Lost Alliance (Dragonfire Station Books 1-3): A Galactic Empire series

by Zen DiPietro

  “Let’s definitely not do that, then.”

  “Believe me, we won’t.” Brak returned to the voicecom display. “There’s something else. I didn’t want to talk about it with Lim here.”

  Fallon stared at the display. “What is it?”

  “I know how to put your head to the ground.”

  Fallon waited, but Brak said nothing more. “Well, how? You can’t say that and leave me hanging.”

  “I wasn’t sure if you’d want to call everyone together first.”

  “Nope. I’ll fill them in. I want to know now.”

  “Okay.” Brak pointed at a dark area on the image of Lim’s implant. “See that? That rounded dark bit?”

  “Kind of.” Fallon tilted her head, as if a different angle would make it more apparent to her.

  “That’s a router for a private network. It encrypts data, encapsulates it so that the data has a means of travel, then sends it across the network. The hardware is all right there. My guess is that this implant has a built-in way of communicating outside of the datastreams, to keep it completely secure. It’s turned off right now, but I’m guessing it was used to load information into Lim’s brain, like you’d upload any other data.”

  Fallon felt light-headed. “Did I have one of these? In the implant Colb gave me?” If so, Krazinski would expect her to have access to it.

  “Based on the research you took from the lab, I’d guess that you did. All the successive designs included that feature.”

  Fallon had a moment of clarity. Krazinski knew about Colb’s attempt to implant her. Krazinski expected her to have a means of communicating with him inside her head. Without it, she’d never be able to find him.

  “Can you copy the network component of Lim’s device and add it to the implant you created for me?” A thought occurred to her. “Or better yet, use the research records we took from the lab to create a more advanced one?”

  Brak clicked her teeth. Clearly she didn’t like the idea. “The creation of the device would not be very difficult. Since it’s very small, adding it to your inducer implant would be relatively simple. But creating an open gateway in your brain could have any number of unintended consequences. Remember what happened the first time someone put something in your head.”

  Fallon ignored that. She was solving a puzzle. If she took time to think about it from a personal perspective, it would only make doing what she needed to do difficult. “How would the information be transmitted without a hardline between me and Krazinski? How would I get it where it needs to go?”

  “I don’t know. All I have is the hardware. But if what you say is true, I’d expect that Krazinski knows exactly what he’s looking for, and you’d just need to supply it.”

  Fallon hoped so. “Right. I’m guessing the message travels via photonic energy.”

  “Why?”

  Fallon touched the side of her head, thinking about the implant inside. It wasn’t the implant Krazinski expected her to have, but she hoped it could do what she needed it to. “Because that’s how I’d do it. Assuming there were no black holes or other interference in the path, it could work. Which means that Krazinski can’t be too far away, if he’s expecting me to be able to contact him.”

  “I don’t care to cut open a person’s head on the basis of that much conjecture.”

  Fallon had gotten so caught up in her discovery that she hadn’t considered that Brak might not cooperate. “Are you saying you won’t do it?”

  “Why not use Lim’s implant? He already has it.”

  “Krazinski’s waiting to hear from me. He may not even know who Lim is. He hasn’t turned up in any searches we’ve done.”

  Brak turned her back to the image of Lim’s brain. “How can you even consider this, after everything you’ve been through?”

  “Two things. First, it’s my job to do what needs to be done. Second, I trust you to do what you do. You’ll get it right.”

  “Shouldn’t you consult with your team?”

  Fallon didn’t even have to think about that. “No. It will cause unnecessary delay, and opinions will be mixed. In the end, I’ll end up making the decision anyway.”

  “But they’re your team. Your family, for all intents and purposes. Shouldn’t they get a say?”

  “Sometimes. Not this time. Being in command sometimes means making unilateral decisions that may prove unpopular.”

  Brak rubbed at the scales on her head. Fallon had never seen her so agitated. “You’re sure there’s no other way around this?”

