by Natalie Grey
The infiltration team of Jeltor, Gilwar, and Ferqar was advancing through side corridors, making for the bridge while Jeltor periodically established contact with the admiral.
After the first disturbance, she had not been so vulnerable. She had taken back command of the fleet with a single-minded intensity and was making fast, daring maneuvers that left the Brakalons scrambling to mount a defense.
With such danger, they hadn’t yet been able to mount any sort of offense, and Jeltor feared they might be running out of time. Sooner or later, someone would slip. They would fail to get out of the way in time.
He knew exactly what was going through Admiral Jeqwar’s head. He had been there, after all, with his conversion fighting his true thoughts and memories. He understood that although his questions to her were gently prying away the conversion, each round of questions spurred an instinctive defense and rush of loyalty.
In order to turn her back to their side, he would need to allow each rush of loyalty to burn itself out, leaving only the questions and doubt behind. So, between each round of questions, he had waited several minutes.
His fear was that, as the rushes of loyalty took over, the admiral might do something truly terrible. When Jeltor had been faced with the same trial, he hadn’t been hooked into an entire fleet. He’d been alone in his prison.
This one, he thought, had to count. This one had to finish it.
Admiral.
You again! Her voice sounded fearful. Where are you? My fighters can’t find you.
Yes, I see them. He wasn’t above fooling her. They’re looking for the wrong thing. As she dropped out of his mind for a moment, no doubt giving them orders to search for a different ship, he said gently, What are you afraid of when you hear my voice? You’re afraid of not supporting the Committee anymore…aren’t you?
Get out of my head! The voice was horrified, pleading. I’m doing what must be done.
Slow down and think for a moment, Jeltor advised her. You don’t want to, do you? What they did to you makes you not want to think. Because if you did, you’d want to know why you have to attack the Brakalons.
We need an army, she said at once.
Yes. They told me the same thing.
She had no answer to that.
So, tell me this, Jeltor asked her. Their small group walked past another group running in the opposite direction, and they saluted. His heart pounded, but the others did not recognize him. They say that we need an army, that the only way to outmaneuver the other species is by taking them over one by one.
It’s true, she said at once.
Admiral, it is no flattery to say that you are the greatest tactical mind in generations. If that were true…why wouldn’t you have thought it, yourself?
There was a long silence.
Boom, Shinigami said softly in Jeltor’s mind.
You were listening?
Of course. Every time you start talking to her, she starts firing like crazy and then it trails off. I’ll try to give the Brakalon fleet a heads up.
Smart.
You literally just described an AI.
Jeltor managed a trembling smile. Since this had begun, he’d been gripped by fear.
They had made their way through two more turns and were approaching the bridge when Admiral Jeqwar spoke again. Her voice was hushed and fearful.
Jeltor, I am afraid to think of it. Me! I am afraid to think.
Jeltor tried to come up with something inspirational to say, something that would stir her to battle, and then he realized that was not what she needed. I am here, he told her. I was afraid, too. Step through the fear. Think the thoughts it doesn’t want you to think. I am here.
She said nothing for a long time and their group hesitated, out of sight of the bridge doors. They couldn’t stand for much longer without attracting attention.
Admiral—
They will kill me when they see that I have turned back. Her voice was tight. Have I—did I kill any of the Brakalons? She seemed to remember, then. I did. All gods forgive me, I took out their rescue ships.
Right now you must focus on ending this battle, Jeltor said urgently. Can you send a message to the captains without the senators on board knowing?
Better, she said after a moment, and there was a flash of the commander she had been, capable and confident. I can shut down their ships remotely and broadcast a message about what is going on. But Senator Torsen and her thugs—
Leave that to us, Jeltor said. To the other two, he said quietly, “We need to move now.”
They burst out of the shadows and began running for the doors to the bridge. The senator’s personal guard leapt into action at once, leveling their rifles.
“Stop!”
