The Lost Stars (21 page)

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Authors: Jack Campbell

BOOK: The Lost Stars
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“She is talented and has a great deal of potential,” Bradamont said without hesitation. “Due to her rapid rise in rank, she has some experience to gain, but I have no doubt she will pick that up quickly.”

“I understand that you witnessed the removal from command of Kapitan Toirac,” Iceni continued.

“I
did.”

“What was your impression of Kapitan Toirac?”

This time Bradamont did pause before speaking, each word coming out with thought behind it. “Promoted well above his level of competence. Unable to handle the responsibilities. Unwilling to address his weak areas. Now so embittered that I would not trust him in any position of authority.”

“I see.” Iceni halted, causing the rest of them to stop walking as well, and studied Bradamont. “Did you discuss the matter with Kommodor Marphissa?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“And Kapitan-Leytenant Kontos? What did you think of
him?”

Bradamont smiled slightly. “He is impressive. He has a lot to learn, but I have no doubt he will pick everything up fast. He's the closest thing to a natural I've ever
met.”

“A natural?” Iceni asked.

Drakon answered. “Someone with an instinctive grasp for the right thing to do and how to do it. That was Colonel Rogero's impression of Kontos as well.”

Bradamont kept her expression controlled but her eyes went to Drakon as he said Rogero's name.

Iceni noticed that as well, raising an eyebrow at Drakon. “I will leave you here, Captain Bradamont. General Drakon and I are traveling by separate shuttles for security reasons. I have in hand a proposal from Kommodor Marphissa for a very hazardous mission. I want to talk to you about that soon. General, you will have to be at that meeting as well. The proposed mission will require some ground forces as security.”

“Yes,” Bradamont said. “I do want to talk about that as soon as possible. But I don't think it can be done now that the Syndic hypernet is gone.”

“You didn't hear? A freighter arrived via hypernet a few hours ago. Everything is working again.”

Bradamont stared at Iceni. “You— The Syndicate Worlds can do that? Selectively shut off your hypernet?”

“The Syndicate apparently can do it,” Drakon said. “But we can't.” Iceni turned a reproachful look on him. He knew why and answered her unspoken rebuke. “Captain Bradamont needs to know that. She needs to tell the Alliance we still have a hypernet gate that is of great value to them and that
we
did not block Black Jack's fleet from reaching other destinations.”

Iceni thought about it for all of two seconds, then nodded. “You're right, General. The arrival of that freighter came as a great shock to us, Captain Bradamont.”

“I do need to get word of that back home as fast as I can,” Bradamont agreed. “Before you go, Madam President, I should deliver these to you and General Drakon.” She put a hand into one pocket, apparently oblivious to the way the remaining bodyguards focused intently on her motion, and brought out two data coins. “From Admiral Geary. These are reports on what we found in enigma space, Kick space, and Dancer space, as well as what information we have on each species.”

Drakon took one of the discs. “These are identical?”

“The discs? Yes, sir. One for each of
you.”

“How diplomatic,” Iceni commented, taking hers. “Are there any surprises on here?”

“I don't know,” Bradamont replied. “I know Admiral Geary already told you some things. He said to me that you are on the front lines of humanity's contact with these species and therefore need to know as much as possible about them.”

“A pity he did not allow some of our technicians to board the captured alien superbattleship,” Iceni said pointedly.

Bradamont made an apologetic gesture with one hand. “Even our own techs haven't been allowed on board. There's a security force on
Invincible
, but we don't dare touch anything until we get her back to Alliance space.”

Drakon had to admit that the explanation made sense, but it was the same sort of excuse he would have offered to anyone who wanted to stick their nose in somewhere he didn't want them to go.
At least Black Jack is being polite when he tells us to go to hell.
“Let me know about that meeting,” Drakon told Iceni, then led Bradamont into his shuttle.

The guard at the entry ramp was doing her best not to stare at Bradamont, as was the shuttle pilot waiting inside. Drakon gestured for Bradamont to enter, then followed her into the passenger compartment, seating himself next to Bradamont.

