Jack Campbell - Perilous Shield

He led her along the passageways of the freighter, nearly empty at this hour of ship’s time, to a hatch leading into a small compartment which from the smells still lingering inside had once been used to store potatoes and onions. One of Rogero’s soldiers maintained a lone watch over the equipment despite the unlikelihood of any messages coming in aimed at its parameters. “Are you going to send it in the clear?” Rogero asked Bradamont.

She held up a data coin. “This contains the necessary Alliance codes. Admiral Geary provided me with them in case I needed to send an encoded message through your channels.”

“Very well.” Rogero gestured to the comm operator. “Up and out.”

The operator stood, saluted, and left the compartment without a word.

“Your people don’t tend to ask questions,” Bradamont observed as she sat down at the comm station.

“The Syndicate hierarchy frowns on workers asking questions,” Rogero replied as he closed and locked the hatch. “For my soldiers, it’s a lesson learned over a lifetime and not easily broken.”

She looked at him for a moment, a brief smile showing. “You don’t seem to have learned that lesson.”

“No, and you saw what happened to me. I went from being ordered to labor-camp staff to being one step from becoming the occupant of a labor camp myself. If not for General Drakon, I would have probably died in one.”

“Me, too,” Bradamont said, her eyes back on the comm gear. “Until you told me, I never realized that he was the one who suggested to the snakes that our relationship could be used by them. If not for that, the snakes wouldn’t have leaked the information about my transfer to another labor camp to the Alliance, so I could be liberated.”

Rogero nodded. “He is a good man. He no longer believes he is a good man, but I believe it.”

Another short pause as Bradamont looked at him. “Why? Why does Drakon have such an opinion of himself?”

“He was a CEO. To reach the ranks of a CEO, to survive in such a system, requires doing things that would eat the soul of any person. I have met all too many CEOs who showed no signs of missing their souls. General Drakon somehow retained most of his.” Rogero tapped his chest. “But that means he also knows in his heart the wrongs he did.”

“Ignorance is bliss,” Bradamont muttered. “It was an ugly war. Has any war ever been anything but ugly? We all carry scars inside us from that.”

“It wasn’t just the war, Honore. It was the system. The Syndicate system. You ate others, or the system ate you.”

She nodded, not looking at him this time. “But you got rid of that way of doing things. You’re going to make a better way. If General Drakon and President Iceni don’t screw it up.” Bradamont sat back, running her hands through her hair. “It’s ready for the transmission. How do I look?”

“More beautiful than ever.”

Bradamont laughed. “It’s a good thing we’re alone in here.”

“And an unfortunate thing that we can’t stay alone in here long, and that it is so confining.”

“Maybe that’s a blessing in disguise. All right. Move over that way as far as you can. We want to be sure you don’t show in the image.”

Rogero scrunched over as far as he could, waiting.

Bradamont tapped a control, her eyes on the video pickup. “Admiral Timbale, this is Captain Honore Bradamont, formerly commanding officer of Dragon . Admiral Geary detached me from the fleet when it returned to Midway Star System and ordered me to serve as a liaison officer to the government and military there. Midway Star System is completely independent of the Syndicate Worlds. It has a stable government that is pursuing a more democratic course and has assisted nearby star systems in throwing off Syndicate Worlds’ authority. Their warships assisted our fleet in the most recent battle there against the enigmas. They need the personnel from the Reserve Flotilla to crew warships that are under construction to defend them against attempts by the Syndicate Worlds to reconquer the Midway Star System.

“Admiral Geary’s fleet is on its way back from Midway but was delayed by Syndic interference. I don’t know exactly what he has run into, but we have learned that the Syndics have a means for temporarily blocking use of their hypernet. That forced Admiral Geary to take his fleet to Sobek. He is doubtless proceeding homeward from there but may have run into Syndic opposition despite the peace agreement. The fleet took considerable combat damage fighting our way through enigma space, during combat with a second alien species, and when defeating a renewed enigma assault on Midway Star System. It is also burdened by the presence of a captured alien warship, which is being brought back to Alliance space, and six ships belonging to a third alien species, which seeks friendly relations with us.

“I can provide you with further information regarding Admiral Geary’s successful mission, but given the extreme sensitivity of the information and my assignment by him to duty at Midway, I do not want it known that I am back at Varandal. Fleet headquarters would surely negate my orders from Admiral Geary as a liaison officer, order me to report to them and provide them with all I know regardless of how Admiral Geary wants to present that information upon his return.

“I am, of course, subject to your orders here. But my interpretation of Admiral Geary’s orders to me is that I should do my utmost to ensure those prisoners of war are returned to Midway Star System, and thereafter continue to monitor the situation there and provide whatever reports I can back to Alliance authorities. I respectfully request that we undertake as soon as possible a transfer of all Syndic prisoners of war in this star system to the freighters under Colonel Rogero’s command.

“Captain Bradamont, out.”

Rogero waited until Bradamont had cut the connection before saying anything. “That ought to be a wide-awake call when he gets it.”

“Oh, yeah.”

Rogero eyed her a moment longer, wondering if he should ask the next question, but finally decided to do so. “Do you believe it? What you said about President Iceni and General Drakon.”

She returned his look. “What did I say? You mean that your government is stable and undertaking democratic reforms? As far as I can tell, it is.”

“What do you think of President Iceni?”

“Are you collecting intelligence on me for your boss, Colonel Rogero?” Bradamont asked. Her tone was light, but there was a real challenge in her eyes.

“No. I want to know what you think. I won’t tell anyone else.”

She paused, frowned, then looked at him. “I think she is one very tough bitch. And I mean that in a good way.”

“You can mean that in a good way?” Rogero asked. “So, you think she really will do things for the people?”

“Yeah, I do. Don’t get in her way. I think people who get in Iceni’s way regret it big-time.”

“What about her primary assistant? That man Togo.”

Bradamont shook her head. “He’s a cipher to me. I haven’t seen enough of him. Now, you answer something for me about your General’s two assistants.”

Rogero laughed. “What a pair, eh? But they are very, very good at what they do, Honore. Individually, each is impressive. Together, they give General Drakon the type of support that equals another brigade of troops, if not more.”

“Do they hate each other as much as it seems?”

“More,” Rogero said. “Morgan had been here a few years when Malin showed up. Instant, mutual hatred. Too much alike if you ask me.”

“Alike?” Bradamont questioned. “Those two?”

“Sure. They just handle things differently. Morgan would laugh while she put a bullet in you. But she would have what she thought a good reason to do it. Malin would, maybe, feel a little sorry when he killed you in cold blood for what he thought was a good reason. But you would be dead, either way. I think they both have big plans. Very different plans, but plans that place them at the center of things.”