by Gun Brooke
Relief turned to concern. She was inside an Onotharian shuttle, and if anybody hated the Onotharians, the medics and search-and-rescue personnel, who had to clean up the mess after the battle, were at the top of the list. No SC soldier was ever expected to shoot first and ask questions later, but it did happen when tempers ran high, and she was sure—having once, as a junior lieutenant, been part of such a team—every crewmember on the approaching ships was ready to throttle, shoot, and laser-blade the first Onotharian they came across.
Jacelon had to figure out a way to confirm her identity before they turned the shuttle into space dust. Every SC citizen possessed an ID code, worn in a chip under their skin. So did Jacelon, but hers was outfitted with a military prefix, which, when scanned, allowed SC authorities to identify her and the enemy to come up blank.
She formed a bold idea. If it worked, she would think it was worth the pain. If it didn’t—at least she’d tried. The young men behind her were worth any pain she would experience. Pain was only a vague description. Agony would be a better word for what she meant to do. Excruciating agony.
Jacelon pulled out a small laser-bladed knife and rolled up the sleeve of her uniform jacket. Aiming dead center between her wrist and elbow on the inside of her arm, she bit hard into her lip as she pressed the sensor, engaging the cauterizing feature. She glanced up at the viewport and saw the lights coming closer with each passing heartbeat.
It was time. She couldn’t hold back a whimper as she began to cut.
*
Kellen stood on the bridge of the cruiser Noma III, unable to sit down because her nerves were wound so taut. Fueled by the hatred of a man who had wronged and wounded her loved ones, whom she hated with every fiber of her being, she kept her eyes on the viewscreen.
“Kellen?” A soft voice next to her made her flinch and she whipped her head sideways, glaring at the person daring to disturb her thoughts. “Hey, it’s just me.” Roshan O’Landha raised her hands, palms forward. “Stand down, Protector.”
“I apologize. I was lost in thought.”
“I could tell, and I’m sorry I startled you. You have a lot on your mind, yet you need to brief us as we’re approaching our coordinates.”
“I will, I—”
“We have an incoming SC official subspace message, Commander O’Dal.” Owena, manning tactical and ops, said.
“Audio.” Kellen waited impatiently until Owena nodded for her to go ahead. “This is Commander Kellen O’Dal, on the cruiser Noma.”
“Commander, Admiral Ewan Jacelon. I have new information for you and your team. I was just briefed by our agent aboard the Salaceos that they are expecting Trax M’Aldovar as Podmer’s guest within the next two hours. This band of space pirates has a cargo of davic crystals for him. Our agent estimated in an earlier report that they stole approximately seven thousand two hundred crystals.”
“That won’t happen.” Kellen knew she sounded harsh. “If the Onotharians get their hands on them—”
“I know, Kellen.” Ewan sounded stern. “I trust you to deal with the situation. Take him out. Stop the deal from taking place. If necessary, eliminate the Salaceos.”
“We have operatives on that ship, sir.”
“One is the mercenary that kidnapped Dahlia, the other one is a BNSL android.” The dismissive tone in Ewan’s voice made certain that he thought of them as expendable.
“That may be,” Kellen insisted, although she harbored as much disdain for Weiss Kyakh as Ewan and Rae did. “We must still take appropriate measures to ensure their rescue if possible. It is what Rae would do.” She held her breath while waiting for her father-in-law to explode.
“Of course, you’re right.” Ewan sounded pressured, but calmer.
“The BNSL android is sentient. Kyakh may be there because of coercion, but she does work for the SC at present.”
“Yes, yes.” Ewan cleared his throat. “We don’t have any news of Rae yet. I know this is as torturous for you as it is for her mother and me, perhaps even more since you are in the field and need to stay focused. You don’t have the luxury of dwelling on it.”
“That is actually a blessing. I…” Kellen gazed around her and saw nothing but sympathy from the people who were her comrades in arms and her friends. “I am all right. I will complete the mission. You have to promise me to page me as soon as you know. No matter what.”
