Planet Killer (Star Kingdom Book 6)

by Lindsay Buroker

  “You’ll remain with Captain Ishii and rendezvous with my ship, the Chivalrous. Then you’ll transfer over with any equipment and materials you brought along related to your work.”

  Kim grew still, as if she already knew what Jorg would ask her to do. An inkling also formed in Casmir’s mind.

  “To what use will I be putting them?” she asked when Jorg didn’t explain.

  “Royal Intelligence has uncovered a rumor that Prince Dubashi is having a deadly bioweapon made to unleash on the Kingdom. Perhaps even our home world of Odin. I want you to make something even better that we can use against him first. He’s reputedly cowering in this system while his forces risk themselves on our gate. He and his underlings should be an easy target.”

  “Bioweapon,” Kim breathed, the word barely audible.

  Casmir read the horror on her face, and the implications dawned on him. She was being asked to make something that could murder people far more widely and effectively than his crushers. It could be genocide, not just murder.

  She raised her voice to say, “That isn’t my area of expertise, Your Highness. Sayona Station in System Cerberus would be the natural place to shop for such a thing.”

  “We don’t have time to traipse all over the Twelve Systems collecting vials,” Jorg said. “We have to recruit ships and return as soon as possible. You will come to the Chivalrous and put your skills into making something useful, Scholar Sato.” His portion of the display winked out, the channel closing.

  Casmir glowered at the dark screen, resenting the insinuation that Kim’s current work wasn’t useful. Half of the soldiers in the Kingdom Space Fleet had some of her radiation-absorbing bacteria swimming around in their systems, and the other half wished they did. Or—his heart almost stopped—was it possible Jorg had been insinuating the bee project? He couldn’t know about that, could he? Would Oku have told him? It was hard to imagine the pompous prince as Oku’s confidant, even if he was her brother.

  “I guess the meeting has concluded,” one of the captains said dryly.

  The other faces disappeared one after the other.

  “Pack your gear, Dabrowski,” Ishii said. “I’ll delay Asger until you can get to the shuttle bay. He’s probably already prepared to go.”

  Casmir sighed. He’d been given an impossible task, but he knew Ishii didn’t have the power to override it.

  “Wait until Asger finds out we get to steal tons of metal and then somehow spend weeks in a manufacturing facility two levels down,” Casmir said, though he hadn’t pulled up a map of the station yet and didn’t know the layout. Maybe the manufacturing facility would be three levels down.

  “We?” Ishii said. “I think that’s your task.”

  “What’s his task?”

  “Picking up an axe and taking it back to Odin.”

  Casmir couldn’t keep from making a face. “Is it just me, or is my task slightly more onerous?”

  “Maybe slightly. Scholar Sato, it’ll be a few days before we rendezvous with the Chivalrous. We don’t have the facilities here for your new… project.” The pause was the only hint that Ishii might also not approve of the bioweapon scheme. “But feel free to consult with Dr. Sikou or any of my staff when you’re brainstorming. They’ve had training on reacting to and nullifying such threats. Just no tinkering while you’re on my ship.” Ishii grimaced, probably imagining some horrific bacteria escaping and eating his entire crew from the inside out.

  Kim shook her head and walked out without a word.

  Casmir hurried to catch up, hopping in the lift with her and holding open the doors for Zee.

  “I am going to have a mate,” he announced.

  “A hundred of them, if Jorg has his way. Have you ever aspired to have your own harem?”

  “Crushers have no sexual function. I merely wish to converse with sapient beings while you sleep and are unavailable for discourse.”

  Kim leaned forward, gripping her knees.

  “Are you all right?” Casmir reached for her shoulder but caught himself, remembering her no-touching preference.

  “This is a nightmare, Casmir.”

  “The thought of Zee with a harem?”

  She was too distressed to shoot him the glare the comment deserved.

  “Sorry,” Casmir said. “I know. The idea of a bioweapon is even more horrific than that of an army of crushers in Jorg’s hands.”

