Tarnished Knight

Chapter Nine

Alarms sounded on the cruiser, targeting systems that hadn’t been impacted by the transition from jump space locking on to the large ship near the jump exit but waiting for human approval before they fired. Using tricks she had learned long ago, Iceni managed to fight off the disorientation caused by jump exit and grimly focused on her display.

There was something big there, all right.

Nervous laughter erupted on the bridge as everyone else recovered enough to view their own displays.

“A freighter,” Marphissa said. The huge, boxy merchant ship loomed within less than a light-minute of the jump point, clearly headed outward with its cargo. The Syndicate Worlds might be collapsing, violence and economic uncertainty might be breaking out everywhere, but business was still business. “Should we intercept it?”

“No,” Iceni replied. “We need trade to continue in this region. We need to encourage people to trade with us. Wish the freighter’s crew well and assure them that Midway remains safe for everyone who wishes to do business there.”

While Marphissa did that, Iceni studied her display. They had arrived at a jump point only five light-hours out from the star Kane, whose solar system was smaller in diameter than that of Midway’s. The nearest planet to the flotilla was only twenty light-minutes away, far enough from the star’s warmth to be very cold indeed. Closer in to the star were two gas giants, one at three light-hours from the star and another one and a half light-hours out. Beyond them, close enough to Kane to benefit from the heat of the star, were three inner planets, one a bit too cold for comfortable human habitation, one a bit too hot, and the third, at only seven light-minutes from Kane, just right in human terms. It was that planet that held the bulk of the human presence in the star system, in towns and cities clinging to the edges of continents that remained mostly unsettled.

But it was that gas giant one and a half light-hours from the star that held Iceni’s attention. She could see the mobile forces facility orbiting that gas giant and see one of the large moons that also orbited the planet, but there was no sign of the battleship. Either it truly was hidden behind the curve of the planet, or her information had been false and the mission a fool’s errand.

It would be nearly five hours before the people on Kane’s main inhabited world saw the arrival of the flotilla, but Iceni knew she should send them a message to arrive at about the same time as the light showing the arrival of the warships. What the message should be had depended on what she found when they arrived here.

“No fighting apparent anywhere in the star system,” Kommodor Marphissa commented. “Only peaceful communications and movement detected.” She pointed. “But we do have opposition to worry about.”

About four light-hours from the flotilla, orbiting Kane close to where the gas giant swung about the same star, were several warships. “One heavy cruiser, three light cruisers, and six Hunter-Killers,” the operations specialist confirmed with unusual speed. Since Iceni had ordered their line worker ratings changed to specialist designations, the morale of the crew had shot upward remarkably.

Iceni rubbed her chin, trying to read significance in the positioning of those forces. “Can we tell if the Syndicate Worlds still controls this star system, or has someone else taken over?” Midway, with its hypernet gate and strategic importance, had also gained a more substantial ISS presence than less important star systems had to deal with. Some, like Kane, which had a decent world for humanity but nothing otherwise special to distinguish them, were backwaters that since the discovery of the hypernet had seen little interest from the Syndicate Worlds. While that had kept Kane from receiving much investment, it had also kept the numbers of snakes and their facilities to much lower levels. Until recently, if Kane had bucked Syndicate authority, it would have been only a matter of time before the central government sent mobile forces in either to accept unconditional subservience or pound the planet into surrender, a much more cost-efficient solution than stationing a large ISS presence in the star system.

But who did the mobile forces here now answer to? Are they still enforcing Syndicate rule? Not knowing that made it hard for Iceni to decide who to present herself as.

“All of the communications we’re seeing reflect Syndicate Worlds’ procedures and use their nomenclature,” the communications specialist said.

“Which might just mean they haven’t changed anything yet,” Iceni muttered. I have to go with my gut on this, and my instincts tell me that so far the Syndicate Worlds is still running things here. Maybe the authorities in Kane are just paying lip service to the Syndicate Worlds, but I don’t think that they’ve formally abandoned Syndicate rule.

