by Rachel Ford
It had been a long morning. He’d spent the last few weeks writing letters of condolences to the families of the dead. This week, he was finalizing his new crew roster. There were a lot of new names on that list – more than there were crew from his last command.
And this morning, he found out that there were two names he needed to strike yet. Lieutenant Kerel and Lieutenant Commander Dagir would not be under his command. Kerel was taking a disability discharge, and Dagir was resigning his commission. He’d stopped this morning to tell Elgin.
“I’m getting married, sir.”
Well, he’d have been blind and deaf to miss that one. Still, he’d pretended a bit of surprise. “Kerel?”
Dagir had smiled. “Yessir.”
“You don’t need to resign to get married, Commander.”
“No sir. But we’re going to start a family. I’m looking for work on the civilian-side. I…I don’t want to leave a widow, sir.”
Maybe he should have pressed further. Dagir was a damned fine officer. Kerel was a damned fine officer. And his crew would be the poorer for the loss of either, much less both.
But he didn’t press. Instead, he offered his congratulations, and an, “If you ever change your mind, I’d be happy to recommend you for a reinstatement of the commission.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Now, Elgin tried to clear his head. He didn’t need to give Mercer an opening. He tended to come out ahead in their verbal sparring matches, and he had no intention of losing ground now.
His comm buzzed, and a voice informed him, “Captain Mercer to see you, sir.”
“Send him through.”
A minute later, and Captain Mercer strolled into his office, smiling to himself. “Elgin.”
“Mercer.” They shook hands, and his visitor took a seat without being asked, throwing a glance around the still bare office. “So, how’s your new command treating you?”
Elgin settled into his own seat and shrugged. “She’s no Supernova. But I think we’ll get along.” It was true. The TS-Starchaser was a good ship, with specs on par to the Supernova’s. She was his command, but she wasn’t his ship; not yet, not the way the Supernova had been.
“And that leg? It healing up alright?”
“I think marathons are probably out of my immediate future,” Elgin conceded. “But otherwise, yeah.”
“Too bad,” Mercer said. “You could probably do with the exercise.”
Elgin frowned as no witty rejoinder sprang to mind. “What can I do for you today, Mercer?”
The other captain surveyed him. “Nothing to say in return? Well, that’s not like you, Elgin. Everything okay?”
Elgin’s frown deepened, though, this time, because of how transparent he apparently was. “Fine.” Then, he added, and he wasn’t sure why, “I lost two of my crew this morning. Dagir and Kerel. Resigning. To get married, of all things.”
Mercer laughed. “Well, good for them.”
“Maybe. But not the Starchaser.”
“You’ll survive.”
Elgin harrumphed. “Kerel, I understand. She lost an arm. That’d be enough to diminish anyone’s passion for the service. But Dagir? His career used to mean something to him.”
Mercer’s eyes twinkled. “Your opinion might change, you know, if you ever found a woman who could stand to put up with you.”
“Speaking from your own vast knowledge on the subject, I suppose.”
The other man laughed. “Oh, it’s different for me. I don’t have time for women.”
“Fortunate,” Elgin offered dryly. “For them.”
Mercer seemed to relax in direct proportion to the barbs launched his way, and now, smirking appreciatively, he changed the topic. “But enough about that. I hear you got your orders?”
“That’s right. We ship out oh-five-hundred tomorrow.” He added, “Which is why the last minute crew change bites.”
“I ship out then too.”
“Really?” Elgin frowned. “Where to?”
“Border watch. Sectors Charlie to Foxtrot.”
Elgin’s frown didn’t ease. “The Starchaser is on border watch too: Juliet to Oscar.”
For a moment, the two men sat in silence, studying one another. There was a look in Mercer’s eyes that Elgin couldn’t entirely place. It wasn’t suspicion, exactly. It wasn’t fear. But it carried elements of both.
“That…strike you as funny at all?”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. Just…Parliament sending the fleet’s best captain to the furthest reaches of imperial space.” Mercer shrugged nonchalantly. “And you, too.”
