Small places, on the other hand, were fine by me. The Harpy wasn’t a big cargo ship. Not like some of the ones coming out of New Earth nowadays. And those behemoths from Rhodia piloted by their top-tier synths were practically a floating city.
But what the Harpy lacked in size, she made up for in design. She might have been an ugly looking brick on the outside, but inside she was practical with a side order of just fine.
My tongue rolled over my right back tooth, toying with the sensor there. I could have activated it and got a direct line to Cassi, but I knew there were cameras in here, and if I started talking to myself, I reckoned they’d figure out the deception.
Mind you, having spent what I figured was three days in this hell hole, talking to myself wouldn’t be out the realm of possibilities.
I leaned my head back against the hard wall and closed my eyes.
Of course, that was the exact moment when the door opened up.
I didn’t bother to open my eyes again, just waved at the end of the bed and said, “Pop it down there, Pedro.”
That wasn’t the guard’s name. I don’t think any of the guards were named Pedro. They were all Zenith and Zeniths liked their Zs. So yeah, I was being a dick, but hey! Sue me.
Someone cleared their throat.
I sighed and sat upright; stretched. Yawned. Scratched under my armpit. And then opened my eyes and peered at my visitor.
“Governor,” I said flatly.
“Captain Jameson.”
We stared at each other.
He was dressed in a shiny one-piece that morphed as he shifted. I was pretty damn sure it was camouflage capable. But considering my digs, the camo wasn’t activated. His hair today was loose, hanging down his back in thick, inky waves. His elongated eye orbs blinked slowly as he waited for me to dance the fandango.
I pulled a leg up and rested my arm on my bent knee, all comfortable and relaxed-like.
The seconds ticked by slowly.
“Very well,” the Governor said finally, and it took everything in me not to smirk. “We have hit a slight problem and require…” He hesitated as if the next words out of his mouth were going to give him indigestion. “…your assistance.”
“Well, stick me in a spacesuit and shove me out the closest airlock.”
“We’re planet-side, Captain.”
“Hard to tell,” I offered. “No external vid-screens.”
The Governor stepped further into the cell. His long-fingered hands linked together before him, and he studied the space we were in as if he hadn’t seen it before. I’d bet half the cargo I was hauling that he’d watched me a time or two on the camera feeds.
“It seems,” he said conversationally, “that your vessel has security our tech is unfamiliar with.”
“You tried to hot-wire it and got nothing,” I guessed.
“There are dune buggies in your cargo bay.”
I smiled. “Take one out for a spin?”
He glared at me. “We can open doors and switch on the lights, but otherwise the artificial intelligence on board is unwilling to aid us.”
“Not used to being denied, I take it.”
“No. We have the best hacking equipment in the galaxy.”
“We’re not from your galaxy.”
“Your navigator is.”
Something about the way he said that had my hackles rising. I didn’t move. But I wanted to. I didn’t feel quite so sanguine all of a sudden.
“Nothing to say to that?” the Governor enquired.
“What do you want me to say?”
“Your navigator is an exile.”
I said nothing.
“She is clearly someone of note considering the tech she has embedded within her. And she is quite familiar with our interrogation tactics and able to withstand them.”
Blood started to thunder through my veins. I could feel my pulse in the side of my head. Not exactly the best place to feel the blood pumping through your body. My jaw felt rock hard; my teeth smashed so tightly together. I stared at the being before me, wishing I had my plasma gun nearby or failing that a baseball bat. That’d do it nicely.
“We are unable to determine if she sent the signal to the orbital drone that attacked us,” he added as if I wasn’t staring daggers at his smarmy face.
But, as I let the words sink in, I realised that that was the first bit of new intel I’d had since being forgotten in here. It wasn’t a ship but a drone that had bombed the flux out of the planet. Unmanned, then.
“She has refused to speak and denying her the luxury of sustenance or sleep has not persuaded her to do so.”
Son of a bitch; I’d kill him. And here I’d been complaining about the lack of conversation in this joint. But I’d still had my three square meals a day, and Zyla had had nothing.
My tongue flicked over the sensor on my right rear molar and activated the two-way comm with Cassi.
Hello? Is anyone out there? It’s so cold and lonely in my little rabbit hole. Won’t you come out and play?
I couldn’t answer her. Not directly. But she’d hear everything that was being discussed around me.
“So,” I said, leaning back and feigning nonchalance. “You tortured my navigator, who is the only Zenith member of my crew, and came running to me when she flicked you the proverbial finger without bothering to answer your sadistic questions?”
He blinked at me.
“Governor,” I said, “you’re making it very hard for me to like you. If you want our cooperation, try behaving nicely.”
“I do not believe you are in a position to make demands,” he snapped back.
“Demand One,” I said. “Release my crew. All of them.”
“That is not going to happen, Captain.”
“Governor,” I said. “You came in here to ask me for help. Considering the way you’ve treated us, I’m disinclined to offer it. But your planet did just get nuked to shit all around you, and I do kinda feel bad for you on that, so I’m willing to meet you halfway on all of this.”
