“Good,” Harper replied. “We're going to need every one of them.”
Chapter 17
The corridor was deserted, exactly as Cooper had hoped. Hours of careful observation had identified the best way to Kelot's quarters, and there were some obvious holes in the deployment of the guards. Too obvious. Kelot might not have vast military experience, but he'd had time to study the Triplanetary doctrine manuals he'd given him, and wasn't foolish enough to give a potential enemy an opportunity to sneak up on him. He knew he was being watched. All he could do was trust to luck, or the willingness of the Guard Commander to listen.
Walpis and Wolmar were waiting in a safe hiding place a few corridors away, one he had no knowledge of beyond the vaguest details. The Corporal was experienced enough to find his own place, and the less he knew, the better. He still rated it as likely that he would end up back in a cell at the end of this enterprise. Or worse.
He saw his first guard as he turned a corner, standing at attention outside a door. At least he was getting a good opportunity to test their training, and he pulled out a ball bearing from his pocket, nimbly tossing it down the corridor, while reaching for his blowgun with the other hand. As he had hoped, the guard's eyes tracked the shining object along the floor for the split second he needed to get down into firing position and take the shot.
Just like he'd learned in basic training, the Neander's eyes rolled back and he collapsed softly to the ground. Getting a gun through a half-confident security screen was next to impossible, but a long piece of thin tubing could be explained away in a hundred different ways, and a few small feathered darts were easy enough to conceal.
He sprinted forward, glancing down to get a look at the guard so he could report him later, before hearing the sound of rifle bolts being pulled back behind him, an ostentatious noise deliberately designed to freeze him in his tracks. With a sigh, he raised his hands, turned around, and saw Kelot walking towards him, flanked by a pair of guards.
“Somehow I'd expected better from you, Ensign,” Kelot said.
Taking a deep breath, Cooper replied, “How is this conversation going to go? Are you going to give me a chance to give my side of the story, or are you just going to hand me back to the traitors on the Command Deck?”
Shaking his head, Kelot gestured for the guards to leave, and the two Neander snapped to attention and walked back down the corridor, returning to their guard station. Tapping a button to open a door, Kelot led the way into an empty room, a trio of sleeping bags dropped into a corner, a supply crate serving as a table in the middle. He stepped over to a drinks dispenser on the wall and threw a switch.
“I'm sure you could do with a cup of coffee,” he said. “Those maintenance conduits are cold, and as I understand it, you had a bath yesterday.”
Shivering at the memory of the icy water, Cooper accepted the drink, taking an experimental sip. He looked around the room, opting to lean on the wall out of sight of the door, while Kelot sat down on the crate, brushing a couple of empty ration packets away.
“This was Molpa's idea of acceptable barracks for my men,” he said. “What do you think?”
“I think he should be forced to live in this hole, and you should commandeer his cabin.”
A beaming smile on hits face, the Neander replied, “Your sense of humor is intact, at least. I'm going to guess that you didn't kill Oktu or Leuka. Unless they were Xandari agents, I can't think of any reason why you would murder them, and if they were, you'd have said something about it at the time.”
“They weren't. Oktu was a member of the Brotherhood...”
“I see,” he interrupted, raising an eyebrow.
“And Leuka sold us out to Morigna and her death squad. They rewarded her with a bullet in the brain.” Shaking his head, he replied, “I guess they don't want any witnesses. They still have my wife, and another man who helped us, Segna. I'd like to get them out.”
“Man,” Kelot said. “That's an interesting word. Is that how you consider us?”
“We've fought side by side. Under the skin, our genetic codes are damn near the same.” Rubbing his forehead, he added, “Swap our clothes and give you a haircut and shave, and you'd be able to walk down a corridor on Alamo without drawing attention. Aside from a few minor internal differences, we're the same.” Pausing, he added, “That isn't the main reason, though.”
“And what is?”
“We think alike. We're soldiers, Kelot, and we're both trying to do the best damn job we can to protect our people from those who would do them harm.”
“Aussketi and her lackeys claim that is you.”
“Aussketi killed Ghewon.”
His eyes widened, and he said, “What?”
“In cold blood, having framed me for the crime, luring me out of my cell with promises of a fair hearing, a fair trial.” Shaking his head, he replied, “I don't think I really believed her, but any chance of freedom was better than sitting in the cell and waiting to be executed.”
Frowning, he said, “Have you got proof of this?”
“I have an independent witness, a medical technician named Wolmar.”
Shaking his head, Kelot replied, “I was going to ask you about him. According to the latest version of the charges, you killed him in your desperate bid for escape. I suppose you will tell me that Morigna will make sure his death becomes a reality as soon as she catches him.”
“I am.”
“This doesn't make any sense. Morigna is a brutal, savage thug, but her one redeeming feature is her loyalty to her people. I don't see her working with the Xandari. As for Aussketi, she damn near died because of Lostok. Unless that was a really bold gamble, I don't buy that she was part of the same conspiracy.”
“Maybe there's something else going on. The Brotherhood...”
“Renegades and troublemakers, all of them.”
