Captain Bayne Boxed Set

by James David Victor

  “You are as bold as your reputation says,” Jaxwell said. “I’m amazed it hasn’t gotten you killed yet.”

  “It’s come close,” Bayne said.

  Jaxwell sighed like he’d just come to the end of a fit of laughter. “Well, I can’t say it’s been a pleasure, but it’s been interesting.” His voice grew faint as he turned away from the comm and addressed someone else. “Do you have a lock on them yet, Captain?”

  Sigurd reached across the panel and muted the comm. “Sir, can I ask what’s going on? Who are you talking to? This some kind of bluff?”

  If nothing else, Bayne was happy to hear a sense of wonderment in Sig’s voice again. “No, it’s not a bluff.” Though it felt like one. Bayne’s heart raced, and his cheeks went hot as he listened and waited.

  Jaxwell’s voice came through the comm again, still full of bluster, but with more effort than before. “Captain Bayne, if you’d be so kind as to poke your nose out from wherever you’re hiding, I’d be happy to blast it off your face.”

  Sigurd’s hand was clapped over the comm’s mute button. Bayne met his gaze with a sly smile, disarming Sig’s defensiveness. Sig slid his hand away, allowing Bayne to press it.

  “Mister Byers,” Bayne said, “You have a lot to learn about life out here in the Deep Black.”

  Jaxwell laughed into the comm. “I think I’ve figured it out fine enough. Frontiers draw a certain sort of people. And I know people.”

  Bayne was about to answer when he heard a commotion on the other side of the comm. A knot of voices all hollering over each other. Then it went dead.

  Sigurd tensed. He gripped the controls, ready to abandon the approach and head back to the ship.

  Bayne rested his hand on Sig’s shoulder. “Wait.” He sounded calm.

  A minute passed. Then five. It felt like an eternity. Every second could have been the moment the frigate spotted either the shuttle or the Blue and blasted them both to nothingness.

  Mao’s voice broke the silence. “Sir, we’ve just received a black channel message. It says to head for the docking bay at the rear of the frigate. A woman called Elsa Torvul.”

  “Roger that, XO,” Bayne said. “Keep the engine running. We’ll be back in a minute and in need of a quick getaway.”

  Sig had yet to move the shuttle. He looked at Bayne with concern in his eyes.

  “Chief,” Bayne said. “Take us in.”

  “Who is Elsa Torvul, sir? How could you possibly have someone aboard the Burning Sun?”

  Bayne’s eyes narrowed. “Take us in, Chief.”

  Sig clenched his jaw and prodded the shuttle forward.

  The frigate didn’t react. Bayne didn’t expect it to. He had complete faith in the Lemire Protocol because he had complete faith in the person who wrote it. As they neared the docking bay, the gun batteries along the port side of the frigate became like the glaring eyes of a space god staring them down. They passed closer to final judgement with every inch of empty black void they crossed.

  Those eyes never blinked. But neither did they flare. Only the space god’s mouth moved, the docking bay opening, ready to swallow them whole. Sig cast Bayne a skeptical glance, but Bayne silently urged him forward.

  They entered the frigate and landed without issue. The docking bay was surprisingly empty. A small contingent of soldiers stood a hundred meters away, maybe twenty of them. Their blasters were at the ready, not raised but still pointed at the two figures halfway between them and the ship.

  Those two figures backed slowly toward the shuttle. As they neared, Bayne could see that only one of them came of their own free will. The other, a man in a finely-tailored, three-piece suit, was being pulled along at gunpoint.

  “Open the doors,” Bayne said to Sig. With a hiss, the shuttle depressurized, and its landing platform opened.

  The two continued to back up until they disappeared under the bow of the shuttle. They reappeared inside a moment later.

  “You are going to regret this,” Jaxwell said.

  “Perhaps,” said Bayne. “But I don’t yet. Until then, welcome aboard, Mister Byers. And you, Miss Torvul.”

  Sig turned in his chair to look at the newcomers and was surprised to see that he recognized one of them.

  “Thanks, Captain,” Elsa Torvul said. “But I prefer Delphyne.”

  12

  The ride back to the Blue was uncomfortable for several reasons. The kidnapped trust fund brat was chief among them. He hadn’t stopped talking since he came aboard.

