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The Army Of Light (Kestrel Saga)

Page 23

by Fender, Stephen


  “Then you don’t deny speaking to Toyotomi Katashi?”

  “No sir.” So, something Toyo told Shawn and I had a ring of truth to it? Whatever it was, it was something the Director was trying hard to keep under wraps, that much was for certain. There was no way the Director would have come this far from the Core Worlds for something so trivial as wild rumors or unsubstantiated speculations. If Toyo was right, if there was more than a modicum of truth to the Army of Light, than these truly are ‘dangerous times’.

  The Director only made a slight humming sound as he acknowledged her reply.

  She was still trying with all of her internal strength to keep her emotions in check. “Shawn… Mister Kestrel… he doesn’t know anything, sir.” Melissa knew full well that if Shawn did know anything, he’d be a threat to whatever secret the Director was trying to keep out of the public networks. She also knew from firsthand experience how the OSI dealt with internal intelligence threats.

  “I simply hired him to ferry me to Corvan, sir. Nothing more.”

  “Come now, Miss Graves,” he asked with an air of contempt as he shook his head slowly. “You of all people know the futility of a statement like that to someone such as myself. After all, how many times have you been in the reverse of this situation with others in the course of your duties? And, in those instances, what would you have done about it?” he shook his head indifferently. “No. I’m afraid, Miss Graves, that you’ll have to do better than that.”

  She attempted to keep her self-control as an image of Shawn floated across her mind, the face of a man she—and everyone else in the universe—would likely never see again after today. The Director, in no short terms, had made his intentions about Shawn’s and Toyo’s fate clear. All she could do now was beg. “Please, sir,” her voice cracked under the weight of the situation. “Let him go.”

  The Director leaned back in his chair, making his already obscure face even more hidden by the shadows. “It’s too late for that. Your joint meeting with Katashi has, regrettably, sealed all of their fates.” His tone was laced with sorrow she knew full well he didn’t feel. “It’s very disappointing. Both Mister Kestrel and Mister Katashi were people to be admired.”

  She wondered what Shawn could have done to warrant such high regard from the Director. “Captain Kestrel doesn’t know anything.”

  The Director only shook his head and slowly repeated himself. “Such a pity, for all parties concerned.”

  So, she thought miserably. That’s it. First Shawn would conveniently disappear, then Toyo. That would mean me, too… and Trent. Maybe even Jacques De Lorme. Okay, so loosing De Lorme wouldn’t be so bad. Still, Jack was something of an innocent in all of this. None of them deserved the judgment they would never see coming, save for Melissa herself. She had brought this down on all of them, and she wished with all her heart that she alone could bear the punishment. Unfortunately, she knew that was not the way of the OSI.

  “What are you going to do now, sir?” Her eyes began to fill with tears. She chided herself for not being stronger, but she managed to keep the majority of her emotions locked inside.

  The Director gradually leaned forward, causing a single overhead spotlight to shine down directly across the top of his head. No longer shrouded by the darkness, first his nose, then his prominent cheekbones came into an unobstructed view. He reached up and slowly removed the dark sunglasses, gingerly placing them on the table top. When caught at just the right angle, the Director’s eyes looked as if they’d been replaced by softly glowing aquamarine orbs—like cat’s eyes caught in the light of oncoming traffic. Never in her life had she seen such a thing on a human before. Other species, yes, but never like this. It was as terrifying as it was fascinating, and it sent chills up her spine as he coldly stared at her.

  “The real question, Miss Graves, is what are you going to do?”

  “Me, sir?” she asked back in utter confusion.

  He smiled a malicious, toothy grin which did nothing to ease the trepidation she was currently feeling. “Yes, Miss Graves. You.”

  *

  Shawn brought a hand to his chin and rubbed absently at the stubble as he pondered Krif’s statement. “So, if you’re telling me that it wasn’t your idea to get me up here, then whose was it?”

  Krif shrugged. “I could give you any number of names in the admiralty that wanted this to happen, some of whom you even know—all of whom will remain anonymous for the time being. Hell, even the council had a say in it. But, I’m thinking you want to know who it really boils down to. Am I right?”

