“You’re lucky we got to you before SenSec or the SIA did,” Klak said. “If they’d gotten their way, they would have already locked you up and thrown away the keys.”
Assad’s brow furrowed. “Sergeant Chin almost got them. I arrived at the dock just in time.”
“The SenSec Sergeant is becoming more daring by the day,” Third Councilor Sams added. “He’s been causing all sorts of problems lately.”
“It pays to be a Tal’ri dog,” Assad spat.
“So, we can count on your help, Commander?” Straiya asked, getting back to the point.
Grimshaw’s head reeled. He’d just arrived on the Sentinel and he was already getting dragged into the Galactic Council’s game. However, Chimera definitely had something to do with the Aphnai, and learning more about the secret organization would garner leads on the insect-like species. “I can’t make any promises, but I’ll do my best. I’ll need full disclosure. I’ll need to know everything you know. There can’t be any secrets.”
“Of course, Commander. We appreciate your cooperation.” Straiya gestured to her human councilor. “Return tomorrow, and Sams will provide you with everything you need to get started. The address for Foster senior’s residence, the location of your new offices, any other leads we may have, finances. Going forward, she will handle all requests related to the Chimera Project.”
“I look forward to that information you promised to share, Minister,” Grimshaw said pointedly.
He fought the urge to tell her that what he really needed was six hours of unbroken sleep. Since the Chits attacked, danger had come in relentless waves. He had plenty of time to rest during the trip to the Sentinel, but his thoughts had been too troubling, and sleep came in fits. He almost longed for the monotony of Fleet Academy Four. At least the politicians are giving me the evening off.
51
El Natural
Taza yawned as he stretched out an arm, feeling for Zora, but she no longer lay next to him. Since leaving the Underways, they had spent most of their time at her apartment, getting him back into shape. Zora had worked him hard, and he already noticed a slight improvement in speed and agility.
Taza climbed out of the silken sheets and searched for his clothes, finding them folded neatly by the closet. He donned his subarmor and went in search of food.
Comfortable furniture dotted the open-planned rooms. The apartment was well insulated against the city din, the air-purifiers humming gently in the background. A maid managed the property and kept it scrubbed clinically clean, but it still had a homely feel.
Taza reached for the well-stocked vendomat, and the machine poured glop into a white ceramic bowl. The aroma of roast chicken and gravy wafted into Taza’s nostrils. He closed his eyes and chewed the sticky nutrition, pretending it was the real thing. Zora’s vendomat was top-of-the-line with two hundred flavors. After an ill-fated experiment with Varg klorgax pie, Taza decided to stick with what he knew.
He gazed out the giant mono-directional window that looked over the Izmark River. The residence sat on the edge of the Financial District. Either Zora was high-born, or she was well compensated by her Omnion employers.
Taza finished his meal and put the bowl and spoon into the cleaning cupboard. He was about to climb into his TEK when the main door hissed open.
Zora walked through, carrying two bulky cases. “You’re awake, good.”
He dismissed the statement with a mock wave. “I’ve been up for hours.”
“Sure you have.” Her eyes scanned his body. “Don’t put your TEK on, I’ve got something to show you.”
He smiled. “It’s not every day a man gets an offer like that.”
“And it’ll be a long time before you get that kind of offer again, Taza.”
He had to stop himself from wincing at the sound of his real name being spoken. He had tried to convince Zora not to use it, but she insisted, and in the short time Taza knew her, he learned that she usually got what she wanted. “I’m still not used to being called that.”
“It’s normal. No one’s called you by your real name in almost a decade.” She lifted the black case onto the creaking bed and shrugged. “It’s a strange name for a human, but a hell of a lot better than Randai. Now that I think about it, I’ve never asked. Where does the name come from?”
“The folks who adopted me in the Underways gave it to me.” Taza rubbed his face. It was a subject he’d rather not talk about.
