The Vigilante Chronicles Omnibus

by Natalie Grey

  Barnabas studied himself in the mirror for a moment before combing his hair carefully. He selected a tie, knotted it, and pulled on a vest. This was a useless gesture, as he might need to change into armor again in short order, but putting on clean, neat clothes made him feel like himself.

  He had not felt like himself for some time now.

  He worked hard to think of nothing as he cleaned his armor and his weapons, taking care not to get any grease or blood on his clothing. He laid everything out once more when he was finished, looked at it in satisfaction, and washed his hands thoroughly. After the time spent doing these tasks, he felt calmer.

  “You should come to the bridge,” Shinigami said suddenly.

  His calm vanished. Shinigami did not tend to speak like that unless there was a good reason. Barnabas left his armor laid out and headed for the bridge at a brisk walk, trying to retain a sense of process and decorum. Halfway there, he broke into a run and arrived at the same time as Gar and Tafa.

  Barnabas stepped back to allow them onto the bridge first. Discipline, he believed, was made of small moments like this, forcing himself to stillness when he wanted to rush to his seat—as if it would help.

  That was when the ship banked sharply. Alarms went off and Tafa gave a worried cry, sliding into her seat and bringing up all of her panels. Gar, who had gripped his chair to keep from falling, threw a hand out to steady Barnabas, and in her seat, Shinigami fixed her eyes on the screen with grim determination.

  “Shinigami?” Barnabas crossed the room quickly, giving Gar a nod of thanks, and sat to study the view screens. Missiles and energy beams of some sort were streaking past them, and from the flicker on the screens at the side of the room, concerted attacks were being made on their cloaking and other internal processes.

  “Jotuna D,” Shinigami said, sounding annoyed, “has a defense system that rivals High Tortuga’s.”

  Barnabas turned to look at the screen again. The Jotun ship was not far ahead of them, although it was moving more quickly than Barnabas would have thought possible. Of all species he had personally encountered, the Jotuns were the most dangerous in terms of technology.

  Until recently, he would have said they were less dangerous than other species because they did not have imperial ambitions. Now, however, he was not so sure. Whether or not the committee enjoyed broad support, Jotun society had produced a dedicated and well-funded group that was hell-bent on subjugating the rest of this sector.

  That said something.

  A new storm of beeping arose, and the screen automatically highlighted several small objects that had been launched toward them by a satellite. Barnabas frowned at them.

  “What are those?”

  “Bots,” Tafa said.

  “Do you have any idea what they do?”

  “Override our systems, shut down our life support, and vent the ship,” said a new voice.

  Everyone turned to look at the doorway, where Gil stood with his mechanical face pointing at the screens.

  “I see,” Barnabas said. “Shinigami—”

  “Already taken care of.” Shinigami settled back in her seat and gave a small smile. “Pucks.”

  “Ah.” Barnabas smiled as he watched the red-highlighted shapes explode one by one and disappear from the tracking systems.

  “I’d almost like to get one to study,” Shinigami said in an undertone.

  “No,” Barnabas said flatly.

  “Oh, come on, we could—”

  “He’s right. You shouldn’t allow any of the committee’s technology on board,” Gil said. He stepped onto the bridge and paused. “May I enter?”

  “That’s supposed to be my line,” Barnabas murmured. When everyone looked at him in confusion, he rolled his eyes. “Vampire joke, never mind.”

  “Hey, he’s back.” Shinigami smiled at him. “Bad jokes and all.”

  “I do not make bad jokes.”

  “Yes, you do. All the time. Until recently.” She jerked her head at Gil. “And what about this guy?”

  “Ah, yes.” Barnabas nodded to Gil. “Please, come in. We’ve followed the ship to Jotuna D.”

  Gil came a few steps into the room. His eyes focused on the moon. “I believe Senator Grisor has an estate there.”

