[Fallen Empire 00.5 - 03.0] Star Nomad Honor's Flight Starfall Station Starseers Last Command

by Lindsay Buroker

  “Think we can trust her?” Leonidas was asking.

  Alisa felt her heart speed up as adrenaline surged through her veins. Even though she had only activated the comm in one direction, she kept her breathing soft, afraid she might get caught listening if she made a noise.

  “No,” Alejandro said. “She’s made it clear her loyalties are to the Alliance.”

  A silent moment stretched, and Alisa wished Leonidas would say something to defend her. Alejandro’s words were true, but she had been helping them, hadn’t she? She had nearly been killed multiple times now because she had first taken Leonidas to that secret laboratory and then gone with him to the library to assist Alejandro. It seemed unfair of them to condemn her.

  “I would actually prefer it if she was simply motivated by money,” Alejandro said, “because I could pay her for her silence, but when she talks of fares, it’s usually an afterthought.” He sighed. “I’m uncomfortable with how much she knows.”

  “She doesn’t know any more than I do,” Leonidas said, his tone dry again. “Which isn’t much.”

  “I’m concerned that she’ll report what she does know to her government.”

  Alisa swallowed. Yes, she had been considering doing just that. The main reason she hadn’t done it was that they were on Perun, and she had no idea who she would report to from here. This didn’t seem like the type of information she should beam across the system to a customer service representative accessible through the virtual government site.

  “I suppose it would be terribly Machiavellian of me to ask if you would be willing to make her disappear.”

  If Alisa’s heart had been racing before, it nearly leaped out of her chest now. From Alejandro’s tone, it had almost sounded like a joke, but she could imagine the man watching Leonidas, seeing if he got an amenable reaction, in which case he might consider it more seriously…

  “It would be evil and villainous,” Leonidas said coldly.

  “I suppose so.” Alejandro sighed again. “I just feel that I can’t fail in this, and it’s making me paranoid. I don’t sleep. I lay awake all night and worry.”

  “Prescribe yourself something then,” Leonidas said, his voice still cold.

  Alisa managed a faint smile, pleased that he rejected the idea of doing something heinous to her, but it didn’t last. It was chilling to hear that Alejandro, a man wearing a monk’s robe, damn it, would even consider making her “disappear.” Were those robes even real? Had he sworn any oaths?

  Alejandro chuckled. “You’re a better man than I am, Colonel. All right, we’ll stay aboard, at least until I can do the library research I need to do.”

  “I’ll remind you that I have my own quest, Doctor. I don’t need you to pay my way here, nor do I appreciate you assuming that I’m yours to command.”

  Alisa silently cheered for him. She was glad he still sounded irked at Alejandro. Maybe he would decide to abandon the doctor and his mysterious quest and stay aboard, accepting her offer of employment.

  “I don’t assume that,” Alejandro said quietly. “But surely you must agree that my mission is of more importance than your personal quest. You have plenty of time for that later.”

  “Not if I get killed protecting your ass from people who should be my colleagues, not my enemies,” Leonidas said, his tone going from cold to hot. “And I still don’t know what your mission is, what you and your little artifact hope to accomplish.”

  “I’d think that should be obvious. The goal is to put the empire back together.”

  Leonidas snorted. “It’s not a disassembled assault rifle that can simply be reassembled.”

  “It can be carved out again, with the proper tools and the proper leader.”

  “And who might that be?”

  “You know exactly who I’m talking about.”

  “The boy? He’s ten. He can barely tie his shoes. And we don’t know if he’s alive.”

  “You know that’s not true,” Alejandro said quietly. “He already has the power to tie your shoes. From across the room. And I know as well as you do that the emperor got him out of the palace in time.”

  The emperor’s son? That had to be who they were talking about. The media had reported him dead. It wouldn’t shock her to find out that he had been squirreled away somehow, but how could Alejandro be so sure? Had he been there at the end? Seen the boy taken? And what was the tying shoes bit supposed to imply? That he had Starseer abilities? Alisa was hearing too damned much about those people these days.

  “He’s still ten,” Leonidas said. He did not sound surprised by anything Alejandro was saying. “Armies aren’t going to follow him.”

  “Not now, no, but in eight, ten more years? Our people will have had time to rebuild and gather more resources by then, and the system will have seen what a farce the so-called Tri-Suns Alliance is. It’ll be our time to move then, and I plan to do my part to facilitate that.”

  Alisa leaned back farther in her chair, her nerves calmer now that they weren’t talking about her, but the conversation was still chilling. It also occurred to her that Alejandro might start to think about getting rid of her again if he had any idea that she was listening in.

  “If you’re done here,” Leonidas said. “I’m going to bed.”

  “Yes, with your accelerated healing, you should be fine in a couple of days. Go ahead.”

  Alisa reached for the button that would turn off the sickbay comm—the last thing she needed was for Leonidas and his enhanced ears to walk by her cabin and hear her listening to Alejandro puttering around in there. But she paused as the men spoke again.

