The Dead Priest

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The Dead Priest Page 19

by K A Bledsoe


  Chapter Thirty-one

  Allison was going to wait on the bridge until her parents returned, but when Quinn vacated his post as soon as they signaled the shuttle’s return to the ship, she changed her mind. She downloaded everything onto pads as quickly as she could, wanting to catch up with her brother. Her mother’s vocal implant was still transmitting, and she caught a few words that she didn’t quite understand.

  “...makes no sense. Why would they take the girl? Bondle would be the more likely hostage. Something is not right here, Diarmin.”

  But she had no time to listen further as she saw the shuttle was nearly to the ship.

  As she descended the ladder, Quinn exited his cabin with his pack on his back. She followed him to the shuttle’s docking port but was surprised when he opened the weapons locker and grabbed a blaster to hide in his pack.

  “Do you even know how to use that?” she asked him, wondering at his odd behavior.

  “Stay out of it, Allison,” he said, voice gruff.

  Allison was startled at his tone. He had never spoken rough to her, even when he was angry with his parents. He had always been the gentle big brother. This new side of him scared her. It didn’t seem like Quinn at all.

  A few minutes later, their parents irised open the shuttle bay door and stepped through. Her mother stopped just inside, brought up short by an obviously angry Quinn standing with both hands tightly clenching his backpack straps. Diarmin barely had room to enter and seemed about to comment until he caught sight of the tense scene. Allison simply stared, not sure what to do.

  Lenore’s lips thinned as they usually did when she was fighting emotions. Her voice was calm as she gestured at Quinn. “And what exactly is this?”

  “I heard everything,” said Quinn.

  “And?” said Lenore.

  The muscles along Quinn’s jaw bunched, but Allison knew he wasn’t going to back down from whatever this was. She had heard everything too and still didn’t know what was in his mind.

  “Everyone seems to be worried about getting the cargo back. I noticed nobody even mentioned getting their hostage back.” He squared his shoulders and stood as tall as he could. It would have been comical if the situation wasn’t so fraught with tension. “I am going to help rescue Kurla.”

  Their mother simply stared unblinking at Quinn. He stared back, not losing his bravado one bit despite that glare. Allison had been on the receiving end of their mother’s gaze more than once and was obscurely impressed with Quinn’s resolve. Her eyes flicked to her father, but he was apparently not going to interfere.

  “Just because we didn’t mention Kurla doesn’t mean we aren’t going to help her,” said Lenore. “It's insulting for you to imply that.”

  Quinn’s jaw bunched again but he didn’t waver. “I am going.”

  “You are not.”

  They stood there staring, each not willing to back down.

  “Enough!”

  Allison literally jumped back a foot at her father’s near shout. He stepped between the two antagonists and gave each a stern look.

  “We don’t have time for this now,” he said, looking at Lenore. He turned to Quinn. “Quinn, I appreciate you wanting to help and in nearly any other circumstance, I would welcome you along. Your mother and I have already discussed this and in the future, you can be a great help.” Allison noticed her mother’s expression did not change but her feet shifted as if she didn’t agree with that statement. Her father continued. “However,” he said to forestall the triumph starting on Quinn’s face. “This time we will be facing two men who have already killed experienced patrol officers and an innocent scientist. They are very dangerous and ruthless. It’s not the mission for you to test out your new fighting skills.”

  Allison didn’t miss that emphasized word and neither did Quinn. He glared for another moment then pivoted and stalked off to his cabin. Diarmin turned to Lenore and the look that passed between them was indecipherable to Allison. Her father turned back to her.

  “What have you got for us, Alli?”

  Glad for the change of topic, she held out the pads one by one. “This one is what I got from the device program. It shows an external source of activation and control. It took some doing, but I determined that the control device is still activated.” She handed over the other pad. “By using one of my tracking programs, I have found that device at these coordinates and moving outward from the base. This last pad shows the signature and engine specs of the patrol ship. Tracking the patrol ship, its course matches that of the control device so I assume it is onboard that ship.”

