Perilous Shield

Chapter Ten

Drakon had to pause, startled. “The battleship?”

“Of course,” Iceni said in a low voice. “We’ve tried to keep the battleship’s status secret, but there’s probably not a soul in this star system and every nearby star system who doesn’t know it still has a skeleton crew and is far from combat capable. They plan to swoop in, take the battleship, then haul it home to finish it.”

“Which is how we got the battleship from Kane in the first place.”

She gave him an aggravated look. “I fully intend that our theft of the battleship will be the last successful attempt to steal it. If Supreme CEO Haris wants to become a local power, he needs more firepower, and it looks like he’s trying to build that up the same way we are, by taking it from someone else less prepared to defend it. Why did Haris have to have a battle cruiser?”

“Is there any chance we can take them with what we’ve got?” Drakon asked.

Iceni shook her head impatiently. “Even if the Recovery Flotilla hadn’t hauled half of our strength with them, it would have been very touch-and-go to defeat a flotilla built around a battle cruiser.”

“Any ideas?” Drakon asked Malin.

“No good ones, sir,” Malin replied. “Our mobile forces are simply too badly outmatched. We could try sending the battleship somewhere else and leaving it there until Haris’s flotilla leaves.”

“We couldn’t have the battleship stay here and avoid that flotilla?” Drakon asked.

Iceni shook her head. “No battleship can outrun a battle cruiser. They’d be run down in fairly short order. The same thing might happen if we send the Midway to some other star system. Anyone else who saw it would see a perfect and very valuable target to acquire for themselves.”

“In that case,” Malin continued, “the best remaining option available to us may be to lure the battle cruiser close to the battleship, then blow up the battleship, taking the battle cruiser with it.”

“That is not an option!” Iceni insisted, her face flushing with anger. “We need that battleship.”

“Madam President,” Malin said, “if we have no other means of stopping Haris from taking the battleship, using it to eliminate his battle cruiser would at least leave him without the capability of threatening us.”

“And how much good will that do us when the Syndicate sends another flotilla here?” Iceni demanded.

Malin hesitated, then shook his head. “None, Madam President.”

“Blowing up both ships is a lousy option,” Drakon said, “but what else can we do?”

Iceni turned her frustration on him. “You tell me! You’re the military expert, General! I have some experience with mobile forces, but it wasn’t my career.”

“My experience is with ground forces,” Drakon pointed out, keeping his voice level. “I’ve been in this kind of situation before, where every option is bad, and it’s a matter of choosing the one that hurts the least. But we can’t change the reality of what we’re facing.”

She glared at him, then looked away, breathing in slowly and regaining control. “You can’t think of anything?”

Drakon barely masked his surprise at the disappointment he saw in her. Disappointment in him? She expected him to pull more mobile forces out of his hat to save the day? “I’ve got a few basic principles for how to fight. One of those principles is that it is a mistake to confront the enemy’s strength with your weakness, or his strength with your strength. Instead, you should confront the enemy’s weakness with your strength.”

“How can that work here?” Iceni asked.

“It can’t. Ground forces can’t take on mobile forces unless the mobile forces come to them and make themselves targets, and there’s no reason why—” He broke off, trying to figure out why his last statement felt very important.

“General?” Iceni said, studying him.

“Madam President,” Drakon said, his words coming out slowly as he mentally groped to uncover the idea hanging barely out of reach, “how will that battle cruiser try to capture the battleship?”

“There’s only one way to do it,” Iceni said. “Send a boarding party over. One large enough to defeat the skeleton crew on the battleship.”

“Using shuttles?”

“No. A single battle cruiser only has a few shuttles. They couldn’t carry nearly enough people for an attack, and if the battleship had even a few weapons working, the shuttles could make easy targets.”

“We used shuttles to capture that battleship at Kane,” Drakon pointed out.

“And,” Iceni added, tapping her forefinger hard against the desk to emphasize her words, “we were extremely worried that the shuttles would be destroyed on approach. We used them because we had to, but we knew we might lose them. I would not have chosen that method of attack if I had been able to launch an attack directly from my own warships. Not with only a few shuttles.”

“You need overwhelming force applied quickly,” Drakon said.

“Yes. Exactly. Is that so different from ground forces operations?”

“No.” Drakon looked into the distance, thinking. “I haven’t done any boarding operations. Walk me through what the battle cruiser will do.”

