by D. M. Pruden
A cheer went up from the crew. Though Pavlovich was relieved to survive the battle, the idea of his cousin having access to such destructive power gave him no cause to join in the celebration.
Beaming with renewed confidence, Malkovich called his people back to the present. “When the weapon is recharged, target all of Stromm’s fleet and program a firing solution to take them all out.”
“Cousin, you won your war,” said Pavlovich. “Allow them to surrender to you.”
“What, and give them an opportunity to bide their time before they challenge me again? I can’t permit that. I intend to make a definitive statement here and now to dissuade any who think to oppose me when we take this power to the rest of the empire.”
Moments later, the lights on the bridge flickered, as if someone played with the switch. One by one, each ship in Stromm’s armada met a similar fate as the dreadnought.
Pavlovich didn’t attempt to conceal his disgust at the orgy of destruction. “Your point is made! You don’t need to destroy all of the ships.”
“They made their choices when they sided with the tyrant. Now, payment is due for the innocent lives they have taken.”
Helpless, Pavlovich watched as ship after ship rippled then burst apart like soap bubbles, until none remained.
“I’m not sure who the actual tyrant is.”
Malkovich sneered. “I’m afraid you must bear your share of responsibility for this, Yegor. If you had chosen to live up to your responsibility—sacrificed yourself, perhaps we might not have been able to crack your encryption. But I knew you were weak; you haven’t changed since we were children. I don’t know why I’m disappointed in you; I suppose I expected decades in the wilderness to toughen you up. I’m almost sorry I was wrong.”
“If you call compassion weakness...”
Malkovich laughed coarsely. “It doesn’t matter. Stromm is dead, and his tyranny is over. Now we can rebuild everything.” He focused intently on Pavlovich. “There is only one last thing to accomplish. Give me the cynosure, and I will let you and your AI girlfriend live. Perhaps I will have my scientists find a way to replicate the process you used to turn her into a machine. You can join her in her virtual world, permanently. Maybe, for the first time in your life, you could be happy, Cousin.”
“You murdered thousands with this ship. There is no way in hell I will enable you.”
“Then I will return us to Pictor Prime and have it disassembled. Every component will be examined and dissected. It may take years, but I will find it. You, however, and your girlfriend, will not survive to see it happen.”
He indicated Pavlovich to the armed soldier who had shot Gunney. The man drew his pistol.
“Stop! I’ll help you,” said a voice over the speaker.
“Cora, no!”
“Shut up, Cap’n! I’m saving your life.”
He was speechless. She had never spoken to him like that.
“I will tell you exactly where the part you are looking for is hidden, but I have terms.”
Amused, Malkovich said, “What are they?”
“You allow me to transfer into a synth body and give us a ship. You let us go our own way.”
“And you won’t do anything to sabotage Scimitar before you leave? That is hard to believe.”
“Your team can do a complete review of all the systems. I’ll even teach them how to use the FTL drive.”
“Cora, please don’t...”
“Why are you doing this?” asked Malkovich.
“Because you murdered everyone else I’ve ever loved. If I can save my captain, I don’t care much what happens in the rest of the universe.”
He smiled at Pavlovich. “I will admit, Cousin, your ability to command such loyalty is inspirational.”
“Do we have a deal?” asked Cora.
Malkovich stroked his chin in thought. “Yes, we do.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Try Not to Kill Everyone
“DID YOU SEE that?” said Stella.
Hayden shook his head as he studied the screen. “That could have been us.”
“Pavlovich cut that too close.”
“I’m still locked out of Scimitar,” said Cora from the pilot station. “They had no way to know we are alive or our whereabouts.”
Stella returned her gaze to the cloud of drifting debris that now occupied where the dreadnought had been. “Why did he fire if he didn’t know we were clear?”
“He wouldn’t have,” said Hayden as he continued to study the screen. Ship after ship of Stromm’s armada distorted like in a carnival mirror before being consumed by a wave of dark energy. “Something must have gone terribly wrong aboard Scimitar.”
“You don’t think Pavlovich is in charge any more?” asked Stella.
“He’d better not be, or I’ll kill him for sure this time.”
“You believe Malkovich has seized control?” said Cora. “That would explain a great deal.”
“Shhh,” hissed Hayden, glancing back at the survivors. “Not so loud.”
“What are we going to do?” she asked, hushed.
Kaine checked again if anyone had overheard them. Seeing no reaction from anyone, he motioned for Cora and Stella to move closer.
“Our transponder is still inactive, and the ship is in stealth mode. Scimitar can’t track us.”
“What are you proposing?” asked Stella.
“We can redock with her without being noticed. Cora, can you deactivate the sensors on the airlock like you did on the dreadnought?”
“Yes, but if there has been a mutiny, what can the two of us do?”
“Three,” said Stella, frowning.
Hayden gently held her shoulders and searched her eyes. “You’re wounded and half starved, just like the others. None of you is in condition to help.”