She tabbed her own communication controls, placing a real-appearing avatar of a woman who didn’t look like her to appear as the sender when the message went out. “This is CEO Janusa, operating on orders from the Syndicate Worlds’ government on Prime. We have just arrived from Midway, having reestablished Syndicate control in that star system, and will proceed to your mobile forces facility for resupply and refitting. For the people, Janusa, out.”

Kommodor Marphissa gave her a slight smile. “I suppose if you want someone to impersonate a Syndicate CEO, using a real CEO is the way to go.”

“Former CEO,” Iceni corrected, but smiled back. “There is a certain attitude, a way of talking, that becomes habit. They won’t have any files on a CEO Janusa here, but Kane doesn’t get all that much traffic from elsewhere in Syndicate space, so their news was always far behind developments elsewhere. If they ask who I am, I’ll tell them that I was recently promoted by the new government on Prime.”

“Do you believe they will let us proceed to their mobile forces facility?”

“If they do without any objection, it may well mean that our intelligence was faulty or that the battleship has already left. But if they object and attempt to delay our going there, it will be a strong sign that our prey is indeed present. We won’t wait for their reply, Kommodor. Order the flotilla on a vector to intercept the mobile forces facility.”

“At what velocity… CEO Janusa?”

Iceni only pondered that for a moment. “Point one light speed. I am a brash, new CEO. I have no time to waste plodding through an unimportant star system. I have important business elsewhere, and I want everyone watching to know that I am important and have important business to conduct.”

“I will keep your importance in all matters in mind, CEO Janusa,” Marphissa replied.

“That’s how you have always dealt with CEOs, isn’t it?” Iceni asked, her earlier mockery shifting to an unpleasant self-appraisal. “We are all so important.”

Marphissa was bold enough to answer truthfully. “Not all CEOs were alike, but all had to be treated the same way.”

“OBSTLT,” Iceni added sardonically.

“Or Be Subject to Life Termination,” Marphissa agreed. “I chose to back you, all of the commanders of these warships chose to back you, because we believed you were different enough in important ways.”

“You backed me because you saw an opportunity for greater advancement.”

“That was not the only reason, and in some cases not the reason at all.” Kommodor Marphissa grinned. “I have just contradicted a CEO to her face.”

“You obviously haven’t made a habit of that in the past.” Iceni regarded her carefully. “What is it you want, Kommodor? You and the others?”

“We want you to care as much about what happens to us as you do about what happens to you.”

“You don’t believe in asking for small things, do you?” Iceni looked back at her display. “I have a responsibility to those who work for me. Don’t assume that makes me some sort of… humanitarian.”

“I would not presume to accuse you of such a thing, Madam President.”

“Good.” Iceni let her gaze rest on the inhabited planet. Nearly five light-hours distant, so her message would not be received there until that time had elapsed, and any reply would take at least as long even if sent immediately. At least ten hours before she received any answer, and she had slept poorly earlier due to worries about what they would find here at Kane. “I am going to get some rest. Notify Colonel Rogero that it will be approximately forty hours before we expect to employ his ground forces. And notify me of any significant changes in the situation.”

“Yes, Madam President,” Marphissa said, all business again. “What about the readiness state of the warships? Do you wish them maintained at condition one?”

“No.” There had been times when Iceni had been under the command of CEOs who kept their crews at maximum combat readiness for days at a time so they would be “ready for anything.” The actual result had been that the crews were totally exhausted when they finally encountered the enemy, and thus far from being ready. She would not repeat that mistake. “Bring the warships back to standard cruising readiness state. Make sure every unit commander knows that I want the crews well rested when we get close to that gas giant.” There wasn’t anything humanitarian about that, either. It was simply good planning.

Nonetheless, the wave of relief that swept through the junior officers and specialists on the bridge was so strong that it almost felt like a physical thing. Iceni suppressed a smile, recalling the days when she had resigned herself to indefinite time on a bridge duty station while the enemy was still several light-hours distant. Everyone on the bridge knew that their target was a battleship, yet all of them seemed confident and cheerful. She could not understand it.

As Iceni closed the hatch on her stateroom, she felt the sense of respite that came from being behind a locked barrier. How long had it been since she could go out among others without worrying about who was at her back?