  “I wouldn’t get too attached to her if I were you,” Alejandro added. “I can understand not wanting to kill someone in cold blood, but if she proves herself willing to betray us for the sake of her Alliance…”

  “I’m not attached,” Leonidas said coolly.

  The hatch clanged as he shut it.

  Chapter 9

  Alisa sat at her desk and stared at the holodisplay of her netdisc. The brightness of the visual had dimmed since several minutes had passed since she had touched it. She’d heard the hatch to Leonidas’s cabin shut out in the corridor, followed by a second clang shortly after. Alejandro finishing up in sickbay and going to his room, perhaps. She hoped so. She had forgotten to get headache medicine and did not want to run into him if she went out for some. After what she had heard, she had no idea how she would look him in the eye without glaring daggers at him.

  The idea that he thought she was expendable chilled her. Even if Leonidas wouldn’t be Alejandro’s henchman, a doctor could easily kill someone. He would know just how to make it look like an accident. A simple injection from a needle, and she might never wake up.

  She shuddered, wondering if she should arrange his death first. But she had never done something like that, and she did not know if she could. The mere idea of murder made her stomach churn. She’d shot ships down in battle, and that had resulted in people’s deaths, but she was no cold-hearted killer. She liked to think she had a few shreds of honor, eavesdropping tendencies notwithstanding. She would have to hope that the mild-mannered Alejandro did not have the balls to kill someone himself.

  The only thing she had appreciated about listening to that conversation had been realizing that Leonidas was no cold-hearted assassin, either. She doubted she could trust him to choose her over Alejandro and the empire, if it ever came to that, but at least he wouldn’t stab her in the back. No, if he ever killed her, he would shoot her in the chest. She wished that were more comforting. She did not want him to kill her at all. She wanted him to be someone she could trust. An ally. A friend.

  She groaned and sat straighter in her chair, rubbing her eyes. With her mind spinning so much, she did not know how she would ever sleep, but she needed to try to find Beck first, regardless.

  When she swiped her hand through the holodisplay, the messages light flashed again. Someone had commed the Nomad twice, both shortly before she had returned. A l
ate hour to be making calls.

  She poked the number, bringing up a face she didn’t recognize, but that did not mean much, given that she had been gone for so many years. With short brown hair, old-fashioned spectacles, and a lean, almost gaunt face, the man was neither handsome nor memorable. He did wear an Alliance military jacket with major’s pins on the collar, and that got her attention.

  “Captain Marchenko,” the officer said. “I’m certain you’re busy, so I’ll keep this short. My name is Major Mladenovic, 14th Intelligence Division. I’m aware that you’ve recently returned home and found that your husband is dead and your daughter is missing. My condolences on your husband. His passing was regrettable.”

  Alisa shifted in her seat, uncomfortable with how much the man knew. Intelligence Division. Spies, essentially. She doubted the Perunese knew this man was down here on their planet. She couldn’t imagine that the empire was inviting Alliance officers down here with open arms.

  “I want you to know that even though the war is over,” Mladenovic continued, “and your contract was up even before it ended, you have friends in the Alliance army. Though we are a little concerned that you’ve taken on some imperial passengers with dubious credentials.”

  Alisa was glad she was listening to a recorded message and did not have to come up with a response immediately. The man’s knowledge of her affairs was unsettling, Alliance army jacket or not.

  “We would like to give you the opportunity to serve the Alliance once more, even as you’ve now phased into the civilian life. One of your passengers has an ancient and valuable artifact that you may or may not be aware of.”

  “No kidding,” Alisa muttered, as the major arched his eyebrows and stared directly at the camera pickup.

  “This artifact could ultimately be used against the Alliance. It doesn’t look threatening on the surface, but I’m told it could lead to something powerful and dangerous. I’m sure you can understand why we would prefer to have it in Alliance hands rather than grubby imperial paws.”

  “Everyone wants it in their hands,” Alisa said, rubbing her arms, remembering the way her hairs had stood up when the orb had been out of its box.

  “Since you are in a position to get it, I’d like to offer a trade with you. I can give you information on your daughter’s whereabouts if you’ll simply bring the artifact to me at the dawn of the first sun—6:43 in the morning, the computer tells me. Meet me at the Spaceman’s Wharf. It’s just outside of the base where I believe you’re docked.” He continued to stare into the camera—straight at her. “I urge you to come, Captain. We can’t let the imperials have anything that might let them gain back any control of the system. You remember what their rule was like. Please, do what’s right.”

  “Do what’s right?” she asked as the message ended, and blackness replaced his face. “Like coercing a woman into doing something illegal, such as say, stealing, by dangling information about her missing daughter in front of her for bait?”

  She closed her mouth, remembering that Leonidas’s cabin wasn’t far away and that he had that special hearing. But it was hard not to talk, to shout, to rail. First, the major had told her that she had friends, but then he’d implied he would only give her information if she stole something for him. What kind of friend was that? Damned superior officers. He doubtlessly only saw her as a pawn, someone to be manipulated for his gain. Maybe for the Alliance’s gain, too, and while she could support that, this was not right. Was he even acting on behalf of his superiors? Or had he somehow caught wind of the orb himself and was now trying to get it to further his own career?

