Jenkins could say nothing beyond clicking his mandibles nervously.
Blue stroked his chitinous head. “Relax, Jenkins. I have a plan.”
“Yes, ma’am. That’s what I was afraid of.”
* * * * *
Chapter 38
“Before you begin,” said Jenkins, “I must update you both with my latest intelligence on the Condottieri. Our every move is observed, and not just by the Condottieri, but Exuberance’s crew too. Condottieri are permitted to move and act aboard this ship in ways that make me believe they’ve bribed Captain Klagg. And Mr. Sinclair is correct to assume the Condottieri are in league with the Veetanho. The interdiction swarms were deployed from the Veetanho battlecruiser Infinite Destruction, which can generate its own hyperspace portal. There are five Veetanho escort frigates clamped to the Exuberance, too. We’re outgunned, captains. We always were.”
He indicated Sinclair with his antennae. “If you move the Arashi Nova, our enemies will kill everyone aboard, take the Raknar, and flee.”
“My pals will have something to say about that when we rendezvous,” said Sinclair.
“Perhaps,” said Jenkins, “if they’re fast. And I can only brief you on the Veetanho forces and allies that I am aware of. They appear extremely confident. I suspect further hidden assets.”
“Excellent!” Blue beamed at the other two. Jenkins regarded her blankly. The way Sinclair looked at her said he also thought she was mad as a box of elSha on crystal meth. She grinned. “Let the Veetanho and their brown-nosing Condottieri win. They think they deserve to, so let ’em!”
“You missed a wee bit there,” said Sinclair. “The part where you make sense.”
“It’s simple, Jamie. We let them take the Nova and kill everyone aboard. But only after we’ve sneaked the Raknar and your Sinclair’s Hooligans over to our ship.”
“If Jenkins is right,” said Sinclair, “they have Klagg in their pocket, and moving the Raknar is a scenario they will have planned for. It’s not far from Bay 82 to Bay 79, but we can hardly break up the Raknar and sneak them across concealed in our trouser legs.”
He stopped, intrigued by the change in Jenkins. The Jeha’s drooping antennae were now rustling erect, like corn on the breeze.
“What’s up with yon beastie?”
“We evacuate the Nova from the outside under cover of hyperspace.”
“You mean while we’re in hyperspace?” asked Sinclair.
Jenkins clicked his mandibles in assent.
“Inside hyperspace? You know, the pure white radge? The infinite nothing, where none of my equipment works reliably, and sane people who stare into the whiteness wind up as mad as your boss? And if we touch the discontinuity bubble around the Exuberance and her transit-riding passengers…then…then…that’s how you got into my ship! You scurried around on your superfluity of legs while decent folk had shut their blinds on the white.”
The Jeha’s antenna drooped.
“It’s okay,” Blue reassured him. “You’re right, Sinclair. Within certain parameters, Jeha can operate in hyperspace. The Exuberance’s sensors and that interdiction swarm can’t. Jenkins? Why look so glum? I haven’t just blown your species’ greatest secret, have I?”
“It’s not that, ma’am. It’s true that we could upscale the infiltration operation. After transition, we could glue a pressurized bubble to the hull of the Exuberance and evacuate the Nova’s crew and key cargo to our ship. We would push perilously close to the discontinuity bubble, but I believe we could succeed.”
“Tell me what won’t work,” said Sinclair.
“Zarbi and I are young and efficient, but we’re only two individuals. We’d only be partway through our operations before we lost the cover of hyperspace and were observed.”
“Jenkins?”
“Ma’am?”
“You’ve made contact with many Jeha on the Exuberance.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“How many Jeha did you contact?”
“I spoke to 871 out of an estimated onboard total of 1392.”
“And how many of those 871 were friendly?”
“870.”
“I gotta ask,” said Sinclair. “What’s the story behind the one who got away?”
Jenkins opened his mandibles wide and presented them aggressively to the rude human. “If you must know, it was a failed mating attempt. The amorous lady in question didn’t take kindly to my rebuff, and I suffered minor damage to some of my motor limbs as I withdrew.”
