by Cain Hopwood
They stepped out of the ante room and started walking across the floor.
It only took seconds before they attracted attention, as would be expected when five individuals, armed with assault weapons, entered a civilian space. First they attracted stares, and a few brave, or foolhardy, manager types even approached them, but they backed away with one stern look from Admiral Katona.
Or, maybe it was the smell the admiral exuded that caused them to retreat. Occasionally Jon had got a whiff of Ka-Li signaling pheromones, but this was different. Waves of musky citrus scent were flooding off the admiral. Jon just wished he knew what the pheromones meant.
The admiral didn’t waste any time. He made his way straight to the station the guard commander had been operating. He tapped a few controls, then slipped a claw into the com pod on his harness.
“This is a ship wide broadcast,” he said, his voice booming through the nexus
“I, General Admiral Katona de Kuhn of Ahm-Wat, accuse Centarch Shaiken of conspiracy and subversion. His actions, if unchecked and unaccounted for, will bring deep dishonor to all of us, and all of Stetlak. He is no longer worthy of patronage, and I challenge him to the position of centarch.”
The admiral stood straighter, then lifted his face to the centarch’s chair. “Join us centarch, face the challenge, proclaim your innocence and let our nostrils know the truth of your words.”
From the operations floor of the nexus, the centarch’s chair couldn’t be seen. Jon couldn’t tell whether the centarch was up there, or whether he was just obscured by the platform and walkways.
“I will do no such thing!” Thundered a voice. “General Admiral Katona has been found guilty of insubordination, and attempted usurpation. He is sentenced to death. I would no more answer his challenge than I would one from a hatchling.”
Katona’s claw slid out of the com pod. He turned to the colonel and Jon. “As I expected, we will have to go to him, but we must be careful.” Katona faced the crowd of workers. “The centarch refuses the challenge, all here bear witness to that.”
The admiral’s hand went to his harness controls. Jon, Colonel Whitfield and the two Chonai did the same. With a nod from Katona, they each activated their harness’s grav-compensator, and then lifted into the air.
“Stay behind me, I need witnesses, not help,” said Katona.
Katona rose in a graceful, stately arc towards the largest of the walkways leading to the centarch’s chair. Jon did his best with the harness controls to match, but he was hard pressed just keeping up, and keeping near, the admiral.
Ahm-Wat and the other Chonai were, of course, equally poised. Katona and the other two Ka-Li brought themselves up to the walkway, and stepped onto it with no more trouble than Jon would take to step off an escalator.
Jon and the colonel fell slightly behind. And, while they navigated to the walkway well enough, they both cut their grav-compensators a little hastily, landing on the walkway with a heavy thud.
The centarch was visible now, he sat on a huge chair that looked for all the world like a purple throne. Successive layers of shimmering force shields surrounded the entire structure, and arrayed around the centarch were a myriad of consoles and screens, hovering in the air.
And, he was ignoring them completely.
— 63 —
Commander Biss struggled back to consciousness with ringing ears and the pungent smell of blood in his nostrils. It wasn’t good blood, prey blood, it was his own. He tried to push himself to his feet but couldn’t. Biss looked down at his rebellious legs to see them covered in blood. He was peppered with impacts, and one of them had severed a nerve cluster.
It will grow back, he thought. He rolled over onto his front and started dragging himself along, leaving a bloody trail like some kind of grotesque snail. Instinct was taking him away from danger, and back toward the operations floor.
Then he started thinking instead of just blindly reacting, and he stopped. It wasn’t hard to stop, the pain as he flexed his torso each time he dragged himself along the floor was intense, almost overwhelming. There was shrapnel still embedded somewhere in his body.
He reached for his com pod; he had to warn the centarch. But the pod was gone. Only a few tattered harness fragments still clung to his body. The rest, including the com pod, had been sliced off in the blast.