“Halfway,” he said flatly. “Remove the safety measures on your ship, and I might allow you to see your crew.”
We’re locked down tighter than a Rhodian synth’s butthole, boss. Nothing is getting in here.
I tried not to smile. I didn’t manage it. But I wasn’t too worried. I was guessing the quasi-smile was pretty grim.
I shook my head. “Show me my crew. Quit being a jackass. And we’ll take it from there.”
The Zenith called me something rude in Zenthian.
I stood up. A guard rushed into the cell and aimed a plasma rifle at me.
“Can you fly in atmo?” I said. The Governor and his gung-ho guard blinked at me.
Can a drop of water on Epsilon Eridani B kill you from the inside out in thirty seconds flat, boss?
I did smile then.
“Standby to implement Rescue Protocol, Jameson, K, beta-charlie-foxtrot-9-9-3.”
On it. But I must point out that space flight status hasn’t changed, boss. I still need Odo to patch me and patch me good. I’ve only just managed to bring the engines back online. Your timing couldn’t have been better. How did you know, by the way? Are you psychic or something?
“Captain, who are you talking to?” the Governor asked.
“Are you going to play nice?”
“It’s his ship,” the Governor said quickly. “EMP pulse now!”
He spun on his heel and ran out of the room, the trooper following behind him. Unfortunately, they didn’t forget to lock the cell door. I walked across the small space and tried to see what was happening out in the hallway.
For the first time since I’d been thrown in here, the window went dark.
“Cass, they’re coming for you. EMP.”
Fool me once; shame on you. Fool me twice, and I got a surprise for you.
Thatta girl, I thought and went and sat down.
Really, though. Did you have to wait three days?
I grunted.
Granted, I couldn’t have busted you guys outta there any sooner, but you couldn’t have known that.
I said nothing. The walls had eyes, after all.
Cassi’s voice was subdued when she spoke inside my head next. Did they really torture Zyla?
I sighed. Something wasn’t adding up — orbital drone bombardment. Zeniths were known for their drone technology. They were the ultimate drone masters of the galaxy. Did they do this to themselves?
I shook my head. Then I closed my eyes.
The political scene on Zenthia had been pretty rocky for several years, but as far as I knew, that was just how Zeniths acted. Chill with you one second. Stick an icicle in your back the next.
Could it have escalated? Is that why the Governor thought Zyla was involved in this?
And what if Zy was? How the flux would I know? She kept her private life to herself and kept well away from Zenthia. We couldn’t even trade with anyone there unless Zy took an impromptu holiday in an off-world location beforehand.
I was beginning to think my navigator might be hiding more secrets than the secrets I knew about or wanted to know more about. If that made any sense.
But this was Zy! She’d been part of my crew, my life, for three long years. We’d seen a lot of the Black together — dodged warlords on Leonis Bb; got fall down drunk on Eta2 Hydri B; made more money than any other cargo ship in the known sectors. Hell, we were practically famous back on New Earth. They talked about us at space school, more as a cautionary tale than anything, but still…It was nice to be recognised for your efforts.
I sighed again.
They’ve activated the EMP, boss. I’m playing dumb. They actually believe me. It’s a bit embarrassing, really. Have they no idea what a third-gen can do?
No. I didn’t think they did. Third-gen AIs were a tightly held secret. In a universe filled to the brim with so many unknowns, keeping an ace up your sleeve was an imperative.
Only New Earth military armed vessels and installations had third-gen AIs. Military armed vessels, installations, and the Harpy.
There had to be some perks to being a direct descendant of one of the Originator-controlled colony ship captains from Old Earth.
And so far, we’d flown under the radar. The Harpy was not an impressive looking ship. She was scuffed and scorched and slightly dented in places. And she wasn’t a big ship either, just a speck of space dust in the vastness of the universe. Anonymity had been our friend.
But now the Zeniths would know she was different.
And that made me twitchy.
And then a thought hit with lightning-fast precision.
Had Zyla known what the Harpy had hidden behind its bulkheads? Is that why she chose to board her?
I didn’t like thinking ill of a crew member. We were family.
But here I was; locked up in a tin can jail. And here Ceres Alpha was; bombarded from above by an orbital drone that may or may not have been Zenthian.
I scrubbed a hand over my face and sat forward, elbows to knees, trying to breathe normally.
The door opened, and a guard stood framed within it. Helmet on. HUD no doubt identifying any threats; placing a targeting reticle over my head and priming his main weapon.
He stepped back and, in that synthesised voice they used, said, “Exit the cell with your hands visible.”
I stood up and stepped toward the door with caution. Once I reached his side, he placed cuffs on my wrists and around my ankles.
“Follow me,” he said, and two more armoured goons echoed the words down the hallway. My head spun to the left, and I spotted Odo stepping out of an adjacent cell.
And behind him: Zyla.
My heartbeat sped up. It was either the excitement at seeing my nav still breathing. Or I was overdue for a hit of caffeine.
My eyes met hers and then my guard jabbed me in the side with the muzzle of his rifle. But not before I’d seen the bruises underneath Zyla’s eyes. And the black and blue mark on her left cheek. And the swelling of her lower lip. And the way she hunched slightly.
