by Damon Alan
Two aides waited in the corridor outside Sachelle’s room, waiting for him to tell them her disposition.
“Clean her up, give her respectable clothing, and any medical care she needs. Put her up in diplomatic quarters, and limit her movements to the diplomatic suites.”
“Yes, Lord Komi,” they replied in unison.
“And see to it she’s treated luxuriously, respectfully, and carefully,” he added.
“Carefully, Lord Komi?” one asked.
“Yes. She’s a wolverine, this one. We must bathe her in our good will, but she will, until she believes good behavior will benefit her in the long run, seek to even the score with us over her torture. Two guards might not be enough. Put four guards on her, and double the watch in the diplomatic suites.”
“Right away, Lord Komi,” one of them said as they turned to leave.
“Oh, and one more thing…”
“Yes, Lord?”
“If she escapes the suites, I will have you both executed.”
They paled, bowed, and shuffled away.
It was an unfortunate fact that sometimes only the threat of death would raise performance to a satisfactory level. He wondered if Palia would be interested in a bet regarding whether Sachelle killed any of her attendants or not. She probably wouldn’t, since she’d have to take the position of Sachelle not killing anyone. That was counter to his position as well, so no bet.
It would be an interesting topic for dinner, regardless. Maybe they could bet on how long it would be before the first dead body made an appearance.
Chapter 32 - Terror in the Dark
24 Seppet 15332
“Captain, we’re receiving something on the civilian channels I think you need to see,” Seto said to Sarah.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Live holovid, sir, other than the lightspeed delay. I, uh, I can put it on main screen if you like, although you might want to see this yourself.”
“Main screen is fine, Mister Seto,” Sarah responded. “This crew has clearance to see what I see.”
Seto put the signal, started from the beginning of interception, up for everyone to view.
The image on screen was a room of people, men, women and children. More a hall than a room. The people were sitting, facing a stage, as if they were waiting to see a play. “This is the Komi Planetary Command. The image you see before you is being repeated in twelve cities across Mindari. These are citizens of Mindari, randomly selected by lottery, present under authority of the military occupation.”
The curtain on the stage began to open.
Behind it was a large wooden box, which the audience was trying to get a better view of. The sides of the boxes fell away, and four modified loading machines stood up, their tracks maneuvering them to four different points on the stage. They unfolded their arms, and instead of manipulating attachments, they had automatic fléchette guns.
“Harmeen’s gods, no,” Sarah whispered.
The machines opened fire.
The people in the front were destroyed immediately, those further back in the hall had time to run for the doors. The doors were closed, and did not open even under the pressure of hundreds of civilians pressing the barriers to save their own lives.
Sarah stood up, unstrapping from her gravcouch, her eyes focused on the screen. She could feel her face contorting with rage, and a barely controlled urge to scream her horror.
It was over. Blood ran down the central aisles of the hall, more blood than Sarah had ever seen in one place. Nobody moved among the bodies, nobody moaned. The fléchettes used by the Komi were heart seekers, extraordinarily expensive, and extraordinarily effective.
As the camera panned over the bodies, the announcer spoke again.
“This is the third and last of these warnings. The Alliance is not coming to save you. Work slowdowns, sabotage, assaults on Komi citizens, these will no longer be tolerated. Each and every offense that happens, we will execute another ten thousand Mindari citizens at a minimum. Compliance with the occupation is your only duty now, your only concern.”
A new screen appeared, and four Komi warships approached a point in space.
The announcer continued. “We are the Komi, and you cannot overcome our forces. If you comply, your children born ten standard years from now will be Komi citizens with full rights, and Mindari will begin to heal. If you resist, you have no future.”
The warships passed close by the camera, a soldier waved from a gun turret portal.
“We can be your friends. Or we can be your end.”
The transmission ended.
Harmeen looked at Sarah. The pain and outrage on his face was mixed with a look that was almost pleading. Probably wondering what her response would be.
She wished she knew the proper response. Not many things left her uncertain of an appropriate action, but this was beyond anything she’d ever seen from any human government.
“I know what we just saw has you all in emotional turmoil,” she said to her bridge crew, as calmly as she could. “It has me in the same state. That is why I’m going to take a few hours to think of what our response will be. The Komi have a hammer with which to hit the people of Mindari, and it hits us as well. Animals don’t behave this badly. I will need some time.”
“Do you want me to inform the bridge of the Stennis?” Seto asked.
“For Kuo and Heinrich only,” Sarah answered. “They can decide if they want the rest of their crew to see it. I wish I’d listened to you, Halani, but I didn’t. I should have spared some of you that experience.”
“We’ll support you in any way we can, sir,” Algiss said.
“I’m well aware. I’ll be in my quarters until I process this.”
Sarah left the bridge and sixty seconds later was in her bunk, staring at the ceiling.
I sense—
“Not now, Salphan,” she said, cutting him off. She knew he’d hear her.
He didn’t say anything else, and she lay there, floating in her zero G webbing, weeping at her own impotence to save Mindari.
As she wept, the sorrow began to pass, replaced with a deep underlying hatred the likes of which she’d never felt before.
