Imperfect Sword

Chapter Thirteen

“The fighting in the Syndicate lines is dying down,” Colonel Safir reported.

Malin nodded to Drakon. “Yes, sir. We’re seeing indications that at most spots, the fighting is ending.”

“Are we seeing any indications as to who won?” Drakon asked pointedly.

“No, sir. There’s still fighting going on opposite sector two, and we’re spotting movement of soldiers from sectors one and three converging on the areas where combat is still under way.”

“That sounds like someone is in command.” Drakon pointed to the comm specialist. “Try to punch a message through to the Syndicate soldiers. Use the standard frequencies and codes from before we revolted. They should be able to read those.”

“What do you intend doing, General?” Safir asked.

“I intend finding out what’s going on before I decide what else to do. There are times to be bold, but this isn’t one of them. We’re still just two brigades, and even though we’ve done a lot of damage to the Syndicate forces out there, we’ve taken plenty of damage ourselves, and we still don’t know how many soldiers they had to start with. They could still outnumber us, they could still have reserves that are heading this way right now, and for all we know, the loyalists out there finished off the soldiers who revolted.”

“Our position is still tenuous,” Colonel Kai agreed.

Drakon saw Malin smile at that. Kai would have felt their position was tenuous if they had ten times the numbers of the enemy and were dug into the best fortifications humanity had ever constructed.

But all Malin said was, “That could well be so.”

It took the comm specialist several minutes before he turned to Drakon. “General, I’ve established contact with an executive third class who is willing to talk with you.”

“Well, isn’t that nice of the executive,” Drakon grumbled. He knew he looked like someone who had been in his battle armor way too long through desperate fighting, but that was fine. Anyone whose appearance was perfect after supposedly leading troops under these conditions would very likely be a fake who wouldn’t be worth talking to.

The executive third class didn’t look as bad as Drakon, but she didn’t look anything like fresh and perky, either. “What’s a general?” she asked as her face’s image appeared before Drakon.

“CEO-equivalent,” Drakon said.

“Are you a CEO?”

The question came with enough heat behind it to cause Drakon to shade his reply. “I’m a general. My brigade commanders aren’t sub-CEOs. They’re colonels. We stopped being Syndicate a while back. We stopped acting like Syndicate a while back.”

“You don’t look like a CEO,” the executive admitted. “Are there any snakes in there with you?”

“None that are still alive that we know of. We’re still screening prisoners to see if we can spot any snake agents hidden among them.”

“Prisoners?” The executive said the word as if it were totally foreign and incomprehensible to her. “You took prisoners? What, from the brigade that was supposed to hold that base?”

“A lot of them, yeah,” Drakon said. “Others from one of the attacks you people launched on us. We sent out a counterattack and brought in a couple hundred, plus about forty wounded.”

“You— Who are you? We were told that you were traitors trying to set up some warlord arrangement, working for a rogue CEO.”

Drakon grinned. “That’s what your CEO and the snakes told you? Did you believe them?”

“No.” The executive grinned back, a baring of teeth that was only partly about humor. “But all that tells me is that they lied, which I already knew. It doesn’t tell me who you really are.”

“Fair enough,” Drakon said. “We fight for the free and independent star system of Midway. The Syndicate no longer rules there. There are no snakes there.”

“Then who is in charge there?”

“President Iceni. Me.” Drakon felt ridiculous saying the next words, but they were increasingly true. “And the people.”

“The people?” The executive laughed. “Do you think I’m that stupid?”

“No,” Drakon said. “Actually, you’re impressing me. What’s your name?”

“Executive Third Class Gozen,” the woman said, both face and voice defiant.

“Well, Executive Third Class Gozen, who’s in charge out there? You?”

“I’m in charge of what’s left in this part of the line.”

“What about the snakes with you?”

“As of three minutes ago, there aren’t any snakes with us. Except for dead ones.”

Drakon nodded, smiling. “It looks like we have something in common.”

“You and I might, but not the units opposite me,” Gozen said. “The snakes won there. We just wiped out a last pocket of them over here and are setting up defenses on each side facing out.”

“Do you want any help dealing with those units opposite you?”

Executive Gozen gazed at Drakon with a flat expression. “Look… General… I may not want any snakes shooting me for not being happy at charging into another senseless attack, but that doesn’t mean I want to help you kill people in units that are part of my division. They’re stuck over there, maybe some of them helped the snakes, I don’t know, but others literally have guns to their heads forcing them to keep fighting. So, no, I don’t want your help killing more of my comrades.”

