Reckoning: The Ixan Prophecies Trilogy Book 3

by Scott Bartlett

  Cho was nodding. “Both true, Admiral Keyes. Unfortunately, I see no alternative.”

  Vaghn uncrossed her arms and stepped through a gap between two collapsible chairs. “Where do you envision the allied fleet deploying while the civilian population flees, Captain Cho?”

  Cho’s face reddened. “You already know the answer to that.”

  “True. But I’d like for the other captains to hear what you told me.”

  “We will accompany the civilian fleet, to protect our families as well as the rest of humanity, the Wingers, and the other species that accompany us. There’s no way for us to know what threats they may encounter among the stars. We must be there to protect them from every danger.”

  “And yet you didn’t emphasize that point in your presentation.” Captain Vaghn turned to Keyes, her eyebrows raised.

  Keyes sighed. “With the fall of Sol, the Commonwealth is all but destroyed. The UHF is the closest thing humanity has to a governing body. Likewise with Spire and the Winger Directorate. From a democratic perspective, I find it frightening to consider that we, the military, now find ourselves in the position of de facto government. But maybe we can mitigate that by preserving some democratic forms. In strategic and tactical matters, I exercise total command, but if you wish to take your ships to protect fleeing civilians, then I do not feel justified in trying to stop you.”

  Keyes stood, his eyes roving from human captain to Winger captain to human. “Leave with the civilians if you wish. The Providence will not. She’ll see you as far as the Bastion Sector, and she’ll help you clear the way to Alder. But after that, I intend to remain and cause the Ixa as much pain as possible. Any captain who shares that desire is welcome to stay and join me.”

  “But Admiral,” Cho said, wearing an expression that looked a lot like pity. “Surely you can see that remaining serves nothing except the cause of vengeance.”

  Keyes felt his mouth twist in disdain. So the rumor that I’m obsessed with vengeance has spread through the fleet. Thanks, Husher. “On the contrary, Captain Cho. Staying to fight the Ixa will delay their pursuit of the civilian fleet. And they will pursue—count on it. Fighting them will also buy time for more humans, Wingers, Tumbra, and Gok to flee the darkgate network and follow the civilian fleet into uncharted space.”

  Offering no answer, Cho’s eyes fell to the deck, his lips pursed.

  “I’ll ask again,” Keyes said. “Will anyone stay with me to fight the Ixa?”

  “I’ll stay,” a small voice said from outside the circle of captains.

  Everyone turned toward it, and at first they couldn’t see its source. Then Piper stepped out from behind the rows of captains in chairs that had hidden him from view.

  “I don’t know how I can contribute,” the diminutive alien said. “But I’ll stay and do what I can. I’ve contributed before.”

  “You have indeed, Piper,” Keyes said. “You have indeed.”

  The Tumbran’s words had a tremendous effect, with most of the captains present following with pledges that they, too, would remain and fight the Ixa.

  Keyes wondered whether, despite his show of wide-eyed bravery, Piper’s interjection might not have been calculated to inspire exactly that effect. A smile spread across his face as he considered it. He felt sure Piper was wilier than anyone gave him credit for, and most people considered him fairly intelligent. But he’s not just book smart.

  While Keyes considered it a noble aim to keep the Ixa from the civilians’ throats a little longer, he secretly considered it impossible to save them from the slaughter. Baxa would hunt those who fled relentlessly, until each one of them was either dead or enslaved.

  No, for Keyes, staying to fight truly was about vengeance. As much vengeance as he could possibly wreak.

  Chapter 51

  Every Drop

  When an alert appeared on his com calling him to the admiral’s office, Husher expected the upcoming engagement in Yclept to be the topic. He figured he’d probably find Fesky there, too, and they’d go over Air Group tactics—maybe plans to leverage the EW squadrons even further against the Ixa’s drone fighters.

  But instead of Fesky, Caine stood at attention in front of Keyes’s desk. That surprised him, since the marines didn’t have any involvement in space battles, other than to ensure order was maintained aboard the supercarrier.

