Arun did not consider himself to be a coward, but to arrive uninvited at a senior Jotun’s cabin packed him full of ice-cold fear from the pit of the stomach to the back of his throat. He felt the scabs on his shoulders where a Jotun who was on his side had nonetheless carved his claws into human flesh.
When Arun saw the reserve captain, though, he had to keep from laughing. He had never seen such a wheezing wreck of a Jotun. Hunched over in her hover chair, not only did the folds of this alien’s ample belly show through her white pelt, but patches of pallid skin showed too where her fur had thinned.
The Jotun’s voice was little more than a dull whisper, but as she’d beckoned in Arun and Indiya, the Jotun had spoken the human language in her own voice – not via a synthesizer – and sounded more comfortable doing so than any other Jotun Arun had heard before.
Now the old officer stared at Arun, squeezing her rheumy eyes to focus on him as he stood at attention on a charged section of deck. Arun was trying to make sense of the filmy, white bubble that dominated the rear of the cabin. He decided it was a bespoke thrust station, designed to accommodate and protect the reserve captain, and her chair, when the main engine was operating.
“Who,” rasped the ship’s officer, “the fuck is he?”
From the corner of his eye, Arun saw Indiya blanch at her officer’s language. Amusement tickled him – but he forced back his temptation to laugh. She was a strange girl, this Indiya, but he’d like to understand her better.
“Well? Answer, Indiya.”
“Sorry, sir. He is a passenger who has been helping me with an investigation.”
“The black box recorder?”
She drew a deep breath. “No, sir. A suspected mutiny.”
The reserve captain lifted herself a little from her seat. The frightening physical power of these aliens was evident for just long enough to send a shot of adrenaline coursing through Arun.
But the Jotun was long past her prime, and the effort reduced her to coughing.
Both humans waited patiently for the officer to compose herself.
“Explain!” she ordered.
Indiya did so. She explained how the Marines had been drugged, and her uncle murdered. She passed on the recording Arun had made of Purify’s autopsy, and the evidence that Marine-issue microdarts had killed him. She ended with Arun’s footage of Lieutenant Balor’s and Ensign Geror’s fresh corpses, the two officers who had been shot in the back on Bonaventure. Murdered.
They waited as the old Jotun ground her jaws while she considered the evidence.
The reserve captain cleared her throat noisily. “The implication of your statements is that senior ship’s officers are involved. I can’t believe that of the captain. She has the ambition–” the Jotun wiggled her ears– “but altogether lacks the initiative to plan an insurrection.”
The Jotun paused to clear phlegm from her throat. “Have I ever told you,” she asked Indiya, “that your captain served under me, years ago, as a junior logistics officer? She didn’t impress me in the slightest, and my reports reflected that. And yet 130 years later, here she is as my commanding officer. Such is the Navy’s wisdom.”
Arun glanced across at Indiya. Judging by her exasperated look, this wasn’t the first time she’d heard this tale.
“You are fortunate that you came to me,” said the Jotun.
Arun felt energized, warmth fueling his muscles. It had been a long while since he had last felt confidence.
“Anyone else would have had you executed,” said the Jotun.
The reserve captain pointed a mid–limb at Arun. “War is chaotic. Ugly. Uncontrollable. Good officers die without any sense to their passing. Trying to assign blame is an understandable human failing, but not credible as evidence.”
He pointed at Indiya. “Likewise with your uncle’s death. I was very fond of him, as you know. His passing saddened me tremendously. The word to describe your state is denial. This is your human coping reaction to news you are not yet ready to accept. Your mind is in a state of cognitive dissonance. This rules you out as a credible witness.”
Arun glared at this alien who had crushed their hopes with a few breathless words.
The officer positioned her chair in front of Arun. Jotuns couldn’t read human facial expressions, but Arun felt the reserve captain could see the disrespect in his face and, in her alien way, glared right back.