Elgin ignored the jest. “It did strike me as unusual that they’d be deploying the Starchaser so soon. And so far away.”
The other man nodded. “We’ve been fighting to get patrols set up for how long? And now, all of a sudden, they okay it – and not only okay it, but send our best starships? On patrol?”
The chasms on Elgin’s forehead deepened. “What are you saying?”
“What are you saying?”
“Nothing. What is there to say?”
Mercer considered for a long moment, then nodded. “Alright. Nothing, then.”
“You think something’s up?” Elgin pressed.
“Don’t you?”
“Dammit, Mercer, give me a straight answer, will you?”
“I don’t have answers, Elgin. Just…a feeling. They’re up to something.”
“Who?”
“Those ministers. Telari.”
“Why Telari?”
“The orders came from his office, didn’t they?”
“Yes, but he’s basically the next Supreme Leader.”
“The election is four months off yet.”
Elgin shrugged. “Sure. But we all know what’s going to happen.”
“Maybe.”
“But what do you think he’s up to? I mean, what could he be up to?”
Mercer shrugged now. “I don’t know. It may be nothing.”
“You’re getting paranoid in your old age, Mercer. I mean, this is what we’ve been asking for, right?”
“I just…since when has parliament listened to us?”
“You sure you’re not just sore because they gave us the shit work?”
The other man snorted, then nodded. “Maybe. Maybe. I just can’t shake the feeling…that’s something’s up.”
“Eh, it’s probably retaliation. You pissed them off one too many times, so they’re getting you out of their hair for a few months.”
Mercer smiled. “Could be. And what about you? You just ended the war. Why exile you to the borders?”
Elgin considered, then shrugged. “Not sure. Maybe to make sure I didn’t get any ideas about running. Not that – mind you – he had anything to worry about. Still, ending the war would be a pretty good bit of name recognition to run on.”
For a long moment, Mercer was silent. Then, he nodded. “That’s actually a good point. The sons-of-bitches. You probably could beat him, you know. I might even vote for you, if you ran.”
Elgin laughed. “I’d sooner fly myself back to Echo Nine, and let the rads get me. No, the good minister has nothing to worry about from me.”
“Too bad. You’d be a better supreme leader than him.”
“Hmm. Maybe. But, look on the bright side: you’d have to take orders from me then.”
“True,” Mercer conceded. “And I’d rather fly back to Echo Nine and face the rads, than that.”
Chapter Forty-Nine
Dr. Kel discharged Brek later that morning. “Try to stay out of firefights, Minister,” he smiled, “and you’ll be fine.”
“You sure, doc? It feels like I ran into a brick wall.”
“I’m sure. You’re going to be sore. Best to avoid any…” he glanced between the pair of them, arms wrapped around each other, “err, strenuous exercise for a few days. But you’ll be fine.”
Thus bringing a blush to both of their faces, he left the
m with one final bit of advice. “And for the love of the gods, stay out of trouble, you two. I don’t want to see either of you back here, you understand?”
He was in a lot of pain, and Nik stayed with him throughout. She was in pain, too, though of a different variety. And together, they took care of one another.
They skipped the sessions, and might have kept on skipping had not their friends visited. Giya was the first, followed shortly by Raylor. Soon, the procession of Nik’s allies and Brek’s friends were regulars, bringing them news from the chamber, and more food than they could eat in a week, much less each day.
“They’ve done for themselves now,” Giya said. “They thought they were getting you, Nik, but the whole thing’s blown up in their faces.”
“They wanted a long trial, to put Diven out there in front of the public eye. So people would forget it was you who led this revolution,” Raylor agreed.
“Instead, they blindsided you, and almost got you killed into the bargain. They did for themselves, not you. Gods, I wish you’d declare, Nik. You’d steamroll that son-of-a-bitch.”
But Nik had no intention of declaring, and she told Giya, and everyone who asked, as much.
