Sagitta: Star Guardians, Book 3

by Ruby Lionsdrake

“We’ll have to get closer for me to confirm it, but I believe those are mines.”

  “Mines?” Sage asked, feeling his irritation rising. What new obstacle was being thrown in the way of him doing the right thing? “Are you telling me, someone has booby-trapped the Scyllan gate?”

  “It may be that the Scyllans have decided to deny access to their system through a more blunt method than they’ve used in the past,” Korta said.

  “It’s hard to get blunter than sending warships to fire at anyone who enters theirs gates.” Sage wouldn’t be tempting fate by flying through the system if the latest intel hadn’t said that the fire falcon ships were faster than anything the insular aliens possessed. He rubbed the back of his head, feeling his headache spreading. The back of his neck felt strangely itchy, and he scratched at it. “It’s possible smugglers with fast ships might have been using their system as part of a short cut, much as we are, and it’s irritated them, but if the Scyllans were responsible, who placed the mines?”

  “Sir?” Korta asked at the same time as Lieutenant Coric looked across the bridge and said, “Good question, sir.”

  “Keep up, Korta,” Sage heard himself say. “You’re my genius science officer.”

  Coric threw him a startled look, and Sage winced.

  “Yes, sir,” Korta said, sounding more puzzled by the outburst than offended. “Ah, you refer to the fact that the Scyllans have never been witnessed leaving their system. It’s uncertain whether they are merely insular or whether their species is incapable of wormhole travel.”

  “Yes,” Sage said. “The military keeps an eye on them since they’re close neighbors, and latest intelligence affirms that they haven’t been seen outside their system. Ever.”

  “Maybe they popped out long enough to set those mines,” Zakota said. “When nobody was looking. Speaking of looking, I said stop looking at me, Ku, you ass.”

  Ku rose to his feet in a swift motion.

  “If you wish to challenge me, do so,” he snarled at Zakota. “Do not insult my honor with your accusations.”

  “Sit,” Sage roared and swatted at the damn itch on the back of his neck. “Both of you,” he added, since Zakota was halfway to his feet.

  Zakota sat back down, his shoulders tense as he gripped the edges of his console.

  Ku turned his glare on Sage, the cold intensity of it making Sage want to raise his fists and assume a fighting stance. To defend himself. Or maybe to deliver a punch. Who did Ku think he was to glare at his captain that way?

  He recognized the belligerent thought for what it was, took a deep breath, and did his best to curb further ones. He had to stay calm. Something that would be easier if that itch would go away.

  “Sit, Ku,” Sage said. “Or leave the bridge, so someone else can take over your station.” He looked toward Coric. Everyone had training on everyone else’s station up here, so she ought to be able to handle weapons. Shooting unmoving mines, if it came to that, wouldn’t be that difficult. And if Sage had to, he could take over Zakota’s station and pilot the ship.

  “I’m more than ready to fire at something,” Ku said, glaring at Zakota, though he did turn and sit down. “Especially since my honor has been besmirched.”

  “Your honor,” Zakota said. “You act like you come from some great mystic tribe of warriors, but we’re from the same planet, a bunch of hunter-gatherer nomads living at the subsistence level.”

  “On my continent, honor is everything,” Ku said fiercely.

  “Would you two shut up and focus on those mines?” Sage said, then unclenched his fists and silently cursed himself. “My apologies. To both of you for my ill temper. And to Korta, as well.”

  “The effects of the nebula, Captain,” Korta said. “It is as we anticipated. I have sent pertinent data from my samples to Dr. Tala. She sent an enthusiastic note of gratitude. She likes my data.” He sounded surprised. And pleased.

  Sage made a note to show more appreciation for Korta’s data in the future. When his head wasn’t aching so much.

  “I’m glad,” he said, “but the mines, Korta. Find out as much about them as you can as we get closer. If we’re forced to blow some of them up to get by, is there a way the Scyllans will know about it in their home system? And Zakota, get us to that gate quickly, so we can get out of this nebula, but slow down before you get too close. It’s possible there are also mines that are camouflaged and that we can’t see yet.”

