Masterson studied his opponent with a blend of triumph and pity. Arrogant fool. You’re still operating under the false assumption that you’re in control of this situation. How predictably sad.
“I’m still waiting for your answer, Alec,” the alien chided.
Masterson straightened. “I require no such acknowledgement or authorization from your council or any other. I make this change solely of my own volition and my ability to blow your ships from the stars should they resist.”
The pralah’s elongated head fell back as he laughed. “Well now, that would be an interesting trick. Am I to presume, then, that you plan on using the hybrids to carry this out? The hybrids, I’d add, that we gave you?”
“Among others, yes.”
The ceda cleared his throat.
“Well then, Alec.” Kai-Ool folded his arms, red lips parting to a razor-white smile. “Let’s see you try.”
Masterson raised a slow palm to show his intentions then pulled the handheld comm unit from inside his uniform jacket. He put it to his mouth and keyed the mic. “Colonel Reirdon. You may proceed when ready.”
All eyes turned to the Vanxus forward viewport as the Alystierian flagship, Kamuir, released from its fuel-station mooring clamps and reversed course toward the warbirds Tarxus and Centov.
“Senior Pralah, sir?” Jahara asked from his station, voice quivering with the slightest unease. “The pralah of the Tarxus wishes to know your orders.”
Kai-Ool’s golden eyes cut to slits at Masterson. “Instruct the Tarxus pralah to raise all defenses then wait for the Kamuir to finish her quaint little demonstration. Once it’s done, he has my permission to annihilate her.”
Masterson didn’t budge.
“Message relayed,” Jahara said.
The Kamuir glided at a leisurely pace toward the two vessels. But once she reached them, she didn’t engage at all. Instead, she moved right past them and straight into a lunar orbit of Alystier’s second moon. There she held.
“Kamuir is out of range, Sire,” Reirdon reported through the comm speaker.
“Out of range for what?” Kai-Ool scoffed.
Masterson grinned once more and keyed the mic. “Execute.”
A spectacular energy blast rippled through space, turning the great war machine that’d just been the Tarxus into a ravaged hulk of metasteel and debris.
Kai-Ool snapped back to Masterson. “How did you—”
“Again,” Masterson said.
A second blast, and the Centov was gone.
“Agai—”
“Wait!” Kai-Ool threw up his hands. “Just wait.”
Satisfied that he’d made his point, Masterson released his thumb from the mic key and lowered the comm to his side.
“How is this possible?” Kai-Ool was slack-jawed.
Masterson rolled his eyes. “Don’t act so surprised, Pralah. After all, wasn’t this your strategy—to wait out the war and let our forces demolish the Aurans for you, only to have our own ships used against us?”
Out of the corner of his eye, Masterson saw Jahara make a subtle move at his station.
“Do it, and every Kurgorian ship in the system dies.”
The ceda stood down.
Kai-Ool rubbed the scales of his face. “How did you find it?”
“You mean the auto-destruct algorithm you embedded in the hybrids’ base code?” Masterson dismissed the query with a wave. “That’s not important. What is important, Pralah, is that once my people did find it, they were able to rewrite it for our own purposes. What surprises me was the ease with which we were able to shunt said algorithm back through your own battle network. Now, every ship in your fleet—and its crew—is either mine or dead.” Masterson wiped his hands and sighed. “Not bad for a pack of mindless apes, wouldn’t you say?”
The alien commander’s gaze darted around the CIC from one stunned officer to another, then fixed on Masterson. “What do you want?”
Masterson could’ve never fathomed the satisfaction such a simple request would bring him. He pointed to the ground. “Kneel.”
Kai-Ool’s eyes bulged. “You can’t be serious.”
“Kneel!” Masterson roared. “Or so help me gods, Clayton Zier will look like a saint compared to what I’ll do to you.”
Apparently resigned to the fact that he had no choice, the Kurgorian senior pralah swallowed what remained of his pride and stepped forward. “Before this ends,” he whispered from a knee, “your world will suffer the same fate as that of your kinsmen on Aura. The High Council will see to that when they hear of this. You will all burn.”
