The Vigilante Chronicles Omnibus
Page 41
She was getting eerily good at pretending to be human.
“Here,” she said finally. She tapped one little hatch on the side.
“Is that the…garbage dump?” Barnabas asked. “Garbage chute?”
“It’s always the garbage chute,” Shinigami replied cryptically. “Always. It’ll smell like ass, but it’ll get you where you need to go.”
“You know, I’m not even going to respond to that. How do we keep them from noticing us? Or shooting the ship as we set down?”
“Well, the space net incident gave me an idea. If we fly close enough, I can release some pucks with a signal transmitter attached. They’ll hover near the base and convince the people watching the screens that there’s a ship coming in to land at the bays. All the guns will swivel that way, and we will land elsewhere.”
“You’ve only explained how to tell them there’s something else there, not how to keep them from knowing we’re there.”
“We can move quite stealthily as long as we can take our time getting in there. Scanners rely on detecting various side effects of having a ship nearby. We’ll cloak those and bibbidi-bobbidi-boo, there we are.”
“Don’t bother looking that up,” Barnabas murmured to Gar. To Shinigami, he added, “This base is state of the art. For instance, if I remember correctly, the towers here… One second, let me enlarge this. Oh.” He blinked in surprise. “You’ve tagged the relevant weapons and surveillance schematics into the main ones so that I can just tap on them.”
“Yes. Paper can’t do that.”
“I see the point you’re making, but let’s move on.” Barnabas frowned at the schematics on the table.
“Here’s the other thing,” Shinigami pointed out. “The garbage system is very close to what I believe is the main control center.”
Barnabas chewed his lip. “There’s a chance we’re going to scare the crap out of some of the guards.’
“Eh.” Shinigami shrugged. “They work for a mercenary syndicate. Not like they think they’re guarding people who go around giving out puppies and hugs for a living.”
“I have to agree with her.” Gar looked at Barnabas. “This base isn’t usually inhabited. Anyone there came with the captains who chose to be here. We can’t do much more for them.”
“Crallus got in over his head,” Barnabas murmured. “After everyone seemed to ‘recognize’ my Torcellan disguise last time, I did some digging. It turns out that Crallus now has some sort of second-in-command who might actually be running the show. He just waltzed in and took over, apparently. So whoever he is—”
“His name is Uleq,” Shinigami informed him.
“’Uleq.’ You’re sure?”
“Who’s Uleq?” Gar asked.
“We’ve run into him before,” Barnabas replied darkly. “Killed his previous allies and ran off, and now he’s representing the Yennai Corporation?”
“He was probably always associated with them,” Shinigami surmised. “I’m guessing he took a brief detour to try something else and it blew up, and he took what he could and got out. He wasn’t ever going to go down with the ship.”
“He sounds wonderful.”
“Doesn’t he? So, do we have a plan?”
“Yes. Let’s get in there and take Uleq out.” Barnabas gave a grim smile. “Bethany Anne will be pleased, at least. Uleq. Sonofabitch! Well, two birds, I guess.”
Chapter Four
Crallus winced as he strode down the hallways of the base on Ur 5b. The Ur System was a particularly tumultuous one—a binary star system with a particularly noisy pair of stars. With the constant electronic noise from the stars, not to mention the heat that fried even mining equipment quickly, no race had bothered to settle here.
All the planets were gas giants, anyway. Conventional wisdom said that if anything managed to survive on those, it would make short work of all who tried to settle the place.
Ur’s fifth planet, however, had a series of moons, one of which was almost constantly shrouded in shade. It was here that Yennai Corporation had built a hideout for Crallus’ predecessor, and it was remote enough that Crallus had often found himself wondering where they had built their headquarters.
What was a step up from this? A base inside a black hole?
The Torcellan hurried ahead of him, hood up as always, and called over his shoulder. “We don’t have much time, you know.”
“How can we not have much time?” Crallus was annoyed. “You said no one would find us here.”
“I said it was extremely unlikely. I would also have said it was extremely unlikely that a single ship could take out several fleets of mercenary vessels.” The Torcellan pushed his hood back slightly to make sure that Crallus could see the absolute contempt on his face. “Now, I suppose there’s the possibility that all of your captains were entirely incompetent, as were the captains of Get’ruz Shipping, but I think it’s slightly more likely that this is a dangerous adversary.”
But only slightly, his tone clearly indicated. He kept up the pace as they hurried through the hallways.
“Since I do not wish to die here,” he continued, “I will personally oversee the maintenance and review of our various defensive systems.”
Crallus ground his teeth and tried to keep his silence, as he always did—but his temper was finally at a breaking point. They were being stalked by some creature out of a nightmare, after all. How much worse could it get if he pissed off the Torcellan?
“Why do you bother with us?” he snapped.
The Torcellan stopped and turned. “I beg your pardon?” His voice was icy.
“You hate us,” Crallus continued. “You treat us like dirt, so why are you hiding here with the dirt instead of back at your big fancy Yennai base? Why are you bothering to have us be a part of your organization if you think we’re so incompetent?”