“As for your ludicrous attempts at forensic autopsy,” the alien told Arun, “I can only assume that your ridiculous performance was contrived to induce my Indiya to extend you the great privilege of her mating rights.”
“Sir, I understand you don’t believe me,” pleaded Indiya. “But if there are more deaths, will you please –”
“No!” Spat the old Jotun in a burst of phlegm. “I will not indulge you. I forbid you to speak again on this matter. To anyone. That will be all.”
The reserve captain turned her chair around, presenting her back.
Indiya came to attention. Arun saluted. They both left.
The ship girl had gambled and lost.
Now it was down to Arun.
— Chapter 28 —
As soon as the hatch irised shut with a smooth swish, Arun rounded on Indiya.
“We should have gone to my brother from the start. He’s our only way to recruit Marines. And winning them over is our only chance now.”
Indiya shushed him. She twisted her eyebrows into a knowing look. “Heidi’s doing a wonderful job of playing our human game, but let’s not frighten her by saying things we don’t really mean.”
Arun calmed down – enough to pause for a couple of beats. “Yes, I’m sorry, Heidi.” If the security AI was listening, she gave no sign, but Indiya talked as if Heidi were there, and she knew far more about how the ship worked. “It’s just a game,” he said speaking to the bulkhead. “We’ve even gotten Reserve Captain… the reserve captain involved now. How good is that?” He turned back to Indiya. “What is the reserve captain’s name, Indiya?”
She frowned. “I don’t know. She’s just the reserve captain.”
“Well then, Heidi, now we’ve gotten the reserve captain involved, I’ll ask my brother whether he can bring all the Marines into one place. That way we can ask them to join our side in the game. Isn’t that exciting?”
A fist jabbed into his side. “Don’t push it,” Indiya hissed. “I’ll come with you,” she said in a louder voice.
“No. You’re our reserve. Our secret weapon. Stay with your special friends in the lab. I’m sure Heidi will let you know how the game’s progressing. Join us later – you’ll know when the time is right.”
Indiya lurched toward Arun. He nearly pushed her away, thinking she was going to hit him again, but instead she reached up to grasp his neck. She searched his eyes with hers. “Be careful,” she said, her voice warm with emotion.
Arun kissed her.
He’d only meant it as a token. A dramatic gesture because that seemed to be what she wanted.
She closed her eyes dreamily.
“I’ll be back for more of the same,” he said.
She nodded, her eyes still closed.
Arun took a long, last look at her soft, dimpled face, recording the image in his memory back up, before speeding off, though not yet to find his brother. He judged that the situation was even worse than he’d let on to Indiya. He had to recruit Indigo Squad directly and without delay. The reserve captain had given him one piece of useful intelligence. The ship’s captain wasn’t a plotter. At least the old Jotun didn’t think so, and she knew more about other Jotuns than Arun. That meant Captain Flayer was both a target and a potential ally.
On his way, he decided he should by rights feel a hero for having given Indiya hope. If Springer had seen that exchange, she would be jealous, but should be proud of him too.
Passing through the hatch at Deck 12, Frame 4, he started to wonder how much of an act that romantic clinch had really been.
The situation was going from drent to drenter
, and he didn’t think he’d ever get the chance to collect but… to his surprise, he found the prospect of kissing Indiya again gave him something precious worth fighting for.
Which was just as well.
Because fighting was inevitable now.
— Chapter 29 —
“Why weren’t you here?” asked Sergeant Gupta. The veteran who used to put a rod of fear up Arun’s spine pulled at his ears and looked away, momentarily confused. “I mean, it’s bad. You should always be here when we’re on patrol.”
“Sergeant, the officer asked me to perform a task for him.”
“Oh?” Gupta looked away, probably trying to remember who his officer was. “I guess that’s all right then, McEwan.”
When he realized Gupta hadn’t meant his words sarcastically, Arun relaxed a little.