Only Merik had ever come close.
This has gone on long enough, she thought.
She rose from her bed, dressed herself in a combat jumpsuit, strapped a fléchette pistol to her side and headed toward the hatch.
Chapter 33 - Rage
24 Seppet 15332
Alarin met the admiral near the docking collar for the shuttle. The Sheffaris was too small to have an internal shuttle, but it carried one externally for use by the admiral or other officers.
He stood in front of her as she moved toward the lock.
“Get out of my way, Alarin. I have a Komi to kill for his war crimes and a friend to rescue,” she spat out. He could feel the outrage burning her soul and her rationality, and knew she wasn’t herself at that moment. Normally calm and collected, something had finally pushed Sarah Dayson to her breaking point.
Salphan rounded the corridor corner just as she finished speaking. He was trying to control his movements and keep up with her in the lack of gravity. The older adept failed spectacularly and hit the lock hard, knocking the wind out of his lungs.
“Sarah—” Alarin began.
Salphan called out to her, despite his struggle to breathe. Alarin wondered if the skilled battle adept was using the gift to move his diaphragm since he’d hit the wall so hard. “Sarah Dayson, you’re in no condition to make a rational decision at this moment. You will stop and talk to Alarin and me.” Ragged breathing followed, until he straightened his body and scowled as Sarah spun toward him.
“Don’t you think that at me!” Salphan exclaimed, clearly shocked by whatever he’d gotten from her. “I’ve done everything in the world… that’s not the right word. The universe to protect you! And now you will listen to me or I swear to Faroo and Jalai I will pin you to the ceiling and watch you kick the
air.”
Salphan touched her arm to turn her toward him.
And for the first time to Alarin’s knowledge, Sarah Dayson exhibited violence at a personal level. In a remarkable display of her mastery of zero gravity, she drop kicked Salphan straight down the corridor toward the other side of the ship.
Alarin felt confusion, a sense of betrayal, and physical pain explode in Salphan’s mind, and he wouldn’t be surprised if Emille was feeling it too.
Sarah froze.
“Harmeen’s gods, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m—” she stammered.
Alarin started to move toward her, to comfort his friend, but a voice in his head stopped him dead in his tracks.
No.
It was Emille. Let Salphan and her work this out. Trust me.
Alarin turned his back toward Sarah, and was surprised to see two crewman coming down the corridor toward the commotion. “Turn around and go back the way you came,” Alarin ordered as he pointed the way. “This event is private.”
That may have sounded silly, but it did the job. Or fear of an angry adept did. Either way was fine.
As Alarin looked over his shoulder Salphan was dragging himself along the wall conduits with one arm. His other arm was clearly broken.
I have nullified the pain, Salphan thought to him. But it is taking up a big part of my concentration. Please take it from me so I can help her.
Alarin did as asked, and immediately saw why Salphan would be distracted. It wasn’t Emille’s childbirth bad, but Sarah had hurt the older adept. As if burning for her hadn’t been enough, the battle master was suffering again. He didn’t think she even knew it yet. Her face was buried in her hands, she rotated in space with her legs drawn up.
Alarin took the full brunt of the pain on himself.
Share with me, Emille said as she took the sharpness away from him.
“I wondered if you had a breaking point,” Salphan said to Sarah as he stopped her rotation. “I could sense how torn up you were from destroying the suns of your home.” He pulled her close with one arm. “I should have come to help you sooner. This is my fault.”
That was a ridiculous statement. How was it Salphan’s fault?
Alarin started to object when Emille shut him down again.
If you say a word, I will cook your tongue. Salphan knows her mind. He loves her, meathead. Let him take care of her.
That stopped him from intervening. I have sensed his affection before, but you think he loves her like a mate?
He’s my father’s battle master. And you don’t know this, but for years was my father’s personal guard. I grew up with him, he’s almost like an uncle to me. The assignment to New Korvand as ambassador, it was a reward, a chance to share the comfortable lives the newcomers live. No more toiling. Salphan is a remarkable adept of his own right, but he’s not me. His emotion for her leaks out every time he sees her. But you aren’t always sensitive to such things.
Alarin didn’t answer. He watched Sarah recover herself. Salphan held her to his chest like a treasured friend would. Alarin knew in that instant Emille was right. Again.
Tsungte’s curses, Alarin thought. How did I not see this?
Just watch.
“I hurt you,” Sarah said to Salphan. “I’ve never—”
“It’s nothing that can’t be fixed,” Salphan said. “You’re taking too much on your shoulders. I will go with you to recover your friend.”
“You can’t do that. If we’re captured you wouldn’t get the drug you need to keep you from dying here,” she shot back forcefully at him, suddenly looking indignant as if astounded he would suggest putting his life at risk.
“And you have now said exactly why you should not go. If the Komi took you alive, they’d have too much leverage over your people and mine. None of us could stand to see you abused,” Salphan told her.
“I’m too—”
“You’re not too anything. You’re a human, just like me, just like your friend that the Komi are torturing. Alone you could be captured, but with me… well, let’s just say that I won’t let them capture either one of us,” Salphan promised. “And neither will Emille, trust me. Faroo’s rage would descend on the Komi if they tried to do something like that.”