  “I can’t make something like that. I can punch or kick someone who’s trying to hurt a friend, but I can’t make some killer weapon that could be used to mass slay people just because some noble idiot who inherited his position ordered me to. He probably doesn’t even understand what he’s requesting.”

  “I know this will rankle you, but I suggest feigning incompetence and making him a nice intestinal bacteria to increase motility. Exponentially.”

  This time, he got the scathing look.

  They reached their deck, but Casmir hit the button to keep the doors from opening.

  “Are you going to feign incompetence?” Kim asked. “Or are you going to make him evil murdering robots?”

  “A crusher is not evil,” Zee pointed out. “He obeys the commands of those he was programmed to obey. A crusher can be a noble construct, working to combat evil in the universe.”

  “Which is why, if I am somehow capable of completing this impossible task that Jorg has given me…” Casmir glanced at the walls, aware that some monitoring device might be built into the lift. I’ll program them to obey me, he finished, silently sending the message to Kim’s chip. Not Jorg.

  Yeah, but you have to obey Jorg, Kim replied promptly. All you’re doing is creating a chain of command.

  Not necessarily. You’ve seen how faithfully I obey Jager. Casmir smiled.

  Which is probably going to get you killed and your family locked up.

  Casmir lost his smile. I’m hoping that mitigating circumstances will allow me to wiggle out of that fate. Somehow.

  I doubt the planet being at war is going to make him forget that he has four gate pieces instead of five hundred. And that he’s not in control of Tiamat Station with a foothold in System Hydra.

  We’ll see. I’m hoping to think of something inspired. Such as a way that he could single-handedly save the Kingdom from its attackers and return home a triumphant hero?

  His mouth twisted. Even if he were Rache, with all of his money, resources, and enhanced genes, Casmir doubted he could manage that. In the comic books, triumphant heroes never collapsed from medical conditions while deploying their masterful plans.

  I don’t know if I can feign that much ineptitude, Casmir. It’s not hard to make a biological weapon capable of killing people. Killing people is depressingly easy. An untrained thug with a gun can blow away lives like this— Kim snapped her fingers, the harsh sound filling the small lift car.

  What if you just tell him no?

  A buzz sounded, someone trying to order the lift to another level. Casmir kept his finger mashed against the override.

  I don’t know. I’m afraid I’ll put my father and brothers in danger. Shit, Casmir. I never thought I’d have to worry about our government threatening our families to gain compliance. Is my imagination being overactive? Would Jager really do that?

  Casmir thought of his one meeting with the king, his meeting in the castle dungeon. I… don’t know. I’d like to think our government isn’t that vile, but the Senate is the only thing to hold the king in check, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he could do a lot without them knowing about it. Starting a war would need approval, but making people disappear… He spread his hand.

  Kim’s face grew wan, and he wished he’d reassured her that Jager wouldn’t harm her family. But he doubted it would have worked. Kim was as smart as he was and much better at thinking rationally. She couldn’t be soothed if she knew something was false.

  The door buzzed again.

  Kim sighed. “Open it.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  S
he shook her head and walked out. “I don’t know.”

  Come with me to Stardust Palace, Casmir sent silently after her.

  She glanced back.

  Don’t ask for permission. Just get some of your equipment and your gear and meet me at Asger’s shuttle. We’ll act first and ask for forgiveness later. When they realize where you went, we’ll say you saw that the laboratory facilities on the station would be far superior to anything Jorg has on his ship—that’s probably even true. Naturally, you assumed that Jorg would want you to work in the best place possible…

  Casmir and Zee stepped out of the lift, letting it zip away to another deck.

  Kim studied the wall. I think all that will do is make him suspicious of me for not asking permission first. At best, it’ll only buy a little time.

  Time is the most valuable commodity of all.

  4

  Dr. Yas Peshlakai approached the private dining room, which he’d never been invited to or even seen before, with trepidation tap-dancing in his stomach. Officially, this was the captain’s mess, located off the back of the Fedallah’s mess hall, but Rache always dined in his quarters. Yas had never seen anyone enter the usually locked door. It was dinnertime, but he struggled to imagine he’d received a genuine meal invitation.

