Tarnished Knight

Chapter Three

Iceni felt a sense of familiarity as she walked through the passageways of the cruiser. One of her first junior-executive assignments had been on such a warship, and there hadn’t been any major design changes in the years since then. That C-333 had been destroyed in a battle (to be seamlessly replaced by another C-333) two months after Iceni had transferred to another assignment, continuing on her path upward through executive ranks, cultivating mentors and connections, discrediting and outmaneuvering rivals. Eventually, she had briefly commanded flotillas of mobile forces, surviving a few bloody battles with Alliance warships whose crews had an ugly yet admirable tendency to fight to the bitter end, before a snake loyalty sweep had left a star system without a senior CEO, and one of Iceni’s mentors had rigged the replacement process in her favor.

She laughed very softly at the memory, drawing a brief glance from Executive Marphissa walking beside her. “What would you do, Executive, if you stumbled across a major smuggling and tax-evasion scheme that seemed to have no senior CEO involvement?”

Marphissa frowned. “I’d report it, of course. There’d be rewards for whoever did that.”

“You would think so,” Iceni replied, “except that in fact a very senior CEO at Prime had her fingers deeply into that scheme, and she wasn’t happy at all to lose the income it had generated.”

“That’s how you ended up at Midway, Madam CEO?” Marphissa asked.

“That’s how I ended up at Midway. Promoted to senior CEO of a star system facing an unknown foe and as far from anything as any star in Syndicate space as a ‘reward,’ while the other CEO went on to bigger and better things on Prime.” Iceni grinned. “She was there when Black Jack showed up again with the Alliance fleet.”

“How tragic for her,” Marphissa commented. “I ended up here because I had a brother who was accused of treason by a sub-CEO who wanted his position.”

Iceni had already known that, of course, but the records available to her had left one gap. “Did the sub-CEO also encounter Black Jack’s fleet?”

“No. He died just before I transferred. An unfortunate accident.”

Iceni raised one eyebrow at her. “How tragic for him. And just before you left. An accident, you say?”

Executive Marphissa’s expression remained professionally detached. “The official investigation determined that his death had been accidental.”

“Accidents do happen.” So Marphissa had managed to avenge herself without being caught, which implied that the executive had some skill sets that could be very useful for Iceni. Marphissa had also made a point of subtly letting Iceni know that. I need to keep my eye on this one. She has a lot of promise. “But I don’t like being surprised by accidents.”

“If I know of any accidents that might occur, I will be sure to inform the CEO in a timely manner.” Marphissa glanced at her. “There are many uncertainties in battles fought with mobile forces, though, and sometimes surprises. How much command experience do you have in space, Madam CEO?”

“Some time with the mobile forces. Perhaps seven years total. It’s been five years since I commanded a flotilla, though.” Her control of this ship, of the entire situation, rested on her ability to appear to be the best, most competent, and most believable leader in this star system. But something told Iceni that Marphissa was not the sort of subordinate to be easily fooled by a confident demeanor.

“That’s something,” Marphissa said. “Enough to know what to expect. And you will not be alone on the bridge.” She faded back as they reached the bridge, letting Akiri and Iceni enter before her.

The cruiser’s bridge felt a bit cramped after the D-class battle cruiser she had last employed as a flagship. Sub-CEO Akiri rapped out orders as he walked to his command seat. “Assume modified battle-alert status. CEO Iceni has assumed direct command of all mobile forces.”

“Do we have status reports from the rest of the mobile forces?” Iceni demanded, taking her seat in the position next to the commanding officer’s place as her bodyguard assumed a station near the entrance to the bridge. It had taken considerable effort to accumulate the flotilla in this star system even though it was but a pale shadow of the old Reserve Flotilla that had once protected the region. But she had concocted plausible reasons to hang on to mobile forces that were supposed to go to missions elsewhere, had convinced a few mobile forces passing through to remain, and had ceased using Hunter-Killers as couriers back to Prime once it became clear that Prime wasn’t returning any mobile forces the central government got its hands on. It had taken a combination of ruthless use of her authority, more than a little bluffing, and occasional orders “lost” after they arrived in the star system but before they reached the mobile forces. But once the recall order for the entire flotilla came through, something impossible to lose the way lesser communications had been made to vanish, both she and Drakon had realized that they had to move before Kolani became aware of it even if the other orders for Hardrad hadn’t already forced their hands.

The fruits of her labors were six heavy cruisers including the one she was now aboard, five light cruisers, and a pitiful twelve Hunter-Killers. That entire flotilla would have been lost in the fleet Black Jack had once again brought through this star system not long ago. But measured against what was available to the Syndicate government or any other local authorities in this region of space, the flotilla might be enough to protect this star system.

