The Lost Stars: Shattered Spear (5 page)

“She uses no title,” Malin said. “She is just known as Granaile Imallye.”

“That does not give me a warm and fuzzy,” Bradamont commented. “Someone who doesn’t think they even need a rank or title to command is someone with a lot of confidence in themselves.”

“And a bit of an enigma as well, in the human sense of the term,” Iceni said. “But I don’t see any alternative to making direct contact with this Imallye and finding out her intentions. If the enigmas establish a presence at Iwa, and her forces are at Moorea, she’s going to end up fighting the enigmas, too, and perhaps soon.”

“I agree,” Drakon said. “We don’t have to like Imallye, but we can’t afford to be fighting her and the enigmas and the Syndicate. We have to find out if we can live with her, or if we’re going to have to get rid of her.”

“The Syndicate will take a while to recover from its losses at Ulindi,” Malin said.

“I agree with that,” Gozen said. “My old unit was the strongest Syndicate ground force in the region. Add in the warships that were lost and the troop transports that were captured, and the Syndicate took a big hit.”

“Don’t underestimate them,” Iceni said. “The Syndicate still controls a lot of star systems with a lot of resources. Even if they can’t overwhelm us at the moment, they probably have the means to push us hard. We need to send a ship to contact Imallye, and if I weren’t worried about attacks on Midway by either the Syndicate or the enigmas I would send
Midway
or
Pele
. But I want both of those warships on hand. I can’t spare a heavy cruiser, either, but I’ll have to. I don’t want an official contact with this pirate queen or warlord or supreme dictator to be in anything smaller than a heavy cruiser.”

“You’ll need a high-ranking representative aboard the heavy cruiser,” Bradamont cautioned. “Imallye will more likely react positively to contact with a senior official than if someone of lower rank is sent.”

Iceni glared up at the stars in the display. “Which means Kommodor Marphissa, doesn’t it? Damn. I can’t afford to have her gone, either!”

“You have some good commanders in Kapitan Mercia and Kapitan Kontos,” Bradamont said.

“Neither of whom has decent experience in commanding formations of warships!” Iceni fixed her gaze on Bradamont. “But you do.”

Bradamont shook her head. “I’m not supposed to get directly involved in combat—”

“Oh, hell, Captain! You’re here to keep Midway from falling to the Syndicate or to the enigmas!”

“My orders—”

“And if Midway falls to either you know what will happen to Colonel Rogero! He will die heroically, I have no doubt. But he will die. And so would you. Is that really what Black Jack would want?”

Bradamont stared fixedly at the display for several seconds. “I am allowed to use my discretion in emergencies,” she finally said.

“Good.” Iceni nodded as if the matter was settled. “Then you will go aboard
Midway
or
Pele
, at your discretion, and if we are attacked you will assume overall command of our warships.”

Gozen was staring at everyone else. “You’re seriously talking about giving command of almost all of your mobile forces to an Alliance officer?”

The laughter from Drakon momentarily shocked everyone. “Yeah,” he said. “We are. Can you imagine this a year ago?”

“A lot has happened,” Iceni said, smiling thinly in response.

“Hell, yeah, a lot has happened.” Drakon looked at Gozen. “Colonel, this Alliance officer is Black Jack’s. As crazy as it sounds, she is the best choice for that assignment. We’re not Syndicate anymore. Our warship crews respect Captain Bradamont.”

“Not all of them,” Bradamont muttered. “I’ll need to take my bodyguards along if I’m going to be riding
Midway
or
Pele
,” she added in a normal voice.

Gozen smiled in turn. “Taking your bodyguards everywhere? So you’ve become a little bit Syndicate yourself?”

“Please do not say that.”

*   *   *

A
week later, the war-damaged Dancer warships having crossed the star system and jumped for Pele without ever disclosing where they had been or whom they had fought, Kommodor Marphissa sat on the bridge of the heavy cruiser
Manticore
as the warship approached the jump point for Iwa. Beside her was Kapitan Diaz, who was frowning with clear unhappiness. “Kommodor,” he asked in a low voice, “what if the enigmas have already taken Iwa?”

“Then I am to evaluate the situation and either continue on to Moorea,” Marphissa answered, “or return immediately to Midway.”

“The president gave you that much discretion?” Diaz said, surprised.

“She did. We’re not working for the Syndicate anymore.”

“That never would have happened if we were,” Diaz agreed. “But what if the enigmas have already mined the jump point we’ll arrive at, or have some of their warships stationed at it to catch any human ship that arrives?”