“Instructions from the officer, sergeant. He says to activate Local Battle Net so that I can pass his message securely.”
Arun had gambled that he would need his suit for protection, speed, and secure comms even though he’d used up nearly half an hour getting into his battlesuit. Whether the delay would prove a fatal error, only time would tell. The first advantage the suit offered was LBNet: a tight-beam suit-to-suit distributed comm network that couldn’t easily be jammed or intercepted.
Gupta peered at Arun. He didn’t look convinced about Arun’s story. Arun could imagine the sergeant’s questions: Why hadn’t Arun named an officer? Why the need for secrecy? But the instinct to obey was too strong. “Squad,” ordered the sergeant, “put your helmets back on and activate LBNet.”
Good. Gupta had bought that one. Would he let Arun push him even further?
“Listen up, Marines,” said Arun once LBNet had established. “I am here on the authority of our superior.”
“Who, Arun?” asked Springer.
“Quiet! When an officer commands, you obey without question.” A true officer or NCO would make his visor transparent and glare at Springer, but Arun felt bad enough shouting at her. “I am not an officer but when I transmit an officer’s orders, the officer’s authority is conveyed onto me. So shut the frakk up, all of you, and obey my instructions.”
Indigo Squad snapped to attention and saluted Arun.
“Yes, sir.”
“Acknowledged.”
“Yes, Marine.”
The acknowledgments the Marines of Indigo Squad gave him were varied, but were offered without question. Arun’s mouth formed an ‘o’. His eyes popped. He had no idea they’d react so obediently. He could order them into battle and he didn’t think they would bat an eyelid. Within a few hours, he would be putting that to the test.
He’d tethered his lies to a truth – there really were genuine occasions where you saluted a lowly Marine because that lowly individual represented the authority of an officer.
Corporal Hecht frowned.
Wicked glee seized Arun. If an officer ever found out – and they probably would eventually – Arun was dead meat. He might as well enjoy this brief time in charge.
He faced off against the corporal. “You got a problem, Hecht?”
“No, sir.”
“Good. Corporal Hecht. Corporal Majanita. You are to take your sections and provide a guard detail for Captain Flayer outside her cabin. This is a genuine threat to the captain’s safety. Look sharp, Marines, and get there in double quick time.”
The two sections separated under their corporals and moved away.
Arun followed. “Faster,” he barked “Run!”
A grin spread over Arun’s face. He could get used to this.
——
“What do you mean, you’re taking over?”
“Relieved, Corporal Kalis. The word is relieved. We are relieving you.”
Kalis unsealed and lifted his helmet visor to scratch at his head. “But…” His voice tailed off, but he rallied his thoughts and tried again. “Sergeant McEwan told me to take my section and–”
“Yes, but that was before, when the sergeant thought one section would be enough. Now, he needs a larger guard detail. As you can see, I’ve brought two sections.”
“Yes, but–”
“You have one section. You can’t fulfill your duty with only one, and so: You. Are. Relieved.”
“I don’t know, Arun.”
“How dare you? I bear the authority of an officer. You will address me as if talking to a Jotun directly. To do otherwise dishonors the officer.” Arun leaned in close. “Are you deliberately being insubordinate, Kalis?”
“No, sir.”
“Shut up! Did I give you permission to speak?”
Kalis didn’t know how to respond to that. His bewildered face was pitiful to see.
“Why is your section still here, Kalis?”
“Sorry, sir.” Kalis selected a local command channel. “Alpha Section, we are relieved.”
Arun didn’t breathe until he saw Kalis’s section march away. That was the second time he’d tried that trick. He reckoned he’d pushed his luck as far as it would go.
Barney chimed in Arun’s mind, alerting him that Springer had set up a private channel.
“What’s happening?” she asked. “Umarov and I… we’re confused.”
“Don’t worry,” Arun replied. “All you have to do is make sure that Madge and Hecht stay here with their sections, and don’t let anyone else guard the captain. Keep the captain safe. That’s all you need to know.”
