by Ryk Brown
“That is very good news,” Vladimir agreed. “But not as good as my news.”
Nathan looked at him with suspicion. “Do I want to know?”
“The Aurora now has a two-thousand-light-year, one-minute jump range,” Vladimir boasted. “And she will still have plenty of jump energy left for combat.”
“Now that is good news,” Nathan agreed. “Well done.”
“It would have taken twice as long without the SilTek engineering droids,” Vladimir admitted. “Can we keep a handful aboard, just in case?”
“I’ll see what I can work out.”
“Want to get lunch?” Vladimir asked.
“I can’t,” Nathan replied. “I have to go get my ass kicked.”
“Can I watch?” Vladimir wondered.
“No thanks,” Nathan insisted. “It’s embarrassing enough as it is.”
“They are Ghatazhak, Nathan. They can kick everyone’s ass.”
“Don’t you have something to fix?” Nathan wondered.
“Actually, no…for once.”
“Perhaps you should take advantage of this rare moment and take a few hours off.”
“I’m not sure I remember how,” Vladimir replied.
“Maybe you can start by eating some of those dollag steaks we brought back from Palee,” Nathan suggested. “There are about a dozen of them in the cold pantry in the captain’s mess.”
“That I can do,” Vladimir assured him. “Good luck getting your ass kicked.”
“Thanks,” Nathan replied, turning to enter the Ghatazhak training room.
Once inside, Nathan found General Telles, Jessica, Sergeant Vasya, and Specialist Brill, all waiting for him.
“I’m not fighting all of you, am I?” Nathan wondered.
“Actually, you’re not fighting anyone today,” General Telles explained. “I believe we’ve humiliated you enough as of late. I thought it might be more productive to have you watch Vasya and Brill spar, and then we can teach you some of their moves, using Nash as your sparring partner.”
“So I’m not getting my ass kicked today?”
“Not today,” General Telles confirmed. “Unless that is what you prefer.”
“No, no,” Nathan was quick to reply. “Whatever you think is best,” he added, stepping into place next to Jessica.
“You’re such a wuss,” she whispered, smiling.
“Yes, but I’ll be a wuss who isn’t sore tonight.”
* * *
Loki had spent three days in the small storeroom in the barn loft, the last two of which he had been a prisoner, with the door locked from the outside. There was a window, but he was fairly high above the ground. In his current state, he wasn’t certain that he could land without breaking something. Considering he had no nanite booster shots available, he felt it best to give the existing nanites currently circulating in his system more time to work.
He had not seen Udo since the evening of the first day, when they had talked at length. Since then, Kado had been the one to bring his meals. Other than the few words when they first met, Kado had said nothing.
Eventually, Loki was going to have to find a way to escape. He had no idea what the brothers had planned for him. At first, he feared they would turn him over to the EDF, which would seal his fate. However, had they planned on doing so, he would probably already be in EDF custody. They were keeping him alive for a reason; he just didn’t know why. Had it just been Udo, Loki would feel far more comfortable. The man was incredibly curious and had seemed genuinely concerned for Loki’s wellbeing. Kado, on the other hand, was a different story.
The best that Loki could hope for was that the brothers would remain undecided long enough for Loki to heal. The barn was old and appeared not to have been very well built to begin with. Loki was fairly certain that he could break out if he put his mind to it. He just needed to wait until he could safely put his body into it as well.
Loki heard the downstairs door close, followed by footfalls ascending the stairs. Kado was on his way, which concerned Loki. It was too early for his evening meal, which usually came well after sundown. The sun had not yet dipped behind the nearby mountains.
The worst flashed through Loki’s mind. He listened more carefully, trying to discern the number of footfalls. Rhythmic; constant; definitely a single person. Yet there was something different about them. They were quicker, as if the person was more rushed than usual.
The footfalls stopped, and the door swung open, revealing Udo, a worried look on his face. “Oh, thank goodness,” Udo exclaimed, a sigh of relief washing over him. “I feared for your wellbeing.”
“Why?” Loki wondered.
“Kado would not let me bring you food. He did not want me speaking with you.”
“Yes, he told me as much.”
“He is distrustful, suspicious of everyone and everything,” Udo explained, moving to the window and carefully peeking out. “Has he been feeding you?”
“Yes, twice a day,” Loki assured him.
“How do you feel?”
“Better, but still weak.”
“Are you well enough to travel?”
“To where?” Loki wondered, becoming concerned.
“There is a man I know in the city. He knows people. People with connections.”
“Connections to what?” Loki asked.
“Not what,” Udo corrected, “who.” He looked out the window again, lowering his voice. “Insurgents.”
“I don’t know if I can walk very far,” Loki warned. “Maybe in a few days…”
“No, no, no,” Udo interrupted. “We must go now. There is no time.”
“Why?” Loki wondered, becoming even more concerned.
“Kado wants to turn you and the wreckage of your ship over to the EDF,” Udo explained.
“You recovered my ship?”
“Yes. We thought you were a downed satellite or a drone. We thought there might be some technology we could use or sell. We did not expect to find you.”