Brek couldn’t blame her. He understood Giya’s position. He wanted to see Telari defeated. He feared what a man capable of doing that to his Nik could do.
But she’d said no, and that was that. She’d been through hell, and some selfish part of him was glad to keep her out of it, to keep her safe, and free from the turmoil.
Having once told him that she loved him, Nik said it often now. And, free to do so himself, so did he. Brek didn’t think it was possible to be happier than he was in those days.
Then, about a week after the incident, Nik rose early in the morning. “Darling, can you watch Grela for me for a bit?”
“Of course. But what’s up?”
“I need to do something. It will only take a little while.”
“Nik, is everything okay?”
She kissed him tenderly. “Better than okay, my Brek. Trust me. Please?”
“Okay.”
She came back an hour later, and said nothing about her excursion. Brek was, of course, dying of curiosity, but he didn’t press. If she wanted to tell him, she would.
She fed Grela, and when the child fell asleep, she took Brek’s hand and said, “Will you sit with me for a while?”
He followed her to the sitting room, and frowned. She was fidgeting, and would not meet his gaze. “Nik, darling, what’s wrong?”
She glanced up. “Nothing. Nothing, Brek.”
He squeezed her hand. “Whatever it is, tell me.”
She sucked in a long breath, then exhaled it. “Brek…I love you.”
He wasn’t sure what he expected, but this wasn’t it. Neither was the warmth and tenderness in her gaze. None of it sat right with the nervousness of her manner. “Darling, I love you too.” Didn’t she know that already? Did she doubt it?
She nodded, taking in another breath. Then, still holding his hand, she dropped to a knee. “Brek, I…I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me, Brek Trigan?”
For half a moment, he was too surprised to find his voice. So he slipped out of his chair, wrapping her in his arms and plastering her in kisses. The movement knocked her off balance, and they landed in a heap. His ribs ached, but he kept kissing her.
She was laughing, and the nervousness in her voice filled his heart. Could she really doubt – fear – that he’d say no? “Is that a yes?”
“Oh gods, Nik, of course it’s a yes.” He had always assumed he’d be the one to ask her, someday, when he was sure she was ready. But he’d been ready for so long now.
She gazed up at him, still giggling. “You’ve got to get off me, you goof. I’ve got to get your ring out.”
He didn’t though, kissing her again. “I don’t care about the ring.”
She kissed him back. “You know, I had this all planned. I’d ask, you’d say yes-”
“You were sure of that, eh?”
“No,” she admitted. “I wasn’t. But I was hoping.”
“Oh Nik.” He squeezed her to him. “Could you doubt it?”
She pecked him gently on the lips. “And then, I’d give you your ring. That’s why I had to go out this morning. To do this right, to make it perfect.”
“Hm,” he said, “am I ruining it, then? Your perfect proposal?”
She grinned. “I don’t know. I think it went alright.”
“You sure?” He leaned in, bringing his lips to her ear. “Because I’ve got a few ideas on how I can make it up to you.”
Tal Imari stirred in his bed. Somewhere, in the periphery of his awareness, a noise was filtering through to his brain, pulling him back toward consciousness. He rolled onto his side, and then, all at once, opened his eyes and pushed into a sitting position.
It was his pager, the shrill tones ringing from its charging station.
Tal was on his feet in a heartbeat, covering the distance between him and the dresser before the tone ended. He accepted the call, saying, “Hello?”
No one answered, though, and he frowned at the pager. The line was dead. He thumbed back to the contact history. The number that had called him was the main security booth’s primary phone. Ki Rigar. He’d be the officer on duty now.
Tal punched in the number, but instead of a ring tone, he was greeted with the staccato tones of a disconnected number.
The security officer felt his heart skip a beat. What in the hell… He tried again, with the same results, and then he called Ki’s number directly. Ki didn’t pick up.
Maybe it’s a power failure. He flipped the lights switch in his bedroom, and his heart sank a little as the lights responded. It wasn’t a power failure. Fuck.
