Alien Outcast

by Tracy St. John

  As for the visitor, he waited in the hatch, patiently watching to see what would happen. Nako didn’t spot a blaster on the man. Except for the red trim of his fleet formsuit and a strange silver pin affixed to it, he was dressed the same as Nako. His uniform even had similar wear patterns.

  Let’s get this show on the road. “I heard you were dead, Captain Kila.”

  “I have a bad habit of disappointing my enemies, Captain Nako. Thanks for not blasting me on sight.” The damned man’s smirk never wavered.

  It was infectious too; Nako fought not to answer it with a nasty grin of his own. He settled for a warning. “I enjoy anticipation as much as the execution. But you’re safe for now.”

  “Then allow me to introduce you to Admiral Piras.”

  More gasps rang out behind Nako, but the instant he’d identified Kila, he’d half-expected the surprise. It didn’t keep his hackles from rising as the second-most hated man to those loyal to Kalquor stepped out of the shuttle. Terig’s growl rose in the tense silence.

  “I hate owing my life to the those who delivered Laro Station to the Basma—along with the lives of hundreds of men.” Nako’s palm itched to grab his blaster and blow the bastard away.

  With a heavy, almost brutish jaw topped by otherwise elegant features, Admiral Piras was a striking figure in his blue formsuit. Without the slightest trace of fear, he strode to within a yard of Nako. “You owe me nothing, Captain. Take a swing, if it will make you feel better. I’m not too fond of myself either.”

  “You offer no excuses for the murders?”

  “Are there any you’d care to hear?”

  “Not really.” Nako drew a breath and calmed the fury that tried to draw violence from him. Dramok Piras, nicknamed the Terror of the Fleet, was a traitor almost as vile as Dramok Maf. The admiral’s treachery was such that many Kalquorians took it personally, as Nako did. Yet Piras’s straightforward stare—as well as the manner in which he had arrived—was too big a mystery to bear.

  “Fine. Let me hear it,” Nako spat out.

  In a voice rumored to have been made raspy by violent yelling at underlings, Piras said, “Fleet Admiral Hobato ordered me to pick a target that would get me close to the Basma or the Holy Leader, Browning Copeland. After researching thoroughly, I found the only objectives Maf would consider worth consideration were Laro or a colony full of civilians.”

  “You chose Laro. Filled with loyal warriors who fought for the empire.”

  “I reasoned if they were allowed the option, they would have volunteered their lives for those of the civilians, who included women and children.”

  Nako had to admit Piras was right about that—if he wasn’t lying through his teeth about being forced to make such a choice. “Go on.”

  “Maf was convinced I, along with Captain Kila and his crew, had turned against the fleet. It got me near enough to Browning Copeland to capture him and destroy his force near Haven Colony.”

  “You were behind that? Wait, you captured the Holy Leader? He’s not dead?”

  “As far as I know, Fleet Command hasn’t executed him.” A smile twitched Piras’s lips and disappeared as fast as it had come. “Laro’s men did not die in vain, at least when it comes to removing the Earther alliance from Dramok Maf’s rebellion.”

  “That’s where you snagged the battlecruiser.” Terig eyed him with a mixture of revulsion and awe.

  Piras dipped a nod to the subcommander. “Now I’m here to finish my mission, to end Maf and his fanatical revolution. To offer real meaning to those losses on Laro.”

  Nako considered. He wanted to believe Piras to be the deceitful traitor. He didn’t care to hear that Fleet Command would sacrifice the lives of good men on only a sliver of a chance to end the war. Yet he was all too aware of how easily the fleet turned its back on its own.

  Yeah, he could accept Piras’s story as true. That pissed him off. “Son of a bitch.”

  “You don’t believe me.” Piras had misunderstood Nako’s reaction. The thought struck him that the admiral didn’t sound as if he cared one way or the other. He only sounded tired.

  What had it cost him to give up Laro to Maf? If he had an ounce of decency in him, a hell of a lot. Maybe everything that mattered. Nako found a mote of sympathy for the man.

  He gave Piras a rueful grimace. “Actually, I do believe you, Admiral. Fuck me, I do. It would have been so much easier to blast you into pieces.”