  “I can’t believe how stupid you people are. Defying the clan is stupid enough. Taking Ore Town. Attacking Triseca. But this, coming after me? That’s next-level stupid.”

  Bayne looked unimpressed. “First, none of those things were me. But you’ve already begun to prove useful. I need to know what the clan knows. In learning what you know, seeing how you’re so critical to the success of the Byers operation, I learn what the clan knows and where their information is coming from. Maybe I learn a little about the endgame.”

  “I’m not going to tell you anything,” Jaxwell said, doing his best impression of a brave man.

  Bayne smiled and leaned in a little. “Yes, you will. Because you’re a self-righteous cur, and you’ll break before I’ve even had the chance to smell your blood.” Bayne smiled wider as he watched Jaxwell squirm.

  After the irritation that was Jaxwell Byers the man, there was the complication that was Jaxwell Byers the prisoner. The original plan was to occupy the Burning Sun, question Byers, and then leave. They never intended to take prisoners. Bayne knew that Mao would object, and the XO had good reason to. Taking such a high-value target prisoner only broadened the target already on their back.

  Ore Town and Triseca, as incorrectly attributed to Bayne as they were, were seen as attacks against the entity, the conglomerate. The clan was used to that. They were attacked by pirates regularly. But this would be seen as a personal affront, an attack on the Byers family. This would bring down the full wrath of Jasper Byers, the clan patriarch, and a man with a longstanding reputation for ruthlessness.

  But this was the only way to get the information they needed to clear their names and this mess they’d found themselves in the middle of. Not that that would assuage Mao at all. Bayne loathed the coming confrontation. It seemed that was the only form of interaction Bayne and Mao had nowadays. He wasn’t sure he’d ever have considered Mao a friend, that kind of personal relationship was tricky between commanding officers and subordinates, but he’d always respected Mao and his counsel. Lately, he just wanted Mao to stay out of his way.

  The last, but certainly not the least, contributing factor to the tension on the shuttle was Delphyne. They’d made quite a show of her exit. None on the crew were sure they’d ever see her again. Sigurd was affected more than most. He and Delphyne were close. Bayne long suspected a romantic relationship between the two, or at least a budding one, but that didn’t matter. This was a betrayal regardless of their relationship. She’d lied to him and all the others. She colluded with Bayne to deceive them. It didn’t matter how she or Bayne spun that, the only reason that mattered was because they couldn’t be trusted.

  As blunt as that was, it was true. Tirseer had already gotten to Hep. Bayne didn’t know who else she may have gotten to. He needed eyes on the clan, and he needed to keep the circle of people who knew small.

  There was little they could do to soothe that transgression. Especially when time didn’t allow for the effort. Bayne had other things to focus on than social niceties. Again, he found himself missing the enforced rigidity of the Navy. Countless times he questioned the orders of his superior, and his subordinates questioned his, but they accepted them as law. Now, he somehow found his order up for debate.

  But Delphyne didn’t have that context. In her heart, she’d betrayed her friends.

  Judging by Sigurd’s tense shoulders, he viewed it the same. He never once cast a glance over his shoulder at the friend he thought he might never see again.
r />   “Captain?” Mao’s voice was pregnant with accusation. “What did you do?”

  “Don’t know to what you are referring,” Bayne said. He pointed his blaster at Jaxwell’s face as soon as the prisoner opened his mouth to speak.

  “We’re picking up a lot of interesting chatter over the Byers Clan network,” Mao said. “Something about an abduction.”

  “I’ll debrief you as soon as we dock,” Bayne said.

  “That may need to wait,” Mao said. “The Burning Sun is mobilizing short-range fighters and assault units. They seem rather agitated by this alleged kidnapping.”

  “Spool up the engines,” Bayne ordered. “Prep a hard burn out of the Rickard Sea. I want as much space between us and the Burning Sun as possible in the next hour.”

  The shuttle was silent until it docked with the Royal Blue. It wasn’t until the landing platform lowered and the shuttle bay came into view that Bayne realized he hadn’t alerted the crew as to the second person that joined from the Burning Sun. The looks on the crew’s faces was enough of a reminder.