As the hatch sealed, she took a sudden breath. Glancing down, Drakon saw one hand tightly gripping her armrest.
The last time she was locked in with someone like me she really was locked in. A prisoner. Now she's back around the same kind of people, having put herself totally at our mercy.
“Do you know what snakes are?” he asked.

Bradamont nodded. “Both the reptile kind and the human variety.”

“The human-variety snakes were almost completely eliminated in this star system. We're hunting a few hidden remnants.”

“Colonel Rogero told me.” She nodded again, still tense. “I hope you understand there is a difference between knowing that and accepting
it.”

“I do,” Drakon admitted. “I still have trouble with that myself. But it is in our best interests to treat you right, Captain Bradamont, and I intend making sure you are treated right.”

Bradamont looked right at him. “No escorts for us on this shuttle?”

“You're a guest. Why would we need guards?” Drakon studied her as the shuttle undocked and began the transit and descent to the planet below. “Colonel Rogero has worked directly for me for some years. He's one of the best officers I've ever
had.”

She met his eyes. “And?”

“If you're wondering why he wasn't the one who met you, it's because I wanted to size you up in person. You almost got him killed, you know.”

“Yes. I know.”

“But he was an equal partner in that,” Drakon continued. “All I care about is whether we can work with an Alliance officer. From what I've heard, you did all right on
Manticore
.”

“I was mostly an observer, there for the legal niceties,” Bradamont said.

“I recognize some of those ribbons you're wearing, Captain. You didn't earn them observing things.” He pointed to one, with red, green, and silver bands. “I know that one. It's for Ajatar, right?”

“Yes, sir. How did you know?”

“One of those intelligence summaries,” Drakon explained. “I didn't really need to know what all the Alliance ribbons and badges stood for, but that one caught my eye because I was at Ajatar. On the ground.”

Her eyes met his again. “Ground forces? The second planet.”

“Yeah. We got our butts kicked pretty
bad.”

She shook her head. “Our ground forces people were saying afterward that they couldn't believe you held out until a Syndic flotilla arrived that was strong enough to drive us out of the star system.”

Drakon shrugged, looking away as memories flooded into his mind. “It wasn't easy. There weren't a lot of us left by then. I was a . . . you'd call the rank major, I guess. I arrived on the planet with a battalion. When we finally got relieved I had about a platoon's worth still alive.”

“It was bad in space, too. I was just an ensign on a heavy cruiser. The
Sallet
. We got shot to pieces. About forty of us made it off in escape pods before the power core blew.”

“Damn. Funny you were on one of the ships dropping rocks on my head. Small galaxy, isn't it?” Drakon sighed, then shrugged again. “I'm glad it's over.”

“Is
it?”

“Nah. We're all still fighting, aren't we? The enemies have just changed. But I like to pretend.”

“That can be a bad habit in senior officers,” Bradamont observed.

The blunt observation could have upset him with its borderline insubordination, but instead Drakon found himself smiling wryly. “A very bad habit, especially when planning operations. I think I'm beginning to see what Colonel Rogero sees in you and why Black Jack picked you for this assignment.”

“Will I be . . . General, this is a purely personal question. Will I be allowed to see Colonel Rogero?”

“Allowed? You'll be required to see him. He's going to be your official handler though he'll retain his primary job as one of my brigade commanders.”

Bradamont swallowed, eyes wide. “Thank you, General.”

“I did it for him,” Drakon said, feeling uncomfortable at her obvious gratitude. “You'll have some guards assigned to you, but they'll respect your privacy. Remember what President Iceni said. Anything you say in public or on a comm line will probably be overheard.”

“I thought the snakes were gone,” Bradamont said.

“Most of them. We're certain there is at least one snake operative hidden among the citizens or the military. But snakes aren't the only ones who tap into conversations. You know how that
is.”