  “That sounds about right.” Barnabas narrowed his eyes. “I wonder if he’d be so bold as to have Jeltor taken there, although he must know that we’re onto him by—”

  “Everybody brace!” Shinigami yelled. A new spread of missiles had just launched, and the ship flung itself into a dizzying array of maneuvers. The planet swung wildly and disappeared in the view screen and Barnabas looked away, fighting for control of his stomach.

  Something must have clipped them because the ship went spinning sideways as Shinigami swore under her breath.

  “If I can just get us through this layer—”

  “There’s another layer of satellites in extremely low orbit,” Gil reported.

  “You have got to be kidding me! What is this place?”

  “Many senators have homes here. It’s considered a very fashionable place for them, so it’s armed to the teeth, I believe humans would say.”

  Barnabas looked at the missiles that were circling them and at the satellites that still had not been taken out, and envisaged another layer of satellites and whatever antiaircraft measures were on the surface. “Shinigami, get out of here.”

  “What?” She stared at him incredulously. “No way. No. You can’t be serious.” The ship swerved again, and her fingers tightened on the armrest to hold herself in place. “We’re so close, and if we don’t see where he’s landing—”

  “Shinigami, you asked me to trust you.” Barnabas held her eyes. “I did. Now it’s time to trust me. We aren’t going to get Jeltor back if we’re in a bunch of bloody pieces in orbit.”

  Shinigami hesitated—though, thankfully, her hesitation was limited to this decision. The ship continued to maneuver without a pause.

  She looked back at the screen and grimaced. “Fine. But I’m torching some of these stupid-ass things on the way out.”

  “You do that.” Barnabas crossed one knee over the other and sat back. He watched as pucks took out three of the satellites and sent another reeling out of position, and he noted from the stream of information crossing the screens nearby that Shinigami was collecting as much data as she could on their internal systems.

  “Is…she flying the ship?” Gil asked Barnabas quietly. “She looks away from her controls quite frequently.”

  “It’s complicated,” Barnabas said. As the ship spun partially out of control, he added, “Shinigami, what was that?”

  “A damned sight better than you’d be doing in my place, I’ll tell you that.” She gave him a grin.

  “I don’t dispute that, but— Well, to cut to the chase, how much is Helen going to yell at me when we go in for maintenance next time?”

  Shinigami snickered, which was not, in Barnabas’ opinion, a heartening sign. He sighed and rubbed his temples.

  “Well, that was disappointing.”

  Gil was staring at him in confusion. “I didn’t think you were generally so…calm…about setbacks.”

  “Your first experience with me was somewhat atypical.” Barnabas stood. “All right, we’ll all meet in the conference room in one hour. Until then, brainstorm on your own about how to get onto that planet. We have to get there soon, and we need to go in silent. Not only that, this may be a larger base of operations. Gil, we’ll need any information you have on it.”

  Gil nodded.

  “Where are you going?” Shinigami asked Barnabas.

  “To call Carter,” Barnabas said. “We’re going to be going back on High Tortuga later than I said, so I should definitely tell him. It’s only polite. Also, I will need beer when I get there, I can already tell.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “Barnabas.” Carter appeared on the screen, suntanned and grinning. “Heading our way?”

  “Not just yet
.” Barnabas smiled back. It was impossible not to. Carter was the type of person whose good moods were irrepressible and absolutely infectious. He’d be the perfect person to be stuck on a desert island with…assuming you didn’t kill him for being so damned cheery about the whole experience. “We have a loose end to tie up, and I really don’t know how long it’s going to take.”

  Carter nodded in easy understanding. “In your line of work you can never tell, can you?”

  “I wanted to apologize,” Barnabas explained. “I doubt I’ll be back before your niece leaves.” In his head, he saw a smile very much like Carter’s and had a pang of something that felt surprisingly like regret. He would have enjoyed talking in circles with Aliana, making her panic that he’d figured out her game and then pretending he had no idea.

  To his surprise, Carter looked very pleased with himself. “Actually, Aliana will be staying for a while.”

  “Really?” Barnabas’ brows went up. “I thought she had…a job.”