If she could both win a fight against Kolani and not lose too many of those warships in the process.

On the display that came to life before her, Iceni could see the orbits of all of those mobile forces. So far, none of them had started to move out of its assigned orbit. The units close to Kolani’s flagship were ten light-minutes distant from the planet, so they would not have heard or seen any signs of trouble until ten minutes after Drakon’s attack went in. At least the lack of reaction before those ten minutes had elapsed meant that they hadn’t received any tip-offs that Drakon and Iceni were about to act. Kolani had wanted to keep the flotilla concentrated together, but Iceni had been able to use her own authority and some plausible-enough reasons to divide the flotilla into three portions.

One group, in orbit near the planet because Iceni had insisted she needed an easily visible deterrent to rebellion, held three of the heavy cruisers but only one of the light cruisers and four of the HuKs. A second group, with two heavy cruisers including C-990 which Kolani herself was riding as well as three of the light cruisers and four more of the HuKs, orbited ten light-minutes farther out from the star. The last group, consisting of only one heavy cruiser, one light cruiser, and the remaining four HuKs, was parked near the main mobile forces facility, a massive space station that orbited a gas-giant planet one light-hour out from the star. At the closest point of approach in their orbits, that would put the gas giant roughly fifty light-minutes distant from the habitable world where Iceni was. With the gas giant actually well behind the habitable world in its orbit, at almost its maximum distance away, the gas giant was almost one and a half light-hours from where Iceni’s force was. By the time that last, small group could reach them, Iceni and Kolani might well have already decided the issue of who would be in command of the flotilla.

“Data feeds from all other mobile forces in this star system show readiness state three,” Akiri said. “Regular cruising readiness, no preparations for battle.” He paused. “Of course, they could be falsifying their data feeds to us just as we’re presently falsifying our own readiness state to them.”

Iceni gave him a hard smile. “That’s worth considering. Did you report my presence aboard this unit in your data feed to the other units?”

“Yes, Madam CEO.”

All of the units that were accepting her authority should be reporting in to her, then, as soon as they had taken care of the snakes they had aboard. Her eyes rested on the display again. If the unit commanders who had already pledged to support her carried through on their commitments then half of the heavy cruisers were hers, and two of the light cruisers, as well as five of the Hunter-Killers. Unfortunately, one of those light cruisers and one of the HuKs were a light-hour and a half distant.

Akiri was watching his own display with a morose expression. “C-818 will follow CEO Kolani. She’s still using C-990 as her flagship, and I believe that unit’s commander is also loyal to Kolani.”

“That was expected,” Iceni replied. “Kolani kept the two cruisers she was surest of with her.”

“C-555 and C-413,” Akiri began, naming the other two heavy cruisers in this group.

“Are loyal to me.” Iceni raised one finger slightly toward her display. “But C-625, out there by the gas giant. That’s a question.”

“I… cannot make an estimate,” Akiri said.

“Neither could I. I expect that C-625’s commanding officer will make every effort to avoid committing to either me or CEO Kolani until she sees which one of us wins. The light cruiser with C-625 would support me if it were alone, but if surrounded by mobile forces that stay loyal to CEO Kolani that light cruiser’s status is also problematic. Two of the HuKs in the group at the gas giant are newly arrived in this star system, so I have no idea what they might do.”

Marphissa nodded. “I haven’t even spoken to anyone on those HuKs. They’ve reported in to CEO Kolani, but we haven’t worked with them at all.”

“But, Madam CEO,” Akiri said hesitantly, “why if you doubted the actions those mobile forces would take did you let them be so far from where you could influence them? I ask so I can learn,” he added quickly.

Iceni didn’t answer him directly. “Did you review the reports we received of the fighting at Prime, Sub-CEO Akiri?”

Akiri hesitated again, clearly trying to recall the information, then Marphissa answered from her own place on the bridge. “When the new council declared itself, some of the mobile forces there tried to join with them, but because all of the units were close together, the loyalists to the old council destroyed every one of them.”

Sub-CEO Akiri nodded, with an annoyed glance at Executive Marphissa. “Yes.”

“Then you understand why I didn’t want everything within range of CEO Kolani and the mobile forces loyal to her,” Iceni said. “I want to make sure that if we fight, I have some chance to decide when and where.”

A comm window opened before Iceni, showing the commanding officer of heavy cruiser C-555. “We await your orders, CEO Iceni. All ISS personnel aboard my unit have been neutralized.”

“Something is being ejected from C-413,” one of the line workers on the bridge reported.