“Very well, Kellen. I have transmitted the Salaceos’s coordinates. The asteroid belt near them is emitting some interesting signals, so be on your guard, Kellen.”
“Affirmative, Admiral.”
“Be safe. Jacelon out.”
“Commander D’Artansis.” Kellen took a second to collect herself. “Change our course to the coordinates transmitted from SC headquarters.”
“Aye, ma’am.” Leanne punched in the command, and the Noma rumbled beneath Kellen’s feet. She was one of the new powerful models, outfitted with the latest modified propulsion system, capable of traveling three times as fast as a tachyon mass drive, which was illegal due to pollution issues. This cruiser also had a cloaking system, which made them invisible to sensors and the naked eye. Now the Noma pierced space like a projectile, black and sleek, with twenty assault craft in her belly.
Kellen sat down in the captain’s chair, gripping the armrests. She would make sure Trax M’Aldovar never saw the light of day and Onotharat wouldn’t obtain the crystals. Once that was done, she intended to find Rae.
Nothing and nobody could stop her.
Chapter Twenty-three
Weiss stood rigid next to Podmer, about to greet the Onotharian general as his hover chair exited the airlock. His shuttle had docked with the Salaceos only moments ago, and Weiss wondered why he found it necessary to meet again so soon. He had coerced Podmer into going along with his terms, and the crystals were ready for transfer. He obviously wanted something else enough to risk another meeting with Podmer, whom he clearly despised.
Trax M’Aldovar managed to look intimidating and powerful despite the fact he could move only his head. He hovered high enough off the deck to not have to gaze up at anyone. Weiss knew the psychological impact of such tactics and that this man left nothing to chance. His amber gaze, almost a sulfur yellow, rested on each one of the greeting party before he spoke in the raspy voice Weiss remembered.
“No need for all this commotion. I want this done quickly. Podmer, where can I examine the item?”
“I have yet to concede to—”
“Podmer, if you expect to get paid for the crystals, you will follow my directions. I’ve got a war to win, and I can’t be bothered with squabbling with pirates.”
“You still find us useful to supply you with merchandise,” Weiss heard herself say, unable to prevent her words. This pompous man personified everything she disliked in another humanoid. She had come across many like him in her life, and she had to date put every single one in their place.
“Kyakh, I would find your insolence amusing if I wasn’t pressed for time and in no spirit to banter. Not even with a beautiful diate’sh like you.”
Weiss recognized an Onotharian insult when she heard one. She forced herself to remain calm and disdainful. “I have never made my living by selling my body to anyone, M’Aldovar, but I can imagine why someone like you would be limited to knowing only such unfortunate women.”
A vein began to throb visibly at M’Aldovar’s left temple. “Hold your tongue, Kyakh, or I might just give the order to have it removed.”
“Why don’t we head over to the mess hall?” Podmer interrupted, clearly eager to forestall any more insults or threats from either of them.
“Will you present the piece of technology there?”
“Absolutely. For the right price, anything is negotiable.” Podmer smiled jovially. “I’m sure we’ll see eye to eye.”
“Oh, yes, I’m certain we will.” M’Aldovar’s irony was obviously lost on Podmer, who strode through the corridor. Weiss wanted to grab him by the arm and demand an ex
planation, and also point out the fact that the Onotharian general was a lying, murderous bastard, which of course would have been a moot point, as Podmer was exactly that too.
The mess hall had been rearranged to impress a dignitary. Smaller tables had been folded into the deck; only the large captain’s table in the center remained, set with gilded obsidian plates and glasses. Weiss raised her eyebrows when she saw the bright white retrospun linen tablecloth. How domestic, Podmer.
“Take a seat—” Podmer stopped himself, but too late. “My apologies.” He turned furious eyes on the mess hall boy waiting next to the door leading to the galley. “Remove a chair immediately. No, not that one, you fool. The one over by the viewport, for our guest.” Podmer, now with a volatile red creeping up his large cheeks, tossed the thin young man aside and dragged the chair out of M’Aldovar’s way himself. “Get back into the kitchen and then bring us drinks.”
