Shattered Spear

Chapter Sixteen

Marphissa held her flotilla’s vectors as the enigmas arced slightly down and starward and her own force curved to meet them, rising slightly and angling a little bit to port. Having slowed to point one light speed, the warships had pivoted again so that their bows faced toward the enemy once more. It was a textbook approach to an engagement, technically perfect and totally lacking in imagination.

“All units,” Marphissa broadcast. “Turn up zero one point five degree at time three seven.” It was a very minor adjustment, but given the speeds being traveled and the distances covered, it would produce a significant change in the projected encounter. “Engage targets as they enter weapon envelopes.”

When two formations were closing at a combined rate of sixty thousand kilometers per second, the enemy went from a very distant speck to right there in what felt like a moment of time. But even that was a bit of illusion created by the human mind. The ships were moving so fast relative to each other that they were never actually seen when close. They were far ahead, then far behind.

But in that instant, Marphissa felt a thrill of elation as she realized she had guessed right. The enigmas had assumed her formation would not shift its vector.

The enigmas had run head-on into the firepower of a human battleship, while the battle cruiser Pele and the heavy cruisers Basilisk and Kraken skimmed the top of the enigma formation, only targeted by the enigma warships there and able to concentrate their fire on that same fraction of the alien armada.

Marphissa blinked, her eyes fixed on her display as the sensors on her ships evaluated a combat engagement whose duration was measured in much less than a second. Humans had not pulled any triggers in that engagement since their reflexes were far too slow. Only automated fire control systems could choose targets and fire in the time allowed. But with so little time to hit the enemy, the awesome firepower of the Midway had been in its element.

Thirty-three enigma warships had entered the engagement. Twelve of those in the center of the enigma formation had been blown to pieces by Midway’s broadside. A half-dozen others were staggering from damage inflicted by the battleship.

On top of the enigma formation, five more enigma warships had been knocked out by the combined fire of Pele, Basilisk, and Kraken.

Even the battleship’s shields hadn’t been sufficient to shrug off the enigma return fire, though, and in some places her armor had also been penetrated. Marphissa waited tensely as damage reports scrolled down, seeing that nothing critical had been hit on Midway. Pele had taken several hits, one knocking out a hell lance battery and another spearing through the shuttle hangar, but was still in fine combat shape, while the other ships in the Midway flotilla had suffered only minor damage as the enigmas tried to take out the human capital ships.

Sixteen enigma warships, six of them bearing significant damage, curved back around toward the human formation.

Marphissa seemed to hear Bradamont lecturing her. “When the enigmas get hurt, when victory by conventional means suddenly slips from their grasp, that’s when you have to worry about ramming tactics. You can’t outmaneuver them. But you can hit them hard enough to knock them off a collision course.”

“All units in Midway flotilla,” Marphissa ordered, “pivot zero eight zero degrees. Maintain current velocity.”

“What are we doing?” Kontos asked, not frightened at all but intrigued.

Marphissa answered him with another transmission to everyone. “Assume the enemy intends to attempt to ram our largest warships. Set fire control systems to prioritize enemy ships on courses with smallest intercept distances.”

Kontos nodded. “I see. That’s why we’re holding this vector. The enigmas will accelerate and catch us, but at a much smaller relative velocity, so we will have ample opportunity to destroy them on their approach. Did Captain Bradamont tell you of this enigma tactic?”

“Yes.”

“That woman is an angel of death,” Kontos said in admiring tones that made the label sound strangely seductive.

Marphissa gave him a startled glance, wondering if President Iceni now had a rival for Kapitan Kontos’s chaste, martial admiration.

The flotilla was pivoting, every ship continuing along the same course at the same velocity, but facing nearly backward toward the enigmas who were coming out of their turn and lining up for another charge at the human formation.

About thirty light minutes behind the enigmas was the other enigma formation, tangling with Imallye’s flotilla. The pirate queen had not let up, using the agility of her battle cruisers to hammer the enigmas on pass after pass until only a dozen now remained of the armada that had launched from the planet. Marphissa hesitated, then angrily touched another comm command. “Imallye, this is Kommodor Marphissa. Be advised that according to experience with the enigmas, when facing defeat they are likely to engage in suicide tactics including ramming of the largest human warships within reach. For the people, Marphissa, out.”