  “Excellent job, Alli.” He juggled the pads into a stack and looked at Lenore. “Shall we set a course?”

  Lenore nodded and they all turned to continue down the corridor. As they passed Quinn’s cabin with the closed door, Allison made a snap decision that she hoped she wouldn’t regret. She stopped and turned to face her parents who almost ran into her.

  “Mom, Dad. There is something you need to see, well, listen to anyway,” she said in a soft voice so Quinn couldn’t overhear. Her mother simply raised an eyebrow and Allison knew she was pushing her luck, but she simply had to. “In your cabin?” The few steps back would give Allison time to think of the best way to explain why she had what she had.

  As they all entered the cabin, Allison closed their door and made her way to the desk with the computer. A few taps and she had the recording she wanted them to hear.

  “I know you didn’t want me to spy, but I happened to hear a conversation because I wanted to see if I could help talk to Quinn about whatever was bugging him.” This wasn’t quite the case, but the little deception would at least give her a good reason for disobeying her parents about spying. “This was right after the argument on the bridge about being raised on the ship.” She hit a key and Quinn’s voice piped out followed by Kurla’s. They listened without comment to the conversation where Kurla suggested Quinn leave with her. Even though she knew what was coming, Allison’s stomach still dropped as she heard the eagerness in Quinn’s voice. She closely watched her parents, but they were too canny to reveal their feelings.

  When it was over, her mother spoke. “Thank you for this, Alli. I don’t think you need to worry. It’s just a conversation.” She smiled. “I think teenage hormones are causing these reactions. We just hadn’t realized how much Quinn, and you,” she ruffled Allison’s curls, “have grown. Head to the bridge and pull up the tracking program so we can plot an intercept course. We will be up in a minute.”

  “Okay,” she said and left the cabin. After a few steps however, she stopped and quietly tiptoed back to their cabin. If that conversation was nothing, why did they need to discuss it privately?

  “…if you are sure,” Diarmin was saying.

  “Don’t you trust Quinn?” Lenore asked.

  “Yes, I do, but this is about something other than trust. I have to admit that lately I have no idea what is going through his head. I can’t read him anymore.”

  Her mother made a sound that Allison couldn’t quite fathom. Agreement? A groan? Then she spoke. “Either way, we need to sort it out with him.”

  “If we still can.”

  Allison turned and fled to the bridge before her parents caught her eavesdropping yet again.

  ***

  Quinn couldn’t sit still. He grabbed his pack that he had tossed on the bed. He unpacked it, neatly laying out the items on the bed, until he realized this was exactly what his mother did before and after missions. Then he nearly shoved everything off the bed until his hand touched the blaster he had stowed there. He picked it up and held it. Allison was right. He didn’t know how to fire it, but wasn’t the threat enough? If he could bluff convincingly, he wouldn’t have to fire it.

  Could he, though? What if they called his bluff and he was forced to shoot someone? He’d watched someone he knew be shot. On video and not in person, but it had still been horrible. Visions swam through his mind of bodies in the corridors outside of th
e slave cells. He’d put that out of his mind, but deep down he knew his mother had probably killed them while rescuing him.

  Could I pull that trigger?

  That’s what stun is for, said the little voice in his head.

  That’s true. Quinn searched for a switch for a stun setting but couldn’t find it. Did this blaster even have a stun setting? He also knew there was a safety but didn’t know how to disengage it.

  Suddenly he felt his anger rush back. His mother had been giving him and Allison self-defense training and had just started teaching him other fighting techniques. But she hadn’t even told them the basics of weapons. What if they couldn’t get away but got hold of a gun? They could use that information that she refused to share.

