Enemy in the Dark (26 page)

I know those uniforms . . .
he thought, fighting through the battle trance.

Which is about the moment they began firing at the soldiers surrounding him.

Thank Chrono—Celtiborian soldiers!

“Hold your fire!” Zel's men were halfway toward the strange melee. He'd ordered his best shots to pick off the soldiers around the perimeter. They were clad in the uniforms of the palace guard, the same livery worn by the soldiers who'd fired on his people earlier. But this wasn't an enemy position, it was a fight. And whoever these men were attacking was probably an ally.

“Arkarin Blackhawk,” he shouted as his men moved forward. “This is Captain Zel of the Celtiborian Expeditionary Force. If you are there, identify yourself.”

“I am Arkarin Blackhawk,” a voice cried from the center of the deadly scrum.

Zel kept running toward the surging mass of struggling bodies. He threw his rifle over his shoulder as he approached and drew his blade. “Swords,” he shouted to his men. He could hear the sound behind him, hard metal ringing as ten blades were pulled from their sheaths, almost as one. “Strike with care. There is an ally in there.”

His force crashed into the mass of enemy soldiers, and battle was joined. Swords swung through the air, clanging loudly as
they struck their counterparts. The mass of men surged and flowed around the area. The two forces were similar in number, but the Celtiborians were veteran soldiers, and Marshal Lucerne had always insisted his men train with their blades as seriously as they did with their guns. And they were attacking the guards' rear, which made it even less of a contest.

And in the center of the bloody mass, Arkarin Blackhawk dispatched foe after foe, fighting his way grimly toward his rescuers.

When it was over, Blackhawk stood before Zel. He was wounded in half a dozen places, but nowhere severely. He was covered head to toe in blood, though little of it, Zel suspected, was his own. The Celtiborian didn't even want to guess how many men Arkarin Blackhawk had killed during his escape from the palace.

“You're safe now, Captain Blackhawk. General DeMark sent us to find you.”

Blackhawk stared back for a few seconds, and it looked like he was about to say something. But he just fell forward and collapsed into Zel's arms.

The Celtiborian stood firm, holding the exhausted man while he turned toward the squad leader. “Sergeant Avanari, contact headquarters at once. Tell them we found Captain Blackhawk. Alive.”

“IT IS GOOD TO SEE YOU, MAK. IT HAS BEEN TOO LONG.” VOS
stood up from his chair and walked toward his second in command. “Out,” he said, smiling as the door wardens and the chamberlain scrambled to leave the room. He didn't have to shout anymore or throw things. He'd finally gotten them trained to jump at his commands.
Still, I may toss something every now and again, just to keep them on their toes.

“And you, Governor.” Wilhelm was resplendent in his dress uniform. Vos thought he had broken him of the practice of dressing formally every time they met to discuss things, but the long separation had apparently caused a minor relapse to old habits.

“You are to be commended on your work on Antilles, my old
friend.” Vos's voice was cheerful. Things were going well—very well indeed. “I am sorry to have missed Danellan Lancaster's expression when you informed him we had purchased nearly a third of his company.”

“He was quite surprised. And very rattled. I think whatever capacity the fool has for rational thought slipped away in the blink of an eye.”

Vos gestured toward the table as he walked over and took a seat. “No doubt. He is—was, perhaps—an arrogant man. I doubt he ever gave a second thought to anyone challenging his control of Lancaster Interests, much less so quickly.”

Wilhelm followed Vos, taking a seat across from the governor. “That speed came at a cost, Governor. We paid double what it was worth. An enormous commitment of resources.”

Vos held back a smile. Wilhelm had always been conservative, and it was difficult for the general to embrace a strategy so aggressive. Vos knew, however, that cost was irrelevant if it led to victory. Once the Far Stars was firmly under imperial control, the emperor's tax farmers would squeeze these Rim-worlders in ways they'd never imagined possible. The cost of subjugation, however enormous, would be paid by the conquered, as it had been from the dawn of time.

“A necessary commitment, Mak. If we'd offered less, our purchases would have been far slower, and eventually, even a fool like Danellan Lancaster would have been in a position to do something about our actions. Speed was the overriding factor.”

“In any event, it appears to have worked. He agreed to all our demands. He didn't even offer much of a struggle, just a few face-saving changes that altered nothing.” Despite the good news, though, Wilhelm didn't seem happy.

“What is it, Mak?”

“Well, sir, Lancaster has acceded to our demands, but what is to stop him from changing his mind? Perhaps once we have halted our share purchases, he will take steps to shore up his control.”

“A reasonable concern . . . but who ever said we are going to stop our share purchases?” Vos smiled. “Danellan Lancaster isn't the only one who can disregard an agreement, is he?”

