Shattered Spear

Chapter Seventeen

The message wasn’t addressed to him, and the code was one used only by the Alliance, but Drakon had no intention of letting an Alliance ship communicate directly with someone in this star system without his knowing what was being said.

He called Manticore.

“I assume that you are in receipt of the message from the Alliance courier ship, Captain Bradamont. I also assume that you have the necessary codes to read it. While we have respected your right to maintain security about Alliance matters, I nonetheless need to know if the message contains anything that bears on Midway Star System in any way. You may consider this a formal request for anything in that message that I or President Iceni should know. For the people, Drakon, out.”

Fortunately, Manticore had remained fairly close after escorting Boyens’s little flotilla to the planet. It only took fifteen minutes for the reply to come in.

“General Drakon,” Captain Bradamont said. She had her most professional attitude on, was wearing an immaculate uniform, and looked very calm and very determined. Bradamont was not on Manticore’s bridge, but in the privacy of her stateroom. “I am in receipt of both the message from the Alliance courier ship and your message asking for its contents. I should first inform you that the message is classified, but I am using my discretion as the senior local Alliance officer to override that classification and discuss the matter with you.”

Bradamont paused, then spoke slowly. “The message contains orders for me. It informs me that Admiral Geary’s orders assigning me as liaison officer to Midway Star System have been canceled. I am directed to return to Alliance space aboard the courier ship for further assignment.”

“Damn,” Drakon muttered. Part of him felt relieved that his upset was focused on how this would impact Donal Rogero and not on the negative effects it would have on Midway’s own defense. But it very definitely would hurt to lose Bradamont.

She was still speaking, but was having trouble keeping her voice steady. “My intent… General, my intent is to… to request that you grant me approval to remain at Midway in service to you and President Iceni. If you are willing to do so, I… I…” Bradamont paused, then got the words out. “I will inform the courier ship that I am resigning my commission as an officer in the Alliance Fleet and will not return with it. I hope you will regard my request with favor, and grant me a position here. Please inform me of… your decision. I will await your reply before answering the courier ship, which is demanding an immediate response. To the honor of our ancestors, Bradamont, out.”

Drakon stared at the image of Bradamont for several seconds. He knew her well enough to know how hard that decision must have been. And how much it would mean to Rogero. But he could not let that drive his own decision, not given the stakes involved and how much they would impact everyone in this star system. He touched the reply command. “Captain Bradamont, I want you to know that I appreciate how difficult this is for you, and how much I personally appreciate your request. However, given my responsibilities, before making a decision I must receive some answers to critical questions. First, will this action create ill will with Black Jack? We can ill afford to have that happen. Second, are you allowed by the Alliance to resign rather than obey that order? Will this action place you in violation of Alliance law? And, third, are you motivated in this matter purely by your relationship with Colonel Rogero, or are there other factors involved? Is your wish to serve Midway Star System conditional on Colonel Rogero?

“I require your answers before I can make an interim decision. I say interim because in a matter of this importance President Iceni would have to approve any final deal. For the people, Drakon, out.”

This time the fifteen minutes spent waiting for Bradamont’s reply seemed to take a very long time to pass.

Once again, she spoke with careful precision, trying to keep emotion from her words. “General, the orders I have received were not issued by Admiral Geary but by the admiral in charge of the fleet staff. Technically, that admiral has authority to issue such orders. From what I know of Admiral Geary, and from what he told me privately the last time I saw him, he would not approve of those orders. I believe that he would support my decision. I intend sending a private message to him back with the courier ship, explaining my reasons. As long as he knows this decision is mine, made freely, he will not hold it against you or anyone at Midway.

“If this were still a time of war, I would be prohibited by Alliance fleet regulations from resigning my commission. However, the Alliance is no longer legally at war. I took the time to research the regulations covering my current situation, and I am permitted to take this action. I…” She hesitated, her steely façade once again wavering a bit, “I am nonetheless likely to be branded a renegade and possibly a traitor to the Alliance by… certain parties. Legally, though, I have every right to make this decision as a citizen of the Alliance.

“You ask for my motivation. I would hope, based on those services I have been able to provide Midway Star System, that I would have earned the right to base my actions solely on my desire to remain with Colonel Rogero. But that is not my only reason. I have sacrificed that relationship to duty before this, and I would do so again if I believed it was necessary. Instead, I believe that duty now directs me to do all I can to continue to support you, and President Iceni, and all of those who fight to defend this star system and the new government you have built here.