C-413’s commanding officer called in moments later, looking oddly serene. “We have just disposed of the last snake, CEO Iceni.”

“Out of an air lock?” Iceni asked.

“That particular ISS agent delighted in undermining my authority with my crew, CEO Iceni.”

“I see. In the future, avoid theatrics in carrying out your instructions.” For all her sympathy with C-413’s commanding officer, Iceni didn’t want the crews of any of these ships getting used to tossing authority figures out of air locks. If that ever became a habit, it might be entirely too hard to break.

The light cruiser and the four HuKs with Iceni’s group also reported in, pledging their allegiance. With the warships around her accounted for, Iceni called the doubtless wavering C-625. “The majority of the mobile forces in the flotilla have already sworn to obey my orders. You would be advised to follow their example as quickly as possible.” She would have to wait almost three hours for an answer even if C-625 replied as soon as it heard from her. “What’s happening on the surface?” she asked Akiri.

Akiri frowned toward the current operations line worker, who seemed slightly stunned by events as he recited a report in a steady but bewildered voice. “Major fighting can be seen at the main ISS headquarters and the three ISS subcomplexes. Communications from the surface indicate that all ISS substations are also being attacked. We received a fragmentary message from ISS CEO Hardrad, but it was cut off before any orders or information could be received.”

“Good. The ground forces are taking care of the snakes on the surface,” Iceni announced for the benefit of everyone within earshot. “CEO Drakon is doing his part.” It made Drakon sound like a junior partner of hers, but cultivating that impression in the mobile forces might be useful. She paused, blew out a steadying breath, then called Kolani. “CEO Kolani, this is CEO Iceni. I have assumed direct command of all mobile forces within this star system. You are to acknowledge my authority and pledge personal loyalty to me. I await your immediate reply.”

Another message, this one directly to every other ship in Kolani’s group. “I have assumed direct command of all mobile forces within this star system. You are to acknowledge my authority and pledge personal loyalty to me. I expect your immediate reply.”

The earliest she would hear a response from Kolani or any of the ships with her was twenty minutes. “Let me know the instant any of the mobile forces with Kolani begin to alter their movement,” she ordered Akiri.

Akiri shook his head. “All of the light cruisers and HuKs with Kolani are under the guns of those two heavy cruisers. They won’t be able to bolt without fighting their way out.”

“Correct,” Iceni agreed, her tone implying that she had already taken that into account.

“But if any of them turn on Kolani,” Executive Marphissa pointed out, “their weapons will be within easy range of those heavy cruisers. A sudden, surprise volley could inflict crippling damage.”

Iceni smiled. “Yes.”

“But won’t Kolani be watching for that?” Akiri asked.

Having subordinates who identified problems instead of ignoring them (or worse, being oblivious to them) usually pleased Iceni. But subordinates who raised every possible difficulty without identifying positive aspects or solutions were another matter. This time Iceni raised an eyebrow at Akiri. She could do that in a way that inspired real fear in those junior to her, and now Akiri paled slightly. “Yes,” Iceni repeated. “She will have to watch the mobile forces with her and worry about fighting us at the same time.”

“I see,” Akiri agreed hastily, then busied himself working with his display.

From the corner of her eye, Iceni could see a well-concealed but still-apparent look of disdain on Marphissa. None of the line workers on the bridge betrayed any signs of noticing what had happened, however, which implied that this sort of scene had played out before, most likely when CEO Kolani browbeat Akiri. When Iceni had heard that Kolani had more than once publicly raked Akiri over the coals, she had known that would make Akiri easy to recruit. But Iceni also found herself sympathetic to why Kolani would have chewed out Akiri and wondering why Kolani hadn’t already replaced him. Kolani wasn’t known for a high degree of tolerance for workers who didn’t do their jobs to her standards. And there wasn’t anything in Akiri’s personal record that should have inhibited Kolani from sacking him. There was an inconsistency in her treatment of Akiri, a problem that Iceni bookmarked in her brain to come back to and investigate when time permitted.

At the moment, though, she had to endure a forced period of waiting while still staying alert and focused. Waiting until replies came from Kolani and the other mobile forces ten light-minutes distant. Waiting until she knew how well Drakon’s attacks had succeeded. Or failed. Iceni found her eyes resting on the portion of her display showing the surface of the planet below this cruiser. ISS facilities were highlighted because of the fighting at those locations. If she received information that one or more of Drakon’s attacks had failed, it wouldn’t be hard at all to designate one or more of those facilities as a bombardment target. Point, assign, launch. Simple. And part of a city, and everyone living in that area, would be destroyed.

