by JP Raymond
“I’m not interested in your meaningless insults, Mutakh,” Rorgun said. “I just want the crystal we purchased. Hand it over.”
“As you wish,” he said. “But my ‘insults’ are no such thing. They are statements of fact, and they have deep meaning. Behold.”
The Kwin Faan leader tapped a command into the pad on his desk. A panel on the far wall slid open, revealing a video screen.
“This transmission first started airing here half an hour ago,” Kairee said. “Given that The Outpost is in a remote corner of the Empire, one presumes it has been showing for at least a day in the more civilized portions of the galaxy.”
An Elohiman reporter JaQuan recognized as Fliinta Lor appeared on the screen. She was one of IEN’s regular anchors.
“Repeating our top story,” she said, staring into the camera with giant black eyes and a practiced grave expression. “Haneeta Mol, daughter of Imperial Senator Idrib Mol, has been kidnapped. Authorities believe the human terrorist organization Manifest Destiny is responsible for the crime, although the group has not yet issued any demands or claims of responsibility.
“Haneeta Mol was last seen in the company of this man, James Brody.”
A picture of Brody replaced Fliinta Lor on the screen. He wasn’t smiling, but there was the vaguest hint of a smirk through his five o’clock shadow. His blue eyes gazed out defiantly. He looked like an asshole.
“Brody had been under investigation by both the Space Rangers and Imperial Security Forces for ties to the human extremists,” Lor said.
“That son of a bitch,” JaQuan said.
“Brody is believed to be working with this woman, Kitekh Galesh,” Lor went on. Kitekh’s image replaced Brody’s on the screen. “Brody was last seen boarding Galesh’s ship, Cataan’s Claw, at Daxal Station. Imperial forces attempted to detain the ship, but she blasted her way into hyperspace on a trajectory thought to take her to the Rijan system.
“Galesh has no previously known ties to Manifest Destiny. But she is the daughter of Former Senator Cataan Galesh, whose career ended in scandal, when his crimes were exposed by Senator Mol. Authorities speculate Kitekh Galesh is involved in the kidnapping as an act of Graur Honor Vengeance.”
JaQuan whipped his head towards Rorgun. Cataan’s Claw’s first mate closed his eyes and winced.
“Cataan’s Claw did not arrive at Rijan IV, the flight plan filed with Daxal Station Control,” Lor continued, as the video of her in the studio replaced the picture of Kitekh. “Her present whereabouts are unknown.
“All citizens are ordered to report any sightings of Kitekh Galesh, James Brody, Cataan’s Claw, or any person claiming to be a member of her crew to the nearest authority. These terrorists are considered extremely dangerous. They are a threat to Ms. Mol and the Empire itself.
“Authorities ask that no one but trained Imperial officials confront these criminals to minimize risk to Haneeta Mol.”
A picture of the senator’s daughter, smiling and laughing, appeared onscreen. She had long, silver hair that sparkled in the reflected sunlight of wherever the photo had been taken. JaQuan thought she looked alien and crazed, but he supposed that the other races, especially the Elohim, found her lovely. He had no doubt they had chosen the most attractive picture of her they could find to maximize sympathy towards her and fury towards her kidnappers.
“Senator Mol is offering a ten-thousand-sovereign reward for information that leads to the return of his daughter at the hands of the Space Rangers or Imperial Security Forces. No payment will be made to individuals bringing her in themselves.
“Senator Mol begs the citizens of the Empire to help him find his daughter and bring these terrorists to justice, adding, ‘The fate of our civilization rests on our determination not to be bullied by madmen.’
“We at IEN offer the senator and his daughter our thoughts and prayers. We’ll keep you up to date as this story develops.”
Kairee tapped a key on his desk, and the screen went blank. JaQuan tried to quell the racing of his heart and failed. They were utterly fucked.
“So,” Kairee said. “It seems your blind faith in Kitekh Galesh has led you to forsake the values of the Empire, Rorgun. You conspire with terrorists, who wish to see our way of life destroyed.”
