“That’s great,” Trent smiled. “But how do we do that?”
All at once, the door to the brig foyer flew open, and one of the crewman of the Golden Storm rushed in and quickly slammed the door shut behind him. Oblivious to the recently emancipated prisoners, he worked feverishly to activate the inner lock, making sure that no one without so much as a grenade would come through the door. Satisfied that the door was secure, he withdrew two side arms and aimed them at the door. Cautiously, the pirate stepped backward into the room, his eyes and the aim of his weapons never leaving the door. It wasn’t until he bumped into a large, soft mass that the crewman stopped. Craning his head slowly over his shoulders, he caught sight of a large forearm. Following the armor-coated appendage, the crewman’s eyes moved further and further up until they locked into the gaze of the Kafaran who had been stunned on the bridge earlier.
“Good afternoon,” Tausan said slowly.
“He-hello,” the man replied nervously.
Shawn stepped over to the young man, cautious about staying outside the field of fire of his weapons. “I’ll just take those, if you don’t mind,” he said, easily pulling the guns from the stunned crewman’s hands.
“Yeah … sure,” the young man stammered, still looking into the ruby eyes of the Kafaran.
“What’s going on out there?” Shawn asked as he tossed one of pistols to Melissa, but the young man remained speechless.
“I think you should answer him,” Tausan said as he looked down at the small human.
“B-boar-boarders,” he stammered. “Boarders. We’re being boarded.”
“That’s better,” Tausan said with a nod.
The young man swallowed hard. “Wow. You’re really tall,” he whispered, his voice trembling with fear. “And scary.”
“What’s your name, son?” Shawn asked, but he could see that the colonel had the pirate’s undivided attention.
“I’m-I’m—”
“Yes?” Tausan enticed.
“I-I’m-I’m going to pass out now, if you don’t mind.” And with that, the crewman’s eyes rolled up into his head as his body slumped to the floor.
“Was is something I said?” Tausan asked as he regarded the body.
Shawn smirked. “I think it has more to do with those dashing good looks of yours.”
“At least we know what’s happening,” Melissa said, checking the young man and finding a strong pulse.
“The question is, what do we do with that information?” Shawn replied.
“There’s a saying among my people,” Tausan piped in. “An ally is made from my enemies’ enemy.”
“We have a similar saying,” McDermott said. “Perhaps it’s one more thing to help build a foundation for our two people to come to terms with each other.”
Always the diplomat. “A fortune cookie is a long way off from a peace treaty, Ambassador,” Shawn said. “Besides, we have bigger fish to fry.”
“I’m so hungry,” Trent murmured. “Let’s not use any more food analogies, okay?”
Disregarding Trent, Shawn handed one of the pilfered side arms to Tausan. “Colonel, as far as I can tell, you’re still in charge. What’s next?”
“We’re on board ship, Commander, and you are more familiar with these surroundings than I. I will, for the time being, defer to your experience.”
“All right, then. Let’s get started. First, we make sure the passageway outside is empty.”
“And from there?” McDermott asked.
“We make it to the engine room.”
“Why not the bridge?”
“Because, Ambassador, if we control the power plant we control the vessel.”
Trent nodded in approval. “Besides,” he added, “it’s very likely that the auxiliary control room is situated near engineering—if this ship has such a place.”
Shawn turned to Tausan. “Once the door is open, you take the high position in one direction and I’ll take the low one in the other. With any luck, we’ll get the drop on anyone out there.”
“But if we’re being boarded,” Melissa began, “then how will you tell one pirate from the other?”
“Who said I was interested in telling the difference?”
“Agreed,” Tausan said. “It will be better to shoot first and make the distinction later. We may be walking into an even bigger problem with two parties against us.”
Shawn reached over and set Tausan’s pistol to non-lethal. “That will knock out any Rugorian for a good few hours.”
“Interesting,” the Kafaran said as he regarded the weapon. “Our weapons have no such distinction.”
“You were just going to shoot to kill?” Shawn asked in disbelief.
The Colonel seemed to regard his statement with mixed curiosity. “Is there any other reason to do so?”
