“The old tricks are the best,” Iceni said dryly. “Sub-CEO Akiri, my agents on the other ships whose commanders have pledged loyalty would have acted when the attack on the surface began. Now I need to formally tell every ship, and CEO Kolani, that I am assuming command.”
“How many are with you?” Akiri asked.
“With us, Sub-CEO Akiri. We’re all in this together.” Akiri didn’t seem entirely convinced of that as Iceni waved around her. “Most of the mobile forces, the warships, are committed to me. Perhaps enough of them to convince Kolani not to fight. But we’ll see. Let’s get to your bridge.”
Iceni looked down at the bodies on the deck, moving her feet slightly to avoid a broad, slow-moving river of blood angling toward her. Despite her feelings about the snakes, and even though this act had been necessary, Iceni found her stomach knotting at the sight and smell. But this was no time to betray squeamishness or irresolution, especially when the citizens around her had already smelled the blood of one set of dead masters. During her difficult climb into the ranks of CEOs, Iceni had gotten very good at pretending not to be bothered in the least by anything she had to do. “Have someone clean up this mess.”
With her bodyguard and Marphissa following, Iceni followed Akiri toward the cruiser’s bridge, feeling oddly deflated for someone in the midst of a rebellion. There was very little chance that Kolani would accept Iceni’s authority, which meant there would be a fight up here as well as on the surface of the planet, and Iceni was already sick of death this day.
Chapter Three
Iceni felt a sense of familiarity as she walked through the passageways of the cruiser. One of her first junior-executive assignments had been on such a warship, and there hadn’t been any major design changes in the years since then. That C-333 had been destroyed in a battle (to be seamlessly replaced by another C-333) two months after Iceni had transferred to another assignment, continuing on her path upward through executive ranks, cultivating mentors and connections, discrediting and outmaneuvering rivals. Eventually, she had briefly commanded flotillas of mobile forces, surviving a few bloody battles with Alliance warships whose crews had an ugly yet admirable tendency to fight to the bitter end, before a snake loyalty sweep had left a star system without a senior CEO, and one of Iceni’s mentors had rigged the replacement process in her favor.
She laughed very softly at the memory, drawing a brief glance from Executive Marphissa walking beside her. “What would you do, Executive, if you stumbled across a major smuggling and tax-evasion scheme that seemed to have no senior CEO involvement?”
Marphissa frowned. “I’d report it, of course. There’d be rewards for whoever did that.”
“You would think so,” Iceni replied, “except that in fact a very senior CEO at Prime had her fingers deeply into that scheme, and she wasn’t happy at all to lose the income it had generated.”
“That’s how you ended up at Midway, Madam CEO?” Marphissa asked.
“That’s how I ended up at Midway. Promoted to senior CEO of a star system facing an unknown foe and as far from anything as any star in Syndicate space as a ‘reward,’ while the other CEO went on to bigger and better things on Prime.” Iceni grinned. “She was there when Black Jack showed up again with the Alliance fleet.”
“How tragic for her,” Marphissa commented. “I ended up here because I had a brother who was accused of treason by a sub-CEO who wanted his position.”
Iceni had already known that, of course, but the records available to her had left one gap. “Did the sub-CEO also encounter Black Jack’s fleet?”
“No. He died just before I transferred. An unfortunate accident.”
Iceni raised one eyebrow at her. “How tragic for him. And just before you left. An accident, you say?”
Executive Marphissa’s expression remained professionally detached. “The official investigation determined that his death had been accidental.”
“Accidents do happen.” So Marphissa had managed to avenge herself without being caught, which implied that the executive had some skill sets that could be very useful for Iceni. Marphissa had also made a point of subtly letting Iceni know that. I need to keep my eye on this one. She has a lot of promise. “But I don’t like being surprised by accidents.”
“If I know of any accidents that might occur, I will be sure to inform the CEO in a timely manner.” Marphissa glanced at her. “There are many uncertainties in battles fought with mobile forces, though, and sometimes surprises. How much command experience do you have in space, Madam CEO?”
“Some time with the mobile forces. Perhaps seven years total. It’s been five years since I commanded a flotilla, though.” Her control of this ship, of the entire situation, rested on her ability to appear to be the best, most competent, and most believable leader in this star system. But something told Iceni that Marphissa was not the sort of subordinate to be easily fooled by a confident demeanor.
“That’s something,” Marphissa said. “Enough to know what to expect. And you will not be alone on the bridge.” She faded back as they reached the bridge, letting Akiri and Iceni enter before her.
The cruiser’s bridge felt a bit cramped after the D-class battle cruiser she had last employed as a flagship. Sub-CEO Akiri rapped out orders as he walked to his command seat. “Assume modified battle-alert status. CEO Iceni has assumed direct command of all mobile forces.”
“Do we have status reports from the rest of the mobile forces?” Iceni demanded, taking her seat in the position next to the commanding officer’s place as her bodyguard assumed a station near the entrance to the bridge. It had taken considerable effort to accumulate the flotilla in this star system even though it was but a pale shadow of the old Reserve Flotilla that had once protected the region. But she had concocted plausible reasons to hang on to mobile forces that were supposed to go to missions elsewhere, had convinced a few mobile forces passing through to remain, and had ceased using Hunter-Killers as couriers back to Prime once it became clear that Prime wasn’t returning any mobile forces the central government got its hands on. It had taken a combination of ruthless use of her authority, more than a little bluffing, and occasional orders “lost” after they arrived in the star system but before they reached the mobile forces. But once the recall order for the entire flotilla came through, something impossible to lose the way lesser communications had been made to vanish, both she and Drakon had realized that they had to move before Kolani became aware of it even if the other orders for Hardrad hadn’t already forced their hands.
The fruits of her labors were six heavy cruisers including the one she was now aboard, five light cruisers, and a pitiful twelve Hunter-Killers. That entire flotilla would have been lost in the fleet Black Jack had once again brought through this star system not long ago. But measured against what was available to the Syndicate government or any other local authorities in this region of space, the flotilla might be enough to protect this star system.
If she could both win a fight against Kolani and not lose too many of those warships in the process.
On the display that came to life before her, Iceni could see the orbits of all of those mobile forces. So far, none of them had started to move out of its assigned orbit. The units close to Kolani’s flagship were ten light-minutes distant from the planet, so they would not have heard or seen any signs of trouble until ten minutes after Drakon’s attack went in. At least the lack of reaction before those ten minutes had elapsed meant that they hadn’t received any tip-offs that Drakon and Iceni were about to act. Kolani had wanted to keep the flotilla concentrated together, but Iceni had been able to use her own authority and some plausible-enough reasons to divide the flotilla into three portions.