She felt more confident about Marphissa, though. The woman showed every sign of being smart, capable, loyal, and willing to speak truth to power. That last was often regarded by CEOs and sub-CEOs as an annoyance at best, but Iceni knew the value of that quality in a subordinate when married with the other virtues. Assuming that Marphissa really was all of those things, particularly loyal.

Did they really decide to back me because they thought I would care what happened to them? I suppose I do care, to the extent that I wouldn’t abandon them to the enigmas when things seemed hopeless. That was my responsibility as the CEO in charge of the star system. That’s how I operate—I do my job right—and not taking care of them now, when my fate rests on how well they perform in battle, would be foolish.

She lay on her bunk, gazing upward, wondering why the memory of the cheerful confidence in the crew made her feel rewarded. Their opinions didn’t matter. They didn’t matter. She had been taught that all of her professional life.

But, then, she had rebelled against what she had been taught, hadn’t she?

Because that system had failed.

“CEO Janusa.” The man sending the message seemed to be cautiously welcoming. Iceni didn’t recognize him. “I am CEO Reynard. Welcome to Kane. I congratulate you on your victory in the Midway Star System and would be appreciative if you would forward me the details of the fighting there so that I can learn from your example.”

He’s not a CEO. He’s talking like a sub-CEO, trying to flatter me as a way of gaining information. Interesting.

“CEO Reynard” had taken on a concerned look. “I must inform you that our mobile forces facility orbiting the fourth planet was recently picked clean of supplies by another Syndicate flotilla. If you will instead proceed to the second planet, I will ensure that your flotilla receives any support that it requires. That will allow you to resupply as quickly as possible so you can proceed with your assignment. For the people, Reynard, out.”

So, “Reynard,” what is your real name and what is your real game? Have the Syndicate Worlds been overthrown here? What happened to CEO Chan, who was in control here the last I heard? He could have been swept up by the snakes, in which case you could be a Syndicate replacement, promoted rapidly after the ISS cleaned out the CEO ranks in this star system.

He also seems eager for us to leave. One thing I can be certain of is that “Reynard” doesn’t want us going to the gas giant. That’s a good sign. “Maintain course for the mobile forces facility about the gas giant,” Iceni ordered Marphissa.

She thought about her next step, then activated her comms.

“This is CEO Janusa responding to CEO Reynard. Unfortunately, I lack the time for a diversion to the second planet of this star system. My flotilla will proceed to the mobile forces facility, where I am certain I will be able to acquire whatever I need. For the people, Janusa, out.”

Another message. “This is CEO Janusa to the commander of the flotilla located near the fourth planet of this star system. I am here under direct orders from the government at Prime. I wish to be contacted by your commander as soon as possible. There are urgent requirements that necessitate changing your tasking.” Those requirements being the need to get you farther away from that mobile forces facility so I can have a free hand there.

“CEO Janusa is really throwing her weight around,” Kommodor Marphissa commented after Iceni finished sending the second message.

“She’s a real bitch,” Iceni agreed. “That will ensure that no one questions whether she’s a real CEO. Have you had any luck informally contacting the commanders of any of the warships in that other flotilla?”

“I’ve sent them some feelers via the unauthorized back channels in the comm system, but no replies yet.”

“Let me know the instant there are. I’d much rather collect those warships as additions to my flotilla than have to fight them.”

They were twenty-eight hours’ travel time from the mobile forces facility.

The next message came seven hours later, from the facility orbiting the gas giant rather than the inhabited planet. “CEO Janusa, please alter vector and proceed to the second planet. I regret to inform you that we have had an outbreak of serious illness following the last flotilla’s visit to this facility. We have yet to identify a successful treatment. More than half of our personnel are already incapacitated. For the people, this is acting facility commander Sub-CEO Petrov, out.”

“She looks in good health for someone overseeing a plague-struck facility,” Iceni commented. “Kommodor Marphissa, I want your ship’s physician to evaluate the appearance in this message of Sub-CEO Petrov, if that is indeed her real name.”

Marphissa passed on the order, then turned to Iceni. “If they are suffering from possible plague conditions, then regulations call for the facility to have already been broadcasting a standard warn-off when we arrived in this star system. Instead, this message comes at a time delay consistent with having received orders to send it from the authorities on the second planet after those authorities had heard your reply to their request that you divert there.”

