“Because Bandar was there to keep an eye on me.” He looked at the old soldier’s face through a cloud of cigar smoke. Only thirty-eight years old, but he could pass for ten, fifteen years older than that. Just what kind of hell had he been through?
“That’s right,” Bandar said. “And you made it hard, sometimes. Flying around in those junk-heap racing ships, getting into scrapes with people you shouldn’t even have been dealing with. At times, you were a real pain in my ass.”
Kai laughed and ran his hands through his hair.
“I swear, you keep that up, and you’re going to be bald by the time you’re thirty,” Bandar said.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Kai said. “How did you get sucked into this?”
“Well, someone needed to keep an eye on you and at the same time set up shop on one of the outer worlds as a criminal mastermind.”
“Mastermind?” Kai asked, eyebrows raised.
“Well, a good lot smarter than most, anyway. So, while I was making sure you didn’t get killed by the criminal element you worked for, I also kept my ear to the ground for any information on the Host.”
“What does Zarunda have to do with the Host?”
“Think about it, Kai. It’s an outer world, far from the center of Coalition space.”
“And closer to Host territory.” Kai nodded in understanding.
“Bingo. It’s practically an outpost here-there-be-dragons world. A perfect spot to set up an intelligence-gathering post.”
“But why pose as a criminal? Why not a farmer or a shopkeeper or something?”
“Simple,” Bandar said. “Thieves, killers, grifters, scum of the universe, they have a highly sharpened instinct about the secret comings and goings of the people in power.” He paused to relight his cigar. “Well, the good ones do, anyway. So if there were rumblings about the Host encroaching back into Coalition space, they would be the first ones to hear about it. Mainly the smugglers.”
“Makes sense, I guess.” Kai folded his arms across his chest. “But why you?”
“I already knew you; at least I did when you were a young one.” He looked at Brenna, and a small smile touched his lips. Brenna refilled her coffee mug. “Besides, when you get right down to it, it was a family matter.”
Silence reigned again as Kai took some time to process all of this information. It wasn’t precisely new—he’d had similar thoughts on the subject in the darkest parts of the night—but it was nice to have it all laid out, spoken aloud. But there was one more piece he needed.
“And what about my birth mother?” he asked Brenna.
She leaned forward, elbows on the table, and rotated her coffee cup on the smooth surface. It made a minute scraping sound. “To be honest, I don’t know all that much about her,” she said finally. “Or her relationship with your father. He didn’t talk a whole lot about it.”
“Tell me what you do know,” Kai said.
“They met sometime after your father’s disappearance.” She glanced at Bandar, who was concentrating on the tip of his cigar, and then back at Kai. “After the war, I mean. He met several Navigators, and she was one of them. A queen of some sort.”
“A queen? Really?”
“Yes, really. At least that’s what Kendal told me. She was dying and needed to create an offspring to whom she could pass on her genetic code and powers to.” Brenna took a long, slow pull on her coffee. “Ultimately, that was you.”
“Okay, but how did they meet?” It was his turn to lean forward now; his steady gaze grew intense.
“I don’t know, Kai.” She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms and sat back. “You’re going to have to ask Kendal about that when we find him.”
“If we find him,” Kai said. “And if he’s still alive. Have to locate the Spearhead first.”
“We’ll find him,” Bandar said. “Trust me, Kai, Kendal is too good and too stubborn to die out in the boonies.”
“So, my mother… birth mother… wanted to pass her powers on to me,” Kai said.
“That was the plan, according to Kendal,” Brenna answered. She finished off her coffee and rubbed her temples.
“Well, I sure don’t feel like I have any powers or anything. I mean, I feel like the potential for… something is there.” Kai tapped his forehead in frustration. “If I could just manage to unlock all this Navigator crap in my head.”
“Don’t push too hard,” Brenna said with a yawn. “And now, if you don’t mind, I have to get some sleep. Being on Patari wasn’t exactly like staying at a five-star hotel on Capsis Prime.”
“Prison cells aren’t known for their comforts,” Bandar said.
“Oh, thank you so much for that keen observation,” she snapped.
Bandar raised his hands, palms out.
“I’m sorry,” Brenna said and shook her head. “I’m just exhausted.”
“Come on.” Bandar stood and tipped his head at the door. “I’ll show you where the crew quarters are.”
Brenna gave him a weak smile and got to her feet. She patted Kai on the shoulder as she passed and followed her other son out of the kitchen.
A great deal of information had been imparted, and Kai had a lot to think about. He was mostly curious about the Navigator powers he was supposed to inherit, whatever they were. He decided to head to the bridge. He seemed to think better sitting in the captain’s position.
“And maybe I’ll have another vision or something,” he muttered to the empty kitchen on his way out.
He entered the bridge and Senaya was sitting on the command couch, her head hunched over something. Marella was nowhere to be seen.
“Hey,” he said as he approached. Senaya glanced at him over her shoulder, the diodes in her mohawk tinkling against each other.
“Hey,” she said. She turned back to look at whatever was in her lap.
Kai sat down next to her and saw that she was watching the old footage of the aftermath of her cousins’ assassination.
