“Good morning,” Atton replied as he started down the ladder to the deck. He watched the guards out of the corner of his eye as he descended. Both held their rifles trained on him.
“You might be surprised to hear that there’s been a change of command while you were gone.”
“Oh?” Atton reached the deck and turned to face Caldin. His eyebrows were raised curiously, as though he had no idea what she was talking about.
Caldin smiled and nodded. “It would appear that the overlord was a holoskinner.”
Atton feigned shock. “A what?”
“Yes, and I’ve heard some unfortunate things about you, too.”
Atton’s eyes flicked to the nearest guard and he found the man grinning nastily at him. “What kinds of things?” Atton asked, his gaze on Commander Caldin again.
“Corpsman Terl and Corpsman Donaas tell me you stunned them and stuffed them into stasis tubes in order to ‘shut them up’—is that true, Captain?”
Atton gulped, but said nothing to that accusation.
“At the very least that’s a crime against your fellow officers, but I’m curious as to why you’d want to shut them up unless you had something to do with what they might have revealed. Something to do with Doctor Kurlin’s virus, perhaps?”
Atton’s cheeks bulged with a retort, but he decided it would be better to say nothing, so he just stood there with his nostrils flaring and his eyes narrowing in on the two guards who had gotten him into this mess.
Caldin snorted. “Don’t worry—if you’re innocent, we’ll find out. We’re going to conduct a mind probe on the man who’s been impersonating Overlord Dominic, so we may as well conduct one on you, too.”
Atton’s eyes flew wide. “That’s illegal! It’s too dangerous. You’d need authorization from the overlord himself for that.”
Caldin shook her head. “In the event that the overlord is unavailable, such an order may be issued by a Captain or an Admiral of the fleet. There’s a Captain on Obsidian Station, and an Admiral at Ritan. Take your pick.”
Atton frowned, and Caldin nodded to the guards. “Arrest that man, Corpsman Donaas.”
“With pleasure!” he replied.
* * *
Ethan sat on the bunk in his cell aboard the Defiant, staring at his hands. His real hands—no longer the wrinkled, age-spotted hands of the overlord. Now that he’d been revealed for who he really was, and the holoskin had been stripped away, Ethan was trying to decide what to do next. As the overlord he’d had a purpose, a mission, a reason to struggle on, but now . . . now he was Ethan Ortane again, ex-con and lowly outlaw. Back in jail.
Déjà vu.
His thoughts took him back over ten years ago to when he’d been caught for smuggling stims and sentenced to exile in Dark Space. History had repeated itself, but this time there’d be no leniency for his crimes—no reason to let him out to support a struggling economy. Criminals as bad as him were executed, not punished and then rehabilitated.
The mind probe would discover everything. There’d be no way for him to hide. They would sift roughly through his memories with an AI, sorting them according to patterns associated with guilt. In that way they’d discover every crime he’d ever committed in his entire life.
Ethan was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of approaching footsteps. He looked up to see a very familiar face. It was the face of Adan Reese, but Ethan knew that under that holoskin lay his son, Atton.
Atton turned to him with a grim smile. “Hoi there, cellmate.”
One of the guards cuffed Atton across the back of his head. “Shut up!” They opened the cell opposite Ethan’s and shoved Atton roughly inside. Somehow, the guards hadn’t discovered that Atton was a skinner, too—and why would they? They had no reason to suspect he was someone else, but they obviously had leveled charges against him for having stunned them and stuffed them into stasis tubes.
As soon as the door to Atton’s cell slid shut and the guards had stalked away, Ethan stood and walked up to the bars of his cell. He waited until the guards walked out of sight, and then he whispered, “What are you in for?”
Atton shook his head and sat down on his bunk with a sigh. “Stupidity.”
“I notice those two guards are still on board. Why didn’t you just send them away like I asked?”