Zora must have sensed as much for she didn’t press the matter. Her smile conveyed understanding as she punched a code into the nearest case. “I got you a surprise.”
“What kind of surprise?” Taza asked, raising his eyebrows.
“Open it and find out.” She stepped aside, pointing at the container she’d unlocked.
Taza reached out and undid two latches. The lid hissed as it slowly opened, revealing a black package wrapped in a familiar material, but he couldn’t put his finger on where he’d seen it before. “What is it?”
“Don’t you recognize it? It’s the same TEK model I wore when I kicked your ass. If we’re going to be working together, you’ll need something a little more modern.” She eyed his old SIA TEK by his feet.
Taza’s eyes widened. “You mean, you’re giving this to me?”
“You don’t like it?”
“No, it’s not that.” He lifted the device out of the box, realizing why Zora had struggled to carry them. It was no bigger than a standard backpack but weighed half as much as he did. “No one has given me anything like this in a while. It must have cost…a lot.”
“Cost isn’t an issue. All that matters is that we’ve got each other’s backs, and I’d feel a lot better knowing that the person who had my back was well equipped.”
Taza turned the pack in his hands. “How does it work?”
She threw a new set of subarmor at him. “Change into that first, and I’ll show you.”
Taza followed Zora along the main thoroughfare, as they walked toward Izmark bridge.
The new TEK and SIG fitted well. He’d adjusted to the new gear within minutes of equipping it…or perhaps it had adjusted to him. Taza wasn’t sure. He’d been impressed with the TEK’s stats when first integrating to its systems. Everything was off the charts, from motor-control response times to shields, and he was looking forward to testing the unit’s ghost-drive later.
In the meantime, he enjoyed the smooth, responsive actuators as he glided along the pathway. He itched to learn the visor controls, but unless one was a member of Sentinel City’s various security forces, wearing a closed helmet was frowned upon. Zora also didn’t want to draw any unwanted attention.
Something struck Taza’s left shoulder, plucking him from his thoughts. A mean looking Varg looked down at him, and Taza realized he’d plowed into the alien while distracted.
“Sorry,” he said sheepishly before carrying on.
“Watch where you’re going,” Zora hissed. “We’re already cutting this close and can’t afford delays.”
“The TEK’s movements are really sensitive.”
“You’ll be used to it in a few days,” she said, her eyes scanning the crowds.
Taza knew Zora’s job involved keeping a strict track of time, but it didn’t stop him from wondering whether she was a touch obsessed. When she wasn’t checking her SIG, she was calculating causal projections with her apartment’s AI.
As they approached the bridge, Taza spotted Volron’s Munitions Certified near the Forecourts across the river.
“I still think we should pay that back-stabbing weapons dealer a visit,” he said, gesturing to the Forecourts. “Teach the bastard a lesson.”
“All in good time.”
“It really annoys me when you say that.”
Zora sighed, exasperated. “I haven’t made contact with the Omnion in months, and things on the Sentinel grow more delicate every day. We need to pick our battles carefully. Besides, we need to wait on Izmark Bridge, or we’ll miss our target”
/> “And that is?”
“What did I tell you about asking too many questions?”
Taza swore under his breath. He’d been with the woman for less than a week, and she was already bossing him around.
“You know I don’t like being out in the open like this, especially so close to Sentinel Square.” He looked to the government buildings on his left, Sentinel Tower dwarfing every structure at its base. “What if someone from the SIA recognizes me? The Galactic Council will have my head if they find out I’m still alive.”
“No one’s going to recognize you. It’s important that our…future employer meets you in person. It increases our chances of working with him.”
They stopped under one of the bridge’s high archways and waited next to a statue honoring some Yalore royal.
Zora scanned the crowds as they went by while Taza looked over the side, watching the clear water flowing by. “If you tell me who you’re looking for, I might be able to help.”
“You know I can’t do that.”
