The Lost Stars (14 page)

“I see.” Iceni nodded judiciously. “I hadn't thought of that. Yes, until the citizens are evaluated, we can't just turn them loose. That will more than justify limiting access to them and keeping them secure. The fact that it's a valid reason will help keep anyone from questioning our motives.”

“Do we have other motives with them?” Drakon asked.

She had to pause and think. “If they truly don't know anything? Probably not. I think your ideas for the released citizens are very good ones. We can keep the ones from Taroa up there, too, until we hear back from the Free Taroans.” Iceni smiled wryly. “Though it may take a very long while for the still-interim government of Free Taroa to make a decision on the matter as they debate and argue and discuss.”

“Hopefully, the Taroan citizens won't have died of old age while waiting,” Drakon agreed. “We're already paying out enough bribes and applying other pressure to get the defense agreement approved before anyone at Taroa realizes how tightly they'll be tied to us by that agreement. We can't afford to invest effort right now into getting the Taroans to take the prisoners, too. Now, the other deal. You know about this Alliance officer, Bradamont.”

“I know,” Iceni said, careful once more to choose her words, “that she is linked to Colonel Rogero. And I know that we just used that link to pass our own version of events to Black Jack. I also know the snake records we captured contained a file on this Bradamont that identified her as a source code-named Mantis. Do you know the full story behind that?”

“I guess it's my day to talk about my staff.” Drakon looked away, one hand to his mouth as he thought. “The short version is this. Several years back, Colonel Rogero and a small group of soldiers returning from visits home were drafted to serve as guards on a modified freighter hauling Alliance prisoners of war to a labor camp. On the way there, the freighter suffered a serious accident. Rogero let the Alliance prisoners out of confinement to save their lives, then let them assist in repairing the damage to the freighter to save everyone's lives.”

Iceni shook her head. “The wise thing, the right thing, but also the contrary-to-regulations thing.”

“Right. When they reached safety, Rogero was arrested. The CEO involved decided that since Rogero cared so much for the Alliance prisoners, he could spend more time with them by being assigned to the typically hellhole labor camp where they were confined. While serving there . . .” Drakon spread his hands. “Rogero and Bradamont fell in love.”

“Rather odd circumstances for that,” Iceni observed.

“Yes, but you see, they knew each other. Rogero told me Bradamont led the Alliance prisoners during the accident and while fixing the damage. She impressed the hell out of him. And she had seen Rogero risk his neck to save the Alliance prisoners.”

Iceni nodded, finally understanding. “They knew some very important things about each other.”

“While that was going on, I had been trying to find out why Rogero hadn't made it back from leave. I had just tracked him to the labor camp when the snakes there found out about him and Bradamont. I was told that the only question regarding Rogero's future was whether he would join the inhabitants at another labor camp or just be executed.”

“What saved
him?”

“I saved him,” Drakon said, matter-of-factly and without any hint of boasting. “I suggested to the snakes that they could use Bradamont's affection for Rogero. Use that to turn this Bradamont so she'd report on Alliance stuff from the inside.” Drakon grinned. “The snakes loved the idea. Of course, implementing it meant getting Bradamont back in the Alliance fleet, so the snakes arranged for her to be transported near the border with the Alliance and leaked the information. Her transport got intercepted, she got liberated by Alliance Marines and sent back to the Alliance fleet. Meanwhile, Rogero got sent back to me. I was told that was so he could pretend to send good intelligence to the Alliance in exchange for whatever Bradamont sent him, just as I'd proposed. But Rogero told me flat out that the snakes wanted him to spy on me,
too.”

“Naturally. But, by knowing who their spy was, you could better protect yourself from the snakes.” Iceni rested her forehead on one palm. “The relationship is real? It seemed so from that message from Rogero that we passed to Black Jack.”

“It's real.”

“Did she really spy on the Alliance for
us?”

“I seriously doubt it. What the snakes had Rogero send her was stuff the Alliance already knew, along with false information to mislead the Alliance. From what Rogero could tell, the stuff he got from her was the same sort of junk.”

Iceni glanced at Drakon. “Do you think Alliance intelligence was using her the same way the snakes were using Rogero?”

“I'm certain of
it.”