Drakon nodded again. “You seem to have quite an attitude problem, Executive Gozen.”

“You’re not the first person to tell me that.”

“All right. You’ve been straightforward with me, I’ll be straightforward with you. We came to Ulindi to get rid of Supreme CEO Haris. We thought he had rebelled against the Syndicate, but apparently that was part of a plan to lure us here.”

Gozen shook her head. “I don’t know anything about that. I haven’t heard of any Haris. My unit only landed three days ago. What’s a Supreme CEO?”

“Beats me,” Drakon said. “Anyway, we didn’t come here to conquer the place, or to die. We came here to get rid of the snakes and let the locals decide how they should run things.”

“Wow. You do think I’m stupid.”

“Executive Gozen, I don’t have forever to talk to you before I make up my mind what to do. I’d advise you to listen,” Drakon said. “Midway doesn’t have enough ground forces and firepower to conquer and control other star systems. We can help other star systems get rid of the Syndicate and the snakes, but we can’t impose our own rule. Trying to occupy and garrison Ulindi is beyond our means, but in any case, we don’t want to. We had too much of that under the Syndicate. Taking out the Syndicate here at Ulindi was a defensive move by us to remove a nearby threat. Give us credit for being able to recognize that action was in our self-interest. If you’re going to stop fighting us, if you’re going to stop trying to support the Syndicate, I don’t care what you do as long as you don’t try to set yourself up as a warlord who’s a danger to nearby star systems that Midway has pledged to help defend. But I cannot allow functional, loyal Syndicate ground forces to remain active on this planet and in this star system.”

Executive Gozen looked back at Drakon for a few moments before replying. “You don’t have the firepower? You do know there’s a battleship in orbit, right?”

“Yeah. That’s ours. It’s new. It wasn’t supposed to be operational yet.”

“It’s operational.”

“So I understand. It could bombard this planet until there was nothing left, but it can’t control the planet or the people on it. And it’s not going to stay here. It’s going home with us because we need that battleship to defend Midway. So tell me, what are you going to do, Executive Gozen?”

“You’re using Syndicate equipment. Have you got any good code monkeys… General?”

“As a matter of fact,” Drakon said, “I have some of the best damned code monkeys in human-occupied space.”

“Really?” Gozen grinned for real this time. “How do you know that?”

“They’ve told me that more times than I can count.”

“I can send you a virus,” Gozen said, suddenly all business. “We’ve been blocked from linking with anybody on the other side where the snakes are still in charge. If you can figure out how to get this virus into their network, it will identify snakes for you with a distinctive symbol on battle armor targeting displays.”

“That could come in handy.” Drakon said. “What’s the deal? What do you want in exchange for it?”

“If you go in against them, you kill the snakes. No one else.”

“What if someone else is shooting at us?”

“Look… just do your best. Say you’ll do your best. I’ll take that.”

“Why?” Drakon asked.

“Because…” Gozen made a face. “Because you’ve listened to me and explained things, when the sort of commanders I’ve been dealing with would have long since told me to shut up and comply. And because the soldiers I’ve got over here are good, they’re good men and women and they know their jobs and they are brave, but a lot of their friends have died, and they have been pushed past all limits, they’re disorganized, exhausted, and burnt-out right now. I can’t get at the snakes holding the rest of what’s left of our division hostage, and I don’t think I can stop them, or you, if an attack comes. That’s why.”

“You’ve been bluffing this whole time?” Drakon asked. “Seriously?”

“Yes, sir, honored CEO,” Gozen said.

“Executive, I don’t know what you want to do when this is all over, but if you’re looking for a job and pass the security screening, I would really like to have an officer of your caliber. Now, I’ll have my comm specialist bounce you a link to send that virus over, and we’ll see if my people can make those snakes light up.”

“You just offered me a job?” Gozen laughed. “You must be a glutton for punishment.”

“You’re not the first person to tell me that.”

“All right, General. I’ll tell you one other thing I’ll do for you. I’ll try to get word across to the soldiers still under snake control that you guys take prisoners. That ought to help both of us, right? They won’t fight as hard, and more of the ones who are still alive will stay that way. Let me know before you go on the attack, so I can make sure you know where my lines are.”

“Do you know where your former CEO and his command staff are?” Drakon asked.

“That I don’t mind giving you,” Gozen said. A coordinate appeared on Drakon’s display. “That is where the exalted CEO Nassiri and his staff was in place. You will note that it is in a comfortable building a ways back from the front lines.”

“And there’s a bar nearby,” Drakon said as his display located the building on the city map that matched the coordinates.