I launched bombardments at Alliance worlds. That wasn’t hard. I didn’t think about the citizens under those aiming points. Are people in the Alliance called citizens? Why don’t I know the answer to that? I killed them, and I don’t even know what they called themselves.

Of course, that made it easier to kill them.

I never had to participate in an internal stability operation, dropping a bombardment on one of our own worlds to quell rebellion or riot. I was lucky. But here I am potentially facing the same decision.

Was Black Jack really sent by the living stars to stop us? He also stopped the Alliance from bombarding civilians. Was he meant to? My father told me of the stars that watch over us all, but it has been so long, and I’m no longer sure how much of that I accept. I’ve seen that the men and women who gained the most power in the Syndicate Worlds were the ones who would stop at nothing. Why weren’t they stopped? I’ve seen the aftermath of Alliance bombardments of our worlds. I didn’t see many signs there of something caring about the helpless or the weak. You had to stay strong, or you got hurt. Why would something that cared about us wait so long to do anything?

But we did lose, and the Alliance won. And right now, the meanest, most unforgiving part of the Syndicate Worlds, the snakes of the ISS, are dying inside their own fortresses.

Her eyes were locked on one of the ISS symbols, one of the spots where she could order a bombardment to fall. All right, living stars. My father said you were supposed to guide us as to right or wrong. You told Black Jack what to do? Tell me. Should I ensure that nest of snakes is cleaned out even if it costs the city and citizens around it? Or should I avoid doing the most practical and easiest thing because it would hurt those citizens that I’m responsible for even though those citizens can always be replaced?

Go ahead. If really you’re out there somewhere, tell me.

“Madam CEO,” the operations line worker reported. “The mobile forces with CEO Kolani have been seen to alter vector. They appear to be coming around to close on our position.”

Executive Marphissa nodded. “Based on the timing, they reacted when they saw the attacks against the ISS on the surface.”

Iceni’s own answering nod was sharp. Why hadn’t she heard from Drakon on how things were going? She couldn’t—

It took her a moment to realize what she was seeing. The symbol for the ISS facility that Iceni had been watching had altered in the last few seconds. Instead of beaconing an ISS identification, it now glowed with an indicator saying that it belonged to the ground forces.

Other ISS facilities were changing as she watched, changing from poisonous yellow to bold green. “Try to get comms to CEO Drakon,” she ordered. “He—”

At that point, Iceni abruptly remembered her last thoughts before the line worker had interrupted them. She stared at those symbols for a second, then two. Was I answered? It’s probably just coincidence. Surely just…

“Madam CEO?” Marphissa asked.

“Drakon should be at the main ISS headquarters. Try to get in touch with him there,” Iceni ordered, putting extra snap in her command to cover up her momentary loss of self-possession.

Two minutes passed, while Iceni’s glower deepened and Akiri began looking desperate again, himself glaring at the comm line worker.

Fortunately for the line worker, another message came in.

CEO Kolani hadn’t looked so unhappy since the Alliance fleet had last waltzed unhindered through this star system. She stared at Iceni so viciously that it was as if she were actually seeing Iceni before her. It took Iceni a moment to recall that this message had been sent ten minutes ago. “Former CEO Iceni, you are hereby relieved of all authority and ordered to surrender yourself to loyal representatives of the Syndicate Worlds. I am assuming full authority in this star system until the unlawful actions of the ground forces have been halted and their leaders, including former CEO Drakon, have been dealt with.”

“She sent this five minutes after the ISS facilities on the surface were attacked?” Iceni asked.

“Yes, Madam CEO.”

For some reason that made Iceni want to laugh, so she did. “CEO Kolani didn’t even give me a chance to rebel before she tried to take over.” But then Kolani had been talking to Hardrad about that delayed order and implicating Iceni in that matter, if Hardrad could be trusted on that count. Hardrad can’t be trusted on any count, but in this case telling me the truth about Kolani’s suspicions would have served his purposes, and I already knew how Kolani feels about me.

She looked at Akiri. “Tell the mobile forces with us to bring themselves to full combat alert, and make sure their true readiness status is sent onward to Kolani’s group.”

An alarm sounded, followed by a rippling of Iceni’s display before the virtual images solidified again. “What happened?”

“A virus,” Marphissa reported. “Delivered in the net connecting us to the rest of the flotilla. It tried to activate the worms planted by the snakes, but we’d already purged them.”

Damn. “Can we put filters between us and the mobile forces loyal to Kolani?”

“That’s what stopped the virus, Madam CEO. I can’t guarantee that the filters will stop the next one.”

