At the jump point from Kane, another flotilla had appeared. Heavy cruisers, light cruisers, and Hunter-Killers arrayed around the unmistakable bulk of a battleship. “President Iceni’s units arrived closer to the jump point from Lono than we are, so the light from their arrival reached CEO Gathos’s flotilla before it reached us. She would have seen immediately that Gathos’s flotilla was here, and issued a threat that would have reached Gathos at almost the same moment as Gathos saw our reinforcements.”
Drakon laughed, too. From the planet, the battleship didn’t show any signs of being barely operational. Its huge, threatening, ugly, beautiful hull seemed to gleam wickedly among the much smaller warships surrounding it. “President Iceni, this is General Drakon. I am really happy to see you. Welcome back. For the people, Drakon, out.”
“She cut it fine enough,” Morgan grumbled.
Turning to Malin, Drakon gave him a questioning look. “Did you get a prayer off, Colonel Malin?” Malin nodded. “Whatever you asked for, something seems to have listened.”
Malin showed the ghost of a smile. “I asked that you receive what you deserved, General.”
Drakon paused in surprise, then laughed again. “I guess nothing listened to you after all. If I’d gotten what I deserved, I’d have died storming Gathos’s flagship. You two can stop worrying about setting up that suicide mission and get back to working on preparations for the Taroa operation.”
President Iceni watched him warily from across the table. She looked tired, having taken a heavy cruiser at high speed back to the planet while the rest of her flotilla stayed with the battleship, but her eyes also held a spark of elation. “Neutral ground. Totally secure. No assistants or aides. What is it that you want to talk about? I’ve already heard that you were unhappy about an execution that I ordered.”
Drakon nodded. “Yes. The execution is a minor issue, but I don’t want it to be forgotten. I didn’t like being surprised to hear that someone had been shot on your orders.”
“CEO’s prerogative,” Iceni replied.
“You’re not the only one running things here. I want to have a say in something like that. I want to know what someone has done, and I want a chance to evaluate the circumstances.”
Iceni tilted her head slightly as she watched him, tapping one fingernail against the table. “You think that I silenced someone?”
“It’s possible. You know what they say. Dead lawyers tell no tales.”
“No lawyers were involved in this matter.” She paused, eyes hooded in thought. “But you think it might have been something like that.”
“How do I know otherwise?”
“A reasonable question.” Iceni smiled at him, the expression holding no real feeling. “I will agree to inform you in advance of any more executions, as long as that agreement binds both of us. You also don’t order any executions without telling me in advance of their being carried out.”
He had expected an offer like that. He had also expected her to offer something that seemed like more than it was. Iceni’s proposal left a huge loophole because executions weren’t the same as assassinations or neutralizations. Neither of them would be agreeing not to eliminate anyone by purely extralegal means. But that was all right. He was on record with her about his concerns, and she knew that he would be watching for any signs that she was silencing people who knew the wrong things. “Fine.”
Iceni’s false smile had vanished. “I’m going to be candid with you, General. I’ve been considering a number of issues about how punishment and other legal matters are dealt with.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ensuring that trials really do try to determine guilt and innocence. Ensuring that only those truly guilty are punished.”
“Are you joking?” Drakon eyed her for any signs of twisted humor, or perhaps insanity.
“No. I’m very serious. Needless to say, I will not do anything that imperils you and me, or that would create instability among the citizens.”
“Fine,” Drakon repeated. “I don’t have any objections to looking at that kind of thing, as long as we’re in agreement on whatever’s done, and as long as you and I are looked after in any changes. All right. That was a minor issue. Let’s talk about why I wanted this meeting. Taroa.”
“Taroa? Has one of the factions there prevailed?”
“No. Not yet.” Drakon called up a large display, pointing to a representation of the Taroa Star System. “But we’ve run everything we know or can reasonably well guess through simulations, and every simulation says the Syndicate loyalists will win. The only variation is how long it will take.”
Iceni frowned as she eyed the display. “Simulations are not reality. They can be extremely flawed.”
“I agree. But I looked at the data myself, and my gut tells me they’re right this time. The loyalists have too many resources, including control of the main orbital docks.”
Iceni tapped some controls, zooming in on the primary inhabited world at Taroa. “What happened to the light cruiser that was hanging around there?”
“According to the last we heard, it left.”
“Going back to Prime to report to the central government?”
“No. Going home.” Drakon gestured vaguely. “Lindanen Star System.”
“That’s not close, but it’s not all the way across Syndicate space, either.” Her eyes went to the display again. “Have you thought about what it’s like right now, General? All those star systems where Syndicate rule has ended or is shaky, all the mobile forces deciding whether to stay or go home. The ground forces, too, I suppose. They have the means to force someone to send them where they want to go. Everywhere out there, the broken remnants of the Syndicate Worlds’ military are making their way to wherever they hope to find safety and survival.”
“Or putting down roots where they are. It’s strange to think about,” Drakon agreed. “And worrisome. Those broken pieces of the Syndicate military could end up in the hands of someone who wants to use them to build a new empire.”
“Someone like us?” she asked.
“Could be. But I gather that’s not what you want to do.”
“We haven’t got the strength to build an empire,” Iceni said. “Just defending this star system is going to be a full-time job.”
“Even with the battleship?” Drakon asked, waiting to see if she would tell the truth about the status of that unit.
Another pause as she watched him. “You’ve probably already heard about the state of the battleship. It’s potentially a huge asset for us. But most of its systems are still not operational, and it has far too few crew members to operate those systems even if they were working.”
She had told the truth. That was heartening even if it was driven by the recognition that Drakon’s own sources would have learned the truth sooner or later. “How long until the systems are all up and running?”
“With what we have at Midway to work at it? Five to six months. And getting enough crew will take at least that long. Midway isn’t the most heavily populated of star systems.” Iceni turned her head slightly to smile at him in sudden understanding. “Taroa.”
“Yeah. A place with better ship outfitting yards than we have, stuff we can bring here, and a lot more trained workers who could be enticed to join the crew. You and I both know that we can’t afford to wait five or six months for that battleship to be ready to fight. We have to get it ready faster, and the means to do that are at Taroa.”
“Do you want an empire, General Drakon?”
“No.” Drakon pointed to the representation of Taroa. “There are three factions fighting for control of Taroa. The Syndicate loyalists including the snakes, some group that sounds like those worker committees you ran into at Kane, and some bunch calling themselves the Free Democratic Star System of Taroa. None are that strong because Taroa doesn’t have a hypernet gate. Maybe a third of the Syndicate soldiers went with the Free Taroans, but the rest, and all of the snakes, are in the loyalist camp. Local soldiers mostly went with the Free Taroans though some joined the workers. Our latest information, which is about two weeks old now, confirms that the worker faction is weakening. We got an unconfirmed report that the loyalists put out feelers to the rebel Free Taroans to unify against the workers, but the rebels were smart enough to know they’d be next once the workers were crushed. That just delays the outcome, though. Even if the Syndicate loyalists don’t get reinforcements or other support, and they’re the only faction with any right to expect that, they’ll still win as the workers and the Free Taroans run low on weapons and ammo.”