“What an astounding coincidence.”

Listening to an internal message, Marphissa nodded. “Understood,” she said. “Madam President, my unit’s physician says that Sub-CEO Petrov was clearly under stress when she sent the message but showed no signs of illness or long-term stress outside normal parameters for a sub-CEO.”

Iceni watched the slow changes in the positions of objects on her display as her flotilla raced steadily toward the gas giant, and as the planets, moons, asteroids, and comets in the Kane Star System swung much more slowly about their sun or each other. “The flotilla near the gas giant still hasn’t moved. How long can they wait to move and still be able to intercept us before we reach a position where we can see behind the curve of that planet?”

“Approximately…” Marphissa shrugged. “Three hours before we reach the gas giant. It depends on just where behind the curve the battleship is located.”

Something didn’t feel right, and Iceni finally knew what it was. “They’re trying to warn us off. We’ve ignored the warn-offs. You know how things work. If the first admonition or threat doesn’t work, you escalate until you find something that the other side has to pay attention to. What do they have that we would have to pay attention to?”

Marphissa’s frown only lasted a moment. “A battleship.”

“Yes. If they swing out that battleship and say ‘Stay out, this is a restricted area,’ even CEO Janusa would have to listen. They haven’t done that yet, though.” Neither had the flotilla commander replied to her direct order to contact her. That was also odd. “Still not a word from any unit in that other flotilla?”

“No, Madam President. Nothing.”

Iceni frowned. “When I was executive rank and even sub-CEO, that would have been very unusual. We always contacted by back channel other units we encountered to pick up the latest unauthorized information so we could anticipate events or prepare personal defenses against negative actions.” But no one in their right mind would ever have admitted to a superior that they did it. She had sometimes wondered how much more the Syndicate Worlds might have accomplished if its executives didn’t expend so much effort working internal politics. The war had often seemed to take a backseat to inner power struggles.

“Really?” Kommodor Marphissa asked, trying to project surprised innocence. “If that sort of thing still happened, and of course I’m not saying it ever does, but if it somehow did, I would expect it to happen under these circumstances. But it hasn’t.”

“Somebody has even the back doors locked down,” Iceni mused. “Have the snakes slaughtered the crews on those warships like they did on HuK-6336?”

“If they did, they could be at a disadvantage in a battle. They’ll only be able to operate the units using automatic controls since they might lack the crew to do the jobs otherwise.” Marphissa eyed her display. “Or there could have been a revolution, and the crews of those units don’t want to give themselves away to us since we have superior numbers.”

“All possibilities.” Iceni stabbed an internal comm control. “Colonel Rogero, have you been monitoring ground forces communications in this star system?”

“Yes, Madam President.”

From the way he always carried himself and spoke, Rogero seemed to be even more professional than Drakon’s praise had indicated. It made all the more mysterious his lapse in getting emotionally involved with an enemy officer. Unless that enemy officer was something truly exceptional herself. And there’s no sense asking Rogero that question because if he’s in love, he’ll think she’s the only woman like her that has ever been or will ever be. Love has far too negative an impact on anyone’s ability to think clearly. “Is there anything out of the ordinary at all?”

“Only one thing. All communications appear to be routine.”

“And that is out of the ordinary?” Iceni asked.

“It is when we’re here, Madam President. There should have been some reaction, some discussion, something to reflect our presence. There has been nothing.”

“Can you tell me what that means, Colonel?”

“No. It is unexpected and unusual. That’s all I can say. Wait.” Rogero had turned and was talking to someone else, then faced Iceni again. “My comm analyst has found no signs of comms with any ground forces that might indicate those forces are aboard a battleship near the gas giant. They wouldn’t be communicating directly with such forces if they wanted to hide their presence from us, but there are always leaks in other comms where someone references supplies or a personnel movement or something else that compromises the secret. We haven’t seen anything like that.”

“So all we will face are crew members?” That was good news.

“Madam President, it appears unlikely that there are any ground forces aboard that mobile unit, but if a force of vipers or other snakes is on that battleship, we wouldn’t be able to tell. The ISS is very good at concealing information within apparently routine communications.”

