The Vigilante Chronicles Omnibus

by Natalie Grey

  “Well, I would say that I felt better before I got all bruised, but…” Tafa checked herself, “the bruises are already gone.”

  “Yes, that part is nice.” Barnabas smiled. “Otherwise you feel good, though, yes?”

  “Yes.” Tafa smiled. “Remarkably good. I think…is my vision better?”

  “Ah, yes.” Shinigami smiled. “I made several adjustments in addition to strengthening you. Your vision and hearing have improved, the bones in your wrists and elbows were moved very slightly so that you’ll get fewer tendon issues in the future, and your allergy to lactose is gone.”

  “I can have ice cream now?” Tafa demanded. She had been overjoyed to discover the human treat and crestfallen when it made her sick.

  “You can have ice cream now,” Shinigami confirmed. “In fact, I’ll make a bowl for you in the kitchen. With whipped cream, which you didn’t even get to try before.”

  “I’m going to go right now! I’m so hungry.” Tafa took off at high speed, clipped the door frame, and ran into the wall on the opposite side of the corridor. “Oops! Still learning!” Her voice echoed back as she ran.

  Barnabas was laughing as he looked after her. “I was worried about her being too timid. I didn’t guess she would go full Gar on us.”

  “What?” Gar stuck his head around the door. “I heard my name. Also, I thought Tafa was here.”

  “Tafa is in the kitchen eating ice cream,” Barnabas told him. “Unless she’s managed to punch through a wall by accident.”

  “Speaking as the one with the ship-wide diagnostics, she’s given it a couple of good shots,” Shinigami said, rolling her eyes.

  Barnabas laughed.

  “I’ll go find her,” Gar said. “Unless…do you need me for anything?”

  “I’ll be going down to the surface for a planning meeting shortly,” Barnabas told him. “I just need to speak to Jeltor first. I suspect we won’t be able to bring everyone. They probably don’t even want me there, but I want to make sure I know what’s going on and that they’re taking Ferqar and Gilwar’s advice.”

  “Good call,” Shinigami agreed. “Should we go talk to Jeltor first?”

  “Yes.” Barnabas nodded and flashed Gar a smile. “Keep an eye on Tafa for now. You know how disorienting it can be to suddenly have that much strength.”

  Gar headed off with a nod, and Barnabas and Shinigami made their way through the ship to Jeltor’s quarters. The door slid open for them before they even knocked, showing that Jeltor had given them a tacit invitation to come in, but as they walked into the room, they heard the sound of crying.

  “It isn’t what I wanted,” Jeltor was saying. “I didn’t want any of this, Jelina. But my regret—it’s for you. It’s for the children. You didn’t deserve to get caught up in this.”

  “You didn’t deserve to get caught up in this!” Jelina’s voice, even the mechanical voice from the biosuit, was wracked with pain. “Haven’t you suffered enough? You’ve been tortured, Jeltor, and you didn’t know who you were, but you found your way out. Haven’t you done enough? Haven’t you helped enough?”

  Jeltor said nothing.

  Almost in a whisper, Jelina asked, “Isn’t there anyone else?”

  “No.” In that one word there was certainty. “Jelina, there isn’t anyone else, I swear. If there were…”

  “If there were, you would still do this because of your damned honor!” She flared, angry. “You’d say it was your responsibility. I know you.” There was a long pause. “And it’s part of what I love about you,” Jelina whispered finally, defeated. “Jeltor, I understand. I know why you’re doing this. I just…wish things were different.”

  “I know. So do I.” Jeltor sounded devastated. “I would give anything for it to be different, but the Admiral needs to be turned back, or I don’t even know how many lives will be lost. And I’m the only one who’s been there and come back.”

  “I know.” Jelina sounded like she was going to cry again. “At least you’re dying as you, Jeltor, not as what they tried to make you.”

  “Yes.” He sounded grateful. “Yes. I am glad we got to speak again.”

  Barnabas had heard enough. He strode into the room, and Jeltor swung to face him. On the monitors, Jelina looked over.