His temper had been frayed to the breaking point for weeks now. He was tired, and he was in pain. First, he had lost three good ships on Devon, then Yennai had sent this Torcellan to keep tabs on him. He hadn’t even bothered to tell Crallus his name. Next, Fedden had shot him in an attempted coup—making him paradoxically Crallus’ favorite person in the syndicate, but the Torcellan had sent Fedden off to die for no good reason.
Hell, at least the kid had some balls. That was more than Crallus could say for some who had come with him. He was pretty sure they would lick his boots if he asked, which was ridiculous in a mercenary.
He didn’t like the way they looked at the Torcellan, either—like maybe he held the power and they should switch allegiance. They might have already done so, for all he knew. Maybe it was just a matter of time until he was shot again and dumped into space.
In other words, he didn’t particularly care what would happen if he voiced his questions.
The Torcellan, rather than becoming furious, appeared thoughtful as he studied Crallus.
“You question things,” he stated finally. It was a simple observation, and it seemed to hold no rancor. “The others don’t, but you do.”
“The others didn’t take over, either,” Crallus rumbled. He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Some people like following orders.”
“Yes,” the Torcellan murmured. His reply was quick enough that Crallus could tell he’d had the same thought. “Yes, they do. But not you.”
“No. Thing I liked about you lot was that you weren’t sticking your nose into our business all the damned time.”
“Why did you— Ah, yes. You took over from the last syndicate leader.”
“Jillintor.” Crallus could still remember the Brakalon, a weathered boulder of an alien who had been surprisingly easy to kill when all was said and done. Jillintor had lost his edge and led them into chaos. He had deserved to die.
However, Crallus was uncomfortably aware of the way things had been going recently. People might justifiably say the same about him. Fedden had, in fact. He and some of the captains had united and gone to face the Shinigami and its madman of a captain.
That was just a recipe for disaster.
Finally, the Torcellan ordered, “Follow me.”
Crallus, who had been lost in thought, rushed to catch up, and he barely made it into one of the conference rooms before the door closed. An automatic lock clicked.
“I don’t run the Yennai Corporation.” The Torcellan folded his hands in his sleeves and began to pace around the table in the center of the room.
Unsure of what to do, Crallus stood awkwardly. He moved out of the way as the Torcellan circled the room.
“And?” Crallus asked finally when it seemed like the Torcellan wasn’t going to say anything more.
The male shot him a sardonic smile. “I was considering how to explain. I am the second child. My elder sister is a quick learner and a sycophant, and my father was eager to make her his heir. He never made any secret of the fact that he preferred her.”
Crallus wanted to groan. This was nothing more than sibling rivalry, and he was caught in the middle. He wasn’t sure where the human Barnabas fit, but he wouldn’t be surprised to find that he had something to do with all of this.
The Torcellan’s voice was like acid. “My sister, however, is blind to the true nature of the threats we face. Both she and my father think the humans are nothing to bother ourselves with. They say the universe has seen empires rise and fall, and nothing ever changes the fact that business prevails.”
Crallus frowned. Then, wincing, he took a seat. He still wasn’t recovered from the bullet wound Fedden had bestowed. His attempt at fancy manners was over.
“They don’t understand the threat humans pose,” the Torcellan continued. His voice carried the resentment of someone who has made a point time and again, only to be ignored. “They never give up and they never back down, even when it would be prudent to do so. They’re damnably clever, they’re ambitious, they have some bizarre sense of morals they think everyone should follow, and they fight like demons. If we don’t stop them right now, they will spread over all of settled space, and we will have nothing left.”
Crallus considered this. He wasn’t used to thinking on such a scale. He had spent his life on various tiny ships, always aware of how small he was in comparison to the universe. He didn’t mind that, though. It meant no one really cared about him when push came to shove. If he carved out his little slice, no one would stop him unless he really went out of his way to piss them off.
That strategy had worked out pretty well until now. He didn’t want to think about the universe as a place waiting for one conqueror to come along and take everything, including the riches Crallus had accumulated over the years. They were his, dammit.
But he could see the wisdom of the Torcellan’s words. The humans had taken over Yoll, they had defeated vast fleets, and then they had come to a tiny planet in the middle of nowhere and taken that over, too. And they were expending resources to keep it under their rule.
“We aren’t going to win against the humans just by killing this one,” he offered finally.
The Torcellan, oddly, seemed pleased. He took a seat and leaned forward. Crallus realized that simply by discussing this, he’d made himself a sort of ally. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He still wasn’t even sure how he felt about the Torcellan. Something told him this male was a snake, untrustworthy to the core.
“But if we can kill one…” the Torcellan continued. “Just one, and most importantly, get the ship with the AI core, we will have a chance. We’ll have their passcodes, and we’ll have computational power far beyond anything we could hope to buy now.”
“Would you want to be their ally?” Crallus asked him. “They’ve allied themselves with other species.”
