“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.”
“Kommodor,” the senior watch specialist began urgently.
“I see.” Alerts had appeared on her display as ships in the Syndicate flotilla began changing vectors. “Accelerating, coming around. All the heavy cruisers and all the Hunter-Killers.”
“Are they going after the new cruiser?” Kapitan Toirac asked.
“It’s a safe bet,” Marphissa said. “We need to see if—”