“I want to stay and continue to help you, General, you and all of the citizens of this star system. I recognize that my status will have to be redefined, but I hope that can be accomplished in ways that allow me to follow my duty as I see it. To the honor of our ancestors, Bradamont, out.”

Drakon smiled as he thought about her reply. He should have expected that Bradamont would have all of her official ducks in a regulation row. “Captain Bradamont, on my authority as commanding officer of Midway’s ground forces and acting president in the absence of President Iceni, I hereby agree to your request, subject only to the approval of President Iceni upon her return, the exact terms of your remaining at Midway Star System to be determined later by mutual consent. Midway already owes you a great debt. I, personally, am extremely gratified that you wish to remain with us. Acknowledge receipt of this message and provide your acceptance of the terms I stated. For the people, Drakon, out.”

This time, Bradamont couldn’t hide her emotion. “Thank you, General. I accept the terms stated. I will inform the courier ship of my decision and my… resignation, and also provide it with the message for Admiral Geary. I will provide it as well with an update on the situation here which I have been keeping current in the event I would have an opportunity to send it. I cannot allow you to review that update before transmission because it is an official Alliance document, perhaps my last official act, but I assure you that nothing in it reflects badly on you or the president. I… thank you, sir. To the honor of our ancestors and our people, Bradamont, out.”

It wasn’t until the next day that he heard from her again. Bradamont looked a bit angry this time. “General Drakon, the courier ship’s commander has responded to my messages. He insists that I must return to communicate my decision in person, and that I must comply with the orders I received. In light of the diplomatic aspects of this situation, I am informing you of this matter and request your guidance. Bradamont, out.”

She was upset. Drakon considered the diplomatic issues, and the likelihood that Bradamont was as upset by the tone of whatever message the courier ship commander had sent as by the contents of that message.

A courier ship. An Alliance courier ship. And its commander was trying to play high-and-mighty with Captain Bradamont, who, all other issues aside, had always behaved with immaculate professionalism and was now effectively one of Drakon’s subordinates.

He felt a little upset, too.

Drakon touched the message command. “Captain Bradamont, I will be sending a reply directly to the courier ship, copied to you. Drakon, out.”

He checked the star system display, confirming that Gryphon and her escorts were orbiting within a few light minutes of the courier ship.

“To the Alliance courier vessel which has entered Midway Star System and so far not conducted routine identification and clearance procedures with Midway Star System authorities, this is General Drakon. I understand that you have a problem regarding an officer aboard one of our heavy cruisers. I have been assured by that officer that her response to you is within her legal and professional rights as a citizen of the Alliance, and I assure you that she has always represented the Alliance in a manner that has impressed everyone with whom she has come in contact.”

That wasn’t good enough. What would matter to Alliance people? Oh, yeah, that thing. “Her honor is unsurpassed and unblemished. It has deeply impressed all who have met her. Given the services that she has rendered to the Free and Independent Midway Star System, under her orders from Alliance Admiral Black Jack Geary, I have accepted her offer to remain here and continue the tasks that she was given by Alliance Admiral Black Jack Geary. Since Alliance Admiral Black Jack Geary personally negotiated with me the terms of Captain Bradamont’s assignment here, I will not have them redrawn by anyone but him, subject to the wishes of Captain Bradamont. I repeat that Captain Bradamont is aboard one of our warships, and that we will protect her from any threat or attempted coercion. You need not worry about her personal safety.”

What else? There had to be something else. What had Bradamont spoken of the most?

“I must add that Captain Bradamont has always championed the principles which she says the Alliance stands for, and has done much to make this star system a freer and more just place. If you have any further questions, direct them to me, as senior authority in this star system as acknowledged by Alliance Admiral Black Jack Geary. If you intend remaining in this star system, then you must request clearance. Heavy cruiser Gryphon will assist you in that process if you have any questions. For the people, Drakon, out.”

A little heavy-handed maybe, but no one listening to it could doubt that Bradamont had represented the Alliance well, and that Alliance Admiral Black Jack Geary wanted her here.