“Yes, sir. Convenient for the CEO, huh?” Gozen looked to one side, listening. “Got to go, General. Give me that link and remember what I asked in exchange for it.”

“I don’t forget that sort of thing,” Drakon said just before Gozen’s image disappeared.

Drakon pointed a finger at his comm specialist. “We need a link passed to that executive which can be used to download a file that will be quarantined and sent to the code apes.”

“I’m on it, General.”

“Sir,” Malin said, a frown uncharacteristically making his feelings clear, “we should treat everything regarding any alleged Syndicate rebels with extreme caution.”

“I’m aware of that,” Drakon said. “Is there something in particular about Executive Gozen that concerns you?”

“She clearly impressed you, General, just as Executive Ito impressed Colonel Rogero.”

“She wasn’t trying to impress me,” Drakon pointed out, “unlike Executive Ito, who acted like a puppy happy to find a new owner. Don’t worry, Bran. If Gozen wants to join us, she’ll get a full security screening. For now, I want you to contact the guards for our prisoners. Have them ask if anyone knows Executive Gozen.”

Malin frowned again, this time in thought. “To confirm that Gozen is not a snake agent?”

“No. If she’s that good, they wouldn’t know. If we find any, I want to release one or two of them and send them back to Gozen so she’ll know we really took prisoners. If we can get the former Syndicate soldiers with her to submit to us, it could save some of our own people’s lives, and from what I saw of her, Gozen will be able to convince them to do what she says.”

“But, General,” Malin tried again, “someone with that kind of behavior toward her superiors could not possibly have survived in the Syndicate system. Unless she was a snake.”

“That’s a good point, and I’ll want to know what kept her from being shipped off to a labor camp. Now call those guards.”

“Yes, sir.”

It took ten minutes for the code apes to call back. “Can you do it, Sergeant Broom?” Drakon asked.

“Yes, General. It’s a nice worm. It’s a beautiful worm. We just have to use a horse to get it into the Syndicate network.”

“A horse?”

“A Trojan horse,” Broom explained. “I hear there’s a prisoner going to be released? Sent back to the ones that killed all of their snakes?”

“How did you— Never mind. Stop hacking the private command circuits.”

“Yes, sir,” Sergeant Broom said. “I mean, no, sir, that would be improper spying on my superiors.”

“Which is exactly the sort of thing the Syndicate liked to order you to do when we were under Syndicate command. I mean it. Mess around with other systems to find vulnerabilities all you want, but if you find any more back doors into my private command circuits, I want them shut and locked. But what does releasing a prisoner to Executive Gozen’s group have to do with—” Drakon smiled with sudden understanding. “We send back another prisoner?”

“To the other side, yes, sir. They don’t know we talked to Executive Gozen. We say we don’t know what’s going on, but there are obviously two factions, and can we make a deal with you if the other guys are still hard-core Syndicate? Not really. But the prisoner we send to the snake side has a very special present hidden in their battle armor’s systems, and when the snakes link with them to find out what the former prisoner can tell them, they open a path for our little friend here.”

Drakon nodded. “The snake firewalls won’t stop it?”

“They won’t see it,” Sergeant Broom said. “Nor will the security sharks guarding the network software. It will be totally stealthy thanks to its being embedded in an innocuous program that is so uninteresting nothing will notice it.” He smiled and tapped his helmet where the comm link was located. “I call the program my Serge Protector.”

“I see. Good.” Drakon fixed the sergeant with a glare. “If I have our systems screened to see if this innocuous-seeming software is anywhere in our systems, I won’t find anything, will I?”

“No, sir. Absolutely not. You won’t find anything when you run that scan.”

“Even if I ran it right now?” Drakon asked, seeing the reaction that question provoked. “Sergeant, you are valuable to me because you think and work outside the box. That’s why I got you out of that Syndicate labor camp just before you were going to be shot for hacking into the wrong network.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll never forget your getting me out of there alive,” Broom said. “You told me you needed someone who would spot things that no one else would in places that no one else would think to look, and I’ve been doing that.”

“And you do it very well,” Drakon said. “The Syndicate didn’t get anywhere in our systems that I didn’t want them to be before we revolted, and neither did the snakes. More importantly, they couldn’t tell that there were parts of our systems that they weren’t seeing. That took one hell of a good programmer to pull off. And you and your people have spotted every attempted intrusion into our systems since then. But if you wander too far outside the box, it becomes a problem for me, and that means it becomes a problem for you. I’m not going to order you to be shot like your last boss did, but I need to know you’re not getting into stuff that would make both of us unhappy. Maybe when Colonel Morgan gets back, I’ll have her run some checks on your work.”