“So we are going to resume buying? What if he finds out? Won't he back away from his own obligations under the agreement?”

“Perhaps, Mak, but our current purchase efforts are much slower and less noticeable now. As you know, most of the remaining shares are held in trusts and institutional accounts, and we face a cumbersome approval process from potential sellers. Our activity will be much more difficult to notice than our previous open market buying.”

Wilhelm nodded, but he still looked skeptical.

“But more important, Mak, Danellan Lancaster will soon have no option but to beg us for our friendship. Indeed, he will soon be committed to us irrevocably, for reasons even more dear to his cowardly hide than money.”

“I don't understand, sir. We threaten his company, but as you just explained, we do not have the capacity to obtain 51 percent ownership of Lancaster Interests, at least not in the short term. We are playing off Lancaster's fear, but should he rethink things, he could turn on us at any time.”

“Yes, except for one new piece of intel: Marshal Augustin Lucerne is about to be very, very angry at Danellan Lancaster.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Do you recall seeing a report about a weapons convoy intercepted as it was attempting to deliver a shipment to Nordlingen?”

“Yes, it was in the security briefing I received when I returned. An unfortunate turn of events.”

“You think so? Perhaps you have not considered it from all angles . . .”

“You mean . . . it was
intentional
? You set the convoy up to be captured? But why? What gain was there in handing over a huge weapons cache to the enemy?”

“The weapons are inconsequential. A means to an end and nothing more.”

“You fed them information? False information?”

Vos leaned back in his chair. “Information? Yes. But false? Certainly not, Mak. I only lie when I cannot obtain the desired result telling the truth. In some ways it is easier dealing with an intelligent adversary like Lucerne. It allows subtlety that is not an option with fools like Lancaster, who are likely to miss the point entirely.”

“You want Lucerne to know Lancaster is working with us.” Wilhelm was silent, thinking. “You want to provoke a confrontation?” His voice grew stronger, his tone more certain. “No, not just a confrontation.” He looked up at Vos.

“You want all-out war between Celtiboria and Antilles.”

“Exactly. I arranged for the convoy to be sent unknowingly into the teeth of the Celtiborian blockade, so there was no chance they would avoid interception. And the cache of weapons was particularly large, ensuring it would be brought immediately to Marshal Lucerne's attention.”

“And they will tie Vestron Shipping to Lancaster,” Wilhelm added. “And
only
Lancaster, since we are silent partners.”

“Indeed, Mak.”

Wilhelm thought some more. “But that wouldn't be enough . . . there's more . . .”

“Very good,” Vos said. “I took it one step further by making sure that the data systems on the Vestron ships detailed deliveries made to all the worlds where our weapons have been discovered . . .”

“Such as Rykara and Castilla . . .”

“And now Lucerne has no choice but to assume the Lancasters were pulling the strings at Vestron even before they purchased the company. He will suspect our involvement too, but he will have direct evidence pointing only to Lancaster.”

“He will believe Danellan Lancaster was betraying him from the beginning, even when they met on Celtiboria.” A smile crept on to Wilhelm's lips. “And when Lancaster arranges to delay the vote on Antilles entry into the confederation as I instructed him to do, it will confirm Lucerne's belief that his new ally was lying to him all this time.” He paused and his smile widened. “He will be furious.”

“And as we've seen, Marshal Lucerne is a very dangerous man when he's angry.”

Wilhelm laughed.

“So while the two largest Primes of the Far Stars battle each other, we'll be free to secure our positions on the fringe worlds. And though I have no doubt Lucerne will conquer Antilles, the fight will exhaust his forces even more than his recent planetary excursions. He will lose dozens of ships and hundreds of thousands of his precious veterans. And the other Primes will see his aggression against Antilles, and they will resist his entreaties to join the confederation—especially with a bit of . . . shall we say, encouragement. If we are truly fortunate, one or more might actually fight him.

“Then we will simply pick up the pieces.”

“Brilliant,” Wilhelm murmured. There was a hint of doubt in his voice.

“You have a question . . .” Vos said.

Wilhelm shook his head. “Sorry. I was just wondering what happens if Lucerne defeats the Antilleans more easily than you expect. We should not underestimate his military capabilities. If he doesn't lose enough, he will still be stronger than anything we can oppose him with—and he will have the wealth and resources of Antilles at his disposal . . . whatever is left of it after the war, at least.”

Vos smiled again. “And that's the other thing you don't know yet, Mak. Something that happened while you were on Antilles. Do you remember Draco Tragonis?”