Iceni shrugged. “It’s pretty simple in this case. The battleship doesn’t have working weapons or a crew large enough to operate it. Running wouldn’t make any sense because the battle cruiser could easily overtake it. The battle cruiser will pull up close alongside the battleship, matching any movement so the two ships are motionless relative to each other. Then a boarding party will jump across the gap between the ships, arriving at several main hatches simultaneously, entering the battleship, and overwhelming any defenders. Kapitan-Leytenant Kontos and his crew can hole up inside the defensive citadels for the bridge, propulsion, and weapons, but the boarding party will be equipped with the means to crack open those citadels in fairly short order.”

“Close?” Drakon questioned. “How big a gap between ships?”

“Fifty meters. Maybe a hundred, depending on how risk-averse the battle cruiser’s commander is.”

“How big will the boarding party be?”

Iceni spread her hands. “That depends. A battle cruiser should have about fifteen hundred in the crew. Syndicate doctrine spells out how many to send in a boarding party based on the target and its condition but sets a maximum of half the available crew.”

“Seven hundred? Eight hundred maximum?” Drakon asked.

“If Haris’s commander follows Syndicate doctrine.”

Malin had gotten what Drakon was driving at. He smiled thinly. “Seven hundred mobile forces personnel in survival suits with hand weapons?”

“Yeah,” Drakon agreed. “Maybe some special forces among them, but that would only be a couple of platoons, at most.”

“One platoon, at most,” Iceni corrected. “And more likely Haris’s snakes than special forces. What are you thinking, General?”

“I’m thinking, Madam President, that if this comes down to a boarding operation, we’re dealing with a situation in which ground forces could balance the odds.” Drakon leaned toward her. “If that battleship were full of mobile forces personnel, we couldn’t pack it with armored ground forces. But it’s almost empty. There’s lots of room for soldiers. And if that battle cruiser can send its boarding party jumping across the gap between ships, my soldiers can jump that same gap onto the battle cruiser.”

“It’s not that simple.” Iceni bit her lip, her eyes calculating. “But it could be done. My mobile forces people can tell your people what defenses the battle cruiser would have against a counterboarding operation. It would have to be a total surprise, too. They couldn’t know we had a lot of soldiers waiting on the battleship.”

“Six days.” Drakon looked at Malin. “Can we do it? Can we get a substantial number of soldiers onto that battleship before our preparations can be spotted by Haris’s force when it arrives?”

Malin’s eyes were hooded as he ran through mental calculations, then he nodded. “I’ll have to confirm my estimate, sir, but we should be able to if we can get our people into orbit quickly. There’s a freighter in orbit, a converted passenger hauler, that’s getting ready to depart. If the President’s warships tell that freighter to wait, we can use it.”

Iceni turned to Togo. “Notify orbital control that the freighter is not to leave orbit.” She faced Drakon again. “You have no experience with boarding operations?”

“No. But I think we should try this, and I should command this operation.”

She bent her head, elbows resting on the table, forehead against her clenched hands, and said nothing for a couple of minutes. “Are you saying we should try it because it seems to be the only option?” she finally asked Drakon. “Or because it could work?”

“It’s not the only option. As Colonel Malin pointed out, we could blow up both ships. But I do think a counterboarding operation could work. If what you told me about what the battle cruiser will do is right, this is worth a try.”

“And if Haris only wants to destroy our battleship?”

Drakon thought about that, unhappy at the prospect. “We’d be screwed.”

“We’d lose the battleship,” Iceni said, “and everyone on it. Crew, soldiers, and whoever the on-scene commander was. General, we can’t afford to lose you.”

Drakon raised both eyebrows at her as he leaned back. “Was that an imperial we you used?”

“If you want to think of it that way.” Iceni scowled at him. “Who takes your place as ground forces commander if you died out there? Who takes your place as co-ruler? I’m not a fool. I know there are people who follow you who would not follow me. Someone else has to command this operation.”

“It’s nice to think that you don’t want anything to happen to me, but giving me orders—”

“I can’t make you see sense, and I can’t make you follow my orders, but I know I don’t have to.” Iceni nodded toward him. “You’re smart enough to know that I’m right.”

Drakon looked away, frowning. She’s brilliant. Openly praising me for being smart enough to know she’s right, so if I argue, I’ll be acting like I’m not so smart.

Colonel Malin cleared his throat. “Sir, Colonel Gaiene has conducted at least one boarding operation.”

“He has?” Drakon pondered that, grateful for the out that Malin’s suggestion offered. “He would be good for this operation. It calls for his talents.”

