The Lost Stars 01-Tarnished Knight (34 page)

“Too many!” one of Gaiene’s soldiers cried, the signal cutting off abruptly on the last word as fire ripped into her.

Reinforcements entered the dock from three locations, one group led by Drakon. They could see the force of snakes and loyalist soldiers moving toward the hull, their advance hindered by the stubborn defense from Gaiene’s original occupying force. Drakon’s force had come in from the side, giving them clean shots at the attackers. Leveling his weapon, Drakon sighted on a snake dashing forward, his shot hitting home moments before two others, the combined blows taking out the snake.

The other two reinforcing elements opened fire as well, putting the snakes and loyalist soldiers in a cross fire coming from three directions on top of the shots still pummeling them from the defenders of the hull.

A loyalist soldier jumped up to run, only to fall as the nearest snake pumped a shot into him. A second later, the snake died, too, as the loyalist soldiers turned on the ISS agents among them.

“Hold fire!” Drakon ordered as the last of the snakes on the dock died and the loyalist soldiers dropped their weapons, then stood with empty hands raised in surrender. For an instant of time, the fate of the loyalists balanced on the knife-edge of veteran soldiers fighting their own instincts and experience to kill without mercy.

But no more shots were fired. As Drakon took a deep breath and refocused on the situation elsewhere, he heard one of the loyalists broadcasting an appeal in a shaking voice. “You guys know us! We’ve fought together! Don’t scrap us!”

And the reply from one of Gaiene’s soldiers. “Frost out, brother. We don’t work for some CEO. We’re General Drakon’s troops. His orders are to accept surrender.”

“Drakon? Praise our ancestors! Hey, the snakes said they needed to reach two places inside that hull. We don’t know why. Here are the readouts.”

“Let’s check those locations,” a captain ordered some of her soldiers. “You two engineers, come with us in case something needs disarming.”

“General?” Colonel Gaiene’s voice came.

“Yeah.” Drakon finally relocated Gaiene on the map on his helmet display, seeing Gaiene leading a force down the passageway toward the primary control compartment. “They tried to get to the hull. Don’t know why yet. How are things on your end?”

“We’re about to knock on a door.”

Drakon called up direct video from Gaiene’s armor, seeing a soldier leveling a Ram tube at the reinforced hatch protecting the control compartment. The Ram fired, blowing the hatch completely off its mountings, and before the hatch had hit the deck Gaiene led a force through the hatchway into the main control compartment. Inside, screaming workers were trying to flee a half-dozen snakes in armor who were firing into them. “Try someone who can fight back!” Gaiene shouted as his first shot shattered the faceplate of one of the snakes.

The other snakes died in a flurry of fire, leaving a curious stillness around the soldiers. Through Gaiene’s armor, Drakon could hear the shuddering gasps and pained cries of the surviving civilian workers, who were watching the soldiers with dread. “Start first aid and get some medics in here fast,” Gaiene ordered his troops, then spoke to Drakon. “System operators. It looks like the snakes were going to kill them all, then try to blow the system controls. Totally pointless since we’ve already remotely seized command of those circuits. Just senseless, bloody slaughter.” Gaiene took a step to stand over one of the snakes lying lifeless on the deck, pointed his weapon at the head of the dead body, and fired another shot. “Bastards.”

Who would you be if you weren’t you?
Iceni’s question came back to Drakon then. Who would those snakes have been? In a different place and time, would they have still been willing to do such things? Was it because they had been taught that such actions were right? Or had the ISS sought out those who were always to be found among humanity in every place and time, the ones who for a cause or for no reason at all would kill the helpless without blinking? The answer didn’t matter just then. He and Gaiene had to deal with who the snakes were. “Good job, Colonel.”

The main control deck had been one of the last places to be reached where resistance could be expected. Elsewhere, the flood of soldiers continued to spread rapidly through the rest of the facility, but aside from an occasional isolated loyalist soldier who stood with empty hands raised in surrender, no more defenders were left. “How’s it look to you, Colonel Gaiene?”

“I’ve got teams checking a few last spots right now, General. But it looks like we’ve got this one put away.”

A few minutes later, Gaiene called again. “All secure,” he reported. “Odd that one force tried so hard to get to a hull that couldn’t have gotten under way without several months of work.”