  Several alien races had that technology, humans included. Sage wouldn’t be surprised if the Scyllans did too. They might be insular and not have the fastest ships, since they had no interest in going anywhere, but that didn’t mean they weren’t advanced in other areas. Several human diplomatic ships had been destroyed before the Confederation got the message that the aliens truly wanted nothing to do with them—and would slay anyone who entered their system. That past and the lack of a treaty of any kind were the reasons that Sage didn’t feel bad about slipping through their system for his needs.

  “If that were possible, wouldn’t they have camouflaged all of them, sir?” Coric asked.

  “Perhaps, but cloaking technology is imperfect, especially on small simple devices with energy signatures. They may have known the mines might be detected by an astute helmsman.” Sage fought down the urge to point out that Zakota was anything but astute at the moment, recognizing the sarcastic thought as the irritation being instilled in him from without. “Placing some out in the open could serve two purposes. First, as a deterrent. It’s clearly a threat, a promise of death for those who trespass. Second, it may make people less likely to notice the hidden ones. We see the clear threats and, in being careful to avoid them, miss seeing the subtle ones.”

  He remembered playing grammar games in school where he’d been tasked with finding errors in sentences. Often times, students had spotted an error and moved on, not noticing that there were multiple ones in each sentence that the teacher hadn’t warned them about. It was amazingly easy for the brain to stop working once it believed a task was sufficiently complete.

  And it was amazing that he could think of anything right now except that itch. It felt like Drokvian ants crawling all over his skin, leaving their irritating little stingers behind.

  “I am doing my best to look for more, Captain,” Korta said. “We do need to get closer first.”

  “How far to the gate, Zakota?” Sage asked.

  “Three hours.”

  Sage grimaced, though he’d estimated the same. “Best possible speed.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Korta, is there anyone else in the system?”

  “No, sir. I checked as soon as we entered. Unless they’re cloaked, there are no other ships in the system.”

  “Good.”

  As Sage watched Ku and Zakota exchange glares again, he wondered if he should consider sedating the bridge crew and having Korta and Eridanus handle the flight. But the mines would need to be dealt with, and they might signify the presence of further threats. He needed to be awake, and he would certainly prefer his best helmsman and weapons officer be awake.

  He just hoped the three hours wouldn’t cause anyone’s symptoms to escalate to unmanageable levels. And he wondered if there was any chance Tala would find an antidote, or whatever was needed to clear his head, when military doctors before her with understanding of more sophisticated medical technology had not.

  7

  The data Commander Korta had sent down was interesting, if largely over her head—what the hell did the transfer of spectral line radiation have to do with space madness?—and she appreciated that he’d thought of her, or that Sage had. However, what she really needed was to look at the brains of some of the affected people.

  Assuming she, Juanita, and Angela were already being affected, she moved around the giant svenkar standing in front of the sickbay door to rummage in drawers for the device she’d learned could do more thorough scans than anything she’d seen from a CT or MRI.

  “Need help with an
ything, Tala?” Juanita asked.

  Tala thought about pointing out that the drool puddle on the deck could use wiping up, but she didn’t want to sound ungrateful for her guard svenkar.

  “I’m going to need your brain in a moment,” Tala said.

  “To pluck useful information out in regard to that Star Trek episode?” Juanita grinned at Angela, as if this were some fun escapade rather than a very serious trip that could get them all killed.

  “To scan it for science.”

  “Er, I guess I’m okay with that.”

  A thump sounded in the corridor outside, and Tala jumped. It sounded like someone had been thrown against the door.

  “We locked that, right?” she asked.

  “Treyjon did on his way out,” Angela said. “But, uhm, if people get hurt, don’t we need to let them in so we can help them?”

  Lulu growled deep in her throat. As she faced the door, her tigress-like tail swished behind her. Not a very inviting receptionist for a walk-in clinic.

  “Eridanus?” Juanita asked. “Are you there?”

  “Naturally,” came the AI’s dry reply.

  “Is there a way for us to see what’s going on out in the corridor? And all over the ship?”