“Colonel Gaiene?” Iceni asked icily. “His talents? Does the operation involve consuming large quantities of alcohol and the attempted seduction of any female who comes within groping range of Gaiene?”

Drakon shook his head at her. “Conner Gaiene knows where to draw the line. He’s also good at exactly what this operation will require.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Iceni said.

“You know why he’s like he is. You also know how he did on Taroa.” Drakon rested his fist on the table between them. “I will not sideline Colonel Gaiene.”

She eyed him for a long moment. “Because he would not last long without responsibilities to tether him to some semblance of the man he once was?” Iceni finally asked.

Drakon hesitated, then made a deliberately vague gesture. “Because he can do it, because he’s the best officer for the job.”

“If Colonel Rogero were here, I might still argue the point. What about Colonel Kai?”

“Colonel Kai,” Malin said, “has no experience in space operations.”

Iceni looked downward for several seconds, then nodded. “All right. Gaiene can command.” She leaned close, her eyes on Drakon, and spoke very softly. “You have too many walking wounded on your staff, General.”

“War does that to people,” Drakon replied in the same low voice.

“Does that include you?”

“Hell, yes.”

She sat back again, her eyes on his. “This has to be my decision.”

“Why?”

“It’s mobile forces. If we do this, it involves a lot of your people. But ultimately, it’s a mobile forces action. It’s my responsibility to make the call.”

Drakon smiled crookedly. “You didn’t learn that while becoming a Syndicate CEO.”

“Taking responsibility for my decisions? No. I didn’t learn that from the Syndicate.” Iceni sighed. “I say we go with it.”

Drakon turned back to Malin. “Get in contact with Colonel Gaiene. Tell him a substantial part of his brigade has to be ready to lift yesterday. Full combat gear and supplies for two weeks. How much troop lift do we have?”

“We have plenty of shuttles,” Malin said.

“Have we told the freighter to remain in orbit?” Iceni asked Togo.

“Yes, Madam President.” There was no telling what Togo thought of the plan that had just been decided upon. “It was supposed to have left for Kahiki in another hour, but it was told to hold off departing. The freighter’s executive has registered a protest.”

“Oh, dear. A protest.” Iceni laughed. “Tell the executive that freighter has just been chartered, and the executive can either accept the charter with grace and the chance of reward, or . . .”

Togo almost smiled. “The executive will certainly understand the consequences of refusing an offer from the President.”

“General,” Malin said, looking up from his data pad, “if we load in less than eight hours, the freighter should be able to reach the gas giant with less than a day to spare.”

“Then let’s see how many troops we can pack into it in eight hours,” Drakon ordered. “And get everyone and everything off the freighter that we don’t need.”

After Malin had left to pass on the orders, Drakon held up a hand to forestall Iceni. “Can we talk privately?”

She looked toward Togo and pointed at the door. Togo hesitated, then nodded and walked out. “What do you need?”

“I need to know what the problem is the last few days. Did someone tell you I planted that bomb at your desk?”

Iceni smiled humorlessly. “Of course someone did. I have no evidence to support that charge, though.”

“It looks like you believe it,” Drakon said, his voice sounding rougher than he had intended.

“I— Why are you saying that?”

“The way you’re acting toward me,” Drakon said bluntly. “Look, I understand that you don’t like me. If that’s the way it is, fine. But I thought we could work together.”

Iceni looked back at him, perplexed. “You think I don’t like you?”

“I’m not a fool.”

“On that point, we may be in serious disagreement, General Drakon.”

“What?”

She sighed, looked upward as if beseeching aid from the deities they had been taught not to believe in, then back at Drakon. “I don’t don’t like you.”

“What?” Drakon said again. “You don’t don’t like me?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Can you explain what it means?”

“It means we can work together,” Iceni said, looking exasperated. “Artur, you can’t be that big an idiot!”

Is she trying to make me angry? Something clicked in his head. “Hold on, if you don’t don’t like me—”

“Ancestors!” Iceni cried, looking upward again. “Save me!” She glared at Drakon. “I must be a bigger idiot than you are!”

His anger grew in response to hers. “What in the hell are you talking about?”

“Perhaps you’ll figure it out before one of us is dead! Now, if you’ll excuse me, we have a battleship to save!”

Iceni swept out, leaving Drakon sitting there, mystified.

“I should do it,” Morgan complained.

“Gaiene can handle it,” Drakon replied.

“Him and that brat on the battleship?”

Drakon rested the left side of his chin on one fist as he looked at her. “You don’t like Kontos? I understood that you’d been sending him long, chatty communications.”