  “Oh, she did,” Carter said. He still looked like the cat that had the cream. “I pointed out that cargo handlers are a dime a dozen. No offense to Aliana, of course; I’m sure she was a damned fine employee, but it’s not like they’ll have trouble replacing her.”

  “Of course,” Barnabas replied, deriving secret amusement from the fact that Carter seemed to have no idea what Aliana’s job had actually been. “So she quit, did she? Interesting. I wonder why?”

  To his surprise, Carter looked almost evasive for a moment. “I, uh… Well, she’s staying to help with Elisa’s pregnancy. Look after the twins, work at the bar. You know, all that stuff.”

  “Oh?” Barnabas frowned slightly.

  “You know how hard being pregnant is. Well, you’ve heard, I’m sure.”

  Barnabas, who had indeed heard multiple soliloquies on the subject from Gabrielle, nodded blandly. Then his frown deepened. “I thought Elisa was doing well? There’s not a problem, is there? Because we could probably get her over to one of the bigger hospitals if we needed to. In fact—”

  “No, no, it’s…ah…” Carter rubbed at his hair, then shook his head. “So what’s this complication that came up in your mission?”

  Barnabas allowed himself to be led but resolved to circle back around to this topic. It was unlike Carter to be evasive, and if something actually was wrong with Elisa, Barnabas wanted to know it.

  “There’s… Oh, hell, where to start?”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say ‘hell,’” Carter exclaimed, sounding impressed. “It must be serious.”

  “How much do you know about the Jotuns?” Barnabas asked him.

  “Uh…about the normal amount, I’d guess. They wear mechanical suits, they seem to be fairly reclusive. Wait—it was the Jotuns you fought with, right? Against the Yennai Corporation.”

  “Some of them.” Barnabas sighed. “The Navy. The Senate was in the Yennai Corporation’s pocket.”

  “Better than the other way around, right?”

  “I— Well, yes. I hadn’t thought of it like that.” Barnabas felt his lips twitch. He hadn’t smiled nearly enough lately. He struggled to hold onto the feeling as he spoke again. “Another portion of the Senate—a committee—came up with this insane plan…”

  In the shadows of the hallway, Aliana took a careful step closer to the door. She hadn’t come up here to eavesdrop; she wouldn’t do that. She’d heard her name, though, and that had stopped her in her tracks. And then she’d heard Barnabas’ voice, and that had made her want to hear what was going on.

  They were talking about her? Her? The thought of it made her feel very odd.

  And then she remembered just why Barnabas might be interested in her, and absolute panic filled her. She edged down the hallway as quietly as she could, her need to hear what was going on at odds with the creakiness of the floorboards.

  Carter was competent when it came to building things. The bar was hardly going to fall down anytime soon. It was just that it creaked a lot.

  To her disappointment, by the time she reached the door they were talking about something else entirely. She frowned as she listened in, biting her lip.

  “So they were abducting civilians from these remote border colonies,” Barnabas was saying. “Huword always tortured a few himself. I think he just liked doing it, honestly.”

  Her uncle said nothing to this, but Aliana knew him well enough to guess that he was torn between horror and fury. She knew, because it was the feeling that was currently roiling in her own chest. The two of them had always reacted similarly when it came to things like this.

  Barnabas must have realized this because he said quietly, “I don’t have to tell you all of it. You know.”

  “No.” Carter sounded resolute. “I want to know. I have to know what’s out there now, because—” He didn’t finish the sentence.

  “No one like that will get to you on High Tortuga.” Barnabas’ reply was unequivocal. “Any fleet goes near that planet, it will be in tiny pieces within minutes. I promise you that, Carter.”

  There was a pause, and Aliana leaned closer to see what her uncle was doing. He was staring at the floor, his shoulders hunched, but he nodded.

  “Thank you,” he said quietly, and then, “Tell me. Why would anyone… Why would they do that?”

  Barnabas hesitated, and Aliana wished she could see the screen.

  “Mind control,” he said finally. “They were testing a process that would make sentient beings loyal to them. Whether they perfected it for other species, I couldn’t say. There were…test subjects…in the laboratory we found, but they weren’t in good shape. They did figure it out for their own kind.”