Masterson leaned in. “I know about level twenty-six.”
The alien commander’s expression morphed to one of pure fright. It was the last one he would ever wear.
A loud shing rang out, followed by a hard thawk, then the thick, syrupy splat of something wet and heavy thudding to the deck. A collective gasp bristled through the chamber.
As it should be. Masterson allowed himself a moment to drink in the fear then sheathed his saber and picked up Kai-Ool’s head by the scalp. He presented it to the officers then hurled it toward them. “Anyone else have a question?”
Jahara stared down at his commander’s face, forever frozen in bug-eyed horror. “No.”
“Good.” Masterson approached the Vanxus command chair and sat down. “Now that we have that established, gentlemen, we have an invasion to prep for. Ceda Jahara.”
The alien officer didn’t look up.
“Ceda Jahara,” Masterson spat.
This time he did.
“I’d like you to contact every ship in your fleet and alert them to the change in command. After that, alert your crew that I’ll be bringing some of my own people onboard to assist with operations.”
The Kurgorian shot Masterson a vengeful look but complied nonetheless.
“Oh, one other thing.” Masterson put an elbow on his chair arm. “Seeing as how the Vanxus will now fall under my command, effectively becoming the empire’s new flagship, I feel it only appropriate that her intra-atmosphere be conducive to my needs, not yours. As such, please inform the others aboard that I’ll be adapting the ship’s environment to that end.”
Jahara’s mouth fell open. “But what about us? How will we breathe?”
Masterson pulled a second mask from his coat and tossed it. The mask skidded to the ceda’s feet. “Wear a collar, as you deserve. Now, get to work.”
* * * * *
Chapter 33: Turn
Lee entered the Praetorian’s briefing room to find Katahl, Wylon, Zier, and Wyatt already waiting along with Briggs, which struck him as odd. He threw the former Alystierian XO a nod on his way in. “Reegan says we heard from Danny. What do we know?”
“He’s on Alystier,” Briggs said. “Somehow he managed to skirt the empire’s forces on Thawnose and get to Eurial. From there, he paid a visit to the home of one Roan Tully.”
“The minister from Ledington Province?” Lee wrinkled his nose. “What on Earth does Danny want with a parliament politician?”
Briggs raised a shoulder. “Don’t ask me how, but your boy managed to turn him.”
“They sent us this.” Wylon slid a tablet across the table to Lee.
On the display was the paused image of a man Lee didn’t recognize. He tapped the play button. Holy…“Is this what I think it is?”
All five men nodded.
“Has it been authenticated?” Lee asked.
“We have an intelligence team checking the spectral date and buoy stamps now,” Katahl said. “With any luck, we’ll know if they’re authentic within the hour. As it stands, though, we have no reason to believe they’re not.”
Lee shut his eyes and thought hard. “If this gets out, it could—”
“Change everything?” Zier folded his arms. “On that, Captain Summerston, we are in full agreement.”
Lee rubbed his hands together. “Okay, then. I reckon the only question now is, assumin’ this is real, how do we
get it to the masses? Last I checked, Masterson is still blockin’ all transmissions into Alystierian space that don’t originate from an imperial IDC, so how do we get this in front of anyone but our own people?”
“Is this something Danny could do from the ground on Alystier?” Wylon asked.
Katahl shook his head. “With Tully’s help, he might be able to crack their public net, but that network is so damned regulated that it would be more likely to get pulled before it ever saw the light of day. Even if it did get out, Masterson would block it from reaching his invasion force, and frankly, that’s where we need this most right now.”
Briggs scratched his chin, eyes fixed on the star chart before them. “I might be able to help with that.”
Everyone turned to the former Alystierian XO, who added, “We take the Kamuir.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Even Katahl was caught off guard.
“You need this broadcast through an imperial IDC, right? Give me a team, and I’ll get it for you.”
