At Circle's End

by Ian J. Malone

  “My point, Pralah, is that every mission I order, no matter how insignificant it may seem from the outset, has a purpose.” Masterson produced his tablet, entered a series of commands, and handed it to Kai-Ool.

  The pralah skimmed the report in its display. His eyes went wide at its conclusion. “These are access codes to the Auran security network.” He looked up. “How did you get these?”

  “Corporal Sadhwani of the Kamuir is quite the competent code breaker.” Masterson tucked the device back under his arm. “In the midst of the melee, he managed to hack them from the colony’s info grid and relay them back to the ship via subspace. That was his assignment.”

  Kai-Ool’s expression turned quizzical. “ASC protocol dictates that any and all computer files be wiped during the evacuation process.” He blinked. “They have no idea that you took these, do they?”

  “Nor will they,” Masterson said, “now that they’ve deleted their own evidence.”

  Kai-Ool turned his gaze to the forward viewport, his customary cool now twisted into a smirk of what looked like concern.

  What are you thinking? Masterson studied the alien’s demeanor. The pralah had been impressed by Masterson’s findings—of that he was certain. But that wasn’t what perplexed Masterson. What bothered him was that, for the briefest of instants, Kai-Ool had almost appeared alarmed or even put off by it all. But why would that be?

  Kai-Ool returned his focus to the chancellor. “Am I to presume, then, that you have plans for this information?”

  “Indeed,” Masterson said.

  “And might I inquire as to the nature of those plans?”

  Masterson considered just how forthright he wanted to be. “A moment ago, you said that you can’t unleash the full power of your fleet because you lack the resources.”

  Kai-Ool nodded. “That’s correct.”

  “And by resources, I assume you mean caldrasite for fuel.”

  “Also correct.” Kai-Ool sighed. “What are you getting at, Chancellor?”

  Masterson stood up straight. “Pralah Kai-Ool, I believe that I can solve both of our problems in one fell swoop. To do that, however, I’ll need your help—and not to the tune of two ships, mind you, but rather every ship that you can spare.”

  “To what end?”

  Masterson’s smile turned grim. “A single, one-off offensive—my fleet and yours versus that of the Auran Star Corps.”

  Kai-Ool traced a thin, purple tongue over his red-scaled lips. “The caldrasite mine on Kendara? You mean to seize it for imperial control.”

  Masterson chuckled. “At the risk of offending, Pralah, I thought you a grander thinker than that.”

  The alien didn’t appear to follow.

  “The mine,” Masterson explained, “is but part of the snake’s body. I mean to cut off its head.”

  Kai-Ool’s golden eyes flicked with understanding. “You intend to attack Aura herself.”

  “Correct.” Masterson stood up straight. “When it’s done, and Aura stands in ruin, we split the spoils in half, beginning with the Kendaran mine.”

  Kai-Ool gave a slow, easy nod. “That’s quite the bold plan, Chancellor, even for you. Do you have the support of your parliament in this endeavor?”

  Masterson snorted. “I have the support of my men. That’s all I need.”

  “And who among them knows of this?”

  “My senior staff on the Kamuir and a handful of other commanders who’ll need to be involved.” Masterson folded his arms. “That just leaves you, Pralah. I’ll need your support as well if I’m to succeed at this. The only question now is, will you lend it?”

  Kai-Ool hesitated, considering. Then, as if on cue, the alien commander flashed a mouthful of razors beneath the dim glow of the CIC’s chamber lights.

  Something’s not right.

  “Very well, then,” the pralah said. “What do you require of us?”

  “That depends,” Masterson said. “How many ships do you have at your disposal?”

  “Nine in orbit, but I can offer triple that by 0800 tomorrow. More if you can wait.”

  Masterson shook his head. His circle was tight, sure. But these days, even with top-flight security and a deleted colonial data core, breaches were still possible under the right circumstances. “The timeline stands. Tell your people we launch in twenty-four hours.”

  The alien signaled his officers into motion. “It shall be done.”

  “Oh, and Pralah Kai-Ool?”

  “Yes?”