It didn’t take long before the person Zora was looking for appeared. She punched Taza in the shoulder and pointed to a man in a Confederation Fleet TEK. “That’s our guy. Come on.”
The man Zora pointed out appeared middle-aged, possibly a little younger than Taza. He was well-built with a hard face and a puckered scar on his right cheek—the kind of man who could cause serious trouble if so inclined. “Great. I hope we aren’t getting mixed up with the Confederation.”
Zora stepped out, cutting off the man’s access to the bridge. “Excuse me, sir,” she said in an uncharacteristically friendly tone.
“Can I help you?” he said gruffly, displeased at being disturbed.
“Captain Grimshaw?” Zora asked.
The Fleet officer had that look in his eyes that said he knew something they didn’t. “Who’s asking?”
“Sorry, how rude of me. I’m Zora Zakari, and this is my partner, Taza Arkona.”
Taza attempted a friendly smile, but the Fleet officer didn’t seem impressed.
“It’s Commander Grimshaw.” He sidestepped Zora and made for the bridge, muttering something about people mistaking him for a captain.
Taza fell in beside Zora as she caught up with the Commander and matched his pace.
“Sorry, Commander,” she said. “I just thought you were a Captain since you brought Project Zero here.”
The stone-faced Commander stopped and turned to Zora, his darting eyes full of uncertainty. “Who the hell are you? Are you with the media?”
“With all due respect, Commander,” Zora said. “Are we dressed like the media?”
“Whatever you’re trying to sell me,” he looked them up and down. “I’m not interested.”
“We’re private…investigators looking for work. We heard you’re in the market for people who know the Sentinel…People who aren’t afraid of getting their hands dirty.” Zora glanced in the direction of Sentinel Tower then leaned in close to the Commander and lowered her voice. “People without connections to the authorities.”
“Yes, I get it. But do you really expect me to believe you? For all I know, you’re a pair of spies…or terrorists.”
“We want the same thing,” Zora pressed.
“And what’s that?”
“To stop Chimera.”
The Commander grimaced at the mention of the name. He leaned closer to Zora, their brows almost touching, and Taza tensed, expecting a fight.
“What do you know about Chimera?” he growled.
“Like I said, we’re investigators for hire.” She gestured to Taza. “My friend here used to be one of the SIA’s best Archagents. But he’s been a private contractor for the past seven years or so, though we’d appreciate it if you kept that information on the DL.”
“I know my way around,” Taza explained, shooting Zora a warning glance. “But I don’t exactly go around advertising it these days.”
“You can contact us here.” Zora offered her SIG and looked at the Commander.
“You’ll have to forgive me for not buying it,” Commander Grimshaw muttered.
“Look up my name in the Confederation Fleet records, Commander. You’ll see that I have no affiliation with those Chimera scumbags. In fact, we have information on them that you’ll find useful.” She pressed her SIG closer, urging him to accept.
“You people living on this Sentinel are stubborn as hell, do you know that?” He held his Fleet SIG above Zora’s and received her information.
“You’ve got to be tough in a tough world, Commander.”
“You’re telling me?” He rubbed his face in frustration. “I’ll contact you should I need an extra set of eyes. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve had a hell of a week, and I’ve still got a lot of work to do.” The Commander continued along the bridge in a hurry and left Taza and Zora standing in his wake.
“Seems like a nice guy,” Taza said.
“Yup,” Zora uttered absently, watching the Commander disappear into the sea of bodies.
“What will you do if he doesn’t contact you?”
Zora yawned as she checked something on her SIG. “Oh, he’ll contact me.”
“I don’t suppose you can tell me what you need him for?”
“Nope.”
“You know, they say it’s important for couples to work on their communication skills,” Taza mocked.
Zora turned to him with a smirk. “Who said we’re a couple?”
“Well, that relationship didn’t last very long.” He regarded the sleek SIG on his forearm. “At least I got these awesome toys out of it. I’d call that a win.”