  “No one is going to die for this,” Barnabas announced. He held up a hand when Jeltor would have spoken. “No, you listen. We didn’t get you back so you could throw yourself away in a Pyrrhic victory. I agree that Admiral Jeqwar needs to be re-converted, and I agree that you should be involved, but that’s no reason to do things… Shinigami, what’s the polite way to say this?”

  “Don’t be polite,” Shinigami advised. She looked at Jeltor. “You’re doing this the stupidest way possible,” she explained. “Don’t do that.”

  Barnabas threw up his hands and looked heavenward for patience.

  “What? The fleet’s arriving in five hours, so we don’t have the time to be all pretty and flouncy.”

  Barnabas shook his head and looked at the screen. “Jelina, I am so sorry to cut this short, but would you mind if we spent some time planning with Jeltor? Please believe me when I say that I will find a way to have him help without putting him in undue danger. I give you my word.”

  Jelina hesitated, then nodded. “Jeltor, I love you. Listen to Barnabas.”

  “I…I will. I love you. Tell the kids I love them.” Jeltor seemed ready to break down.

  “I will.” She, at least, seemed reassured by Barnabas’ words. She ended the call.

  “All right,” Barnabas said briskly when Jeltor sat staring blankly at the black screen. “I know you were sure you were going to die and that would be the last time you would see her, but I’ll be damned if I let that happen. And frankly I’ve been closer to being damned than most people, so I know what I’m talking about.”

  Jeltor gave a weak laugh.

  “That’s better.” Barnabas pulled chairs over for him and Shinigami, and sat on one, smiling as she perched on the other. Fake cloaks apparently did not get snarled up on chairs. “So, what was your plan?”

  “To infiltrate the flagship,” Jeltor said miserably. “I thought I would try to appeal to her, call her back...” When his voice trailed off, Barnabas realized what Jeltor was hinting at and why he was so miserable.

  He was prepared to kill Admiral Jeqwar if he needed to.

  “It won’t come to that,” he assured the captain. “We’ll find a way to cut her off from the fleet if we need to. And I wonder…is there a way to get you inside her head without being present on the ship?”

  All of them pondered this for a few moments.

  “There might be,” Shinigami said finally. “So much is going through the system when an admiral takes control of the fleet. It shouldn’t be difficult to sneak a few more signals in, in a way that they won’t be able to find them for a while. With some help from our Jotun friends, I should be able to learn enough about the mechanisms to do that. The catch…”

  “Yes?” Barnabas lifted an eyebrow.

  “I’d have to be in the middle of the battle,” Shinigami said. “I don’t think I can do it from the ground.”

  Barnabas chewed his lip, but Jeltor laughed. “That sounds like old times,” he said. “We faced down the Yennai fleet, and we can do this. At least I know this fleet well.”

  “That’s the spirit,” Shinigami said encouragingly. She cocked her head to the side. “Barnabas, the team on the ground has a plan, and General Vidrelor has offered to brief you on it.”

  Barnabas groaned and got to his feet. “He just hates having me involved, doesn’t he?”

  “He does,” Shinigami confirmed. “He hates it so much. But think of it this way: the fact that he’s still including you is an incredible measure of respect for your abilities.”

  “I suppose there’s that.” Barnabas looked at Jeltor, then Shinigami. “So you have a plan, then? A way to get to the admiral without putting Jeltor in too much danger?”

  Shinigami
hesitated, then laid her plan out for him. It was dangerous, Barnabas had to admit that, but it was also very sound—and safer than Jeltor’s plan. He looked at Jeltor.

  Jeltor nodded once. “It’s no more dangerous than being in any part of that battle,” he said, “and good people, sailors and captains, are involved now. You’re right, I don’t have to do this the stupid way…but I’m not going to sit it out either. Tell Vidrelor what we’ll be doing.”

  “I will,” Barnabas assured him. He considered. “All right. I’m going to take Tafa and Gar, and I’ll send the people you need back in a Pod. I’ll see you all after the battle.”