Instead of acting guilty, Morgan just grinned. “I’m flirting with him like crazy.”

“‘Flirting’ is a fairly innocent term,” Drakon observed.

“Maybe it’s a bit more than flirting, then. I want the kid interested in me. I want him willing to do what I want, what you want, with that battleship of his.”

“You’re trying to turn Kontos against Iceni?” Part of him, the part that looked at cold reality and its demands, saw the merit in such tactics. Another part of him, the part that knew Gwen Iceni, rejected the idea of undermining her authority with a mobile forces officer.

On the other hand, if Morgan can turn Kontos, Gwen needs to know that. Gwen has been acting like I annoy her no end, but she still deserves my support, and I still need her support.

“How’s your plan going?” Drakon asked.

Morgan made a diffident wave with one hand. “It’s a work in progress. If I can get him alone, he and I together, I think I can make the innocent young lad forget all about Her Royal Majesty the President.”

Drakon shook his head, trying to mask the reaction her words created in him. “I’m uncomfortable with those kinds of tactics.”

“Kontos won’t actually get any,” Morgan said with a grin. “It’s holding out the possibility that makes men do really stupid things.” As if realizing that Drakon might take that as a derisive reference to what had happened at Taroa, Morgan’s smile abruptly vanished. “Besides, I don’t sleep around, no matter what that worm Malin tells you.”

“Colonel Malin is not part of this conversation and has not made such accusations.” Given how much Malin dislikes Morgan, it is a bit odd that he has never even implied that Morgan is promiscuous, but then, Malin doesn’t seem the type to heedlessly use that sort of slur as a weapon against a woman. He might have tried to kill her during that incident in orbit, or he might instead have saved her from being killed by someone else as he claims despite the improbability of his doing that, but he’s never called her a slut. I guess his mother raised Malin right. “Even if all you’re doing is offering something you don’t intend to ever deliver on, the whole thing strikes me as too much like what the snakes would do to entrap somebody.”

Morgan shrugged. “If the enemy does something smart, do you reject using the same idea because the enemy came up with it? General, it would be extremely useful for us to have effective control of that battleship. You still don’t know who sicced those assassins on you, and maybe on me, but you can’t rule out the possibility that our President wants to clear the field of competitors. If you want Gaiene to lead this op, that’s fine. Let me go along so I can do some, uh, close-in maneuvering with Kontos and get him really interested in doing what we want.”

“No offense, Roh, but that tactic wasn’t too successful when you tried it on Black Jack.”

She made a scornful sound. “That slug Malin was there cramping my style. And that woman, the one that Black Jack was obviously sleeping with. I still could have gotten to Black Jack if Malin hadn’t been there. That Alliance drab wasn’t anything special.”

Drakon laughed. “She was an Alliance battle cruiser commander. And Black Jack’s wife.”

“Wife?” Morgan cocked on eyebrow at Drakon. “When did that happen?”

“Not too long ago, I guess.”

“He’ll get restless. Now, what about our boy Kontos?”

I don’t like it, and I don’t want to do anything that would feed any suspicions that Gwen has of me. But I have to put this in terms that Morgan can understand. “Here’s the thing, Colonel. If you make an explicit play for Kontos, and he doesn’t bite but instead reports it to his superiors, where does that place us? You’ll be on his ship. He can record everything you say and do with him even if you two are supposedly in an unmonitored compartment.”

Morgan scowled at that. “He probably would, too. Just to protect himself. If that happens, our own plans could be exposed.”

“I need you here, anyway,” Drakon added. “You’re right that we need to run down whoever ordered the attack that almost got you and me. You’re the best for that job.”

“Damn right I am. Whoever set that up covered their tracks really well.” Mollified by Drakon’s praise, Morgan saluted jauntily. “But I’ll find whoever it was.”

“And then you will tell me, and I will decide what to do. Right?”

“Yes, sir,” Morgan replied with another grin.

“Especially if you think either Colonel Malin or President Iceni were involved,” Drakon emphasized with his hardest glare. “Nothing is to happen to President Iceni.”

Morgan’s smile didn’t waver. “Yes, sir.”

“Madam President, the military explosives used in the bomb at your desk have been traced to the armory of a subunit of the brigade commanded by Colonel Rogero of General Drakon’s division,” Togo reported dispassionately.

“Someone must have issued those explosives,” Iceni observed. They were in her office, as secure a place to talk as possible. Her desk display showed a stream of shuttles heading upward from one of Drakon’s camps toward a single freighter in orbit.