“Colonel Morgan? That’s really not necessary, sir.”

“I’ll think about it,” Drakon said. Sooner or later, word might get around that Morgan was presumed dead, but until then, fear of her would remain useful. “Right now, let’s find a prisoner who meets our needs and get his systems loaded with our special delivery for the snakes.”

It took about twenty more minutes to set up the whole thing, while Drakon alerted both Kai and Safir to be ready to sally out if the snake-controlled Syndicate soldiers launched attacks on the rebellious soldiers commanded by Executive Gozen. “Colonel Safir,” he said, as they once again gathered for a virtual conference, “when the worm has been delivered, we’re going to hit the snakes opposite your positions. They need to be priority targets. If we can take them down, resistance from the remaining Syndicate ground forces should collapse.”

Colonel Malin indicated points on the display’s map. “We acquired a large supply of additional chaff rounds from the stockpiles in this base. We’ll be able to screen your approach to the Syndicate positions.”

“Have we got enough chaff to extend the coverage for another twenty meters to each side?” Safir asked. “According to this plan, we’re going in against the center of the still-loyal Syndicate troops. I don’t want to catch flanking fire as we charge.”

“That’s a good idea,” Drakon said. “Do we have enough chaff to do that?”

Malin frowned as he checked the stocks. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. We’ll have your flanks covered, Colonel. Penetrate the center, wipe out the snakes there, then pivot your troops to both sides and roll up the rest of the Syndicate loyalists before they can throw up internal lines of defense.” He pointed to lines bisecting the rows of buildings. The Syndicate positions in the ruined buildings facing the base formed a large square, the square now divided, with about two-thirds loosely held by the recent mutineers and the remaining third along one of the sides and part of another side held by the still-loyal Syndicate soldiers, their defenses now facing both inward at Drakon’s troops and cutting across the lines of the square to face the rebellious troops. “These mark the positions held by Executive Gozen’s soldiers. Make sure your soldiers don’t shoot at anyone on or beyond those lines.”

“No problem, General, as long as they aren’t shooting at us. Speaking of which, while we’re rolling up these loyalists, are my people allowed to shoot at Syndicate soldiers who aren’t snakes?” Safir asked.

“Yes,” Drakon said. “Anybody who is shooting at them. The best information we have is that the ground forces still under snake control are not happy or highly motivated, so there’s a good chance you won’t encounter much resistance except from the snakes themselves. The fact that the snakes haven’t tried to hit Executive Gozen’s positions is a pretty clear sign that the soldiers they still control are unreliable or worn-out or both. But if they fight us, you are authorized to deal with resistance from any source.”

“Good.” Safir grimaced. “I’ve been resting my guys in shifts, but they are pretty tired, too, General. If we hit anything hard, they might stumble.”

“I understand. Both sides in this fight are reeling. But we’ve got enough left in us for a good punch that should knock out what’s left of our opponents.” He indicated the virtual map again. “The remaining Syndicate forces are spread a lot thinner than we were defending this base. They’ve taken heavy losses, and have a lot more frontage to cover. We should have a much easier time breaking their line than they had trying to break ours.”

Colonel Kai studied the plan. “What if Executive Gozen sends her soldiers after us while Colonel Safir is attacking the snakes?”

“Then you take care of them,” Drakon said. “Your brigade will peel off a few units to help cover the area of the base perimeter that Colonel Safir’s soldiers will be vacating during their attack, but you’ll have plenty of troops left facing Gozen’s positions if she tries to stab us in the back. I’ll be very surprised if that happens, but your brigade is insurance if it does.”

“How do we know if the worm has made it into the snake systems?” Safir asked.

“We’re employing our Trojan horse prisoner for that, too. Our code apes are using him to also sneak in a linked worm that will trick the Syndicate comm systems into sending a single microburst that will alert us when the snake-targeting worm is in place. That microburst will be our signal to attack.”

Safir suddenly laughed despite the fatigue lining her face. “Let’s see if I have that right, General. When the worm from the apes tells us the snakes are lit up by our horse, we attack.”

He couldn’t help smiling. “Exactly. You might want to phrase it differently when you brief your assault force, though.”

“No, sir. That’s exactly how I want to tell it to them. They’ll remember that, no matter how tired they are.”

“General,” Kai said, “would it not be wiser to simply have the Midway bombard those buildings held by the loyalists? We could wipe them out without any risk to us.”