  Shinigami gave him a salute that somehow managed to be ironic and serious at the same time, genuine respect showing under her mischievous smile. Jeltor nodded deeply to Barnabas.

  “You keep saving my life,” he observed. “I’ll have to repay you for that.”

  “You can buy me some juice at Aebura’s when we’re done,” Barnabas told him with a grin, and he made his way out of the room to get dressed for the battle.

  He was whistling as he went, an old tune he’d long since forgotten the name of, and it occurred to him to wonder how he could be so happy on the eve of a battle.

  He knew why, of course. Still, he told himself it was the fact that all of this would be done soon. The Committee was finally outflanked and outplayed. They had no idea they were going to face down a Brakalon fleet when they arrived. The Committee would be ended, and the long process of justice could begin.

  Yes. That was why he was so happy.

  Chapter Thirty

  Senator Torsen insisted on being on the bridge when the Jotun fleet arrived at Kordinev. It made Admiral Jeqwar want to beat her body against the wall of her tank, but she floated motionless in the central canister, her biosuit standing nearby, lifeless. From her position on the bridge, she could see everyone, and they could see her.

  A large series of connections at the top and bottom of the tank gave her input from each of the ships in the fleet and allowed her to send signals back. If she tuned out the sensory data she received from her own body, she could feel the fleet around her—little pinpricks with different signatures, showing her which were accelerating and which were decelerating, which were arming missiles, and which were in communications with other ships. In a battle, she would be able to sense this not only about her own fleet but about the enemy ships that could be seen by their sensory arrays.

  Because of this, she was the first one to notice the other fleet.

  It was only by a split-second, of course. Almost instantaneously, the klaxons blared to life and the bridge descended into carefully-channeled chaos.

  There was a moment, however, when she was the only one who knew, and she saw the game shift and change before her eyes. This had been almost dishonorable before, arriving at a planet that had no hope of defending itself. Now there was another fleet.

  She knew the disappointment of a thwarted plan and the exhilaration of the coming fight.

  Then she swung into motion. While Senator Torsen was still ducking—to get away from what? the admiral wondered contemptuously—and bobbing stupidly in her tank, Admiral Jeqwar took control of the fleet seamlessly and without hesitation. The formation spread into two wings at the sides, with contingents of fighters both above and below the flagship and a single spear thrusting toward Kordinev.

  “Admiral Jeqwar!” Senator Torsen was babbling something about plans and Qarwit and all manner of useless rules and checklists the admiral had no time for.

  “Let them come,” she said, and because she was hooked into the entire system, her words boomed throughout the room and the fleet. “This is why you brought me here. This is what I do. Let us show not only the Brakalons but all species that they can try to stand against us, but they will be cut down.”

  Shinigami had established contact with the Jotun flagship as soon as it was in range of her scanners—which was to say, considerably before it saw them.

  The idiots hadn’t even thought to send scout ships. They’d been so damned certain that they knew what was waiting for them, they’d just launched their fleet through space with no plan as to what would happen if anyone stood up to them.

  The admiral, at least, had reacted quickly. The formation of the Jotun fleet changed before their eyes, and Shinigami watched from the bridge of each Jotun and Brakalon ship as the two fleets readied for battle.

  As General Vidrelor had asked, she had fed the admiral’s words to each of the Brakalon captains. She was pleased to see that none of them seemed worried.

  She had been worried when she listened to their plans through Barnabas’ ears. How could a fleet that had never been in combat have a hope of defeating a famed admiral? She had thought it was a bad bet, indeed.

  Then they had shown her the drills they ran with data pulled from every known battle of every alien species. The Brakalons had not simply built a secret fleet, they had trained extensively to use it.

  And, much like the admiral had experience on her side, they had the element of surprise.

  It hinged, in Shinigami’s assessment, on how the Jotuns intended to use their fleet. After all, the Jotuns did not have much in the way of infantry, so their gambit must surely have been to put the major cities of Kordinev in the crosshairs and demand compliance.

  Well, they had probably intended to have converted agents within the government who could order troop deployment before anyone knew what was going on, but now their plan would have to be enacted by force.