He looked around, but it wasn’t anywhere to be seen. It probably wouldn’t be working anyway, so he resumed pulling himself along the floor. Only a few spans away he could see an alcove, it should contain a com unit.
In his heightened state of pain, the short distance seemed to take an age to cover. In reality, it didn’t take longer than a couple of demis. He dragged himself to a seated position, wincing as the shrapnel in his gut moved, but he had no choice, the com controls were designed for someone standing. Even seated he could barely reach them.
It took a couple of attempts, but he eventually found the correct claw slot.
“Dispatch, Biss here,” he croaked.
“Commander, is everything all right?”
“No. Get me lieutenant…” His mind fogged trying to remember the name. “Renna, Lieutenant Renna.”
A moment later Renna came on. “Sir?”
“Renna, listen up. There’s been an attack on the nexus. Most of the internal guards are gone. Take everyone you have, bring them here and protect the centarch.”
“At once commander.”
“And Renna.”
“Sir?”
“I’ve been injured. I’m putting you in charge. You will need to prepare an assault.”
Biss didn’t even wait for Renna’s response, he terminated the connection and requested to be put through to the centarch. Unusually, he wasn’t made to wait. “Biss,” the centarch said, he was clearly angry. “Where are you? You haven’t been answering hails. What’s happening? Where have you taken my personal guards? I need them here immediately. Katona is here in front of me.”
“There was an attack sir, and your personal guards are all dead. I have put Lieutenant Renna in command. He will bringing more troops, but they are all over the starship. It will take time.”
“This is no time to resign Biss. We can discuss your incompetence later. If you’re the only one available, report to me immediately and protect me yourself.”
“Sir, I’m afraid I’ve been injured, I won’t be of any use to you.”
“Mortally?”
“I can’t walk.”
There was a pause. Biss closed his eyes for just a moment, then snapped them open when the com unit clicked. Now wasn’t the time to sleep, though the urge to shut his eyes was beguiling.
“I’ll talk to Renna then,” the centarch said with thinly veiled contempt. A soft chime came from the com. The connection had been severed.
Biss’s claw slipped out of the slot, and his hand flopped down to his side. He felt his eye membranes begin to slide together of their own accord. The pain had faded now, which was nice. He felt so weak, maybe he’d just doze for a moment, collect his strength, then he’d reach up again and call for a medical crew.
Yes, that was a good idea he thought. So he let his eyes close.
— 64 —
Jon could see the centarch speaking but he couldn’t hear what was being said. One of the fields between them was set to deaden sound.
“He’s probably trying to raise the guards,” said the colonel. “But Ingles has sorted them out. Still, we need to get him out from behind those fields before any others arrive.”
“Yes,” Katona said in a low voice. “But that will not be easy. Those fields are set to protect The Doyenne. Nothing we have will blast through them.”
Centarch Shaiken chose that moment to face them. He pushed the floating screens aside, and looked at the five intruders, his eyes thin slits. That particular piece of Ka-Li body language was one of the first Jon had learned. The centarch was angry.
“What is your plan now admiral?” Shaiken said. “As long as I stay in here, no
weapon can harm me. You may have killed Biss and the rest of my personal guard. But more are on their way. They will have you in custody long before I starve here.”
“Don’t be so sure Shaiken.”
As the admiral called the centarch by name Shaiken’s eye slit nostrils flared. “You dare address me by name. I am your patron, your centarch.”
“No,” Katona said. Then slowly and deliberately he added, “You have dishonored yourself, my client-hood, and Stetlak. You are not worthy of a centarch’s chair.”
“That is not your right to judge.”
“Maybe not, but judge you so I do. The Stetlak Assembly of Centarchs can consider my actions as they will.”
“You will not live to be judged by the assembly,” said Shaiken.
“We will see.” The admiral lifted an arm to his harness and activated a second com pod. “Captain Tohm?”
“Go ahead admiral.”
“Are your marine’s assault ready, as we discussed?”
“Always sir, we have two companies that can launch inside five parsas.”
