The Lost Stars: Tarnished Knight

The sick bay was far larger than it felt since the extensive wards and operating rooms were all divided at regular intervals by bulkheads intended to ensure that no single large compartment could be lost to damage or lose air pressure all at once. Like all battleships and battle cruisers, this ship was designed to deal with wounded from not just its own crew but the crews of any smaller escorts, ground forces, and anyone else.

At the moment, most of those half-equipped wards and rooms were silent and empty. The surviving members of the outfitting crew were almost all in a few wards, with just one representative of their teams remaining in each of the citadel locations. “Where is Sub-Executive Kontos?” Iceni asked Rogero when she saw him.

“He insisted on remaining on the bridge until properly relieved. The physician has been to see him, and I’ve made sure he’s got food and water.” Rogero gave her a questioning look. “Are you still sure that you want him?”

“Positive. Who’s the senior surviving crew member in here?”

“Probably this one.” Colonel Rogero led the way, his combat armor large and more menacing than usual in the environment of the sick bay, stopping at a bed holding a middle-aged man in a line worker’s uniform. “The food and water, and some meds your physician dealt out, have them all half-conscious right now.”

“I know how to wake him.” The man lay flat, breathing heavily, his eyes on the ceiling but dazed and out of focus. Iceni came to a stop right by the bed. “You,” she said, giving the single word an intonation that only CEOs used, making of it the shorthand question that every worker knew had to be answered quickly and accurately. Who are you, what is your job title, and what are you doing?

Reflexes drilled into the worker by a lifetime of experience jolted him into awareness. The eyes snapped into focus and went to her face. “Senior Line Worker Mentasa, systems integration, assigned to the outfitting crew for Mobile Unit B-78.” He struggled to sit up until Iceni reached out one hand and gently pushed him back.

“Rest,” Iceni said. “What can you tell me about what happened aboard this unit?”

The line worker blinked as if unable to order his thoughts and confused by Iceni’s actions, then nodded slowly. “We were working . . . our usual shifts. Our commander was . . . Sub-CEO Tanshivan. He was . . . what . . . supply ship. The supply ship. Priority delivery.” Mentasa blinked again. “The sub-CEO . . . went to meet it. We were in . . . in comms with him. Lots of people came out of the lock. Lots. Weapons. Sub-CEO yells ‘They’re here to kill us.’ Don’t know how he knew. Yelled it. ‘Seal citadels’ he ordered. And then . . . and then . . . he died. I mean . . . they shot. And . . . we lost comms.”

“You had no warning the snakes were coming? No reasons to think they might come?”

“No. Been . . . demonstar . . . demonstrations on the planet. Heard about that. Big rallies. Before the news feeds cut off. Not our business. Not sure what it was about. I never been here before. To Kane, I mean. A few days later . . . they came.”

“So you sealed the citadels?”

“Yes.” Line Worker Mentasa blinked back tears. “Not everybody inside. Just our shift. But . . . had to seal the citadels. Damned snakes . . . killed the rest. Then tried to get us to open up. Stupid. Killed their hostages. Stupid, damned snakes.”

Rogero was nodding. “Their plan counted on surprise. The warning provided by the sub-CEO before he died helped negate that, but the snakes rigidly followed the same plan, killing all members of the outfitting crew as they encountered them. Only when they realized that the citadels had been sealed and couldn’t be broken into with what they had did the snakes understand that they should have kept some hostages alive to force the ones in the citadels to open up.”

“Yes, sir,” Mentasa said, peering at Rogero. “Sorry we wouldn’t open for you. We knew the lady, the . . . the CEO would save us.”

Iceni shook her head, angry and not certain exactly why. “I’m not a CEO. I am President Iceni.”

“I’m sorry, Madam . . . President? I don’t know what a president is.”

“Better than a CEO,” Rogero replied.

“Uh, yes, sir. We saw the ship coming. The freighter. We had enough opticals working to see it come around the planet. We knew it had to have more snakes on it. And then you guys . . . you came around behind it and . . . and we knew the stars would save us—” Mentasa stopped speaking, his eyes widening in alarm.

Iceni smiled down at him. “Relax,” she repeated. “I’m not afraid of your beliefs, and the rules of the Syndicate Worlds no longer apply where I am in control. If you want to speak of things like that, you can.”

“Do you believe in the stars? In the ancestors?”

That was a question she had never expected to be asked, and it startled an honest reply out of her. “I don’t . . . Yes.”