  She did a quick scan of the Brakalon fleet to make sure no Jotun signals were interfering with operations, then checked in with Barnabas.

  How are things going on the surface, chief?

  Well enough, Barnabas reported. We’re all just waiting.

  The Brakalon action plan had been to ready troops and station them at various strategically-important jump points, getting ready to respond quickly to any ground assaults. With a Pod at his disposal, Barnabas had offered to be part of the first response team, and he and Gar were ready to go whenever the alert came.

  Tafa was in the Pod as well, but Barnabas had absolutely forbidden her from stepping foot outside it. As soon as he and Gar were out, it would withdraw to a safe distance. Tafa wasn’t happy with this, but even she had to admit that a two-species planet-wide showdown involving fleets, an entire army, and specialized strike teams wasn’t exactly “baby’s first battle” material.

  How are things on your end? Barnabas asked curiously. I see the admiral is preparing for confrontation.

  She’s glad of it, Shinigami replied. She’s an honorable opponent. She didn’t like the idea of steamrolling the Brakalons.

  I hope we get her back, Barnabas remarked soberly.

  The way she reacted tells me that we should be able to. What kind of honorable opponent works for the Committee?

  You ask that, but a great many people with well-developed systems of honor have fought for deeply dishonorable causes over the years.

  Give me this one. Shinigami began her quick dance through the Brakalon fleet. In order for their plan to work, they needed to be invisible to the Jotuns and moving quickly. Thankfully for her, she had experience with Jotun scanners and several Jotuns to work with to develop her strategy.

  Then the main cannons began arming in the flagship and she felt herself settle into cold anticipation.

  It’s beginning. I’ll update you as I can.

  Godspeed, Barnabas said, and she caught both the worry and the affection in his tone.

  You too, chief.

  The Brakalon fleet had not only spread out into a maneuverable, difficult formation to take on, more ships kept arriving around the curve of the planet.

  Where had they been hiding these ships, godsdammit? Admiral Jeqwar felt a stab of what might almost be called sympathy for Senator Torsen, who was pacing up and down and muttering to herself. She was clearly worried about what would happen to her if they failed in this mission.

  And w
hile politicians got, in the admiral’s estimation, exactly what they deserved, she had to admit that this particular development could hardly be laid at the senator’s door. No one had known this fleet existed.

  There was no time for surprise, however. She needed to show them what battle was. If no one had seen this fleet before, it meant that they had trained in simulations.

  And in simulations, people didn’t die. Her opening gambit would be to make them feel the losses and get their first taste of fear. She went for two of their support ships first, the repair-and-rescue ships that would zoom through the battle to any wounded ship. She had identified them early.

  Take out your enemy’s support and they had only one charge. Give them a taste of fear, put death nipping at their heels, and they would begin to make mistakes. They would take desperate risks, too emotional to hold the line and wait for their opportunity.

  She would be ready.

  The rescue ships went tumbling out of formation, and the countermeasures the flagship had launched, assuming that it was in the crosshairs, shot harmlessly into the void between the two fleets.

  Admiral Jeqwar felt a wave of satisfaction. Yes, she thought. Now it begins. Now you see.

  Then the words started in her head.

  Admiral Jeqwar. She knew that voice, although she had never heard it inside her head. She could not place it.

  Who is this?

  A reminder of your conscience. There was humor now. I am Gilwar. You do not know my name, but you have seen my work. It was my assassins who found Huword.

  A cowardly act, she shot back. She readied another spread of missiles, keeping her attention on the flagship, and then had the ships at the flanks set their missiles loose and begin to swing inwards.

  No, the cowardly act was to abduct civilians and torture them. The cowardly act was to pretend that the Jotuns were superior. If we were superior, it would be so clear that other species would welcome our leadership. Now, even our own people do not. They must be brainwashed.

  She felt bile swirl within her. She was not brainwashed. She hated that accusation. It filled her with strange panic. She shot wildly, succumbing to her own emotions before calming herself.