Katahl’s silvery brows furrowed. “Captain Briggs, I appreciate everything you’ve done for us since your arrival here with Chancellor Zier. Really, I do. But if you think I’m prepared to cut you loose—with several of my own people in tow, no less—on a mission this critical, you’re sorely mistaken. I’m sorry.”
Briggs rolled his eyes. “Listen, Admiral, I get it. You don’t want an ex-gray running an op with people under your command. It makes sense, and, to be fair, I’d feel the same way were I in your shoes. But the fact is, I’m your only play here. You need that IDC to broadcast this. Plus, even if you were able to succeed in doing that some other way, there’s no way it dissuades Colonel Reirdon from coming after you. That guy’s a Masterson lackey if there ever was one, and believe me when I say he’ll happily lay down his life, and those of his crew, for the chancellor’s cause, evidence be damned.”
Zier nodded. “Captain Briggs is correct on that count. Reirdon is a true Masterson disciple in every sense of the word.”
“Turn the Kamuir, and you turn the fleet. It’s as simple as that,” Briggs said. “Think about it, Admiral. What would it do to your people were this the Praetorian we were talking about? She’s your flagship, the symbol of everything the ASC stands for. The Kamuir is no different. Turn her, and the other commanders will fall in line.”
Wylon ran his fingers through his hair. “Okay, everyone slow down for a minute. Let’s just say for the sake of discussion, Captain Briggs, that we were prepared to let you do this. How would you get aboard without being detected?”
Briggs pointed to the far-right side of the chart, which represented the back end of Aura’s solar system. “LORASS calculates that Masterson’s fleet will exit hyperspace and enter the system here, right?”
Katahl nodded. “Yes, but that could change between now and then.”
“It won’t,” Briggs said. “Believe me; the chancellor is nothing if not a showman. He’ll want to make a spectacle out of this, which means making an entrance. He’ll enter here, where everyone can see him, then he’ll advance to his final position.”
“Point taken,” Wylon said. “Go on.”
Briggs slid his finger up the grid to the block of space between Aura and the gas giant behind it.
A cloud of tiny dots peppered the region, which Lee recognized as the Eno asteroid belt.
“We do it from here.” Briggs pointed to the belt. “I’ll need a small ship—one of your civilian maintenance pods, maybe—plus weapons, enviro-suits for my team, and runabout packs for all of us with at least three reload canisters each. I’ll handle the logistics from there.”
Katahl glanced up at Wyatt. “Can you handle that?”
“It’s done,” Wyatt said.
“And your team?” Lee asked.
“I can use Ovies,” Briggs said. “I’ve known the man for years. He’s an imperial loyalist, yes, but he’s no fool. He knows what Masterson is doing is wrong, and he wants it stopped. Plus he knows the Kamuir’s layout about as well as I do. I can use that.”
Wylon shook his head. “I hear what you’re saying, Captain, but the fact remains that I don’t know this man, nor do I have any reason to trust him. You, I trust, so you can go. But not Ovies. He stays here under guard.”
“But sir, I—”
“My apologies, Captain Briggs,” Zier said, “but as a leader myself, I tend to empathize with President Wylon’s position here. He’s had nearly a year to get to know us. Not so with the commander. Ovies will have his time to prove his allegiances, but that time is not today. I, on the other hand, must insist on joining your team.”
Briggs’ eyes rolled to the ceiling. “Sir, I really don’t think—”
“That wasn’t even remotely a request, Captain.” Zier knit his arms. “I’m going, provided of course that President Wylon agrees.”
Wylon raised his hands. “These are your people and your ships, Chancellor. If you want to go, I won’t stand in your way.”
Zier stood up straight. “It’s decided, then.”
Looks like you were right, Danny. The old codger really does have stones. Lee was impressed.
Briggs’ glare softened somewhat, but that was about it. “Fine. Once we’ve secured the Kamuir’s bridge, Chancellor, I need you at the helm while I take tactical.”
“Understood,” Zier said. “What else do you require in the way of personnel?”