  Tala glanced at the logostec Sage had given her early on. She could comm him easily enough, but he was probably busy and wouldn’t appreciate an interruption. Angela and Juanita didn’t have such devices, nor had they been given to any of the other women, and Tala assumed there was a limited supply on the ship. She wasn’t sure if they could communicate with Treyjon or Orion through the intercom.

  “I have eyes all over the ship,” Eridanus said.

  “I’m now feeling a little uncomfortable about showering,” Angela whispered.

  “I assure you, a fire falcon 8800-XR artificial intelligence is not interested in peeping at human females when they are unclothed. Please step to a convenient view screen or holographic display, and I can show you several camera feeds at once. I will screen them to only share areas that are occupied by humans.”

  Another thump sounded in the corridor near the door.

  “Such as that hallway?” Juanita asked.

  “Correct.”

  “You can use the screen in the office,” Tala said, then uttered a triumphant “hah” when she found the scanner. Someone had moved it since she’d last used it and left it on a counter. Were the medical robots like busy nurses, cleaning and organizing behind her back?

  “I’ll stay here with Lulu,” Angela said. “If someone comes through the door and is being aggressive, I need to be here to make sure she doesn’t get overly aggressive in return.” Her face grew uncharacteristically bleak for some reason.

  “I’ll just scan Juanita’s brain,” Tala said, following her into the office. “And my own. Damn, I should have thought to do this before we went through that gate. What point is looking now, without a baseline for comparison? Eridanus, do you have brain scans of the crew?”

  “Yes, Doctor.”

  “Can you pull them up on—” Tala considered the view screen on the wall, which had shifted from displaying the nebula outside to four camera feeds from within the ship. “My wrist computer?”

  “Sending the data to your logostec now,” Eridanus said.

  “Good.”

  “You’re welcome,” Eridanus said dryly.

  “Thank you,” Tala added belatedly. Here she’d pestered Sage about not using please and thank you with her, and the ship’s AI was taking her to task for doing the same. Who would have thought computers wanted courtesy?

  “He’s not quite like Siri, is he?” Juanita smirked, but didn’t look away from the view screen.

  Tala sifted through the files, looking first for Treyjon—she assumed the ship’s tracker and svenkar trainer wouldn’t be overly busy while they flew through the nebula. Meanwhile, Juanita watched the four camera feeds. One was of the rec room, where the women sat or paced, occasionally looking toward the door. Was someone making noises in their corridor too? A stoic woman in a Star Guardian uniform stood guard by the door with a stunner held loosely in her hand.

  Another feed—the one of the corridor outside of sickbay—showed Treyjon helping another man to his feet. Was that the end of the skirmish they’d heard?

  The man—Ensign Jarok, who’d made a pass at Angela not that long ago—took a swing at Treyjon. The video didn’t include sound, but Treyjon’s lips reared back in a snarl, and he said something as he blocked the punch and drove one of his own into Jarok’s stomach. The man rolled away and jumped up again, reaching for a knife on his belt. Treyjon was faster and yanked out a stunner. He said something and fired.

  The ensign dropped to the deck. Treyjon propped him against the wall with another man Tala hadn’t noticed. Treyjon may have been told that the women were to be isolated during this jaunt through the nebula, but he clearly intended to stand guard.

  That was probably a good thing, and not only because it would be easy to find him for a brain scan. Tala doubted Lulu knew how to stun people, and she didn’t want to have to do surgery on crewmen torn open by svenkar claws.

  “Let’s do a comparison on Treyjon,” Tala said, examining a brain scan that had been done on him from a routine physical six months earlier. “Will you go invite him in?”

  “You’ve got legs, don’t you?” Juanita snapped, startling Tala. “Eridanus, where’s Orion? Why aren’t you showing me Orion?”

  He wasn’t in either of the two other video feeds on display, one of engineering and one of a room full of computers that Tala hadn’t seen before. There looked to be arguments going on with the Star Guardians in those rooms, but none of the exchanges had descended to blows yet.

  “You did not request to see him,” Eridanus said blandly.

  “Is he in trouble? I want to see him now.”

