Free The Lost Stars: Imperfect Sword by Jack Campbell Page B

It’s a deception inside a deception, using one deception to make outside observers believe that the real things they are seeing are also a deception.”
    “What will CEO Boucher do?” Marphissa wondered.
    A few minutes later, the answer became clear as the Syndicate flotilla veered down and thirty degrees to port. “They’re heading for the jump point for Kane,” Diaz said. “Why?
Midway
won’t be in position to block them from reaching the hypernet gate for nearly nine hours.”
    “Boucher is panicking,” Marphissa said, hearing the satisfaction in her voice. “Nothing has gone right for her, she’s getting hit again and again, nearly all of her escorts have been destroyed, and now her battleship is threatened. She’s bolting along the nearest path to safety.”
    Bradamont nodded. “I think you’re right. And it appears that CEO Boyens was accurate in saying that Boucher would have orders not to bombard this star system. Otherwise, she would probably be launching a vindictive bombardment right now. The Syndicate Worlds does want this star system back intact.”
    “They won’t get it, intact or otherwise,” Marphissa vowed.
    The life-support fans came back to life.
    “Damn,” Diaz said, looking around as if he didn’t believe what he was seeing and hearing. “We won. And we’re still alive.”
    “Yes,” Marphissa agreed. “Now get back down to engineering and make sure your senior specialists in their enthusiasm to conduct quick repairs don’t blow us up now that the battle is won.”
    —
    IT had been nerve-wracking watching the battle play out, light-hours distant, unable to intervene and knowing that whatever she saw had long since happened. President Iceni poured out two drinks and offered one to General Drakon. They were alone in her office. “We should drink a toast to another victory over the Syndicate, General.”
    “You have some disturbingly competent subordinates,” Drakon observed.
    “My warship commanders are good, aren’t they?” Iceni asked, raising her glass in triumph. “We will live another day, General.”
    “Does it worry you?” he asked, looking down at his own drink.
    “Their competence? No. Both Marphissa and Kontos are very loyal to me.”
    He made a sharp noise, halfway between a snort and a grunt. “Don’t assume that their loyalty will necessarily lead them to the actions you want them to do.”
    “Point taken,” Iceni said. “But let’s not talk about
your
subordinates unless you want me to handle that situation.”
    Drakon frowned at her. “Don’t touch Colonel Morgan. If anything is done to her, the child dies.”
    “The child is a ways from being born yet,” Iceni pointed out. “And the child was only conceived because Morgan deceived you.”
    “She’s still my daughter.” Drakon met Iceni’s eyes. “I’ve spent a lifetime at war, destroying things and killing people. In all my life, I’ve only had a part in creating one single thing. So, yes, the child matters to me.”
    Iceni sighed again, loud enough for Drakon to hear her frustration. “I can understand your feelings, but do you want
that
daughter to be born? She will also be Colonel Morgan’s daughter. What would a child of
hers
be like?”
    “I’ve thought about that,” Drakon said in a low voice.
    “Have you? Are you thinking about your little girl bringing you crayon drawings of unicorns playing with children under rainbows to hang on your walls? Because if that little girl is anything like her mother, she is more likely to be using her crayons to draw images of wolves tearing apart helpless travelers during thunderstorms. Have you really thought about what a child of Colonel Morgan’s would be like? How could you know?”
    He hesitated long enough for Gwen to worry, then shook his head and spoke as if bewildered. “I know what a child of hers would be like. I know her son.”
    “Her
son
? Morgan has a son?” She was torn between incredulity at the news and anger that her