“Let’s hope the warning reaches her in time,” Kontos said.

Marphissa turned a scowl on the young Kapitan. “She tried to kill me. She tried to destroy Manticore. And I have to warn her anyway. But I don’t have to like it.”

The enigmas came in at full acceleration, which was significantly better than any human ship could manage. But with Marphissa’s flotilla moving away from them at point one light speed the alien ships were still exposed to human defensive fire for an unusually long run in.

Two of the remaining enigma ships blew up, a third broke in half, the two halves self-destructing as they tumbled away to prevent anyone from learning anything from the wreckage.

One of the smaller enigma ships suddenly veered toward the light cruiser Falcon, which had only moments to react. Fortunately, Falcon’s commanding officer did the only thing that could have saved the ship, putting the main propulsion on full and abruptly beginning to brake the light cruiser’s velocity. The sudden change in vector threw off the enigma warship’s approach so that it slid past a bare hundred meters from Falcon’s stern. Before the enigma could turn again, it was blown apart by fire from Falcon, the light cruiser Eagle, and the Hunter-Killers Scout and Defender.

Midway and Pele unleashed a stream of missiles that tore into the advancing enigmas and destroyed four more. Kraken and Basilisk each accounted for another.

And that was enough. The eight surviving enigma warships broke off, changing vectors rapidly so that the human defensive fire failed to hit. The remaining aliens kept accelerating for all they were worth, heading away from the star.

“They’re going for that new jump point of theirs,” Kontos said. “Shall I pursue?”

“No,” Marphissa said. “Even Pele couldn’t catch them if all they want to do is run.” She looked to where Imallye had been fighting the other enigma group. As of thirty minutes ago, one of Imallye’s heavy cruisers was limping away from the fight, but five surviving enigma warships had been tearing away in the same direction as the six fleeing from Marphissa’s flotilla. “Let’s hope we don’t have to fight Imallye now that we’ve dealt with the common enemy.”

“Another flotilla arrived at the jump point from Ulindi!” the senior watch specialist cried. “Three hours and twenty minutes ago. A heavy cruiser and two light cruisers!”

Bradamont had just begun muttering a curse when the specialist spoke again, this time sounding puzzled.

“I can’t identify the unit recognition codes they are transmitting. It’s not Syndicate.”

Diaz swept his hand through his own display, peering intently at the data. “They’re calling themselves Ulindi? It must be a trick. Ulindi doesn’t have any warships.”

“Incoming message from the new flotilla,” the comm specialist reported. “It’s addressed to the commander of Midway’s flotilla, as well as President Iceni and General Drakon.”

“At the moment, I’m the commander of Midway’s flotilla,” Bradamont said. “Let me have a look.”

The man whose image appeared looked oddly familiar to her. Along with a satisfied smile, he was wearing a CEO suit that had been modified enough from its Syndicate origins to look distinct.

“I know him,” Diaz said. “From when he was with the Reserve Flotilla, and when he commanded the Syndicate flotilla that Black Jack drove away from this star. That’s CEO Jason Boyens.”

“He was taken prisoner by Admiral Geary after the fight at Varandal and was most recently a prisoner of President Iceni,” Bradamont said. “She told me she had released him not long ago and sent him to Ulindi. Why is he back and with those warships?”

“Another betrayal,” Diaz said bitterly.

But Boyens’s first words were unexpected. “Greetings from the newly independent star system of Ulindi to the people of Midway Star System,” he said with a broad grin. “And to President Iceni and General Drakon as well. I wanted them to know that their… what’s the word? Oh, yes, their trust in me was well deserved.”

Boyens indicated the heavy cruiser whose bridge he was on. “These three warships were part of the forces the Syndicate had been massing for a coordinated attack on you. With help and encouragement from covert agents I had sent out, the crews of this heavy cruiser and the two light cruisers mutinied against the Syndicate while in jump to Ulindi Star System, which they were to transit before jumping to Midway to hit you along with a couple of other flotillas. They didn’t like that plan, because Syndicate ships sent to attack Midway have a tendency never to come home again, but were happy to tell us all about it when they arrived at Ulindi and requested asylum. We were in turn happy to grant them a place to stay in exchange for their becoming the first of Ulindi’s own mobile defense forces!”