“That’s true,” Drakon said. “But the loyalists might see the bombardment coming with enough time to evacuate into the next row of buildings behind them, the ones they occupied before. If I know snakes, they’ve been refusing to allow any retreat by the soldiers who are still loyal to the Syndicate. But if they see a big bombardment coming down on their heads, they’ll all run, and if those units get out into the city, we’ll have the human resource director’s own time trying to catch them.”

Safir nodded. “I’d rather finish it now. Did you know that people used to say the devil instead of the human resource director?”

“What’s the devil?” Kai asked.

“Something like a human resource director, I guess.”

“There’s another factor,” Drakon said. “Executive Gozen, and the soldiers with her, don’t want more of their comrades to die than necessary. Flattening those buildings in an attempt to kill everyone in them would make us look like someone who couldn’t be trusted and doesn’t care any more for human life than the Syndicate CEOs. Some of the survivors from this division may help form the core of a new defense force for Ulindi, and I want them to see us as trustworthy.”

“And not see us as Syndicate,” Colonel Kai said. “I understand. I was not aware of all of the issues that long-term planning had to take into account.”

“When are we doing this, General?” Safir asked.

“As soon as you’re ready. It’s important to hit the snakes before they can rest too long.”

Safir could be seen scanning her display, reviewing data on her soldiers. “Fifteen minutes, to brief my people, get them fully supplied for the assault, and get them in position.”

Drakon nodded. “Good. Colonel Malin, prepare to release the prisoners. I want them walking toward their respective parts of the line out there in exactly fifteen minutes.”

“What about the division’s CEO and his staff?” Malin asked. “Do we ask Midway to take them out?”

“I don’t know if they’re still in the location they occupied before Executive Gozen’s contact with them was severed. Wherever they are, once we take the rest of the Syndicate line out, I expect the CEO to stampede for safety with part of the staff. Midway will spot the vehicles or shuttles, and I’ll decide what to do from there. All right. Let’s go.”

Fifteen minutes later, Drakon watched in separate virtual windows as one freed prisoner walked slowly, hands held out and open, toward the positions held by Executive Gozen’s soldiers, and another freed prisoner in the same posture stepped toward the Syndicate positions still controlled by the snakes.

“It is always possible,” Malin murmured to Drakon, “that the snakes will simply shoot the prisoner rather than interrogate.”

“I thought of that,” Drakon said. “But I think the snakes are desperate to find out more about our status, and the only way they can get that information is by talking to that prisoner we just sent them.”

The prisoner who was headed for the positions controlled by the snakes clearly wasn’t as confident as Drakon about the reception awaiting him. He kept stumbling over the many imperfections in the fought-over and bombarded ground, his hands held as high as he could.

Drakon saw the first freed prisoner reach Executive Gozen’s positions and be brought in.

The second freed prisoner reached a spot just outside the Syndicate positions and stood there, apparently reacting to instructions.

“Stand by with the chaff rounds,” Drakon said. “Colonel Safir, get ready to go.”

“The snakes haven’t brought the prisoner in yet, General,” Malin protested.

“They’re not going to,” Drakon said. “I just realized what they’re doing. They’re going to do a remote interrogation using comm circuits, then kill him to avoid the risk that he is loaded with some kind of physical weapon.” He felt sick at the thought that he had ordered the prisoner to his death that way, but until this moment had not imagined that even the snakes would be that paranoid. “They’re snakes. Why the hell didn’t I expect them to act like snakes?”

Malin’s hands hovered over the firing commands for the chaff rounds. “General, none of us—”

“General, the microburst just came in!” the comm specialist reported.

“Fire,” Drakon said to Malin. “Colonel Safir, we’re launching chaff.”

The chaff rounds were being fired before he finished the sentence.

The freed prisoner stumbled backward, then fell.

“They shot him just before we launched,” Malin said.

“He’ll be the last victim of those snakes,” Drakon growled. “Safir, go when you’re ready.”

The chaff rounds were blooming in front of the Syndicate positions, throwing out every manner of decoy. Safir shouted “At them! For Colonel Gaiene!” then, with an ululating cry, led her assault force against the Syndicate positions.

A barrage of fire met them, the defenders firing blindly into the chaff and scoring few hits. Drakon had called up a view from Safir’s armor, seeing the smoke and assorted decoys from the chaff clouds looming ahead, then Safir plunged into the chaff, and he lost the link. The only information he still had was an estimated position on her based on her last-known rate of progress.

“What’s going on elsewhere, Bran?” Drakon asked, not wanting to take his attention away from Safir’s assault.