“It wouldn’t have shut them up for long. They knew about Kurlin. They would have unraveled the whole plot, and if someone had started looking for a holoskinning infiltrator among the survivors, you can bet they would have discovered both of us.”
“So you decided the best way to deal with that was to stuff them into stasis tubes until someone found them and let them out. You just delayed the inevitable and made yourself look guilty!” Ethan shook his head. “You were going to get caught either way.”
Atton looked up with a smile. “No, that wasn’t the plan. I was going to find a nice habitable planet somewhere along the way and jettison them both in an escape pod.”
Ethan gaped at his son. “You mean condemn them to die on a world that’s probably swarming with Sythians.”
Atton shrugged. “They would have at least had a chance. It was the best I could afford to offer them under the circumstances.”
Ethan shook his head and turned away with a scowl. “I can’t believe you’d even consider that. You may as well have killed them. It’s just as bad.”
“Said the mass-murderer to his son.” Ethan spun on his heel, his eyes flashing. “What did you say the reason was that you infiltrated the Valiant again? Something about being blackmailed to do it, or else Brondi would kill you and your copilot. I don’t see how plotting to kill a whole ship full of men and women to save your own skin is any different from me plotting to leave two men to the elements in order to do the same.”
Ethan grimaced. It was hard to argue with that logic, but he wasn’t appreciating the irony.
They were interrupted by a groan, and both turned toward the sound. Atton couldn’t see who was there because Kurlin’s cell was right next to his, but Ethan watched the doctor rise from the bed with a grimace. This was about to become much more complicated for him.
“What’s going on?” Kurlin asked, and then he turned to see Ethan staring at him from the cell opposite his, and his jaw dropped. “You! Who . . .” The doctor trailed off, shaking his head. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m the imposter, Kurlin.” The doctor just gaped at him. “That’s right,” Ethan nodded. “Shocking.”
“How . . . ?”
“It’s a long story—one which the mind probe will soon discover.”
“They’re going to probe us?” Kurlin asked, his eyes going wide.
“Why, are you afraid they might turn you into a vegetable? Vegetables can’t be tried for their crimes. You’d be better off.”
“He’s right, Kurlin,” Atton said.
Kurlin shut his mouth with a scowl and turned to look at the wall between him and Atton. “Who are you?”
“The one who saved your bony ass.”
“I don’t understand,” Kurlin said, shaking his head.
“Who do you think put those guards in stasis? They were the only ones who knew about you besides us.”
“Why . . . why would you do that?” Kurlin asked.
“Frekked if I know. Seems like I should have let them kill you.”
Kurlin looked away, back to Ethan. “Who is he?”
Ethan smiled, now finally freed of the need for subterfuge. “He’s my son.”
* * *
—THE YEAR 0 AE—
When Destra Ortane went back to check on the fleet officer she’d rescued, she found his gurney wedged at an angle between the walls of the corridor. He was moaning in his sleep, and he felt hot to the touch, but at least he was firmly wedged, so she didn’t need to find a more secure place for him to lie. Destra dug through the netting under the gurney to find that most of the food had fallen out and rolled to the back of the ship, but the medkit was still securely ti
ed. She opened it and injected the man with one of the last shots of antibiotics. That done, she patted his hand and said, “You’ll be okay.” He didn’t reply. He was still knocked out from the sedatives she’d administered hours ago, which was probably just as well. If he died, at least he’d die in his sleep. She headed back to the cockpit with a frown, thinking that the man would be lucky to live. His injuries had been very serious and there was almost certainly internal bleeding.
When Destra got back to the cockpit, she found herself blinking out at an unbroken vista of stars, and now she realized that the man’s injuries were moot. Neither of them were going to live.
Somehow, without her noticing, the Sythian fighter had dropped out of SLS far short of the next gate, and now she was stranded in the middle of who-knew-where. The most likely reason for that was that her fighter had run out of fuel.