“Urgent message for the senator!” Jeltor called back. He wasn’t sure this would work, but he didn’t really mind either way. Of all the people on this ship, he wouldn’t mind killing these two. They were trying to prevent any news from getting onto the bridge.
“What message?” one of the guards called suspiciously. “Slow down and approach with your hands up or we will take this as a sign of aggression.”
I need you on the bridge now! Admiral Jeqwar told Jeltor.
“Aggression it is, I guess,” Jeltor murmured.
Gilwar gave a snort.
All three raised their weapons and shot in unison. Jeltor used a technique he’d seen Shinigami and Barnabas use and brought his back leg up to kick out as he reached the door. The force of his kick lifted one of the guards and threw him against the metal.
Or it would have. Shinigami obligingly forced the doors open at the correct moment, and the guard went sailing into the room.
The lights dimmed and a voice boomed out, projected to the whole fleet.
“The senators aboard your ships are traitors. There is no reason to attack the Brakalon fleet. I have been freed from their control and tell you to seize each one aboard their ships. Evidence will be sent to the bridge of each ship.”
“Shut off that message!” Senator Torsen screamed.
But she had been right to worry. The Jotuns on the bridge turned, stunned, to where the admiral had forcibly taken command of the fleet and decommissioned all the guns.
“Just as Jeltor was taken captive by rogue agents in the government, so was I,” she told them. “There, my mind was altered to produce loyalty to a rogue faction of our government. They sought to take your service and turn it to their own ends!”
“If you won’t do it, I’ll do it myself!” Senator Torsen grabbed a gun from one of her personal guards and leveled it at the admiral’s tank. “Traitor! I knew you were wavering.”
She didn’t get the chance to shoot.
“Bridge left shoots!” one of the commanders yelled. “Bridge right, duck!”
Those on the right of the bridge dropped to the floor as those on the left pulled out their sidearms and shot. Sensory panels exploded across the room, and in the center of it, the senator and her guards were caught in the fire of dozens of weapons.
When the echoes died down, there was a long pause.
“Well done,” the admiral said drily. “But next time let’s not destroy quite so much equipment, shall we?”
There was a laugh and a ragged cheer, and Jeltor felt the tension in his body relax. He floated happily in his tank.
I’ll tell Barnabas, Shinigami said. A moment later, she added, Actually, do you three want to stay there? Barnabas and I have a rabbit to catch.
Eh? Gilwar asked.
Seconded, Ferqar said. I’m confused.
Qarwit and his personal guard saw what happened on the surface and what happened here, Shinigami reported, with relish. They’re running.
We’ll stay here, Jeltor said after checking with the others. Good hunting.
Thank you, Shinigami said. I’ll make a highlights reel, don’t worry.
Chapter Thirty-Three
The Shinigami was racing through the darkness when Barnabas made his way down to the b
rig.
Grisor turned to stare at him, and Barnabas didn’t have to know Jotun mannerisms to feel the hatred emanating from the senator.
“Did you think solitude would turn me?” he asked viciously. “I am as devoted to my cause as I ever was.”
“That’s nice,” Barnabas said blandly. “Did you know that Qarwit took over in your absence?”
“I instructed that he should,” Grisor said stiffly. “If you hope to make me turn on him out of jealousy, you will be sadly disappointed.”
“You really don’t know me at all.” Barnabas leaned in the doorway, arms crossed. “No, you see, I wasn’t looking for anything from you. I just came here to give you some facts.”
Grisor paused in his pacing. There was wariness in his thoughts now, piercing the absolute certainty he’d had before.
“The Jotun people will support me,” he asserted finally. Barnabas had seen his assessment: that the Jotun people must know about the Committee by now.
“Oh, that’s good to hear,” Barnabas commented. “For you, I mean. I personally doubt it, but I guess we’ll see what happens when they find out, won’t we?”
There was fear in Grisor’s mind now. “What have you done?” he asked, his voice thick with anger.