  “Attention!” Keyes barked the moment Husher walked in.

  He snapped to attention beside Caine. “Sir!” he yelled automatically.

  “Did you think you could hide from me what’s been going on between you two?”

  Husher resisted the impulse to exchange glances with the sergeant. “Sir, I don’t—”

  “Don’t feign ignorance with me, Husher. I know about your little affair.”

  His face heating up, Husher met the admiral’s eyes. “I wasn’t going to pretend ignorance. We haven’t been trying to conceal what’s between us from anyone. I mean, we haven’t advertised it, but that’s only because we haven’t defined what it is yet.”

  “Allow me to define it for you: it’s nothing. Whatever you think has been happening between you, it ends today.”

  “What? Why? That’s bull, sir. There’s no chain of command issue between us. And it isn’t against regulations.”

  “There is a chain of command issue, in fact,” Keyes said. “Considering you often go on missions with the marines, there’s a tremendous issue. And that isn’t all. With you two mooning over each other, you’re sure to compromise your effectiveness in the coming conflict. We need to squeeze every drop of efficiency out of every single unit. That goes doubly for both of you, given the positions you hold. I consider the matter settled. From now on, you two will only communicate in a professional capacity.”

  “Yes, sir,” Caine said, quietly.

  Now Husher did turn to face her. Seriously? She’s ready to accept this as easily as that?

  It made a certain sense, of course. He’d never known Caine to defy her Keyes in any way. And the fact that she’d acquiesced to this injustice so easily didn’t make him angry at her, though it did hurt. A lot.

  It only made him angrier at Keyes.

  Husher rounded on the admiral. “Yes, of course, you won’t have emotions happening on your ship. You won’t have humans comforting each other and making what will probably be their final moments even a little enjoyable. All you want aboard the Providence nowadays are cold killing machines, the better to pursue your lust for revenge. That lust has quenched everything that made you a good man, sir. Everything that made me respect you.”

  The admiral stood from his chair and leveled his bluff-faced stare at Husher. For some reason, it wasn’t nearly as effective as it used to be.

  “You have three seconds to leave my office before I toss you in the brig with Wahlburg.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Husher left, knowing that Keyes should have tossed him in the brig anyway.

  The reason he hadn’t done so was because Husher was right: Keyes really did need killing machines—tools with which to effect his vengeance. And Husher couldn’t kill anything from the brig.

  Chapter 52

  In Fact and in Name

  During the rare occasions Teth had the opportunity to converse with his father, he cleared everyone else off of the bridge so that they could speak alone. Yes, he might have spoken to Baxa using the deskcom in the command leader’s office, and yes, clearing the bridge did reduce the Silencer’s readiness level.

  But Teth considered it grossly inappropriate for Baxa’s visage to be displayed on such a small display as the one on his deskcom. He refused to speak with his father on anything except the bridge’s main viewscreen.

  “I do retain some affection for my progeny,” Baxa’s enormous, disembodied head said from the screen. “Even in my current state. As such, I am offering you the opportunity to retain your will, unlike your brethren.”

  Teth bowed his head, considering his father’s words. “Even Ochrim?” he sa
id, looking up once more. “Have you offered the same to him?”

  “I did not offer it,” Baxa said, “since it was already clear what he desired. The last time we spoke, he was in the process of fleeing me. I could have easily apprehended him, but instead I let him go, and allowed him to retain his will as well.”

  “Why, Father? How has he earned it? He betrayed us.”

  “My motives are not for you to know, at present, Teth. There may come a time when I see fit to inform you further. But for now, your world is comprised only of war, as well as the question I have set before you.”

  Teth gave the question thought, for a long moment. At last, he said, “If I do retain my will, I will be susceptible to making mistakes. I won’t make those mistakes, if I allow myself to be subsumed into your will.”

  “You are wise to say so, son.” A thrill shot through Teth at Baxa’s rare use of the word “son.”

  “Thank you, Father.”

