by Zen DiPietro
He had work to do. It was time to get to it.
“HOW WOULD you like to have a front-row seat to a war like no one has ever seen?” Cabot asked.
For most people, this would not be an appealing offer. Nagali’s lust for trouble, though, gave him little doubt about her decision.
“Count me in,” she declared, her eyes sparkling. She was looking particularly lovely in a ruby-red dress that was an unexpected mix of revealing at the top and voluminous at the back and sides.
“Just like that?” he asked. He hadn’t expected this to be difficult, but her reaction seemed a little too easy. “No asking what’s in it for you?”
“Adventure and opportunity,” she said. “What else do I need? Plus, it’s where you’ll be, right?”
He wasn’t sure how to take that and didn’t want to inquire further. “Yes.”
“It’s settled, then. I’m in. When do we leave?”
“First I have to talk to Omar. Then I need to talk to Fallon.”
She made a shooing gesture. “Why are you asking me if you don’t even have the details yet? Go! Get it figured out. I’ll start packing.”
He’d always wondered how she fit so many elaborate outfits into her luggage. He’d seen her unpack before, and her ability to fit so much fashion into just a few suitcases and bags defied the laws of physics.
Cabot had recruited Nagali first, expecting her to be easier. Although Omar was always up for a good fistfight, Cabot wasn’t sure he’d want to join a major war effort.
He’d hoped Omar’s attachment to Peregrine would sway him in the PAC’s favor.
Nagali shooed him again. “I’ll handle Omar. You go get the wheels turning.”
He felt a rush of fondness for Nagali. Now that he thought about it, she’d have made a good war general.
“You’re sure you can convince him?” Cabot asked. Fallon and Nevitt might have the wisdom to recognize when someone wasn’t cut out for a job, but Cabot wasn’t magnanimous enough to easily accept Omar bowing out. He needed Omar if he was going to make a go of this.
“Please,” Nagali scoffed. “Now get out before I kick you out.”
A smile tugged at his lips as he went to his shop where he’d make the necessary calls.
He liked the somewhat more predictable version of Nagali he’d seen recently, but she just wouldn’t be Nagali without ego, imperiousness, and occasional disdain.
NO RESPONSE.
He’d sent an emergency priority message to Fallon, but still hadn’t heard from her. Could she be out of range, causing communications to be delayed?
Unlikely, unless she was in an area that had a number of damaged relays. She hadn’t been gone long enough to outpace the relay system.
After packing his bags and making plans to be absent, Cabot had returned to his store and relieved a part-time employee whose primary job on the station was janitorial. He liked to earn some extra money here and there, so Cabot gave him work when he could. He felt a little bad about cutting short the young man’s time, but he wanted to have the shop to himself when he heard back from Fallon. The part-timer would have plenty of work once Cabot departed. Nico couldn’t run the shop all by himself.
But the hours ticked by and still he heard nothing. He grew increasingly concerned.
Maybe Fallon hadn’t been out of touch because he’d refused to work with Ditnya to fight the Barony Coalition. Maybe something had gone wrong.
By the time evening came, his concern had grown to all-out alarm. A message from Nevitt said that the captain had no specifics on Fallon’s current mission.
That left Cabot with only one option, and one he’d never dreamed of doing.
He opened a channel to Jamestown to contact an admiral in charge of the kind of intelligence officers that even most people working in intelligence didn’t know about.
The message was short, direct, and coded as an emergency. Cabot also sent it directly to the admiral himself.
Not something a trader should really be doing, but he was making things up as he went along from this point on.
CABOT HAD NEVER CLOSED his shop early without a significant reason. But he sat behind the counter, staring at his voicecom with a burn of dread kindling in his belly.
What if he’d waited too long to act? What if Fallon and Peregrine had been killed?
What if Ditnya had done something drastic that had changed everything?
As he sat, waiting, he wondered if the galaxy had already begun to form into something entirely new.
When an incoming message alert came, he activated it before the first audio notification could even finish.
Admiral Krazinski’s distinguished features filled the screen, and Cabot felt relief at finally making contact.
“What’s the emergency, Cabot?” Krazinski’s face gave away nothing.
“I can’t contact Fallon, and I needed to speak with her.”
“She’s on communications blackout right now.”
Was Krazinski alluding to the nature of Fallon’s mission by using the word blackout, or should Cabot take the words at face value?
“She asked me to serve as liaison to Ditnya Caine, to allow Caine to work with the PAC against the Barony Coalition. I initially said no. Now I’m saying yes. What do I need to do?”
Krazinski studied him for a long minute. “Your timing’s bad. We needed you a week ago. After we failed to come to an agreement, Ditnya Caine left Jamestown two days ago in a vessel she summoned to pick her up. I assume she’s on her way out of the PAC zone now.”
“How fast is her ship?” Cabot asked.
Krazinski’s eyes sharpened. “What are you planning to do?”
“Catch up to her and get her to commit to the first agreement that required my involvement.”
“Why now?”
Cabot met the admiral’s gaze. “I didn’t think I had what it took, and that others could do the job better. I’ve realized I was wrong, and I’m ready to get to work.”