“Oh, I hardly think you should be allowed to get angry on that score. Do you?” Barnabas could feel his own anger beginning to stir. “You’re the one who abducted civilians, naval captains, and Lord only knows how many of your own species and others, to torture them into compliance. You’re the one who made plans to forcibly take over other planets. I don’t think you get to ask me what I’ve done, as if I’ve gone and done something rash; something ruinous.”
You’re getting poetic, Shinigami commented.
I like words, so sue me. I deserve some dramatic flair now and again.
Uh-huh.
“Qarwit knew there wasn’t much time,” Barnabas said. “He did something quite clever, really. He abducted the admiral’s personal aide, Gorsik. Once converted, Gorsik was able to lure the admiral into a trap as well, and they set off for Kordinev at once. Of course, when they got there...” He allowed himself a chuckle. “They found out that all of the captives on the ground were already free, and not only that, the Brakalons had a fleet! Who knew?”
Pure shock came from Grisor. “You’re joking.”
“I assure you, I am not.” Barnabas offered a small olive branch. “It was a surprise to me, too.”
Grisor seemed very far from appreciative. “Get on with it, then. The fleet took losses?”
“Oh, no.” Barnabas was chuckling now. “No, it turns out that Jeltor actually shed his conversion, so he was one of the ones who took out a strike team on the ground, and then he sneaked aboard the flagship and un-converted the admiral, so there were only a couple of ships lost on either side. Whoever the senator was on the flagship, she’s dead, and her guards, and a few of the senators on the other ships…and the Committee’s files have all been sent to the Senate while I take you back to stand trial.”
Grisor stared at him.
“That was it,” Barnabas finished. “Qarwit got away, so you’re probably going to take the fall for the invasion—which is fair, really, since you did plan it. Your technology has been destroyed. Only the results of the experimentation have been kept, so no one can rebuild it. You spent decades on this, didn’t you? Now it’s all gone.”
He gave a smile, pushed himself away from the door, and headed away.
He had gotten five steps before he won his bet with Shinigami.
“Wait! What if I knew where Qarwit went?”
Ha-Ha! Barnabas was triumphant. I told you he had no loyalty to anyone.
Earlier, you said that people could be honorable and do dishonorable things!
Sometimes. Sometimes they’re cowardly little shits.
It’s your fault for confusing me with organic illogic.
Mmhmm. Barnabas strolled back to the door and peered at Grisor. “How would that help me?” he asked.
“How would it— I planned the invasion, but he carried it out!” Grisor was practically spitting nails, or would have been if he’d had a mouth. “They’ll hang me out to dry, but he should pay too.”
I hate this kind of person, Barnabas told Shinigami wearily. If they suffer, everyone else has to as well.
To Grisor, he said, “I don’t know. I’m willing to see you hang for it. Seems like you want this more than I do.”
“You hate letting people get away!” Grisor was defiant. “I know you do, don’t pretend. And I don’t want much. I’ll tell you everything—as long as you don’t let them give me the death penalty.”
Barnabas stared at him for a long moment. There was no resolve left in Grisor, no principle or even the memory of it. He was all desperation, and he was going to tell the truth.
“All right,” Barnabas agreed easily. “Where’s Qarwit?”
“You won’t let them give me the death penalty?”
“I won’t let them give you the death penalty.”
Grisor sagged with relief. Barnabas thought that if he were human, he might have wet himself. “Thank all the gods. Qarwit is on a ship shuttling between two moons.” He turned and projected the coordinates on the wall. “There’s extensive interference from the sun and the nebula, so it’s almost impossible to find, and the ship is stocked for years. He’ll be able to hide out until long after people have stopped looking for him, and then he’ll have the money to go start a new life.” He sounded resentful.
“You always knew you might fail,” Barnabas said. He waited.
“Yes,” Grisor admitted finally.
“You feel like that money should be yours.”