“If you get aboard, what then? You two can’t take on all of Malkovich’s men alone. You need me.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Will your help take the form of what happened back there on Stromm’s ship?”
She blanched. “That was...impulsive—reactive. Nobody will get hurt this time.”
“We’ve seen the result of you using your ability in that way. You can’t control it, and I know the price you pay when you push your gift...”
“It’s not a gift,” she said, “but I’m prepared to use it again if I have to protect you.”
He studied the earnestness in her eyes. If he had learned anything about himself, he understood that he had no right to decide anything for her. “We will try not to let it come to that.” He turned to Cora. “We need to know the situation on Scimitar. Then we can come up with a plan.”
“We have a problem finding that out. They have somehow isolated my partition’s access to ship’s functions. I’m totally blind from here.”
“Is there anything you can do?” asked Stella.
“There are back doors in place. If I can reach a service node aboard Scimitar, I can get into the system and regain control, unless they modified all the security codes.”
Hayden drew and checked his sidearm. “I’ll cover you as best as I can. How close is it to the airlock?”
“Ten metres down the corridor.”
“I can help,” said Stella. “I can still sense people’s emotions. I can warn you if someone is near; if they suspect we are there.”
“Can you do it from inside this ship?”
Annoyed, she said, “I can read people, but I have no way to tell you if I’m stuck in here. If I use a comm link, they might pick it up.”
“She has a point, Hayden.”
He looked back at the surviving crew, huddled beneath blankets, blank stares on their faces. Even wounded, Stella was in better shape than any of them. He marvelled at her strength and immediately pushed from his mind any of the imagined horrors Stromm might have visited upon her. There would be plenty of time to deal with that later, he hoped.
“I’m betting that they won’t pay attention to the docking ports if
they think we died aboard Stromm’s ship,” he said. He paused to consider the situation and the few options available to them.
Seeing no alternative, he sighed and said, “All right, you should come with us.” He handed her his pistol. “Use this before you turn to your ability. We don’t want to kill everyone who has a LINK...”
She snatched the gun from him and checked its settings. “I know what I’m capable of. I told Pavlovich I would never use it to help him.” She looked into his eyes. “But I will not hesitate if it will save you.”
“We will be docking in five minutes,” said Cora.
Hayden enfolded Stella in his arms, and they clung tightly to each other. One way or another, everything would change for them once they docked with Scimitar. He had a difficult time imagining any way things could end well.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Show Me
“KEEP MOVING,” SAID Malkovich, brandishing his pistol.
“Is that thing really necessary, Cousin?” Pavlovich looked past him at the armed soldiers who followed them. “Ten Rangers can surely protect you?”
“Shut up. We’re almost there.”
He ground his teeth and turned to continue walking. “What assurances do I have that you will honour our deal?”
“You have none. But you don’t have any choice if you want your girlfriend to live.”
“She isn’t my—she’s young enough to be my—”
“A niece? Just like the multitude of nieces Thomas used to parade around at functions back on Earth. I never understood the motivation for such euphemism. If a woman is a lover, one should have the balls to say so, don’t you agree?”
“What happened to you? You were never like this when we grew up together.”
“Maybe I was but didn’t realize it about myself. It took Stromm murdering my family, friends, colleagues, men and women who entrusted me with their lives. Events like that have a way of bringing out our true self.”
“Cesar, it was a tragedy, but you aren’t the only one whose life was ruined by him.”
“This has nothing to do with the dead. They are gone. The empire is gone. All that remains is ashes and ruin. You saw what unfolded here at Pictor. Can you imagine any scenario better than this taking place anywhere in the Confederation? Something has to be done.”
“What you seek to do with the cynosure won’t bring any of them back. It will only cost millions more lives in the end.”
“People die every day. I am looking at the survival of the human species. Isolated as we now are, thanks to Kaine, we will wipe ourselves out. Every world is a prison supplied with modern weapons. Nobody will survive unless we reunite under a common banner. Humanity needs to expand; we need an outlet for our innate aggression and our innovative ability to kill each other. Only access to the technology the cynosure promises will save us. There is no other way.”
“It’s possible there is.”
“You were always the idealist, letting your self-righteousness shut you out of opportunity. Your folly exiled you to the farthest reaches of the empire, and for what? So you could thumb your nose at Thomas, Stromm, and the others? Tell me, exactly how did that work out for you?”
“At least I know who I am. I can fall asleep at night.”
“I sleep just fine. Keep moving, we’re almost there.”
They continued on in silence until they reached their goal. Standing outside of the entrance to the rail gun bay, Pavlovich hesitated.
“This is one of the last places I would have looked,” said Malkovich. “If this is some kind of trick—”
“This place is a coincidence. If this is where Cora says the thing is, then it’s here.”
“The truth will come out soon enough.” The general addressed the armed men behind them. “Keep a sharp eye. I don’t exactly trust that the captain has our best interest at heart.”