“I don’t believe it,” Diaz said, looking stunned.

“I’m not sure I do,” Bradamont said. “But President Iceni said that Boyens might do some real service at Ulindi.”

Boyens’s grin had turned smug. “Since we knew you might be in need of a little help against the other attacks, I brought Ulindi’s new fleet to assist. Just let me know what you need. Ulindi, and I, owe you a few favors. For the people! Boyens, out.”

“I’ll be damned,” Diaz said. “What are we going to do?”

Bradamont indicated her display, where the Syndicate flotilla they had been fighting was already twisting about as quickly as possible. “Since they’ve figured out that one of their expected reinforcements has turned out to be reinforcements for us, I’d say we’re going to chase these guys out of this star system. Once Gryphon joins up we’ll more than match Boyens’s flotilla, so we’ll escort them toward the main world so he can talk to General Drakon in something like real time. Unless the general tells me otherwise. We’ve won, and one of our allies has picked up some decent firepower. Our ancestors are watching over us, Kapitan.”

“You may make me a believer yet,” Diaz said, grinning.

Colonel Rogero checked his armor’s power levels, then scrolled rapidly through his whole force to see how everyone else was doing. Not well. And the Syndicate ground forces and citizens were even worse off.

Another enigma bombardment swept past like a deadly hailstorm, but by now the human soldiers had learned the best means of hiding from the enigma seekers and few were targeted.

That wouldn’t matter if everyone ran out of power, though. Without power for heat, oxygen regeneration, and water recycling, no one would last long on the surface of this planet.

“Colonel, that big hole is closing,” a scout left in that area reported.

He didn’t like the sound of that. “All scouts, get away from that hole and rejoin us. Move carefully. I want you back here in one piece.”

What were the aliens up to now? Why had they finally sealed that access to their base?

A powerful signal cut through enigma interference that had increasingly been hindering the human comm net. “Colonel Rogero, this is Kommodor Marphissa. I understood there was a big hole I could drop some big rocks down, but it seems to have vanished. What is your situation?”

“Awful,” Rogero said, feeling weak with relief as well as fatigue. “We’re not capable of breaching their defenses. We’ve barely been able to hang on. The whole force needs to be pulled off planet, but the enigmas have a seemingly endless supply of munitions that they’ll use against any shuttles that try to land now.”

“The area to your southeast looks clear. Keep moving that way. When you’re far enough from the enigma positions, I’m going to start dropping small rocks to keep the enigmas pinned down while we carry out the lift.”

It wasn’t easy, and they lost a few more people on the way, but Rogero got his unit, the Syndicate soldiers, and the citizens far enough to planetary southeast to be safe when the warships in orbit began dropping “small” rocks on the surface over the enigma base. Small meant metal projectiles falling at immense velocity to release their energy on impact, producing massive explosions that not only destroyed anything nearby such as enigma weapons launchers and sensors, but also threw up a lot of dust to help screen the human evacuation.

Rogero sent the citizens up first, dazed men, women, and children who weren’t hysterical only because they were too tired to panic. He then started sending up groups of his soldiers along with the Syndicate soldiers who willingly gave up their weapons. Despite encouragement from President Iceni and Kommodor Marphissa, and perhaps a few orders that Rogero insisted he had not heard due to enigma jamming, he stubbornly refused to leave until the last shuttle came down to pick him and a dozen other remaining soldiers up.

Exhausted despite the up meds his battle armor was pumping into his bloodstream, Rogero realized with a start of surprise that two of those soldiers were Capek and Dinapoli, two of the three who had been rescued by Manticore. “You two are making a habit of being rescued from this planet,” he said.

“I hope this is the last time,” Capek said.

Dinapoli, weaving on her feet from tiredness, managed a nod. “We saved some citizens.”

“Yes.” Rogero let everyone else begin boarding the shuttle, feeling the reassuring vibration in the ground that marked the ongoing orbital bombardment of the surface above the enigma base. “But let’s allow the mobile forces to finish this fight.”