  Wilco was the first to welcome them aboard. He had become Sig’s de facto second-in-command on the security force. When Sig was on away missions, Wilco took it upon himself to secure the shuttle bay. He greeted Jaxwell with fire in his eyes. Wilco had nothing but disdain for those running things. A man of such wealth and influence as Byers was exceptionally loathed.

  “Take him to the brig,” Bayne said to Sig, who then nodded to Wilco, silently relaying the orders. “No detours,” Bayne added. “And don’t talk to anyone.”

  Wilco did a double-take when he caught sight of Delphyne. He seemed indifferent about her return, but not so much that he didn’t notice its effect on Sig. “All good, Chief?”

  “Fine,” Sig said. They escorted Byers out of the bay.

  Wilco cursed something at Byers as they marched down the hall.

  “What about me?” Delphyne said to Bayne.

  The question was heavy with regret, like a child after being scolded. She seemed to shrink. Her regret lit a similar feeling in Bayne. He was the parent who let his temper get the better of him. He was the parent watching his child cowering in the corner, coming to the realization that it was he she was so terrified of.

  “Report to your quarters,” Bayne said. “They haven’t changed. Get cleaned up. Rest.” He gripped her shoulder, held her eye in a reassuring look. “You did good.”

  She returned a nod but not the assurance.

  Bayne steeled himself for the confrontation before stepping onto the bridge. Which would be the bigger issue, he wondered, as the door slid open. Mao must have been staring holes through the other side of it, waiting for Bayne to step into his line of fire.

  “Is it true?” Mao said.

  Bayne shrugged, letting Mao reveal his hand.

  “She’s back?”

  “Yes,” Bayne said. “Delphyne is back.”

  Mao’s stoic face cracked with a micro-expression of joy but immediately returned to the tight, judgmental face Bayne knew. “And you found her on the Burning Sun?” His tone was like a dagger slash across his chest, a shot across the bow.

  And it drew the attention of the rest of the bridge crew. They looked to Bayne for answers and for his rebuttal, his slash back.

  Two routes opened before Bayne. He could silence Mao with a tight-jawed dismissal and promise of later explanation, or he could be out with it. Each had benefits. The more contained he could keep his actions, the more control he had over the outcome. If there was ever a time for tight reins, this was it. Spies and moles were the order of the day. He’d begun employing the espionage tactics himself.

  But he was a Ranger, not a spook, and he was quickly growing tired of secrets and shadow games.

  “That I did,” Bayne said. Best to be out with it, then. “I knew I’d find her there because I was the one who ordered her into deep cover within the Byers Clan. I ordered her to break that cover so we could take Jaxwell Byers aboard the Blue and find out what’s going on.”

  Best to be out with all of it.

  Mao’s lips puckered. “You did what?”

  His disbelief was echoed by much of the bridge crew. A quick, collective inhale nearly sucked all the oxygen out of the room. “Let’s focus, now,” Bayne said, trying to temper the anger flooding his brain and relay the information without attacking Mao. “I ordered Delphyne off this ship, deliberately deceived all of you, and placed her in deep cover without backup. I did that because both Parallax and Centel have a history of using moles to attack their enemies from within. Both with great effectiveness. Centel tried to infiltrate this crew before Triseca and was nearly successful, so I didn’t know who I could trust. I still don’t. But I’m damn tired of sneaking around in the dark.”

  Mao’s jaw tightened, but not in the way it did when he was trying to keep from questioning Bayne. The way it did when he was questioning himself.

  Bayne took it as a sign to keep pressing. “And, yes, we are now in possession of Jaxwell Byers, son of Jasper Byers, intergalactic asshole of some renown. He is our best chance of getting some answers, and maybe clearing our names so we can all get back to sailing under a banner.” That sentiment rang hollow for Bayne, but he felt the attitude on the bridge shift. “Having him here also puts a huge target on our back, so, if we’re done, I’d appreciate if you would put us in a hard burn out of Byers territory.”

  Mao’s eyes flicked about Bayne’s face like a pesky fly. He nodded and said, “Aye, Captain.”