About nine hours later, Drakon was informed by his watch team that the Alliance courier ship had entered the hypernet gate, departing from Midway Star System without Captain Bradamont. He knew that it did have aboard not only his response, but also Bradamont’s message to Black Jack and her report to the Alliance about this star system. None of those things worried him.

The return of half of Midway’s flotilla to Iwa a few days later caused an initial rush of worry both because of so many ships not present and the battle damage visible on those that had returned. But coming in the wake of the light heralding their arrival were messages announcing the outcome of the Iwa campaign.

Drakon made a public announcement of the victory and of President Iceni’s return, declared a half-day holiday for all workers, then sat in his office, smiling.

“Aren’t you going to go out and celebrate, too?” Colonel Gozen asked.

“I’m celebrating,” Drakon said. “Why are you still here?”

“My boss hasn’t dismissed me,” Gozen said. “Otherwise I’d be out getting seriously drunk already.”

He gave her a look. “Be careful. The last time I got seriously drunk I did something seriously stupid.”

“I think everybody who ever got seriously drunk can say the same thing.” Gozen ran a searching gaze around the office. “I’m doubling security around the headquarters tonight. Anyone who wanted to get in might try to take advantage of the celebrating.”

“Good idea. Thanks.”

She left, and Drakon sat some more, then began assembling an update message for Gwen Iceni. That was his form of celebrating her return.

Given the time for light to cover the distance to Iceni aboard Midway and back, her eventual reply came late that evening. “Thank you for the congratulations, though I had far less to do with the outcome than others did. I’ll respect Captain Bradamont’s wishes and not inform Colonel Rogero before we reach you. I have to say, Artur, that your responses were surprisingly diplomatic. Not as diplomatic as they could have been, but from you they were models of careful phrasing.

“We’ll be in orbit the day after tomorrow. In light of her change of status, I’ve directed Captain Bradamont to turn over command of her flotilla’s ships to Kapitan Mercia and to take a shuttle down so she can meet us when our shuttle arrives. I am concerned by your news regarding our two loose cannons and hope that between us, you and I can figure out a way to deal with them. See you soon, Artur.”

He spent most of the intervening time reviewing and overseeing security for the return. Ideally, he would have brought Iceni’s shuttle down in the middle of a vast deserted area with the several kilometers closest to the landing site swept clear of every piece of cover and a vast array of weaponry pointed outward.

But Gwen wanted the people to see her. He knew why and how important it was, so Drakon tried to work out a way to have her among the citizens yet safe from attack.

The day of Iceni’s return was windy, wet, and gray at the shuttle landing site. That didn’t discourage the people who wanted to cheer her arrival and packed every open spot around the cordoned-off landing site. Drakon had put together an “honor guard” which was actually composed of his deadliest and most dependable special forces soldiers, commanded by Colonel Gozen, and arranged them so that they could cover every possible approach to those leaving the shuttle. Colonel Malin had seeded the crowd with countless microsensors designed to spot weapons before they could be employed and was monitoring the actions of Iceni’s own security teams.

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

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

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

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

“What?” Rogero stared at her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I like to think so,” Drakon said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And what about you, Colonel?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Drakon’s defensive array sounded an alert.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bradamont, her own weapon finally out, had moved to put her body between Iceni and where Morgan lay.

“Are you all right, Gwen?” Drakon asked Iceni, not taking his eyes or his weapon from Togo’s fallen body.

“I’m fine,” she said calmly. “Help is on the way.”

Gozen had almost reached Togo when his body twitched. She emptied the rest of her clip into him to ensure the almost unstoppable Togo wouldn’t be getting up again.

Several quick strides took Drakon to where Morgan lay. As Drakon moved he heard Rogero’s strained voice. “Colonel Malin is dead, sir.”

Drakon knelt next to Morgan, his gaze racing over the terrible wounds on her and coming to rest on her eyes, where the light of awareness somehow still gleamed. Those eyes rested on Drakon. “…got him?” Morgan managed to barely whisper.

“Togo is dead,” Drakon said, slowly and clearly, wanting to be sure she understood.

“For… you.” One of Morgan’s hands was still locked on her pistol, but the other relaxed from a fist, allowing a bloodied data coin to roll out onto the floor and drop to lie flat. “Ours… raise… her… Gen… ral.”

“I will,” Drakon promised. If Morgan had been carrying that data coin, she must have believed that she would not survive this mission. “Medics are on the way.”