  “Would you like me to apologize for not being as big a double-crossing asshole as you took me for?”

  “Fuck it. Come, you and your men have a seat. We can talk.”

  A small conference table and some benches had been set up in the bay, since the raider was too small to allow meeting spaces. Nako, Sesin, Piras, and Kila sat. Terig and the raider’s security detachment remained standing, as did the three men who had come with the spies: two warrior Nobeks and a handsome man in a black formsuit with no breed designation color—not that he needed it. He spoke not a word, but his commanding aura was all Dramok. The case of tools, opened for Terig’s inspection, confirmed he was an engineer.

  They all wore silver pins. Nako filed his curiosity about them at the end of the hundreds of other questions to ask Piras and Kila.

  Piras paused to nod to the engineer. “I brought along my chief of engineering, Imdiko Lokmi, since he might contribute to our conversation. He is also ready to assist you with repairs to your raider, if you need him.”

  Nako started. The man was an Imdiko? Lokmi’s direct stare challenged him, and he had to chuckle. “I see. My Imdiko is dual breed as well. Poor bastard’s other half is Nobek, so if you think you’ve had it tough as an Imdiko-Dramok, talk with him.”

  Lokmi’s stiff posture eased, and he smiled a little. “I can’t imagine that combination. Mine has been more than I or my clanmates can stand, at times.”

  “It’s not you with the problem, it’s how others think that’s a problem. People are a pain in the ass.”

  “Exactly.” Lokmi’s grin spread wide.

  “Tell me what I saw your ships do, Chief Engineer. You weren’t cloaked.”

  “Phased.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Nako saw Terig jerk, no doubt with the same surprise the raider captain felt. He looked from Lokmi to Kila to Piras. “The fleet has working phase capability?”

  “Just our five vessels. Lokmi perfected the technology, and we considered sharing it with Fleet Command.”

  “But you didn’t?”

  “Unfortunately, we’re not the only operatives trying to take down the other side. Maf has too many spies embedded in high places for us to share the technology with Kalquor,” Piras said.

  Nako mused over that. He’d heard the reports of high-profile admirals besides Piras being arrested for espionage. “It stinks you couldn’t give such a game-changer to the fleet. We could have wrapped the war up in a couple of weeks with phase technology. I don’t suppose you’d care to share with us either.”

  Instead of confirming his assertion, Piras surprised him by saying, “That remains to be seen. If we need help beyond what you’ve already handed us, it may mean giving you a phase device.”

  “As much as I hate to admit it, you pulled us out of the fire, Admiral. I don’t understand where I’ve offered you any kind of assistance yet.”

  “Only the potential means to find the Basma himself. I have a use for that destroyer you separated from the flock.”

  “I was wondering why you didn’t finish it off.”

  Kila’s leer had remained plastered to his mug until that moment, but it wavered at last. “We haven’t been able to pinpoint which vessel Maf himself is on. Searching from ship to ship with so few of us is taking a great deal of time, unfortunately. And the way they’ve coded coms, so that there are never any direct frequency links to messages sent out or received by him…even the admiral hasn’t been able to untangle that mess.”

  Piras nodded. “If we could pinpoint Maf’s location, we could capture or kill
him, and finish this hateful war.”

  His eyes burned with determination. He ground his teeth together, as if he could chew his way to the Basma. Nako was reassured that Piras was indeed no traitor to Kalquor.

  He still wouldn’t lay good odds on him staying alive once the war is over. Too many had died on Laro. People had been screaming for Piras’s blood, even though most believe he died in the battle for Haven Colony.

  “I’m curious about what you were trying to do at that com beacon, Captain Nako.” Kila’s voice pulled him from his musings. “My raider was phased in the same place where you parked yours.”

  They were the source of the strange readings we couldn’t figure out. Their ship caused the spike in molecular disturbance. Nako exchanged a glance with Terig. It made sense. “You were the reason that destroyer was hovering by the beacon, scanning for thermal indications?”

  “There are some sensor echoes emitted from a craft in two different planes of existence,” Lokmi confirmed. “But not enough for any instruments to get a real fix on. The destroyer knew something had passed through, but since our raider didn’t act like anything it could identify, they were analyzing a ghost.”