Togo, standing facing her desk, nodded diffidently. “Interrogations were begun to determine who had issued the explosives and under what pretences. One of the supply sergeants, however, was found dead in his quarters before questioning began. The cause of death appeared to be an overdose of the illegal drug known as Rapture.”

“An overdose? Before questioning began? How very convenient for someone. Who knew that questioning of those personnel was to be conducted?”

“General Drakon’s office was notified twenty minutes before our team arrived at the armory,” Togo said.

“Twenty minutes? Who gave that much warning of an interrogation raid?” Iceni demanded. “Do I have to personally supervise the carrying out of even the most basic security actions?”

“The interrogation personnel were delayed by a breakdown of their vehicle,” Togo said without emotion. “I accept full responsibility for the failure.”

“That won’t bring back that supply sergeant and whatever he knew.” Iceni sat back, rubbing her mouth with one hand as she thought. “But he might not have known anything. I have experience in the mobile forces, remember. Even with the tightest controls, it is possible to acquire the small amount of explosives used in that bomb by legitimate means. All you have to do is draw some for training or for demonstration purposes and draw a bit more than you really need.”

The sub-CEO who had taught her such tools for dealing with rivals had been a charming man who had appointed himself her mentor, seeking to bed Iceni through guile rather than coercion. He might eventually have succeeded in that if his wife hadn’t blown him and his bed to bits over yet another woman. In the end, he had taught Gwen a few more lessons than he had intended.

“The fact remains, Madam President,” Togo persisted, “that the explosives have been traced to the command of Colonel Rogero, who is a loyal follower of General Drakon.”

“And that doesn’t make you suspicious?” Iceni said, letting ice form on her words. “Neither of those men is stupid.” Though you wouldn’t know it from Drakon’s oblivious behavior in personal matters. “Draw the explosives from a source directly traceable to them? Even the lowest level subexecutive knows better than to point such an accusing finger at themselves.”

“Perhaps that was the goal,” Togo suggested after a pause. “They know you would regard such a move as hopelessly amateurish, so by pointing the evidence so clearly toward themselves, they would convince you that they were not involved.”

Iceni laughed scornfully. “That’s the sort of thing that happens in bad novels. Drakon is a successful commander. He knows how foolish it is to base your plans on the assumption that your opponent will act exactly as you wish, and the more convoluted your wishes, the less likely it is that your opponent will take the steps you desire. What can you tell me about the trigger for the bomb?”

“It was as I said, Madam President. Tuned to your biometrics and focused on the chair behind the desk.”

She sat forward, eyes intent on Togo. “Then how did you detect its presence from the door?”

Togo didn’t hesitate. “There was a wave-guide leak. A pinhole that allowed some signal strength to emanate back and to the side.”

“I see. How fortunate. Are there any leads yet as to who set up the attack on General Drakon and whether or not the Alliance officer was also a target?”

“No, Madam President. Most of the members of The People’s Word have proven to be unaware of the actions by their most radical associates. Others have disappeared though remains linked to several indicate they might have been victims of suicide belts that exploded. Three were found dead from the actions of injected nanos.”

“The same type of nanos that killed the one captured by Colonel Morgan?”

Togo visibly tensed at Morgan’s name, but his voice remained unemotional. “Yes, Madam President.”

“I expect better results, on both issues, and I expect them soon. These internal threats have to be dealt with. We have enough to worry about with external threats.” Her eyes went back to her display, watching the shuttles rising to orbit and dropping back down to the surface.

“Madam President,” Togo said, “may I suggest that the assassination attempt aimed at General Drakon might have been staged? That his survival was because the attackers were told not to kill him?”

“Are you saying that Drakon himself set it up? That they did really want to kill the Alliance officer and only her?”

“It is possible. That officer had already worked with Kommodor Marphissa and might be perceived to be in your camp, and the close ties between you and Black Jack are widely known.”

“What does that— What if the attack were aimed only at Colonel Morgan?” We won’t discuss my personal life. But as for the rest, you opened this can of worms. Tell me where you think this part of it leads.

Togo paused for several seconds. “If that were the case, then, speaking solely in terms of your self-interest, Madam President, it is unfortunate that it did not succeed.”

Iceni almost smiled before she caught herself. “Let me know of anything else you find out as soon as you learn it.”

After Togo had left, she went back to gazing at the shuttles. Less than six days to set this up. The freighter should be pulling out of orbit within the next hour.