“It’s quiet in the sectors facing Executive Gozen’s forces,” Colonel Malin replied. “We haven’t picked up any artillery coming in yet against Colonel Safir’s attack.”

“The Midway did a lot of damage to the Syndicate artillery,” Drakon said. “Our assault should be clearing the chaff any second now.”

His display flickered, updated, flickered again, then steadied. Once again, he had a clear view from Safir’s battle armor in the seconds before the attack hit the Syndicate positions.

The weapons of the defenders had been ineffective while firing blindly into the chaff. With the attack clearing the chaff, the defenders had a short period in which they could use their targeting systems to fire with extreme accuracy against Safir’s troops. It was the moment Drakon had dreaded. Even though the Syndicate defenders were covering more ground with fewer people, and even though the defenders were exhausted from launching attacks for days, Safir’s soldiers could take a lot of casualties before reaching the Syndicate positions.

But in those few seconds, Drakon could see that most of the defenders’ fire was still badly aimed. Only a small percentage of the shots hit the attackers with the accuracy expected of targeting systems, most of the rest of the enemy fire going wide. They’re not trying to hit us, Drakon saw with relief. Had Gozen gotten word to the Syndicate soldiers that they could surrender and count on being taken prisoner? Or had the Syndicate soldiers been so badly used that they simply didn’t care anymore?

Scarcely impeded by the mostly ineffectual defensive fire, Safir’s soldiers crashed into the Syndicate line, in many cases literally smashing through what was left of ground-floor walls or into Syndicate soldiers who did not manage to dodge in time. To the naked eye, nothing distinguished the battle armor of regular ground forces from that of the snakes, but on the displays of Drakon’s soldiers, some of the enemy symbols glowed a poisonous green instead of the usual red. The green symbols vanished so rapidly they seemed to dissolve as the attackers pressed into the Syndicate positions, wiping out the snakes in this area.

As the last snake fell, weapons swung to bear on Syndicate soldiers, who themselves aimed at Drakon’s troops. For a long moment that lasted only a second or two, both sides held their fire, looking at each other.

Then Safir opened her helmet visor and yelled at the Syndicate soldiers. “We came here to kill snakes! Not you! Drop your weapons, and we’ll go finish off the snakes left on this side!”

Several Syndicate soldiers threw down their weapons, then others followed in a rush. “Third Company, guard our new friends!” Safir ordered, resealing her helmet. “First and Third Battalions, wheel right and hit them! Second and Fourth Battalions, follow me to the left!”

On both sides of the breach in the Syndicate lines, the attackers ran into disorder. The snakes had ordered the troops under their control to simultaneously shift fronts and counterattack toward the breach, which in theory would have been good tactics for hitting Drakon’s assault from both sides. But in practice, tired, reluctant Syndicate soldiers did not move quickly and surely, and the soldiers nearest the edges of the penetration had already begun falling back in disarray as the snakes nearest them were killed by the leading elements of the attackers. What should have been a fast change of facing and reinforcement turned into a tangled mass of soldiers who blocked each other and milled about in confusion. Snakes screamed new orders or demands to follow previous orders, adding to the chaos. Some of the snakes began firing at their own soldiers, the traditional Syndicate method to force compliance when all else failed, and many of the overwrought Syndicate troops began firing back, targeting not only the snakes but also any executives or other supervisors within reach.

Safir’s attacks ran into masses of Syndicate soldiers too busy fighting each other to pay much attention to Drakon’s forces. “Get the snakes!” Safir ordered, her soldiers taking up positions wherever they could get clean lines of sight and nailing snakes as fast as they could. “Split and go around this mess. Keep moving until you reach the lines held by Gozen’s people and don’t leave any snakes alive behind you!”

The attack split and split again, Safir’s soldiers breaking into smaller groups as they pressed through the broken buildings and dodged piles of rubble or strong points of resistance. Drakon felt pride as he watched them, knowing that regular Syndicate troops could not have operated that way, using initiative, speed, and adaptability to continue their assault while overrunning or isolating the defenders they encountered. But he had trained his soldiers to think for themselves, and it paid off in fights like this.

And everywhere Safir’s soldiers went, the poisonous green markers on their helmet displays that marked snakes went out like blown candles.

When the Third Battalion reached the line of defenders facing Gozen’s rebellious troops and wiped out the snakes there, the defenders simply dropped their weapons and ran toward their former comrades under Gozen’s command, hands held out and arms wide.

“Colonel?” a lieutenant asked. “Is it all right if they surrender to the other Syndicate ground forces?”

