The Kalquorians had taken over Engineering an hour ago and had gotten into the computer systems. Most of the battlecruiser, including the bridge, had lost life support. A few sections, like the kitchen and crew quarters, had been left alone ... for now.
The first thing Joseph had done was put on an atmospheric suit, one used by the maintenance and engineering crew when repairs had to be effected on the outside of the vessel. He and other personnel had gotten back onto the bridge, only to find they were locked out of helm and navigation controls. No amount of work had returned operations back to the brain of the ship. The captain didn’t know if the Kalquorians were able to navigate and pilot the battlecruiser yet, but they had certainly made sure no one else on board could either.
Sending in security forces to take back Engineering had also failed thus far. The Kalquorians had enacted security buffers, protective force fields that kept Joseph’s crew from attacking the aliens holding that section.
Joseph was tempted to ask Robards, who paced back and forth in front of his desk, why the damned buffers had not been activated as soon as the Kalquorians had gotten loose. The man had set up a guard detail; it seemed only common sense to have also put up the force fields. Their use would have guaranteed the Earthers wouldn’t be in the mess they found themselves in now. Joseph had the idea much of the mistake came from the way Robards tended to operate: the man was all about brute force. He had probably reasoned his men would far more enjoy fighting a battle than hiding behind the safety of the buffer, handing out God’s punishment to demonic foes. Earth’s destruction had not convinced some of the more fanatical elements of Joseph’s crew that God was definitely not on their side.
Right now it was the first officer who spouted fire and brimstone and judgment. Chase also paced to and fro, passing Robards every few seconds as the two men tried to wear a rut in Joseph’s sitting room floor. If Robards’ lack of setting up the security buffer around Engineering was a serious lapse in good sense, Chase had gone straight off the deep end.
He wasn’t even discussing the Kalquorians’ escape or that they had gotten control over the ship. The first officer had gone in another, less immediate direction entirely. He stomped and screamed in a fit that came close to outright hysteria.
“Ten fighters stolen! Deserters turning their backs on us rather than fighting to win the ship back! Treason! They have abandoned us and the Holy Leader!”
Chase stormed right up to Joseph’s desk and slammed both fists on its surface. His face was beet red, and Joseph almost hoped the man would have a heart attack and die right there. It would solve a lot of his problems.
Instead of falling dead, Chase leaned over and told the captain, “Captain Walker, we need to set an example. Let’s put more guards on the fighter and shuttle bays. The next bunch of cowards who try to escape should be shot right there and then.”
Joseph wanted to point out it had been those guarding the bays against the risk of the Kalquorians trying to escape who had fled. Instead, in his most reasonable tone he said, “We already have a major crisis, Commander. Do you want to add a full mutiny to our problems? If we start executing our own people while the Kalquorians control the ship, the crew will turn against us. They may even decide to surrender to the Kalquorians.”
Robards kept pacing, his hands clenching and unclenching. “This is insane, Captain. No doubt those monsters are taking us right into the heart of their Empire.”
With conviction he didn’t feel, Joseph said, “We outnumber them quite handily. We can take back the ship in a firefight once we get those security buffers down.”
Robards jerked around to stare at him. “How are we supposed to do that? I’m locked out of all commands!”
“Then you’ll have to find a way around those commands. Or a way to override them. As tactical officer, you know the system better than anyone, Mr. Robards.” Joseph spoke with deliberate disdain, showing contempt for how the tactical officer had handled the security breaches thus far.
He was positive Chase and Robards had long debated how to take the ship from his tenuous command. With them both acting like lunatics, he feared they might make the grab now. Joseph thought that if he made the two men concentrate on their own shortcomings as well as the current emergency, they were less likely to work together.
Chase shot Robards a disgusted look, making Joseph think he’d succeeded. The first officer said, “It is your responsibility to get those shields down, Alec. If you ask me, they should have been up the moment the Kalqs got free. We wouldn’t be in this position if you’d had the foresight to protect Engineering better.”
Robards scowled at Chase. “At least I’m worried about the actual emergency at hand and not about a few traitor fly-boys running away.”
“The deserters are my problem. Why don’t you go do your job and get the ship back in our hands?”
Joseph schooled his expression to keep the satisfaction he felt at bay. Putting them at odds kept his position safe for the moment.
Robards was already storming out of the room. “Thank you for your helpful input, sir,” he said by way of a parting shot. He did not wait for Joseph’s dismissal or salute on his way out.
One down, one to go. Joseph gave Chase his undivided attention. “Tell me about the fighter bays. Do we have any way of closing them off to prevent further escapes? My concern is that the Kalquorians will decide to give up the battlecruiser and flee that way.”
“No such option, Captain.” Apparently, Robards’ barb had had an effect, because Chase shrugged the issue of deserters off. He asked, “How did this happen, Captain? How could the Kalqs seize control like that, and so easily? Why aren’t they trying to take the shuttles and fighters to get away like we thought they would?”
Joseph thought about laying more of the blame on Robards’ lack of defensive strategy, but decided against it. As much of a problem as he and Chase were, there was a more immediate one to deal with. He said, “It’s not how the Kalquorians have taken over the ship or why they aren’t making a run for it that should concern us at this moment. It’s how quickly we can regain control. We must set our sights on that right now.”