“Of course,” replied Wilhelm. “We worked with him a number of times. A very ambitious man. And a capable one, if a bit too impressed by titles and puffery.”

“That's Draco,” said Vos, allowing himself a brief chuckle. “Well, he is here. And he brought a legion with him, a veteran formation.”

Wilhelm stared back in surprise. “The emperor finally gave in and released a combat unit for the crossing?”

“Yes, well, Draco was always very persistent. It appears I was correct that the Far Stars is still a considerable burr in the imperial backside. Even the modest amount of progress we have made so far contrasts well with the folly of our predecessors.”

“That is good news, certainly, but a single legion cannot hope to meet Lucerne's armies.”

“Who said anything about a single legion, Mak? Tragonis is even now on Kalishar, setting up a training facility. His legion will become the cadre for an army recruited from the dispos
sessed of the Far Stars. We will turn every fringe gutter rat who takes our bounty into an imperial soldier.”

Wilhelm sat quietly, a stunned expression on his face.

“Indeed, Mak, we initially designed a plan to seize control of the Far Stars with trickery and manipulation. Now, we will have an army to back that up. And if the two most powerful worlds in the Far Stars fight themselves to exhaustion, the rest will fall in rapid succession.” Vos paused and slapped his hand down on the table. “And then these arrogant Rim-worlders will learn obedience. Yes, by the gods, they will learn how to heed the commands of their betters.”

He finally let the full laugh out, and his eyes gleamed with self-satisfaction, as he imagined his plans reaching their ultimate fruition.

The Far Stars crushed under his iron boot.

“BY CHRONO, YOU LOOK LIKE HELL, ARK. I KNOW I ASKED YOU TO
do me a favor, but what the hell?” Lucerne had walked through the door briskly, his eyes focusing immediately on Blackhawk, who was sitting on the edge of the bed while two med techs worked on him. The
Claw'
s captain had chunks of semidried blood in half a dozen places, and he had a nasty bruise on the side of his face, but he looked a hell of a lot better than he had an hour before, when they had brought him in half conscious and covered in blood.

“You know me, Augustin. I've never known how to do a job half-assed. What reports have you heard?”

“So much for small talk?”

Blackhawk offered him a weak smile, but there wasn't much behind it.

Sighing, Lucerne said, “Only that you walked right into the palace forty kilometers behind enemy lines to grab King Gustav, and then you found him a prisoner and rescued him, almost single-handedly ending the battle for Nordlingen.” Lucerne walked across the room. “Did I miss anything?”

“That might be a bit of a dramatization. If I didn't know better, I'd swear that's how Ace told the story.”

Blackhawk looked around the room. There were half a dozen medical personnel and two guards at the door. He stared back at Lucerne, but he didn't say anything.

“Out.” Lucerne understood Blackhawk's unspoken message. “All of you. Now.”

The two old friends stared at each other while everyone left the room, closing the door behind them.

“Okay, Ark. What's going on? I mean really going on?”

“It
is
the empire, Augustin. And it's no small effort. They are systematically intervening in conflicts all over the Far Stars. Saragossa, Castilla, Rykara . . . now Nordlingen. They are all related. Even Astra's abduction, I suspect, had something to do with it.” He paused, sighing softly. “This is trouble, Augustin. Big trouble.”

Lucerne took a deep breath and exhaled hard. “Are you sure, Ark?” He looked into his friend's eyes. “I mean, really sure. No doubts at all?”

Blackhawk slid off the table and stood in front of Lucerne. He wobbled a bit, but he caught himself and held steady. “Absolutely sure. No doubt. None.”

“You know I trust you, Ark, but it's not just us. I need proof. I talked with King Gustav, and he told me everything, but he had
no real evidence it was the empire interfering there. How can you be so certain?”

Blackhawk instinctively looked in both directions, reaffirming what he already knew—that they were completely alone. “I just know, Augustin. You'll have to take my word.” He paused, wrestling with what else he wanted to say. With anyone else, he'd have stopped there, offering his assurances but no specifics. But Lucerne already knew who he was—who he had been.
He accepted me even after he knew I was a monster. I owe this man my complete trust.

“Of course I trust you—”

“There was a man in the palace,” Blackhawk said, cutting off his friend. “An imperial agent.”

“You're positive? It's been a long time since you've been in the empire, Ark.”

Blackhawk's voice was somber. “Oh yes. This man wasn't just any agent. He . . .”

He hesitated, swallowing hard before he continued. “He was my protégé. I trained him, instructed him in how to kill in the emperor's name. We did horrific things together, Augustin, inflicted terror on millions. Then I broke my imperial conditioning and I ran—and I left him behind. But I knew him as soon as I saw him. It all came crashing down on me in that dungeon. And not just the horror I inflicted, but the fact that I never tried to reach him, teach him how to flee from that life, how to repent and struggle to save the remnants of his soul. No, I just disappeared.”