  “But the message you tried to send. I need to know about that and the file you were attempting to transmit.” Piras leaned forward. “What new threat has Maf come up with that we haven’t heard about?”

  Nako hoped like hell he was right to trust Piras and his men. If Piper’s files were legit—and he was damned sure they were—it required resources he didn’t have to stop Bi’is. Resources Piras would have.

  “Unfortunately, the empire has bigger problems than the Basma. And yes, we are talking absolute destruction of our people.”

  “Which is why you dared to use the com beacon. You were trying to warn Fleet Command?”

  “Or anyone who could pass the message along. You’ve been using it for that purpose yourself, haven’t you? That’s why you were docked there.”

  Kila grimaced. “I have bad news for you, Captain. We disabled it, along with most of the other beacons. We’re blacking out Maf’s fleet so they can’t listen in on Kalquor any longer. We’d just finished the job when you showed up.”

  “There’s no way to use the beacon to transmit?” Nako’s guts churned.

  “Even if there were, you couldn’t without alerting Maf you’re sitting there, begging to be blown to bits. As you nearly were.” Kila’s smirk returned.

  Piras tapped a finger impatiently on the table’s surface. “Enough with all these tangents. Tell me about the warning you were sending, Captain Nako.”

  “I doubt five raiders and a battlecruiser can do much about the situation, Admiral. But for what it’s worth, I have one hell of a story to tell you.” With that, he told of Piper’s escape from the Bi’isil lab station and the horror that was following on her heels.

  * * * *

  Piper picked at her food in the raider’s dining area, a boxlike room filled with rectangular tables and benches. With the utilitarian metal furnishings, it could have been any cafeteria on Earth. Except cafeterias on Earth had tended to sport some attempt at decoration. Not the raider’s mess hall, however. Its purpose was clearly for the crewmembers to eat their meals and return to work as quickly as possible.

  It had been mentioned that as long as the visiting admiral and his men were there, eating with Nako and his team, the area was off-limits to the rest of the crew. I should be so lucky, Piper thought. She didn’t want to be there either.

  Not that the Kalquorians had been unpleasant to her. In particular, Piras had been polite. Warm, even. The admiral and his Nobek captain clanmate had asked her many questions as Ulof and his kitchen staff of two had whipped up a meal for the group. Piper supposed it could have been called an interrogation, but Piras and Kila had made their inquiries with gentle tones. Their Imdiko engineer had figured out a way to unlatch her slave collar while the interview went on. At least being rid of that thing had offered some relief.

  The questions were finished, the meal had been served, and now arguments raged between Piras, Kila, and Nako, with occasional input from others.

  Piras had set his sights on going for help. “One of the raiders needs to head for open space to send a message to the fleet.”

  “Even at top speed, a raider won’t get clear of the Basma’s com jamming for a couple of days. Then it will take longer still for a sizable portion of the Imperial Fleet to arrive here, enough to fight Maf’s vessels.” Nako had repeated that several times by then.

  “All the more reason for us to run with the original plan of finding Maf. Assassinate him and end the revolt.” Kila was all about killing off the man who’d started the war.

  “Then what? We don’t know his fleet will stand down. He has officers who are capable of commanding those vessels, and they won’t be in any hurry to face Imperial justice.”

  “The biggest threat is that death ship,” Terig interjected. “We should concentrate on stopping it.”

  “With hundreds of hunter-killers surrounding it? We’d have no more success in stopping them than Maf’s fleet.”

  “Phase and sneak onto the transport. Destroy it from the inside.”

  “Won’t that expose us to the virus? Not that I mind dying to stop it, but we can’t guarantee we’ll be able to finish the job with so few of us to attack. We have to be absolutely sure we can put that thing out of commission.”

  On and on the arguments went, with no one offering a workable solution. Tempers flared, and the voices grew louder, each attempting to shout down the others.

  Typical. A major crisis was at hand, but nothing was getting done. She’d come here for nothing. There was no absolution to be had, despite all her attempts to do right.

