“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.”
“Leaving one of the nearest star systems controlled by the Syndicate government,” Iceni said. “That would not be to our advantage.”
“No,” Drakon agreed. “And the workers are unlikely to be much better from our point of view though they’ve got practically no chance of winning. That leaves the Free Taroans.”
“Yes. But it sounds like they want elections for every office. Living with that next door might be very difficult. Working with that might be very difficult.”
“Maybe. It might also give you and me a test population, a place to see what happens when the citizens rule themselves. I think what we need to focus on is that the Free Taroans are better than the alternatives.”
“True,” Iceni conceded. “Still, elections at those kinds of levels . . .”
Drakon settled back and smiled. “Elections? We’re old hands at elections, aren’t we, Madam President? You know what they can be like. Fraud, bribery, vote manipulation . . .”
Iceni returned his smile. “All of which we are veterans at.”
“And all of which, my assessments agree, those pure-minded Free Taroans will convince themselves could never happen in whatever system of elections they come up with.”
“Meaning we will have substantial influence on the Free Taroans?”
“Bought and paid for,” Drakon agreed. “It’s the Syndicate Way, isn’t it?”
“As much as I detest many things about the Syndicate Way, those particular methods may prove very useful. So, not a conquest?
“Absolutely not. An intervention, tipping the scales, not a conquest. If we try to impose our will on Taroa with what we have, it’ll turn into a quagmire that’ll suck this star system dry in no time. We’d be easy meat for the Syndicate Worlds when they came knocking at the hypernet gate demanding to be in control here again. For personal reasons, I’d rather that not happen.”
“I’m sure I wouldn’t enjoy that outcome, either.” Iceni sat back, her eyes hooded in thought. “I believe that I planted some seeds at Kane for what might grow into a formal relationship between our star systems. If we could achieve similar results at Taroa, establish the grounds for creating an alliance of sorts, it could reap very important longer-term benefits. Trade, defense, a bubble of stability and order amid the collapse of the Syndicate Worlds. Three star systems isn’t much, but it would be a start toward that, and it’s a lot more than one star system.”
Drakon nodded. “Humanity only started with one, and look where we’ve ended up.”
“I don’t aspire to that degree of success. However, intervening at Taroa will require a significant investment in ground forces and mobile forces. We need those assets here.”
“We do. We also needed them here when we heard about the battleship at Kane, but it made more sense to send just about every warship to Kane. Now it makes more sense to send some of those warships to Taroa.” He could see that Iceni was convinced yet still reluctant to commit the necessary forces, so Drakon played his last card. “There’s something else concerning Taroa’s shipyards. The last few ships that went through there reported that the main construction dock is completely concealed. They’re at the stage where components of something are being assembled into a hull.”
“Something?” Iceni murmured. “Something big if they need to use the main construction dock.”
“Something big,” Drakon agreed. “And I think we could use that something big more than whoever it’s being built for right now. Which would be the Syndicate government on Prime. If we get the docks, we get that hull.”
“We get the docks? That could be exceptionally useful.” Iceni nodded and gave him a searching look. “What would you require to gain control of those docks and ensure victory for the Free Taroans?”
“I’d want to bring three brigades,” Drakon said. “That will require requisitioning some of the civilian merchant ships here. And a decent-sized flotilla of warships to deal with any light mobile forces that might show up there to give us trouble. If there are no mobile forces waiting at Taroa, what we have with us will help overawe the opposition.”
“If you want to overawe, the battleship is the way to go, but it’s not even close to ready.”
“I wouldn’t want to come in with the battleship,” Drakon said. “It’s too big, too threatening. Showing up like that would make it look like a conquest before we said a word. I want to have time to explain that we’re there to assist our, uh, friends, the Free Taroans.”
Iceni nodded again. “In exchange for control of those docks and what is being built there. All right. Three brigades. All of your soldiers, leaving me with the local troops.”
“The locals could handle anything that came up,” Drakon said, choosing his words carefully. “But what I intended was to bring two of my brigades and one of the local brigades. That would leave one brigade of absolutely reliable soldiers here.”
“Absolutely reliable?” Iceni asked, smiling thinly. “Just in case someone tried something while you were out of this star system?”
He hadn’t wanted to put it that bluntly. “If you want to think of that brigade as my insurance against you, then fine. You decided to leave that heavy cruiser here to watch me while you were gone. But that’s far from the only reason to leave that brigade here. You know as well as I do that the locals aren’t one hundred percent to be counted on.”
“But you want to take a brigade of them on this mission?”
Was she subtly taunting him? Or probing for his justifications? Drakon made an open-handed gesture. “My own soldiers can stiffen the locals if necessary, and the locals should be able to handle anything we find at Taroa.”
“So we’ll
both
feel safer if you leave one of your brigades here?”
“That’s right.”
“How thoughtful of you, General.” Iceni rested her chin on one fist as she regarded him. “Which brigade? Which colonel?”
“Colonel Rogero’s brigade.”
“Colonel Rogero? Again? Is Colonel Rogero particularly fond of me?”
Drakon laughed briefly. “I don’t know his personal feelings about you. I do know he can be trusted here.” Gaiene, for all his skills and loyalty, if left alone for an extended period was likely to be shot by an enraged husband or furious father, and Gaiene might well be drunk when the bullet hit if he wasn’t worried about Drakon showing up to check on him. Kai wouldn’t run out of control, in fact seemed to have no vices at all or any other interests outside of his job, but was too rigid, not flexible enough to react quickly if something unexpected occurred and Drakon wasn’t around to give new instructions. “Colonel Rogero also got to lead the force that went to Kane with you. Colonels Gaiene and Kai deserve a chance at action, too.”