Her gaze shifted to the hypernet gate near the edge of the star system. Marphissa and the others were still on their way to Indras Star System. They wouldn’t pop out of the gate at Indras until after the matter of Haris’s flotilla was resolved, wouldn’t know until they got back whether or not the battleship Midway would still be here to receive the hoped-for thousands of crew members who had been formerly assigned to the Reserve Flotilla. That was assuming the Recovery Flotilla made it safely to Varandal, succeeded in convincing the Alliance authorities there to hand over the prisoners, then made it back to Midway Star System in one piece.

And someone, or some ones, here had either tried to separately kill her and General Drakon, or had tried to make it look like they were trying to kill the pair of them, or that she and Drakon were trying to kill each other.

“Madam President?” The call came over her routine comm channel. “The press crews have arrived for your statement supporting the low-level political-office elections. They may try to ask questions.”

Iceni sighed and keyed her reply. “That’s fine. Send them in, and tell them I will answer any questions that I deem appropriate.”

No matter how hard those questions were, they would surely be easier than the questions privately bedeviling her.

“I don’t like this,” Kapitan Stein complained, looking as unhappy as she sounded. Her heavy cruiser, one of two that were orbiting the gas giant in order to protect the battleship Midway and the orbiting dock where the battleship was moored, was within two light-seconds of where Gaiene was on that orbiting dock, so there was no noticeable delay in the conversation.

Colonel Conner Gaiene made a half-apologetic shrug, both palms facing upward in the eternal gesture meaning what can we do? “You’re only pretending to run away.”

“If we didn’t have orders from the President herself, Gryphon and Basilisk would stay near this facility and fight!”

Had he ever been as enthusiastic as this Kapitan Stein? It was hard to remember. Like many of the mobile forces officers, Stein was young for her rank, the more senior officers often having suffered varying but unfortunate fates when the star system revolted against the Syndicate. “Don’t go too far. We may need you to chase off the four Hunter-Killers with the battle cruiser.”

“We’ll do more than chase them off,” Stein promised. “Don’t let Kontos give you any lip,” she added.

“Now, Kapitan, I know Kapitan-Leytenant Kontos has been promoted quite rapidly, but haven’t we all?”

Stein smiled. “Not you in the ground forces. You should have killed more of your supervisors.”

“I was one of those supervisors,” Gaiene reminded her. “And I am very comfortable where I am in the command hierarchy. If you ever get to visit the surface, you should look me up, and we can discuss the matter over drinks.”

Kapitan Stein got that is-he-really-hitting-on-me? look, then apparently decided Gaiene wasn’t serious. “The jump point from Maui is two and a half light-hours from us at this point in the gas giant’s orbit. We’ll wait until at least three hours after we see the enemy flotilla arrive, by which point they should have settled onto vectors clearly indicating they are coming this way, then we’ll pretend to pull away and leave you to your fate.”

“Don’t try to tangle with that monster on my account,” Gaiene warned. “I don’t want to have to do an alas, poor Gryphon speech.”

Stein laughed, either because she got the joke or because she was being polite. He had noticed that, as the years went on, younger women were beginning to treat him politely, which was a very bad sign for any man with lecherous intent. At least, Gaiene thought as Stein ended her call, young women weren’t laughing at him yet. There’s still time to seek an honorable death in battle before that happens, or a dishonorable death at the hands of an enraged relative of a lover. I wonder how much longer it will be before I cease to care which it turns out to be?

“They’re here.” Lieutenant Colonel Safir, who had been promoted to fill the second-in-command slot in the brigade after Lieutenant Colonel Lyr had been promoted to command the orbiting dockyards at Taroa, tapped a control to bring a display near her to life.

Colonel Gaiene cocked his head to one side as if studying the image intently. “Just a few specks of light.”

“I can zoom it in.” The tiny dots of light blossomed into the lean shark shapes that ground forces had learned to fear and hate. One massive shark led the way, four much smaller shapes following in its wake like remoras.

“Our target,” Gaiene commented. “Why did I volunteer for this?”

“You didn’t,” Safir pointed out. “None of us did. We just got told to do it.”

“Was that what happened?”

Safir grinned. She had no trouble with his banter, recognizing when he was serious and when he was just trying to ward off emotion, and had also made it clear she wasn’t interested in any closer relationship even if Gaiene had dared to try it in the face of Drakon’s orders to avoid his own subordinates. All in all, a very valuable second-in-command. “When did that freighter leave?” he asked.