  They exited the Rickard Sea in a little under an hour. The nature of the place meant all hands at attention until they were free of the gravitational anomalies. Once they were, Bayne left the bridge and made straight for the brig.

  Sigurd and Wilco were standing guard. Wilco leaned against the wall, twirling his dagger, watching it like it was leaf plucked off the branch by the wind and floating down to the ground. Sig stood at attention, weapon at the ready.

  Bayne appreciated the diligence, especially considering that a mole on the ship was a real possibility. But he didn’t appreciate Sig’s finger inching slightly closer to his trigger at the sight of Bayne.

  “How’s the prisoner?” Bayne said.

  “Loud,” Wilco said. “Guy doesn’t shut up. At least, he didn’t.”

  “What does that mean?” Bayne said.

  Wilco shrugged. “Means he tripped and hit his face on my fist. Total accident, but he seemed to take it as some sort of threat.”

  Wilco’s behavior didn’t surprise Bayne, but Sig allowing it did. Bayne zeroed Sig in an interrogative glare.

  “I was away from my post,” Sig said in a robotic tone.

  Bayne grunted a disapproving sound and gestured for Sig to step aside. He eyed Wilco with a narrowed stare as he reluctantly moved.

  The door squealed as it opened inward. Jaxwell flinched at the unexpected movement and the appearance of Bayne in the doorway.

  Bayne stood for a moment, allowing Byers to soak in the horrors of his own imagination. The tortures he thought up were far worse than anything Bayne would probably do to him.

  Byers straightened as Bayne stepped into the room. He could tell that Byers wanted to speak. His lips quivered against a stream of words fighting to get out. The cut over his eye discouraged him from letting them loose.

  “Sorry about that,” Bayne said, pointing at the cut. “Wilco is a bit exuberant.”

  Jaxwell laughed. “Spare me the head games. You sent him in here to rattle me. Then you come in, exhibit empathy, and form a connection. Then you get me to contact my father and convince him to pay whatever absurd ransom you’re demanding.” He crossed his arms across his chest. “Whatever amount you’re asking for isn’t nearly enough. And, also, you can go walk out the airlock, because I’m not going to help you extort my family.”

  Bayne laughed, possibly tipping his hand and shattering his illusion at the very least. But he couldn’t help being amused that every word out of Jaxwell’s mouth was so wro
ng. “Believe what you want. As long as you tell me what I want.”

  “I won’t help you extort my father,” Jaxwell said, jutting his chin out defiantly.

  “I’m not interested in your father’s money. I’m not interested in your father at all. I kidnapped you because of you.” Bayne flashed a patronizing smile. “Congratulations, you’ve stepped out of your father’s shadow.”

  Jaxwell shifted his weight and his attitude from defensive to interested. Though Bayne meant it as a sarcastic jab, Jaxwell took it as a genuine compliment. “What are you talking about?”

  Bayne squatted, resting his elbows on his thighs and putting all his weight in his heels. “You’ve been putting out contracts on me.”

  Jaxwell kept his expression tight. There was a subtle change, but not enough that Bayne could read the thought behind it.

  “I’ve spoken with a few of your subcontractors,” Bayne said. “You get what you pay for.” He shrugged, again heavy on the patronizing and ego. “They pointed me toward the broker you used. Abbaghast.”

  “Never heard of him,” Jaxwell said.

  “He’s here.” Bayne jutted a thumb behind him. “I can get him if you’d like. Maybe air some professional grievances. Request a refund?”

  Byers pushed his back into the wall and used the leverage to get to his feet. He paced along the wall, looking down at his feet, stroking his chin.

  As he paced, an idea began to form in Bayne’s mind. As Byers took his seventh turn, the idea solidified. “You didn’t know.”

  Jaxwell froze. He looked down at his hands, his eyes wide and busy. Something was running through his head, a puzzle being pieced together. And then the last piece clicked together. Byers shot upright. “No.”

  Bayne stood to match him. “What? You just realized something. What is it?”

  Byers walked away. He stood in the corner, staring at the wall. He was silent a moment. The emptiness of the brig filled with the heaviness of the realization inside Jaxwell’s head. “I won’t help you take down my father.” He sat cross-legged in the corner and leaned forward, his forehead resting against the wall.