Shawn let out a chuckle, then turned to McDermott. “Still think we’re going to make good allies?”
“The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step, Commander.”
“More fortune cookies,” Shawn muttered, then motioned Tausan to join him at the door. Standing near the control panel, Shawn crouched in anticipation. “I’ll open the door and then we make our move. Agreed?”
The colonel nodded wordlessly as Shawn reached for the control switch. “On three. One. Two. Three.” He pressed the button and the door popped open. Shawn pivoted out of the door and to the left, and Tausan pointed his weapon above the commander to the right. The passageway was deserted.
Shawn careened his head up to face Tausan. “Well, this is a good start.”
Suddenly a slew of pirates came barreling around the far right corner, weapons blazing, screaming some sort of battle cry at the top of their lungs. Shawn and Tausan barely had enough time to duck back into the brig lobby before a dozen energy bolts whizzed past their heads.
“Now what?” Melissa said as she knelt by Shawn.
“We shut the door!” He reached up and slammed his fist against the control panel, causing the lobby door to abruptly close. “And if anyone knocks, we do not let them in.”
“The natives seem a bit restless tonight,” Trent said as he worked feverishly at the door controls.
“Restless? I’d say they’re downright belligerent,” Shawn said, switching his weapon to “kill.” “What is it you’re doing up there?”
“I’m locking the door with an encryption key,” Trent replied smartly.
Shawn looked at him with uncertainty. “You can do that?”
“Do it?” Trent laughed. “Try ‘already done.’ That should hold them for a while.”
When the pirates on the other side failed to gain access to the brig, they began to pound on the door. It sounded like a dozen fists, all smacking the steel surface out of harmony. A moment later, the beating abruptly stopped. When nearly a full minute had passed, Shawn stepped toward the door, placing his ear against its surface in an attempt to hear what was going on beyond it. A series of soft knocks at the door caused him to reel back.
“That’s sounds pretty cordial,” Melissa said. That was when a disembodied voice began to echo in the small compartment.
“Hello? You there, in the brig.”
Shawn and the rest looked into the overhead, trying to decide where the intercom speakers were.
Shawn took the liberty of speaking for the group. “Yeah?”
“Would you kindly open the door please?” the male voice asked.
“Why? So we can get blasted to pieces?”
The voice chuckled. “I can assure you all that no such thing will happen.”
“And I’m supposed to take your word for that?”
“I’m afraid you have very little choice in the matter, sir,” the voice said with assurance. “That being said, the House of Fiefs is now in control of the vessel. My name is Captain Voula, and I command the warship Leader’s Pride. We are not in the habit of either taking offworlders prisoners nor harming those we deem our guests.”
“What about the crew?”
/>
“The captain and the crew of the Golden Storm have been detained for acts of sedition, but are otherwise unharmed. Now, will you kindly open the door? If we are forced to do it for you, we cannot be held accountable for any damage that such an entry might cause.”
“In other words,” Shawn sighed, “you’ll blow the door.”
“Precisely.”
Turning to Melissa and the rest, Shawn looked for any sign that would make his decision palatable. Not surprisingly, it was McDermott who spoke up, albeit it in a muted tone.
“Commander, we must begin a dialogue with these people at some point. The safety of the Unified Collaboration depends on it. I see no reason why now is not an excellent opportunity to do so.”
“And just let them come on in, guns blazing.”
“It’s a show of good faith on our part, Commander. Besides, I believe Captain Voula’s intentions to be honorable.”
“You can tell that from a few short sentences over the address system?”
“Commander, you may be a satisfactory pilot, but diplomacy is not your area of expertise.”
Sighing, Shawn stepped closer to the door control panel. “I hope you’re right.” He then looked to the overhead before addressing Voula. “All right, Captain. We’re opening the door, but I don’t want to see a single weapon raised against us.”
“It will be as you request.”
Shawn looked to Tausan, who seemed to be on high alert. “Keep that gun handy, Colonel, and make sure you’ve set it to ‘disable.’” The Kafaran grunted an acknowledgement. Holding his own weapon in his right hand, Shawn reached out and pressed the release button, then stepped back to the center of the group.