  “I require one additional thing,” Masterson said. “I require your solemn vow that no matter what happens, your forces are committed to this campaign. And by committed, I mean from the first round to the last. Do I have that assurance?”

  The pralah rose to his full height, his elongated head rising tall and proud toward the ceiling. “You have it indeed. We’ll be ready to deploy in a day’s time.”

  Masterson gave him a long, hard look before responding. You’d damn well better be. “Outstanding. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have arrangements to make.”

  Once outside, Masterson boarded the lift and shot a final stare back to the CIC as that same uneasy feeling crept through the pit of his stomach. It was a feeling he knew well, and he’d learned to trust it a long time ago. Blessed gods in the stars, grace me with your wisdom. What are you trying to tell me?

  The lift began its descent toward the launch bays below. There, Masterson hooked right down the first corridor he came to and arrived back at his shuttle, where the pilot indicated that all was prepped for departure. Masterson signaled her to get underway. After that, he retreated to his private cabin and found the comm light on his terminal blinking an alert. He checked the identifier then thumbed the Respond key. “Dr. Kerns, report.”

  “I’ve concluded my inspection of our latest batch of hybrids,” said the head of the Alystierian science directorate.

  “And?” Masterson asked.

  “Everything checks out pristinely, sir. They’re most impressive.”

  Masterson rubbed his temples. “Check them again.”

  “Sire?”

  “I said check them again, Kerns. And while you’re at it, check every other hybrid in the fleet. Tear them apart if you have to, but I want them completely reinspected down to the slaring rivets. Is that clear?”

  Kerns swallowed. “Crystal, Sire. But…may I ask what we’re looking for?”

  Masterson slumped back at his desk and stroked his beard. “I’m not certain; it’s only a feeling. Just see to it that you’re thorough, and call me when it’s done. Masterson out.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter 23: Undaunted

  Standing in Vanxus’ CIC, Ceda Von Jahara studied his commander with extreme curiosity. Masterson had been gone for minutes, though in that time, Kai-Ool had yet to speak. He stood there—hands clasped at his back, eyes fixed on the starry scene outside—thinking.

  The anticipation among the crew was palpable.

  “Senior Pralah, sir.” Jahara cleared his throat. “What are your orders?”

  Kai-Ool didn’t turn, and his cool didn’t falter. “Has the algorithm been uploaded into the C-100 Phantoms?”

  Jahara surged with excitement. “Yes, sir, last week after final testing.”

  “Good. Contact the Imperial Guard, and alert them that their fighters are ready ahead of schedule.”

  Finally. A crooked grin spanned the entirety of Jahara’s face. “You mean to end them at Aura. All of them.” It wasn’t a question.

  Kai-Ool turned from the glass, his expression one of stone, and strode for the door. “Ready the weapon. We deploy tomorrow.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter 24: Hail

  Once the ASC ships had entered hyperspace, Lee waited for Overlook to dock with the Praetorian then exited the debarkation hatch onto the ASC flagship. Mac was already there and waiting for him as were Katahl and Wylon, who’d just shuttled in from Fort Manning.

  “Oh, thank God.” Mac threw her arms
around her husband. “Please don’t scare me like that again.”

  Lee hugged her back then saluted Katahl and the others. “Where do we stand with the colonists, sir?”

  “All present and accounted for, Captain,” Katahl said. “Thanks to you and Sergeant Major Noll’s ground team.”

  Lee scratched his whiskers. “Much obliged, sir, but the truth is it’s Overlook that deserves the credit. Had Danny and his people not dropped in when they did, I doubt any of us would’ve made it out of there.”

  Reegan and Shotz joined the others on the deck.

  “Where is Danny, anyway?” Wylon searched the hatch behind them.

  Reegan put up his hands. “No clue, sir. The plan was to get Lee, Noll, and the others out while Danny provided cover then loop back to pick him up. We did that, but when we arrived back at the mesa, Danny was gone.”

  Mac raised an eyebrow. “Gone, like how?”

  “Gone, as in we found Mr. Black shot to hell in the sand but no Danny.” Reegan shrugged. “He wasn’t in the armor.”