“I have no tricks up my sleeve. Even I am not stupid enough to think the same trick will work a second time.”
Malkovich nodded to the door, and Pavlovich entered the access code to unlock and open it. He led the entourage into the bay, admitting a low whistle. “I haven’t been in here since it was refurbished. You guys did a nice job.”
A gun pressed into his back. “Quit stalling. Turn on the comm so your girlfriend can tell us where it’s hidden.”
Pavlovich went to the control panel and was confused by what he saw.
“What’s the problem, Yegor?”
Before he could answer, the door they had entered through slammed shut with a loud metallic bang.
Startled, everyone turned to see what had happened. As they did so, Pavlovich seized Malkovich’s wrist and attempted to wrestle the pistol from his hand.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the Rangers notice their struggle. The man raised his weapon.
“Now would be a good time!” yelled Pavlovich.
A second later, the Ranger went down in a spray of blood.
Then all hell broke loose.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Mano-a-Mano
KAINE WASTED NO additional time selecting a second target. He still held the element of surprise for a few more seconds before Malkovich’s men realized what was happening.
One more fell to Hayden’s fire. The remaining Rangers scattered about the bay, seeking whatever shelter they could, most of them ending up under the acceleration ramp structure.
He spoke into his helmet mic. “Cora! Stella! Keep them pinned. I’m going to help the captain.”
Pavlovich and Malkovich struggled in a wrestling match. The dropped pistol lay on the deck, kicked about by scuffing feet. They were matched, and it was apparent to Hayden that they were old sparring partners, each responding to the other’s moves from long familiarity.
Yet there was an obvious difference in their objectives. Pavlovich sought to subdue with different holds, countered by his experienced opponent. Malkovich’s efforts had more lethal intent. Multiple deep scratches marred Pavlovich’s face. The two were engaged in a confrontation that the captain did not seem committed to win at the required price.
Their desperate struggle kicked the fallen pistol across the floor and out of reach. Seeing his opportunity, Hayden sprang toward the struggling men, determined to break up the conflict by knocking them both off of their feet.
Searing pain exploded in his shoulder as a bullet tore through it.
He dropped and rolled for the nearest cover beneath a control console as multiple projectiles ricocheted around him.
A panicked search found the two men still locked in mortal combat. The only reason Pavlovich hadn’t been gunned down by one of the Rangers was that the constantly moving pair offered no clear target. That would not last for long.
He shouted into his mic, “I need some covering fire!”
“We have most of them pinned down, but one or two have moved, and I can’t see them,” responded Cora.
Hayden searched for the locations where the women were hidden. He spotted a Ranger moving in the shadows, creeping up on their position.
“Stella, to your left!”
Too late, she turned to see the soldier who stalked her. One quick burst from his weapon, and she dropped to the floor.
“No!” He rose to his knees, prompting another spray of fire in his direction. Bullets whizzed about him, two striking home in his hip and elbow. His gun went one way while he dove back to his shelter.
“Hayden!” called Cora. “Are you okay?”
Pushing the pain down, he replied, “Never mind me. Stella’s been hit!”
“I can’t get to her. The Rangers are no longer pinned, they’re com—”
Weapons fire erupted near Cora’s position. He turned in time to watch her being riddled with bullets from multiple directions, each shot jerking her body in a macabre death dance.
Catching himself, he bit down on his tongue to avoid giving away his location.
“Kaine!”
He followed the voice to find Mal
kovich, breathing hard and pointing his recovered pistol at the kneeling Pavlovich. Blood trailed down his captain’s face from scratches, and one of his arms hung limp and useless at his side, while the other was weakly raised in surrender.
“Stand down if you want your captain to live.”
He cast his gaze about, searching for his dropped weapon, but it was nowhere in sight. The surviving Rangers emerged from their cover locations, guns directed at him. All he could see of Stella was her limp hand peeking out from behind a strut support. Two short paces away from her, Cora’s android body lay motionless.
Gulping air to control his grief, he called out. “I surrender. Don’t shoot.”
Pulling off his helmet, he let it fall to the floor. Raising his remaining good arm over his head, he struggled to stand. He wanted to die with some dignity but was forced to appear weak by leaning against the console for support.
“I’ll give you an ‘A’ for effort, Kaine. I had no idea you survived the destruction of the dreadnought. I’m not sure how you managed to slip away from my Rangers to set up this ambush, but it was well played.”
“So now what happens?”
“Now? I think it should be obvious.”
At a nod from him, Malkovich’s troops approached to take him into custody.
“Don’t worry about me, Kaine,” said Pavlovich. “This isn’t the worst situation you’ve put me in.” He quickly glanced at the control panel Hayden leaned against.
Confused, Hayden weighed the captain’s odd words for a moment before his meaning dawned on him.
Shifting his position, his injured arm draped across the interface. Using his body to shield his actions, he felt out the keypad and entered a sequence from memory.