“Don’t shut me out, Arun.”
He clasped her shoulder. Through her armor she wouldn’t feel much, but he hoped she understood the comforting gesture. “Trust me, Phaedra.”
— Chapter 30 —
“I can break the door down. Would you prefer that?”
The Marine thumped on the door with his powered gauntlets. Each hammer pound pulsed through the Freak Lab and brought out a gasp from Indiya. Before the Marine had arrived demanding entry, the lab where ‘B’ Crew’s freaks were sheltering had been a place of refuge while Arun tried to win support from his brother.
Now the bulkheads seemed to be closing in. Her safe place had become a trap.
“Has anyone got a weapon?” asked Fant, resolve written in his clenched fists and squared shoulders. It would take more than Fant’s fists to hold back an armored Marine.
“I might have,” offered Indiya tentatively. Her secret weapon had crashed the suit AI of the reserve captain’s guard, but her supply was depleted.
After an exchange of suspicious glances between the specials, Furn answered: “I think all of us have something up our wrists.”
“But unproven,” added Loobie.
Finfth’s brow was creased in thought, but he said nothing.
“I have a weapon,” called the Marine from outside in the passageway. “Would that help? You do realize I can hear every word?”
“Go away!” shouted Fant.
“No problem. Let me in first, though. I need to tell you something.”
“Do you think he can break down the door?” whispered Loobie.
“Of course I can,” the Marine answered. “I don’t want to, though. I could kill you too, but I don’t want to do that either.”
Indiya gasped with the sharp pain that suddenly stabbed at her mind. Loobie, Fant and Furn were all trying to mind-link with her simultaneously. “Stop it,” she hissed. “Are you trying to fry my brain?”
“Now why the frakk would I do that?” said the Marine. “A right bunch of dumb twonks you are, but I need you, and I’m nearly out of time. Open the frakking hatch. Last chance.”
“We’ll call security,” said Loobie.
“No you won’t. You would already have done so if you were going to. Anyway, I’m here to do a favor, not kill you.”
“I believe him,” said Finfth. “Let him in.”
The others all looked to Indiya. She gave a curt shake of her head.
The specials had assembled around a table bolted to the aft bulkhead, which was serving as a floor. Indiya rose from her chair and plodd
ed along the charged area of the deck to stand facing the hatch.
“Now I know you’re lying. Why would you do me a favor? You don’t know me from Adam.”
“Who’s Adam? Anyway, I never said I was doing it for you. I’m doing it for a comrade. I want you to help him because I owe him my life.”
“Who’s your friend?”
“Friend? What friend?”
Indiya mind-linked to Finfth.
“You said you were doing this for a friend,” said Indiya to the Marine on the other side of the hatch.
“Scuttlebutt says you augments are super-clever. Guess that’s another rumor that isn’t true.”
“So you’re doing this for someone you owe a debt to who isn’t your friend?”
“You got there in the end.”
“But why come to us?”
“Because he’s in danger, and you might be able to help him. I know I can’t.”
“Let him in,” said Finfth. “Please.”
Even before he’d finished speaking, Finfth stood and pushed off toward the hatch control panel.
With a sinking feeling in her gut, Indiya realized that Finfth had been edging his way closer to the hatch for a while now. She lunged at him.
Indiya won a loose hold around his waist, tightening her grip with every iota of strength. Loobie was closing in to join the fight. She only had to slow Finfth for a few seconds before Loobie arrived.
She looked and saw the empath’s face was as steely as a Marine’s. He pushed his arms down inside her grip and snapped her arms away, nearly wrenching them from their sockets. Before she could grab him again, he’d curled into a floating ball with his feet jammed up against her jaw. When he pushed out with his legs, she went tumbling backward, sending jagged shards of pain through her neck when her head bounced against the deck.
Conservation of momentum said Finfth should be shooting off in the opposite direction.
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