by Regine Abel
The chime of the antivirus finishing to deploy gave me an excuse to focus on my computer. Within seconds, the map of the ship’s systems confirmed the progress of the virus had stopped. I typed a few more commands on my computer. It ran a series of empty functions that would resemble a complex subroutine to the laymen, especially ones who couldn’t read Guldan. I needed that distraction to cover the real method by which I would revert the damage.
Placing my palm on the navigation board of the ship, as if for support, I stared unseeing at the holographic screen of my computer, pretending to be observing the program running on it. Extending my psionic senses, I used my touch activated Veredian power to seek out a ship-wide subroutine in which to implant my command. In my mind’s eye, every program running the ship appeared like a ghostly tree diagram, spreading its branches in every direction, each connection instinctively recognized and catalogued.
I understood viruses well because I was the greatest of them all.
While nanites remained my favorite method of propagation for their versatility, software also worked well, especially in this instance. I targeted the life support systems, which connected to every subsystem of the ship in one form or another before implanting a revert command. Unlike my niece Amalia, who could take control of entire systems and perform complex reprogramming, I could only issue a simple command that would spread and replicate until it met its end condition or it had saturated the host. In this case, my command would reset every system to yesterday morning—hours before the virus was implanted—and then self-destruct.
I never left behind any traces of my viral presence.
In my head, I could see it spreading over the ghostly tendrils of the tree. Refocusing on the room around me, I furtively looked at the Braxians surrounding me. To my relief, none had noticed me using my psi ability. I gazed up at the screen, and a smile stretched my lips when many of the red sections on the ship’s map reverted to orange, then yellow, then white.
“Fuck me,” Baldur muttered, his eyes glued to the screen.
Unlike the Guldan virus which had targeted systems in a specific sequence, mine just spread in every direction at once.
“It will take about fifteen minutes to complete its work,” I said, facing Ravik. “Add to that however long it will take some systems to reboot after the reversal.”
“Well done, little bird,” Ravik said, his eyes gleaming with pride.
“Indeed,” Fenton said with an unreadable expression in his gentle eyes.
Baldur grunted, which I once more found endearing. I almost wanted to adopt him as a pet. I had a thing for big and grumpy.
I preened under Ravik’s approval and the stunned admiration of his officers, and then curtsied in a sign of thank you. Moments later, the blinking red lights on the ceiling turned off, signaling the end of the alert.
“As soon as the reset is complete, I want ship-wide diagnostics of all systems, especially engineering,” Baldur said to one of the crew.
“Yes, Captain.”
Ravik crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes boring into mine. I loved how that pose made his bulging biceps appear even bigger. And those veins… My mouth watered reminiscing how they had felt under my tongue.
“And about facing off those who did this?” Ravik asked, his tone making it clear he wouldn’t welcome an answer that said no.
I shifted uncomfortably, not sure how to tackle this sensitive topic.
“Whatever your thoughts, you may speak freely,” Ravik said, having sensed my discomfort.
“Before speaking of pursuit,” I said cautiously, “maybe we should figure out who planted this in the first place.”
“We’re already working on that,” Fenton said.
“On my honor, I am ready to vouch for every single man in this crew,” Baldur said, forcefully. “I have personally chosen or trained them. They are completely loyal to the Magnar.”
“I second that,” Fenton said.
“And I,” Ravik said. “These men have been with me for years. I trust them with my life. Not so much some of the guests who traveled with us and remained on Venus Hive after our departure.”
“It is my assumption as well,” Fenton said. “I have already reached out to Pattel to have him keep discreet tabs on them.”
“William is your man if you want to find out about anything shady happening on the space station,” I said. “When Anton hears what has transpired here, he will put all of his resources at your disposal to track down the culprit.”
“I’m sure Pattel will think of that,” Ravik said. “But it doesn’t hurt to make sure he does.”
Fenton nodded in response to Ravik’s pointed look.