“That’s an ironic statement coming from the leader of the Kwin Faan,” Rischa spat.
“Not at all,” Kairee countered. “We fought our rebellion to preserve the Empire, not to destroy it. We warned Emperor Acquineen to reform his ways. When he refused, we attempted to depose him. But it was all done to save the Empire and walk again in the light of God.
“These humans have no such desire. They care only for themselves and bring destruction in their wake. They will burn the Empire to the ground as the prophecies foretold.
“Kitekh Galesh has chosen to help them. And you, Rorgun, have allied yourself with her.”
He let that hang heavy in the air. No one spoke. Even JaQuan, who had never heard of the Kwin Faan or an act of Graur Honor Vengeance before coming to The Outpost, couldn’t find words to refute Kairee. Raw fear bubbled in his stomach and threatened to boil over into his mind.
“I will give you the Myollnar Crystal you earned,” Kairee went on. “I made a bargain with you, and I will keep it. But having it will do you no good. You can repair your ship, become FTL-capable again. But where can you go? Every sentient being in the galaxy is looking for you now, Rorgun. Once you leave Sigba Station, there will be no place for you to hide.
“I’m not the traitor, Rorgun. You are.”
At that, Rorgun turned and faced his old master at last. His yellow eyes narrowed and bored holes into Kairee.
“Just give me the crystal, Your Eminence,” he said.
JaQuan picked up his beamer and holstered it. He tried not to let the panic he was feeling seize total control of him.
“Ooohhh,” Alan moaned. He put a hand to his head and sat up slowly. “What happened?”
It was a good question.
Kitekh frowned as she approached the makeshift cell Shinzaa had constructed for Brody. He lay on his back on his cot, his hands folded on his chest and his eyes closed. Aside from the prisoner and the cot on which he slept, there was nothing else in the small alcove in the cargo hold. The hum of the invisible energy screen that kept him confined was the only sign of something unusual here. He might otherwise have been a crewman, catching a nap between shifts.
Next to her, Shinzaa scowled as she carried a tray of food. Kitekh shared her second mate’s feelings of disgust at having to care for Brody. She’d have preferred to tear him into strips from his extremities to his guts for betraying them – wounding them and tarring them with his crime.
But she needed answers. What little Brody had told her had only raised more questions. And she hoped there was some way to leverage turning him over – either to the authorities or his own people that would vindicate her and the rest of the crew.
“Hello, ladies,” he said as they arrived. He didn’t open his eyes. “It must be feeding time.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” Shinzaa growled.
A smirk slid slowly up Brody’s face. Shinzaa’s remark had clearly amused him, but Kitekh could not imagine why.
“I suppose not,” he said. “But I’m sure I’ll be much more willing to answer Kitekh’s questions if my stomach isn’t growling.”
He opened his eyes at last and turned his head in their direction, looking on them with an infuriating smile. Jim Brody was an ass. She couldn’t imagine what had led JaQuan to recommend him to join her crew.
“Shinzaa is going to deactivate the energy screen so she can put your food tray inside,” she said. “Don’t get off the cot if you don’t want me to gut you.”
“Oh, that’s an empty threat, and you know it Kitekh,” he retorted. “I’d have been dead days ago if you didn’t need me. But don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”
With an effort Kitekh controlled her temper. Why was he so damned sm
ug? What did he know that gave him confidence despite his circumstances?
Shinzaa tapped the control pad on the bulkhead. A brief flash of light told her the screen was down. Disgust seizing her golden face, Shinzaa knelt and pushed the tray inside the cell. Then she stood and reactivated the screen.
Brody sat up, rubbed the beard that was growing in thick on his face, and then stood and crossed to his meal, staring at it for a moment when he arrived.
“Heh,” he said. “Basic ration bars, huh? No real food? Ah, well, it sustains, even if it doesn’t satisfy.”
He picked up the tray and walked back to his cot. Seating himself, he broke the seal on the first bar’s wrapper and took a bite of the grey material.
“So,” he said as he chewed. “What’s on your mind today, Kitekh?”