The admiral’s eyes narrowed. Cabot knew that look. It was the expression of someone who was wavering on the edge of signing a contract, and just needed a tiny push in the right direction.
“I’ll work for free,” Cabot declared.
The speculative look faded. “You must be serious about this,” Krazinski observed. “You have a personal stake in all this, then?”
“I do. I’ll close the deal. You can count on me.”
“Fallon does. And I count on her. So, go catch Ditnya Caine and turn the tide of this war. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you what happens if you fail.”
Bad, bad, horrible things, no doubt.
“I won’t fail,” Cabot vowed.
Krazinski nodded. “Very well. We’ve had eyes on Caine since she left. She’s been traveling at a steady rate of speed on a well-armed but not terribly speedy ship. In the Outlaw, you could catch her.”
“I’ll see if I can find something as fast as that, but it won’t be easy.”
“Why not just take the Outlaw?” Krazinski asked.
“Fallon—” he caught himself. Krazinski was not a man who needed simple basics explained to him. “She didn’t take it?”
The admiral smiled faintly. “Avian unit took the Nefarious. They left the Outlaw for you. It’s been maintenanced and fueled, and it’s ready to go.”
“Did they expect me to change my mind?” How could they have when he hadn’t known he would?
“Let’s say Fallon suspected you might.”
Oh.
“Well, isn’t she clever?” he said to himself.
“That she is.” Krazinski’s smile had grown. “You’d better get going. Keep me informed. I’ll send you a direct-contact line that I’m always monitoring.”
“I will. Thank you.”
“Let’s save the thanking until we see how all this goes.” Krazinski nodded, then his image disappeared.
A ship waiting for him and a direct line to one of the most powerful members of the PAC. Plus a mission t
o partner with another one of the most powerful people in the galaxy.
Cabot supposed that made him the most important shopkeep in the PAC.
9
“Of course I’m in.” Omar offered an answer almost before Cabot asked the question. “I’m packing now. I’ll meet you at the docking bay shortly.”
“No pay negotiations first?” Cabot asked.
Omar paused and gave the screen his full attention. “Come on, Cab. Look at all the people involved and what’s at stake. If people like us have the chance to do something, it’s ridiculous to think we wouldn’t.”
“Does Peregrine have something to do with that decision?”
Omar’s right eyelid drooped, showing deep annoyance. “I’m not talking about her. I’ll see you there.”
The screen went dark.
Wow. Was Omar actually getting serious about Peregrine? Could she possibly feel the same? That could mean a whole heap of trouble.
He’d have to worry about that another day. Today, he had different trouble to deal with.
CABOT HAD EMBARKED on a number of journeys in the Outlaw, but this one felt different. He had a feeling of drive that he’d never felt before, not even when putting together his biggest business deals.
Was this how Peregrine and Fallon felt when they embarked on a mission?
He’d considered sending Ditnya a message beforehand, but dismissed the idea almost immediately. Ditnya was no doubt already feeling insulted and spiteful. Contacting her about something important electronically wouldn’t sit well, and would likely make her uncooperative.
Only face-to-face would do.
The navigation system indicated that it would take them four days to catch up to Ditnya. By luck, she was traveling toward the general direction of Dragonfire, though her heading suggested that Dauntless was her destination.
That gave Cabot four days to perfect his pitch to convince Ditnya to work with him—and, therefore, the PAC—to stop Barony’s attacks.
He spent most of that time alone, imagining her arguments and his responses. Imagining his arguments and her responses. Mentally running through everything she might say, and how he would counter.
It was like choreographing a battle.
Amazingly, Omar and Nagali gave him space. They took their shifts at the helm and didn’t show up at his quarters to chat.
Only once during a shift change did he and Omar have a real conversation.
“Where do you stand in all this?” Cabot asked. “You seem to have some conflicting loyalties, and that concerns me on your behalf.”
Though Omar had previously told him, more or less, to buzz off about this topic, this time he frowned, considering.
“I’m working it out as I go. As long as the PAC and Ditnya are working together, I’m good. It’s only if they have a falling out that I’m in trouble,” Omar said.
“You really think it will be that simple?” Cabot asked.
“Nah. But it’s what I’m telling myself, because I don’t have any other options.”
“I understand.” Cabot really did. He had his own divided loyalties to consider. He considered that as he worked out all the possible scenarios in his head to help him prepare for his showdown with Ditnya.
Finally, when he’d mentally worked through every possible conversation at least twice, they came into visual range of her ship.
He’d watched it grow from a sensor blip to an actual, hulking ship. The vessel wasn’t new, but it was well maintained and clearly capable of carrying a great deal of cargo. It also carried an impressive array of weapons.
He opened a channel and requested to speak with Ditnya.
Twenty minutes later, he was still waiting.
Finally, after thirty minutes, the woman herself appeared on his screen.
“Cabot,” she said.
He’d expected her to be chilly toward him. Ditnya didn’t respond well to not getting her way. He nodded to her respectfully. “Ditnya.”
“Has the admiral sent you here with yet another unacceptable partnership deal?”