  Wylon ruffled the back of his hair. “That doesn’t make any sense. Any chance he could’ve been captured, or worse?”

  “To be honest with you, sir,” Reegan said, “I don’t think it was either.”

  “Why is that?” Katahl asked.

  Lee took this one. “Well, for one, we found no sign of blood inside of Mr. Black’s operator cocoon. What we did find was a dead humanoid lying naked in the sand along with nineteen of his armored counterparts and three of their drop pods. That leaves five centurions in the wind and one ship.”

  Katahl traded looks with Wylon. “What are you saying—that Danny was captured by the landing party?”

  “I don’t think so, sir,” Lee said. “It’s more likely that Danny killed the humanoid and took his armor. After that, I believe he left with the other centurions to return to wherever they came from.”

  Wylon pursed his lips. “Don’t be mistaken, Captain Summerston; I like that outcome a lot better than the alternative. But what makes you think that’s the case?”

  “Mr. Black’s O2 supply is missing,” Shotz said. “I noticed it when we salvaged him from the surface. The canister’s been removed, plus there was a native canister from one of the aliens in the sand nearby.”

  “He’s going after Masterson,” Mac said.

  “It’s a dang good bet, yeah,” Lee agreed.

  The nearby wall terminal chimed. “Admiral, this is Colonel Lin on the bridge. Please respond.”

  Katahl tapped the Respond key with the butt of his fist. “Go ahead, Colonel.”

  “Sir, I hate to interrupt, but LORASS has a ship on an intercept course with us.”

  Katahl looked back to the others. “Origin?”

  “It’s an Alystierian transport shuttle, sir. It appears to have followed us out from Thawnose.”

  Katahl straightened abruptly. “Go to red alert.”

  “You may want to delay that,” Lin said. “The shuttle is hailing us.”

  Surprise swept like wildfire through the bay.

  “No harm in hearing them out, I suppose,” Wylon said to Katahl. “Let’s go see what they want.”

  * * *

  Emerging onto the Praetorian’s bridge ahead of Mac, Lee descended the steps to the chamber’s lower tier and moved aside while Katahl and Wylon joined Colonel Lin down front. Cast on the main screen was the view from Praetorian’s stern, where a lone ship trailed just beyond the carrier’s hyperspace wake.

  Katahl turned to comm station. “Has the pilot given an IDC?”

  “No, sir,” Floyd said. “He hailed long enough to say he’d only speak with you or the president. He hasn’t acknowledged any of our hails since.”

  Man, this is weird. Lee glanced at Mac, whose expression said she didn’t know either.

  Katahl stepped forward. “Put him through.”

  The picture on the screen flashed to that of a lone individual seated in a cockpit. He was slender, in his midthirties or so with a sharp jaw, glasses, and a mole the size of an acorn on his lower-right cheek.

  Lee observed the man’s darting gaze and twitchy posture. Boy, somethin’ has you spooked.

  “Admiral Katahl.” The stranger’s voice yielded a slight crack.

  “That’s right,” the admiral said. “And you are?”

  The pilot swallowed, eyes flicking offscreen then back on again. “My name is…Commander Kynrick Ovies.”

  Katahl and Wylon traded looks of shock.

  “Ovies?” the president said. “As in, the Kamuir’s XO, Ovies?”

  The pilot nodded. “Yes, the same.”

  “What do you want?” Katahl asked.

  “For starters,” Ovies said, “safe passage onto your ship. From there, I want asylum and full immunity for any crimes I’ve committed during my service with the empire.”

  Several of the bridge officers, most notably McLeod, scoffed loudly.

  Katahl stayed cool. “And why, Commander, would we want to do that?”

  “Because I have information to trade.” Ovies shifted in his seat. “Information that you’ll want to hear.”

  Wylon folded his arms. “All right, then. Let’s hear it.”

  “First, I want onto Praetorian,” Ovies said. “After that, I’ll talk, and only to one man: Lucius Zier.”