As the doors parted, Shawn and the rest could see that their emancipators shared none of the outward appearance of their previous abductors. Gone were the ragtag, tattered clothes of a disorganized group. These Rugorians were dressed in matching gray uniforms, piped with blood-red trim, and highly polished black boots and gauntlets rounding out the overtly militaristic look. There were three such uniformed men, each roughly about six feet tall. Their black rifles were dangling from straps around their shoulders, but not otherwise threatening. From behind them stepped a fourth, whose uniform and piping colors were reversed.
“I’m First Officer Litto of the Leader’s Pride,” he said as he scanned the assembly until his eyes fell on Tausan. “A Kafaran?” he asked, more amused than shocked. “Amongst humans?”
“My name is Ambassador Scott McDermott,” the ambassador said as he stepped out from behind Shawn. “I represent the Unified Collaboration of Systems. This is Colonel Tausan of the Kafaran Alliance.”
Litto’s eyes shifted to the younger man, but he remained oriented toward the Kafaran. His eyes then scanned over Trent, Melissa, Shawn, then finally back to the ambassador. “You are on a diplomatic mission?”
“That’s correct,” McDermott said confidently. “One of the utmost importance. During our journey, we were captured by—”
“Then the rumors are true?” Litto said, almost visibly shaken by the revelation unfolding before him. “The Army of Light … it exists?”
“It does,” Tausan said with a slow nod.
Litto mouth slacked as his eyes slipped to the floor. Shawn could tell that the first officer was processing the information before wagering to say anything out of order. Admirable.
“Then,” Litto began, his voice sounding distant. “Am I further to believe that there is a new threat to our region of space—one that intends to eradicate us all?”
“How do you know about that?” Melissa asked in surprise.
Litto’s men looked to one another with worried expressions. When they began to whisper amongst themselves, Litto silenced them with a raised hand. He had neither turned to look at them nor took his eyes from the floor. He’s obviously well respected, Shawn contemplated.
“Then our greatest fears are realized,” Litto almost whispered, then took a deep swallow as he regained his composure. Taking a deep breath, he stood upright and stared directly at McDermott. “Ambassador, please follow me. Captain Voula will have many questions for you.”
“And my people?”
“They will accompany you,” Litto agreed with a nod, then looked at Tausan. “The captain will require as much information as possible about this … development.” He pointed a black-gloved hand toward the door behind him. “Please, if you’d kindly follow me and my men to the bridge.”
“Of course,” McDermott said with a subtle bow.
“Your weapons,” Litto said as he inclined his head to Shawn.
“Aren’t leaving our possession until after we’ve talked to Captain Voula,” Shawn amended.
“And you are?” Litto asked as an eyebrow rose on his forehead.
“Commander Shawn Kestrel, Unified Sector Command.”
A faint smile crept across the first officer’s face, then he bowed his head. “You may retain your weapons, Commander Kestrel. We will not attempt to disarm you.”
Good. “Good.”
*
Once the Shawn and his party were escorted to the bridge, he and the others noted that both Captain Hast and First Mate Makau were both in restraints and sequestered into a non-critical corner. Makau had a deep cut above one eye, but otherwise looked unharmed. Hast looked enraged, his face covered with a mixture of sweat and grime, likely the result of the battle with the Leader’s Pride. Both were guarded by men in gray uniforms, and judging by the multiple weapons they carried in webbed harnesses, the sentries were some form of commando team.
In the center of the bridge, near the forward view port, was a tall Rugorian in a red uniform similar to that of the first officers. He turned around, and Shawn looked into the ice-blue eyes of an older man who had no doubt seen his share of action. Several deep scars crisscrossed his once-handsome face, and his long nose was skewed near the bridge, the result of a past break. The stoic man regarded the prisoners as First Officer Litto had, even reproducing surprise as his eyes fell on the lone Kafaran. The man neither smiled nor frowned; he simply gave each member of the team a deep inspection before moving to the next. When at last his eyes fell on Shawn, he stepped forward and extended a hand.