“Oh, boy.” Sinclair laughed. “Seems to me she got under your exoskeleton.”
“The business was most regrettable. I was in disguise. It wasn’t really me who had aroused her, so it would have been dishonorable to…proceed.”
“Poor you,” said Blue. “I can see her memory troubles you, but you’re young, resourceful, and witty. The healthy credit balance on your Yack will warp spacetime enough to attract shallow people to your taste. Most importantly, you work for me, not your hormones. Forget her and focus on the matter at hand.”
“The serrations on her mandibles were many and sharp,” said Jenkins. He let out a long snake-like hiss. “Her carapace carried such a luster.”
Blue lowered herself onto her elbows to look Jenkins in the face. “It’s tough,” she said, “but we must all learn to keep it in our pants during a contract.”
“Indeed, ma’am.”
“Even captains,” said Sinclair, giving Blue a highly-inappropriate wink.
“Those 870,” she said hurriedly, “how many would want to work a one-week EVA engineering contract during the next period in hyperspace?”
Jenkins swayed from side to side as he thought. “I don’t think we should ask the crew members of the Exuberance,” he replied, “because that news would leak to the Condottieri. But they number less than a hundred of my total. As for the rest…Ma’am, it’s difficult for you to understand, being merely human, but to be in hyperspace for a Jeha is…it wouldn’t be like offering them a job in vacuum.”
“Explain more clearly.”
“Ma’am, hyperspace is beautiful. To be there is a rare privilege. Not only would you have an enthusiastic team of Jeha engineers but,” – he rose up on his couch and slammed his head down onto the table like a striking viper – “they’d pay you for the privilege.”
* * * * *
Chapter 39
Blue considered Sergeant Xavier Albali to have a bearish quality. Beard, hair, and eyebrows were all dark and shaggy; his shoulders were broad, and beneath his uniform were scars left by a Besquith’s claws that resembled the attention of a grizzly bear. On the sly, he was also bookish, but Albali preferred to present himself as the gruff Latin bear.
Not so today. The man standing at attention in her cabin, boots clamped to the charged zone, had looked more like a fluffy teddy bear as he’d delivered his report.
Venix wriggled in his plush harness set into the port bulkhead and began the questions. “You appear very sure there are unidentified persons aboard the ship, hiding in the restricted area.” The Zuparti curled up his whiskers. “Have you seen them with your own eyes?”
“No, sir.”
“Yet you think this important enough to bring to the attention of the senior ship’s officers. What is the source of your information?”
“I’d rather not say.” The teddy bear went pale with worry. “Rumors are like ghosts, sir. Try to grab them firmly, and they dissipate. Doesn’t mean they aren’t real. Given the nature of the matter, I thought it best to pass it high up the chain rather than ask too many questions.”
“A good decision,” said Venix. Albali relaxed a little. “Tell me, though, do the members of your squad make a habit of bypassing ship security, disobeying clear instructions, and indulging in personal espionage just for the fun of it?”
Albali stopped breathing for a few seconds. When he answered, his voice sounded very small. “If there were any who did, sir, they sure as hell don’t now.”
Branco. I
t was obvious who’d passed the information to Albali. What she hadn’t known was that it would be obvious to her XO too. A grin caressed her face. Sun had been slumping around like a heartbroken teenager, which meant the former spy she’d obsessed over might just be shifting from liability to key asset. He’d need to be tamed, of course. She licked her lips at the prospect.
She dismissed Albali, who saluted and fled. Venix was more interesting. What’s his game?
She unclipped from the bulkhead. As she floated down to the spot where Albali had stood, Venix surprised her by asking first. “How much do you know, Captain?”
“That depends, Commander. How much do you know?” Blue stared directly at the Zuparti, an action regarded as highly aggressive by his species. Venix stared back. The XO could keep this up for hours.
“I do know,” she said carefully, “that you wouldn’t normally trouble yourself with a concern raised by a marine sergeant. You requested to hear Albali’s report in person because you already knew about these hidden persons on our ship.”
