“No, but I have reason to believe that factions may be moving against me.”
“Which factions?”
I gave him the deadpan stare I knew he was familiar with. He sighed in defeat.
“Very well, Commander. I’ve done what I could, with what I’ve been given. You may be interested to know the weapon used against you was a modified DPW 980. We found it several hundred metres from you, along the adjacent dry dock.”
“A DonCrest weapon?”
“It’s fairly common in Eridani,” he said, reading from his tablet, “the 980 is primarily marketed as a sports hunting rifle, used by Tyrillian huntsmen mostly.”
“Modified how?” asked Kekkin.
“Overcharged capacitors, enhanced optical sights, custom grip.”
“You tried any local weapon modders?” I asked.
“A few. Most won’t even talk to us, they think we were trying to bust them.”
“Let me guess, nothing?”
“Nothing. Anyone could have done those mods.”
“Okay, thanks anyway,” I said, indicating the door. Kekkin opened it for him and gave him a vicious smile. Killian nodded and left, keeping as far away from Kekkin as he could.
When we were alone, Kekkin stood at the foot of my bed and stared at me.
“You have a lead? Warrior was not informed.” He looked annoyed.
“I was keeping it between old man Hieron, Maxine and me…”
“You don’t trust warrior?”
“I do. I just didn’t want you getting angry and storming after every possible lead we stumbled across.”
He looked about to say something, then changed his mind. He looked chastened, having remembered his earlier outbursts when I told him about Jalabir and the Corporates.
“Warrior sees wisdom in this.”
“Don’t worry, I want you on the takedown team on this.”
“Rest of Naga Team would also want in.”
“Of course, so will Crege.”
Kekkin nodded to himself.
“How is the training of our embarked troop detachment going?” I said, eager to change the topic. Hieron was still working on the lead, but assured me he would have something concrete soon. I just had to keep the troops busy before they tore the station apart themselves.
Kekkin straightened and reported his progress. “Warriors are veterans of the Ambrose University battle and the docking sphere. Disciplined fighters. Need to keep that edge. Numbers bolstered by new recruits from Protectorate, mostly Eridanian human, Garz’a and Orlii mix of local population. Several Frikk. Thirty-something recruits are frontiersmen or nomads. Like naga-zak. Worst soldiers to train. All have their own way of fighting. No good. Stubborn.”
I laughed. “Yeah, that’s us.”
“All up, have two hundred twenty warriors. Soon to be warriors.”
“How have you got them organised?”
“Thirty-two six-man fire teams, Corporals leading. Sergeant per squad of two teams. Junior officer supporting two squads each.”
“Any of them give you any grief, taking orders from a First Sergeant?”
“Couple.” He gave me a fierce grin. I had to chuckle.
“They recovering from their wounds?”
“No permanent damage.”
“You really should have taken that commission, Kekkin.”
“No, sir. Warrior really shouldn’t have. Handful of troops left, haven’t decided on placement. Looking for leaders. Cohen is one of them. Wanted to make officer, but too young. Want to see how he goes with a command of his own before making it permanent.”
“I trust your judgement on that. We’ve both seen him fight, and lead. Let’s see how he adapts to the new technology?”
He nodded.
“Do any have experience fighting from space?” I asked.
“Not like a Primarch Star Marine.”
I grinned at him. “Not many others are, Kekkin.”
“What skills, in particular, are you referring to?”
“The way I see this force being used is for securing berths at any alien facilities we encounter, so they’ll need to be comfortable using armoured space suits. Just before…I got shot…I was in talks with Protectorate procurement trying to secure some Valenvaard Industries tactical suits.”
“The D series?” said Kekkin.
“Is that the new one? Aerogel laminated inner lining?”
He nodded, looking impressed. “Not bad. The VI-D’s are lightweight, easy to train in. Not as sturdy as an M4 MAEL, but cheaper. The model 80 has anchor points for the PAT-9 exo-suit.”
“Really? I’ll put it to the bean counters. See what they can come up with.”
“Been meaning to ask – Protectorate is spending a lot of credits on this ship.”
“You want to know what kind of strings are attached?”
He nodded.
“I do, too. So far all I’ve gotten out of Jalabir is platitudes about recruitment increases and reiterating what I said about the Ghantri threat. Verbatim.”
“Warrior does not trust Orlii.”
“I think I do. I think I understand his motives, but I am aware that he is definitely not keeping me informed of the whole picture. My eyes are open.”
I said this last while pointing to my hairless, synth-skin coated chest.
“Warrior will watch like galab.”
“I have another job for you. You’re probably not going to like it, and I won’t mind if you delegate it to other Naga Team members. We’ve been assigned a Policy Officer by the Admiralty. Admiral Stirges, to be precise.”
“If Stirges and Jalabir fought duel, don’t know which one warrior would want to win.”
“You ever had to deal with a Policy Officer before?”
He shook his head. “Fleet problem.”
“Me neither. What do you know about them?”
“Kak. First sign of trouble, toss them out of airlock.”
I laughed. “The galaxy would be a much simpler place if the Garz’a were in charge, wouldn’t it?”
