The Lost Stars: Tarnished Knight

“Morgan would be mistaken,” Malin insisted. “Someone like Kamara could make all the difference in the formation of a strong, stable government here. I didn’t see any other players in there with her level of authority, and to the citizens here, she is the hero who defeated the loyalists. Get rid of Kamara, and there’s no one to step into the void. The Free Taroans want a government with elections from top to bottom, General. They might just elect Kamara on their own if she’s around to be a candidate.”

“If they do that, and if Kamara proves to be what we need, then fine. If the Taroans work out an elected government, we might learn a few things from them. If it doesn’t work, then we’ll still learn a few things and have a cautionary example for anyone pushing for that kind of thing in our star system.” Drakon studied Malin. “Speaking of which, you seem to have given that a lot of thought, Colonel Malin. And you seem to know a lot more about different forms of government than the Syndicate liked people knowing.”

Malin nodded with a serious expression. “Everyone requires a hobby, General.”

An evasive answer, one that revealed nothing. But clearly Malin wasn’t going to say more unless pressed hard, and Drakon couldn’t believe that Malin would betray him. “You picked a strange hobby. And a dangerous one. Just get enough agents in our pay on this planet, and get those agents working to make happen what we want to happen.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll be leaving here within the hour. There’s some work in that respect that needs to be personally carried out in another city.” Malin saluted and rushed off. Drakon had no doubt that by the time they left this star system, there would be a widespread and effective system of covert agents working to accomplish his and Iceni’s goals.

It should have pleased him. Everything was working out. But Drakon felt dissatisfied. The Free Taroans had been extremely aggravating, outwardly thankful and yet carefully avoiding actually offering anything in exchange for the aid they had received. They had even balked at the simple truth that the orbital docks, and the battleship being constructed there, were now the property of those who had taken them from the Syndicate government. Yet the Free Taroans had also been so enthusiastic and idealistic. They were fools, doomed to disappointment when their dreams collided with reality, but . . . it would be nice to have something to be enthusiastic about. It would be nice to have something to believe in besides maintaining power, keeping his skin in one piece, and foiling his enemies. How long had it been since he had felt either enthusiasm or idealism?

Though he had felt something with Iceni. She seemed to be looking for that, too, some bigger reason to be in charge, some purpose beyond survival.

Unfortunately, Iceni wasn’t here. She was light-years distant. Drakon looked around. Sentries stood here and there, watching for threats. He wasn’t alone, but he didn’t exactly have company either. Kai was half a continent away. Gaiene was probably already drunk and trying to see how many women he could get through in one night. Colonel Senski wasn’t sufficiently well-known to relax with. Malin was off setting up the spy network. And Drakon didn’t think he had the energy or patience to deal with Morgan’s idea of conversation tonight.

The Interim Congress of Free Taroa had shown its appreciation for him by giving him the living quarters of the former star-system CEO for the night. That had cost them nothing, of course. Drakon hadn’t been able to find out what had happened to that CEO. Everyone knew that the CEO had left for refuge with the ISS when the civil war broke out, but after that, the trail got hazy. The CEO might have caught a ride on one of the ships the snakes had managed to send out of the star system, but other reports claimed that the CEO had been executed for failure or treason or whatever grounds the snakes wanted to use and the body disposed of. Either way, there didn’t seem much chance of the CEO’s showing up again, and the living areas and offices had been gone over with a fine-toothed comb for surveillance devices and booby traps.

Drakon keyed in the access code and entered, looking around with amusement. The former CEO on Taroa had some luxurious tastes, especially considering that Taroa hadn’t been that wealthy a star system even before the civil war hit it hard. The former CEO must have engaged in some truly epic skimming of tax revenue to afford such a setup. The bedroom featured not just expensive art and sculptures, not just a full bar well stocked even with liquors from Alliance planets that had been available only through the black market for the last century, and not just a bed big enough for an entire squad of soldiers to have used without squeezing together, but also an actual fireplace in one corner, framed by an expansive marble mantel.