“Six hours ago.” Safir pointed to a part of the display showing space nearby. “Just poking along as if it were a routine supply ship on its way home. We got the final soldier and the last of the equipment under cover five hours ago.”

“Well done!” Gaiene waved an extravagant gesture of praise. “Our new friends from Ulindi will see nothing untoward here.”

“Just a nonoperational battleship, with hardly anyone on board, ripe for the plucking.” Safir sobered, eyeing Gaiene skeptically. “What do you think our odds are?”

“If our foes are confident? Not bad at all. And we have given them every reason to be confident, especially since if we had had a day or two less of warning, their confidence would have been fully justified, and this battleship would be doomed.” Gaiene pursed his mouth in thought. “Mind you, we will have to move carefully and make sure our people are distributed properly to provide an appropriate welcome when our guests arrive. How fast are our guests moving?”

“Point one light speed. The mobile forces called that right.”

“This is their battlefield, after all.” Gaiene looked at those far-off shark shapes and the vector data displayed under them. “If they don’t change their speed, we’ll have more than an entire standard day to get ready for them.”

Safir smiled again. “It doesn’t seem right to watch your opponent spend twenty-five hours charging at you. Like they’re stuck in something and moving very slowly.”

“Whereas they are actually in nothing and moving very quickly.” Gaiene glanced at Safir. “You have done ship boardings, haven’t you?”

“Only one, as a junior executive. It’s been a while.”

“It’s been too long for all of us,” Gaiene said with mock-sadness, drawing a grin from Safir at the barely masked innuendo. “But we were talking about boarding operations, not personal problems. We ground forces types are out of our element in space. Space is too big, too fast, too strange compared to operating on a planet or an asteroid or orbital facility. So we minimize the time we spend in space for this engagement. We fight here on this ship, then we fight there on that ship. Simple enough.”

“Except that everything that’s simple is very difficult.”

Gaiene nodded with an appreciative expression. “You’ve been reading the classics. Very good. Are you planning to command this brigade?”

Safir smiled again, though gently. “I’m happy as second-in-command.”

“So was I.” The former brigade commander had died in the same action that… Gaiene felt the darkness weighing on his spirit again and tried to shift the topic. “Let’s go over where everyone will take up position inside this large mobile unit. I want the entire brigade ready an hour before our guests come knocking.”

“Yes, sir.” Safir brought up a schematic of the battleship’s deck plan on the display, and they went to work.

Battleships normally carried a couple of thousand personnel. Until very recently, the Midway had only a couple of hundred aboard, and a good proportion of those were outfitters, construction specialists instead of mobile forces personnel. They could have put up a small fight against the kind of boarding party likely to come off of a battle cruiser, but with no chance of success.

But a warship big enough to carry a couple of thousand crew members could also carry a thousand soldiers with room to spare.

“The last of the outfitters have left the Midway and are sheltering inside the dock facility,” the very-young-looking Kapitan-Leytenant Kontos reported to Colonel Gaiene. “If the battle cruiser conducts a high-speed, heavy-braking maneuver as I expect, they will be next to us in just under an hour.”

Like the rest of his soldiers, Gaiene was in battle armor and waiting at the spot inside the battleship from which he would begin the fight. He regarded the youthful Kapitan-Leytenant with an approving look that hid any trace of melancholy or wistfulness. He had been that young once, that enthusiastic once. That had been a long time ago, it seemed, but every once in a while someone like Kontos helped him remember. “Did the outfitters put on a convincing display of panic?” Gaiene asked.

“If I had not known it was an act, I would have believed it myself,” Kontos advised cheerfully. “Between you and me, I suspect some of the outfitters really are feeling a bit panicky.”

“I suspect you are right.”

“Gryphon and Basilisk are two light-minutes away from us. They look exactly like they are waiting for an excuse to run a lot farther and a lot faster. Both cruisers have received offers to defect to Supreme CEO Haris’s forces with promises of wealth, promotion, and happiness beyond the measure of men and women.”

Gaiene smiled again though only with his lips. Anyone who looked into his eyes would have seen no humor there. “Sounds tempting.”

“I don’t think Gryphon and Basilisk will be tempted,” Kontos replied with utter seriousness. “The mobile forces personnel still aboard Midway are all in the citadels. We will seal them when the battle cruiser approaches.” Kontos looked distressed. “I wish I could do more to assist your assault, but if any of our few operational weapons fire, they might well hit your own soldiers.”