He tried Governor Nees, now, and the emergency line in her room. It was dead, too. He tried Tig’s number too. Nothing.
Grabbing his gun and boots, Tal pushed out a black alert from his pager. It was a summons, calling officers from every shift to active duty, to rendezvous at the governor’s mansion. He’d implemented Condition Black when he took over, but it was a signal he was never supposed to have to use.
Condition Black was the worst-case-scenario call to arms. Condition Black was for enemy troops on Trapper’s Colony, or a natural disaster of catastrophic proportions. It meant an imminent threat against the governor’s life. It meant the shit had finally hit the fan.
And right now, every sense in the lawman’s body told him that this was a Condition Black situation.
Tal took off at a run for his car, praying to every god in the Tribari pantheon that, whatever was happening, he wasn’t too late.
Chapter Fifty
Ari Nees blinked into the darkness of her room. “Tig?” she whispered. “Was that you?” But her husband didn’t respond. His breathing was slow and peaceful, as if he was deep in slumber.
She glanced around the darkened room. It seemed still. But her heart was racing. She’d heard something. She was sure of that. She wasn’t sure what she’d heard. But there’d been something.
Slowly, very slowly, she reached a hand to the nightstand beside her bed. Ari’s instincts were good. There’d been a point in her life when her senses were, perhaps, a little too heightened, when she’d jumped at every shadow, and been ready to draw at every noise.
But that had been a long time ago. Now, as she reached for the pistol she kept in that nightstand drawer, she didn’t doubt her instincts. Her fingers found purchase on the drawer handle, and slowly, carefully, she pulled. It slid out silently, and she slipped her hand inside, feeling for the gun.
As carefully as she’d extended her hand, she withdrew the pistol. Then she heard it again: the sound of boots on the roof overhead. There was no mistaking it this time, no dismissing it as an overactive imagination.
Someone was here, on the roof. “Tig,” she whispered, shaking her husband gently. “Tig, wake up.”
“Huh?” he murmured
, his tone heavy with sleep.
She put her hand over his mouth. “Tig, wake up.”
He did this time. “Ari?”
Her hand muffled most of the sound, but she whispered, “Shh. Tig, don’t make a sound.” She felt him nod, and removed her hand. “There’s someone here, darling. On the roof.”
“What?”
His tone was low, a whisper, but she hushed him again. “I’m not sure what’s going on, but we need to get to the safe room. Okay? Quietly. And no lights.”
Wordlessly, Tig crept out of bed. Nees was on her feet, waiting for him, her eyes darting between the room’s doors. There were three of them: one off the main hall, one leading to the balcony, and another to the master bathroom.
Any of them might provide a point of access. The hall could be accessed from any of the second story rooms. Likewise, the balcony was a short drop from the roof, and the bathroom window, while it would be a tight squeeze, could admit a persistent intruder.
The safe room was downstairs, off her main office. “Come on,” she whispered as Tig reached her side. “We need to-”
She cut off quickly, though, shoving him downward. A silhouette, dark against the balcony-facing windows, caught her eye. It was moving quickly, deftly, for the exterior door. Nees’ breath caught as another, and then another followed.
Fuck. This was no thief, then, no enterprising criminal. These were professionals. And they were coming for her and Tig.
“Darling,” she whispered, “I need you to stay low. Get to the door. Get downstairs, and get in the safe room. Call Tal, as soon as you get there.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll be there, as soon as I can.”
“I’m not leaving you, Ari.” His tone was low but determined.
She didn’t have time to argue with him. The lock on the balcony door gave with a quiet thunk, and the door moved, ever so slowly, inward.
She trained her pistol on the opening, and waited until a form stepped through the aperture. Then, she fired.
Tal reached the governor’s mansion a few minutes after he set out. At a glance, nothing was out of the ordinary. But Ki Rigar still wasn’t coming in when paged. Nor was anyone else on the evening security detail. He’d heard from a few of the daytime officers, who were en route.