Marphissa smiled humorlessly. “In that case, Kapitan, you are to avoid hitting any of the mines, and avoid being hit by any enigma weaponry, until this ship jumps back for Midway.”

Diaz stared, then grinned. “Now that sounds like a Syndicate order!”

“Bite your tongue, Kapitan. You may jump for Iwa.”

But Marphissa, despite the banter with Diaz, could not help a jolt of anxiety as the stars vanished and were replaced by the dull gray nothingness of jump space. Orders that left her the freedom to decide what to do also meant they left her the freedom to make the wrong choices. And if the enigmas were at Iwa when
Manticore
arrived, even one wrong choice might be one mistake too many.

“WE
need to plan for an attack on Iwa. It might be against the Syndicate presence there, which would be an easy operation.” General Drakon looked from Colonel Rogero to Colonel Safir to Colonel Kai. His three brigade commanders. It still felt wrong, it would feel wrong for a long time, to see Safir there instead of Colonel Conner Gaiene. But Conner had died at Ulindi and would never be here again except in Drakon’s memories. “Or it might be against an enigma occupation force.”

“Which would not be easy,” Rogero commented.

“Has there ever been a ground fight with the enigmas?” Safir asked.

“None that we know of,” Drakon said. “To the best of our knowledge, some of the star systems they occupied over the last century had surviving Syndicate ground forces. But we have no idea what happened when the enigmas landed.”

“Black Jack’s information has nothing to offer?” Colonel Kai asked.

“No. They didn’t have any ground or ship-boarding operations, either,” Drakon said. “The one thing Black Jack’s reports emphasized
was the enigmas will not surrender and will try to blow everything to hell before we can learn anything from it.”

“Themselves included?”

“Themselves included.”

“How much will we send?” Rogero asked.

“Plan on one brigade.” Drakon looked over his colonels again. “I don’t know which one of yours will be tapped for the operation if we go ahead with this. Each of you should assume it might be your brigade.”

“All of the brigades have been pushed hard over the last year,” Kai said.

“It hasn’t been as bad as some of the ops when we were under Syndicate control,” Safir pointed out.

“That’s not saying much.”

“No, it isn’t,” Safir conceded. Syndicate CEOs had never shown any worries about casualties, but then neither had Alliance generals as the apparently endless war had ground on. With vast populations to draw on, high-ranking leaders on both sides had developed a tendency to throw endless bodies into any fight in the hopes that enough deaths would choke the enemy killing machines.

Black Jack had been different, rumor said. But then, he was Black Jack.

And Drakon had been different as well, which was why these soldiers had followed him when he and Iceni rebelled against the Syndicate.

“We’ll get this done if it needs doing,” Drakon said. “We’ll do it smart, and we’ll do it right.”

The colonels could tell when Drakon had ended a discussion and issued an order. They all saluted in the Syndicate fashion, bringing their right fists across to rap their left breasts.

As Safir and Kai left, Rogero lingered. “General, I’m going to be escorting Captain Bradamont to the landing field. She’s taking a shuttle up to the light cruiser
Osprey
, which will take her to
Midway
.”

“Good.” Drakon gave Rogero a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry you two keep getting separated.”

“It’s not nearly as bad as it was during the war,” Rogero pointed out.

“Why isn’t she going to
Pele
? Bradamont was a battle cruiser commander for the Alliance. I remember hearing that battle cruiser types in the Alliance looked down on battleships.”

“They do,” Rogero said. “Swift and agile versus slow and clumsy, attack versus defense, is how Honore explained it to me. But her assignment is to command the entire force, if necessary.
Pele
might have to make some risky attacks.”

“So she has to stay on the battleship, so she can survive and continue to command the fight.” Drakon nodded in understanding. “We know how that goes. The hardest thing can be standing back and keeping an eye on the big picture when you want to throw yourself into the fight. She’s a good officer, isn’t she?”

“The Syndicate never could beat them.”

“No.” Drakon snorted, gazing at one wall, not really focusing on anything as he remembered too many battles in too many places. “They couldn’t beat us, either. What do you suppose would have happened if Black Jack hadn’t shown up?”

“Both sides would have kept fighting until everyone like you, me, and Honore Bradamont was dead, and then everything would have fallen apart,” Rogero said.

“Yeah.” Drakon looked at Rogero. “Tell Captain Bradamont good luck from me, and that I expect her to kick the butts of any enigmas or Syndicate warships that show up here.”