“The others aren’t Syndicate anymore,” Safir replied, her breath short from following her soldiers through the maze of shattered buildings. “Make sure they leave their weapons, though. And make sure none of them bolt into the city.”

By that time, Second Battalion had reached the other side of what had been the remaining Syndicate positions, where most of the Syndicate soldiers turned on the last snakes and helped wipe them out before putting down their weapons and standing with open hands.

The soldiers of Safir’s Second Battalion came to a halt, looking across a gap in the ruins at Gozen’s soldiers on the other side. Drakon waited to see if anyone would do something stupid, but after sizing each other up, the two sides backed slowly out of contact.

He pulled out the scale on his display, looking for symbols of still-active Syndicate soldiers or snakes, but as he watched, the last areas of resistance ceased fighting. “Send scouts into the buildings across the street,” Drakon ordered Safir. “Find out if there are any soldiers in those, and then spread your units through them to ensure none of the former Syndicate soldiers try to pull out and lose themselves in the city.”

Colonel Malin had a rare smile on his face. “You did it, General. Our sensors aren’t picking up any signs of resistance.”

“Keep monitoring activity until we know all of the last Syndicate loyalist soldiers have been disarmed and rounded up,” Drakon ordered. “I need—I need to answer this call from the Midway.”

The contrast between the recent visions of chaotic ground fighting amid ruins and the image of the neat, well-ordered bridge of the battleship was a jarring one. “What have you got, Kapitan?”

“General Drakon.” Kapitan Mercia waved to her own display. “There are two shuttles which have just lifted from a parking apron next to the location you asked us to watch. Really nice stealth jobs, but the amount of dust thrown up by all the fighting is letting us track them anyway. They are accelerating inland.”

The Syndicate CEO in charge of the ground forces division which had just ceased to exist had, as expected, decided that survival was the better part of valor. “Two shuttles,” Drakon said to Malin. “They must have left a lot of staff behind.”

“It is a Syndicate tradition in cases like this to abandon to their fates the workers and lower-ranking executives,” Malin commented.

“Kapitan Mercia,” Drakon said, “can you take out those two shuttles?”

“Anytime you want,” she replied. “If you want to minimize the chance of damage to whatever is below them, I can wait until they clear the city and nail them while they are over open country.”

“Will you be able to track them that far?”

“There’s enough dust and smoke extending out into open country for us to keep a solid track on them for about thirty kilometers from the city proper,” Mercia said.

“Then nail them when they clear the city,” Drakon said. “Are you seeing anything else up there that I should know about?”

“Personnel are fleeing from minor Syndicate military sites everywhere that we can see. We’ve stopped bombarding since I assume you will want a chance to get the abandoned equipment intact. We’ve identified very large numbers of what appear to be citizens in encampments outside the city you are in.”

“That explains why we didn’t see any civilians while we were fighting,” Drakon said. “I’m surprised. I didn’t expect Haris and his snakes to care how many civilians died.”

“I doubt the citizens were moved out of concern for their welfare,” Mercia said. “Very likely there were other reasons.” She studied something intently. “Those two shuttles will be over open country in thirty seconds. Hang on.”

Thirty seconds could feel like a long time when you were waiting through each one.

Mercia signaled a command. Hell-lance particle beams shot down from the battleship, spearing the two fleeing shuttles. “Both birds are dead. One down. Both down. Do you want the coordinates of the wreckage?”

“Later, if you please,” Drakon said, thinking that if things had gone differently, he might have been the one in a shuttle trying to escape, the Syndicate battleship swatting him from the sky with cold efficiency.

No. He would have died, but not that way, not running. Hopefully, like Conner Gaiene, on his feet, fighting to the end.

“Colonel Kai,” Drakon said, “send a company through the city to these coordinates. You should find the bulk of the Syndicate divisional staff there. Their CEO ran out on them and died. There may still be snakes among them. Round them up and see how much equipment, codes, and other useful things they will turn over to us intact.”

“General,” the comm specialist said, “Executive Gozen wishes to speak with you.”

“Put her on.”

Gozen’s face appeared before Drakon. The executive looked even more weary than before, displaying no evidence of joy in the day’s events. “It’s over, right, General?”

“Unless the Syndicate has more hidden units on this planet,” Drakon said.

“Nothing significant that I know of. They pulled in everything to hit you.” She smiled wryly. “Didn’t work.”

“No, it didn’t. Are you all right, Executive Gozen?”

“I’ll survive.” She gave him an intent look. “Are my workers going to be all right, General? No labor camps?”