“All right then,” I said, still concerned we might have a double-agent onboard. “I’ll be brutally honest. I think going after them might be suicidal.”
Baldur snorted, his condescending look stating loudly he thought fear dictated that reaction. Although it irritated me, I didn’t take the bait.
Leaning against the edge of the navigation board, I crossed my arms over my chest, like Ravik had previously done. “If they are indeed waiting to ambush the pods, we don’t know how many ships are waiting for us, what types, or what kind of firepower they pack. By the time we’re close enough to reveal them, we may not be able to escape if we’re outnumbered.”
Ravik nodded slowly. He pursed his lips while he reflected on my words. “How do you intend to disable their cloak?”
“With a virus that could be embedded in a tractor beam or photon torpedo,” I said with a shrug.
“Tractor beam?” Ravik asked. “Does it have to be outgoing or can it be incoming?”
I blinked, unsure what he meant.
“Your concerns are valid,” Ravik said in light of my obvious confusion. “But I’m thinking that if they are waiting to tow in our escape pods en route to a safe destination, we should give them what they want.”
My eyes widened in understanding, and an impressed smile blossomed on my lips. “You’re a fucking genius!” I exclaimed. Uncrossing my arms, I rested my palms on the edge of the console, my eyes going out of focus as I performed a quick mental analysis of his implied tactic. “Yes. That would totally work.”
Fenton, Baldur, and the other two officers’ lost expressions made me grin.
“It will take me some time to prepare, but yes, it can be done,” I said, exchanging a conspiratorial grin with Ravik. “Let’s get to work, then.”
* * *
An hour later, we launched rigged escape pods en route to the human colony of Gielyn, the closest, safe planet to the original location of Ravik’s battleship, Drakkar. Applying a bit of a convoluted method, we managed to hook the cloaking shield of my Falcon to the Drakkar’s systems, using their engine to boost its strength. My vessel used Tuurean cloaking technology which, to this day, had not been breached by any other species.
After less than thirty minutes of following the pods, a Guldan battlecruiser decloaked, four of its tractor beams latching on to the first few pods in range. Still cloaked, the Drakkar stopped out of weapons and detection range. Too small to see, the egg-shaped delivery containers attached to the pods, five on each, flew off the surface of the escape vessel and burst open, spilling their contents into space; viral nanites specially programmed by yours truly.
As more of the pods approached, two destroyers decloaked, each firing their tractor beams at the incoming escape capsules. Although the Drakkar was a bigger, more powerful vessel, the Guldan ships were of a far more advanced design. Their combined firepower could seriously jeopardize the Braxian ship’s integrity.
The destroyers had only drawn in a couple of the pods, the battlecruiser having captured at least a dozen, when the nanites’ magic began to manifest itself. Four frigates surrounding the other three ships blinked in and out of existence, their cloaks disintegrating. The crew of the battlecruiser was the first to realize we’d turned their trap on them. They released the new set of pods they’d been reeling in an
d opened their hatch, no doubt intent on dumping their previous catch.
“Blow them up,” Ravik said, a feral expression on his face.
“Acknowledged,” Baldur said, setting off the charges that had been loaded in the pods.
The battlecruiser shook from the violence of the multiple detonations, its hull breaching in various locations. The destroyers were obliterated within seconds, the first explosion nearly splitting them in half before chain explosions finished them off. Three of the frigates managed to warp out of there, the fourth sustaining severe damage from flying debris.
“Let’s go finish them,” said a blonde-haired officer with light-brown eyes.
“No,” Ravik said. “As much as I want to crush their bones with my bare hands, the three who jumped might return with friends. Baldur, get us as far away from here as possible. I have some Guldans to meet back home.”
“Yes, Magnar,” Baldur said, hitting his chest with his fist.
Ravik extended a hand towards me. Without a word, I took it and let him lead me off the bridge.