Zora put her arm around his waist and laughed playfully. “Let’s get something to eat. I’m starved.”
52
The North Star
Grimshaw stood on the walkway above Project Zero’s private hangar, recent events racing though his head. Between the conversation with Minister Straiya, the so-called investigators who’d accosted him on Izmark Bridge, and everything around Colony 115, his mind had become a tangled mess. He’d been on the Sentinel no longer than two days, and things were already spiraling out of control.
Councilor Assad had been true to his word and made sure that the wounded received medical help. Most were sent to the Overways Military Hospital. Those requiring specialized attention had been shipped off to other nearby facilities. He called the Aegi headquarters to check in on Eline, but they wouldn’t tell him anything, explaining that all information regarding the Aegis was classified.
Assad had also provided Grimshaw and his crew with temporary accommodation at one of his properties until arrangements could be made at the Confederation barracks. The building was already packed with military personnel who had been stranded after the explosion at G-Gate Alpha, cutting them off from Earth space. Lynch and his Marines had bid him farewell as they left for those barracks, explaining that they were being reassigned in a few days.
Grimshaw placed his hands on the walkway rails and looked down on Project Zero’s reflective hull. She had seen her passengers to safety and destroyed eight advanced Chit vessels twice her size in the process. The Tal’ri excluded, she was one of the most powerful ships in the galaxy, even while operating at thirty percent power.
If the Tal’ri and their dogs had their way, she would be kept in the hangar indefinitely: a hostage bound by foolishness and narrow-minded bureaucracy. If Grimshaw failed Minister Straiya, the ship would surely never fly again. Researching the information Minister Straiya had provided confirmed how unlikely he was to succeed on that front. Convincing an old admiral to speak with his son was one thing. Tracking down a so-called terrorist organization with almost no information was something else.
Becoming an Aegis would provide him with protection, as Third Councilor Sams had pointed out, but as long as he remained on the Sentinel, it would also bury him under mountains of red-tape.
He regarded his SIG. Whether I like it or not, chances are I’ll need those damn private in
vestigators.
Grimshaw saw wisdom in keeping Project Zero locked up. Although they had far to go, relations had improved remarkably between the humans and Shanti over the decades. Minister Foster’s dubious alliance with the Tal’ri, Rivarians, and Yalore threatened to undo years of diplomatic negotiations. However, the youngest two races in the Galactic Alliance suddenly becoming the two most powerful wasn’t going to win the Shanti and humans any friends or favors. The problem was they needed both in spades.
The Rivarians and Urlocks spent most of their time at each other's throats, the reclusive Yalore hated everyone, and the Vargs waged their never-ending tribal wars. That the Tal’ri were so unyielding and set in their ways didn’t help matters. And to top it all off, news networks were reporting rumors of Kragak war vessels appearing along the edges of human space.
The galaxy was in more of a mess than Grimshaw’s head.
Everyone would be ripe for the picking if the Chits showed up, and something told him the aggressive species would show their ugly-ass faces again soon.
He’d checked various news sources, expecting to learn of Chit sightings elsewhere in the galaxy, but his searches bore no fruit.
The invaders had appeared on Colony 115 before vanishing back to wherever they had come from. Perhaps they had gotten what they wanted, but something told Grimshaw that was wishful thinking. Either way, he hoped the Galactic Council would come to their senses before things worsened. It would be a pity for a ship like Project Zero to rot in a dusty old hangar, when there was so much that needed to be done.
The bulkhead gates shrieked shut, and the hangar lights dimmed to a glow as the docking crew filtered out for the day. Grimshaw wondered why the closing gates twisted his guts in knots. His hand shook, and he remembered. They sounded just like the sickening sound the black dragons on Gorthore had made as they hunted him. Unpleasant memories flooded in and Grimshaw shook more violently. His temperature rose, and his bones burned. He clutched hard at the rail and tried to will the thoughts away.
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