“You religious nut,” Sarah said with a half-hearted smile. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
“You heretic,” Salphan replied pulling her closer.
“I assaulted you. I’ll stand for charges.”
“You’ll do nothing,” he ordered. “I hurt myself coming down the hallway after you. I need to learn how to move when I don’t have a ground to walk on.”
“I know it was me,” she scowled. “I lost it.”
“Let’s see, Sarah,” Salphan said. “You have lost all family you’ve ever had. You’ve had crew after crew, who you’ve thought of as family, killed out from under you again and again, you’ve been betrayed by a small portion of that same crew family, then you had to kill innocents to deal with traitors. You discovered that you’re part of a group with the power to destroy stars, you and your closest friends have made the decision to save humanity by putting a huge portion of it at risk, and you just had to blow up the place where you grew up and learned all your personal values that make you so great. On top of that there is the… well, that thing you said I am to keep to myself.”
What thing? Alarin asked Emille.
I don’t know. Salphan is impenetrable on this.
Salphan paused to breathe, something he was still having a hard time with. “And now one of your best friends is being tortured to get at you, and you heard someone whose strength you greatly respect collapse inside of a minute,” he concluded. “I think you are allowed one breakdown after all that.”
“No, I am not,” she insisted, tears flowing again.
“Yes, you are.” He spun her more toward him. “From now on, you share the burden with me. Together, our minds will deal with the atrocities, the insults to reason.”
“Why are you doing this?” she asked. “You saved me at Jerna, and now this. Why?”
“We’ll talk about that some other time,” he said. “For now, you need a period of rest. Your friend can wait twenty-four hours, and then you and I will go get her if you still think that is the path to take. We’ll be prepared, and we’ll get it done.”
“Okay,” Sarah said, surrendering to Salphan’s will.
Alarin could sense her trust in Salphan. The depth of it surprised him. Maybe sharing so much bonded time during her healing at the hospital had shown her the man’s character, the integrity inside the person who now embraced her.
Salphan gestured to Alarin to help him. “We need to get her to quarters so she can rest and let these events get some distance. She’ll be clear tomorrow.”
“I’ll help you,” Alarin said so Sarah could hear it. “She’s too important to carry this burden alone anymore. We’re all harbingers of doom, not just her. We’ll all have blood on our hands. All of the adepts. All of the newcomers.”
One of the crew medics looked on from down the corridor, and Alarin waved her closer. “Make her sleep,” he ordered.
When Sarah didn’t resist the idea, the medic shot something into her arm, and seconds later his friend was out cold.
“She’s got more difficulty than you know,” Salphan said to Alarin in Zeffulti. “I promised not to tell. But even with that difficulty, she nearly killed me just now.”
“I’ve sensed a change in her, an anger at herself. I’m not asking you to break your promise and tell me her secret, she’ll tell me when she’s ready,” Alarin said to him. “As far as her kicking you, that is your embarrassment to carry. One of Edolhirr’s private guard taken down by an ungifted woman. Not a very big one either.”
“If you tell Master Edolhirr, we duel,” Salphan said, laughing. Now that Sarah was out of danger, the moment grew more lighthearted between the two adepts. “You can return my pain to me now, my friend. I will still laugh at your weak humor.”
T
he sensation of the broken arm flooded away from Alarin and Emille.
I’m glad to see you unburdened from pain, Emille thought to Alarin. We both know you can’t deal with it. You’re a pampered leader.
I will deal with your insolence shortly, Second Adept, he answered.
She shared with him the sound of her mirth. Apparently keeping Sarah safe had lifted all of their spirits. They were all relieved that Sarah’s break had only been momentary. She was letting them take care of her now.
“Thank you,” Salphan said, his tone indicating he felt his injuries again. “I meant what I said. She no longer carries things alone. Edolhirr may have retired me due to my age, but I will serve her. She is even more worthy and needy than my former liege.”
You were supposed to retire, Emille thought so they could both hear.
The battle master huffed. “Salphan doesn’t stand by and let the world turn him.”
“I never thought that about you,” Alarin said. “But clearly, for some reason, Emille and Edolhirr care about you and don’t want you to kill yourself in some foolish act of bravado.”
“And you are not much different, Zeffulti,” the older adept said as they got to the admiral’s quarters. “You, with your mild and friendly ways, you seek to move the world around you to your vision. Which is why you’ve grown on me, despite my expectations otherwise.”
“What?” Alarin asked.
“Nobody is good enough for Emille, but you’ll have to do,” Salphan said, his face completely straight. “Since my expectations were so low to start with.”
The two adepts stared at each other for a minute, then started laughing.
Idiots, Emille told them both.
“Sir, your arm,” the medic said. “I have nanites that will—”
“In a moment,” Salphan responded, switching back to Galactic Standard. “After I see to her.”
Once Alarin and the medic were alone in the corridor outside of the admiral’s quarters, he looked at the young woman. “Check her for a brain tumor,” he said. “I never thought I’d see Sarah Dayson emotionally out of control.”