  “They were doing it to their own people?” Carter was furious now. Horror was gone; there was only anger.

  “They knew that the Navy would oppose them. They must have suspected that the civilians would do the same. I don’t think they have the technology to do it on a mass scale, not yet, but…”

  He took a deep breath and Aliana clenched her hands. So this was the sort of thing Barnabas did, and the type of people he stopped. She had known about the Rangers, but she’d only had a vague idea what they did. She had never heard examples.

  She wished she still hadn’t. She felt sick to her stomach and then totally fine, by turns—because it couldn’t be real, could it? No one would do that.

  Except, apparently they would.

  “But they have Jeltor,” Barnabas said finally.

  Carter made a sound of surprise and his feet, which had been propped on the desk, thudded to the ground. “Your friend? The one you rescued with Tafa?”

  Barnabas must have nodded. He didn’t speak.

  “Barnabas.” Carter sounded like he didn’t know what to say. “Is he… Are you all right? Is he— Of course, he’s not all right. I don’t know why I…”

  “He might be,” Barnabas replied softly. Aliana could hear him clinging to hope. “They’ve only had a little time to work on him, so he might still be…himself. But he might not be.” It took courage for him to say those words. “I don’t know what to expect,” he said almost to himself. “I don’t know what it will look like, or even what they wanted to happen. It would be subtle; it would have to be, for him to be a sleeper agent. What if he lies to me?”

  Carter leaned his elbows on his knees and let Barnabas talk. Aliana watched his familiar profile for a moment and had a memory, unexpected, of skinning her knees on the ground at one of the parks on the Meredith Reynolds, and Carter holding her hand while the skin healed, and she sniffled. He was like that. He just listened when you needed him to.

  Barnabas sighed again. “Tell me honestly. Is Elisa all right?”

  “She’s fine,” Carter said absently. Then, coming back to himself, he groaned. “I…may have exaggerated things when I was trying to get Aliana to stay.”

  In the shadows, Aliana froze.

  Barnabas said nothing, but Aliana guessed he must have looked disapproving because Carter
threw his hands up.

  “I didn’t know what to do,” he protested. “She—her husband— Okay, well, ex-husband, I think… Huh.”

  “I don’t think I got any of that,” Barnabas told him frankly. “Start again.”

  “I don’t even know where to start.” Carter sighed.

  Aliana wanted to run. Every part of her was screaming for her to do so, but she just couldn’t seem to move. She squeezed her eyes shut, but that didn’t keep the words from making their way into her skull.

  “She got married at nineteen,” Carter explained. “No, no, it’s not like that, not like you’re thinking. Harry was great. He really was. Everyone was all upset that they got married so young, but when you saw them together, it made sense. They went all over together, like Elisa and me.” He paused and swallowed. “And then Harry died. It was sudden in a way, but drawn out enough to be… I can’t even imagine, Barnabas. She doesn’t talk about it. I know a little. I can imagine more, and that’s enough to make me want to—I don’t even know. To watch someone you love waste away and not be able to help…”

  Through the tears, streaming silently down Aliana’s cheeks, she heard Barnabas say, “I know.”

  And he did. She could tell. He did know.

  Carter took a deep breath to steady himself. “Lawrence was a mistake. He was her second husband. She did it…well, she did it when she was still cut up over Harry. She wanted to forget everything, I think, and he screwed her over good. He took her ship. I just want…”

  Barnabas waited.

  “I want her to be safe,” Carter finished finally. “I feel like she’s safe here. We can keep an eye on her and make sure anyone else like Lawrence gets chased away.”

  Carter thought he heard something out in the hall, but when he looked that way there was nothing to see. The whole place creaked all the time, though. He was imagining things.

  “Are you sure what she needs is people chasing away potential suitors?” Barnabas lifted an eyebrow.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means…” Barnabas sighed. “It means the only way she’ll heal is on her own. You can’t do that for her. She has to be able to make her own decisions.”