Destra slumped down in the flight chair and took a quick look at what passed for the Sythians’ gravidar to see where she was. There appeared to be a planet not too far from her current location. The map couldn’t tell her what the planet was called in any name that she’d recognize, and it couldn’t tell her if the world were habitable either, but when she looked up into the starry void of space above her head, she saw it, and she didn’t have to wonder—she knew that it wasn’t habitable. The planet was so dark that it barely stood out from surrounding space. It was far from any visible sun, and appeared not to have any moons. It was also the only planet visible on the grid, which likely meant it was the only planet around for hundreds of millions of klicks. An exoplanet, she thought.
Destra grimaced, debating her options, but without fuel, she had no options, and it wouldn’t be long before the Sythians realized she hadn’t made it to the end of the space lane and began flying back from the gate looking for her.
That dark planet was her only chance—and it wasn’t a good one. Trying not to think about her odds of survival, Destra tilted the flight yoke up and pushed it forward to head in the direction of the planet. She silently wondered if she had enough fuel left to make it there. The answer which flashed up on the HUD was inscrutable, but when she wondered about setting an autopilot to land on the surface, the controls grew slack in her hands and her fighter drifted onto a more direct heading for the planet.
Hopefully that was a good sign.
Destra waited for what seemed like an eternity, wondering how she was going to survive. The atmosphere, if there even was one, was likely not breathable. The world was so dark that the temperature had to be well below zero. It was hard to imagine how dying in the cold, dark, and airless environment of that exoplanet would be any better than dying in the cold, dark, and airless environment of space.
By the time that dark world was all Destra could see in her forward view, her ship began to descend the last few hundred klicks to the surface. She saw the faint orange glow of an erupting volcano far below, and then she felt the slight vibration of an atmosphere tugging at her fighter. That much was a good sign, but the fact that the world was off the space lanes only confirmed its lack of habitability. The atmosphere was probably toxic.
Soon, dark wisps of cloud began drifting past the cockpit, and Destra saw a rugged mountain range appear below her. The mountains were riddled with glowing rivers of magma—yet another volcano was in the process of erupting there. It was strange to see a world so dark and cold belching fire and brimstone.
Lovely place, she thought.
Chapter 24
—THE YEAR 10 AE—
Alara noted Captain Reese’s absence from the briefing room as she, Gina, and Tenrik Fanton filed wearily inside and took their seats to be debriefed by Commander Caldin. The captain’s absence sent a stab of dread coursing through Alara. Had her own wingmate been killed and she hadn’t noticed? But no, she’d heard his voice on the comm several times since they’d reached the rendezvous. He was fine.
Alara sat down beside her bunk mate, Lieutenant Gina Giord, and gave the other woman a wan smile. Gina offered a weak smile in return and then looked away. It was a miracle that Alara could find even one friendly face left among the surviving pilots.
Once they were all seated, the commander proceeded to tell them the shocking news about the imposter overlord. But that wasn’t all. Caldin went on to explain Doctor Kurlin’s role in discovering the imposter and also in creating the virus which had killed the Valiant’s crew. Finally she got to the part about Captain Reese’s suspicious actions to cover up for the doctor.
They’d all stopped gasping and murmuring after hearing about the overlord. The rest fell on numb ears. Personally, Alara felt less shocked and horrified to hear about her father’s arrest than she was to hear about Captain Reese’s. All of it together was far too much for them to deal with after the long, exhausting mission with two trips through SLS and two back-to-back battles in which they’d lost almost the entire squadron.
Alara shook her head. It felt like she was trapped inside some horrible dream. The only good news was that it was over for now.
At least for them it was.
Commander Caldin told them that the Defiant would stay where it was. Parts and fuel would be scavenged from the cruiser to refit Brondi’s corvette for extended range, and then they’d send a skeleton crew and Tova on a straight jump to Obsidian Station to get help. Alara found herself wondering why they hadn’t just done that to begin with, but Caldin answered that question before anyone could ask.