He went up the ramp last. The shuttle began rising while its ramp was still coming up, then as the ramp sealed the shuttle pivoted to face straight up and rocketed for space.

“The last of our people is off the planet,” Leytenant Mack reported to Marphissa. “The final shuttle lift has cleared atmosphere.”

“Good.” She ended the call and glared at her display. “Let’s stop playing around. Midway, see what your big ones can do.”

Battleships could carry some big rocks. Midway unloaded the biggest chunk of streamlined metal she had, and fired it downward from an altitude of twenty thousand kilometers above the ravaged surface of the planet. Picking up energy with every kilometer it fell, the rock impacted with the force of a multimegaton nuclear weapon, creating a massive crater directly above where the enigma base lay and shattering the planet’s surface for a wide region around the site.

“My sensors can’t tell if the shot penetrated the enigma base,” Leytenant Mack reported. “But there doesn’t seem to have been nearly enough subsidence of the surface. The enigmas must have dug out some huge spaces under that planet, and if we collapsed them we should see the surface drop a lot more than it has.”

“Well… damn,” Marphissa said. “We’ll have to let the pirate have the last word on this.”

Imallye had taken her flotilla out to where a natural asteroid about thirty kilometers across was swinging through the wide, elliptical orbit about the star Iwa which it had followed for countless years. Though occasionally crossing the orbit of the planet, and currently heading inward only thirty light seconds from the planet, it would never have come close enough to be caught in the planet’s gravity and be pulled down to its doom.

But even though thirty-kilometer-wide asteroids had a tremendous amount of mass and momentum, the amount of diversion necessary to change its path enough to meet that of the planet was within the capabilities of several human warships. With tow cables wrapped about the asteroid, they tugged it about, altering the age-old path, and setting it on a course for the planet.

It would take a little while to get there. But when it did, the impact would devastate half the planet and break everything on the other half.

“Maybe that will get their attention,” Marphissa growled. “Just leave us alone! And we’ll leave you alone!”

“The base, the armadas, this must have cost the enigmas a lot,” Kontos suggested. “Even if they want to strike again, it will take them a while.”

“It had better take them a long while.” Marphissa leaned back, trying to relax after the long strain of the preparations for the fight and the actual engagements. But she couldn’t relax, because President Iceni had ordered Marphissa to take her flotilla to rendezvous with Imallye’s flotilla.

To negotiate.

“I have done this before,” Marphissa had protested to Iceni. “At Moorea, I took my ship close to Imallye to negotiate. It didn’t end well.”

“This time we outgun her,” Iceni had said.

“Not by much!”

“Make it happen, Kommodor.”

The virtual conference was centered on Iceni and Imallye, apparently facing each other across a table at which only Iceni was actually seated. To either side of Iceni were Kommodor Marphissa and Colonel Rogero. Imallye was alone. She still wore the black skin suit, the weapons, and the glittering insignia, but Imallye had added a long jacket that made the tight bodysuit less revealing. She lounged back in her seat, one elbow resting on the table, her chin lying on the palm of that arm’s hand.

Iceni studied Imallye for a long moment, then nodded to her. “Granaile Imallye. Or Grace O’Malley, as you called yourself when I knew you.”

“When you knew my father,” Imallye replied. “We’ve both changed our names, haven’t we, Madam President?”

“I was always Gwen Iceni, but now I have a different title.” Iceni clasped her hands before her. “I have a pretty good idea of what happened, but I would appreciate your confirming it.”

“I already told you,” Imallye said. “The Syndicate was worried about suppressing your rebellion, and about more star systems around here following you out of the Syndicate. I suggested a false-flag operation, where I would pretend to be a pirate warlord who had rapidly taken over a few star systems and acquired some powerful Syndicate mobile forces. That would fool rebellious elements in those star systems into thinking they already had a new master and fool you into thinking I wasn’t working hand in hand with the Syndicate. Having failed to take you down, and having put in place what it considered to be adequate safeguards against my betraying them, the Syndicate agreed to the idea.”

Iceni could not resist shaking her head. “The same basic concept as the Syndicate tried at Ulindi, only bigger. Faced with one defeat, the Syndicate tried the same tactic but on a larger scale, hoping that the result would be different. But the Syndicate’s safeguards against you were not adequate because you were not the CEO at Ulindi. You always intended to betray the Syndicate.”