Weiss had to cough to mask her laughter when she could actually see on Podmer’s face how it dawned on him that he had no clue how M’Aldovar was supposed to handle drinking. Podmer’s eyes fluttered back and forth between M’Aldovar and his security detail. Weiss would have given most of her stashed loot to see one of those hard-nosed, rough men try to feed their general.
“Do not panic, Podmer,” M’Aldovar said with a sigh. “My hover chair takes care of everything. By all means, bring us drinks. Make mine a double, no matter what it is.” He looked like he needed it, from sheer exasperation.
“Oh, good. I mean, yes. Of course.” Podmer reissued the order to the mess hall boy, who scurried off, probably grateful to be out of reach of his captain.
“So,” M’Aldovar said, and maneuvered his chair into the vacated space, “is the BNSL going to join us?”
Weiss snapped her head up, staring at first M’Aldovar, then Podmer. The fact that the Onotharian general spoke of Madisyn in that manner set her inner alarm klaxons blaring. Why would he call a member of Podmer’s crew “the BNSL,” and why would he be interested in whether Madisyn joined them?
“I thought we’d negotiate first,” Podmer said merrily, pouring the drinks as the boy returned from the galley. He formed his lips into a broad smile, but his eyes were guarded as they skimmed by Weiss.
“What, exactly, are we negotiating about?” Weiss asked, making sure she sounded bored and not overly interested.
“That which turned out to be your main attraction.” M’Aldovar laughed, a chilling, hissing sound. “I understand this android is one of a kind.”
“And you know this how?” Weiss pressed on.
“Kyakh!” Podmer slammed his hand, palm down, into the table, making the obsidian glasses jump.
“Now, now, it’s no secret that your other crewmember, Lucco Struyen has been most informative. Very helpful.” M’Aldovar laughed again. “Pour my drink, Ensign. This calls for a toast.”
One of his security detail officers stepped up and lifted the glass in front of M’Aldovar. He pressed a sensor on the hover chair and an opening on the top of the backrest emerged. Reluctantly fascinated, Weiss watched as the ensign simply poured the drink into the opening and closed the lid. Another opening to M’Aldovar’s left produced a narrow transparent tube, which wiggled through the air close to his lips. Bending his neck slightly, M’Aldovar let his gaze travel between them. “Here’s to Onotharian supremacy.” He didn’t wait for them to respond, but drank from the tube. His broad, stiff grin was one of the ugliest expressions Weiss had seen. Even she, who took pride in never being jaded, could feel the stirring of nausea at the apparent madness in his eyes.
“Supremacy,” Podmer finally echoed, and drank. Weiss couldn’t make herself sip the strong valasai wine. Normally, she had no problem handling alcohol, but if she took a sip now, she would end up spitting it across the table.
“So, back to business. The cute little BNSL. Unlike our previous negotiation, you can pretty much name your price. She’s unique.”
Only the fact Weiss was holding on to the seat of her chair made it possible for her to remain sitting.
“You want to buy Madisyn Pimm?” Podmer blinked. “She’s a sentient being and member of my crew. A valued member.”
“She is a robot. State of the art and one of a kind, as I understand it, but still—just another piece of technology.” M’Aldovar pursed his full lips, which created an extraordinarily lascivious expression.
“You heard Podmer. Pimm is sentient. She is part of his senior staff.” Kyakh was so furious, and at the same time so deeply afraid that she was halfway out of her chair.
“A sensitive topic, Kyakh? Have a special liking for androids and robots?” M’Aldovar’s hissing laughter made him turn dark red. He shook his head at the ensign who took a step toward him.
“I have no interest in Pimm, but any good crew has to remain loyal to each other, or its operations are doomed.” Weiss turned her attention to Podmer. “Like you should point out to that loose-lipped Struyen. He’s been nothing but trouble. If you don’t—”
“You don’t lecture me.” It was Podmer’s turn to change color. “I decide what goes on aboard the Salaceos.”
“That’s right, Podmer. You tell her.” M’Aldovar seemed genuinely amused. “Tell her who’s in charge.”
“And you will sit idly by and sell a member of your crew into slavery.”