“Why does Kado want to turn me over to the EDF?” Loki asked.
“He believes there will be a reward.”
“That would be a huge mistake,” Loki warned.
“That’s what I said!” Udo exclaimed. “Wait, why do you think it would be a mistake?”
“I know things,” Loki explained. “Things that Admiral Galiardi does not want the people of Earth to know.”
“What kind of things?” Udo wondered.
“It’s better that you do not know, trust me.”
Udo thought for a moment. “I trust you,” he decided. “But we must go, before Kado returns.”
“Where is Kado?” Loki asked.
“He has taken his wife to visit her parents. He will return in a few hours.”
“Maybe we can talk to him, convince him that…”
“You don’t know Kado,” Udo insisted. “It was all I could do to get him to wait until you were more fully recovered. But he fears that if we wait too long, the EDF will charge us with a crime.”
“But won’t Kado be angry when he gets home?”
Udo looked at him, a little embarrassed. “Is there any technology in your wreckage that is of value? Something we do not have on Earth?”
“Actually, there is,” Loki admitted reluctantly.
“Then the insurgents will offer payment, and we will not run the risk of arrest for failing to contact the EDF from the start. Kado will be hard-pressed to argue if I am waving credit chips in front of his face.”
Loki sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, wincing at the pain as he moved. He then stood up slowly and painfully. “Then I guess we’d better get going.”
* * *
No one considered Lysan Proth a candidate to command a Dusahn warship, not even a small one. Like so many others
who served the Empire, only his father was of Dusahn blood. His mother had been Andonesian, thus, his features had always demonstrated that he was not of pure descent. In the Dusahn Empire, only those of pure bloodlines held command positions.
But that percentage had been shrinking for more than a century. While Dusahn ships were all commanded by pure-blooded Dusahn officers, there were many whose lineage was less than stellar commanding ground and support units. Few of them commanded actual combat units, but there were some. The fact was, Lord Dusahn did not fully trust those who were not pure of blood.
Many wondered if that would change after Lieutenant Jexx was suddenly thrust into the spotlight, becoming their leader’s most trusted advisor and jumping to the rank of commander in the blink of an eye. Jexx‘s mother was from Truuna, and there were even fewer Truunian-Dusahn serving in uniform, let alone as officers. The Truuna were devout pacifists, which had made them easy prey for the empire. Only a few hundred of the male children with Truunian mothers wore the uniform of the empire, and nearly a third had deserted when the Dusahn abandoned Truuna. Because of this, those Truunian-Dusahn still serving were even more suspect. Pure-blooded officers believed that the Truunian-Dusahn who remained only did so because they had no means of returning to their home world. The bias against mixed-blood members of the empire had only grown worse.
Yet here he was, sitting in the captain’s chair, commanding the newly christened Bor-Quarum, the first of the recently acquired gunships to have their upgrades completed and to be put into service for the Dusahn Empire.
Lysan’s father would have been proud. His mother, not so much. Either way, Lysan didn’t care. He was in command of a crew of twenty-six, all of whom were also of mixed blood. The fact that their commanding officer shared their stigma was a source of great pride to his crew, making them loyal to their commander before he had even proven himself.
Lysan had indeed been surprised when Commander Jexx himself had given Lysan the news of his command. Even more surprising had been his first assignment, the escort of a Dusahn freighter on its first trip to Volon since the world had been abandoned only months after annexation by the empire. A successful transaction and the safe return of the freighter would silence many pure-blooded nay-sayers still doubting Captain Proth’s character and abilities. It would also open the door for other mixed-lineage officers still mired in positions of limited responsibility, where distinction was hopeless.
“Jump complete, Captain,” the Bor-Quarum’s helmsman reported.
“Position?” Captain Proth asked.
The sensor officer studied his displays a moment. “One million kilometers from Volon.”
“Confirm course and speed.”
“On course for orbital insertion. Insertion deceleration burn in five minutes.”
Lysan turned his head slightly, calling to his second in command sitting at the tactical station to his right. “Assessment, Commander?”
“No contacts, no threats,” the commander replied.
“Mister Ostro, send a comm-drone back to the Oro-Bowona. Let them know it is safe to join us.”
“Message loaded; launching comm-drone,” the communications officer confirmed.
“Comm-drone has jumped,” Lieutenant Gartell reported from the sensor station.
“Hail the Volon Ministry,” Lysan ordered.
“Aye, sir,” Ensign Ostro acknowledged.
Lysan took a deep breath, preparing for his first official transmission as the captain of the Bor-Quarum.
“I have Chancellor Burland on comms,” Ensign Ostro announced.
“Oro-Bowona has just jumped in behind us, Captain,” the sensor officer reported.
Lysan pressed the comm-button on the small operations pedestal next to his command chair, activating his connection to the call. “This is Captain Proth of the Dusahn warship Bor-Quarum. We will be in orbit over Volon in four minutes. We look forward to a smooth and equitable transaction, paving the way for a peaceful relationship with your world.”
“Nicely phrased,” Commander Lobey stated, quietly enough so the Volonese chancellor would not hear.