Chase nodded. He seemed to have calmed once more. His tone rang with conviction when he spoke. “God will not turn his back on us. Not those of us who have remained true.”
In that case, Armageddon never should have happened, Joseph thought. What he said was, “God helps those who help themselves. While Robards tries to get those buffers nullified, I want you to ready the teams to fight once he’s successful. I know that’s his department, but I want his full attention on the task of getting us back into Engineering. He might be able to buy us only a few seconds, and we need to be ready to go in hard and fast. It could be we only get the one chance to overwhelm them.”
The first officer squared his shoulders. “I’ll see to it.”
Joseph frowned at his computer. The vid in front of his face kept blinking the same hateful words over and over: Access Denied.
“I’ll work from here on my computer in an attempt to get past some of the barriers they’ve thrown in our way. As fast as they had the virus coding in place, it could be shaky. Maybe it can be easily dismantled.”
Chase asked, “So you think you can get through what they’ve implanted in the system? They are aliens, after all, godless creatures. Who knows how their minds work?”
Not so differently from ours was Joseph’s guess. Had the roles been reversed, he would have attempted exactly what Zemos and his men had done. He would have known the shuttle and fighter bays would be protected once the alarms went off, leaving taking over the battlecruiser itself as the only option.
He said, “Programming was my specialty before I was made first officer. It may take me several hours and a few computers, but I’ll find my way through it. Get to work on your end, Commander, and leave me to do this. We may not have much time if they managed to contact any of their fleet.”
Chase saluted. “Yes sir.”
/> The first officer left. With a sigh, Joseph got to work. As he began the process of trying to find a way past the coding the Kalquorians had infected the ship’s command system with, he thought how much he’d like to board a fighter and make a run for it himself.
He couldn’t bear the thought, however. Ultimately, the situation came down to him. He’d gone along with Browning Copeland’s mad scheme of catching Kalquorians to sell to the Bi’isils. It was his order that had captured Captain Zemos’ destroyer. It was under his command that the prisoners had escaped and gotten control over the battlecruiser. It was all his fault that his crew faced the trouble they did. His conscience wouldn’t allow him to leave the others behind to face a vengeful Kalquorian Empire.
* * * *
Zemos looked up from the computer control panel he worked at, feeling rather than hearing Oret’s approach. Operating as crew and not clanmate, Oret offered a quick bow.
“Report,” the captain said.
Oret said, “Patrols are seeing little effort in the last two hours to physically break through our security buffers. However, I have detected someone making headway into getting back into the ship’s system. I estimate perhaps eight hours before they can regain control of the ship via that route. However, they won’t need to, because someone else is creating new pathways into the security drives.”
Zemos frowned. “You can’t stop them?”
The Nobek shook his head. “The program they’re using works too fast and they know this system better than I. I’m sorry, Captain. I can’t do much more than slow them down, and not by much.”
Zemos nodded. He’d figured this might happen. “How long until the buffers come down?”
“Four hours, if we’re lucky.”
The Dramok winced. “Luck is much too fickle a mistress.”
“Indeed.”
Zemos considered how much he should divulge of his own discoveries with Oret. His executive officers had all been killed during the fight with the battlecruiser; first officer, weapons commander, and weapons subcommander. As ship’s security commander, Oret was now his most senior officer. An able crewman, the Nobek had refused several promotions over the years in order to remain a member of Zemos’ crew. Sacrifice, not lack of ability, had been all that prevented Oret from rising in the ranks.
If nothing else, Zemos owed his Nobek the truth. He knew of no one better to trust it with, nor could he imagine better counsel with such knowledge.
He gave Oret a slight motion to come near. His brow raised, his clanmate did so, allowing them to converse unheard by anyone else.
His lips barely moving, Zemos told his clanmate, “We have much bigger problems than our remaining crew surviving this. I’ve been looking into Captain Walker’s communications recordings in an effort to discover if Bi’is is indeed our destination.”
Oret’s brows lowered. “Was Elisa right?”
“She was. However, this situation is much bigger than a renegade Earther ship trying to barter slaves for supplies. Captain Walker was taking us to a Bi’is research facility.”
Tension sang through Oret’s frame. “The plan was not to sell us into slavery then.”
Zemos shook his head. His stomach churned at the knowledge he’d come upon. “The Earthers’ orders are to provide healthy Kalquorian specimens for military biological experimentation and study.”
Oret released a string of expletives that silenced the entire room. Zemos let his Nobek vent; no one would ever suspect what they discussed. Who could? The scary thing was that being sold for scientific study was only the tip of the iceberg as far as the trouble that awaited the Empire.
As soon as Oret finished exhausting his impressive vocabulary of foul language, he glared at everyone else who watched him. Abruptly, the Kalquorian crew found things to busy themselves with rather than meet that burning gaze. Across the room, Miragin gave Zemos a worried look before distracting a wide-eyed Elisa. Zemos felt relief that his little Earther love could not yet understand Kalquorian and the three other languages Oret had cursed in. Her ears would be smoking.