“They are convinced that there is a plan to force them back to work upon our arrival, to disperse them around the worlds so that they can't talk about the Confederation.” He paused, then said, “And I have proof that they aren't behind the sabotage, either.”
“Go on.”
“They're planning a mass escape. When the ship reaches Testament Station, hundreds of them will steal shuttles and spacesuits and get away.”
Kelot paused, then nodded, rising to his feet and walking to the wall, replying, “I'm not surprised. I've thought about it myself.”
“You have?”
“Of course I have. I had a wife, Ensign...”
“Gabe, for God's sake.”
“Fine. I had a family, but they died. We were being sent to establish a new colony, a strategic outpost, so they sent whole families out.” He smiled, then said, “To be honest, the eventual outcome was essentially the same. I ended up on a desolate planet, struggling to establish a civilized foothold. The only difference was that my wife died during the attack, and our daughter didn't last six months down on the planet.”
“I'm sorry.”
“Our people would have given them medical attention, proper shelter, decent food.” Staring at Cooper, or perhaps beyond him, he added, “I'll hate the Xandari until the day I die, and I will make them pay for what they have done. That doesn't mean I have any delusions about my own government.” He smiled, then said, “If I was twenty years younger, I'd probably have asked you for a job.”
“You would?”
“My people are just holding their own against the enemy, and have been doing little else for so long that I fear it is becoming a habit, that the idea of launching an offensive is an alien concept, something they would never risk. You're out to beat them, Gabe, and from what I've seen of you, I wouldn't bet on the Xandari in a million years. I don't just want them to die, I want them to be defeated, their empire smashed, their power broken, our flag flying over their homeworld. You might be able to give me that. My own
people certainly won't.”
He shook his head, turning to face Cooper, and said, “What exactly are you asking me to do? If it is just a question of getting you and these others to an airlock, get you back to Alamo, that won't be a problem.” Pausing for a second, he continued, “As for the others, I might be able to get them out as well, or at least put you into a position where you can do the job for yourself without interference.”
“We're going to need more than that.”
As if he hadn't heard him, Kelot continued, “We can run interference for you, organize a few distractions to divert the Proctors away. With a little luck, all of you will be safely over onto your ship in a matter of minutes.” He smiled, then said, “And if Aussketi thinks my troops are going to stop anyone from leaving the ship at Testament Station, she's going to be disappointed.”
“That isn't enough,” Cooper said, “and you know it. We can't leave a traitor in command of this ship, no matter what her motives may be. And Morigna is rounding up everyone looking at her the wrong way, throwing them into detention. The whole ship will be put on lock-down. No one will escape.” He sighed, and said, “The Brotherhood are right. Somehow I doubt that anyone on this ship who isn't Starborn will ever be permitted to return home. They'll see it as too much of a risk to the social order.”
Closing his eyes, Kelot suddenly looked decades older as he replied, “I thought you were going to ask me this.”
“Nothing has to be done today,” Cooper said. “You've got time to get everything ready, position your forces for the assault, sound out others in the officer ranks. As well has having a chance to speak to Wolmar. I'd like you to hear his testimony.”
With a long, deep sigh, the old Neander said, “It isn't that. You're asking me to go against my own people, to lead a revolt against the Starborn. Do you know what you are asking?”
“I'm asking you to save your people, and lead them to safety.”
“No,” he said. “You're making me the figurehead of a revolution. You don't seriously think that it will stop there, do you? Even if we end our journey at Testament Station, enough people will return home with news of what has happened to start an uprising back home. Maybe it's justified, maybe it's needed, but not now. Not in the middle of a war for our very survival as a species.”
“Dreams of liberty have their own timetable,” Cooper replied. “Sometimes you can't hold them back.” He stepped over to Kelot, and said, “There must have been revolts before.”
“A few. Either they were brutally suppressed, or the rebels fled into deep space. Set themselves up as raiders in alien territory.” Glancing up at Cooper, he said, “I was told not to mention any of that, but I don't suppose it matters.”
“What are the alternatives? Let your people be thrown into prison for crimes they didn't commit, so that they have no chance of ever seeing their family again, or watch as they are handed over to the Xandari. That's it. That's all that's on the table.”
“I never wanted this. None of it. I was a hydroponic farmer, Gabe. Oh, I did my time in the militia, everyone did, and when we were imprisoned I joined the underground, dreamed of the day we could free ourselves and return home.” He looked up at Cooper, tears forming in the old man's eyes, and continued, “It was meant to be so damn simple. Steal a starship, break through the lines, return home to a hero's welcome and a comfortable retirement. To hell with the party, I'd settle for the retirement.”
Placing his hand on Kelot's shoulder, Cooper said, “I don't think people like us get to retire.”
“You're a young man, Gabe. The Dark One hasn't touched you yet.”
“I'm a soldier. I'm on first-name terms with the bastard.” Closing his eyes, he said, “I can still see their faces. All of them. During my first combat assignment, almost my entire platoon was wiped out or captured, and the few survivors died in the next battle. Thirty-two people, and I was the only one left. Then a year later I went back, this time with a company, troops too green to know what they were doing, and they dropped like files, died by the dozen, and there was nothing I could do to save them.”