  Tala eyed Juanita. That cranky, demanding tone was definitely uncharacteristic of her. Sage had said the women were affected less but not that they were immune.

  As if to prove the point, a fight broke out among the women in the rec room. Katie shoved Bethany, a tall aggressive woman who had no trouble taking what she wanted. Someone else came up from behind Katie and shoved her. That was Jas, one of the NAU girls, a tall, broad-shouldered woman who’d said she was on the basketball team.

  “Interesting,” Tala said. “And unsurprising, I suppose. Though it’s hard to imagine some celestial space dust or radiation affecting hormones.”

  “Eridanus,” Juanita said. “Orion?”

  “Yes, I have located him. He is entering engineering.”

  Juanita leaned forward, watching the feed intently.

  “I’m going to get Treyjon,” Tala said. “With the legs I do indeed have.”

  Juanita didn’t say anything as she walked out.

  “Everything all right?” Angela asked, pointing at the door—Lulu still faced it. “I heard some more noises from out there.”

  “It’s Treyjon. We’re going to invite him in, but…” Thinking of Treyjon’s big, muscular arms, Tala veered toward the injectors full of sedative she had laid out. A stun gun might be easier to wield, but nobody had thought to give the women one. Maybe because they were supposed to stay safe behind locked doors rather than venturing out to collect specimens. “He’ll likely be snippy too.”

  “Snippy?” Angela asked.

  She appeared the same as usual, her eyes curious and friendly rather than belligerent.

  Tala had a hard time assessing how she felt. Maybe a little on edge?

  “Orion, don’t be an idiot,” came Juanita’s voice from the office. “What are you doing?”

  “Snippy,” Tala repeated. “No data to back it up yet, but it may be that those with more testosterone are being affected to a greater extent. The men, of course, but some of our burlier women too.”

  Angela looked at her slender arms and made a face. Burly wasn’t the precise word Tala wanted—Katie was a tough cookie, but not a power lifter, by any means—but she
didn’t want to take the time to explain the various pathways affected by higher testosterone levels in women.

  “I need to scan Treyjon’s brain.” Tala nodded to the door. “Juanita, is it clear out there?” she called.

  “Orion’s in a fight,” came the reply. “I’m going to punch him if he gets hurt.”

  Tala sighed and tapped the panel that unlocked the door. As it slid open, someone tumbled through, nearly squashing her.

  She stumbled back, aware of a snarl behind her from the svenkar.

  “No, girl,” Angela ordered, stepping in front of Lulu even as Treyjon and another man crashed into sickbay in the middle of a fight.

  The men hit the deck, a tangle of limbs as they writhed and kicked and punched. Tala glimpsed green hair. Was that Ensign Bystrom? Their former guard?

  Blood spattered the deck. Lulu tensed, looking like she meant to spring into the fight and end it with those long fangs of hers.

  After finding her balance, Tala darted in and pressed the injector to Treyjon’s tattooed arm. He was too busy rearing back to punch the ensign to notice. She thumbed in another dose and leaned down to jab Bystrom in the shoulder.

  He roared, flinging an elbow backward. It caught her in the thigh with the force of a sledgehammer, and she stumbled back, bumping into an exam table and falling to the deck.

  “Doctor,” Bystrom blurted, seeming to see her for the first time. There was a cut in the side of his uniform, and blood soaked the material around it.

  Not sure how quickly the sedative would kick in, or what he had in mind, Tala hurried to her feet.

  Bystrom did the same, shedding Treyjon, who was starting to look groggy.

  “Doc, I got stabbed,” Bystrom said, gripping his side and staggering toward her. “Can you—”

  His eyes rolled back into his head, and he collapsed before finishing the question.

  “Hell,” Tala said, looking at all the blood on the deck.

  Lulu growled, muscles bunching to spring toward the still-open door.

  “Hold,” Angela commanded.

  The svenkar obeyed, but she didn’t relax.

  Gasps and grunts came from the corridor, and another man appeared in the doorway, gripping the jamb with a bloody hand. Orion, his tangled brown hair torn down from his bun and draped around his shoulders. A knife hilt stuck out of his thigh. God, how had he walked here?