Finding the ability to pretend civilization, Oret turned back to Zemos. “My apologies, Captain.”
“Not at all. You expressed my feelings on the matter quite well.”
Oret raked his fingers through his hair, making a snarled mess of it. “That is against the bylaws of the Galactic Council of Planets. Bi’is will be suspended, embargoes put in place, their leaders imprisoned, the Empire will declare war—”
His voice rose and Zemos put a hand on the Nobek’s shoulder to steady him. “I know. It seems our old enemy may be resuming past aggressions.”
“And Captain Walker is working with them? You said he was under orders – Bi’is is using Earthers to attack us?”
Zemos shook his head. “Not exactly. Walker was ordered to attack our vessel and take us prisoner for the purpose of selling us to Bi’is, but not by Bi’is.”
“Then who? Have the renegades managed to band together somehow?”
“A few. Maybe one hundred to a hundred and fifty of their old fleet has gathered under one man. A man everyone thought was dead.”
Oret’s jaw tensed. “A high-ranking member of the Earther fleet, then. Is it a name I’ll recognize?”
Zemos snorted. “Everyone knows his name. Earth’s Holy Leader, Browning Copeland.”
It was a rare occurrence when Zemos managed to shock his Nobek. The two or three times he’d done it had never resulted in Oret looking at him with such a blatantly stunned stare as he did now. It was a full five seconds before the hardened warrior could even speak.
When he did his voice was low, as if spoken by a man wrestling with a nightmare. “The religious leader of Earth? The man ultimately behind Armageddon? He’s alive?”
Zemos nodded, glad Oret appreciated the enormity of the situation. He wondered what his Nobek’s reaction would be when he found out the rest.
He said, “Very much alive, and gathering the remaining Earther rebels to his banner once more. He sent this vessel after us.”
Oret shook his head in disbelief. He seemed incapable of uttering another word.
Zemos smiled grimly. “Prepare yourself for the final piece of this horror.”
“More, my Dramok? By the ancestors, I don’t think I can take it.”
That Oret had forgotten himself and addressed Zemos as a clanmate showed how badly he’d been shaken. Zemos decided not to call him on it. The discoveries he’d made had shocked him just as much.
He told Oret, “Walker was told where to find us and how to attack our ship. Copeland got our ship’s coordinates and weak points from the Basma.”
Oret blinked as he tried to absorb this last insult. “The leader of Kalquor’s rebellion? He’s in league with Copeland and Bi’is?”
“So it would seem.”
Zemos saw when the full import of this news impressed itself on Oret. The Nobek’s face went as pale as death, but he retained his powers of control this time. “You know what that means, Captain?”
The Dramok nodded. “Someone with access to our fleet and its movements is running the rebellion. If not someone within the military itself, someone within the government. Someone very high up.”
They looked at each other. High treason was being committed against the Empire.
The Basma’s identity was not known. Whoever he was, he had become the central figure of a growing revolt on Kalquor. It had started with a few protests against Earther women joining Kalquorian clans in order to continue the Empire’s culture. With extinction only a few centuries away for the Kalquorian race, most had accepted the need for Earther breeding stock. However in the aftermath of the war and Earth’s destruction, the cries against mixing the two species had grown. Abductions of Earther women had happened, a colony that supported both Earthers and Kalquorians had come under siege recently, and even the Imperial Clan’s Earther empress had been attacked by insurgents. The revolt was small, but its shadowy leader the Basma had exhorted m
ore and more unrest.
The fact Browning Copeland was getting help from this traitor, help that could only be provided by someone with real knowledge of the fleet’s movements, told Zemos the revolt needed to be taken more seriously than anyone had thought.
Oret clenched his fists. “Mother of All. I don’t know who I want to kill first.”
Zemos nodded his agreement. The need to have a target to take his fury out on was almost overwhelming. Fortunately, his controlling Dramok tendencies overrode the raw rage that filled him.
He said, “If we’re going to be re-captured or killed within the next four hours, we don’t have much time to get word of this to Kalquor. I need you to get about half a dozen men who can fly fighters to the bay and send them out.”
Oret considered. He leaned over to Zemos’ console and brought up a new vid, checking information Zemos had already accessed. The Nobek scowled at the readout. “They won’t get to the nearest colony or station before they run out of power. Not from here.”
Zemos said, “I know. They’ll have to emit an emergency beacon to get attention, but if they keep to the regular patrol routes, they’ll be found.” He smiled grimly. “Eventually, anyway. What I’ve discovered about Copeland and the Basma will be recorded in the fighters’ data banks. The Empire will get the information it needs to confront Bi’is, as well as narrow their search for the traitor. The pilots’ deaths will not be in vain.”
Oret added, “Kalquor can also start tracking down the man behind Earth’s destruction. Browning Copeland will finally answer for his crimes.”
“A most noble task. Wouldn’t you say it’s well worth a man’s life, my Nobek?”
Oret nodded, his grin fierce. “Those who aren’t picked for this mission are going to be disappointed.”
“There’s a good chance they can meet a glorious death here, then.”
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