“And which local brigade?”
“The One Thousand Fifteenth. Colonel Senski’s command.”
“Colonel Senski. Hmmm.” She didn’t seem convinced, but Iceni finally nodded a final time. “You will also be taking your two aides?”
“Colonels Malin and Morgan? Yes.”
“Then I agree to your proposal. How long will it take before you are ready to go?”
“Normally,” Drakon began, “it takes a while to set up a movement of this size, but—”
“But you started preparing well before I got back, anticipating that I would agree to the mission,” Iceni finished. She said it not as if guessing, but as if she had known that coming into the meeting.
Either Iceni was trying to rattle him by pretending to know good intelligence, or she really had some very good inside information on Drakon’s troops. The best reaction at the moment was probably no particular reaction. He smiled at her as if her foreknowledge was not an issue at all. “That’s correct.”
Iceni smiled back. “I’ll consult with Kommodor Marphissa on the size of the flotilla to accompany you. We will have to resupply those warships, and that will take a while. I’d estimate at least a week for them to get back here and prepare to go out again. I won’t mislead you as to my intentions. I will want to hold back enough warships to protect this star system and my battleship while it’s being fitted out, but I’m sure whatever we send with you will include at least one heavy cruiser.”
Drakon gave her an inquiring look. “
Your
battleship?”
“Did I say that?
Our
battleship, of course.”
“And I understand it has a name now.” Why not flaunt his own information gathering?
“The
Midway
. Yes.”
He had expected her to take the obvious course and name it after herself, which would have been a clear sign of ambition and ego. The fact that she had chosen something else reassured Drakon considerably. “Are you going to name the other warships, too?”
Iceni smiled again. “I already have. The implementing order is going out today. The heavy cruisers will be the
Manticore
, the
Gryphon
, the
Basilisk
, and the
Kraken
. The light cruisers will be named
Falcon
,
Osprey
,
Hawk
,
Harrier
,
Kite
, and
Eagle
. The Hunter-Killers will be
Sentry
,
Sentinel
,
Scout
,
Defender
,
Guardian
,
Pathfinder
,
Protector
,
Patrol
,
Guide
,
Vanguard
,
Picket
, and
Watch
.”
“Really? Those are pretty good.”
“I’m glad that I surprised you in that respect, General. Obviously, I cannot accompany you on this mission, so command of the mobile forces will be given to Kommodor Marphissa.”
Drakon nodded. “I’ve heard that she’s capable.”
“She is. She also has an unfortunate tendency to speak her mind. I hope that you can work with that.”
“I’ve got some experience with subordinates like that,” Drakon said dryly, thinking of Malin and Morgan. “They can be the best kind of subordinates if they know what they’re talking about, and if you’re lucky.”
Iceni gave him a surprised look. “Yes, General. They can indeed.” She paused for a long moment before speaking again. “Will you tell me something?”
“That depends what it is.”
“When you were facing the flotilla commanded by CEO Gathos, why didn’t you betray me to save yourself? You could have claimed that you had just played along with me in order to get me to expose myself. It might not have saved you, but it would have given you some chance.”
Drakon looked back at her for a while before replying. “If you want the truth, and if you want to believe that it’s the truth, that never occurred to me.” It had never occurred to Malin or Morgan, either. Or if either of them had thought of it, neither had brought it up. Why not? Malin should have seen the possibility, and that kind of opportunity was the sort of thing Morgan usually thought of first. Why had neither of them suggested turning on Iceni to at least buy some time?
“It didn’t occur to you?” Iceni sat watching him. “I know a lot about you, but I don’t really know you, General Drakon. Trying to predict what you’re going to do next can be difficult.”
“I have the same problem with myself at times,” Drakon said.
“Do you? I know what you
should
do in any given situation, based on what we’ve been taught and our experiences, but I don’t always know what you
will
do.”
He shrugged, surprised that she was openly discussing such things. “There are a lot of situations where being a bit unpredictable can be an advantage.”
“Of course,” Iceni agreed. “But . . .” She studied him again. “Do you intentionally do it as a tactic, or is it part of you? Something you would do even if it didn’t bring you an advantage?”
His own defenses were automatically rising, trying to keep him from betraying too much of what he thought. Drakon shrugged again. “Why would a CEO do something that didn’t bring an advantage?”
“That’s a good question. Yet here you are. You were exiled to Midway, and unlike me, who got sent here for bad luck as much as anything, you were sent here for doing something that had no possibility of benefiting you personally.”
Drakon met her eyes. “That depends what you consider a benefit. I did what I considered to be the . . . correct thing.”
“As opposed to the right thing?”
“The right thing? You mean like morally right? Nobody does that.”
“Nobody admits to it,” Iceni corrected him. “We know what the Syndicate Worlds looks like on the outside, and how a lot of it really works on the inside. And we know how the people around us look on the outside, but not what’s really inside because we all learn to hide that.”
“Yes.” Despite his wariness, Drakon felt his internal barriers lowering. What she was saying matched his own thoughts, the sort of thing you couldn’t discuss because you never knew who might use it against you. “I don’t know you, either. I don’t know who you are inside. I didn’t know that you thought about stuff like that.”