Kelot watched, horror on his face, as Cooper continued, “And the body count grows, higher and higher. My first commanding officer died as I watched, meters away, and I couldn't get to her in time. All my friends wiped out, killed.” With a sigh, he added, “When we left on this mission, I was back to thirty-two people. I'm down to twenty-one. Not just freeing you, but on other operations.” A thin smile on his face, he added, “I guess I'm in a high-risk occupation.”
“I'm sorry. I didn't know.”
“After that first mission, they gave me the chance to leave the service.” He held up his right hand, flexing the fingers, and said, “This isn't the hand I was born with. We've got excellent prosthetics, and it's almost as good as the original. Not quite, but almost. Losing a hand made me eligible for retirement, a disability pension.” Shaking his head, he continued, “Barbara and I talked about it. We were going to set up as free traders, in-system transports out at Saturn. My uncle owns an interstellar freighter, and we've got enough money saved up to give us a start.”
“What happened?” Kelot asked.
“Captain Marshall, Alamo's commander before Maggie Orlova, offered me a commission, an officer's rank, and I took it. Trained a new platoon, then went out again, put myself through it all over again, and I knew exactly what would happen when I agreed.”
“Then why the hell did you do it? If I'd been offered that sort of a life, I'd have taken it without a second thought.”
Cooper tugged at his worn, grimy jacket, and said, “This uniform means something. It means that I go out and face the darkness so that the people back home don't have to. I swore an oath that I would defend and protect them, and if that means I must keep going out into the night, keep watching my friends die, then that's the price I have to pay. I know, deep inside, that every soldier I have seen fall has defended a hundred, a thousand, ten thousand people back home.”
With a deep sigh, he continued, “Some of us aren't destined to die in our beds, Kelot. I'm living on borrowed time, and I know it. Odds are that some day a bullet, a blade, a suit malfunction, a hull breach will get me as well. I'll die, but I'll die knowing that I lived my life to protect and defend my people. I think that's worth it.”
“You're a stronger man than me, Gabe.”
“I've been through the fire more times. Either it burns you, or it hardens you.” Looking down at the Neander, sitting on the crate, he said, “We could go with the evacuation. Get Barbara and Segna away, and all of us could make our way over to Alamo. Senior Lieutenant Quinn has already made preparations to take at least a hundred and fifty evacuees, so we could probably take out your troops and their families as well.” Looking into his eyes, he asked, “Can you do it? Leave everyone behind, knowing what will happen? I can't, and I'm not one of your people.”
Shaking his head, he said, “Of course I can't. You know that.”
“I just wanted to make sure that you knew it as well. It's easy to forget, sometimes.”
“You'll have to forgive me,” Kelot said, once again rising to his feet. “I'm an old man, and I know I can be a little inflexible at times. You're right, of course. We've got to do something, got to stop them.”
“Alamo will help,” Cooper said. “And so will I.”
“I hope so. This is going to be a bloody, messy, ugly business, and it isn't going to end with the retaking of this ship. Once we start this, we're committed to a course that might be the end of us all.”
“You aren't the one who chose this. Aussketi and Morigna did.”
“That doesn't help.”
“No.”
Stepping to the door, Kelot said, “Come on. I want to meet Wolmar, record his testimony. Then we can get something to eat. I'll be damned if I plot mutiny on an empty stomach.”
As the Neander walked away, Coope
r paused and watched him for a moment. Kelot was back to his usual self, tall and proud, ready to face the nightmare that lay ahead. Maybe one day Cooper would forgive himself for putting him through it. One day.
Chapter 18
Orlova looked at the tactical display again, then across at the countdown clock. The scheduled arrival of Daedalus from Testament Station had come and gone. A thousand thoughts were running though her head, Nelyubov silently sharing them all as he looked at her over the holodesk. They'd only had limited intelligence to work with, had no way of scouting ahead. Sending such a small ship off on the mission had been an act of desperation in itself.
Not that disaster was the only possibility. The quantity of fuel they had needed would have daunted any Triplanetary shipyard, and it might simply be taking longer than they had hoped to make the arrangement. She glanced back up at the clock as it remorselessly ticked away the seconds, knowing that every one brought the Xandari closer. By now, she'd bet her year's pay that there was an enemy fleet transiting hendecaspace, silently moving in towards Alamo, ready to wipe them out.
Ausori was in no position to stop them. Cooper and Kelot were preparing to launch their attack, but that was still hours away, and even if the operation went perfectly, chaos would reign on the transport for days. That was preferable to the alternative, a ship actively working against them, but it still was far from helpful.
“Can I see you in your office, Captain?” Nelyubov asked.
“Of course,” she replied, frowning. “Cantrell, you have the bridge.”
“Aye, ma'am,” the tactical officer replied, repeating the liturgy. “I have the bridge.” The two of them walked through the side door, sitting on their respective sides of the desk, and Nelyubov leaned back in his chair.
“What is it?” she asked.
With a smile, he replied, “Actually, I don't have a thing to talk to you about. I just wanted to get you off the bridge. You were making everyone nervous.”
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