“Of course I did.” Imallye waved toward the portion of space where the bulk of what remained of the Syndicate Worlds was located. “That’s what they taught us, isn’t it? Rules are for suckers. The strong do what they will, and the weak endure what they must. Do you know how old that quote is? Never mind. The point is, I owe you, because you created the opportunity I could exploit. Once I had those star systems under my nominal control, my agents could start setting things up for me to actually wrest control from the Syndicate. Same for the mobile forces that I had ‘captured.’ A lot of snakes died in a fairly short period of time. I don’t know where the Syndicate has been getting so many fanatics, but they must be running short.”

“You owe me.” Iceni made it a statement and a question.

Imallye fixed a dark gaze on her. “Yes. Not as much as you owe me, though.”

Colonel Rogero cleared his throat to break the resulting silence. “Granaile Imallye, are any of your people among those we brought off the planet?”

“Why do you ask?”

“I’d like to transfer them to you.”

“You would?” Imallye grimaced. “None are mine. The Syndicate brought that ground forces unit, and the mobile forces, and the families of those people, from another region. No ties around here. How bad was it?”

“On the surface?” Rogero inhaled, exhaled, then shook his head. “Pretty bad. At the current time, I think we, humanity that is, are outclassed by enigma ground defenses. We did recover some expended enigma weaponry that should help us identify their targeting mechanisms and other information. But we’ll need to work out new tactics and get some new systems fielded before we can successfully take them on the ground.”

“Interesting.” Imallye looked at Iceni again. “I didn’t know how this part would work out. I knew the Syndicate was planning to reoccupy Iwa, to lure you in, and I was supposed to hit you in the back while you were dealing with that. I came through Iwa so I could react to whatever happened, not to destroy you, even though you made such a major production of leaking your intention to also come to Iwa so I’d show up thirsting for your blood.”

“You were very convincing,” Iceni said.

“I’m always very convincing. Sincere? That’s another matter.”

“You say you did not intend attacking me, but there is the other matter of what happened when my ship Manticore visited Moorea Star System,” Iceni said.

“Oh, that?” Imallye looked mildly regretful. “I had to maintain the illusion. The Syndicate expected me to offer no quarter to any of your followers. If I had let Manticore go the snakes would have suspected that I might be faking, and I was not prepared to make my move yet. I really was happy when your ship instead escaped, and in such a clever way.” She smiled.

Iceni raised an eyebrow at her. “But if Kommodor Marphissa had not come up with a way to escape, you would have destroyed Manticore?”

“Of course I would have. You can’t make a stew without gutting a few fish.” Imallye grinned at Marphissa, and she smiled back, both of them looking like tigers baring their teeth at an opponent.

“What a lovely metaphor,” Iceni observed, glad that the two other women weren’t actually within physical reach of each other.

Marphissa spoke warily. “Mahadhevan commanding the HuK Mahadhevan was a fake? Not a real worker who had helped kill the officers and snakes on that ship?”

“Isn’t he a brilliant actor?” Imallye said. “The Syndicate ordered him to pretend to be a worker who had led a mutiny on that unit and killed all the snakes aboard, and as things worked out, he really did turn out to be the leader of a mutiny who killed all of the snakes aboard. After you had met him, of course. Wheels within wheels, Kommodor. Never believe the first level of whatever you see.”

“What are we to believe of what we see now?” Iceni asked. “What are your plans?”

Imallye gestured slightly with one hand. “The Syndicate is going to be a little upset. I need to defend against counterattacks by them. I also need to consolidate control of the three star systems that I actually do have charge of now and begin making some changes from the Syndicate way of doing things. I can’t afford that much corruption and inefficiency, and I’d like to know that my star systems aren’t likely to revolt against me the first time they see a good opportunity the way they would have against the Syndicate. What are we going to do with Iwa?”

“Neutral ground?”

“We need to keep an eye on it,” Imallye insisted.

“I suppose we do,” Iceni said, glad that she had manipulated Imallye into suggesting it. “We could alternate providing picket ships to watch the star system. I’m not enthusiastic about the idea of setting up any sort of orbiting or planetary base here.”