Perhaps not good news after all, then. “I appreciate your assessment, Colonel. We will be at the gas giant in twenty hours. How long will it take your soldiers to board the shuttles when I order an assault on the battleship?”

“Two minutes. We will be armored up and ready.” Rogero hesitated. “You do realize that if a major portion of the battleship’s weaponry is active, our shuttles will not survive to reach the mobile unit. A shuttle’s survival time on that kind of an approach is measured in seconds.”

“I understand.” She hadn’t realized the odds against the shuttles would be that bad, but it probably depended upon just how much of the battleship’s weaponry had been activated.

After Rogero had signed off, Iceni considered her remaining options. There weren’t many other things that she could do to influence events right now, but there was one big thing remaining in her arsenal of surprises. “When we’re closer to the gas giant,” she told Marphissa, “I will drop the disguise, tell them who I am and what we represent. If they are snakes, that will bring them out of hiding. If they aren’t, they’ll know they can avoid a fight.” Twenty hours left until they reached the facility, and likely seventeen hours until the other flotilla moved.

Iceni gazed at the representation on her display of her own flotilla. The warships were in the standard Syndicate mobile forces formation, a box with the three heavy cruisers side by side in the middle, the four light cruisers posted at the rear corners of the box, four of the HuKs at the front corners, and the other three HuKs just below the heavy cruisers in the center of the box. A simple arrangement, with firepower concentrated in the center, and easy to shift direction without changing the configuration of units because all the warships had to do was swing together onto new vectors. It had worked for decades against the Alliance, if by “worked” one meant that it allowed the Syndicate Worlds’ flotillas to slug it out with Alliance fleets until the survivors on whichever side prevailed could claim victory.

And then Black Jack had shown up, and massive flotillas started disappearing, wiped out in battles with the fleet led by him. I’ve seen what records we have of the battles. He used all kinds of different formations, swinging them all over in every direction, somehow bringing them all together at the right moment to hammer our flotillas. What I wouldn’t give for lessons from Black Jack on how to control a force of warships in battle. But what do I have that he would want? Access to our star system? I can’t deny him that. He has a fleet that dwarfs anything I could muster.

Is he the sort of man who craves conquering every woman he meets? If so, that would give me one thing to offer. He can’t have had many Syndicate CEOs. But that doesn’t match what I’ve heard of him, or how he acted when we spoke, and… and I really don’t want to do that. If it was mutual desire, that would be one thing, but if it was for some gain then I would be selling myself, and for all my sins that is one thing I have avoided. Perhaps my rivals would define my actions differently, but that’s what I believe.

“Madam President, is something wrong?” Marphissa asked.

Aware that some of her inner turmoil must have been showing, Iceni put on a mask of straightforward thoughtfulness. “I was just contemplating our formation and whether I should change it if we have to fight.”

“I think that depends on the status of the battleship,” Marphissa suggested.

She was right. Iceni nodded. “I’ll make the decision when I have the necessary information.”

So far, though, necessary information seemed to be in short supply in the Kane Star System.

This time, “CEO Reynard” had on a more aggressive front, perhaps because Iceni’s flotilla was only five hours’ travel time from the mobile forces facility by the time the message from him was received. “CEO Janusa, access to the mobile forces facility has been restricted by order of the Syndicate Worlds. You are required to divert your flotilla from its current course and proceed to the second planet, where your supply needs will be met, after which you can proceed on your missions outside this star system. Failure to comply with this direction will constitute disobedience to a directive of the Syndicate Worlds. For the people, Reynard, out.”

Iceni considered her reply. Events were reaching the point at which decisions would take on momentum that would be hard to alter in the time remaining. What would most likely produce the reactions she needed from the people in Kane, and in particular those in the warships in the other flotilla?

“It is time to announce our true colors,” Iceni said to the others on the bridge before she triggered her own comm controls to broadcast. This time, she deactivated the avatar so that everyone would see her true appearance.