  Shawn stiffly nodded once.

  Krif’s only response was to nod his head in the direction of the briefing room door.

  It took only a moment for Shawn to make the connection. “The OSI?”

  Krif turned to face the view port, and with his arms folded tightly across his chest, nodded once. “To more precisely answer your question, it was probably the Director himself, or someone else with an enormous amount of clout in the Unified government.” Krif then shook his head wordlessly before he continued. “Now that you’re here, and considering you’re not going anywhere anytime soon, does it really matter?”

  “I think it does.”

  “Well I don’t,” Krif snapped. “As for me, I personally received the order—”

  “From who?”

  “Damn it, Kestrel!” Krif yelled, spinning sharply on his heel to face Shawn. “From Sector Command, who do you think?”

  “Are you saying the Director doesn’t have you wrapped around his little finger?”

  “I work for Sector Command, hot-shot. My orders came directly from the Commander, Second Fleet, Admiral William Blackwell. He tells me where to go and I go. No one else.”

  The name Blackwell sounded familiar, and Shawn promised himself a moment to research it later. He eyed Krif dubiously. “With Sector Command silently bowing to the OSI in this matter, it would seem.”

  “You need to check you facts, Kestrel, and quit listening to Toyo’s rumors.”

  “You’re going to tell me the OSI Director came all the way out here just to take Melissa into custody? Any rookie field agent could have done that. So please, quick jerking my chain and give me the whole story. I can’t work with half of the facts.”

  Richard pursed his lips as he moved away from the view port. “You want to be in the loop? Fine.” He looked down to the metal file folder he’d placed on the table top and slid it closer to Shawn. “I’ve been told that it’s all in there.”

  Shawn looked down to the inconspicuous metal container. It was about the size of a small stack of paper, two inches thick with hinges along one side and a thumbprint scanner on the right. It was nothing more than a standard secured folder; save for a thick orange stripe around its midsection indicating that its contents were classified as top secret—even going so far as to have the words stenciled across it’s surface.

  Shawn regarded the folder without touching it. “What is this?”

  “An explanation, Kestrel, or so I’ve been told. At least, it’s as much of one as I’m authorized to give you at this point in time. It’s been specially encoded to your fingerprint. Even I can’t open it.”

  Shawn looked at him doubtfully. “So, you don’t know what’s in there?”

  Krif shook his head. “I have to say, though, that I’m pretty curious. I’d sure like to know why I’m out here in the nether regions of the Outer Rim staring at your ugly face when I have better things to do.”

  “So that’s a no, I take it?”

  Krif expression was noncommittal. “I’m an instrument of policy, Kestrel. Therefore, I know what I’m told to know.”

  “Why can’t people just say what’s on their minds? Why the big cloak-and-dagger bit? We’re all on the same side out here.”

  “In case you’ve had your head in the ground for the last few years, let me remind you: No, we’re not ‘all friends’, and that’s one of the reasons why I’m out here in the first place. This isn’t a cr
uise liner, if you hadn’t noticed, and the men and women on board the Rhea aren’t tourists trying to get to the Elixir Springs on Goshan. I’ve got enough firepower onboard this ship to devastate a planet three times over, and I’m charged with using it to make sure everyone plays nice out here in the boonies.” He moved to a food dispenser bin in the far wall and withdrew a steaming cup of liquid. Taking a tentative sip, he put the mug down with a look of disgust.

  “Coffee?” Shawn asked inquisitively.

  “Tea,” Krif looked at the liquid scornfully. “I’ve been told it’s better for my indigestion. Anyway, what makes you think I owe you an explanation for anything? You think I’ll breach protocol, not to mention direct orders from Admiral Blackwell, just because you and I served together back in the war? That crap doesn’t fly with me, Kestrel. Never has. Never will. I follow orders, plain and simple. I do what I’m told, when I’m told to do it. That’s how I got to where I am right now, and I plan on staying here awhile. At least, until they decide to pin a nice shiny star on my lapel and put me behind a desk, that is.”