“And the battle cruiser would shoot back,” Gaiene said. “We don’t want this pretty new ship of yours banged up. Your President wouldn’t like that, and I am endeavoring to stay on her good side.”

“President Iceni is a great leader,” Kontos replied.

He really believes that. Perhaps he’s right. What he doesn’t realize, because he lacks the experience, is that even great leaders can lead people into great disasters. Hopefully, this won’t be one of them. Iceni is a damned fine woman, though. Too bad she’s never made a pass at me. I wouldn’t dare make a pass at her. If she didn’t kill me, General Drakon would. “She is impressive,” Gaiene said out loud.

“Yes.” Kontos sounded almost reverent.

He worships the woman. Poor boy. I hope the impact when he encounters reality won’t leave too big a crater inside him.

“I have received another transmission from the battle cruiser,” Kontos said, his tone returning to a businesslike cadence.

“Your own offer of wealth, promotion, etc.?”

“No. I have received no such offer, possibly because the enemy commander knows that I would never betray our President.”

Or possibly because the enemy commander doesn’t see the need to offer you anything, believing that this battleship is fruit ripe for an easy plucking. “What are they saying?” Gaiene asked.

“They demand that I acknowledge their last demand to surrender.”

“Tell them no. Tell them that you’ll defend this ship to your dying breath.”

The image of Kontos squinted at Gaiene, puzzled. “I want them to expect strong resistance?”

“What you want,” Gaiene explained patiently, “is to make them expect you to resist as hard as you can. Which shouldn’t be very hard, of course, given how few people they think you have aboard this battleship. But the prospect of determined resistance by your small contingent will cause them to put together a boarding party large enough to quickly overwhelm your skeleton crew. Then, when that boarding party gets here, my soldiers will destroy it and face correspondingly fewer crew members on the battle cruiser itself.”

“Ah. I see. I should act desperate and determined.”

“Absolutely.” Gaiene managed to muster another smile for the young Kapitan-Leytenant.

“I can do that,” Kontos said in a quieter voice. “I know how it feels. At Kane. On this battleship, on this bridge, waiting for the snakes to break through, day after day.”

Gaiene regarded Kontos with a different gaze. The boy has been through a lot. It’s easy to forget. He doesn’t let the scars show very often. But they are there, aren’t they, lad? Sometimes, they fade with time. If you’re lucky. “That was an exceptional job you did at Kane, Kapitan-Leytenant Kontos. After that, this little operation should be easy. It either works very quickly, and we all celebrate, or it fails miserably, and we all very quickly die.”

Kontos smiled in turn and nodded, his eyes on Gaiene. “That is so. I will keep the battle cruiser’s commander entertained and his attention occupied. Let me know if there is anything I can do to assist your actions.”

“Just keep your citadels locked tight. We’ll take care of everything else this time.”

Kontos saluted with formal dignity, then the scene changed to an outside view.

“Just under an hour,” Gaiene told the soldiers of his brigade over the command circuit. “I want full-combat readiness in half an hour.”

Over the next forty-five minutes, Gaiene watched the battle cruiser swooping in, starting out as a flaring spot of light marked by the propulsion units straining to bring it to a halt relative to the battleship, then growing dramatically in size as it reduced speed, creating the illusion that the massive warship was expanding at an ever-slowing rate as it got closer.

“I never liked these boarding operations,” Lieutenant Colonel Safir commented from her location elsewhere in the battleship. The nearly one thousand soldiers they had brought with them were dispersed among four large loading docks spaced along the battleship’s hull. Fitting almost two hundred and fifty armored soldiers into each of those docks in such a way that almost all could engage attackers had taken some careful arranging despite the size of the compartments. “I’ve only done the one, and I don’t have fond memories.”

“We’ll enjoy this one more than they will,” Gaiene replied. The universe had long been a drab thing for him, illuminated only by the highs brought on by combat or alcohol or women. Memories could have provided more light and color, but along with the light and color came pain, so he did his best to block them out.

The ring on his left hand was concealed under the gauntlet of his battle armor, but he always knew it was there. Nothing else remained, but the ring did.

His spirit felt the lift that imminent battle carried before it, and for a moment, Gaiene could forget the emptiness he fought every day and the memories he fought to avoid every minute of every day.

The link to the battleship’s external sensors showed the battle cruiser looming very close now. “Five minutes,” the voice of Kapitan-Leytenant Kontos warned over the battleship’s announcing system. “Both Gryphon and Basilisk have broadcast acceptance of the offer from Haris and are altering vectors to join up with the battle cruiser!”