“There are no labor camps at Midway. They were abolished, and they won’t be coming back.”

“That’s hard to believe, but you don’t have any reason to lie to me about it anymore. What will happen to them?”

“That’s up to them,” Drakon said. “Ulindi is going to need ground forces. I need replacements for the losses we sustained here. Or they can try to go home. I won’t stop them.”

Gozen’s brief smile was more like a grimace. “Home. That would be a ticket straight to a Syndicate labor camp for me. Are you going to disarm us?”

“Do I need to?”

“No, sir.”

“Then hang on to your weapons for now but stay within your positions. We are disarming the prisoners we took when we captured the portion of your lines the Syndicate still controlled, but we’ll turn those soldiers over to you if you want.”

“That would be a really nice gesture, General. I’ll let my soldiers know they’re going to have some real options for the first time in their lives. That’s going to feel strange.”

“You start to get used to it after a while,” Drakon said. “Just to be all formal and everything, are you submitting yourself and the soldiers under your command to my authority?”

Gozen took a deep breath, then nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“We’re still sorting out things inside the base. I want you to get in touch with Colonel Malin in about half an hour. Here’s his comm ID. Let him know what sort of support you need. Shelter, rations, that sort of thing. If you can tell us where other nearby stockpiles of such materiel can be found, it will help. How are you fixed for medical?”

“We can use any medical help you can provide, General,” Gozen said.

“We’ll get that moving.”

“Thank you.” Gozen’s control finally cracked a little, but she straightened and nodded to him again. “It’s been a long day, and I’ve got a lot yet to do.”

“No rush. We’re not going anywhere until our warships round up any of the freighters that brought us here that didn’t get destroyed.”

Gozen looked surprised. “You’re not going to take the troop transports?”

He tried not to look surprised in turn. “What troop transports? The ones that brought you here? Those are gone.”

“No. They’re not. I told you we got dropped here just a short time before you showed up. Troop transports aren’t the slugs that freighters are, but they weren’t fast enough to clear the star system before we were told you might show up. If you had seen them, it would have ruined the trap. Plus the CEO wanted them close. They were told to park themselves with the star between them and any of your ships until they got a recall.”

“The star?” Drakon said.

“Yeah. You know, that big, glowing thing up there? The star.”

“Troop transports are still there?” Something else that Gozen had said registered on him. “Why did the CEO want them close?”

“From what I heard,” Gozen said, “after we rolled up you guys on the ground, and the Syndicate flotilla wiped out your mobile forces, the plan was to load us up again fast and head for the star system that you came from. Us in the transports and the Syndicate flotilla as escorts. We were to hit whatever guys you’d left back there before they could even hear about what had happened to you and put an end to your revolt.” She concentrated. “I think… I remember hearing they were to stay within ten to fifteen light-minutes from us.”

Drakon stared at her as what Gozen had just told him filtered through his brain. “That was a pretty good plan.” Far too good a plan. “I’ll let you go now. Thank you, Executive Gozen. You’ve got my comm ID. Contact me directly if there are any problems.”

The moment her image vanished, Drakon made another call. “Kapitan Mercia, I have some very important information that you will want to relay to Kommodor Marphissa.”

Mercia blinked at him, trying to focus. There must have been some long days for the mobile forces as well. “What happened?”

“There are a bunch of Syndicate troop transports hiding behind the star, the same transports that brought the Syndicate ground forces division here. If they lifted an entire division at once, I’m guessing there will be between ten and twelve of them. They are supposed to be maintaining position within ten to fifteen light-minutes of this planet.”

Mercia froze for a second, then looked impressed. “Nice. Do you want working transports or wreckage?”

“As many working troop transports as possible.”

“I’m sure that the Kommodor will be happy to accommodate your request, General. She’s been coming on behind me with the cruisers that got beat up fighting the Syndicate, and our Hunter-Killers, and is almost here. Do you have any idea why the troop transports haven’t run for it already?”

“They had firm orders to stay near this planet, orders from that CEO whose shuttle you destroyed a short time ago. Now they’re probably hoping we go away without spotting them.”

“That could have happened if we’d stayed fairly close together,” Mercia said. “They could have just kept changing their positions to stay behind the star relative to us as this planet we’re at orbited. I’ll notify the Kommodor, General.”

That task done, Drakon finally sat down again, the chair creaking under the weight of his battle armor, and realized that he could finally take off his battle gear if he wanted. But first he keyed his general command circuit. “To all personnel. The fight is over but for the mopping up. Ulindi is ours. We’ve won. Well done. All of you. Very well done.”