He and Iceni began walking back toward the VIP boarding area, Bradamont between them. It felt odd to walk side by side with an Alliance officer. Very odd. Soldiers formed security a ways before and behind as they walked, as did several men and women dressed as citizens who stayed well away but who were exceptionally alert and radiated a dangerous competence.
“My office,” Iceni said, “is issuing a public announcement about you, Captain Bradamont. Everyone in Midway Star System is being told that you are here as a personal representative of Black Jack. Do you know the term ‘scion’?”
Bradamont shook her head.
“There are several sorts of patronage arrangements in the Syndicate system,” Iceni explained. “We still default to that system. People still think in those terms and understand those terms. Most patronage arrangements are informal, reflecting varying degrees of interest by a higher-up in the career and life of a particular subordinate.”
“I understand that sort of thing,” Bradamont said.
“Then there is a scion,” Iceni continued. “A scion is a formal designation of patronage. When someone is declared the scion of a high-ranking official, it says that anything that happens to the scion, any threat made to the scion, is the same as if it was done to the high-ranking patron. My office is identifying you to every citizen as a scion of Black Jack and a scion of both General Drakon and myself.”
Iceni gave Bradamont a wry look. “There has probably never been a scion with that amount of firepower in her corner. Congratulations.”
“Thank you, but that wasn’t necessary—”
“Yes, it was,” Drakon said. “Everyone had to know that any attempt to harm you or mistreat you would be regarded in the exact same way as a personal attack on myself or President Iceni. That won’t keep you safe from anyone gunning for either of us, but it will stave off attempts by anyone tempted to settles scores from the war.”
“It will also,” Iceni added, “ensure that you are treated appropriately to your rank. Anyone who insults you will know they are insulting us as well.” She brought out a comm unit and passed it to Bradamont. “This is yours. It is loaded with personal contact numbers for myself, General Drakon, and some of our high-ranking assistants. If you use this unit to call any of the official numbers it will automatically encrypt the conversation. That does not mean no one can intercept the signal or decipher what is being said. Never say anything confidential on this unit or in public. Save such conversations for face-to-face talks in secure environments.”
“We’ve set up quarters for you at my command complex,” Drakon said. “There’s a suite there for visiting VIPs. It’s a lot more than an officer of your rank would normally get, but then you’re also sort of an ambassador. Having you inside the command complex perimeter will make security a lot easier.”
Bradamont just nodded this time, looking at the military and civilian guards around them. Her thoughts couldn’t be read from her expression, but Drakon found himself wondering if this level of guards and security would have been found around comparable Alliance leaders. Probably. The Syndicate didn’t have an exclusive monopoly on crazies. But for someone much lower on the ladder like Bradamont, this amount of personal security must feel weird.
They reached the access to the VIP dock, shedding most of the guards and all of the onlookers as they left the public areas. “Tell me,” Iceni said to Bradamont, “your impression of Kommodor Marphissa.”
“She is talented and has a great deal of potential,” Bradamont said without hesitation. “Due to her rapid rise in rank, she has some experience to gain, but I have no doubt she will pick that up quickly.”
“I understand that you witnessed the removal from command of Kapitan Toirac,” Iceni continued.
“I did.”
“What was your impression of Kapitan Toirac?”
This time Bradamont did pause before speaking, each word coming out with thought behind it. “Promoted well above his level of competence. Unable to handle the responsibilities. Unwilling to address his weak areas. Now so embittered that I would not trust him in any position of authority.”
“I see.” Iceni halted, causing the rest of them to stop walking as well, and studied Bradamont. “Did you discuss the matter with Kommodor Marphissa?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And Kapitan-Leytenant Kontos? What did you think of him?”
Bradamont smiled slightly. “He is impressive. He has a lot to learn, but I have no doubt he will pick everything up fast. He’s the closest thing to a natural I’ve ever met.”
“A natural?” Iceni asked.
Drakon answered. “Someone with an instinctive grasp for the right thing to do and how to do it. That was Colonel Rogero’s impression of Kontos as well.”
Bradamont kept her expression controlled but her eyes went to Drakon as he said Rogero’s name.
Iceni noticed that as well, raising an eyebrow at Drakon. “I will leave you here, Captain Bradamont. General Drakon and I are traveling by separate shuttles for security reasons. I have in hand a proposal from Kommodor Marphissa for a very hazardous mission. I want to talk to you about that soon. General, you will have to be at that meeting as well. The proposed mission will require some ground forces as security.”
“Yes,” Bradamont said. “I do want to talk about that as soon as possible. But I don’t think it can be done now that the Syndic hypernet is gone.”
“You didn’t hear? A freighter arrived via hypernet a few hours ago. Everything is working again.”
Bradamont stared at Iceni. “You— The Syndicate Worlds can do that? Selectively shut off your hypernet?”
“The Syndicate apparently can do it,” Drakon said. “But we can’t.” Iceni turned a reproachful look on him. He knew why and answered her unspoken rebuke. “Captain Bradamont needs to know that. She needs to tell the Alliance we still have a hypernet gate that is of great value to them and that we did not block Black Jack’s fleet from reaching other destinations.”
Iceni thought about it for all of two seconds, then nodded. “You’re right, General. The arrival of that freighter came as a great shock to us, Captain Bradamont.”
“I do need to get word of that back home as fast as I can,” Bradamont agreed. “Before you go, Madam President, I should deliver these to you and General Drakon.” She put a hand into one pocket, apparently oblivious to the way the remaining bodyguards focused intently on her motion, and brought out two data coins. “From Admiral Geary. These are reports on what we found in enigma space, Kick space, and Dancer space, as well as what information we have on each species.”
Drakon took one of the discs. “These are identical?”
“The discs? Yes, sir. One for each of you.”
“How diplomatic,” Iceni commented, taking hers. “Are there any surprises on here?”
“I don’t know,” Bradamont replied. “I know Admiral Geary already told you some things. He said to me that you are on the front lines of humanity’s contact with these species and therefore need to know as much as possible about them.”
“A pity he did not allow some of our technicians to board the captured alien superbattleship,” Iceni said pointedly.
Bradamont made an apologetic gesture with one hand. “Even our own techs haven’t been allowed on board. There’s a security force on Invincible, but we don’t dare touch anything until we get her back to Alliance space.”
Drakon had to admit that the explanation made sense, but it was the same sort of excuse he would have offered to anyone who wanted to stick their nose in somewhere he didn’t want them to go. At least Black Jack is being polite when he tells us to go to hell. “Let me know about that meeting,” Drakon told Iceni, then led Bradamont into his shuttle.