“Why are you watching that?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Senaya said and started the recording from the beginning. “It’s been on my mind a great deal lately.” She paused the video and pointed to a woman at the back of the crowd. The woman mimed shooting her cousin with her forefinger, and a grim smile touched her lips.
“You can’t kill her again,” Kai said.
“I know that.” Senaya shrugged and set the holoscroll down on the couch beside her. She pulled her legs up and rested her chin on her knees. “It doesn’t make any sense, you know?”
“What doesn’t?”
“Why my cousins were murdered.” She turned her head to look at him and for a brief moment looked like that little girl he had met all those years ago. An angry-as-hell version of that girl. “I mean, the war was all but over. The Host already surrendered. From what I’ve been told, they were just there to mop up, you know? Peace negotiation stuff. Why even bother assassinating anyone at that point?”
“I really don’t know.” He shook his head and felt helpless.
“I really wish we’d taken a DNA sample from that witch back on Zarunda like you suggested.” She shrugged again and let her feet drop to the floor. “Oh well. Too late now, I guess.”
Kai wondered if the authorities on Zarunda had bothered to ID the trader that Senaya killed, and if so, would they be able to get that information? With Brenna’s GTU connections, perhaps she could pull some strings, get a name, a little background, anything really.
“I have an idea,” he said. “Why don’t you let Marella take a look at the video?”
“Marella? Why?”
“She’s really good at sussing out information. Hell, it was part of her job before we met her.”
“So?” Senaya placed her hand protectively on the holoscroll without even realizing she did it. “There’s nothing there, Kai. I’ve probably watched it a thousand times.”
“And that might be the problem. You’ve seen it too much, but Marella hasn’t seen it at all. She
’ll have fresh eyes, a fresh perspective, and might be able to come up with something you missed.”
“I don’t know…” She looked dubious.
“Come on, what could it hurt? If she can’t find anything, then you’re no further away from answers than you are right now.”
“It’s worth a try, I guess.”
“Good.” Kai looked around the bridge. “Do you know where she is?”
“In her bunk. She said she needed to stretch out for a bit.”
“Let’s go.”
Kai and Senaya left the bridge and headed for the crew quarters. They found Marella’s berth and knocked. Seconds later the door opened.
“Did we wake you?” Senaya asked. “We can come back.”
“No, no,” Marella said. “Come on in.”
They followed her into her cabin and Kai marveled at her height. He was so used to seeing her sitting on the bridge, hunched over her control board, that he sometimes forgot just how tall she was.
“What can I do for you?” Marella asked.
Senaya told her all she knew about the assassination, playing with one of the luminescent diodes in her hair.
“Would it be too much bother for you to maybe take a look?” Senaya asked.
“That’s terrible,” Marella said. “And of course I’ll look it over.”
“Thanks,” Senaya said, an embarrassed smile on her face. She held the holoscroll out with one hand.
“Think nothing of it, Sen,” Marella said and took the proffered scroll. “I’ll get started analyzing right away.”
Chapter 12
GENERAL HOMINOS ENSURED his office door was closed and then crossed the room and sat behind his large ornate desk.
He still wasn’t accustomed to this new office, previously occupied by General Amelia. The desk was twice the size of his old one, the carpeting plush and spongy under his boots.
It had only been a few days since Amelia’s defection to the Host, but all traces of her presence had already been wiped out.
The bookshelves aligned against one wall were empty save for the same old military history books that seem to find residence in every officer’s library. He hadn’t had time yet to fill the blank walls with his own memorabilia—pictures of his first command, family mementos, his degree from the academy—but he would have enough time for a more personal touch once this crisis passed.
The chronometer on his desk beeped twice, a soft reminder that the operation was about to begin. He tapped his password and credentials into his computer and sent a message to the Vector, a GTU scout and spy ship heading to rendezvous with a group of ships. The battalion was fast approaching striking distance of the new, terrible weapon the Host had got their hands on.
The video feed on his monitor opened on a young male face. Dark, short cropped hair, pale blue eyes, a strong jaw. And doesn’t look a day over fifteen, Hominos thought.
“GTU Vector, this is General Hominos.”
“We read you five by five, General,” the young man said.
“And who is it I’m speaking with?”
An introduction should’ve been the first thing this young officer offered, and Hominos fought to hide his annoyance at the protocol breach. There was a time for the carrot and a time for the stick. This was not the time for the latter.
Besides, it was never comfortable behind enemy lines, as they were.
“Pardon me, sir,” the young man said. The general was happy to see a flustered expression on his face. “I’m Agent Emil Johnson.”
“Johnson? That’s an old name. Don’t see a lot of Johnsons around anymore.”
“Yes, sir,” Agent Johnson said.
“If I recall correctly, there was a Colonel Johnson at the academy?”
“That would be my father, sir.” A smile cracked upon Agent Johnson’s face that told the general the young man had heard that many, many times before.
“He was a good instructor,” Hominos said. “Is he still there?”
“No, sir. He retired ten years ago.”
“Well, the next time you talk to him, tell him Ratic Hominos sends his best.”
