Admiral Geary looked and sounded as formal as she had ever seen him. “President Iceni, General Drakon, I have two matters I need to place before you. First of all, President Iceni, I have to inform you that while in space controlled by the enigma race, we were able to locate and free some humans who had been kept prisoner by the enigmas, apparently for study. All of them, except those born in captivity, originated from Syndicate Worlds’ colonies or ships. All have been checked as thoroughly as possible, and no signs of biological or other contamination or threat has been found.
“It is important for me to emphasize that none of them know anything about the enigmas. They were sealed inside an asteroid and never even saw any of their captors. They can tell no one anything about the enigmas. They have all been impacted mentally, physically, and emotionally by their long imprisonment. Given their condition, I intend taking the majority of them back to Alliance space, where I can arrange care and transport back to their home star systems elsewhere in the Syndicate Worlds. However, three of the prisoners say they or their parents came from Taroa, and fifteen others say they came from this star system. Those eighteen wish to return home now. We want to accommodate those wishes, but I desire first to know whatever else you can tell me about conditions at Taroa, and second to know your intentions toward the fifteen who came from Midway. I feel an obligation to see that they are treated well now that they have been freed.”
Geary paused. “The second matter concerns formalizing our relationship with the new government of Midway.”
Iceni had already heard this once, but still felt her heart leap at the words. Formalizing our relationship. He’s officially recognizing this star system as independent, and both Drakon and me as the legitimate rulers here. This is better than I had hoped for.
“I am proposing,” Geary continued, “to assign a senior Alliance officer here to represent the Alliance, to make plain our commitment to your star system, and to render whatever advice or assistance you might ask for in matters of defense and in your transition to a freer form of government. The officer whom I propose to assign here is Captain Bradamont, who has been serving as commanding officer of the battle cruiser Dragon. She is an excellent officer, and because she was at one point a prisoner of war, she has had some prior contact with Syndicate Worlds’ officers and can work with them. Captain Bradamont has already agreed to this official posting, but I require your consent for such an assignment, which I think will be to the benefit of everyone involved. The emissaries of the Alliance government accompanying this fleet have already approved the posting of Captain Bradamont here, so all we require is the acceptance of your government.
“I await your reply on both of these matters. To the honor of our ancestors, Geary, out.”
The message ended, yet Drakon sat for several seconds without saying anything. Finally, he looked at her. “Formalizing our relationship. Does that mean what I think it does?”
“Yes. He’s giving us something very important, official recognition from the Alliance, official recognition from Black Jack himself, but with two complications.”
“Let’s tackle the easier one,” Drakon suggested. “Those people the enigmas had.”
“That’s easier?” She regarded him steadily. “Do you believe Black Jack that none of them know anything about the enigmas?”
“Yes.” Drakon grimaced. “Not because I tend to believe Alliance officers but because there wouldn’t be any point in his lying about that if he intends giving them to us. If he were keeping them? Yes, then I’d be very suspicious. But after we get them, we can ask them anything we want.”
“Once again, Black Jack proves he’s a brilliant politician. He’s giving us the truth and a deal we can’t refuse.” Iceni drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair. “Those citizens. We have to take them. If word ever got out that we’d been offered them and turned Black Jack down, there would be hell to pay. We’d be accused of conspiring with him to keep those citizens’ knowledge of the enigmas hidden.”
“Like you’ve said, he’s tricky.”
“If he has boxed us in on this issue, where can we put them? Where did he say the enigmas held them?”
“Inside an asteroid.” Drakon rubbed his chin, thinking. “It sounds like they had spent a long time there. They wouldn’t want to be dumped on a planet’s surface. It would mess them up to have that much open around them.”
“How do you know that?” Iceni asked. “Black Jack said they had been impacted by their imprisonment, but he didn’t offer any details.”
Drakon paused as if deciding whether to answer, then shrugged. “I knew some people who got released from a labor camp after a long time confined. They were… very uncomfortable without four walls around them.”
Iceni wondered what to say. How many of us know someone who was sent to the labor camps? Not many of us got to meet someone released from the camps, though. Too many died in them. “Were these people friends of yours?”
“Yeah.” Drakon looked down, his expression hard and closed off.
All right. I won’t ask more. I’ll even change the subject for you. “What are you suggesting for these former prisoners of the enigmas then?”
He looked up, obviously relieved that she had not pressed for more personal information. “The main orbiting facility. It’s limited in size, it’s somewhat like what they were used to, it’s a mixed-use facility with military and citizens, security won’t be a major issue since it will be easy to control access, and no one will be able to accuse us of locking them up for our own purposes.”
“Hmmm.” Iceni smiled. “We might even get some credit out of it with the citizens. Look! For the first time, someone has been brought out of space controlled by the enigmas. And here they are, free again, thanks to our relationship with Black Jack.”
Drakon nodded, then fixed his gaze on her. “They’re not really the first.”
“To come out of enigma space?” Iceni asked. “I suppose Colonel Morgan does have the right to claim that. One thing you didn’t tell me was why. Do you know why she volunteered for a suicide mission when she was barely eighteen years old?”
“No. She had been raised in an official orphanage, both parents dead in the war, but Morgan never says one word about it. However, she got a medical waiver to be commissioned after that mission.”
“Oh? What does it say?”
Drakon scowled. “It doesn’t say much beyond approving her for duty. She needed that waiver. Otherwise, Morgan would have been sent into combat as worker-level soldier cannon fodder. That’s what happened to the other guy who was recovered from that mission. He died within a month of being shipped off to one of those battles where we and the Alliance kept feeding in men and women and ships and equipment as if eventually we could choke the machinery of slaughter by giving it enough victims.”
She watched him, knowing the sorts of battles of which Drakon spoke and the awful sense of futility they had created, as if nothing and no one could stop the senseless dying. “But Morgan was saved from that fate when she was commissioned?” Iceni asked as if she had not already known that because of Togo’s investigations. “She must have had a patron to get that waiver. Do you have any idea who her patron was?”
“No. I had to assume she passed the waiver requirements, because Morgan has no connections to anyone who could have arranged a deal.”
“No connections that you know of,” Iceni pressed.
“I’ve looked pretty hard,” Drakon said in a way that made it clear his search had been exhaustive. “But you already know that about her, that she came back from enigma space. I brought that up because, well, we both know Morgan’s got a few issues.”