“What do you care?” Podmer drank the rest of his valasai wine. “Can you tell me that?”
“I’m just looking out for myself. If you can do that to Pimm, who’s been with you much longer, how do I know you won’t do something similar to me?” Her heart beating so fast that it actually hurt her ribs, Weiss thought fast. “What if you decide to hand me back to the SC if they give you enough reimbursement? Both Pimm and I risked our damn necks for you, and though I know you’re nothing but a murdering thief, when I had my own ship, I would never have sacrificed one of my own.” She spat the last words with all the contempt she could muster.
“This isn’t your ship, is it?” Podmer wasn’t red anymore. He was pale. “I know your reputation, so that is why you’re still sitting there and not bleeding all over sickbay. You should be able to fathom that there is a difference between you and Pimm. You’re royalty when it comes to our business. Pimm is really not much more than what the general says—an android, though advanced.”
“So you’re saying you’re going to side with me against Struyen?” Weiss scowled.
“Struyen has overstepped his authority. I realize that.” His voice calmer now, Podmer pushed against the table with both hands and stood. “He will be reprimanded.”
“Will he pay restitution?” It was important that Podmer and M’Aldovar only saw her concern as personal greed, or they might start wondering just why she cared about Madisyn.
“He will forfeit half his part to you. You will outrank him.”
“Fine. As long as you’re not going against your word,” Weiss said, her voice low, with a warning growl.
“No, no. Why would I do that? I’m here,” Podmer gestured at the table, “ready to make a profitable deal. Since you’re here, you must realize I trust you, and I need you to help me. I don’t want Pimm to find a way to self-destruct if she catches wind of this.”
Oh, stars and skies, he was planning to do it. He was going to sell Madisyn to this megalomaniac. Weiss sat down again, assuming a mildly interested expression. “I can perhaps be of help. For a price.”
“Of course,” M’Aldovar hissed. “For a price.”
Podmer laughed and had the boy pour more valasai wine. “Now we’re on the right track. We just have to plan this carefully so Pimm doesn’t become suspicious.”
“Leave that to me,” Weiss said, nothing but dread and cold winter in her heart. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”
Chapter Twenty-four
Madisyn shifted restlessly in the captain’s chair. She kept an eye on all sensor readings, fully aware of the newly appointed ensign’s limitations as the young woman nervously punched in command
s for diagnostics over at the ops station. Struyen was confined to quarters, pending Podmer’s ruling of his fate. This ought to be reassuring, but Madisyn couldn’t shake the feeling that she was missing something. Struyen and his cohorts were dealt with, so far, but M’Aldovar’s presence aboard the Salaceos had made the ship hum in a way that seemed foreboding.
She flinched as her internal sensors received a muted signal, manifesting itself as a tone only audible to her through her inner ear. Knowing this meant the SC was trying to reach her, Madisyn locked her gaze on the viewscreen on the far wall and accessed her biosynthetic transmission array. She rarely used this feature, since the transparent images projected on her retina gave her motion sickness. But this was clearly an emergency, and she couldn’t shake her feeling of impending disaster.
Cursing the fact that she couldn’t leave the bridge, Madisyn let the information from the SC scroll past her eyes. To her surprise, it wasn’t the dense intel she had expected, but a mere text message in real time.
From the SC cruiser Noma:
Commander Kellen O’Dal – Protector of the Realm
En route to your last known coordinates. Objective is to apprehend/eliminate individual known as Trax M’Aldovar. Do not permit said individual to escape. Use deadly force if no other option.
Update required regarding current coordinates, crew manifest, weapons array, shields configuration.
Madisyn made her exterior remain indifferent. The protector and her unit were closing in. They were going to get here and seize M’Aldovar, Podmer, and the rest of these murdering bastards. As she thought of how satisfying that would feel, she slid her gaze over to the young ensign. This girl, skinny, with big dark eyes, was not exactly what came to mind when thinking of Podmer’s usual menagerie of thugs. She looked like she was trying to be part of this crew rather than actually be a member. Madisyn vowed to make sure this kid was not bundled up with the rest of the gang.