“Ark, you can't hold yourself responsible for that. You did what you had to do, and for twenty years you have been a good man.”

“Am I a good man, Augustin? Am I really? I made Vagran Calgarus into the creature he became, and then I abandoned
him. I killed, I made a killer, and then I left that killer free for
twenty
years. Who knows how much blood is on my hands because of him?” He stared down at his palms, then he looked at Lucerne with haunted eyes. “And you know why I killed him? Not to purge the world of a murderer. Not out of some sort of feeling of justice or redemption or even kindness. No, I killed him because I didn't want him to
tell anybody about me
. I killed him because I was selfish. Because I was a
coward
. Scared of what my crew would think. Or Astra . . .”

Lucerne moved closer to Blackhawk, and he threw his arm around his friend. “Ark, I want you to listen to me. You've been running for twenty years. Hiding. It's time for that to stop. Tell your crew. Tell Astra. You are underestimating them. They know who you are now, and that is what matters to them, not who you might have been long ago. They love you, Ark. You talk about not being able to save this agent's soul, but what about the souls of all those men and women on your ship. Are you telling me you didn't give them second chances . . . or third, or fourth?” He paused. “You took a risk on them. And I also remember when you took a chance on me. Remember? When you told me the truth all those years ago. Did anything change between us? Aren't we still friends to this day?

“Ark, there is no one I trust more, my friend.”

The two men stood for a long time, neither speaking a word. Finally, Blackhawk said, “Maybe you are right, Augustin. It would be a relief, one way or another. I'm so tired of hiding my past, of wondering what they all imagine when I say nothing.”

Lucerne forced a smile. “Tell them, Ark. Trust them.”

“I will. I promise. But this isn't the time. Whatever I did, whatever I am, it is immaterial right now. We have a very real problem. The current imperial governor appears to be con
siderably more capable than his predecessors . . . and he also seems to have substantial resources at his disposal.” He paused then added, “This is a grave threat, Augustin. To Celtiboria, to the confederation, to all the Far Stars.”

Lucerne nodded. “We still need proof, Ark. Something we can use to rally all the sector. We know it is the empire, you and I. But we still have to find a way to shake the other worlds into action. To make them rediscover their fear of the empire.”

“We will find something, Augustin. It is my fault Calgarus is dead instead of in a cell confessing the empire's involvement. So I give you my word, I will get you the proof you need. I will do whatever is necessary.” His eyes blazed with resolve. “Whatever it takes.”

“Commodore Jardaines, you are to be commended. This is an enormous cache of weapons, and keeping it out of the hands of our enemies has saved thousands of Celtiborian lives.”

Lucerne was staring out over the mountain of crates his people had confiscated from the six Vestron freighters. They were full of imperial weapons, all of them. Enough to equip an entire army, or nearly so.

“Thank you, sir. But Captain Nortel of the
Warrington
deserves the credit. He detected the convoy, and by the time I arrived with additional fleet units, he had boarded all six vessels and secured their crews.”

“I will see to it that he is suitably decorated, Commodore.” He pulled his eyes from the weapons cache and looked at the naval officer. “Have you questioned the crew?”

“Yes, sir. Typical freighter jockeys. They claim to have no knowledge of their cargo.”

“They may be telling the truth, Lavare. The men on those
ships may be utterly in the dark, but I want the captains questioned aggressively. They may not know anything, but if anyone does, it will be them.”

“Indeed, sir. In the meantime, I've ordered a complete review of the data systems on the vessels, and I believe we have uncovered some disturbing patterns.”

Lucerne's eyes widened. “Such as?”

“Well, sir, it appears that two previous Vestron convoys arrived at Nordlingen shortly before our invasion.”

“That is interesting, however not necessarily conclusive. It is still possible the firm was duped on the cargoes they were delivering.”

“Perhaps it is not conclusive on its own, sir. But there were other Vestron shipments . . . to Rykara. And to Castilla before that. I would say the likelihood of coincidence is falling rapidly.”

“Indeed, Commodore.” Lucerne's tone darkened. “That is too much contraband to be coincidental. Even if the source of those weapons was external, someone at Vestron would have had to have known what they were carrying. There were too many convoys for them to have been completely in the dark.”

“Agreed, sir. The company had to be involved. Deeply, if you want my analysis.”