  More likely, Rache had finally found the time to deal with Yas’s insubordination on that submarine he and Kim Sato had been waiting in on Xolas Moon. As he well knew, the pilot and corporal who had been left behind with them had reported Yas’s mutiny. No, not mutiny exactly. Yas wasn’t subordinate to either of them—as the ship’s chief doctor, he was outside of the chain of command and reported directly to Rache—but he highly doubted the captain wanted his doctor helping prisoners to knock out his men.

  Rache likely didn’t see Kim Sato as a prisoner exactly, but… given that Rache had only managed to snag a few pieces of the gate and not the whole thing, he might be in a dour mood and not inclined to overlook transgressions. He’d definitely been brusque with everyone all week as the Fedallah fled the Kingdom warships, made repairs, and flew through the gate to System Stymphalia. He’d been demanding all manner of training drills on top of the repair work and ordering many men to pull double shifts. Yas didn’t know if it was because Rache was irritated with everyone’s performance on the moon, or if he was about to lead them into something more dangerous than usual.

  Yas took a deep breath before waving at the sensor. To his surprise, the door opened to laughter.

  Chief Jess Khonsari, Rache’s first officer Commander Mendoza, and the intelligence officer Lieutenant Amergin sat around a big slate table with place settings for five. Two bottles of wine rested in the center with glasses already filled. Amergin was leaning back in his chair, already enjoying his, his broad-brimmed hat tipped back on his head, his cybernetic upgrades and half-metal face not affecting his taste buds. Mendoza, who ran the ship during the night shift, was a squat tank of a man with swarthy skin, a bald head, and a black waxed mustache grown far out to the sides with the ends arranged in artful curls.

  “You look surprised to see us, Doc,” Jess observed, lifting her wine glass, though she didn’t appear to have consumed any yet.

  Yas resisted the urge to remark on potential adverse reactions with alcohol and her steady painkiller trylochanix. He wanted to date her, not lecture her like a father—or a doctor. “I was expecting to be reprimanded. Possibly tortured.”

  “I don’t think the captain does that in the dining room.” Amergin slid a hand along the table. “People eat here, after all.”

  “Right,” Yas murmured and looked at the remaining seating options. He avoided the place setting at the head of the table, where Rache would presumably sit, and took the empty spot next to Jess. “What’s this about?”

  “The captain invited us to dine,” Jess said.

  “And discuss things, I reckon.” Amergin tilted his head back to drain his glass, the hat somehow staying in place.

  Mendoza nodded once. Yas had only spoken to the man a few times and always found him succinct. Apparently, he was smart and had a knack for space maneuvers and battle tactics, but he was another mercenary who avoided visits to sickbay unless it was to have a bullet removed or a limb reattached.

  “I admit I wasn’t expecting you, Doc,” Jess said. “Rache usually pulls in Commander Brick for meetings, but he’s from the Kingdom, and I think this might have to do with the little war the Kingdom is having—and whether we’re going to play a part.”

  She smiled at him, and Yas barely registered her words, instead admiring the curve of her lips. Ah, but the familiar pain lines at the corners of her mouth and eyes seemed deeper than ever. If the Fedallah docked anywhere with reputable medical facilities, Yas would suggest, as Kim had recommended, that Jess see a civilian doctor for an exam.

  “The question is which part,” came Rache’s voice from the doorway.

  He strode in wearing a black galaxy suit and his usual mask and hood. One of the ship’s two dedicated cooks came in after him, pushing a large hover tray full of cloche-covered plates. A few promising meaty smells wafted from them.

  Rache sat at the head of the table while the cook set cloches in front of everyone.

  Yas eyed his a little warily. Even after months of working with Rache, during which Yas had endured no terrible threats to his life or displays of overt sadism, he couldn’t help but think of his captain’s reputation and envision the roasted heads of Kingdom soldiers under the cloches, perhaps with apples stuffed in their mouths.