Her gaze back at him was perplexed. Clearly, this Alliance officer didn't know how it was. “General, are you talking about official or unofficial snoops?”

“Both. Internal politics and competition for promotions can get really hardball.” She had to understand that aspect of things.

“Hardball,” Bradamont repeated. “You mean politicking?”

“No, I mean blackmail, spying, and assassinations.”

She stared back at him. “I'm waiting for you to say
just kidding
.”

“That doesn't happen in the Alliance?” Drakon asked.

“No. I mean, in rare cases. But it is rare.” Bradamont looked down, her expression concerned. “Some of the things Colonel Rogero said to me. I assumed I'd misinterpreted them.”

“You didn't.” Drakon gave her his sternest look. “You need to know how things work here. How things
have
worked because I always hated that junk and will do my best to stamp it out. There's a reason why officers always carry sidearms, and it's not because we expect an Alliance invasion at any second. There's a reason why I often have bodyguards around me. I'm going to do my best to keep you alive, and I'm sure that Colonel Rogero will do the same. But you need to know what's going on so you'll stay alert for trouble.”

“I . . . will do that, General.” She looked up at the large display mounted on the front of the passenger compartment. It was now displaying a single external view of the planet below them as the shuttle dropped ever lower. “It's beautiful.”

“I've seen a lot worse planets,” Drakon agreed. “Are you going to be all right, Captain?”

She switched her gaze, and he saw an Alliance battle cruiser commander looking back at him. Tough. Smart. Not just competent, but skilled. “I'll be all right, General.”

He had wondered what could have led Rogero to fall in love with an enemy prisoner of war. Having finally met her, he found that Rogero's fall wasn't all that surprising. “We'll land next to my headquarters complex. Colonel Rogero is standing by there. He doesn't know why, by the
way.”

“He'll have seen the news reports—”

“No, he won't. As far as Colonel Rogero knows, you left with Black Jack's fleet.”

She smiled. “You're an evil man, General.”

“Most people who have said that really mean it, you know.”

“I doubt that. General, may I make a request?”

COLONEL
Rogero tried not to look as aggravated as he felt. It was not by any means the first time he had been pulled away from his unit on vague orders from General Drakon. It also wasn't the first time he had been escorted to a secure conference room in the main command complex to await the General and a briefing on orders too sensitive to be passed on by any other means.

But he had been sitting here for hours, alone in a conference room that was not just secure but also sealed. He hadn't been able to access any comm lines, hadn't been able to check on alerts or current events or anything else outside the four walls confining him.
I wanted to see the former enigma prisoners arrive. There were rumors that the General would be at the main orbiting facility for that. Why am I a virtual prisoner in here when there is so much going on outside?

It wasn't just the former prisoners coming in, though their arrival could arouse a wave of rumors and even instability among the citizens. There were still snakes hidden out there, and he couldn't hunt for them while confined in a room that didn't even allow him to call
out.

Is my own loyalty suspected? Colonel Morgan has been acting guarded around me for a while, but Colonel Malin knows me well enough to know I would not betray General Drakon. But, if knowledge of my ties with the snakes has become more widely known . . .

Rogero looked toward the door with a sinking feeling.
Protective custody? Is that what this is? To keep my own troops from murdering me as a snake agent? Surely Drakon would tell them the truth, that I misled the snakes and protected the General. But would they listen?

He saw the door latch move, then the portal swung open. General Drakon himself, looking unconcerned. “I'm sorry you've been kept on ice for a while, Donal. There was something I needed to take care
of.”

“General,” Rogero said, rising from his seat a bit faster than he usually would have, “is there anything—”

Drakon waved a dismissive hand. “You're all right. I brought you here to tell you that you're getting another collateral duty.”

“Another collateral duty?” That wasn't welcome news. Extra jobs on the side tended to take an inordinate amount of time away from your primary job. But compared to his earlier worries, it was a very small inconvenience. “What is
it?”

“I'll show you. Come
on.”

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