Great. Marphissa glowered at the image of HTTU 743. I have a big ship with no bridge and no engineering controls clumping its way toward the jump point for Kiribati. “I need your estimate as to whether it would be worth the trouble to take that hulk in tow and get it back to the planet with us.”
She could tell the question had been relayed when every surviving crew member of the transport that she could see began shaking their heads with varying degrees of violence.
“They all say no, Kommodor. I agree,” Hawk’s commanding officer added. “From what our landing parties have seen, the 743 really is a hulk. The snakes burned out every system and circuit they could before they died, the hull structure took damage from our firing on it, and the power core is shaky because of something the snakes did to its controls.”
The other issues could have gone either way, but not a power core that was less than stable. “I want that power core rigged to self-destruct. Can you take aboard all of the surviving crew members?”
“Yes, Kommodor. It will be tight, but we can do it.”
“Keep them under guard until we can sort them out,” Marphissa said. “Set the power core to blow a half hour after you break contact with 743.”
“Only half an hour?”
“Yes. If something goes wrong, if it doesn’t blow, I don’t want to have to chase that ship halfway to the Kiribati jump point to catch it and make sure it is destroyed.”
Marphissa scanned her display again irritably. “Hawk can’t take aboard any of the crew members from the escape pods,” she told Diaz. “She’s going to be full of those who were stuck on 743.”
After glowering at her display for a moment, Marphissa tapped her comm controls. “Gryphon, Eagle, detach immediately, proceed to pick up escape pods from HTTU 743. Kapitan Stein on Gryphon is in command until your units rejoin our flotilla.”
Thirty minutes later, the remains of HTTU 743 disappeared in a flash of energy as the ship’s power core overloaded. Hawk was returning to rejoin the flotilla, and Gryphon and Eagle were beginning to recover crew members from the escape pods, as Marphissa gave the order for the rest of the ships to head for Ulindi’s habitable planet.
Defeats were always bad, but even victories could be messy.
This small portion of the surface of the habitable world orbiting Ulindi looked like some kind of construction site, sticking out as a dirt-shaded scar amid green fields and stands of trees. Drakon walked down the shuttle ramp and nodded to the local officials who stood nervously awaiting him. “This is it?” he asked.
“It’s one of the places,” a young man said, his voice trembling.
Drakon moved to the side of a fresh excavation, looking down at tumbled bodies still encrusted with the dirt that had recently covered them. The mass grave appeared to contain the remains of at least a few hundred men and women. “They look like they died a few weeks ago,” Drakon said, letting his disgust be clearly heard.
“Yes, honored—I mean, yes, General,” an older man said. “We knew there had been many arrests, that the snakes had been rounding up not only anyone they even slightly suspected but also apparently citizens at random to terrorize the rest of us into submission. But we thought they were being placed in labor camps.” His voice broke on the last words.
“Do you have any idea how many?” Drakon asked.
“Our records are a mess,” a woman said, sounding weary as well as sad. “The snakes detonated virtual bombs in all our databases and networks when it looked like they were going to lose. We’re back to paper and pens and trying to reconstruct the data from whatever unauthorized backups saved portions of the destroyed records.”
“At a guess,” the young man said, “we’re dealing with thousands of dead.”
“How about during the fighting?” Drakon asked. “How many got hurt while my forces were fighting the Syndicate and Haris’s forces?”
“Your… military losses… General?” the older man asked, puzzled. “We don’t know—”
“No,” Drakon said patiently. “Citizens. I understand most were evacuated from the city before we landed. How many got hurt during the fighting?”
They all looked shocked at a senior supervisor expressing concern for casualties among the workers and their families. “Not too many,” someone said. “Citizens were ordered out of the city you attacked even before the snake headquarters was bombarded.”
“They were afraid we would rise up and attack the Syndicate troops that were attacking you,” another said. “We had no weapons, we had no leaders, we couldn’t have done anything. But the snakes see enemies everywhere.”
“That’s funny, isn’t it?” the old man said. “They saved a lot of our lives because they thought we might be enemies and so forced us to leave the city before the fighting broke out.”
“Are there any leaders left among you?” Drakon asked.
The locals exchanged glances. None of them seemed eager to claim the title of leader or offer up any names. He knew why. They didn’t trust him not to also round up anyone who might be a leader among the citizens. “Listen up, all of you,” Drakon said as if speaking to his troops. “Neither I nor my soldiers intend staying at Ulindi. We had to get rid of Haris and the Syndicate because they were a threat to this entire region. But we aren’t going to rule Ulindi. It’s your star system. You need to put together a government to make decisions and plan and coordinate actions. You’ve had your fill of the Syndicate. One of your decisions will have to be whether you want to voluntarily align yourselves with Midway Star System. Nobody is going to be forced to join, but we’re trying to set up a mutual defense arrangement to protect the local star systems from the Syndicate, from warlords, and from the enigmas.”
They were staring at him again. One finally spoke. “The… enigmas?”
“You must have heard rumors of them even though the Syndicate did its best to keep them secret.” Drakon waved toward the sky. “An alien species, intelligent and hostile. They pushed the Syndicate out of star systems like Hina and Pele, and have tried to take Midway Star System more than once.”
“There have been rumors,” a woman confirmed. “You know this is true?”
“They’ve attacked Midway Star System. I’ve seen their ships.”
“You just came to get rid of Haris and the Syndicate?” someone else asked in a bewildered voice. “But if they are gone and you leave, who is in charge?”
“Who do you want to be in charge?” Drakon said. “I’m going to leave you all some records we have of events that have taken place recently at star systems like Taroa, Kane, and Midway. We, and by we I mean the soldiers of my ground forces and the crew members of our warships, are giving you a gift. It’s a dangerous gift. We’re going to let you decide who will rule you and how. We’ll offer advice. We’ll show you what happened elsewhere and the choices others made, and you’ll see the mistakes others made.”
“We… we need to be safe,” the old man faltered. “Why did you get rid of the Syndicate just to leave us without any protection? At least they—”
Drakon pointed at the mass grave. “They did this. Look at it. Do you feel safe when you do? That’s the Syndicate form of protection, where you die to keep them in power. I have no interest in killing any of you, nor do I have any interest in any of my soldiers dying to make you do what I want. I’ve already lost too many people here. As long as you don’t threaten Midway Star System, or ally with someone who threatens us, I don’t care what you do. But the decision will be yours. Figure out who you want to speak for you. We’re leaving you what amounts to a reinforced brigade of ground forces, made up of the remnants of the ground forces that used to be here and those soldiers from the Syndicate division who want to stay here and help you guys defend yourselves.”