“I am Fleet Captain Voula of the Rugorian warship Leader’s Pride,” he said in a measured tone.
Knowing that all eyes—especially McDermott’s—were on him, Shawn confidently stepped up to take the captain’s hand. “Commander Shawn Kestrel, Unified Sector Command.”
“Commander,” Voula said, gripping Shawn’s hand powerfully. “Do you lead this … group?”
The corner of Shawn’s mouth twitched upward as he tried, and failed, to mimic the Rugorian’s impressive grasp. “I do my best. Sometimes …” his words trailed off as he shrugged. “Not as well as they deserve.”
Voula smiled. “I appreciate an honest man, Commander. Humility will take you far with me. And the rest of your people?”
Shawn turned, gesturing to each with a wave of his hand. “Ship’s mechanic, Sergeant Trent Maddox. Intelligence Officer Melissa Graves. Special envoy and tactical coordinator, Colonel Tausan of the Kafaran Alliance. And lastly, Ambassador Scott McDermott, Unified Collaboration of Systems.”
“Ambassador,” Voula said, bowing gracefully. “I am honored. It isn’t often we play host to a diplomatic official,” he then turned to Tausan and bowed once again, “let alone a high-ranking Kafaran officer. In fact, I don’t believe I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting one of your people face to face in a time of … peace, shall we say?”
“Peace,” Tausan repeated evenly, “is far from the state we are currently in.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to do better than that, Colonel.” Voula then clasped his large hands in front of him. “I’m curious as to why you are here aboard the Golden Storm. I hope your tale is as interesting as the company you keep.”
“We could say the same for you,” Shawn replied as diplomatically as possible.
“Any e
xplanation I could give you would be meaningless at this juncture, Commander. Suffice it to say that, as a fleet captain, I hold a position of authority in our government, and that gives me all the right I need to be here. Besides, I’m not in the habit of volunteering information when it is clearly I who already have the upper hand in this encounter.”
“We don’t have time for this,” McDermott spoke up impatiently from behind Shawn.
Voula raised an eyebrow in McDermott’s direction. “You have something to add, Ambassador?”
“We are on our way to Rugor for a diplomatic mission, Captain Voula,” he said, stepping around Shawn with ease.
“Really?” Voula almost laughed. “Under what pretenses? I’m aware of no request by our government for such a discussion.”
“It is the Army of Light, Captain,” Litto said from behind the assembly. “It is confirmed, sir.”
Voula’s eyes shot to his first officer. “Is it now?” He then wavered his gaze slowly between Shawn and Tausan, finally landing on the Kafaran. “And the threat from outside our galaxy, the one that has been whispered about over the last several months. Is this confirmed as well?”
“It is, Captain,” Tausan acknowledged with a nod.
Voula sighed heavily, then reached into a fold in his well-pressed jacket. What at first Shawn thought might be a weapon emerged as a cigar. Pulling a silvery lighter from his pocket, the captain lit it as he turned back toward the forward view port.
“Lies,” Captain Hast spat from the corner of the room. “All lies. Do not believe them, Voula!”
Voula turned slowly to Hast, letting out a long held breath of smoke in the pirate captain’s direction. “And am I to believe you instead? You who subvert your true leadership?”
“At least I am one of your own. I am a Rugorian.” He then turned to face Melissa. “These offworlders are nothing but liars. They would say anything to save their own skin.”
Voula took another pull from his cigar has he regarded the pirate captain, bound and on his knees in the corner. “You’re a traitor to your own people, Hast.” He then leaned down to stare the former captain of the Golden Storm in the eyes, lowering his voice ominously as he spoke. “And I’ll see you hang for it. Of that you can be sure.” When no rebuttal came from Hast after a moment, Voula stood. With a single wave of his hand, Hast and Makau were ushered from the bridge under armed escort. Voula then turned to the Unified delegation and scanned each of them in great detail once more. Walking toward Melissa, he waited until it was absolutely necessary to remove the cigar from his mouth. “You are the intelligence officer, yes?”
In the Presence of My Enemies Page 15