Rogero grinned and saluted again. “Yes, sir.”

But the smile faded before he reached the door and Rogero turned his head to look at Drakon again. “Sir? What do you think they’ll find at Iwa?”

“I think,” Drakon said, “that you and I are very lucky we aren’t at Iwa. The enigmas have never left any survivors.”

“Taroa is rebuilding from the damage suffered during its rebellion and civil war, but with Ulindi leaderless it won’t be able to contribute any help to us anytime soon.”

“President Iceni and I have a plan for Ulindi,” Drakon said. “I’m going over to her offices now to see if we can make it happen.”

*   *   *

TWO
comfortable chairs faced a blank wall. Iceni took one, Drakon the other. “Are you sure about this?” he asked.

“No.” She gave him a look. “You have the right to veto it.”

“I know.” Drakon sat back, trying to relax himself, and trying to decide if he really wanted to exercise that veto. “I saw what things are like on Ulindi. The snakes did their best to gut that star system of anyone who could run things.”

“And he can run things,” Iceni said. “Our sources in Syndicate space have confirmed his story to some extent. But uncertainties remain.”

“Ulindi needs a strong hand,” Drakon said. “Let’s get this over with.”

Iceni tapped a control and the blank wall vanished, turning into a virtual window that covered the entire wall so that the room seemed to have more than doubled in size. Now visible was the inside of a cell designed for VIP prisoners. Not exactly comfortable, but not a living hell, either. The cell boasted a decent bed as well as a chair, both fastened securely to the floor and the chair facing toward where Drakon and Iceni sat, but not much more except for the vast array of sensors that kept continuous watch on the cell’s occupant.

CEO Jason Boyens, alerted by the change in light to the virtual window, sat up on the bed, then stood carefully. He looked a little haggard, which wasn’t too surprising given that he had spent some time wondering if at any moment he would be taken out and executed. Boyens walked toward the virtual window, facing Iceni and Drakon. “It’s nice to have visitors. I’m glad to see you survived the trap at Ulindi, Artur.”

“I wouldn’t have been in nearly as much danger,” Drakon said, “if you’d spilled your guts about the Syndicate trap at Ulindi before I left.”

“But I did tell you. Or rather, I told Gwen here.” Boyens gestured toward her. “Apparently, my warning came in time. But I don’t think you’re here to thank me.”

Iceni’s smile flicked on and off so rapidly that it was barely visible. “No, Jason. We’re here to say good-bye.”

Boyens stiffened, swallowed, then nodded. “Why the forewarning? To make me suffer as I wait for the end?”

“You misunderstand, Jason,” Iceni continued. “We’re letting you go.”

That was a bit too much even for someone experienced in the often-lethal cat-and-mouse games of Syndicate CEOs. Boyens swayed slightly, then put one hand on the chair beside him. “If you’re playing with me, you’re doing a good job. May I sit down?”

“Please.”

Boyens took his seat, then looked at Drakon. “You were always the straightforward sort, Artur. What’s the deal?”

Drakon smiled, too, deliberately letting Boyens see grim amusement. “Just as Gwen said. What you told us about the Syndicate wanting your hide on the wall appears to be true, and since we’ve let the Syndicate know through various unofficial means that their trap failed at Ulindi because you warned us about it, we can be pretty confident that you won’t try to make nice with the Syndicate again anytime soon.”

“How nice of you to give me credit,” Boyens said. “If the Syndicate gets its hands on me now they’ll turn me over to Happy Hua with instructions to make sure my end is painful and prolonged.”

“Happy Hua won’t serve the Syndicate anymore,” Iceni said. “She died at Ulindi.”

The smile on Boyens’s face was unquestionably genuine. “What a shame. We all do what we have to do, but she enjoyed it. Too bad the Syndicate still has plenty of other cold-blooded killers to employ. What is it you want from me?”

“We want you to go to Ulindi,” Drakon said.

Boyens, as skilled at CEO backstabbing as he was, still looked floored by the statement. “Ulindi? Did you tell them I was responsible for what happened there?”

“No.” Drakon took a deep breath, remembering things seen at Ulindi. “How much did you know about the trap there? You told us that you only knew it was intended to draw us in and hit us with hidden military forces. Is that all you knew?”

“That’s all I knew. It wasn’t a plan I was supposed to have any role in, so I wasn’t even supposed to know the plan existed. But enough people were gabbing about it that I could make out the outlines.”