CHAPTER 7
Ravik
We landed on Braxia a little after nightfall. Despite her eagerness to go to her brother’s home, Ravena agreed to stay the night at my fortress. Beyond my selfish need to have her with me—and in my bed—I didn’t want her entering that place without having it secured first. Having her by my side before my subjects, my scent all over her, my claim clearly stated, would give any Braxian pause before they considered messing with her in any way.
Krygor Aldriss and Raylor Caldes greeted us at the landing pad. To my surprise, Caldes seemed genuinely pleased by our early arrival. I had expected him to be fuming about the failed abduction attempt. But he only appeared impatient to have me meet his Guldan guests. Although he would have had time to regain control of his emotions, Raylor had never been much of an actor, his feelings always plain to see. I wondered then if he truly had no clue what had transpired. This, in turn, raised the question as to whether the Guldans were merely using him as a puppet in a more nefarious scheme.
As we entered my hall, the female servants got on their knees, their heads bent in submission. Their male counterparts stood in a tight row behind them, heads also bowed and hands clasped behind their backs. My guards, guests, and clansmen held a fist to their chests. Ravena bristled at this sight. Her disapproval stung. Yet, she would have been far more offended five years ago before I had begun implementing changes in the treatment of women.
I waved a hand for them to rise, which signaled the males to be at ease. All eyes openly spied my woman with a mix of curiosity, hostility, and awe at her beauty. My chest swelled with pride, not only to have such a female on my arm, but at the poised, regal way in which she carried herself, unfazed by the open scrutiny she’d fallen under.
My sons approached us, their gazes lingering on Ravena before shifting back to me.
“Father,” they said, pressing their fists to their chests.
“My sons,” I said, placing a hand on one shoulder each and giving them an affectionate squeeze. Turning towards my woman, I gestured at my sons. “Ravena, this is Keran, my oldest, and Ganek my youngest. Sons, this is Ravena.”
I placed a possessive hand on her hip for all to see the nature of our relationship. The need to call her my concubine burned my tongue, but she hadn’t given her formal consent… nor had I asked.
My sons’ eyes widened in an almost imperceptible manner. I knew them too well for it to escape my notice. Still, they saluted her the same way they had me. She responded with the traditional Veredian greeting, placing her palm on her heart before waving her hand towards them in an offering gesture.
“A pleasure to meet you…” Ravena hesitated, uncertain what to call them.
“Jakar would be the title used for my sons,” I said, gently.
She gave me a grateful smile. “A pleasure to meet you, Jakar Keran, and you Jakar Ganek.”
“The pleasure is ours, Madam,” Keran said, an indecipherable look on his face. “I hope you are both hungry as we awaited your return for evening meal.”
“We are indeed,” I said, gesturing for Keran to lead the way.
He nodded his full head of hair, as black as mine and his youngest brother’s. Turning on his heels, he marched towards the dining hall where the Elder Clan Leaders would joins us. My gaze roamed proudly over my sons and the rippling muscles of their strong backs. Born to me from different long-ago concubines—now returned to their respective clans—their height and size nearly matched mine, and their features left no doubt as to the identity of their sire. However, both sons had inherited their mothers’ eyes with Keran’s being grey and Ganek’s being brown.
The dining hall’s dark grey walls and maroon stone floors would have been somber if not for the tall windows through which Braxia’s sun bathed the room with a soft light. In the center of the room, a large table shaped as a U could accommodate twenty-five people. My sons usually sat next to me. The elders would divide equally along the sides with whatever distinguished guest might be in attendance. The cushioned, high-back chairs lined the outer side of the tables, the center area remaining unencumbered so that servants could easily serve us and performers—usually erotic dancers—could entertain us.
Across the room, in front of the main table, twelve ten-person tables were reserved for senior or honored members of each of the Elder Clans. On the left and right sides of the main table, long but narrow tables were set for wives and concubines. The females quietly filed in. Like the males, they stood in front of their chairs, waiting for my sons and me to be seated first.