“Yes.”
“Mmm. Well, since I can tell you told me the truth, we’ll go take care of Qarwit. In fact, we’ll do what you want to do to him for failing you. We’ll kill him.”
Grisor sensed the danger. He looked up.
“Then we’ll take you back to stand trial,” Barnabas said. “And you’ll take whatever punishment they give you.”
“You promised me!” Grisor yelled.
“I don’t make bargains with people like you,” Barnabas told him. He shook his head. “And I will not interfere in the Jotun process of Justice.” He turned to leave, then stopped. “Do you know,” he said conversationally, “it might not be a bad idea to let you live. Let you live with your failure, knowing that the Jotuns didn’t support you after all. That might not be a bad idea at all.”
He was smiling as he left the brig.
The coordinates Grisor had provided lay not too far from Jotuna, so it was only a matter of hours before the Shinigami reached Qarwit’s ship. In that time, Barnabas ate, showered, and changed his clothes. Then he changed his clothes again.
Then he changed into a loose-fitting black outfit and did every martial arts form he knew. When he was finished, he showered again and re-dressed himself in a brown suit that complimented his coloring. He was fastidious about the fit, the lay of his shirt, and the part in his hair.
Shinigami, meanwhile, sent word that the Jotun Navy and Senate had put aside their differences long enough to seize every known member of the Committee, freeze their assets, and lock down their properties, guards and all. All technology found was confirmed to have been destroyed at once.
None of it calmed him.
He found himself wishing he had someone to talk to, but when he thought about just who he wished were there, any shred of calm evaporated.
So he paced.
Finally, there was a knock at his door, and it slid open to reveal Shinigami. She was wearing a positively restrained outfit of jeans and a black blouse.
“We’re coming up on his ship,” she told him gravely. “I thought you might like company for your walk to the bridge.”
“Am I being as obvious as that?” Barnabas joked. He grabbed his suit jacket and put it on as he accompanied her out. “Thank you,” he added, a few moments later.
�
�Anytime.” She looked at him curiously. “Why are you so nervous about this one? This will tie it all up in a neat bow.”
Barnabas only nodded.
Shinigami looked annoyed for a moment, but then her face cleared. “Do you…do you not know why you’re anxious?”
Barnabas gave her a quiet nod.
“Man, humans are weird.”
“You’re telling me.”
Shinigami laughed then. “Well, whatever’s going on in your head, boss-man, I’m glad to have run this mission with you. I don’t think anyone else could have tracked them down quite like you did.”
The doors to the bridge slid open, and Barnabas came in to find Tafa and Gar already in their seats. They nodded to him.
“You look nice,” Tafa told him.
“Thank you.” Barnabas sat in the captain’s chair. “What am I—ah, I see it, now.” In the static, he was able to see the faint image of a ship.
“Yes,” Shinigami said, taking her place. “Even our scanners have trouble with it, but not so much that we can’t shoot them down—if that’s still the plan.”
“It’s still the plan.” Barnabas wrapped his fingers around the arms of his chair and considered. “I’d like to do it.”
Shinigami blinked in surprised but she nodded, and a moment later, a control panel rose out of the floor.
“Press the button when you’re ready,” she instructed. “We’re already locked on to its trajectory. We can barely see it…and it shouldn’t be able to see us at all.”
Barnabas lifted his hand and paused. Part of him thought he should bring Qarwit back to stand trial, but part of him recognized just how dangerous the Jotun male was. Outmaneuvered, lacking critical resources, he had nonetheless stepped out of the shadows and confidently ordered an entire fleet to go take over the Brakalon homeworld. When opportunity came for him, he had not wavered.
Instead, he had ordered death, destruction, and slavery—and now he had the remaining prototypes with him on that ship. Barnabas had no doubt about that, while Grisor argued and pleaded for his life, betraying himself and his cause, Qarwit would play the reformed senator and escape to try the same thing over again.