that self-interest is the ultimate good. But Togo and Morgan are acting out of a different mind-set, personal loyalty to either me or President Iceni, and that’s producing the same results.”

Malin shook his head. “No, sir. Both Morgan and Togo would declare that they are motivated by personal loyalty, but both are, in my opinion, merely using either you or President Iceni as tools for their own ambitions.”

“And what about you, Colonel?”

“I hope I am motivated by higher goals, General, but I do not pretend to lack flaws, and personal delusion may be among them,” Malin said, perfectly serious.

“I’ve met far worse people, Bran. I’m grateful to have worked with you. Before we go in, I want you to understand that if an attack goes down and you have to choose between protecting President Iceni or me, you choose her. Is that clear?”

Malin nodded. “I feel obligated to advise you, sir, that President Iceni has already ordered me to give your protection priority over her.”

For some reason, that struck Drakon as funny. “I guess you’ll just have to use your best judgment if it comes to that. All right. I’ve stalled
long enough. Let’s go.” They entered the room, Malin in the lead as he scanned for threats, Drakon trying to do the same but losing his concentration when he saw Gwen Iceni in a practical but exceedingly flattering outfit. Her clothing was probably laced with as many defenses and weapons as Drakon’s, but there was no way of telling that from where he stood.

Bradamont, Rogero, and Colonel Gozen entered as well to serve as official witnesses, but all of them had more eyes for their surroundings than for the couple. Drakon wondered just how many weapons were now in this room.

“The sooner, the better,” Gwen said, with a look at him that told Drakon how much the tension was unnerving her as well. He walked up beside her and they stood before the scanner to register their commitment. It felt very odd to be making such a personal decision on a standard-looking form with touch-sensitive check boxes for things like “duration of commitment” and “number of previous commitments.”

He was reaching toward the scanner when an explosion elsewhere in the building caused the room to shudder.

“Diversion!” Malin, Rogero, and Gozen all yelled at once, weapons appearing in their hands.

Drakon’s defensive array sounded an alert.

“EMP burst outside the room,” Malin reported. “The upgraded shields stopped it.”

“Reports of penetration attempts at the east perimeter,” Rogero said. “I can’t confirm whether the reports are accurate.”

Everything that had happened, every threat trying to draw their attention, was outside this room. Which meant—

“Someone is already inside,” Iceni cried, having reached the same conclusion as Drakon.

Out of the corner of his eye Drakon saw part of the inside wall begin to move.

Drakon could never afterward sort out the sequence of everything
that happened next. In his mind, it all seemed to take place at once. Only by reviewing security scans later was he able to break things down into a sequence.

Togo, in a chameleon suit that he had modified to fool sensors designed to spot it, swung one arm up to aim at Drakon.

Drakon’s reflexes shoved a ready weapon into his hand, but the hand was still pointed toward the table.

Iceni lurched forward to block Togo’s line of fire, another weapon in her hand but also a wide arm swing away from being able to target Togo.

Malin already had a weapon out and almost on target, but he was so close to Iceni that Togo only had to shift his aim very slightly to put two shots into Malin before Malin could fire.

Another shot tore over Malin’s shoulder as he fell, aimed at Togo but too high to hit him. Morgan had appeared out of nowhere, only to find that her line of fire was blocked by Malin. Later they discovered that she had burrowed through from a maintenance shaft, bypassing all alarms and defeating all barriers, breaking into the room just as the firing began. Instead of simply firing through Malin as Drakon would have expected of her, Morgan wasted one shot over his shoulder, then took a precious moment of time to sidestep more slowly than her usual deadly speed to get a clear shot at Togo.

Togo didn’t pause for even that moment. He was firing quickly and with terrible accuracy. Malin staggered as two more rounds impacted on his head and chest, but he still got off one shot of his own before he fell.

Malin’s shot smashed into Togo’s shoulder, but Togo kept firing remorselessly with his other hand, swinging his barrel to cover Morgan. That moment spent clearing her line of fire cost Morgan dearly as several shots tore into her, but she still managed to fire three times, knocking Togo back with the impacts.

Before Morgan could hit the floor, Iceni and Rogero had pistols
aimed at her, while Gozen and Drakon had lined up on Togo. Neither Iceni nor Rogero fired at Morgan as her limp form fell, but Drakon and Gozen shot rapidly, riddling Togo despite defensive elements in his suit that deflected a number of shots.

Pinned to the wall by the impacts, Togo dropped to his knees, even in death his expression betraying no clues to how he felt before he slammed face-first to the floor.

Her weapon sweeping the room in case of other threats, Gozen cautiously approached Togo.

Rogero knelt by Malin, checking for any signs of life.