“We should hear from the soldiers who went in to check on that real soon.” Drakon studied the lists of data being downloaded from Gaiene’s armor. “We took a few casualties.”

“It could have been far worse, General. It was for the defenders.” The elation and excitement was draining from Colonel Gaiene’s voice, replaced by weariness and gloom. “I have a report from those who are inside the hull. They’ve found the packages the snakes wanted so badly.”

Video popped up on one side of Drakon’s helmet display. “Two nukes,” an engineer reported. “Sealed behind false bulkheads. We severed the command links before they could be remotely detonated, so the only way the snakes could set them off was by getting to them.”

“They sure didn’t want anyone making off with this hull,” the captain who had led the searchers commented. “If they’d blown those, it would have also trashed this whole dock facility.”

“Get the nukes disarmed, disassembled, and removed,” Drakon ordered. Had news of what Iceni had accomplished at Kane already reached Taroa, resulting in an extra measure of security against someone’s stealing an uncompleted warship? Or did this just reflect snake paranoia of possible rebellion on the dock? He remembered the cooperation some of the prisoners had rendered and how they had turned on the snakes with them. “Colonel Gaiene, I want the loyalist soldiers who surrendered evaluated for candidates to come over to us. What I’m seeing shows that they’re all Syndicate troops as opposed to Taroan locals.”

“That matches my information,” Gaiene said. “Apparently, the snakes didn’t trust locals up here.”

“They don’t seem to have trusted the loyalist regulars all that much, either. With good cause.”

Gaiene’s smile mixed melancholy and satisfaction. “It couldn’t have happened to a nicer nest of reptiles. We’ll put the option of joining your forces to these soldiers and see what happens. I assume we want full screening of each and every one of those volunteers before we accept them?”

“You assume correctly. There have been way too many deep-cover snake agents showing up at Midway.”

“And the civilians?”

“We’ll screen them gradually. For now, I’ll keep the facility at lockdown for another hour, then relax it by stages. That should keep any civilians from doing anything dumb and any snake agents among them from doing anything until we’re ready to deal with it.”

Feeling exhausted but grateful that coming down off the adrenaline rush from an operation was eased by the need to concentrate on cleanup details, Drakon called the freighter. “Put me through to Senior Line Worker Mentasa.” There were risks involved in using Mentasa, but those were more than balanced by the advantages in having someone known and trusted by the workers here. Mentasa also had firsthand knowledge of which specialists were most needed to finish out the work on the battleship at Midway.

“Here, General Drakon,” Mentasa said, doing his best to stand in a military posture even though the cramped quarters on the freighter made that difficult, and even though his citizen-worker appearance made his attempts to look military seem a little silly.

“The facility has been taken. It’s still on lockdown, but I want you to get on the comm system. I’m sending you an authorization so the blocks we put on it will let you through. Start talking to people you know. Tell them who we are, reassure them that they are safe, tell them what we want, find out what they’ve been building in the main construction dock, and see if anyone is interested in being hired to work at Midway. I also want to know everything you can find out about the hull in the main construction dock. Battleship or battle cruiser, how far along, how long it will take to finish, and whether Taroa has everything needed to complete it.”

“Yes, General.” Mentasa hesitated. “General, is it permissible to contact anyone on the planet?”

“Personal business or business?” Drakon asked, already knowing the answer by the look in Mentasa’s eyes.

“Both. If that’s—”

“It’s fine.
After
you talk to the citizens up here and get me that information on the hull that’s under construction, feel free to talk to citizens down on the planet. Let your people know that you’re all right. By the time you talk to them, I’ll have let the Free Taroans know why we’re here.”

Drakon took a few moments to check out his appearance, trying to look impressive but not too intimidating. The Free Taroans had open comm links, of course, broadcasting their propaganda and seeking recruits. Drakon’s comm software easily hijacked one of the those circuits. “This is General Drakon of the Midway Independent Star System. My soldiers now control the primary orbiting dockyard in this star system. We have come here to assist the Free Taroans. The leaders of the Free Taroans are to contact me as soon as possible using this circuit.”

That ought to produce a quick reaction.