He gave me a look that said he disagreed. “Simple, maybe. Peaceful, not so much. Not as advanced.”
“We’re hardly touched by peace, and many of the ‘advanced’ people we deal with even here, in the Inner System worlds, are despicable.”
“Not much faith in galactic society? You sound like Nomad.”
“I’m just a realist. So anyway, Lieutenant Reza’k will be reporting to you tomorrow afternoon. Show her to her quarters, take her around the accessible parts of the ship, make sure she gets familiar with our systems.”
“She?”
“There are two things you’ll need to know about Reza’k – she’s Garz’a and she’s a telepath. She’ll be doubling as our diplomatic advisor.”
“Diplomatic? A Garz’a goiki?”
“Any first contact we make will benefit from telepathic intelligence, I’ve been told. I’m not all that conversant with how telepathy works, or how effective it is, but Zoe tells me Stirges is right about that, at least.”
“The first female Garz’a we get, and she can read our minds?”
“I don’t want you and Crege getting into any duels over her, am I clear?”
I wasn’t sure if the look he gave me was because he was affronted I would consider it, or because he just realised he would have some competition.
30.
Osiris’ lead panned out. Hieron tracked the account through several transactions preceding the assassination attempt to a modest apartment overlooking an artificial lake in one of the Spars of Collumus Station. As a courtesy, I informed Lt. Killian of our intention to raid the apartment right before I sent Naga Team in to catch the sole occupant. Rego fed me a drone feed of the raid. It was expertly done, only a handful of shots fired. Most importantly, no casualties.
The team found a full workshop inside devoted to weapon maintenance and modification, several nanite printers loaded with dozens of covert gadget designs, and a cupboard loaded with sever
al people’s worth of identity kits.
The suspect, a man named Koren Kegori, was a known bounty hunter and mercenary. When I turned his name over to Killian, he obliged by providing a dossier on him crammed full of juicy details – pending murder charges, failed piracy cases, illegal modification charges and an animal cruelty suit filed against him.
“Animal cruelty?” I asked him, face to face over a wide steel table. Secured to the deck with alloy cords that not even his augmented cyber-arms could pull free, he sneered at me.
“Kicked some Monarchist’s dog once. In my youth.”
“You’ve certainly worked your way up through the douchebag hierarchy since.”
“Go float yourself.”
Kekkin, standing ominously behind him, whacked the back of his head so hard he smashed his head on the table. A tooth skidded across the steel surface to rest in front of me. Geko, standing off to the side with a sidearm in his hand, couldn’t contain a quickly stifled laugh.
When Kegori composed himself, I continued.
“You know why you’re here, don’t you?”
He tried to get a look at Kekkin, but his restraints wouldn’t let him.
“Eye’s front, bezak,” said the burly Garz’a.
Kegori faced me again, nodded quickly.
“What I can’t get,” he said, “is why you’re here.”
I gave him a dry smile. “Someone didn’t do their homework. You’re not the only one augmented.”
“Sub-dermal armour?” he said, shaking his head, “Knew I should have gone for a head shot.”
“We’re not here to discuss our modifications. Nor your modus operandi. We’re here to discuss your motivations.”
“What motivates everyone in Eridani?”
“Credits.”
He flashed me a toothless grin.
“Who was paying?”
He gave me a shrug, which earned him a second wallop by Kekkin. This time, he left a bloody smear on the polished surface. A maddening cackle burbled forth from his bloodied mouth.
“Beat me up all you want. Been roughed up plenty, before.”
He spat blood onto the table. Kekkin pulled back for another hit, but I raised my hand. Kegori barely winced.
“You know what nano-proliferation does?”
He shrugged.
I placed both of my hands on the table, focusing my attention on the spatters of blood before me. I sent my tiny minions out across the surface, imperceptible to the naked eye. Their effect, however, was very perceptible.
Kegori’s eyes went wide when the first few droplets of blood began to fizzle, then evaporate. My reach extended across the table, enveloping the blood in a slowly expanding wave of nanites. As the bubbling blood vaporised, I nodded to Kekkin.
“Closer,” I said. Kekkin shoved the struggling Kegori forward so that his face was touching the pool of blood. His eyes went wider still as the wave of nanites boiled away his blood, slowly sizzling towards his face. He struggled, pulling against his restraints and Kekkin’s grip. Both began to grunt with the effort.
When the nanites were inches from his face he began to scream.
“Stop! Stop!” he cried, spittle and blood flying from his broken mouth.
At a nod from me, Kekkin let him up.
“Ah, fuck! What the fuck?” Kegori was shaking his head back and forth.
“Who was paying, Kegori?” I repeated.
“Some Corporate floater! Didn’t give me a name.”
“Which Corporation?”
“He never told me.”
“How did you know he was Corporate?”
“The attitude, the threads, the muscle.”
“Come on, Kegori,” I said, slapping the now dry table. He flinched. “You’re a career criminal. You know how to find out about your client. Don’t tell me you didn’t sniff around.”
He was shaking his head, as he opened his mouth I let an arc of electricity snap between my upraised palms. He jumped and recoiled.
“Okay, okay! Yeah, I poked around. Nearly got killed doing so. Got a tag on his shuttle, bribed a station official to put a trace on it.”