Leave it to her to make this sound like a corporate merger instead of what was sure to become a bloody war.
“No. I’m here to offer you the original deal. You and me, working together with the PAC to bring down Barony.”
He was prepared for the five most likely things she’d say next.
She lifted her chin. “Very well. Bring your ship into the landing bay and let’s get started.”
That was the one thing he hadn’t expected her to say.
10
Once the Outlaw had been secured and the landing bay repressurized, Cabot, Nagali, and Omar stepped out into Ditnya’s ship.
Pigie met them. Cabot was glad to see a familiar face.
She said, “Overseer Caine wants to see you right away. Please leave your bags here, and I’ll have them delivered to your quarters for you. This way, please.”
Reluctantly, Cabot left his things on the floor. The truth was, they wouldn’t be safe from Ditnya’s scrutiny even once they were secured in quarters. He hadn’t brought anything too personal.
Nagali gave Pigie a severe look. “Make sure they take special care. My clothes are not meant for careless hands!”
“I assure you, they will remain in perfect condition. Follow me.” Pigie turned and began walking, without looking to make sure the three of them followed.
Pigie expected to be obeyed.
As Cabot had noted before, Pigie walked amazingly fast for such a short, stoutly built person. Trallians weren’t particularly known for being swift-footed, so it was something particular to Pigie herself.
After a long, fairly straight walk, Pigie stood aside and motioned them through a doorway.
“Before I go in, I’d like to present you with this.” Cabot removed her gift from his tunic pocket.
She eyed him warily, then reached for it. “It isn’t crappy, is it? I don’t deal well with disappointment.”
He was certain that was true.
“Definitely not crappy,” he assured her. “While I’m not familiar with your personal tastes, I think you’ll like this. And if not, you can sell it for a tidy sum.”
She sniffed. “Well, at least there’s that.”
As if she were doing him a favor, she unwrapped the package, opened the box, and pulled aside the protective cloth.
She gasped. “Oh.”
She looked to Cabot with wide eyes full of joy. “You do love me!”
“Erm…” Cabot’s discomfiture went unnoticed in Pigie’s scramble to poke the decorative comb into her hair.
“How does it look?” she asked. “I don’t have a mirror.”
It actually looked very nice on her. “Lovely. Every time you turn your head, the jewels sparkle like stars.”
Pigie did a little shuffle from foot to foot. A dance of joy? “Present accepted.”
She froze when her comport sounded. Taking a look at it, she sighed. “Ditnya’s waiting. You’d better get in there before she kills someone just to soothe her irritation. She hates to be left waiting, you know. But I’ll be talking to you later.” Pigie stabbed a finger at Cabot.
He didn’t know what her appreciation would look like. It might have been easier for her to be angry with him.
Cabot took a breath, steeling himself for the coming negotiations. He had no doubt they would be the most intense of his life. Exhaling, he stepped in.
Ditnya sat at the far end of an oval table. She gestured for them to sit.
Once they sat, she gestured for Cabot to speak.
Showtime.
“As you know, the Barony Coalition has taken actions that will impact not just the PAC but all commerce in this galaxy. Not just a little. Entire economies are going to be redrawn, whether the PAC wins or loses. Massive upheavals and governmental collapses will have a cascade effect on markets. Stability will not return for at least three decades. The only logical business decision is to work to shorten the war as much as possible, sho
re up existing economies, and ensure that the Planetary Alliance Cooperative does not splinter apart. The PAC has already recognized this, and is prepared to work with you. You, also, have already recognized this, which is why you participated in talks for as long as you did. The only variable is how much time we let pass while we argue about particulars. Barony is already moving, and each day we delay could mean adding more years to the time it will take to rebuild and restabilize. When can we get started?”
He stared at her pointedly.
“I’d recommend now,” Ditnya said. “Unless you have more of your speech to deliver.”
Nagali laughed. Cabot ignored her.
“You’ll agree to the original agreement terms?”
“Get up to speed, Cabot. I agreed days ago. I’ve just been waiting on you. Now that you’re on board, I recommend we go help out those friends of yours who’ve named themselves after birds for some reason. They’re about to get reduced to particles.”
CABOT HAD EXPECTED to do battle with Ditnya in glorious form, to agree upon terms, and almost ceremonially embark on their new endeavor.
Instead, she’d anticipated him, probably manipulated him, and now claimed that they were on their way to save Avian unit.
After conferring with her crew, Ditnya returned to the meeting room. “We’re burning hard to the last known coordinates of the Nefarious. I’ve been keeping an eye on them. What do you know of their situation?”
Did Krazinski know that? He’d thought the PAC was keeping an eye on her.
Cabot thought back to everything he’d heard Fallon say. “Two outposts had apparently disappeared. That was weeks ago, though.”
Ditnya shook her head. “You’re not much use, are you? Three more have blinked out of existence, along with some communications relays. Barony’s been creating a nice little dark zone for itself so it can move ships through to the Zankarti system. Whether it’s meant to be used as a base or just a waypoint is unclear. But your friends went out that way and haven’t been heard from again.”