How the Free Taroans would react to this unasked-for help had been the biggest variable in the planning. If the Free Taroans balked, if they were more afraid of Drakon’s aid than they were eager to win, then things might get a bit complicated when he insisted on holding on to the docks.

He would have to wait and see. There were some things that couldn’t be solved with soldiers.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

THE
response from the Free Taroans took about half an hour, about what he had expected from a group that seemed to think voting on everything was the way to do business.

He recognized the woman who answered, but in that haven’t-I-seen-her-before way rather than precise identification.

She saluted him. “Sub-CEO Kamara. I once served in a force under your command, General Drakon.”

Kamara? Now he remembered. Not the finest sub-CEO that he had ever worked with, but far from the worst. She had been good enough to impress herself on his memory. “You’ve joined the Free Taroans?”

“Yes. A number of the Syndicate troops did. We’re tired of being slaves.” She said that pointedly, eyeing Drakon as if it were a challenge.

“I’m not interested in becoming anyone’s new master,” he assured Kamara. “I brought forces to help the Free Taroans win here.”

“That comes as a great surprise to us. Naturally, we’re worried about other surprises. What is expected in exchange for your aid?”

Drakon smiled grimly. “What we get from the deal is simple. We win when you win. Midway doesn’t want the snakes to achieve victory here. I shouldn’t have to explain why. What we’ve heard of the third faction here makes it sound like they would be as bad as the snakes as far as we’re concerned. Taroa is our neighboring star system. We’d like it controlled by someone we can work with.”

“That’s it?” Kamara’s skepticism was clear.

“There are no preconditions though we’ll be interested in negotiating agreements once the Free Taroans are in power.”

“What about the docks?” Kamara pressed.

Drakon shrugged in a show of disinterest. He didn’t want to get into his and Iceni’s intentions for the docks until after the Free Taroans had committed themselves. “We’re also here to recruit workers. Shipyard workers, specialists, that kind of thing. No draft. No slave labor. Hiring. If someone wants to come back with us on those terms, I don’t want the Free Taroans telling them they can’t.”

Kamara didn’t answer for a while. “Of all the CEOs I worked with,” she finally said, “you were the only one who actually put himself on the line for his workers. Even though my common sense is telling me that you’re only doing this because it’s part of some scheme to control us, I don’t think we can afford to turn down this opportunity. Nor can we prevent citizens who want to accept your offer of employment from taking that offer as long as it is actually a free decision on their part. But I don’t have any final say. I’ll discuss it with the interim congress, and we’ll let you know our decision. How many troops do you have here?”

“Right now I have about half of one brigade.”

“Only half of a brigade? That’s not much, but it might be enough—” Her eyes shifted to one side. “We just spotted a force arriving at the jump point from Midway.”

“Right,” Drakon agreed, pleased that the others had finally shown up. “A heavy cruiser, three light cruisers, four Hunter-Killers, and five modified freighters carrying another two and a half brigades of troops.”

Kamara watched him, tension back in her posture. “That’s a substantial force. Enough to give anyone the edge here. I assume that if the Free Taroans don’t agree to accept your aid, you’ll offer it elsewhere?”

Drakon shook his head. “No. I told you. The Free Taroans are the only group here that we’re interested in helping.”

“And if we win with your help? How many of those soldiers stay?”

“On your planet? None of them.” This dock, on the other hand . . . “We need them back at Midway when they’re done here.”

Another pause, then Kamara made a helpless gesture. “We probably have no choice but to believe you. Are we allowed to speak with anyone up there? Any of the citizens?”

“Sure. Why not? The snakes managed to kill a few of the workers here before we got them all, but everyone else is safe. I’ve had the place locked down while we ensured everything was secure, but I’ve started lifting that. I’ll lift the comm restrictions, too.”

“I will talk to the congress,” Kamara said, but this time her tones carried more conviction.

* * *

LONG
ago, a large staff might have been required to plan and coordinate the movements of almost three brigades of soldiers from the orbital facility to the planet’s surface. But that kind of housekeeping work was what automated systems excelled at since the variables were few. Plug in current force data listing troops and equipment, shuttles and freighters, and the locations of all those, then let the software produce a detailed solution, issue the necessary instructions, and monitor progress. Malin and Morgan could easily keep an eye on everything to see if glitches developed and still have plenty of time to assist Drakon with other planning that was made much more complex by unpredictable human behavior.