Morgan’s eyes rolled to one side as if trying to see into the room. “Ma… lin?”

“Bran Malin is dead.”

“Damn.” The word was barely audible. “I… al… ways… knew…”

Drakon saw the light go from her eyes and bowed his head, remembering the young officer who had joined his staff and served him so well for so long. He wished he remembered some of the beliefs that the Syndicate had worked to stomp out, that he remembered enough to say the right words to plead for Morgan’s spirit. The reality of Malin’s death hit home at the same moment, and he sent a wordless plea to whatever might be out there to welcome them both.

What had her last words meant? If it had been the old days, Drakon had no doubt they would have ended with a contemptuous dismissal. I always knew he’d fail, or something like that.

But even in the immediate aftermath of the exchange of fire, Drakon knew that Morgan could have gotten off the first shot, could possibly have killed Togo in that instant. But she had instead chosen to avoid hitting Malin.

Had she been about to say that she had always known that Malin was her son? When faced with the ultimate choice, had she sacrificed herself for him?

He would never know.

Drakon picked up the data coin carefully and stood, looking over at Iceni. “Are you sure you’re all right, Gwen?”

“Not a scratch.” She put away her own weapon as guards and on-call medics finally stormed into the room.

One medic checked Malin and immediately confirmed Rogero’s assessment.

“He’s gone. Zero recovery chance.”

Another medic checked Togo and unsurprisingly announced that he was also beyond help.

A third reached Morgan and quickly scanned her. The medic gave Drakon an anxious look. “She has died, with multiple critical injuries, but there’s a chance we could revive her and keep her going, sir. Not high, but it’s there.”

Drakon looked down on Morgan’s still face. Was it just his imagination that saw there a serenity she had never revealed in her stormy life? “No. Don’t try a revival.”

Perhaps Morgan had not finally found her own peace. But as long as there was any chance that she had, he would not haul her back.

“Sir,” the medic said as he got up, “I should mention that she’s also got a badly healed injury to one leg that must have slowed her down, but that happened probably a few months ago. A rebuild unit could have fixed her up, but it would have required a few weeks of immobility to repair that much damage.”

“Colonel Morgan clearly didn’t think she could spare that amount of time immobilized,” Drakon said. He could easily imagine her shrugging when asked about it. “I had things I needed to do, General.”

Iceni came to stand beside him as the medics left, looking down at Morgan. “She saved your life.”

“Our lives.”

“No. Togo was trying to kill you, not me. Just as we thought. Right to the end he thought he was being loyal to me. But, from her position in this room, Morgan might have been planning to take me out. See? Look at the lines of sight. That meant she was slightly out of position to target Togo, but saving you was more important to her than killing me.”

Drakon wanted to argue the point, but knew Iceni might well be right. “Two assassins who canceled each other out, and poor Bran Malin who took the shots that would have killed me.” His gaze met Iceni’s eyes. “He would have done the same for you.”

“I know, and he did do it for me as well as for you. Malin took many risks for us. Without him as an intermediary to establish covert contact between us, we never would have worked together and would have both died at the hands of the snakes instead of successfully rebelling.” She pointed to the bloodied data coin. “What’s that?”

He looked at it. “Unless I miss my guess, this contains directions for finding my daughter and getting to her safely. Morgan… asked me to raise her.”

Iceni paused, then nodded. “I couldn’t ask you to abandon your daughter.”

Drakon shook his head in reply. “I couldn’t ask you to accept the daughter of myself and Morgan as our own.”

“Excuse me, but I couldn’t ask you first. She is your daughter, too.” Iceni tilted her head to indicate where Malin’s body lay. “And he was her son. Obviously, her blood has some good qualities.” She shifted her gaze from the body of Morgan to that of Togo, then to Malin. “What exactly were they loyal to, Artur? Their own dreams. To what they thought we were, you and I. To what, in their eyes, we could become. The past lies dead around us. You and I need to continue to create the future that we want to see.”

“We couldn’t have achieved a chance at that future without their help,” Drakon said. “They made it possible. And then it passed them by.”

Gwen Iceni reached out and took his hand. “I won’t let another innocent suffer, Artur Drakon. There’s been too much of that. Find your daughter, and we will raise her as ours. Someday, she will be the sword and the shield that protects what you and I have built.”