  The demand gave Wylon pause, though to his credit, his poker face never faltered. “My apologies, friend, but I can’t help you there. We don’t know your ex-chancellor’s whereabouts any more than you do.”

  “Don’t hand me that,” Ovies shot back. “Everyone in the fleet knows he defected to Aura at Coralin 3. He’s the only one I’ll talk to.”

  Wylon stroked his chin as he considered Ovies’ request. “Fine. Prepare to drop out of hyperspace and set down on our flight deck. Just so you know, Commander, you will be greeted by an armed escort. I hope you’re okay with that because it’s nonnegotiable.”

  The pilot nodded. “I understand. Ovies out.”

  Once the channel had disconnected, Lin signaled the convoy to exit hyperspace and began the coordination for Ovies’ landing.

  “What do we make of this guy, sirs?” Lee asked Wylon and Katahl.

  The president shook his head. “Briggs has mentioned Ovies in passing. He was on the Kamuir when Masterson found the Kurgorian homeworld, but he wasn’t on the site team. As for what he’s got to say, I have no idea. But I am prepared to hear him out.”

  “And what of Zier?” Katahl asked. “Are you planning on granting Ovies access?”

  “Perhaps,” Wylon said. “But first let’s get him back to Aura and put him in front of Briggs. They know each other, so maybe the captain can get something out of Ovies that the rest of us can’t.”

  Katahl nodded. “Understood. I’ll contact Manning and have Captain Briggs standing by for our arrival.”

  “Good.” Wylon started for the stairs. “Now, let’s go see what this little cur has to say.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter 25: Choices

  Exiting the drop pod behind the other centurions, Danny stepped out into the open confines of a Kurgorian warbird and looked around. In terms of layout, the place was almost identical to the Axius with its shadowy corridors, cavernous walls, and webbed panels of flesh, steel, and sinew. It gave him the creeps.

  Danny drew back when a trio of tendrils slithered and sparked to life within the power conduit beside him. Man, Hamish and Lee would be freaking out right now.

  There was a terminal nearby. Danny wobbled that way and used his translated HUD to access the interface. As expected, the warbird was in transit to Alystier with the rest of the Kamuir’s convoy—estimated time of arrival seven hours and ten minutes. Nice—very doable.

  Danny exited the back of the bay into the corridor. A crowd was there—officers with red skin and black garb mostly—and he kept his head down so as to not draw attention to himself. Gotta find a place to hole up.

  Again thinking about his time on the Axius, Danny
remembered seeing a small storage room for parts just off from main engineering. I hope your people’s ship designs are as uniform as your other tech. Checking his HUD, he found the engineering section six levels down—just like before—and headed that way.

  Danny lucked out. Upon reaching engineering, he found the storage room right where it was supposed to be. He shuffled in, still hampered by the native juice, and picked one of the bins toward the back to hide in.

  Once inside, Danny closed the lid overhead and dialed back his oxygen for the voyage to Alystier. That required him to stay still—an act which, subsequently, also gave him time to think. Danny wasn’t a fan. He didn’t like where his mind typically went in times like these to say nothing of the images it conjured—memories of his mom, frail and confused, lying sick in her hospital bed and aloof to the world; memories of his father walking out on them. Or worse, memories of eyes bluer than the Atlantic dimming beneath a curtain of red hair as thick gobs of crimson streamed like rain over skin of porcelain white.

  Danny’s breathing intensified, and he fought to rein it in with thoughts of Lee and the others. Wherever they were at the moment, they were probably pissed with him for leaving again. But at least this time they knew he was alive.

  Danny remembered his vow to contact them when he got the chance. He owed them that much. Besides, it wasn’t as if his mission and theirs weren’t intertwined. In the end, both roads led to Masterson, but the ASC’s ended with a trial while Danny’s ended with the chancellor in a box. For him, nothing else would do, and after ten long months of working toward that end, Danny was thrilled to feel it almost at hand.

  I’m gonna get him, baby. I’m gonna make that son of a bitch pay for what he did to you. Danny reclined against the bin wall, exhaled, and closed his eyes. Meanwhile the low, even hum of the engine core sang its lullaby.