Lucerne turned and walked slowly across the room. “The Vestron family was rumored to be having considerable financial difficulties. They may have been susceptible to a bribe. Perhaps not openly from the governor, but through an intermediary. They may have believed they were dealing with criminal or black market traffic, a risk they might have taken for enough gain.” He shook his head. “But that doesn't make sense either. For one shipment, perhaps. But it had to be clear that this kind of volume could only come from one source. Is it possible the
Vestrons took imperial coin and betrayed the entire sector?” Even as he asked it, though, he was incredulous. Augustin Lucerne couldn't imagine anyone in the Far Stars selling out to the empire.

Jardaines shifted his weight uncomfortably. He opened his mouth to speak, but he closed it again without saying anything.

“What is it, Commodore? Speak freely.”

“Sir . . . I guess you haven't heard the news, but the Vestron firm has been recently sold. It must have come out while you were in hyperspace.”

“Sold? To whom?” Lucerne had a tight feeling in his stomach. He suspected he wouldn't like what he was about to hear.

“Lancaster Interests, sir. Apparently they bought the whole thing, lock, stock, and barrel. For a generous sum too, especially considering that the Vestrons were in distress.”

Lucerne looked down at the floor for a few seconds, trying to compose himself.

He failed.

“Danellan Lancaster! In league with the governor?” He felt the wave of anger sweeping across him, and his whole body shook.

Is it possible? Could Lancaster
—
could all of Antilles
—
have betrayed me? If they did, I swear to Chrono I will
. . .

“Excuse me, sir, but there is more.”

Lucerne turned abruptly. “What, Commodore?”

“It was in the morning briefing, sir. The Antillean Senate postponed the vote on formal membership in the Far Stars Confederation. The stated reason was a localized drought that prevented a significant number of senators from attending. But if the Lancasters have . . .”

“Betrayed us,” Lucerne finished the statement. He turned
and slammed his fist on the table.
Danellan Lancaster stabbed me in the back. He lied to my face, and he waited for just the right moment to make his move.

The rage surging through his body was elemental. Lucerne was normally a patient man, one slow to anger. But now he surrendered to it completely.
What arrogance! What greed! I offered Lancaster the lifeblood of a dozen worlds to feed his insatiable lust for money and it wasn
'
t enough!

“Commodore,” he said, barely containing his fury at the news, “send a communications drone to Celtiboria immediately. Admiral Desaix is to assemble the fleet, every ship fit for combat. He is to recall the vessels dispatched to the expeditionary forces. I want every transport that can fly filled to the supports with troops, every freighter commandeered and stuffed with ordnance.” He turned and stared at Jardaines, his eyes glittering with rage. “Destination Antilles.”

“Yes, sir.” The commodore snapped his commander a perfect salute, and he turned and rushed out the door to carry out his orders.

Lucerne stared at the wall, his body shaking, his hands at his sides clenched into tight fists.

You will learn, Danellan Lancaster. You will learn the price of betrayal. You and all of Antilles.

“He's gone mad, Ark.” General DeMark sat in a chair looking across the table at Blackhawk. The two were sitting on the lower level of the
Claw,
just outside DeMark's camp. The room was filled with most of the crew. DeMark had intended to speak alone with Blackhawk, but he'd come to trust and respect the rest of them as well.

The Celtiborian general was tense. He was worried about
Lucerne—and uncomfortable speaking behind the marshal's back. “I wouldn't be here, but there is no one as close to Lucerne as you, Ark. I didn't know who else to go to. You need to stop him.”

“Stop what, Rafaelus? What has he done?”

“We discovered that Vestron Shipping was behind the weapons deliveries. To Castilla and Rykara as well as Nordlingen.”

“Vestron? The Vestrons are headquartered on Buchhara, aren't they?”

“Yes, but the company has been sold.” He paused. “To the Lancasters.”

The
Claw'
s crew had been watching silently, but now a ripple of murmurs swept through them.

“Are you saying that the Lancasters are working with the governor? With the empire?” Blackhawk's tone was one of disbelief. “That is hard to believe. I know Danellan Lancaster would sell his grandmother for a trading concession, but it never entered my mind he had the guts for a play like this.”

“We seized a Vestron convoy entering this system. The ships were stuffed with imperial weapons. And there was other evidence. Records in their computer systems that suggested the Lancasters had effective control of the company even before the acquisition closed. During the time period of all the deliveries.”

Blackhawk took a deep breath.

“I still find it hard to believe. Danellan Lancaster is an ambitious—no, a
greedy
—man, but it is quite a leap to sell out all of the Far Stars and become the greatest traitor in five centuries. How could he even trust the governor's word, regardless of what he was promised? He's a fool, but not a complete imbecile. And I can't imagine him having the courage to cross Lucerne.”