“We welcome you to Volon, Captain,” Chancellor Burland replied over comms. “We also wish for a peaceful relationship with your people. However, we cannot in good conscience provide support for the Dusahn Empire, no matter how lucrative they may be. We hope you understand.”
Captain Proth felt his mood change, his father’s genes kicking in. “I understand completely,” he replied. “Unfortunately, I fear that you do not.” He took a breath before continuing, hoping the words that followed would sound honest and considered. “Conflict can be easily avoided, Chancellor. All that is required of you is to choose to avoid it.”
“The people of Volon are prepared to suffer the consequences of our decision,” the chancellor assured him. “We hope that you are similarly prepared.”
After another pause, Captain Proth replied, “I admire your conviction, sir. Good luck to you all.”
Commander Lobey looked at his captain as his commanding officer ended the communication. “Good luck?”
“It seemed a reasonable response.”
“I’m not sure Lord Dusahn would agree,” the commander stated.
“He will agree with what comes next,” Captain Proth assured his second-in-command. “Arm all weapons and prepare to attack. Primary targets will be infrastructure only. Hopefully they will change their minds before we are forced to destroy their entire society.”
“Should we not notify command of their refusal?” Commander Lobey questioned.
“The Volonese are completely unarmed,” Lysan explained, “and our standing orders are quite clear on the matter.” Lysan took a deep breath. “This shall be the Bor-Quarum’s first victory.”
* * *
Loki sat in the corner of the dimly lit restaurant, picking at his meal while keeping his eye on Udo at the bar. It had taken half an hour for Udo to load Loki’s wreckage back onto his truck, and another twenty minutes to reach town. If Udo was to get back home before his brother returned, he would need to leave as soon as possible.
Although the journey into town was not long, it had been a difficult one for Loki. The constant bouncing of the old truck had caused him great pain. He nearly lost consciousness more than once. But the time spent sitting and eating was helping. Loki was still weak, but the food was far better than what he had been eating the last few days.
A pleasant young woman came up to his table, adorned with an apron and carrying a small shot glass full of a light brown liquid. “An after-dinner drink, sir?” she offered.
“Uh…” Loki was unsure and looked toward Udo.
“Compliments of the house,” she insisted.
“Okay,” Loki replied.
The woman set the glass down on a napkin in front of him. “Shall I take your plate?”
“Yes, thank you.”
The woman took his plate and departed, leaving him with his drink.
Loki raised the glass to his lips and paused. The smell was not what he expected; fruity and sweet. He took a sip, found it pleasing, then downed the rest in a single gulp.
In the distance, a man handed Udo a small object, nodding at him. Udo bowed his head politely, then headed back to rejoin Loki.
“Is everything all right?” Loki wondered.
“He has agreed to take you to meet with one of the insurgent cells. He has also paid us handsomely for the wreckage of your ship.”
Loki looked disturbed.
“What is wrong?” Udo wondered.
“You are certain these insurgents are against Galiardi?”
“Quite certain,” Udo assured him.
“I’m not sure giving them the wreckage was the right decision.”
“Would it not be worse if it fell into the hands of the EDF?” Udo wondered.
“I suppose you’re right,” Loki admitted.
Udo sighed as the man he had been speaking with at the bar approached. “I’m afraid this is the end of our time together. I have enjoyed our conversations, and I hope you are able to find your way back to your daughter.”
“Thank you for all your help, Udo,” Loki replied. “And do not let your brother too heavily influence your outlook on life. That is yours, and yours alone.”
Udo smiled. “Kado has less influence on me than he would like.” Udo turned to introduce the man from the bar as he stepped up to their table. “Loki, this is Atushi. He will handle your transportation from this point.”
“A pleasure,” Loki greeted, bowing his head politely.
“Good luck to you, Loki,” Udo said as he rose. He bowed politely, then turned and departed briskly.
Once Udo had exited, the waitress locked the front door and closed the curtains before disappearing into the kitchen.
“When do we leave?” Loki asked becoming uneasy.
“That depends,” Atushi replied. “Do you feel sleepy?”
“Actually, I do,” Loki admitted.
“Then soon,” the man replied.
Loki suddenly felt dizzy, and his vision blurred. “Something is wrong.”
“Just go to sleep,” the man urged.
Loki’s vision faded quickly to black, and he felt as if he were falling.
* * *
“This ship may not be much to look at, but it does have some teeth,” Kit commented as he, Mori, and Jokay walked around the side of the Voss, examining the new gun turret installed on the outer edge of its port nacelle.
“How many guns did they add?” Jokay asked.
“Three,” Mori replied. “Port, starboard, and one in the nose.”
“How’d they put one in the nose?” Jokay wondered. “I thought there was a docking apparatus in there.”
“They moved that to the port dorsal airlock.”
“No dead zones in this ship’s field of fire,” Kit insisted.
“Ready to go, boys?” Jessica asked as she approached.
“Where are we headed?” Kit asked.
“Volon, then Ursoot,” Jessica replied. “Both should be easy runs.”