Imallye shook her head. “A base would just be a target. What about the Syndicate ground forces and citizens you picked up?”

Iceni gestured to Rogero to answer.

He met Imallye’s gaze. “We can’t leave them at Iwa. Everything they brought to establish a new base on that planet was destroyed, and the planet itself isn’t in too good a shape.”

“It’s going to be in a lot worse shape when that megarock hits it,” Imallye said.

“Yes. As in the past when we have captured Syndicate personnel or found ourselves with Syndicate citizens, we are going to give them a choice. Join our forces or emigrate to one of the star systems associated with Midway if they agree to full security screening, or return to the Syndicate if they want to risk that.”

“I don’t get a shot at them?”

“That depends on how you mean get a shot at them,” Rogero said.

Imallye bared her teeth in another grin. “I know about you, Colonel. What kind of man could get an Alliance fleet battle cruiser captain to give up her command for him? The sort of man who could survive that mess on the surface and rescue a lot of citizens as well, I think. I’ll be blunt with you. I’m willing to offer them the same deal. The right to move to a star system under my control, or join my ground forces, if they agree to a full screening to ensure they aren’t Syndicate agents.”

“I have no problem with that,” Iceni said.

“No quotas?” Imallye asked.

“No. If they all want to go to you, that’s acceptable.”

“Hmmm.” Imallye canted her head slightly to one side as she studied Iceni. “I’ll also be screening them to see if any are your agents.”

“Of course. Are you willing to negotiate a boundary agreement?”

“Of course,” Imallye mimicked Iceni. “How about a supporting forces agreement?”

Iceni raised her eyebrows in surprise. “You’re willing to talk about mutual defense?”

“That’s what we just did here, isn’t it?” Imallye looked at Marphissa again, then at Rogero. “Besides, having seen your forces in action, I’d much rather be fighting alongside them than against them.”

“I’m sure we can work that out.” Iceni inhaled deeply, nerving herself for what she must say. “I want you to know that my expressions of regret were not a tactic driven by necessity. I dearly wish I had not accused your father and caused his death. I can never make that up.”

“No. You can’t.” Imallye smiled slightly this time, the expression not conveying humor. “And I want you to know that my expressions of hatred for you were not a tactic driven by necessity. I really do hate you, and always will.”

“Fair enough,” Iceni said. “I’ll keep an extra eye out for assassins.”

Imallye smiled again and leaned a little closer. “No. Trying to kill you would lead to war, and war would lead to more fathers and more mothers dying and leaving their children to grieve and plot revenge. I won’t have that on my conscience. There may be other assassins on your trail, but you are safe from me. I want you to live with your guilt.”

“Fair enough,” Iceni repeated, keeping her voice steady with some effort. “Your father would be proud of you.”

Imallye sat back again, the smile gone. “I hope so. At the very least, I have made the Syndicate pay very dearly for what they did to him.”

“You have,” Iceni said. “They badly underestimated you. I never did.”

“Lucky for you.” Imallye nodded to Iceni, then to Marphissa and Rogero. “I’m going to send half my flotilla back to Moorea immediately, but leave the other half here until I see the rock hit. I’d advise you to do the same. The Syndicate did not apprise me of their other plans, but I have reason to believe they were intending to strike at Midway Star System while you were gone. They can’t have much available to do that, but the cruisers and HuKs you left behind might find themselves with a difficult fight.”

“Thank you,” Iceni said. “I will also send half of my flotilla home immediately. The ones that remain will help guard the transports until we’ve sorted out who wants to go where. Will you need any help with the Syndicate troop transports that you convinced to join you?”

“No. They seem to be eager to avoid giving me any reason to destroy them,” Imallye said. “I will be leaving with the warships returning to Moorea, so I bid you farewell.”

Her image vanished, leaving Iceni with those of Rogero and Marphissa.

Rogero shook his head. “I’m glad we’re not fighting her.”