Double damn. “Break the net connections to Kolani’s warships.”

“War—?” Marphissa started to ask, then caught herself. “Yes, Madam CEO. What about the… warships at the main facility? Anything they tried to send would take an hour and a half to get here, and anything CEO Kolani tried to relay through them would take more than three hours.”

“Keep them in the link for now.” Iceni gave her display an irate look. Instead of getting accurate updates from those other warships, she would now have to depend on the sensors on the cruisers to know what was really happening.

Accurate updates? “They were already falsifying their data feeds to us, weren’t they?” Iceni asked.

The operations line worker nodded. “The movements we’re seeing don’t match what their updates were telling us. It was…” His voice trailed off.

“Say it.” Iceni’s own voice wasn’t loud, but it carried very well to the line worker and everyone else on the bridge.

“Yes, Madam CEO. It was clumsy.” Now that he had voiced a criticism of superiors, even though they were on other units, the line worker seemed defiantly eager to keep talking. “They could have matched their false feeds to their actual maneuvers, knowing that we would see any discrepancy; instead, they just kept sending us data saying nothing had changed.”

Iceni watched the line worker, who had flushed as he returned her gaze with worried eyes. She wondered if any line workers on Kolani’s units had realized the need to tailor the false data feeds but hesitated to appear to question or contradict superiors. “That’s a good assessment,” she finally said, drawing a hastily concealed look of disbelief from the line worker. “We need to think of things like that before we give away any information to CEO Kolani. What is your rating?”

“Senior line worker class two, Madam CEO.”

“You’re now a senior line worker class one. Keep thinking, and tell me what I need to know.” Iceni turned back to face Akiri. “Make that promotion happen. I am pleased to see that your crew is well trained and knowledgeable.”

Akiri, who had been on the verge of scowling, perked up and bestowed an approving look on the line worker.

“I… I have a connection with CEO Drakon,” the comm line worker cried with relief.

The window that opened before Iceni showed Drakon in combat armor, smoking wreckage in the background. It took her a moment to realize that the wreckage had once been the ISS command center. She had toured that facility once, but only once, feeling half a prisoner already until safely outside the ISS headquarters again.

Drakon’s eyes seemed to hold more weariness than triumph, but he waved around in a casual gesture. “We’ve got it. There are individual snakes still running loose, but the heads are all dead, and we’ll catch the rest pretty quick.”

“Where’s Hardrad?”

“That’s sort of a metaphysical question now.”

Iceni had to pause to realize what that meant. “I didn’t know you had such a dark sense of humor, CEO Drakon.”

“It’s now General Drakon. Like you said, we need to cast off Syndicate ways of doing things.”

“I see.” A unilateral decision on Drakon’s part. Not a decision she could protest, but still a worrisome move. “Make sure you examine whatever remains of Hardrad carefully before disposing of it. There may be tiny data-storage devices hidden within him.”

“There were,” Drakon said. “But they were all dead-manned to his metabolism. When he died, they autowiped.”

“Pity. Since I now know that you have the planetary surface under control, I must focus on my own task. There’s a battle to fight up here.”

“Maybe Kolani will rethink that once she learns the snakes on the planet have been wiped out.”

“I’ll make sure that she knows,” Iceni said. “I will contact you again once the battle is over.”

But Drakon shook his head. “What’s to keep Kolani from dropping rocks on us during your fight?”

“She’ll want an intact planet to offer to her masters,” Iceni replied. “Restoring a battered ruin to their control will not impress them. If she did that, she would be blamed for the losses far more than she’d get credit for any success. I am certain of that.”

“I’m glad that you’re certain of it,” Drakon replied, “seeing as how you don’t have to worry about any of those rocks hitting you on the head. Have a nice battle.”

“Thank you.” The window closed, and Iceni gazed morosely at the place where Drakon’s image had been. Working with him was going to be challenging, but positioning herself to eliminate him would be a very long-term project.

Assuming that she wanted to eliminate him. She had noticed that CEOs who concentrated on getting rid of anyone who could be competition ended up getting rid of those who could do their jobs well, and that always produced long-term disaster.

Iceni’s eyes moved slightly to her display, where the representations of Kolani’s forces were steadying out on a direct intercept with the path of the units with Iceni. “She’s coming straight at us.”

Akiri nodded morosely. “CEO Kolani will focus her fire on this cruiser. She will want to kill you, thinking that will cause the other units to surrender.”