“Excellent,” Admiral Katona said, and Jon could swear that he heard a note of humor in the Ka-Li’s voice. “Launch them immediately, then follow as quickly as possible with another two companies. Their orders are to secure the starship nexus. All starship guards they encounter should be considered hostile. They are to be disarmed or killed when encountered. Understood?”
“Yes, sir. Secure the nexus.”
“And Tohm, be quick about it. Smash the shuttles through a few bulkheads if it gets them here faster.”
“Understood sir.”
Katona let his hand drop from his com pod and turned to the centarch. “So Shaiken,” he said, emphasizing the centarch’s name. “Do you think my highly trained, battle hardened marines, can get here faster than your soft lazy guards?”
Shaiken’s hands widened, and his claws extended then retracted.
“No, I didn’t think so,” Katona said.
Shaiken pushed himself up from the chair awkwardly, then stood and faced them. He tapped a couple of controls on the floating screens, and two of the security fields around him dissolved, leaving just a light blue translucent energy barrier separating them.
Admiral Katona raised his carbine.
“I am not a fool admiral, fire if you wish. I only disabled the clima-field; the security screen is still active. The Doyenne wished to get the taste of you.”
Admiral Katona’s carbine sputtered, the field flashed, and a single flechette tinkled harmlessly to the floor.
The centarch took a few measured steps forward, his hands behind his back as if he was thoughtfully pacing. He approached the screen, then looked down at the sliver of metal. “So untrusting admiral, what happened to you?”
“I learned that for you, the truth is a slippery concept. With your clima-field down, your deceitfulness is stinging in my nostrils.”
Jon could smell something different in the air. Mixed in with the orange grove smell the admiral was giving off, was a cloying floral aroma. Was that the Ka-Li deception pheromone, or something coming from The Doyenne’s tendrils?
Then the admiral straightened, he lifted his carbine a little higher. “Your dishonorable deceit fills my nostrils, but there is something else.” He lifted his head, tasting the air. “Triumph? How can you be feeling triumphant?”
“Falsehoods may flow from my mouth like water from a stream, but emotions are much harder to control. Besides, why bother when a well tuned clima-field does a better job,” the centarch said.
“So that is how you escaped the winnowing.”
“Yes. My sire coached me as soon as it was apparent I had the gift.”
“The gift?” Katona shook himself with a shudder. “The ability to craft mistruths without suffering the normal physical effects us Ka-Li were engineered with, is no gift.”
“You should ask these humans you have become so fond of. They all deceive, mislead and lie with aplomb. It is as much a fundamental part of what they are, as honor is a part of us.”
“But they are not Ka-Li,” said the admiral. “You are. Why?”
“It’s been part of my bloodline for generations.”
“And that trait is kept? Fostered? You’re taught how to evade the winnowing? To what end?”
“These humans have a saying,” said the centarch. “In the land of the blind, the one eyed man is king. When you are part of the only bloodline who can manipulate the truth, a rise to power is inevitable.
“You see admiral, I have an advantage. I know you’re telling the truth about your marines. I know you believe they will beat the few sad remaining guards here. And I will defer to your judgment on that matter.”
“And now that your clima-field is down, I can tell the truth of things as well,” said Katona. “You may be able to lie to my face, but my nose gets to the truth of the matter. You are guilty of collusion, and dishonor. My challenge is warranted, and your time as centarch is at an end.”
“Well you may think so admiral.” The centarch gave an amused snort. “But when you’ve manipulated the truth as long as I have, you learn that when you’re trying to fool a Ka-Li nose, you have to cover up a small lie with a large one.”
“What are you talking about?”
“This,” said the centarch. With a blur he pulled one arm out from behind his back, producing a nasty looking pistol. It looked similar to the first Ka-Li pistol that Jon had ever seen, though it had extra spikes and attachments.
Before Jon could even register what was happening, the centarch aimed the pistol at Admiral Katona and fired straight through the security screen.
