The Lost Stars: Tarnished Knight

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.”

Iceni smiled in a self-mocking way. “I just spent a while traveling. You know what that’s like. All the books and movies you could ask for at your fingertips, but also a lot of time to think if you want to spend your time doing that. Especially in jump space. Nothing is happening outside, so inside you can . . . think.”

“What else did you think about?” he asked, and realized genuine interest had prompted the question.

“Have you ever wondered who you would be if you hadn’t grown up in the Syndicate Worlds?”

“You mean, if I’d been born on some Alliance planet?”

“Perhaps,” Iceni said. “Or perhaps somewhere else. Some star system far away, where they’ve never heard of the Alliance or the Syndicate Worlds or the war. Suppose you had grown up there? Who would you be?”

He could have laughed off the question, but Drakon thought about it. “You mean who would I be if I wasn’t me?”

“Not exactly.”

“Who would you be?” he asked her.