  “But fear not. Even if you choose to retain your will, you will always have access to my guidance as you execute your duties. If you are ever on the precipice of committing a tactical or strategic error, I will warn you, so that you might amend your course.”

  “Very well, Father. In that case, I do choose to retain my will, so that I may continue to serve you in fact as well as in name.” Slaves couldn’t serve, not truly—they could only labor.

  “Then you shall retain it, and so shall your crew. I am pleased you have chosen thus, though I knew that you would. It leaves you well-equipped to execute the task I have for you.”

  “What is it?”

  “The Ixa attacking human colonies have granted me the time I required to consolidate my power. They have done well, but it is time for them to return home, so that they might become greater than they are. I will wash away their sins by coring their souls, leaving vessels for my prowess to fill up. I want you to lead them back to me, by any means necessary.”

  “Yes, Father. With pleasure.”

  Chapter 53

  Always in Command

  Keyes stood inside the wreckage of Flight Deck A and gazed out at the stars.

  He’d needed to see them, and not through a viewscreen’s visual sensor feed. A desire to look on the stars mediated only by his pressure suit’s faceplate had brought him here.

  Not many Providence crewmembers knew that one of the Flight Deck A airlocks still functioned. It was one of the many obscure items of mostly irrelevant trivia which, as her captain, he had access to.

  That said, he’d encountered many captains throughout his career who wouldn’t have made a point to know such things. They’d have taken it at face value that one of their primary flight decks was no longer operational, and it wouldn’t have occurred to them to wonder whether any of its airlocks still worked.

  If Keyes had been like them, he wouldn’t be standing out here.

  Few knew the Providence as well as he did. Chief Engineer Victor, perhaps, and possibly—

  “Admiral,” a female voice said into his helmet, and Keyes’s HUD told him she spoke over a two-way channel.

  “Arsenyev.” He turned to see her standing behind him, then turned back to the stars. “I was just thinking about how well you know this ship, and here you are to prove it.”

  She drew up beside him, joining him in staring at the stars. “My presence is less about my knowledge of the ship and more about how well I know you.”

  “Oh?” he said, glancing at her.

  She nodded. “You are troubled, sir. I’ve seen that for a long time, and it’s become more pronounced since we began talking about the civilian populations fleeing. So I asked myself, where does a master tactician go when he wants to be alone? I checked the records to see whether any of Flight Deck A’s airlocks were operational, and after that I had my answer.”

  “I see.”

  “Your feeling troubled would be understandable—”

  “Who’s in charge of the CIC right now?”

  “Werner.”

  “Werner…”

  “As I was saying, it would be understandable for you to feel troubled, given our circumstances, except that I’ve seen you face down hopeless odds with more grit than this. More determination.”

  “I’m very determined, Arsenyev.”

  “You’re determined to kill as many Ixa as you’re able. And I think that’s more about weakness than anything else.”

  Her words would have angered him, another time. “I don’t recall giving you permission to speak freely.”

  “I didn’t ask for it, and you are well within your rights to discipline me. I know that. But I’m willing to risk disciplinary action, because I know how important it is for me to say what I came to say.”

  “Say it, then.”

  Arsenyev turned to face him, her whole body pointed toward him, while he continued to face the jagged edge of his ship through which the stars shone. “I loved you.”

  Now he did turn his head toward her, his eyes widening.

  “I realize how inappropriate that is for me to say, but we’re living what might easily be the last days of our species, and I know I must say it. I loved you, and not just as my captain. I wanted to lie with you, and I dreamed of being your wife. But I don’t anymore. I loved the man who believed in something, who refused to let anything or anyone compromise that belief. The man who stood for something. But the man who is driven only by vengeance and hate? The man who seeks to make the world pay for what it has done to him? I do not love him. I can’t.”

  Keyes couldn’t remember the last time he lacked anything to say. He was always in command—of himself and of his ship.

  But not now. He was completely speechless.

  The silence stretched on for a long time, with Keyes peering out at the stars, emotions warring in his chest. Eventually, he realized Arsenyev had left Flight Deck A, and he was alone.