The pistol screamed like a big, nasty, wounded animal. Admiral Katona must have sensed something was wrong, because he dived to the right just as Shaiken fired, and instead of catching the stream of flechettes straight on, they hit his harness shield a glancing blow.
Katona’s shield glowed bright. It looked about to fail, such was the ferocity of the stream of bright metal. But it didn’t. The flechettes, bent by the shape of the field, sprayed off to the admiral’s left and behind him.
Unfortunately, that was right where Jon, Colonel Whitfield and the two Chonai were standing. And Colonel Whitfield, standing in front, caught the brunt of the deflected flechettes. The flechettes had lost a lot of their momentum bouncing off Katona’s shield, and if the colonel had still been wearing a red guard’s harness, he’d probably have been fine. But there wasn’t a shield on the plain civilian harness he had on.
The colonel crumpled to the floor like a deflated balloon.
Jon dropped to his side, but it only took a glance to see that the situation was hopeless. The flechettes had torn into the colonel’s gut, chest and throat, and he was slumped in an expanding pool of his own blood.
Ahm-Wat pulled Jon back and crouched in front of him. “No shield, you are not safe.”
Jon tore his eyes away from the hopeless sight of the colonel’s lifeless corpse and looked up. It only took him a moment to realize what had happened. The centarch was still holding the pistol up, but he’d pushed it through the security screen.
And, he was putting salvo after salvo of flechettes into the admiral.
Jon had seen security screens in operation, he’d seen them deflect or stop bullets and flechettes. But at the same time, he’d also reached out and grabbed a spinning Murdoch through both their security screens. Like every other galactic field, they could be tuned and adjusted.
Without really thinking about it, Jon reached down to his harness controls and engaged the grav-compensator. He set it at the first stop, the same level of gravity as the jungle chamber. The centarch was about ten meters away, but between his heavy gravity adapted muscles, and assistance from the compensator, he’d make the distance easily.
“Brace me,” he said to Ahm-Wat, as he coiled himself like a tiger. The Chonai knew instinctively what he was about to do and dropped, giving him a solid platform to push off.
What A
hm-Wat wouldn’t have expected though, was that just before Jon leapt he slipped the Chonai’s knife out of its sheath. Before Ahm-Wat could react, Jon pushed off using every ounce of strength in his legs.
Jon arrowed through the air. The centarch was still concentrating on the admiral, and didn’t see the threat until Jon was at the apogee of his leap. To Jon, everything seemed to move in slow motion. The centarch’s eyes found his, then his pistol started tracking towards Jon.
But Jon was moving too fast, and the centarch had noticed him too late.
Jon reached out midair, and batted the pistol away with one hand, just as it swung to bear on him. Then he sailed through the security shield with his other hand holding the wicked Chonai knife straight out in front of him. Like a human javelin, he speared the centarch in the throat before hitting him with his full weight and driving him to the floor in a tangle of flailing limbs.
— 65 —
Jon knew before he’d even hit the ground that the centarch was dead. Ahm-Wat’s knife was razor sharp, and it had penetrated deep. As they’d fallen, Jon had ripped the knife free, expecting he’d need it again. Ka-Li were notoriously hard to kill. As he’d done, so the centarch had twisted, and Jon had all but decapitated him.
Jon disentangled himself from the centarch’s lifeless corpse and stood. Blood pooled around the dead Ka-Li. Ahm-Wat and the admiral both stood as well. Then Admiral Katona walked slowly towards him passing through the security screen.
Ka-Li expressions were still mostly a mystery to Jon, he knew a couple, smile and laugh, but the admiral wasn’t expressing those. Instead, Katona stood close and bowed his head low, like a naughty schoolboy looking at his feet.
“Patron.” Was all he said.
Jon looked down. The pool of the centarch’s blood was spreading. It came into contact first with Jon’s boots, then oozed further on to touch the admiral’s.