“Just as I need to kill her, so I won’t have to destroy all of the units following her.” Iceni scowled at the display, where automated calculations were summing up projections for an engagement. She had three heavy cruisers to Kolani’s two, but Kolani had more smaller warships. In a straight head-to-head exchange of blows, the firepower ratios would be very nearly equal. Victory or defeat would rest on chance, on how many hits went home on the primary targets, on where those hits struck, on which vital systems got knocked out.

She hated depending on chance. “How can we knock out the heavy cruiser carrying CEO Kolani without facing an equal chance of losing this one?” she asked Akiri and Marphissa.

Both looked back at her with puzzled expressions. “We go in hard and fast,” Marphissa finally said. “A clean, straight-on firing run. That will give us the best chance.”

“Black Jack never uses clean, straight-on firing runs,” Iceni said.

Akiri spoke cautiously. “The actions of Geary and the results of his engagements with Syndicate Worlds forces have been classified. We have not seen any official reports on those matters.”

Of course not. Stupid, mindless Syndicate Worlds security classification, keeping essential information from its own personnel rather than from the enemy. “To put it bluntly, Black Jack repeatedly inflicted horrendous losses on Syndicate Worlds flotillas, while suffering much smaller losses in exchange. He used tactics that we’re still trying to analyze but which seemed to me to vary by situation.”

“The rumors were true?” Marphissa asked, appalled.

“Yes. The mobile forces of the Syndicate Worlds have been decimated. There’s very little left. You’ve seen what the Alliance still has.”

“Can you also—?”

“No.” I’m not Black Jack. I’ve studied what we know about those engagements, and I still don’t understand why he did things the way he did, how he timed his movements, how…

Can I pretend to be Black Jack? What would he do? Not slam straight into the opposing force with the odds so even. He would… change the odds. “But I do have an idea.” She called up a maneuvering recommendation for intercepting Kolani’s force, a simple maneuver since Kolani was coming right at them, aiming to intercept the spot where they would be if Iceni’s force remained in orbit about this planet as it continued along its own track around the star. “All units, accelerate to point one light speed, alter course to port three two degrees at time one four.”

“CEO Kolani’s force has also steadied out at point one light speed,” Marphissa said. “Forty-seven minutes to contact if she adjusts vectors when she sees our own maneuver.”

“We are to concentrate fire on Cruiser 990?” Akiri asked, his hands already moving to set that priority in the targeting systems.

“You will await my command on targeting priority.” Everyone was eyeing her with surprise. “I will enter targeting priority at the last moment to ensure that there is no way the information can somehow be provided to CEO Kolani’s force.” The extra strength in her voice this time made it clear that no one was to question her decision, and they all obediently turned back to their tasks. CEOs were arbitrary, they were doubtless telling themselves, and CEOs loved to micromanage. Let her enter the order herself when she wants if that is her desire. Oh, but it’s not that simple. I may not be Black Jack, but I can try something unexpected.

Forty-seven minutes. Forty-six, now. She had done this before, the long lead-in to a fight, charging an opponent who could be seen many minutes, or hours, or even days before you could actually exchange fire. Iceni had always thought that it felt like one of those falling dreams, the drop prolonged beyond all reason, watching death come closer and closer. But unlike those dreams, which ended before the impact, battles always brought the crash of contact.

How can I do what Black Jack has done? I don’t know enough. All I can do is a crude approximation. But that may be all I need against Kolani, who will be expecting me to follow doctrine since my experience is limited and not recent.

“CEO Iceni,” Akiri said, breaking into her thoughts. His own worries were clear enough to see. “I’ve fought in engagements like this. Fairly evenly matched. There’s not much left when the fighting ends.”

Iceni nodded. “Are you advising some other course of action, Sub-CEO Akiri?”

Akiri hesitated before speaking. “Let them go. Instead of trying to defeat them, just let them head to Prime.”

“And come back with reinforcements?” Marphissa asked.

“We have been told that there aren’t any reinforcements!” Akiri insisted, flushing with anger. “CEO Iceni told us there is nothing left!”

Iceni raised one finger, which was sufficient to halt the debate. Executives who didn’t learn to watch for and obey the smallest gestures from CEOs didn’t last very long. “I understand your concerns, Sub-CEO Akiri. However, we will not have an option on whether or not to fight. CEO Kolani must fight and win. I am certain that she will not flee for Prime to seek assistance because that would be an admission of failure on her part. She would be reporting the loss of this star system despite her own presence here, and the loss of more than half her own flotilla. I doubt that the new government of the Syndicate Worlds is much more merciful than the one it replaced when it comes to CEOs who fail. No. CEO Kolani will not simply leave this star system even if we promise her a free path. She will fight to reestablish Syndicate control here, or die trying, because she will see that as preferable to her likely fate if she fails.”