Without breaking his stare, Venix flicked his whiskers in amusement. “The galaxy is filled with coincidence. I myself was wondering why the most senior officer in the company chose to hear a squad leader’s report not only directly, but in her cabin, with all privacy shielding set to maximum – including some forms of concealment that don’t appear in the electrical and cyber schema for this compartment. How much do you know, Captain?”
She shrugged and looked away, unwilling to keep these secrets any longer. Maybe a little gossip could smoke them out?
“Commander Venix, I don’t know nearly enough about who I work for and why I’m doing so. Our departure from Tau-Rietzke was delayed because Gloriana insisted we wait for her to load a contingency in case my teams failed. Now I learn our flight characteristics are compromised because I appear to be carrying a fully-equipped mercenary unit. We both know you’re here to spy on me for Gloriana. When you report this exchange, please note my wide eyes and lips pulled back to reveal teeth. It’s the human pissed-off response.”
“Duly noted, Captain.”
“Who are they, Venix? What the hell kind of contingency is it that’ll succeed where ten squads of experienced mercenaries will fail?”
“How secure is your privacy shield?”
“The very best that money can buy.”
The Zuparti’s snout crumpled and drooped while he weighed his options.
“I believe you’re correct,” he eventually said.
“And they’re aquatic, right? Kubar Park is a coastal base. Too many contracts have been carried out near water for it to be a coincidence.”
“I suspect they’re amphibian. Basing themselves underwater assists in keeping out of sight of air-breathing species.”
“Who are they, Venix? Whose coin have we taken?”
“Their name isn’t available to any of our translator pendants.”
Fear chilled Blue for the first time. Ever since formal contact with the Union, the conspiracy theorists had been saying the Information Guild had given humans restricted services – filtered GalNet, translators purged of dangerous concepts, and worse. She thought the jury was out on that, but even the most barking conspiracists hadn’t suggested the same withholding of information applied to an established race such as the Zuparti. This ran deep.
“I see,” said Blue. “We shall call them Rietzkens.”
“Tau-Rietkze is not their home world.”
“I don’t care. I’m the boss and I’m calling them Rietzkens. What can you tell me that’ll keep us alive?”
Venix looked at her for a long while before answering. “They have deep and ancient connections to the guilds, the Mercenary Guild in particular. I base all this on little more than conjecture and clues, but I suspect, in terms of the history of your species, that the Rietzkens’ position within the Union is akin to a powerful political or royal dynasty on Earth. Currently out of favor, their hold onto the levers of power usurped by rivals, nonetheless they remain rich and connected while they scheme their return to greatness.”
Blue nodded. That made a lot of sense. “Gloriana has a serious beef with the Veetanho. What if that was more than personal? What if the Veetanho are their…what’s that fancy word you used – usurpers.”
“I hope you’re wrong, Captain Blue. If not, then this intervention by the Veetanho in the affairs of Earth – what Sinclair wishes you to think of as a war – may trigger a counter move by the Rietzkens.”
“Which would mean big combat contracts for us.”
“Indeed.”
“And result in the deaths of many aboard this ship.”
“Also true,” said the Zuparti. “Which is why I’ve shared my suspicions. If you lead us to war, Captain, the company will follow you, assuming the pay is right. The moment of choice may come upon you urgently and uninvited, and I don’t believe you’re ready to make it.”
She looked on him anew. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you this, Venix, but you make an excellent XO. I’m proud and lucky to have you by my side.”
To Blue’s astonishment, Venix smiled. She’d never realized Zuparti could.
* * * * *
Chapter 40
“Leave me,” Venix told his escort.
“Yes, sir. Good luck,” said the security escort leader, Sergeant Hrrn.
He stepped aside to allow the Midnight Sun’s XO to proceed along the final stretch of the Exuberance’s passageway, as did the other three Zuul in the escort detachment.
But the largest member followed Venix into the bar.
