The dazed survivors gathered what weapons remained to them and waited for the Syndicate warships’ next move, for further attacks or demands for surrender. But, after watching the results of their attack, the Syndicate vessels departed without any other actions and without transmitting any messages. They had, after all, already sent a message about the price of rebellion and had also ensured that nothing remained in Kane worth conquering.
Gwen Iceni sat watching the transmission with her expression schooled into stony impassiveness. It was hard, very hard, to watch the devastation that had been inflicted at Kane without revealing the revulsion she felt at those who had ordered such an action. “Where did we get this?”
“A freighter arriving from a Syndicate-controlled star system,” Togo answered, his voice betraying no more emotion than Iceni’s face did. “They were told the same information was being sent to all star systems in this region.”
“At least we know what CEO Hua Boucher did after we chased her out of this star system.” Iceni closed her eyes as the video continued to play, revealing the results of the bombardment of Kane in carefully composed and edited scenes designed to emphasize the resulting death and destruction. The images formed an incongruous counterpoint to the quiet and comfort of Iceni’s private office. “Didn’t another freighter just arrive here after passing through Kane?”
“Yes, Madam President. Their observations confirm that the bombardment shown actually took place.”
“Can they tell us anything else?”
Togo nodded, the placid gesture at odds with the ugly subject of their conversation. “There was no demand for surrender before the bombardment. No communications at all before the bombardment began striking. Afterward, messages asking for help were directed to the freighter from those on the surface.”
“What could a freighter do to help?” Iceni muttered angrily.
“Nothing,” Togo answered. “But the freighter did promise to bring word of what had happened at Kane to us here.”
“Why bother?” Iceni said, frustrated. “What can we do? Poor, damned Kane didn’t have anything left that the Syndicate wanted, so they turned that star system into an object lesson of the costs of revolt. It would take twenty star systems, twenty wealthy star systems, to be able to muster the resources to help Kane! I want to know how this transmission is playing with the citizens here, Togo. After seeing it, are they worried, scared, defiant, angry, or what?” She knew they would see it, no matter what efforts were bent toward preventing anyone from viewing the images. Those who had lived under the Syndicate knew how to pass information to each other by means even the once all-powerful snakes of the Internal Security Service could never completely shut off.
“I will have that matter investigated, Madam President,” Togo said with another deferential nod.
“And I want word spread around through our agents among the citizens,” Iceni added. “What happened at Kane didn’t happen here. No rioting, no fighting among factions for power, no bombardment by the Syndicate. Make sure the citizens are thinking about the fact that having me in power has prevented all of those things from occurring at Midway.”
“Yes, Madam President. Our agents will remind the citizens that they owe their lives and their security to you.”
She gestured for him to leave, a sharp flip of one hand, and Togo slipped out the door silently. Iceni waited until the door had sealed, waited to run a status check on her security systems and see the green status reports that claimed all was well, then called Drakon. “General, have you seen the images from Kane?”
The question had really been unnecessary. Drakon looked considerably grimmer than usual. “I’ve seen them.”
“Kane has asked us for help.”
Drakon grimaced, looking to the side. “Anything we can do is a drop in the bucket compared to what Kane needs.”
“I know. But… dammit, Artur, I wish we could have destroyed Happy Hua’s battleship and her with it.”
Drakon shrugged. “If wishes were warships,” he said, repeating the first half of the old saying. “Look, we can make a… symbolic gesture. That’s all it would be. It would save a few lives.”
Iceni gave him a keen glance. “I didn’t think we could even manage a symbolic gesture.”
“Sure. The Syndicate intended that Midway serve as a forward base if they deployed other forces here against the enigmas. We’ve got a fair amount of equipment stockpiled that would have been used by those forces.” Drakon was squinting as he read something off his own screen. “Yeah. We can break out of the warehouses two field hospitals and a deployable water purification/reclamation plant. One big freighter can carry all of that. I can send some of the local troops along to get the stuff set up and give a little assistance. Like I said, it’s a drop in the bucket, but it’s something.”
“We don’t need those hospitals and the water plant?” Iceni asked.
“We don’t need them now,” Drakon said. “Maybe someday we might, but we’ve already got a lot more junk in the buried warehouses here and on other planets in this star system than we can use.”
“What is it worth?” Iceni said, wincing inside at the need to consider cost.
“Worth? If we needed it, it would be priceless. But we don’t need it. Kane does, though.”
“Kane does,” Iceni agreed. “Artur, I am incredibly grateful for this. It may be a very small thing measured against Kane’s need, but Kane will remember this, that we helped them when they needed it.”
Drakon paused, studying her. “Is that what this is all about? Political maneuvering? Getting someone else to feel in our debt?”
“No! I—” Why am I objecting? Of course, I should be doing this to get Kane in our debt. That’s just a smart way of doing business. So what? “Is there some other reason?”
He shrugged again. “Just checking.”
“Listen, General, it doesn’t matter what our motivations are. Kane will be grateful.”
“And… ?”
“And what?”
Drakon gave her a serious look. “I was wondering if our motivations do matter. We started doing all this in order to survive. Is that still our reason for what we’re doing?”
Iceni leaned back, letting a small smile play on her lips, giving the outward image she had learned to project as a Syndicate CEO. “Isn’t that enough of a reason?”
“I don’t know,” Drakon replied, sounding thoughtful. “Survival can lead to a lot of short-term solutions that blow up in your face over the long run.”
“That’s not exactly breaking news,” Iceni said, wondering what Drakon was driving at.
“What do we want at Kane? There’s a lot of potential there, and the Syndicate just pretty much wiped out all the different people who were fighting to be in charge. It will be a decade before Kane can rebuild much, but if you and I are still around then, what do we want Kane to be? And what about Ulindi? If we take that star system, do we let them set up some government we can live with, or do we install a puppet, or do we make Ulindi part of our… what? Empire?”
She paused to think that through while Drakon waited with stolid patience. “Empire” sounded nice. But… “Could we even hold an empire? Defend it against external attacks and maintain internal order?”
“I don’t think so. We don’t have enough ground forces or warships for that job. Not even close.” Drakon waved one hand upward. “We’ve got enough firepower to do what the Syndicate just did at Kane, but I don’t mind admitting that I don’t have the stomach for that.”
“Nor do I. We’re trying to tie Taroa tightly to us. Why not do the same at Ulindi?”