  “Can you make an implant that doesn’t need to be inside a brain to work? Because that’d be nice.”

  Brak shook her head. “No. They require neural feedback and electricity to be fully functional.”

  “Then I don’t see any other way.”

  Brak looked like she was about to refuse. Fallon held up a hand before she could. “Look at it from my perspective. I have my team to protect. Plus all of Dragonfire. Plus all of the PAC. If I’m the only one who can get this done, then I’m going to do it.” She closed her eyes, letting herself think about Brak’s concerns. “I know it’s a risk to me. I don’t want anything else happening to my brain. But I really need to not think about that because if I do, it will make what I have to do a lot harder.” She opened her eyes and fixed them on Brak. “I’m not going to watch the PAC fall apart and spend whatever’s left of my life knowing I could have helped, if I hadn’t been so worried about myself, or how the people who matter to me will feel about it. Please. Help me do this.”

  Brak stared at her, unblinking, for several long moments. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’ll do it. On one condition.”

  “What?”

  “Once all this is over, you have to get PAC intelligence to issue me an official commendation for saving the PAC with my cybernetics expertise.”

  The demand was so unexpected, Fallon laughed. “Okay. Why?”

  “I want to take the commendation home to Briv and show it to my parents. Either they will recognize my honor, or they will shun me, but it’ll be my chance to be a part of my family and my world again.”

  “Wow. All right. Pull this off and I’ll do whatever I can to get you that commendation.”

  Brak dipped her chin in agreement. “I can have the device ready in a day. Two, if we want to be sure it won’t make your head explode.”

  “Let’s make it two.” Fallon had always appreciated Brak’s brutal sense of humor. “This won’t delay your work for Lim?”

  “No.”

  “Good.” Fallon didn’t want to prolong his wait. “We won’t mention this to anyone.”

  “You’re going to pay for that later, but I’ll go along with it.”

  Fallon’s amusement faded. “I’m always paying for something. It might as well be for something that might save us all.”

  In the team meeting the next day, Fallon explained that Brak would create a duplicate of the router in Lim’s brain. The others seemed encouraged by the possible step toward contacting Krazinski. She said nothing of her additional plans to have it put in her head. She let them think it might be possible to activate it in some other way.

  After the meeting, she tapped several people to befriend Lim. She knew that he had the temperament and eye for detail of a BlackOp. He wouldn’t have survived the past year and a half if he hadn’t. But she also knew from her own experience that Lim needed people he could trust. He needed to feel like someone cared that he existed.

  So she asked Arin and Kellis to seek him out. Both had overcome difficulties in their pasts, and that could serve as a bridge to common ground. They also were in the early stages of BlackOp recruitment, and if, as Fallon suspected, Lim had been a young BlackOp before his memory loss, he’d have two contemporaries. If he chose to continue in that line of work, anyway.

  She also tapped Wren to befriend him. Fallon couldn’t think of anyone with a bigger heart, or more love to give. Since Wren had experienced a situation similar to Lim’s but from
the other side, she was in a unique position to offer support.

  Another day passed, and when it came time for her to lie down on the techbed, she did it without reservations.

  “You’re sure about this? It’s a much simpler procedure than your last one, but there’s still a risk.” Though Brak remained perfectly professional, Fallon saw her personal concern as well.

  “Completely.” She positioned herself and waited for the restraints. She’d been through this drill before and looked forward to waking up to some results.

  Jerin looked like she wanted to say something, but she didn’t. She’d only just returned to Dragonfire, and had gotten an earful of a briefing upon arrival. Fallon knew she had reservations about this procedure, but Jerin merely rested her hand on Fallon’s forearm for a moment, then stepped to the techbed controls.

  Brak joined her and a moment later said, “Applying the restraints.” Then she added, “Administering the sedative.”

  “See you on the other side,” Fallon said before the stuff took effect.

  “Count on it,” Brak answered.