“Hey,” called Hrrn. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I want to see what’s in the holes,” Betty replied, not slowing.
“What do you expect to find?” Hrrn sneered. “A brain?”
The Tortantula halted with extreme menace, blinking several rear-facing eyes at the Zuul sergeant. “No. I have plenty enough brain. I’m hungry. Things that live in holes are good to eat. Anyone with a good brain knows that.”
“Did you not hear Commander Venix order us to leave him?”
“But…!” Betty turned to the Zuparti officer and bared her fangs. “I’d never disobey an order, Commander. I was going to watch which hole you went into and leave you alone. I’d hunt in a different one. No one said anything about staying outside.”
“I understand, Trooper,” said Venix, trying hard to remind himself that baring fangs without snapping them through your body and releasing neurotoxins was the closest Tortantulas came to a submissive posture. Which wasn’t close at all. “Your Zuul comrades need you to protect them while I’m gone.”
“But…the things in the holes—”
“The people in the holes have things we need to trade for.”
“Oh,” said the Tortantula, opening her mouth so wide that she started to bleed on one side. She spoke what might have been an apology, but with her mouth gaping, Venix’s translator pendant couldn’t understand a word.
Betty snapped her jaws shut, saluted with several limbs, and strode back to Sergeant Hrrn. “It all makes perfect sense,” she grumbled, “when it’s explained properly.”
Venix silently wished the sergeant good luck with the irritated Tortantula and pushed on past the pressure threshold and into the bar.
Immediately, he was hit by earthy odors of loam and damp tree roots. The bar was identified by scent, not by words, but if it catered to humans, it might have been called the Riverside Burrow.
Deck 41 of the Exuberance was largely given over to entertainment venues, and this one, far amidships, catered primarily to smaller species.
Past the pressure threshold that kept the moist, scent-laden air within, the clinical metal of the ship’s passageways became a rough, dark, circular tunnel that crisscrossed, curved, and doubled back on itself, lined all the way with snug offshoots where patrons could eat and drink in seclusion.
Betty would have had a wild time here, puffing out her upper body to fill the tunnel so s
he could use her ten legs to push her along at speed, fangs first.
Venix was on a hunt himself, but not for food. He put his wrist slate to his nose and took a deep sniff of the scent ID the device released from its pores.
The artificial scent lacked high and low notes and tasted of metal and plastic. It made the back of his throat pucker in distaste, but it was enough for him to detect the very real scent of his target here in the bar.
Venix curled his lips. Target acquired!
“I’ve been expecting you,” Captain Krnn’Kch told him when Venix cornered him a short while later.
“I very much doubt it,” Venix replied, curling into the nook alongside the Zuul starship captain.
“The worst of it is,” said Krnn’Kch, taking a swig from his drink, “that I nearly did come up with the money. Smuggled ancient artifacts on the last trip. Managed to get them off Koranto-Prime and through orbital security. Two jumps later and making for our rendezvous around an outer planet, we were beset by pirates. So close. A laser blast depressurized the hold. We got away with our lives, but the cargo was ruined. Now my debts are even deeper.”
“Good,” said Venix.
Krnn’Kch looked up from his pot of liquor. The Zuul free trader captain frowned – a gesture his species shared with humans. “Joke’s on you, Zuparti. Soon as I clamped onto the Exuberance, I fired my crew. Every last one. You can’t enslave them with an indenture service term to pay off my debt, because they’re legally discharged.”
“Captain Krnn’Kch. I don’t want your crew. I don’t want you. I want your ship.”
“My ship?” Krnn’Kch gave a low howl. “Thanks to those pirates, the main hold is open to vacuum. The plasma torch is good for another ten runs – maybe twenty, if you like to gamble with your life. Then the plasma containment field will fail. It’s a unique craft, but that means major repairs are a nightmare to arrange, and their costs? Who can tell what they might be, other than they’re always expensive? If I could have sold my ship to pay your debt, I would have done so.”
The Midnight Sun (The Omega War Book 2) Page 14