“Would there be any reinforcements at Prime?” Marphissa asked. “That might change her calculations.”

“Your commander is essentially correct,” Iceni said, giving Akiri acknowledgment of a small victory in the debate. “There might be more mobile units there, but probably very few that can be spared on short notice. Our knowledge of what mobile forces remain in the hands of the central government is very limited. They have some new construction, surely, but how much we don’t know. And they need to keep much of what they do have on hand, able to react and serve as a threat against the star systems near to Prime that they still control.”

Akiri was watching her. “The Reserve Flotilla? Do we know… ?”

“Those rumors are true as well.” Iceni said it bluntly, knowing how those around her would take the confirmation of their worst fears. “The Reserve Flotilla encountered Black Jack. It’s gone. It won’t be coming back here.”

Seeing how Akiri’s face fell, Iceni wondered how many close friends he’d once had in that flotilla. He was far from being alone in that.

“Another message from CEO Kolani,” the comm line worker announced.

“Let me see it.” A window popped open before Iceni, revealing a Kolani whose earlier anger had morphed into cold contempt.

“You will surrender, or you will die. Any fools following your commands will die with you. They should know that you have no talent for command of mobile forces and that your thin experience was long ago. For the sake of the safety of the citizens of the Syndicate Worlds, I am willing to guarantee your life if you transmit your surrender prior to firing upon any mobile unit. Those who followed you, doubtless out of mistaken belief in your authority to command such actions, will not be punished. You have fifteen minutes to reply. For the people, Kolani, out.”

Iceni leaned back and glanced at Akiri. “I suppose every supervisor and line worker in these mobile units is already aware of Kolani’s offer even though this was sent directly to me?”

Akiri and Marphissa exchanged looks, then Marphissa shrugged. “That is certainly correct, Madam CEO. The offer was plainly intended for their ears.”

“Then it’s past time I sent a message. Set up a broadcast.” Iceni waited impatiently for the few seconds required before the line worker responsible gave a thumbs-up. “Citizens of the Midway Star System, those on the planet nearest to mobile forces loyal to me, those elsewhere, those on my mobile forces or in the ground forces of… General Drakon, this is CEO Iceni.”

For a few months, she had been practicing for this, going over the wording countless times in her head because she dared not create any written record of it in any device or even using archaic pen and paper. Such a document would have ensured her quick death had it been found by the ISS, and Iceni hadn’t survived as long as she had by underestimating the snakes.

“You have lived long enough under the control of the government on Prime. The Syndicate Worlds has asked much from us and given little in return. The one thing they offered was security, and the Syndicate Worlds failed in that. The Syndicate Worlds government took the flotilla that long guarded us and left us defenseless when we were threatened by the alien race that lives beyond the frontier. Yes, I now officially confirm the existence of a species about which we know little except that they have posed a threat to us. We must be able to defend ourselves, and yet now the new and illegitimate government on Prime seeks to take the small flotilla of mobile forces I have managed to accumulate for the defense of this star system.

“The Syndicate Worlds government has long boasted of its superiority. Only it could keep us safe, that government claimed. Yet it lost the war with the Alliance. The Alliance fleet came here, flaunting the failure of the Syndicate system.

“I will be candid with you. Fear has kept us loyal to Prime. Fear of the Alliance and fear of the ISS. The snakes.” She paused for a moment, knowing how shocking it would be for citizens to hear a CEO openly using that term of contempt for the ISS. “But the snakes in Midway Star System are dead, except upon those mobile forces still following the command of CEO Kolani. The Syndicate Worlds is crumbling. The authority of the central government is falling apart, and many star systems have descended into chaos and civil war. I will prevent that from happening here. I have negotiated an understanding with the Alliance, with Black Jack Geary personally, to recognize and support the actions I am now taking.”

She wondered how Black Jack would feel about that interpretation of their agreement. He obviously hadn’t been enthusiastic about the limited commitment he had really made, to defend this star system against the alien enigma race, and that agreement had been reached only because Iceni had possessed something that Black Jack wanted. Hopefully, he wouldn’t reappear in this star system soon enough to pick up her transmission, but even if he did Black Jack had agreed not to publicly deny that his protection of the Midway Star System, and of Iceni herself, extended beyond threats from the enigmas.

“I will soon engage and defeat CEO Kolani,” Iceni continued, “with mobile forces that have pledged loyalty to me and to the newly independent star system of Midway. CEO Kolani and the snakes on her mobile units will not be allowed to threaten the citizens of this star system. We will chart our own course from this time forth, a course that will keep us safe and prosperous, without the terror of the ISS to always threaten us. For the people! Iceni, out.”