Boyens could not see the readouts visible to Iceni and Drakon. He would have known his cell contained numerous sensors which monitored every aspect of his body, something useful for maintaining a picture of a prisoner’s health but also extremely helpful in determining if someone was lying. The readouts told Drakon that Boyens hadn’t lied just now. That wasn’t always helpful, because anyone given secrets was also given techniques for outwitting such sensors by phrasing answers in just the right way or simply refusing to answer at all. But in this case Boyens had answered clearly and unambiguously.

Drakon nodded. “It’s lucky for you that you didn’t know more. As part of their preparations for the trap, the Syndicate wanted to ensure that no one at Ulindi would cause them any problems. The snakes carried out mass arrests.”

“Naturally.”

“And they murdered everyone they arrested.”

“They—?” Boyens inhaled sharply. “That’s insane. They must have gutted Ulindi’s upper ranks, and middle ranks, and—” He stared at Drakon. “There’s a leadership vacuum at Ulindi, and you want me to go there?”

“That’s right.” Drakon smiled again. “We’re giving you the chance to be the person who starts putting Ulindi back together.”

“You’re putting me in charge of Ulindi?” Boyens didn’t seem able to grasp the idea.

“No,” Iceni said with a low laugh. “We’re not in charge at Ulindi. We couldn’t force a ruler on them, and we don’t want to. The last thing they need or
want
is another Syndicate CEO.” Her expression shifted to a glare. “Do you understand? Anyone who shows up at Ulindi acting the CEO is going to get torn to pieces by the mob, which is very upset by the atrocities the snakes committed before those snakes got a taste of their own medicine at the hands of General Drakon’s forces. But the people at Ulindi desperately need someone who can help form a decent government, help the star system get back on its feet, and help establish the means for Ulindi to stay independent of the Syndicate.”

“I don’t understand.” Boyens looked from Iceni to Drakon and back again, as if seeking some answers in their expressions. “What exactly is your goal? What is it I am expected to do? Because I have no doubt that you’ll have safeguards in place to ensure that if I do the wrong thing I won’t enjoy it for long.”

“Our goal,” said Drakon, “is a strong Ulindi. That means no dictator diverting resources in order to keep the people in line. No attempts to continue the wasteful and corrupt Syndicate system under another name. But it also means a government strong enough to get things done, a government not dependent on any one man or woman, and able to handle any crisis that comes along, including attacks from more than one source.”

“Oh, I thought you were asking me to do something difficult!” Boyens lowered his head, rubbing his face with one hand, then looked back at them. “You really think I can do that?”

“You’re good at what you do, Jason,” Iceni said. “You couldn’t have survived this long while double-crossing and triple-crossing so many people without being a very smart operator.”

“But how does anyone form a strong government without just
telling everyone what to do and enforcing it with the sort of things the Syndicate does?”

“We can offer you some pointers.” She cocked her head slightly to one side, eyeing Boyens. “What’s the matter? Is this beyond your ability?”

Boyens laughed. “I’m good enough to spot that simple kind of manipulation, Gwen. So, you’re giving me a chance to remake Ulindi and get that star system back on its feet after the Syndicate cut it off at the knees. And if I start murdering my opponents and firing on the mob you’ll have me taken out by some of the agents you doubtless have hidden on Ulindi. Or you’ll send in a battleship and tell my loyal subjects to turn me over or else, which I’m sure those subjects would do without hesitating if I haven’t engendered some loyalty in them. What do I get out of this?”

“Your life,” Drakon said.

“And a chance to build something,” Iceni said. “What would it feel like to be the founder of a new state at Ulindi? To be remembered for what you built there? You’ll get power, and probably wealth, out of the deal. But you’ll also get the right to feel a little self-respect again. Let me tell you from personal experience that is not a bad thing.”

Boyens didn’t reply for a long moment, his eyes on Iceni. “I always thought you were ruthless and clever, Gwen,” he finally said, “but I never realized how tough you were. And, you, Artur, always sticking your neck out. I figured Gwen would have you taken out sooner or later, if the snakes didn’t get you first. But I didn’t realize how smart you were. And now you two are offering me not just freedom but a chance to do something with it. Oh, I know what’s going on. For all of your talk about acting differently than the Syndicate, you two are playing the same old game. You’re handing me an impossible task, expecting me to fail, so you can blame me. And if somehow I succeed then you’ll take the credit for it. But you’re right that I can’t run back to the Syndicate. Fine. I know that Midway is going to be the big dog in any relationship with Ulindi.
I can work with that. I can work with you. You two can be the senior partners. If this is the deal, I accept.”