The headquarters of the Free Taroans had once been that of the Syndicate Worlds planetary forces, so it was well fitted out, though much of the equipment was older than that at the facilities on Midway since Taroa didn’t have the strategic importance or the priorities for upgrades that provided.

Drakon looked at a map floating above the table in the main command center. The virtual globe slowly rotating beside it allowed someone to choose an area to zoom in on and change the area shown on the map, but it was set to show most of the occupied southern continent. Taroa’s northern continent was big, but so high in latitude that it consisted of frozen desert plains and glacier-choked mountains. Aside from a few research and rescue stations with only a small number of occupants, no one lived there.

The populace so far had stayed on the much more pleasant southern continent, which straddled the planet’s equator. At some point in the not-too-distant past as measured by the life of worlds, something had ripped the planet’s surface there, causing masses of lava to boil up and form that new continent. Life had recovered from what must have been a catastrophic event by the time humans arrived to find a continent filled with knife-edged volcanic mountains and hills that separated lushly forested valleys.

“Screwed-up place to fight a war,” Morgan commented. “You take one little valley, and there’s a natural wall protecting the next.”

Sub-CEO Kamara nodded. “That’s one of the things that has kept us stalemated. It’s very easy to defend the ground on this planet. The airlift available to us and the other groups got knocked out early, so we couldn’t leapfrog over the ridges. A lot of the slopes between valleys are too steep even for armor to get up them, so it’s foot soldiers slugging it out meter by meter, up one ridge and down the next. It doesn’t take many ridges before you run out of foot soldiers.”

Morgan gave Kamara a disdainful glance. “How many soldiers did you lose learning that?”

Kamara returned the look. “Us? Very few on offensive operations. It’s the loyalists that have gotten chopped up trying to reestablish control over the areas that belong to us, and the Workers Universal, which sent some human waves up the ridges before we killed so many they ran low on wave material.”

“You’ve played it smart,” Malin said.

“I don’t know if it’s smart. I convinced the interim congress to hold off on attacks since we seemed more likely to win by waiting out the loyalists and the workers. But I’ve been under increasing pressure to stage some offensive operations because everyone has been worried about a Syndicate Worlds’ relief force showing up to reinforce the loyalists and pound us flat.” Kamara shook her head, sighing. “I knew I was just buying time. We couldn’t win, and we’d keep getting weaker relative to the loyalists.”

“You did the right thing,” Drakon said. “Maybe you couldn’t have won, but you damn well could have lost a lot faster if you’d bled your forces dry in futile attacks. The Syndicate Worlds government is busy in a lot of places and doesn’t have nearly as much strength to deal with rebellions as it would like. Taroa would be pretty low on their priority list unless they happened to have someone out this way for another reason.” A reason such as recapturing the Midway Star System, but there wasn’t any need to bring that up. “Something else could have happened to even the odds for you. And it did.”

“That was my thinking,” Sub-CEO Kamara said, looking pleased at Drakon’s words. “It’s been a progressively more lonely position to hold, though. So many people want instant results, without thinking about the chances of success or the costs.” She turned to the map, pointing out red splotches in some of the valleys where towns and small cities could be found, usually where those valleys let out on the coastline to allow easier access by water. “The main loyalist strongholds are in these areas.”

“Why hasn’t anyone tried assaults from the water?” Drakon asked. “Real narrow frontages, open fields of fire, jagged reefs just offshore, with thin channels dredged through them that make perfect kill zones, mines . . .” Sub-CEO Kamara shrugged, her bitter expression contrasting with the casual gesture. “It was tried a few times. I tried it, hoping the loyalists would be focused against ground attacks and overconfident about the effectiveness of defenses along the water. I was wrong. That’s where we took most of our losses.”

“Does CEO Rahmin still command the Syndicate loyalists?” Malin asked.

“She did until about two weeks ago. That’s when a suicide squad from the Workers Universal infiltrated the loyalists’ interim capital and blasted their way into her command center.” Kamara didn’t seem particularly upset at the loss of her former superior. “Now there’s a snake running the show over there. CEO Ukula.”

Morgan waved at the map. “If we take out the snakes, do the regular troops keep fighting?”

“That depends on whether they think they’ll die if they try to surrender.”