  Confusion swirled through Fallon. Lights and sound were a jumble. She opened her eyes, unsure where she was. She saw a Briveen face above her, watching. Just behind her, Jerin stood, looking unusually concerned. But she’d looked that way before the surgery too, and Fallon decided not to take it as a bad sign.

  “How do you feel?” Brak asked.

  “Groggy, but it’s fading.” Fallon struggled to pull herself together. “How did it go?”

  “As planned. All that remains is to rest until you’re fully alert and give the router a try.”

  “So soon?” Fallon had thought they’d need to wait for her to heal, or something.

  “Yup.”

  “In that case, bring me some coffee,” Fallon joked.

  “No stimulants. Give the sedative some time to leave your system.” Jerin’s voice was gentle but stern.

  “Sure. I’ll hang out. Catch up on some deep thinking.” Fallon stared up at the ceiling tiles and remembered counting and mentally measuring them before and after her previous surgeries. She seemed to be developing quite a history of having her brain operated on.

  Fallon had no way to measure time, but after a while Brak asked, “How do you feel now?”

  “Fine. Clearer.”

  “Good. Wren and Raptor are outside.”

  “What?” Fallon bolted upright.

  “Just kidding. But you seem alert to me.”

  “Dirty trick.” Fallon had to smile. It had been a good dirty trick. “So what do I do now?”

  “You should be able to intentionally access the router and send a message. The message will automatically be encrypted and encapsulated. Once it goes out, all you can do is wait for a response on that same network.”

  What did she want to say? Well, not much. If someone had commandeered Krazinski’s side of the gateway, she didn’t want to be throwing information at them.

  Head to the ground, she thought. The chief is online.

  She scrunched her forehead. How did she send the message? “How does a person initialize a neural implant?”

  “Electrical impulses go across the fibers and activate the implant. It shouldn’t take any more effort than thinking.”

  “I don’t feel like anything’s happening.” Fallon hadn’t expected to be unable to access the thing once it was installed.

  “I can see activity in that part of your brain, and everything looks like it should. I have no way of knowing what you might be thinking or sending.”

  “Right. That’s the whole point of a private network.” Fallon dangled her feet over the side of the techbed. “Am I allowed to stand?”

  Jerin moved to offer her a hand. “Sure. Take it easy though. Standard advice—no blows to the head, no extreme exertion, tell me if you have nausea, vertigo, headaches, and all that. You’ll probably be unusually tired, but back to yourself in a day or so.”

  “Yeah.” Fallon got to her feet and tested her balance. “My brain’s been sliced and diced a time or two before. This is getting to be a habit.”

  “Not something to brag about.” Jerin did not seem amused.

  “Probably not. But I seem fine. I guess I’ll go about my day as usual. Unless the mother planet beams a transmission from the supreme commander into my brain.”

  Amusement and concern were an odd mix to smell from Brak, but Fallon took it as a good sign.

  Aloud, Brak said, “Sounds like you watched old-fashioned space vids when you were growing up. I didn’t see any until I was in university and a classmate had a party with a space-vid theme.”

  “They’re good fun. Who doesn’t enjoy a cheesy holo-vid now and then?”

  Brak turned off the techbed, returning it to power-saving readiness. She gave Fallon a warning look. “I’ll say it again: Take it easy. Call me if you notice anything unusual, even if it seems like nothing. When will you tell everyone about this?”

  “I think I’ll wait until I have proof that the network implant works. I just have to figure out how to make that happen.”

  “Good luck with that,” Jerin said drily.

  “I’ll do it. I have to.”

  “I meant with telling your team what you’ve done. But yes, good luck with the other thing too.”

  Since Fallon wasn’t eager to spend an extended amount of time with the people she was hiding something from, she finally got around to doing something she’d put off for too long.

  “What can I do for you, Chief? I was just closing up.” Cabot indicated the door of his shop, then bowed. “But of course I’m happy to reopen if there’s something you need.”