“We’re now almost halfway to Obsidian Station. That’s just close enough for a heavily-modified corvette to make it there without using the space lanes. They’ll be safe—we’ll be safe until help arrives—a nice happy ending for everyone.” Caldin looked down at her lectern as if to read notes from a holo pad—but she hadn’t brought one. The commander was unable to meet their gaze.
Alara frowned. There was something she wasn’t telling them.
“Good job out there, pilots,” Caldin went on, still gazing at the lectern. “Go eat something from the mess and get some rack time. You all look like you need it!” Finally, she looked up, saluted them, and said, “Dismissed!”
As Alara rose from her seat, Caldin caught her eye and gestured for her to come down to the podium. Alara reached the base of the podium where the commander was standing and gave a tired salute. “You wanted to speak with me, ma’am?”
Caldin nodded. “At ease, Cadet. I need to know what you think of all this.”
“Of all what, ma’am?”
Caldin raised one eyebrow. “Your father is in prison awaiting trial for conspiracy and mass murder, and the leader of your squadron is also in prison, apparently an accomplice to those crimes. . . . None of that affects you?”
Alara hesitated, trying to decide what answer the commander was looking for.
“Don’t think too hard.”
“Well . . .” Alara trailed off. “I don’t remember Dr. Kurlin as my father. Everyone tells me he is, but that doesn’t make any sense to me.”
“Interesting,” Caldin mused. “And the captain?”
“I find it hard to believe him capable of those crimes, but he’s not a dear friend of mine.”
Caldin nodded. “All the same, I think it would be best if you went to the brig to say goodbye—at least to your father.”
Alara’s brow furrowed. “Goodbye?”
“They may not survive the trial, let alone their sentence. We’re going to subject them to a mind probe.”
Alara gasped.
“You’re dismissed, Cadet. My guards are waiting at the doors to escort you to the brig if you wish to go.”
* * *
Alara’s footsteps rang clearly down the corridor as she walked to the brig. Beside her walked one of Commander Caldin’s guards, and ahead, polished duranium walls and floors stretched endlessly. The brig was located in the far aft section of the lowermost of the cruiser’s 18 decks.
“So the Doc’s your father, hoi?” the guard asked.
Alara turned to him and gave a quick nod
. “That’s what people tell me.”
“Tell you? Oh, right—you’re chipped. What’s that like?”
“It’s like being yourself, except that everyone around you is judging you for it.”
“Hoi, sounds like being regular to me.”
Alara laughed. “Well, it could be worse I suppose. What’s your name?” she asked, her eyes on the man.
“Corpsman Terl,” the guard said.
They reached the brig, and Terl stepped forward to present his wrist to the door scanner. The door slid open and they walked in. They passed the warden, sitting with his feet propped up on his desk, reading a holo pad while security holos from the brig played in a continuous, silent stream above the desk. The warden looked up to see who’d come in, and Terl turned to him as they walked, “She’s going to pay her respects to the Doc.”
The warden nodded and went back to reading.
They reached the next door and again Terl passed his wrist over the scanner. It swished open to reveal another corridor, this one lined with jail cells. Alara let the corpsman lead, and he stopped just inside the entrance and gestured to the second cell on the left. “Doc’s in there.”
Alara started forward; her gaze flicked left to see Captain Reese staring at her, and then right to see—
She froze—blinking, her mouth half open as if she were about to say something, but had the words stolen from her before she could. The man in that cell stared back at her grimly, but now he nodded and smiled, as if he understood what had shocked her. Alara gazed into those familiar green eyes and studied the man’s ruggedly handsome face. Her gaze flicked up to his salt and pepper hair and she shook her head. She knew this man. A headache began encroaching at her temples, and abruptly Alara felt sick and dizzy. She squeezed her eyes shut to make the world stop spinning.
A scene flashed into her mind’s eye then. It was burned into her memory from recurring nightmares. In that scene the situation was reversed—she was inside the cell, and he was coming to see her.
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