“Not yet, anyway,” Marphissa said darkly. “Madam President—”

Iceni held up a restraining hand. “I know. Don’t trust her. Keep our guard up. Imallye will either be a very good neighbor to have or a very dangerous threat next door. She might be both. But she knows I have commanders like you working for Midway, and I believe Imallye was absolutely sincere about not wanting to tangle with either of you. Anyone smart enough to have scammed the Syndicate the way she did, to have made that whole pirate queen act look real enough to fool everyone, is going to be smart enough to know that making an enemy of Midway would be a very big mistake.”

Marphissa nodded, mollified. “Will you really do what Imallye suggested?”

“Yes. We’ll see very quickly if Imallye is actually heading back to Moorea with half her force. I’ll leave you here in command of half of our flotilla, and take Midway along with the other half back home in case Captain Bradamont does need any help.”

General Artur Drakon left his command center after watching the warships that made up Ulindi Star System’s new fleet jump back to their new home. He still didn’t trust Jason Boyens, but had to admit that so far he had done just the sort of things that Gwen Iceni had hoped for. Boyens would probably end up effectively ruling Ulindi within a few years, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing since someone so focused on self-interest and so high on the Syndicate’s execute-on-sight list should work to make Ulindi strong and stable.

He found Bran Malin waiting in his office and automatically wondered where Morgan was. The two had been linked in their jobs for so long, it was still hard to realize that time was gone. “Is something up?” he asked Malin as Drakon sat down.

Malin nodded, standing respectfully, keeping any emotion from showing. Same old Malin. “General, I wanted to report a lack of activity.”

From anyone else, Drakon would have suspected a joke. But not Colonel Malin. “On whose part?”

“Colonel Morgan and Mehmet Togo.”

Drakon digested the news before speaking again. “Do you have any reason to think that either one is dead?”

“No, sir.” Malin frowned slightly. “A lack of activity on both of their parts would imply both had died, and that seems very unlikely. I believe that both have gone to ground.”

“Meaning that whatever they are planning is ready to go and they’re just waiting for the right time?” It never occurred to Drakon to ask if either had given up. That didn’t fit Morgan or Togo.

“I believe so, sir.”

Drakon leaned back, pressing his palm against his forehead and closing his eyes to think. “Are there any clues to their plans?”

“Both have tested defenses, General. Togo here, and Morgan at President Iceni’s offices.”

“You’re certain now that it was Morgan who tried to get to her, and not Togo?”

“Yes, sir.” Malin hesitated. “She never made any secret of the fact that she thought you should be sole ruler of this star system. And now that you and the President have an openly acknowledged relationship, there is the possibility of a child. An heir.”

“Another heir, you mean,” Drakon said. “Morgan wouldn’t want any offspring from me with anyone else. She thinks our daughter will conquer half the galaxy.”

Malin seemed to grow a little colder. “There are reasons to believe that Morgan is… less able to separate reality from her dreams. She may have been injured at Ulindi in ways that affected her stability, and while physically recovered might still be mentally feeling the impact.”

“And what about Togo?”

“I cannot be certain, but going through what is known and what was observed, I think Togo has his own dreams, General. President Iceni was not simply a boss to him.”

Drakon grimaced at that. “I suspected… but Gwen… I mean, the President, told me that Togo never behaved inappropriately toward her. He never tried to go outside the bounds of their professional relationship.”

“Not all forms of obsession manifest as physical desire,” Malin said.

That tread perilously close to ground that Drakon did not want to get into with Malin. He had once thought Malin’s relationship with Morgan was simply mutual loathing. But that didn’t explain why Malin had stayed working next to her for so long and risked himself to save her life more than once.

He changed the subject. “How confident are you that we will be able to spot them if either of them makes their move?”

“Not confident at all,” Malin said.

“Is there anything else we can do?”

“No, sir. Only wait, and keep our guard up.”

Drakon sat at his desk, doing nothing, for a while after Malin left. He wondered how things had gone at Iwa. Hopefully, they would receive some word from there soon. Hopefully, Gwen was all right.

He wondered what Morgan was thinking. Her contact number had been remotely wiped soon after he had left her that message.

He wondered where his baby daughter was, and what she looked like.

After a long time, Drakon got to work, trying to forget everything else.

But even that effort was frustrated, because before the day was over the light arrived showing that an Alliance courier ship had popped out of the hypernet gate. Immediately after arriving, the ship had broadcast a coded message with an urgent priority heading.