A single glance sufficed for Ravena to understand that, as a female, she’d be expected to sit with the other women. The look on her face made no mystery I’d have a fight on my hands if I sent her there. How could I have forgotten to discuss the Braxian protocols with her in the 24 hours it took us to get here?
Without a word on my part, my youngest son, Ganek, gestured for one of the male servants to bring a fourth chair to the head of the table. A hush fell over the room. Only the Dagna, the Magnar’s wife, would sit at the head of the table. A distinguished guest such as a female ambassador, which technically Ravena could pass for, would have the honor of sitting at the main table, but on the sides, not at the head.
Grateful for my son’s initiative that let me off the hook, I led Ravena by the hip to the chair next to mine. Keran stood before the chair at her right and Ganek at my left.
I sat down, my sons followed suit, and then so did Ravena. I smiled, pleased that she had so well understood the protocol even without explanation. The rest of the attendance took their seats, aside from Caldes who remained standing. The servants immediately started buzzing around us, bringing dishes and drink.
“Magnar,” Raylor Caldes said, “the Guldans I have told you about are here. With your permission, I would like to invite them to your table.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, still finding no deceit, only excessive eagerness. Fenton and Krygor stared at him, their gaze assessing. I’d contacted Krygor and my sons as soon as we’d set in motion the plan to turn the Guldans’ trap on them. If they had sought to abduct me on my way home, chances were they’d seek to neutralize my sons as well. I leaned back against my seat, pondering.
Ravena’s eyes flicked between Raylor and me. Despite her neutral expression, I could sense the tension within her. To my relief, as much as I knew she hated it, and of her own volition, my woman had once more covered her markings with a long-sleeved, ankle-length, black sheath dress. Until we got rid of these Guldans, I preferred to keep her genetics a secret.
“You may,” I said.
Raylor responded with a triumphant smile, having no idea about the tongue lashing I had in store for his guests. He nodded to Siltar, his second-born son, who ran to get the Guldans. Minutes later, he returned with two males; one with black horns and silver-white hair, the other with brown horns and dark brown hair. Their polite smiles faltered as they approached
the table and noted Ravena’s presence. They looked around the room, as if seeking someone or something before their gazes returned to my woman, a frown marring their foreheads. The silver-haired Guldan appeared the most troubled.
“Magnar,” Raylor said, “I am pleased to introduce you to the Honorable Hartuk Tellin and Lorik Zorak, Guldan Ambassadors, here to hopefully negotiate a mutually beneficial alliance.”
“Magnar,” both men said, slightly bowing their heads.
I stared at them without returning the salutation. Raylor’s lips tightened ever so slightly. With a stiff smile, he invited the Guldans to take a seat, while three servants poured wine for my sons and me. When they turned to leave, Ravena tsked and raised her glass.
“Forgetting something, sweetheart?” she asked.
Amidst the gasps and shocked faces of the males around the table, Krygor lifted an amused eyebrow while Fenton made no effort to repress a snort. The servant, the hybrid daughter of a former slave, cast a wary glance towards me. I gave Ravena’s glass a meaningful look, indicating for her to proceed. Lips parted in shock and eyes bulging, the girl complied, her hands slightly shaking as she served my woman wine. Conversation resumed as the servants moved to other guests.
Once everyone was served, I raised my glass and silence once more fell over the audience.
“To new friendships,” I said, looking at Ravena who winked at me. “To new alliances,” which had Caldes perking up, “and to thwarted kidnapping attempts,” I concluded, my eyes boring into Harturk’s, the silver-haired Guldan who seemed to be in charge.
Both he and his companion stiffened while shocked gasps and outraged cries erupted all around the room.
Holding the Guldan’s gaze, unflinching, I downed the contents of my glass and held it up for a servant to refill.
“Hear!” said Fenton, Krygor, and my two sons, while raising their glasses as well.
They emptied their glasses, Ravena emulating them.
“What is the meaning of this?” Raylor asked, torn between shock, outrage, and something akin to fear.