  Piper sighed and pushed her plate away. Despite the privations of living on the Bi’isil lab station, her enthusiasm for eating had disappeared.

  “You didn’t find your dinner to be good?” Ulof had appeared at her shoulder. He picked up the nearly full plate and frowned. Piper couldn’t tell if he was hurt or angry. His expression could have gone either way.

  “It’s not the food. You’re an excellent cook. I have no appetite.” She turned to Nako, who was rubbing his temples as if he had a headache. With all the yelling, Piper wasn’t surprised. She leaned close to him. “If you’re finished with me, I’d like to go to my quarters and lie down.”

  Did she imagine his gaze lingering on her? That his irritated expression eased into warmth? Maybe he was thinking about their exciting tryst a few hours earlier.

  Piras had overheard her question. “I have nothing further for her, Captain.”

  Nako glanced at the cook still hovering nearby. “Ulof, can you spare a moment to escort her?”

  His voice slightly strained, perhaps miffed Piper hadn’t eaten what he’d prepared, the Imdiko said, “No problem. I need to stop in the kitchen first, however. Come with me, Matara?”

  As Piper rose from her seat, all the men in attendance did so as well. She shifted uncomfortably as they bowed to her.

  Piras smiled. “Thank you for answering my questions, Matara Piper. The empire appreciates all you’ve done to bring this information to us.”

  “Sure. I hope you’re able to do something with it.” Sometime before the death ship showed up would be nice.

  She couldn’t keep herself from glancing over her shoulder at Nako as she followed Ulof out of the dining area. Her insides shook when she found he watched her. Their gazes met, and a bolt of lightning went through Piper.

  Then the moment was over, and Nako went back to berating Piras. “Look, Admiral, in any case, you need our help. Unless you give us this phase technology, we’re worthless. You need us to—”

  Piper entered the kitchen and the door shut behind her, cutting off Nako’s voice.

  Ulof dismissed his assistants. “Our illustrious leaders have descended into the whining and bitching portion of the conference,” he told them. “I can handle the last bit of cleanup and se
rving, if you’ll deal with breakfast in the morning.”

  They left. Ulof eyed Piper’s leftovers and sighed. She felt bad that he thought she hadn’t enjoyed his cooking. She wasn’t sure how a big lug could resemble a dejected boy, but Ulof managed it.

  She held out her hands. “Here, I’ll take that. Now that I’m away from all the quarreling, I think my appetite is making a comeback.”

  “Really? Listen, if you don’t want this, I can make something else you might prefer—”

  “Thanks, but it is perfectly fine. The situation put me off, not your food.” As well as the stench of failure. I should be used to it by now.

  Piper set the plate on the counter and tackled the smoked fish-tasting meat they’d called rizpah. It was delicious, she found, not at all tasteless as she’d thought it in the mess hall. “Yep, it was the ambience. Now that I don’t have to hear a bunch of men yelling why they have the best plan and how everyone else’s ideas suck, I can enjoy this as it should be enjoyed.”

  Ulof’s lips hinted at a smile as she dug in with enthusiasm. He looked more boyish than ever. He ducked his head when he realized she was looking at him and busied himself at another counter. “There will be a dessert too, if everyone doesn’t storm out before I serve it. I hope we won’t be entertaining Admiral Piras’s bunch beyond this one meal, or we’ll have to attack someone for supplies. Otherwise, we’ll soon be stuck with military pouch rations instead of real food.”

  As much as Piper delighted in actual cooking and not the nutrient cubes she’d had to endure as a Bi’isil slave, eating was far down on the list of immediate concerns. “On our way to my quarters, could we stop to check on Ob?”

  Ulof regarded her with an expression she couldn’t read. “Do you seriously consider that Tragoom to be your friend?”

  Here we go again. “Why not? He’s loyal and good to me.”

  “Is he smart?”

  The question, spoken in a defensive tone, puzzled Piper. She shrugged. “When it comes to mechanics and technical tasks, he’s talented. As for overall intelligence, I’d put him on the level of an indifferent pre-adolescent student. Maybe he could learn more, if he applied himself. Or maybe not. But then, I’ve known plenty of grown Earthers who were at that level too.”