“So she has been an agent of Alliance intelligence for some years already.”

“Why else would they want to assign her here?” Drakon pointed out. “But she's also been, as Black Jack said, commanding officer of an Alliance battle cruiser.”

“During Black Jack's campaign against the Syndicate Worlds,” Iceni added thoughtfully. “What that woman must know about his way of fighting.” She sat up straighter. “Black Jack said she would render advice and assistance. Including on defense matters. That knowledge could be invaluable to us. Oh, he is devious. Military advice to us, offered in a form that looks completely innocuous.”

“You want to accept her, then?”

“We can't afford to turn her down! And if Colonel Rogero can really vouch for her . . .” Iceni chewed her lower lip as she thought. “It will be touchy. Very touchy. She's the enemy. Not officially, not anymore, but we've spent our lives seeing the uniform she wears as that of the enemy. An enemy who killed untold numbers of our citizens.”

“We started it,” Drakon said dryly.

“And you know how little that matters to the average worker.” Iceni shook her head. “We'll have to figure out how to handle it. Formal recognition of our status as an independent star system by the Alliance, and an officer who both represents Black Jack and can advise on his tactics. We
cannot
turn this down.”

Drakon nodded. “You're right, but you're also right about how hard it will be to get anyone to work with her. Do you want to confine her to the orbital facility for a while?”

“No. I want her free to go where she wants to go and do what she wants to do.” Iceni smiled. “That way we'll learn where she wants to go and what she wants to
do.”

“Fair enough. We know she'll be telling Black Jack what's happening here.”

“As long as she doesn't try to set up an Alliance spy ring, I can accept that.”

Drakon played with the controls for a moment, and Iceni once again saw Geary speaking part of his message. “. . . in your transition to a freer form of government . .
.”

“That might be a problem,” Iceni conceded. “If he really expects us to keep offering the citizens more freedom and say in the government. We do have some measures under way already, such as the elections for low-level officials, that should gladden the heart of the Alliance.”

“I have been getting advice that we should continue that process as far as we can safely take it,” Drakon said. “For the sake of long-term stability and ensuring citizen buy-in to our government.”

Where have I heard that before? That assistant of Drakon's. Colonel Malin. He must still be pushing the idea.
“As long as the emphasis remains on
as far as we can safely take it
, I don't object to that concept in theory,” Iceni said. “In any event, that's a long-term problem. We have one other short-term problem. What about your Colonel Rogero?”

Drakon brooded over the question for several seconds. “I want to leave it up to Colonel Rogero. I'll back whatever decision he makes.”

As I could have guessed before I asked the question.
“That could hurt him,” Iceni said. “If the citizens learn that she is not only an Alliance officer but also served as a source for the snakes . .
.”

“Rogero was technically a source, too. He misled the snakes at every turn, but their files list him as a source. Let's try to keep that quiet in both their cases.”

“Let's.” Iceni sat looking at Drakon. “Does anyone else know about Rogero and Bradamont? About Rogero's ties to the snakes?”

Drakon nodded heavily. “One person.”

Something about the way he said it brought a lump of anxiety to life in her guts.
One person.
“Not
her.”

“Yeah. Colonel Morgan.”

“Why
in the hell
did you tell—”

“I didn't tell her!” Drakon glared at Iceni. “She found out while checking for hidden snake agents after the mess with Colonel Dun. I told you she was good.”

“Oh . . .
wonderful
!” Iceni tried to damp down her aggravation. “Can we keep her alive?”

“Morgan?”

“Bradamont!”

“Oh.” Drakon's expression shaded to grim determination. “Yes. You don't have to worry about that.”

“Pardon me, but I will be worrying about that!” Iceni sighed and managed to regain control. “If you tell me that Bradamont will be safe from . . . threats, then I will tell Black Jack that we will accept her and the citizens freed from the enigmas.”

Drakon nodded and leaned forward to emphasize his words. “Ask if Bradamont will bring some intel about what Black Jack's fleet did in enigma space, and wherever they found the six mystery ships and that mammoth battleship. We haven't been told anything about those yet. If Black Jack really wants to formalize things, his representative should be willing to share some of that information. We're closer to the enigmas than any other star system. We need to know what he found out and what he found.”