  Alisa pushed herself to her feet. The captain’s cabin was larger than the other ones on the ship, but not so large that she could pace comfortably. She walked four steps, pushed off the wall, then walked the same steps in the opposite direction. She would be a fool to trust this major, and yet… he was an Alliance officer. Or at least he claimed to be. She eyed her computer, almost sitting back down to look him up, but then realized she wouldn’t have access to the Alliance military database from here. She probably couldn’t look him up.

  Besides, what would she do if she found out he was a legitimate officer? Do as he asked?

  It would be foolish, even if she could get away with it. She wouldn’t be that worried about dealing with Alejandro, but with Leonidas? After he had defended her, or at least been unwilling to assassinate her, she hated the idea of him thinking she was a traitor.

  “But I’m not a traitor,” she muttered. “They’ve openly admitted that they’re working for the empire.” And they had admitted in secret, unaware of her eavesdropping, that they wanted to see the emperor’s son returned to power, to see the empire returned to power.

  Alisa shuddered, almost feeling betrayed that they could want that. But they had clearly been people of power in that system, people who had been rewarded for their loyalty. Maybe they had no idea how rough things had been for the average subject—or for anyone who had a mind and wanted to speak it.

  She found herself slipping out of her cabin and padding down the corridor. She glanced warily at Leonidas’s hatch as she passed it, wishing he and his superior ears were down in the cargo hold with the chickens. At least Mica’s cabin was on the opposite end of the corridor. When Alisa reached it, she knocked softly. In the silence of the night, she could hear soft music through the hatch to Yumi’s cabin next door. With luck, she would be too busy meditating to press her ear to the wall and listen to a conversation. Not that Yumi was likely to care about orb plots. Alisa hadn’t gotten the impression that she was particularly loyal to one faction or another. She seemed like someone who stayed out of the way and pursued her own interests.

  Alisa had to knock three times before the hatch opened.

  “I’m not lighting any more candles today,” Mica grumbled, rubbing her eyes and squinting into the dim light of the corridor.

  “That’s good, because open flame shouldn’t be allowed on a spaceship.” Alisa waved toward the dark cabin. “Can I come in?”

  “Of course. I can see from the clock—” Mica glanced at a digital display embedded into the wall, “—that it’s well into social hour.”

  Ignoring the sarcasm, Alisa stepped inside. The clock promised it was only four hours until dawn and that major’s meeting time. She didn’t have long to make up her mind.

  “I need advice, Mica,” she said softly, closing the hatch behind her. Darkness fell upon them, broken only by the faint glow from the clock.

  “Does it require there be lights on?” Mica yawned and shambled back to the bunk set against the far wall.

  “Not necessarily, but I want to show you a message I got.”

  Mica fumbled on the desk, and a holodisplay popped up, providing more light for the room. “Go ahead.”

  “I also need to tell you about what happened to me today before the sewer incident.” Alisa patted her way to the chair at the desk, sat down, and explained the trip to her sister-in-law’s apartment. She hadn’t fully confided to Mica before about her family problems, but she was the only one on the Nomad that Alisa had known for more than a month. And she was Alliance. They had served together on the same ship for a year. They had some history together.

  “I’m sorry, Alisa.” Mica was sitting on her bunk, leaning against the wall with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. “I wish I could help, but I doubt I know any more about Starseers than you do. It’s too bad you couldn’t use the library, even though I doubt you would find anything useful in public records.”

  “I see you’re as optimistic as ever.”

  “What optimism I have in my reservoir gets divided by half for every hour after midnight it is.”

  “Right. Sorry to keep you up, but that’s not the end of my story.” Alisa took a breath and logged into the computer. She pulled up Major Mladenovic’s message and played it again.

  Mica listened in silence, waiting until it finished before she spoke. “He’s familiar. We had an intelligence unit on on
e of the ships I served on near the end of the war, and I think he might have been the commander some of the men spoke of, the one sending orders.”

  “Well, that answers one question. I was wondering if he was a legitimate Alliance officer or if he’d just beaten someone up for a jacket.”

  Mica snorted. “He doesn’t look that athletic.” She ruffled her hand through her short, tousled hair. “He looks like an asshole honestly. Most majors are.”

  “Guess it’s good I didn’t stay in long enough to get promoted to such a lofty rank.”

  “Definitely.”

  “Mica.” Alisa leaned forward. “Should I do it? What do you think? I don’t trust him, but if there’s even a chance that he could lead me to my daughter, how can I ignore it?”

  “The Intelligence Division probably knows more about the Starseers than anyone else in the army,” Mica said slowly, “but maybe it would be better to comm someone else. Don’t you have the comm numbers for any superior officers you liked that you served with? Maybe someone could point you to a friendly intel officer who could help.”

  “I suppose, but it would be days, if not weeks, to get a response here. The Perunese may even be blocking or editing outgoing communications. My sister-in-law had to physically mail a letter through a private service to get word to me about my husband.”

  “A problem that is easily solved by leaving the planet and taking me somewhere with more employment prospects.”