“I’ll do that. Thank you, sir.”
Hominos straightened in his seat and shot a piercing gaze at Agent Johnson. Time for business.
“What’s the status?” he asked.
“Sir, we are in-system and ETA to engagement is…” Johnson’s eyes slipped to one side for a moment and then returned. “Five minutes, thirty-eight seconds, sir.”
“Excellent,” Hominos said. “Keep this channel open, but share the feed of the battle with me.”
“Yes, sir,” Agent Johnson said.
The screen shifted from the nose of the Vector, which was located in the rear of the fleet, to an exterior view, observing and relaying strategic commands.
Several classes of starship—from frigates to battle cruisers—spanned the width of the field of view.
A small part of Hominos wished he was there, leading these brave men and women from the front. But he knew that he was of more value to the CDF right here on Capsis Prime.
“Host fleet in sight,” Agent Johnson said. “And, gods, what is that thing?”
“The reason you’re out there.”
A massive warship, directly ahead but off-center to the right of the screen, hovered in space. The sheer size of it sent a tendril of unease snaking up Hominos’s spine.
“Destroyers are engaging now,” Johnson said. His voice had risen half an octave, and there was a note of edge that wasn’t present before.
That behemoth had him spooked. But Hominos couldn’t blame the young agent, not really. That was exactly how he’d felt when he had witnessed it for the first time.
The leading edge of the CDF battalion launched their attack on their opposites in this small Host battle group. The Coalition had the enemy outnumbered and outgunned, and things looked to be going well for them. In the first moments of the engagement two Host ships were broken in half from torpedo attacks, and a third was limping away, trailing smoke from one of its two main engines. CDF vessels closed in to finish wiping the small force out.
And then all hell broke loose.
Hominos caught a brief flicker from the superweapon. His stomach clenched.
A now familiar dark energy fired from the open nose of the vessel, warping space as it went. It caught the broadside of one of the battle cruisers, which had been turning in pursuit of an escaping Host ship. The warship shuddered from stem to stern and then broke in two, spewing smoke and flame briefly into space.
A series of explosions rocked the hull of the doomed craft.
Agent Johnson gasped over the comm.
The remaining battle force turned to face the real threat and, in doing so, immediately signed their own death warrants.
The superweapon fired its antigravity weapon at each of the attacking ships in relatively quick succession. In turn, they launched weapons of their own—torpedoes, missiles, and even a pair of nukes—but to no real effect.
Hominos clenched a fist with each impact, hoping beyond hope that they would do some damage. But the damned thing was just too big, too heavily armored, for conventional weapons to do much harm.
The same was not true for the Host’s antigravity weapon.
As each Coalition vessel was struck by the shimmering beam, it shuddered and then exploded in a series of concussive bursts.
Hominos leaned forward in his chair, his nose mere inches from the computer monitor.
“Seven Hells,” he said.
Somehow, some way, that antigravity beam was punching through the hulls of those ships and setting off their ordnance. “They’re using our own weapons against us.”
And then it was over. The video feed from the Vector continued for several moments, but the audio was dead. Or there was no one alive aboard the spy vessel to send any updates. Based on the circular rotation of the feed, Hominos decided the latter was probably the case.
The massive enemy ship shimmered. Ho
minos was about to kill the feed but stopped, his finger poised over the button. The superweapon vanished from the screen. It didn’t enter any kind of subspace, nothing at all like that.
It just vanished.
He leaned back in his chair—the plush, comfortable chair he’d fallen in love with the first time he sat in it—and let out a long shuddering breath. The light hair all over his body stood on end. He glanced at his chronometer, and it showed him that only ten minutes had passed.
Ten minutes to destroy an entire Coalition battalion.
He knew this was a possibility, of course. It was his job to consider every outcome of every engagement, but he didn’t spend much thought on this conclusion.
He had hoped that even with the losses expected, they’d do enough damage to the Host behemoth to slow it down, or at least incapacitate it, but it was like children throwing sticks at a giant.
“An entire battalion,” he muttered and slammed a fist down onto his desk.
Who the hell were these Host allies?
He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths to regain himself, part of a meditation technique he’d learned long ago. He let his mind drift. Men died in combat; it was part of the deal they signed up for. Except those who were conscripted, but even that was part of living in a society based on the defense of freedom.
Sometimes blood had to be spilled. And those weren’t just words floating around in his mind; he truly believed them. He’d dedicated his entire life to those ideals, in fact.
Hominos opened his eyes, centered now. He tapped a few commands into his computer and reviewed the short battle from the beginning. When it concluded, he restarted it and continued this process for another ten minutes. Something about that new warship was niggling at his mind, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
Two more cycles through and he saw it.
The ship never moved away from the system’s star. It merely hovered there in place, not even really in orbit around it. And there was energy streaming from the sun to the ship.
“It’s using the star to power itself,” Hominos muttered to the empty room.
He loaded the transmission into a message and sent it off to the analysis department, calling them immediately.
Magnitude: A Space Opera Adventure (Blackstar Command Book 2) Page 9