“In addition to the two of us, I’ll need three more people,” Briggs said, “two of them guns to watch our backs while the chancellor and I operate inside.”
“Fair enough,” Katahl said. “And the third?”
“A code breaker,” Briggs said, “and a damn good one, too. Somebody who doesn’t rattle easily and works fast under pressure.”
Lee’s gut twisted.
“Chief?” Katahl turned to Wyatt. “You’ve got coding experience, right? Is that something you could do?”
Wyatt’s expression said no. “Sorry, Admiral. I can program well enough to facilitate my needs in engineering, but breaking someone else’s is an art all its own.”
“What about Ovies?” Lee piped up.
“We’ve been over this, Captain,” Wylon said.
“I know, Mr. President,” Lee said. “But the fact remains that Ovies was the Kamuir’s XO all of eighteen hours ago. If it’s access you need, wouldn’t he know the command codes?”
Briggs shook his head. “Reirdon may be a brute, but Masterson’s not. After what happened with me and the chancellor, you can bet he’s already had the colonel change every command code in the system on account of Ovies’ disappearance.” Briggs tapped the chart for emphasis. “I can get us to the door, gentlemen, and I can get us to the bridge once we’re through it. But cracking the outer hatch and seizing control of the ship’s operations is entirely on someone else. Without that person, this whole plan is shot, which means your broadcast goes nowhere.”
Lee stood down. Maybe they’ll send somebody from Auran central intelligence.
“I’m sorry, gentlemen, but this is a lot of variables.” Wylon stood up straight, his face riddled with exhaustion and stress. “And by a lot, I mean far too many. Captain Briggs, I can appreciate what you and the chancellor are proposing with this plan, to say nothing of the bravery it’ll require of you to do it. But if you fail, my people won’t last an hour in this fight, and that’s probably a generous estimate.”
Zier stared at the table as if collecting his thoughts. “Rick, I empathize with your position. Really, I do. But if there is ever to be reconciliation between our two peoples, it has to begin with a gesture of trust. At the risk of being overly bold—” he patted his chest, “—I showed you that trust when I elected to come here ten months ago. Now, my friend, the time has come for you to reciprocate. Please…let us do this.”
Wylon aimed a pensive stare at the table and didn’t speak.
Lee felt for the guy. On the one hand, a fleet of ships he knew he couldn’t beat was bearing down on him with the sole inte
nt of killing everyone he cared about. On the other, the very same man who’d started this fight to begin with was pleading with him for the chance to stop it all from happening.
To trust, or not to trust, that is the question.
Still, Lee’s gut told him Zier was sincere, and he was pretty sure Wylon’s told him the same.
“All right.” The president traded uneasy looks with Katahl. “Captain Briggs, Chancellor Zier, you have a go. Report to the quartermaster on deck fourteen, and get whatever you need. After that, head to the flight deck. I’ll meet you there with the rest of your team.”
“Copy that,” Briggs said. Then, in a surprise move even Lee hadn’t seen coming, the Alystierian captain turned to the ASC Admiral and the Auran president and snapped a picturesque salute. “Thank you, sirs. We won’t let you down.”
Once the two men had exited the briefing room, Lee turned back to Katahl and Wylon. “Thank you, sirs, for clueing me in on this. I noticed that Hastings, Layla, and the other pilots weren’t here.”
“They’ll all be brought up to speed shortly,” Katahl said. “This was about Danny. You had a right to know.”
Lee nodded, grateful. “All right, then. Where do y’all need me?”
“As always, Captain Summerston, with your people,” Wylon said. “Report back to the Kennox and get them ready. Per Ovies’ timeline, the grays should be set to launch in the next two hours, which puts them here in about nine. After that, things are going to get very interesting.”
“Understood,” Lee said.
“Chief.” Katahl handed Wyatt what looked like a requisitions form. “I need ten of your people to transfer over to the Triton on a temporary detail.”
“The Triton?” Wyatt’s look turned quizzical. “I didn’t know they’d gotten her back on her feet after Thawnose. She took a hell of a beating, sir.”
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