  Amergin rubbed his hands together and lifted his cloche without hesitation. “Pork chops and cinnamon apples? Now that’s a meal. And is that a bone? You got us real meat, boss? Not vat protein?”

  Half of the plate was filled with greens under some kind of nut and toasted bread crumble, but Amergin ignored those.

  “Real meat.” Rache leaned back in his chair, not touching his cloche yet.

  He would have had to take his mask off to eat, and even though Yas had seen under it, he didn’t know if anyone else here had.

  “What’s the occasion?” Amergin asked.

  “We’re going to have a discussion,” Rache said. “I thought I’d get you drunk first so I can get honest opinions.”

  Mendoza blinked slowly.

  Amergin only snorted and refilled his glass. “I’m amenable to that.”

  Jess plucked a green sprout off her plate and chewed on it.

  “As you know,” Rache said, “someone has engineered a war with the Kingdom, someone who put together the first round of an invasion and blockade fleet largely from his own resources but who is now hiring mercenaries for a second round.”

  “Someone, sir?” Amergin asked. “Are you being intentionally vague for a reason? It’s Prince Dubashi. Oh, he’s got a few other heads of Miners’ Union families helping out, but he’s the one that bought eighty percent of those shiny new ships harassing the Kingdom wormhole gate.”

  “It appears to be Prince Dubashi,” Rache said.

  Amergin’s brows rose. “Do you know more than I do? If so, I need to spend more time plugged into the network.”

  “Just that a single prince spearheading a war with a Kingdom that controls an entire system—the only government in the Twelve Systems that can make that claim—seems unlikely. As wealthy as the vaunted Miners’ Union leaders are, it’s hard to imagine even one of them having the resources for all that. I do wonder if someone else is backing him.”

  “Who else would have even more money than Dubashi?” Amergin asked.

  Rache spread a hand. “That’s the question. I did encounter astroshamans working with the terrorists on Odin, who may or may not have had a link to Dubashi, and there are astroshamans in this system now.”

  “I don’t know if they have those kinds of funds, Captain. They always portray themselves as above such human vices as hoarding money.”

  “What they portray and what is reality may be different things. They’re as far-flung as the Miners’
Union and far more secretive. According to one of their leaders, they control the gate we just flew through.”

  Mendoza looked at Rache and spoke for the first time. “Didn’t see sign of anything other than the typical joint-governments patrol ship when we flew through, sir.”

  “It’s possible she—Moonrazor—gave us false intelligence, but I’m inclined to think she spoke the truth, since she wasn’t speaking it to me.”

  “To Casmir?” Yas guessed.

  “Yes. It’s possible that the true mastermind here is irrelevant, other than that it’s wise to know who one is working for before accepting a contract, but what we have here is an opportunity to be a part of an attack force that can destroy King Jager. I don’t usually care to work with other mercenaries, but it may be worth it. The question is whether Dubashi and his allies truly have the power to take down the Kingdom military. And if that matters to us, so long as we don’t get taken down. Should we join in against the Kingdom if we’re getting paid—some upfront, obviously—regardless?”

  “Surprised you’re even asking, sir,” Mendoza said. “You hate the Kingdom. Everybody knows that.”

  Yas didn’t countermand the comment, but he immediately thought of Kim, who Rache clearly did not hate, and that she was from the Kingdom. Did she have family there? Yas only knew of Kim’s loaded-droid mother, but he assumed she had friends and relatives on Odin. And would object to Rache helping to destroy her world.

  But it was possible Rache wouldn’t let that sway him. After all, he kept kidnapping Kim against her wishes. Yas wondered if he’d asked for forgiveness for those offenses after the fact. And if he would do the same if he participated in destroying her home.

  “I hate Jager,” Rache clarified. “I don’t necessarily want to see the Kingdom subjects bombed, but in a planetary-scale invasion force, such as is underway, Dubashi will find it difficult to select pinpoint targets. He will inflict mass destruction in an attempt to win by attrition. If that is his goal. I don’t know. I’m curious about his plans. That’s why we’re heading to his moon base for his meeting.”