“And?”
“The shuttle belonged to the Blade of Xerxes. This big organo-ship parked out near one of the moons of Baris Doon.”
My blood ran cold, I had trouble listening to what was being said as Kegori rattle off guesses about which moon the ship was near. He was prattling, offering as much information as he could offload. My hands felt clammy and my mouth was suddenly as dry as sand.
“Commander?”
“Huh?” I said. I realised that Kekkin was asking me something.
“I said is that familiar to you?”
“You could say that,” I managed, trying to swallow.
Kegori was looking at me in a near panic. “I…I told you what I know, right? I did what you asked. I…I…” he stammered.
“Get him out of here,” I said to Kekkin. I stood to leave, my head swimming. I had to put my hand out to steady myself.
I could hear Geko asking about me, his voice sounding like it was coming from down a long tunnel. I waived away helping hands and made my way out of the cell. I kept going, head down and breathing quick, shallow puffs. I didn’t stop until I was outside, the artificial breeze caressing my clammy skin. I closed my eyes and let the sensation pass, focusing on my breathing.
It was several long minutes later that I realised I wasn’t alone. I opened my eyes and saw Zoe before me. She’d been in an adjacent room monitoring the exchange. Worry was clear on her features, an emotion I had elicited from her too much these last few months, I bet.
“Sorry.” was all I could say.
“Don’t be,” she said, “Take your time.”
“The new heart helps. Calmed me down once I was aware of it again.”
She gave me a sad smile, rubbing my arm.
We sat down on a nearby bench. The station security building we were using overlooked a manicured garden, a water feature bubbled softly in the distance. Tall, violet tree analogues offered shade from the Eridani sun, the light diffused yet warm on my face. Zoe rested her head on my shoulder and we just sat there, saying nothing for a long time.
“You heard what he said?” I said eventually.
“Hm, hmm,” she muttered, “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
“I have to.”
She turned to me, searching out my face. “You can talk to Admiral Jalabir. Let him deal with it.”
“I can’t,” I said, giving her a weak smile, “I’m being tested. Jalabir needs to know I can handle myself.”
“You nearly died. Again. You just had a panic attack, moments after you heard who was responsible.”
“If I can’t deal with this threat with all the resources at my disposal, I won’t be much use to the Protectorate.”
“Nonsense. You have nothing to prove to them, you’ve already done amazing things in their name. What more can they ask of you?”
I smiled and kissed the top of her head.
“You shouldn’t be out of bed. You need to rest,” she chided, rubbing my knee.
“Is that my doctor or my girlfriend talking?”
“Both.”
I was silent for a few minutes. “It’s beautiful here.”
“Reminds me of home,” she said.
“Have you heard from your mother?”
She nodded.
“What does she think of you signing on to this crazy voyage?”
“She’s proud of me. She always is, though.”
“Did you tell her about me?”
“What? No!”
“Huh?” I said, pulling back from her. Then I realised she was grinning mischievously at me. I gave her a wry grin. “Tease.”
“Got you good.”
“What did she say?”
“What do you think? I’m the lover of the Hero of the Push. That makes me famous, you know?”
“Oh does it, now?”
“Hm,
hmm.”
“And how is that working out for you?”
“I’m the subject of many of the local gossip news sites.”
“What is the latest gossip?”
“That we’re getting married soon.”
“We are?”
“Oh, yeah. Some even say we’re already married. Someone leaked copies of our civil union agreement, even. They turned out to be fake, though. Also, you and Maxine were an item before I came along and stole you away from her.”
“We were? You did?”
She nodded emphatically.
“You naughty minx.”
“They say I have terrible fashion sense, though.”
“But you mostly just wear a ship’s jumpsuit!”
“It looks good on you, but I should be wearing more revealing fashion. More like what Art used to wear.”
“That’s not a bad idea, you know.”
She gave me a light thump in the ribs, which she instantly apologised for when she realised what she’d done. She started rubbing my chest tenderly, apologising repeatedly. I took her hands from me and kissed her fingertips. I moved her hands over my neck and brought her closer to me.
“Ah…Commander?” said Geko, “Sorry, but Kekkin told me to come and tell you that…ah…”
I gave him a death stare. “What is it Geko?”
“Well, that Killian guy is taking that turd away now and if there was anything else you wanted from him?”
I sighed. “No, thanks. Killian can have him. I have all I need.”
“Right. Sorry for interrupting. I’ll go now…sir. Ma’am.”
He scurried off, bobbing his head at us as he went. Zoe watched him leave and started laughing.
“What’s so funny?” I said.
“He’s so awkward around me.”
“He’s a strange one, that boy. A good soldier, though.”
We shared each other’s nearness for a while more, just simply watching the gardens. Several birds landed and started to forage through the bushes and grass. Air traffic was restricted in this Spar, so there was little background noise beyond the sounds of nature, artificial though it was. A sense of peace settled on me, followed closely by a bittersweet sadness.
“Things are about to get hectic, again,” I said.
“I had that feeling, too. I’ve had it since you were shot.”
Frontier's End: A Seth Donovan Novel Page 17