  “I know I’ll sleep a lot more soundly when that happens.”

  “Is that all you’ve got left, Kestrel? Your quick jibes and your witty retorts? Tell me, is that why you turned into a space hauler instead of making a real career for yourself in the service? You had something, you know? I’m not saying it was exceptional, I’m not even saying it was great. But you definitely had something that most pilots these days lack: raw talent, maybe even a gift. But like a piece of garbage you threw it all away, and now you’re perfectly content hiding out in your own little corner of the galaxy, peddling freight to the has-beens and would-be pirate princes of the universe.”

  Shawn had no idea why he felt the need to justify himself to Richard Krif, so it shocked him to hear the words shoot angrily out of his mouth. “I had enough death to fill three lifetimes, Krif. I was done.”

  “You were done? You were done? Is that all it was to you? A vendetta?”

  Shawn didn’t answer, but Krif could see the anger welling up behind his eyes.

  “So, you quenched your proverbial thirst and stepped back from the fountain? You killed enough Kafaran’s to justify what they did to you and then you called it quits?” Richard shook his head disapprovingly. “That’s really sad, man.”

  “The war was over,” Shawn said with finality.

  Krif balled his fist and held it an inch from Shawn’s face. “But the fighting went on! Just because the Kafaran’s headed out of our space, it didn’t mean we all packed up and went home. There were still renegade systems to retake, and pirates in every corner and crack of the Outer Sphere. Borders had to be redrawn, and new treaties had to be negotiated—then there were the battles over those same treaties; not to mention the fact that commercial trade was smashed. Then, to top it all off, the core of the Unified Collaboration splintered. The Outer Sphere dissolved completely, not to mention what happened to our colonies way out on he frontier. Do you have any idea the kind of chaos that Sector Command was in?”

  Shawn let the words that had haunted his dreams slip passed his lips before he could capture them. “It wasn’t my concern.”

  Instead of pushing his clenched fist into Shawn’s face, Richard smashed it down into the briefing room table top, sending the metal file folder scurrying across its surface. “It was everyone’s concern, and you were one of the few people that was in a position to do something about it!”

  “I did my duty and moved on.”

  Krif shook his head slowly, his words dripping with disappointment. “That’s not how William saw it, and that’s not how Sylvia would have seen it.”

  The unspoken word oozed out of every pour in Krif’s body: he’d just called Shawn a coward. Shawn pulled back and brought his fist up to Krif’s face.

  Having anticipated Shawn’s outburst, Krif was already one step ahead. Before the fist had an opportunity to make contact, lightning fast reflexes allowed Krif to catch it mid-flight inches from his own nose.

  Shawn made no attempt to pull another punch, nor did he decrease the force behind his initial blow. He continued to push against Krif’s hand, silently praying that the Rhea’s captain would lose his grip and cause his fist to crash into the pompous, upturned nose.

  After a tense moment, when Krif felt Shawn’s force begin to wane, Richard pushed the hand aside and stepped two paces back from the enraged merchant. Krif exhaled slowly, watching as Shawn neither advanced nor retreated on his position as the two men regained their composure. With a final exhale, Richard shook his head and turned back to the open view port.

  “Wasn’t your concern, you say? Wasn’t your concern.” Krif repeated it several more times, each one softer and slower than the previous. He leaned against the heavy frame of the window and looked to Minos, now several thousand miles astern of the Rhea. “Well, congratulations. It’s your concern now.”

  “I don’t want it,” Shawn replied, still fuming from Krif’s earlier remark.

  “I’m sorry to say, you have very little choice in the matter, hot-shot. Believe me, I’m really sorry.”

  “Then I refuse.”

  Krif offered a light shrug without turning to face Shawn. “You can do that, and I won’t stop you. But, I don’t think it’d be a wise life decision. Then again, you’ve made those before.”

  “Are you threatening me, Dick?”