Nah. She was one of mine. And I couldn’t believe she would have played a part in nuking an entire planet. One full of innocent holidaymakers and workers whose only sins were finding employment in the tourism industry.
“Bastards,” I said quietly.
“Shut it!” the trooper said and jabbed me in the back with his rifle again.
I spun around and swept my bound hands up quickly, catching him unprepared under the jaw, where his helmet and armour failed to protect him.
He stumbled back, gasping. Which sounded hilarious over the voice comm box. And then two new rifles primed and target locked on me.
I raised my bound hands in surrender and shrugged.
“Uncontrolled spasm,” I explained. “Happens when I don’t get out enough.”
“Walk,” the nearest guard ordered.
I checked Odo and Zyla out; thankful they hadn’t reacted to my impromptu assault on one of our very well-armed guards. They had way more restraint than me. My eyes met Zyla’s in the distance. She arched her brow, which must have hurt, because she winced slightly.
Odo just slowly shook his head at me. But I could see the hunger to act in his dark gaze.
I turned around and started walking. At least we were out.
And together again.
It was something.
And then I walked into a larger room that was filled to capacity with well-dressed Zeniths. Including the Governor of Ceres Alpha and his multitude of troopers.
This was their council. Not like the High Council back on Zenthia. But a mirror, a representation of such. A direct conduit to Big Brother. What was decided in here would be backed by the might of the Zenithian homeworld. It was binding and final, and no external species had yet been able to counter a verdict delivered by a mirror council.
My throat went dry. My palms did the opposite and became clammy.
Then Cass said inside my head; They’ve brought out the plasma cutters, boss. They are one determined bunch of whackos. Give me the word, and I’ll lift off.
We’d already revealed too much. It wasn’t just me and the crew I had to think about here. There was a larger picture and more important things at stake.
Like New Earth and the third-gen technology.
When I’d been given Cassiopeia by my great-grandfather and Corvus, Cassi’s Originator, it had been with the understanding that I would sacrifice everything, even myself and those closest to me, to keep her out of the hands of anyone who could use her against us.
Something was happening on the Zenith political scene. Something volatile and dangerous. Could it reach New Earth?
With Cassi aiding them? Yeah. Yeah, it could.
I turned my head and looked at the rest of my crew filing in behind me. The guards brought us all to the centre of the room, beneath the austere gaze of the Ceres A Council and their troopers.
My heart beat too fast for my chest to like it. I licked my dry lips and interlocked my trembling fingers.
Doc was on board the Harpy.
So was Cass.
I swallowed, and it got caught in my throat, making me cough uncontrollably.
Zyla narrowed her eyes at me. Odo just kept glaring at the council members.
Boss. They’ve counteracted the boobytrap I left them. One Zenith got fried. Sorry about that. Might make things a trifle difficult to iron out later. But they’re back at it. Cutter’s made it one metre through the hull. Gel won’t hold much longer. Any advice?
I looked frantically around the room as if I could find an answer. A friendly face. Someone who would stop this.
There wasn’t, but my mind kept telling me there had to be.
Could they get to Cass inside the ship’s systems? Not easily. She’d make them work for it. And slicing a hole in the side of the ship when it was the only ship left intact on the entire planet was a bit extreme.
But then, maybe they had help already coming. And maybe they really
did believe Zyla had a hand in all of this. And maybe the Harpy, according to their warped thought processes, held Zyla’s secrets and that’s all they really wanted.
I could have told them they would be shit outta luck on that. Zy only shared her secrets with others when she absolutely had to.
I looked back at my navigator.
She cocked her head to the side and stared at me with those too-big eyes. Questioningly.
Did you do it?
I shook my head.
It didn’t matter. I’d made a promise not to share her secrets and I wouldn’t.
But I’d also made another promise that was even more important than that; even if part of me baulked at that reality.
I’d promised to keep Cassiopeia safe.
I sighed.
“Lift off,” I said, my voice low, my heart heavy. “Leave us. And if you can’t evade, self-destruct.”
Did I hear you right, boss? Leave you? A pause, then, Self-destruct?
“You heard me. Go. Now.”
Silence and then, softly, sadly, Say the words, Kael. I can’t authorise a self-destruct without them.
“Captain?” the Governor said, standing from his ornate seat. “What are you doing?”
Flux it! There were only so many places you could hide on this godforsaken planet. And I was pretty damn sure they had reinforcements coming. And, besides, I was done with this dance, anyway.
“Self-destruct. Jameson, K, beta-charlie-foxtrot-9-9-3.”
“Kael! No!” Zy cried, sounding stunned.
“Captain?” Odo asked, no drawl evident in his shocked tone.
“Stop him!” the Governor shouted. “Rescind it, Jameson!”
“‘Do not go gentle into that good night,’” I murmured. “‘Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light.’”
Goodbye, Captain.
“It’s been an honour and a privilege…”
An explosion shattered the world.
And with it, my soul was left in tattered pieces.
Chapter Four
One month later…
Absolute Zero (The Sector Wars, Book 1) Page 4