Finished, Iceni waited, both elbows resting on the arms of her chair, her hands clasped under her chin. She felt slightly drained, as if she had just engaged in some strenuous physical act. Any response from the mobile forces with Kolani would take a while to be heard, then she would—

It had taken her a few moments to recognize the sound she heard growing as it vibrated through the hull of the cruiser. Iceni had been present at countless official celebrations and ceremonies, had heard many groups of citizens obediently chanting slogans or shouts, but this was different, a wild cheering and jubilation that both thrilled and alarmed. Some of the line workers on the bridge embraced or exchanged hand slaps. One middle-aged subexecutive stood quietly, tears streaming down his face.

Sub-CEO Akiri sat, his shoulders slightly hunched as if prepared to defend himself from a mob, a sentiment that Iceni could understand at the moment. But Executive Marphissa smiled wolfishly as the sounds of celebration went on and on.

The noise was one word being chanted over and over. “Iceni! Iceni!” Her name, being voluntarily shouted by citizens. She felt more disoriented than ever at the idea of being acclaimed by those she ruled. What have I done? There’s more going on here than just a change in the titles of the masters of this star system.

Under some stern looks from Akiri and Marphissa the workers on the bridge dampened their celebrations, returning to their tasks, though Iceni noticed that the atmosphere felt different. The sullenness that seemed to always underlie worker attitudes couldn’t be sensed at the moment.

“Twenty minutes until contact,” the maneuvering line worker announced, sounding now like he anticipated that moment.

Iceni looked at her display, smiling sardonically. In twenty minutes, she would have her first extremely public chance to screw up. If her idea failed, if Kolani badly hurt the ships following Iceni, then all the star system would see it. All of her life Iceni had been taught to avoid showing any sign of weakness. Her fellow humans, she had been told, would strike the moment they sensed any vulnerability, any ineptitude.

In twenty minutes, she just might learn how true that was. At least Drakon wasn’t facing any more problems at the moment.

“We’ve got a problem,” Colonel Rogero said.

Drakon’s eyes went to the virtual window next to Rogero, where a video feed displayed a very large crowd gathering in a central park. The noise from the crowd boomed even across the volume-modulated circuit. “The citizens are celebrating.”

“Celebrating I don’t mind,” Rogero said. “But this looks ugly. That crowd is exploding in size like a sun going nova, and the chatter we’re picking up is spinning out of control. My instincts tell me that celebration is going to turn into explosion.”

“A mob attack on us?”

“No. There’s no direction. We’ve got a thousand ‘leaders’ who our software has identified in personal comms so far. It’s chaotic. Lots of emotion. Feelings that all traditional controls and restraints are gone. I think you can do the math on where that’s going to lead.”

Drakon nodded. “Rioting. Looting. Breakdown of order. Where are the police?”

“Forted up inside their stations. They seem to be equally afraid of the mob and of our soldiers.”

That was at least understandable on both counts. “City administrators?”

“The same,” Rogero said scornfully. “Only much more useless than the police.” Technically, officials like mayors and council members had been elected to their posts by popular vote, but those votes had been completely rigged for longer than either Rogero or Drakon had been alive, so the winners tended to be less than popular in fact.

After another searching look at the gathering crowd, Drakon nodded again. “I expect you have the same thing happening elsewhere in the region you control?”

“Everywhere crowds can gather. Even some of the ground forces soldiers started to head out to join the crowds before I locked down the barracks. What are my orders?”

Malin had been listening, and now spoke urgently. “You have to deal with this in a way that makes you seem to be on the side of the crowds. Control the mob by becoming their leader.”

Morgan’s snort of derision almost rivaled the roar of the crowd in volume. “He is their leader. We just have to remind them who’s in charge by using enough firepower to end this. Orders to disperse immediately, followed by a few violent examples of what happens to those who don’t follow orders, will shut this down.”

“We don’t have enough firepower to kill every citizen on this planet!” Malin snapped at her.

“We don’t have to kill all of them, just enough to make an example of those who don’t follow orders from us, their leaders.”

Drakon listened to them bicker for a moment, thinking through options, aware that Rogero was still waiting silently for instructions. All of their planning had been focused on getting rid of the snakes without having the planet devastated. He had guessed that there might be some problems with crowds, but this looked far worse than those guesses had suggested. As if keyed by that thought, Colonel Gaiene called in just then, at his back a video of the same kind of growing mob that Rogero was facing. Seconds later, Colonel Kai’s image appeared, accompanied by similar pictures.

“The situation is rapidly deteriorating,” Kai reported.