“Yes. Absolutely,” Iceni agreed. “I will phrase it diplomatically, but I will make it clear that we hope for such information and regard it as of critical importance to the security of this star system.” Another thought hit her then, causing Iceni to give Drakon a keen glance. “Bradamont's code name was Mantis. Why did the snakes call her that?”

He shrugged. “I have no idea. Snakes aren't in the habit of explaining things. Why does it matter? A mantis is an insect, right? Some sort of bug? The code name was probably intended as a put-down of Bradamont.”

“I don't think so,” Iceni said. “A mantis isn't just any insect. It's a very deadly insect. A predator. And a species in which the female mantises devour the males.”

Drakon stared at Iceni, then shook his head. “Well, an Alliance battle cruiser commander. They're tough, right? Maybe that's what it was about. Or maybe it was the snakes' idea of a joke.”

“Maybe. If she was working with Alliance intelligence, they would have given her their own code name. I wonder what Alliance intelligence called
her?”

Iceni sat for a while after Drakon had left, letting thoughts tumble through her mind. Many of the issues bedeviling her could not be resolved quickly or easily or perhaps at all.
Like Morgan. I can't send Togo after her. He could take her. He's so good he even frightens me. But any link between me and whoever killed Morgan would kill any hope of working with Drakon again. He's far too obsessed with that loyalty thing.

I need to contact Malin again. He refused to kill Morgan before. Maybe he'll agree now. Why wouldn't he want that woman dead? If he still won't get rid of her, I'll let him know that he had better keep her from doing anything against me or this Captain Bradamont. If Morgan does strike at me or her, Malin needs to know that I'll hold
him
responsible.

“KOMMODOR!
A new warship has arrived at the hypernet gate!”

Marphissa bolted awake. She had been only fitfully sleeping, worn down by the long stalemate. Day after day of the Syndicate flotilla and the Midway Flotilla glaring at each other across five light-minutes of space, the Alliance fleet orbiting nearly two light-hours away checkmating any offensive action by the Syndicate CEO. Boyens couldn't attack, but he wouldn't leave, and she didn't have enough firepower to force him to
go.

Despite her haste, Marphissa checked the passageway outside her door to ensure no one was waiting in ambush. Syndicate executives and CEOs got into those kinds of habits or fell prey to ambitious subordinates looking to clear a few openings for promotion. That was changing. But there were still snake agents rumored to be hidden among the military and citizens of the star system, so old habits would remain current practice.

The way looking clear and her sidearm ready, Marphissa yanked open her hatch and ran for the bridge.

Inside, a sense of excitement had replaced the boredom that had been wearing at everyone. “A new warship? What is it?” Marphissa demanded as she dropped into her command seat.

“Heavy cruiser, Kommodor,” the senior watch specialist announced. “Modified with extra cargo capacity and life support. They've seen the Syndicate flotilla and are running.”

“Running?” Marphissa looked carefully over the situation portrayed on her display before concentrating on the movement of the new heavy cruiser. “Do we have any ID
yet?”

“It should have shown up at the same time we saw the cruiser's arrival, Kommodor,” the watch specialist said. “We've seen nothing.”

She took another look at the new arrival, whose first action upon seeing the Syndicate flotilla had been to run. “Send him our ID. I'll also send him a personal message.”

Activity on the bridge paused for a moment as Kapitan Toirac arrived and hastily sat down in the seat next to Marphissa. “What's going
on?”

She spared him a glance, thinking that just about every CEO, sub-CEO, and executive she had ever worked for would have publicly raked Toirac over the coals for getting to the bridge after his superior. “Check your display,” she said, then turned to face the pickup for her own transmission. “To the unknown cruiser that just arrived at the hypernet gate, this is Kommodor Marphissa of the Midway Flotilla. We are a free and independent star system no longer answering to the authority of the Syndicate Worlds. If you wish to join with us, you will be welcome. If you are heading for another star system, close on our flotilla and we will defend you from the Syndicate flotilla in this star system and escort you to the jump exit of your choice. Our forces will assist in the defense of anyone seeking freedom from Syndicate tyranny. For the people, Marphissa,
out.”