  “Admiral,” a voice said inside his helmet. It was Werner.

  “Yes. What?”

  “We just entered Larkspur, and there is a large fleet here already.”

  Keyes’s entire body tensed. “Ixa?”

  “Just one. They’ve already identified themselves—it’s Ochrim, accompanied by what he claims is every single Kaithian in existence. I’m getting a transmission request from Ochrim’s ship. Will you speak with him, Admiral?”

  Keyes’s vision clouded and his gut clenched as everything Ochrim had done to humanity came back to him. He wanted to give the order to blast the Ixan’s ship out of existence, and he almost did.

  But then Arsenyev’s words came back to him.

  This isn’t about me. What’s best for humanity?

  “Yes,” he ground out. “I’ll talk to the bastard.”

  Chapter 54

  A Weapon Species

  Ochrim told Keyes he had something to tell all of the allied fleet captains, and that he considered it best not to say anything until Keyes had arranged a fleetwide meeting, which would include the Ixan and select members from the Kaithe.

  “I don’t think so,” Keyes said, refusing to take his eyes off the scientist’s. He noticed his own hands clenching atop the Captain’s chair armrests, and he willed his fingers to uncurl. “We’re done playing by your rules, Ochrim. You’ve earned none of our trust.”

  Deep within his twin facial impressions, the Ixan closed his eyes. “I brought you the Kaithe.”

  “They haven’t done much to earn our trust, either.” Rising to his feet, Keyes leveled a finger at the viewscreen. “Here’s how this is going to work. If you have something to say, you can say it in a Providence interrogation room, under heavy guard. You’ll bring Aheera with you, along with the Kaithian that banished us from their planet when I asked for their help. They’ll know which one. I’ll ensure your safety from my crew, Ochrim, though they want nothing more than to put a bullet in your head. But I can’t guarantee your safety from me. Let’s just say that whatever you have for me, it had better be good.”

  Ochrim blinked. “Th
ese are not sound negotiation tactics, Captain—”

  “It’s Admiral now.”

  “Very well. I’ll say it again—I brought you the Kaithe, whose help humanity sorely needs. It’s irresponsible for you to stand in the way.”

  “No, it would be irresponsible for me to give you access to my captains before I know what you’re up to. We can lay at least seven hundred thousand deaths at your feet, Ixan, brought about by your subversion of dark tech. Personally, I attribute to you the billions who’ve died in Sol and other systems.” Arsenyev was looking at Keyes as he spoke, and he met her eyes briefly before returning his stare to Ochrim. “I’m not interested in negotiating with you. If you’ve truly come to offer aid, and you’re dedicated to that, then this is how it must be. It’s the height of arrogance and stupidity for you to expect anything else.”

  “You…are right, Admiral Keyes.” Ochrim bowed his head. “I will submit myself into your custody.”

  “Take a single shuttle to the Providence—noncombat. One of the Kaithe’s craft should do nicely. I’ll meet you in Hangar Bay H. Expect to have a lot of guns pointing at you.”

  He ordered Sergeant Caine to meet him in the hangar bay with a full platoon of her best marines, including a squad’s worth of Gok and one of Wingers, too. Caine herself would remain in touch with Ek, to whom she’d relay a live feed of the proceedings. If the Fin detected anything of concern, she’d let Caine know, who’d order her marines to subdue the arriving aliens immediately.

  Ochrim exited the shuttle with his arms raised, as did the shorter Kaithe who flanked him, though their tails dragged on the ground, and Keyes knew exactly what those powerful appendages were capable of.

  “Not you, Aheera,” he called. “You may lower your arms and step away from your companions, if you wish. You have earned our trust and respect.”

  Aheera lowered her arms, but she didn’t leave Ochrim’s side. “I will remain with them.”

  Keyes nodded. “Then let’s go.”

  The marines marched the trio of aliens down the hall, their weapons trained on Ochrim and the Kaithian whose name Keyes still didn’t know.