“Several of the things you told me yesterday do not add up, to use your human expression,” she said.
“Such as?” he prompted, putting another bite of food in his mouth.
“You used your relationship with JaQuan to get an invitation to join our crew. Why?”
“I’ve already told you that,” he answered. “I knew JaQuan from Acclimation. I needed an in to get aboard your ship, so I could get Haneeta off Daxal Station. I played the help-an-old-friend card, and it worked.”
“But you are not old friends,” Shinzaa said. “JaQuan tells us you only knew each other from Acclimation. You had no prior or subsequent relationship.”
“I’m heartbroken,” Brody quipped, putting his hand on his chest. “After all that time we spent together having Imperial culture rammed down our throats.”
Kitekh and Shinzaa exchanged a confused look. When they returned their gaze to Brody, he was smiling and shaking his head.
“Look, there aren’t that many of us humans left,” he said. “As far as any of us know, the ones who didn’t make it to the Empire are all dead back on our side of the galaxy. And those of us who are here barely comprise a diverse enough population to continue the species.
“So anyone you know is a friend. We have to look out for each other. When I saw JaQuan at Daxal, I asked for his help, figuring he wouldn’t be able to say no. I was right.”
“But you didn’t tell him what sort of assistance you actually required,” Shinzaa said, her tone sharp. “You deceived him.”
“I told him what he needed to hear,” Brody said with a shrug. “JaQuan’s a good guy, but kidnapping isn’t exactly his line of work. The less he knew, the better.”
Fury raged through Kitekh’s heart. Brody had no honor. He lied to an alleged friend to involve him in a terrorist scheme.
Pangs of regret also assailed her. She should have known JaQuan wouldn’t betray her. She shouldn’t have assaulted him when she first learned what Brody had done.
“So JaQuan had no idea you were using his ship to get your victim off the station,” Kitekh said. “But if that is so, how could you have known he would be available?”
Brody popped the last of his ration bar into his mouth. He stared wordlessly at Kitekh as he chewed. Then he took the water canister, unscrewed the top, and sniffed the contents, before washing his food down with a long drink.
“What are you asking me, Kitekh?” he said, a knowing glint in his blue eyes.
Alarms sounded in her head. Something was wrong. She could feel herself being set up.
“You and your traitorous allies in Manifest Destiny concocted an elaborate scheme to kidnap the daughter of a prominent Elohiman Senator,” she said. “You abducted her and put her into cryogenic stasis. You needed to get her off-station, presumably to the Rijan system, since that’s where we were going.
“But until you met JaQuan, you had no way of leaving Daxal. You needed JaQuan’s ship. But you couldn’t have known he would be there, that we would need a new engineer’s mate.”
“I couldn’t?” he said, the smug light in his eyes growing brighter.
“You knew,” Shinzaa whispered. “You knew we would be at Daxal. You knew JaQuan was a member of our crew.”
Brody smiled broadly. He closed the water canister and opened a second ration bar.
“Why?” Kitekh asked.
“Why what?” he replied as he bit into his second bar.
“Why did you involve my ship?” she said. “Why did you want Cataan’s Claw?”
“You know the answer to that, Kitekh,” he said.
“No,” she spat. “I don’t. What is your plan, Mr. Brody? You kidnapped a senator’s daughter, presumably to blackmail him into changing his anti-human stance. But you could have used any ship for this madness. Why did you involve mine?”
Brody didn’t speak immediately. He swallowed the food in his mouth and stared for a moment. His expression grew dark.
“It’s Idrib Mol’s daughter we kidnapped, Kitekh,” he said. “Of course we chose your ship to pull it off.”
“Why!” she shouted.
“Because you hate him as much as we do,” he said. “Maybe more. Come on, Kitekh. Think about what he did to your family, to you. Join us. We can help you get the revenge you’ve been seeking.”
Kitekh’s eyes popped open wide. Involuntarily, she took a step back. Shinzaa bristled, rolling her shoulders forward and glaring at Brody.