  “Actually, it’s something I want to do for you. I’d like to take you to dinner.”

  His blink of surprise made her smile. “I’d be delighted. And since the shop is closed for the evening, I’m available whenever you like.”

  “How about now?”

  “Perfect.” He gave her a wink. “Where were you thinking we’d go?”

  “Wherever you like.”

  “How about the Tea Leaf? I’ve had a craving for nut milk tea all afternoon.”

  “Zerellian, or Bennite?” she asked.

  “Zerellian. The Bennite is good too, but tends to put me to sleep.”

  “The Tea Leaf it is.”

  “You know,” he said as they walked along, “if you were Rescan, you’d offer me your wrist.”

  “Offer it for what?”

  Cabot chuckled. “Like this.” He held his arm, palm up, in front of him. “I’d rest my palm on your wrist, and this would indicate that you are giving me the honor of acting as my host.”

  “Interesting. I’ve never heard of that.”

  “Oh, no one cares about Rescan traditions. Not even Rescans.”

  “It’s come to my attention recently that I haven’t done enough to experience other people’s ways of living. So here.” She lifted her arm as he’d demonstrated, offering him her wrist.

  A slow smile spread across his face. “Chief, you continue to surprise me.”

  He rested his hand lightly on her wrist, and they proceeded that way. Fallon had to admit, it made her feel more stately. She wasn’t sure that would help her in life, but at least she was keeping an open mind.

  Day shift had only just ended, and soon the Tea Leaf would fill with diners or people just relaxing with a cup of Baronian chamomile. For the moment, the café was fairly quiet. They chose a secluded table in a corner and perused their menuboards.

  Fallon quickly selected a sandwich, cold cucumber soup, and a pot of Japanese green tea. Cabot considered his options for a little longer before making his selections. As he set his menuboard aside, he smiled at her.

  “I’m so glad you invited me.” He folded his hands together on the table.

  “So am I. I meant to do it sooner, but I’ve been caught up in recent events.”

  He nodded knowingly, which made her wonder about his perspective on said events. “What�
�s the general feeling on the station? Are people anxious? Fearful?”

  “There’s certainly more anxiety than usual. An air of nervous excitement. PAC command going into seclusion has only happened a few times, and never in the past century. So of course it’s going to stir people up. But overall, I’d say there’s a…” The corners of his mouth drew down thoughtfully. “An overabundance of faith that things will work out. People are more fascinated than they are frightened.”

  “That’s good to know. Why do you think the faith is excessive? You don’t believe the PAC is strong enough to overcome a threat?”

  He smiled, but it was a world-weary expression rather than a happy one. “I pay attention to the galaxies, Chief. Our own and all the others within communication distance. I’m also a student of history. I know all too well that no government lasts forever. All societies go through periods of governmental demise and renewal. Most of the time, they end up better for it, but living through the change can be painful—or fatal, for millions of people. So I look at an event like this as, perhaps, the tip of the asteroid. The harbinger of a new era.”

  “That’s surprisingly pessimistic of you. I always saw you as someone who had more faith in happy endings.”

  “Happy endings happen all the time. But so do tragic ones. It isn’t pessimism, Chief, it’s realism. Is your outlook so different?”

  She lifted her chin in acknowledgement. “No, but I’ve seen more bad than most people. I’m hardwired to look for undesirable outcomes so I can try to prevent them.”

  “And that’s part of why I like you so much.” His smile returned. “You’re one of the good ones, the idealists fighting to make things better for everyone.”

  She shrugged off his praise. “It’s only part idealism.”

  “What’s the other part?”

  “Hedonism. It’s what makes me feel alive.”

  His eyes crinkled with delight. “See? You’re a self-aware realist, like me.”

  A server arrived carrying their order on a tray, then carefully laid out each dish in front of them before retreating.

  Fallon reached for her teapot but Cabot rested his hand on it first. “Shall I?” he asked. “As I understand it, it’s polite to pour your tea for you.”