  Well, there was more than one way to find out about weapons. He sat at his terminal and started typing in search parameters. If they didn’t need him to help rescue Kurla, fine. He would help himself and be ready for anything.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  As the ship sped to intercept the thieves, Quinn still hadn’t made an appearance on the bridge. Diarmin kept glancing at Lenore but she was hiding her emotions well. No punching at the keyboards, no thin lips or bunched jaw muscles.

  Strange that she isn’t angrier about Quinn. Then Diarmin realized it had nothing to do with Quinn. It had to do with retrieving the stolen cargo. She was in battle mode and mentally preparing herself by emptying her emotions and formulating plans. She hadn’t been in that state for a while and, to be honest, since she lost the Xa’ti’al implant, he hadn’t thought she would. The implant helped with medical functions, but he had also determined that it suppressed emotion and heightened awareness which helped make the “perfect” soldier. Now Diarmin realized it wasn’t only the implant. Training also played a part in the emotion suppression. He just hoped it wouldn’t backfire without that implant to get her through it.

  And wouldn’t backfire on him and the kids.

  “I’m reading the ship now,” said Allison from her seat. “They are still in transwarp.” She typed a little more. “If my calculations are correct, they will need to make a course change within three hours.”

  “How do you know that?” asked Lenore.

  “Because if they don’t, they will fly right into a red dwarf star, or close enough to make no difference anyway,” Allison said with a shrug.

  “Keep a close eye on that, Alli.” Diarmin reached for the inter-ship communicator but his wife beat him to it.

  “Quinn, we need you on the bridge, now.” She closed the circuit without waiting for an answer. Her clipped tones and monotone voice told Diarmin she was all business. He only hoped it wouldn’t alienate Quinn any further. But if the last few days were any indication, it probably would. And Lenore, in this mood, wouldn’t even notice, making it worse.

  The footfalls on the ladder weren’t stomping, a good sign, and Quinn took his seat without comment, his face as emotionless as his mother’s. Diarmin felt a wave of relief. Maybe the impending action made them put all the resentments on hold.

  “Quinn,” said Lenore. “We are currently tracking the patrol ship, keeping pace. It is due to drop out of transwarp at any time in the next three hours and we need to be ready when they do. Since Alli is closely monitoring when they will shift, you will analyze the best way to disable that ship.”

  “You need me to do that, do you?” Quinn mumbled under his breath. But since Diarmin heard it, he knew Lenore did as well. She turned her chair to face Quinn.

  Uh-oh.

  “Yes, Quinn, we need you. Or maybe not. We could probably manage without you.” She ignored his hunching shoulders and reddening ears that told them he was getting angry again. “But the bare fact is that we are about to face a top-of-the-line patrol ship manned by people who we know will not hesitate to destroy this ship. Our shields certainly won’t withstand their weapons for long and we need exact timing with an exact shot in order to disable them in the few seconds before they can fire back. So, we might do this without you, but it would certainly help for you to shelve that attitude and assist us so that we have the best chance of surviving long enough to discuss it later.”

  Lenore swiveled her chair back to her station without giving Quinn a chance to respond. While Diarmin hadn’t wanted that kind of confrontation, it seemed to work for now as Quinn said nothing and began to prepare his station for his job.

  The next forty minutes were excruciatingly silent. The only sounds were the occasional beep of the computers and rustling of clothing when someone shifted uncomfortably in their seat. When Allison finally announced that the patrol ship’s transwarp field was destabilizing in preparation for a course change, the relief at something to do was palpable.

  “Based on the specs that Alli provided,” said Quinn, “the best way to take out the weapons or engine is to come at the ship from the port side, not behind or underneath.”

  “Excellent, Quinn,” said Diarmin as he adjusted course to do so. “Can you give your mother a specific target?”

  “Here.” He punched some keys that sent a picture to Lenore’s console. “That is where the weapon’s control blister is, near the front, and the engine’s is at the rear.”

  “All I see are two dots on the hull,” said Lenore.

  “Yes, they are beneath the hull for protection. I estimate at least two direct hits, probably three, for them to fail. With only six concussion missiles, you will have to be very accurate and probably only pick one target to eliminate the shields in that area.”