  “Threaten? No. I can’t do that. What would Sector Command say about one of their Captains threatening a civilian?” He frowned, then turned and locked eyes with Shawn. “And, that is what you are, you know? A civilian.” He spat the word as if the taste were disgusting. “While I don’t have sway over you now, just think of what the Unified Trade Guild could do to you and your… business.”

  Shawn shook his head in revulsion. “You’d have them pull my license?”

  “No. Not me, personally,” Krif said, then raised his eyebrows. “Regardless of what you may think of me, I could really care less if you’re out here plying the space lanes hauling crates of plastic trinkets for the rest of your life. Come to think of it, it gives me a sense of satisfaction. However, there are other parties who could make it their personal mission in life to see that you’re as absolutely miserable as possible, and I’d think pulling your license would be the least they could do.”

  “They’d take my ship, too?”

  Krif’s turned his attention back to the slowly retreating planet beyond the window. “Who’s to say? By the time your ship is repaired, we’ll be well beyond the Outer Rim, not to mention outside of the protection of Sector Command. Why, you could just… disappear.” And with that, Krif quickly snapped his fingers. “And none would need to be the wiser.”

  He was being threatened, and Shawn didn’t need to read between the lines to see it. Nonetheless, it didn’t matter. He’d been in sticky situations before, and had just as easily gotten out of them. This one would be no different. On the other hand, there was certainly something going on here, something that Admiral Graves gave his life for and something his daughter was willing to sacrifice her future for. And Richard Krif, while he may not have all the answers, certainly knew more than he was admitting to.

  No, this was not his fight. William and Melissa had—whether deliberately or not—chosen their own fate. Shawn still had a way out of this mess, and all he had to do was take it. He thought back to Toyo, someone with his own choices and agenda. Toyotomi had decided to take up arms and fight against an enemy he knew might someday come knocking at his door. Shawn suddenly began to feel like he was on the outside of an exclusive club, an observer to events that were being shaped beyond his control. Needless to say, it was not his favorite position. Knowing it was best to hear both sides of the argument before rushing to judgment, he decided to throw Krif a bone.

  “And what’s in it for me if I agree?”

  Krif walked back to the metal file folder on the table, tapping his index finger near the black thumbprint reader. This was where his person
al feelings ended, and his orders from Sector Command took over. “Full reinstatement back into the fleet, with no loss of rank or privileges. You’ll pick up where you quit. I mean, where you dropped out.” Krif sneered at his own words. “Sorry, I’m having a hard time finding the right phrase.”

  “I get your point,” Shawn snapped back.

  “This is top secret information, Kestrel. Once you touch this scanner, it’s all done, because once you’re in this loop you don’t get out. If you decide to leave because you don’t like what you find in there, you’ll be considered a deserter, and subject to the full punishment as such.”

  Shawn’s eyes were on the file container. He could see his reflection in the smooth surface of the scanner. “Meaning death.”

  “The current accepted version is instant organic incineration,” Krif agreed. “But I’ve heard they take their liberties with the term ‘instant’ when it comes to deserters and traitors.”

  Shawn grunted. He’d heard the same rumors. “What else are you offering?”

  “My word. When did you turn so opportunistic?”

  Shawn glared at him. “The moment my livelihood was challenged.”

  Krif nodded in approval. “Glad to see you can still adjust to a quickly changing environment.”

  “So, what else? And what happens to Trent and Melissa? And what about my ship?”

  “As for the details about your re-commission and your assignment, it’s all in the file. Considering your mechanic was once a specialist with Sector Command, he gets the same deal you do. He’s been a part of what’s been going on down on Persephone and Minos, so he’s just as much of a security risk as you are. Besides, he’s the only one who knows how to fix that hunk of junk you parked on my hangar deck. I’d like nothing more than to push that menace to navigation out of the nearest airlock and use it for target practice, but my orders on this matter are quite clear: you’re ship goes where you go, on board or not. As far as your girlfriend is concerned, that’s not up to me to say. She’s in enough trouble with the OSI as it is. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if they shit-canned her and shipped her out to a penal asteroid within the hour.”

 

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