“People of the Kane Star System, this is President Iceni of the independent star system of Midway. Midway has thrown off the yoke of the Syndicate Worlds and no longer answers to the CEOs of the weak, corrupt, and incompetent government on Prime. As the Syndicate Worlds crumbles, it is time for the star systems of this region to join together for mutual protection and support, so we can follow those courses of action in our best interests rather than the orders of distant masters who represent a failed approach. Distant rulers who would take our wealth, demand our obedience in all things, and give nothing in return. Only we can defend ourselves. Only we can ensure the safety of our homes.

“The ISS at Midway has been wiped out. We are no longer forced to bow to the snakes. I urge you to join us. My flotilla will support your struggle. To any who still wish to follow the decrees issued by the dead hand of the Syndicate Worlds, I tell you not to seek to hinder our movements or actions. We will fight, and we will win. For the people, Iceni, out.”

She turned to Marphissa. “Contact the other flotilla again. You personally. I want them to hear from someone else in a mobile forces command role talking directly to them.”

“Yes, Madam President.” Marphissa sat silent for several seconds, then activated her own comms. “Warships of the Kane flotilla, this is Kommodor Marphissa of the Midway flotilla. Join with us to defend this region against aggression and disorder, join with us to defend all that we hold dear. We truly fight for our people now. If you choose not to join with forces of the independent star system of Midway, you must avoid any fight with us, or we will annihilate you. For the people, Marphissa, out.”

The messages were going out at the speed of light, but it would take them a while to reach their destinations. “In about half an hour, when our messages reach the other flotilla, all hell is going to start breaking loose in this star system,” Marphissa predicted.

“I wish I could see the reaction on the second planet when the messages get there,” Iceni replied. “The important thing is that it will take an hour and a half for my message to reach that planet, and another hour and a half for any response from the planetary authorities to reach the warships in the other flotilla. They’ll have nearly three hours to make up their own minds on what to do before they receive orders from their bosses on the second planet.”

There was nothing left to do then but sit and watch. Iceni didn’t want to be distracted when something finally did happen, so she avoided the urge to pull up some work documents or a novel or a twitch-and-move game and instead just stared at her display. She discovered that hitting one command produced an expanding sphere image that represented the message she had sent, spreading at the speed of light through the star system. On a display covering such a wide area, the bubble appeared to move slowly but steadily, sweeping across installations, planets, warships, and merchant ships. Iceni got a kick out of seeing when her message actually arrived at each location.

But she wouldn’t have any idea what their reactions would be until the light from those movements reached her. Iceni found she could activate reaction bubbles, showing how long it would take her to see such activity, but the swarm of expanding bubbles quickly merged into a welter of foam in which it was too hard to make out individual expansion waves. She wiped out that option, couldn’t seem to locate a simpler one, and glowered at the display. I will not be one of those clueless CEOs who can’t carry out simple functions without some lowest-level untrained worker showing me how to enter the commands. I’ll just work it out in my head. Thirty light-minutes to the other flotilla. That means thirty minutes until they received the messages from us, during which time we get three light-minutes closer to them at point one light speed. Then the light showing their reaction needs to come back to us, which will take… about twenty-five, twenty-six minutes as we keep closing on them. Close to an hour, even if those other warships react immediately.

Space is too damned big.

“Vector changes on the other flotilla.”

The announcement by the maneuvering specialist jerked Iceni out of the light nap she had dropped into without realizing it. Blinking away sleep, she tried to make out the movement on her display.

“Coming around toward an intercept on us,” Marphissa commented. “We’ll have to see where they steady out, but I’d bet that they’re coming toward us.”

“But why are they coming toward us?” Iceni demanded. Everything had once been easy. If they were Alliance warships and they came toward you, it meant they wanted to fight. If they were Syndicate warships, they wanted to join up. But now Alliance warships might be friendly, Syndicate warships were likely to be hostile, and she didn’t even know who these warships were answering to, let alone if they were readying for a fight. “Kommodor Marphissa, if we have not heard anything from that other flotilla within the next five minutes, you are to inform them that we will destroy them as soon as they enter weapons range.”

“The Kane flotilla is steadying out at point one light speed, on a direct intercept with us,” the maneuvering watch reported. “Time to contact, two hours and twenty-one minutes.”

“Still no battleship,” Iceni muttered.

“They may not have one,” Marphissa said.

“Then why do they want to keep us away from that gas giant?”