“Will they?” Drakon asked.

“Some units have committed serious atrocities. They’ll have trouble trying to surrender,” Kamara said as calmly as if she were talking about road conditions. “Others have been a lot better behaved.”

Morgan smiled. “We can split the loyalist soldiers, then. All it takes is contact with the units that will be allowed to surrender.”

“I can give you the identities of those units,” Kamara said. “Managing hidden contact with them may be—”

“No problem,” Morgan said, her smile still in place but now wolflike. “I can handle it.”

Kamara stared at her for a moment, then looked back at the map.

Malin was running his finger across scattered purple blotches on the map, all of them concentrated in urban areas. “This marks areas controlled by the Workers Universal?”

“Roughly.” Kamara’s expression shifted to disgust. “If we can roll up the snakes and turn everything on the Workers Universal, I think they’ll fold pretty quick because they’ve hollowed themselves out. Sure, the workers have gotten lousy deals. But the ones who went with the Workers Universal are a lot worse off now. I told you about the human waves the WUs sent against us. Some real nutcases have taken over there. Their opposition in the workers’ leadership was accused of treason, arrested and shot, or simply disappeared. These days, the ones left in charge are killing as many of their own workers in purges as we are in fighting them.”

“Cannibalization of the revolution once the most radical begin competing for purity,” Malin commented. “It’s happened countless times in the past. Right now, many of those in this star system seeking stability are drawn to the loyalists as protection against the Free Taroans and the Workers Universal. But if the loyalists are defeated, then the choice for such people will be between—”

“Freedom and homicidal nutcases,” Kamara finished. “I figure we’ll look pretty good at that point to anyone wanting to choose sides.” She glanced at Drakon. “The loyalists offered to conduct joint operations with us against the Workers, but I knew better than to bite that poison apple.”

Drakon smiled crookedly, inwardly pleased that Kamara had not tried to keep that offer secret from her new allies. He studied the map, zooming in to identify some good locations for surgical strikes. “Colonel Malin, please get Colonels Gaiene, Kai, and Senski. We have a snake hunt to plan.”

“We can’t afford to lose a lot of infrastructure,” Kamara said. “Neither can the loyalists, which is the only thing that has kept them from dropping rocks on us from orbit.”

Morgan blew out a derisive breath. “You want us to defeat the loyalists without breaking anything?”

Kamara met her eyes soberly, nodding. “That’s right. The loyalists are sitting on some of the most critical facilities on the surface. If all we inherit is ruins, then our victory would be as hollow as they come.”

“The snakes have been following scorched-earth tactics every time we’ve fought them,” Malin said. “Once they know defeat is inevitable, they try to take us with them.”

“Then we try to make sure the snakes don’t know they’re losing until it’s too late to do anything about it,” Drakon replied. “Colonel Morgan, get the identities of the units you want to undermine from Sub-CEO Kamara and get started on that. I want to know what units those are, too, so we can work our plans around them and hit the other units first.”

“How often do you want updates on what I’m doing?” Morgan asked.

“Let me know what I need to know when I need to know it. Otherwise, you’re free to run with it.”

She grinned. “No problem.”

Kamara cleared her throat. “You’ve left two companies occupying the orbital dockyards. We’d be happy to send some of our militia up there to maintain control and free up your troops.”

Drakon smiled at her.
I bet you’d be happy to gain control of those dockyards. Do you really think I’d just hand them over to you?
“With our warships protecting the dockyards, it’s better that they deal with our own people there if any threats develop.”

After a pause, Kamara nodded. “Certainly. I understand.”

At least, she understood that the Free Taroans were in no position to demand the dockyards.

* * *

COLONEL
Rogero walked alone back to his quarters after a coordination meeting with President Iceni’s representatives. Meetings with people in locations remote from each other were easy to hold, everyone gathering in a virtual meeting place, but just as easy to tap into and monitor despite every possible security precaution. For routine matters, that was accepted as a fact of life. The ISS, and possibly someone else, would be listening. For anything important, or anything that shouldn’t be overheard, it had become habit for people to choose actual meeting places at the last moment. Much more secure, but it could also lead to long walks as twilight darkened the sky and streets grew dim before the gloom deepened enough to trigger streetlights to life.