“You can restore your family’s reputation, Kitekh,” Brody continued. “We know you’ve sought Honor Vengeance for years. We can deliver it.”
Kitekh’s surprise turned sour. She leaned forward and snarled.
“You’re a terrorist, Jim Brody,” she said. “A coward and a criminal. You know nothing about honor. Or how to get it.”
She turned and strode from the cell. Shinzaa joined her.
“‘Terrorist’ is another word for ‘freedom fighter,’ Kitekh!” Brody called after her. “‘Honor’ is attributed by winners. Join us, and you’ll win, Kitekh. We have what you need!”
She stopped halfway across the cargo hold. Mustering all her control, she turned back.
“You have nothing,” she said. “Least of all honor to give or to restore. You are lower than dung, and I will see to it you meet justice.”
She resumed her departure. Brody continued to bait her, but she ignored him. If she listened to another word, she would be unable to resist carving him into tiny pieces.
And she needed him alive if she was going to save her crew.
Gwen waited breathlessly as the terrorists approached. She hid around the bend from the corridor they traveled. The security feed, still patched to her comms unit, showed them moving towards her position. If they were headed back to their shuttle, they should pass her, enabling her to ambush them from behind.
If they were going somewhere else, she would have to improvise.
Hell, she was going to have to improvise no matter what happened. The two black Graur had rejoined the humans. The tabby was gone, but Gwen didn’t see how that improved her odds much. Two Graur were more than enough challenge for a single human. The odds were four-to-one against her. She had only two things going for her – surprise, and the fact that she was almost certainly a better shot than any of her quarry. If she could get the jump on them, she might be able to pull this off.
Maybe the Graur were being duped. Maybe they didn’t know they were in with Manifest Destiny. If she could get the felinoids to abandon the humans, she only had to bring in two people. She could handle that.
She watched the feed. The four of them were moving quickly. They were clearly in a hurry, probably wanted to get the hell off the station and back to their ship. One of the humans weaved unsteadily on his feet, though. The slight one looked as though he weren’t feeling well. The grainy video didn’t offer any more details, but Gwen had seen enough concussions in her career to suspect he’d taken a blow to the head.
Maybe something had gone wrong when they massacred the Elohim. That would serve the fiendish, little bastard right.
It also improved the odds in her favor. If one of the terrorists was effectively incapacitated, she would have to deal o
nly with the Graur and the bald human.
She returned her focus to her comms unit. They were only a few paces from her position. Despite her training, she held her breath. Her muscles tensed. She brought her beamer to the ready. She inched back, away from the junction, hoping, in their haste, they wouldn’t glance in her direction.
They were almost upon her. Three more strides. Two. One.
The big, male Graur breezed past her, his mane waving. He stalked the corridor with purpose, as though he planned to murder whomever was at the end of it. He had no eyes for Gwen, cruising past without turning his head or slowing his pace.
The two humans came next, a few paces behind. The bald one turned his head to the right to check the corridor opposite Gwen. The concussed one looked left, in Gwen’s direction, but his eyes were unfocused. If he saw her, it didn’t register with him.
The female Graur brought up the rear, checking over her shoulder to make certain they weren’t being followed. When she resumed watching forward, she turned towards the right, away from Gwen.
A second later, they were past.
Gwen watched the feed in her comms unit, to make sure they were all facing front. When she saw that they were, she exhaled and stepped out into the corridor behind them. She spread her legs and took aim with her pistol, holding it in both hands.
“Freeze,” she said, before she could think better of it.
The quartet of criminals whirled in her direction. The Graur looked confused at first. But when they saw she had a beamer leveled at them, their expressions grew dark and dangerous. The female snarled.
“Who are you?” the male Graur asked.
“You’re all under arrest,” she said, ignoring him. “By authority of the Space Rangers.”
“On what charge?” the male said.
“Better put your toy away,” the female added, “before you lose the arm that’s holding it.”
“Gwen?” the bald human said.
Stunned silence fell like an avalanche over the corridor. No one moved. Gwen focused on the man who’d said her name. Recognition struck her heart like lightning. It couldn’t be!