“With factions of other species,” the Torcellan snapped, “while the rest are forcibly silenced. No, the humans would turn on us in time. They wouldn’t like most of what the Yennai Corporation is involved in.” He gave a shrug and let out a sigh. “They might as well hate stars for the fact that light exists. There are always these types of industries, after all.”
You said they could change that, Crallus wanted to remind him. He remembered the Torcellan’s worry, and now he recognized the faint tension in his face.
The universe could change radically in the coming years, Crallus realized. Now that the Torcellan referred to the whole universe as if it were one cohesive object subject to massive forces, Crallus could see the truth of that. He couldn’t see it any other way.
Humanity might change the whole universe.
Unless someone dealt with them.
“You came here because you wanted to prove to your father that you were right,” he guessed.
To his surprise, the Torcellan laughed. He tipped his head back so that the hood fell from his shining white hair, and he laughed in a way that turned Crallus’ bones to ice.
“I suppose I could tell him,” the Torcellan admitted finally, “but I hadn’t intended to. After all, once I have the Shinigami, Yennai Corporation really won’t need my father at the helm, will it? Or my sister.” His face was as cold and hard as the void outside. “I really don’t care if they know I was right before they die.”
Chapter Five
Drakuz sat straight-backed in the sleek captain’s chair on the bridge of the YCS Jil and tried not to look bored.
Because the truth was, this was boring as hell. He had been glad when his dedicated service to the syndicate had been recognized by Crallus. A ship as fast and well-armed as the Jil was something he could never have afforded on his own. Also, Crallus’ favor meant Drakuz had fewer fees than the other captains, as well as his pick of the good jobs that came in.
Then, when the syndicate had withdrawn to the base on Ur 5b, Drakuz had been called in to fly patrols and protect Crallus. He had taken it seriously at the time. Doing this—establishing himself as the protector of the syndicate—might afford him an even cushier job flying patrols instead of going off on jobs.
Drakuz was a Shrillexian, so he liked fighting. But as you got older, all your old injuries seemed to multiply, and it got more and more difficult to keep up with the younger soldiers. A few years of flying patrols sounded like a nice reward for his service.
That was before he knew patrols could be so mind-numbingly boring. He contemplated stabbing himself in the eye with his knife, just to add some variety to the day.
“Something on the scanners, sir.” Madrelub, one of the newer Hieto recruits, turned expectantly in his chair to Drakuz.
“Check it out, I guess.” Debris. It was always debris. Madrelub frowned in consternation, and Drakuz remembered that he needed to act like a captain. “Old injury acting up,” he muttered gruffly, rotating one shoulder. That excuse tended to get the respect of the younger soldiers, all of whom found the idea of being a grizzled old veteran to be exciting. Something to look forward to.
Drakuz had thought the same thing when he was younger. Now he knew that the grizzled old veteran with the war injuries was just bad-tempered due to pain.
Still, there was no convincing any young male of that. They’d have to learn it on their own. He gave Madrelub a purposeful nod, and the Hieto swiveled back around and began to run diagnostics.
“It’s big,” he reported. “Two hundred meters by—that can’t be right. One moment, sir, running the diagnostics again. The distance keeps fluctuating.”
The proximity alerts shrieked, and the helmsman swore. There were shouts as the Jil took evasive action and the ship’s engines went into overdrive. The clamor only intensified when all of the screens went black and were replaced by an alien face.
It looked like a Torcellan, Drakuz thought. Pale, anyway. But those eyes weren’t quite Torcellan, and the hair definitely wasn’t Torcellan, and the teeth—
/> This was a human, wasn’t it?
“Hello,” the face said. Its voice echoed out of every speaker simultaneously.
“Who… Who the fuck are you?” Drakuz hoped his voice came across angry, but he had a feeling all that came through was his fear.
“I am Shinigami.” The voice echoed and slid through different pitches. The sound grated across Drakuz’s skin, and he hunched his shoulders. It instinctively reminded him of what he’d imagined the monsters sounded like when he had been little and afraid of the dark. “I am your worst nightmare.”
“Call the base!” Drakuz barked at the communications officer.
“I’m trying, it isn’t working!”
“Force the transmission through!”
The woman on the screen laughed. “Don’t waste your time. I control all your systems.” The image zoomed out until Drakuz could see her in the first mate’s chair of her bridge. She raised one hand, thumb and forefinger pressed together. “Goodbye.”
She snapped her fingers, and before their entire bridge went dark, they had just enough time to see that missiles had launched from her ship.
A moment later, the Jil was nothing more than debris.
“I really liked that,” Shinigami remarked. “The snap added something to it, I think.”
“Mmhmm.” Barnabas barely looked up as he strapped slim-fitting armor in place over a black undershirt and leggings.
“And overriding their communications first worked well. I don’t know how they saw us on their scanners, though.”
“Mmhmm.” Barnabas buckled the holsters into place and slid his pistols in carefully, smiling at their familiar weight. Knives went in the sheaths on his calves.
“And, of course, I got to see the type of transmissions they send for distress calls from Yennai ships, so we can use those if we need to later. Same encryption, same everything.”