  “Shields won’t be a problem,” said Allison.

  “Why not?” said everyone else at the same time.

  “These specs were the classified specs, not the public ones. They include the shield codes so, ffffft.” She flicked her fingers into the air. “Gone shortly after they drop out of transwarp.”

  “That would have been nice to know, Alli,” grumbled Quinn.

  “It should have been obvious,” she said haughtily. “They don’t put weapons placements on public specs.”

  “Still—”

  “Transition in ten seconds,” Diarmin interjected. “And…five, four, three, two…there’s the ship.”

  Despite the tensions, the family went into action immediately. Allison punched in codes.

  “Shields down.”

  “Firing,” said Lenore.

  “Hull breached,” said Quinn. “One more ought to do it.”

  Lenore complied and the resulting explosion didn’t need Quinn’s yell of triumph.

  The ship responded by turning on its axis and the glow from the engines showed it was preparing to run.

  “Diarmin!”

  “On it!” He maneuvered their ship for the best possible angle for the engines and two shots later, the engine glow faded, and the patrol ship was dead in space.

  A male voice came through the speakers.

  “How dare you fire on a patrol ship. You have violated the law and will be—”

  “Don’t bother,” interrupted Lenore. “We know this ship was hijacked and is carrying illegal cargo. Prepare for boarding.”

  “Well, well, well. Little Captain Fleming is back. Are you pouting that we took your high-paying commission?” From the sound of the voice, it was the fake corporal talking and Diarmin knew the man had made a mistake in talking to Lenore like that.

  “Prepare to be boarded,” she repeated.

  “Feel free to try. We won’t surrender.”

  “I would suggest you comply. You’ve seen our accuracy. I have no compunction with holing your ship and letting you be sucked into space so I can retrieve the cargo at my leisure.”

  “I wouldn’t hole the ship, we have a hostage in our brig,” said the thief.

  “We are aware of that, and, while we would rather return her in one piece, I am sure the patrol would understand an accidental casualty,” answered Lenore.

  Quinn made an odd gurgle, but Lenore ignored it.

  Surely he doesn’t think she is serious, thought Diarmin.<
br />
  The following silence indicated he was pondering whether to believe her. Muted mutterings were heard before he responded.

  “How about we simply destroy the cargo? Then you would have nothing.” The man’s voice was close to a sneer, but Diarmin could hear a slight waver. He knows he has little chance of getting out of this.

  “Look, we can argue all day, but I don’t have time,” said Lenore. “I don’t want a fight so here’s my final offer. I am not the patrol or any sort of hero so you let us have the cargo and the girl, and I will look the other way as you escape with a very expensive patrol ship. You won’t get a better offer than that.”

  Mumbled words again as if the speaker was covered, then the answer.

  “Very well. You may board through airlock two. Not sure if the cargo-exchange systems work, being shot up and all.”

  “We will take care of it. Captain out.”

  “That was easy,” said Quinn.

  “Yes.” Lenore unstrapped and beckoned to Diarmin. “Too easy. We’ll be ready for a firefight. I am sure they suspect that we have no intention of letting them get away, much less with a patrol ship.” She started for the ladder but turned to the children. Diarmin also paused.

  “Both of you need to be prepared. For any situation. Monitor as usual. We know how to take care of ourselves in hand to hand weapons fire. If,” she held up a finger, “it all goes wrong, you both return to the base.”

  “But—” started Quinn.

  “No exceptions. The best chance we all would have is for you to contact Lieutenant Hammins. He can call in backup to help.”

  “I want to go with you,” said Quinn. His face showed a stubbornness that Diarmin was beginning to think was becoming permanent. “Three against two is better odds.”

  “Alli can’t pilot this ship if the worst should happen. Do as I say, no exceptions. However,” she said before Quinn could argue further. “If we are captured, you may join a rescue party with Hammins.”

 

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