The warning went out, but still no reply. Iceni sat watching the distance close, her irritation rising with every second that passed without any communication from the other flotilla. Even if they say they want to join us now, I think I’ll still order them to be blown away.

“Incoming message.” The comms specialist paused. “It’s not from the flotilla.”

“Show me,” Iceni ordered.

A window opened to show a junior officer standing on what was clearly the bridge of a battleship. If the sub-CEO on the mobile forces facility had shown only normal levels of stress, this executive was clearly in far worse straits. His uniform showed signs of having been worn for days or weeks, his face was lean in a way that evoked thoughts of very limited rations, and his eyes held an almost feverish intensity. “This is Sub-Executive Kontos, acting commander of the mobile forces unit B-78, to… to… President Iceni.” Kontos paused to lick his lips and clear his throat as if speaking distinctly was an effort.

“A subexecutive commanding a battleship?” Marphissa commented. “Has that ever happened?”

“During battles, when a crew was almost wiped out,” Iceni replied.

Kontos started speaking again. “We are barricaded within the primary citadels. We are the… survivors of the outfitting crew. Myself and… a number of line workers. We control the bridge, engineering, and the primary fire-control center.” Kontos was clearly doing his best to recite a correct report but occasionally stumbled over the words. “We… have been able to hold out because of the internal armor and the… antimutiny defenses.”

“Who are you holding out against?” Iceni mumbled angrily.

“The ISS,” Kontos said, as if answering her question. “We… don’t know how many. They overran some locations… My last order received was to… seal ourselves inside critical control areas and… wait for relief. We have not heard anything since… except demands… from the ISS… that we surrender. External comms have… been… blocked, but we managed a work-around in time to… hear your message.”

“The snakes have taken over here,” Marphissa said, her voice hardening.

“That explains it all, doesn’t it?” Iceni said. “The snakes wiped out the officers and who knows how much of the crews on those warships. The only thing I don’t understand is why they didn’t order CEO Janusa to assist them.”

“Perhaps they actually knew who you were despite the avatar and have known you were playing them. If you’d gone to the second planet and docked our warships at one of their facilities for resupply, we might have been overwhelmed by boarding parties before we could get away.”

“Oh, damn. You’re likely right. That’s where they’d have access to enough personnel to do that.”

“We request assistance,” Sub-Executive Kontos asked. His voice cracked on the last word, and Kontos sagged a moment before straightening to attention again. “We know they’re bringing… breaching gear strong enough to get into the citadels. Request… assistance.”

The message began to repeat, then abruptly cut off.

“The snakes found their work-around and blocked it,” Marphissa commented.

“Sub-CEO—” The operations specialist caught herself. “Kommodor, we’ve been tracking a freighter moving at a good clip toward that gas giant. It fit the profile of a rush resupply mission, so we haven’t paid much attention to it, but it might be bringing the breaching gear for the snakes.”

“As well as more snakes, no doubt. Can we get there before it does?” Marphissa asked.

“It will beat us by about ten minutes if we hold our vector.”

Iceni nodded slowly. We charge in at best speed, brake hard, blow away that freighter, and get our ground forces on that battleship. Simple. As well as incredibly complicated to carry out.

“It could be a trap,” Marphissa cautioned. “To get us in there close to the battleship. If its armament is operational, we could sustain enough damage that the flotilla here could finish us off.”

“It could be,” Iceni agreed. “But if so, that subexecutive is the best actor I’ve ever seen. Certainly a lot better than ‘CEO Reynard’ or ‘Sub-CEO Petrov.’ Are you bringing up a possibility, or do you believe this is a trap?”

Marphissa sat watching her display for a moment before answering. “Only a possibility. If it were a trap, they could have sent us a message from Sub-Executive Kontos a long time ago to see what we would do. I think the snakes had been willing to starve out the survivors from the outfitting crew. That would cause less damage to the battleship than breaking into the antimutiny citadels. When we showed up, the snakes knew they had to get the breaching equipment there and crack open the bridge. But because we came in this quickly and straight for the gas giant, they haven’t had enough time.”

“Then let’s go save Sub-Executive Kontos and his brave line workers, Kommodor.”