“What do you think the Founders would do if they found out?”
“The Skaperians think they will simply ask for reparations and a return of their property.” Bitterness flooded Bei’s mouth. The Syn-En had been treated better right up until the United Earth Nations ordered him and his cyborg soldiers exterminated.
“Reparations in what? I didn’t think anyone used money anymore.”
In the corridor, crewmen stepped aside to let them pass. Most looked straight ahead, a few glanced at Nell’s flat stomach.
“In planetary resources.” Bei picked up a discordant ripple in the Wireless Array. Smiley face emicons mingled with storm clouds of worry. His crew knew of Nell’s clearance for pregnancy and feared the outcome of this encounter. He sent a salve of determination on the turmoil. Captain Pennig and Chief Medical Officer Los Alamos Cabo added theirs to the mix.
Doc Cabo also sent a red faced emicon. Sorry, Admiral. I thought my files would be safe since you locked the WA.
Locked, but not disabled. After a lifetime of hiding their emotions, the Syn-En still weren’t accustomed to displaying emotions only expressing them in cyberspace.
Nell rolled her eyes and punched the call button for the elevator. “It’s not like they wouldn’t have found out anyway. They are our family.”
“Indeed.” Although, Bei would have liked to keep it to himself for just a bit longer.
The doors opened. A woman looked up. She blinked at the pair of them before stumbling from the elevator. “Excuse me.”
“Not at all.” Nell smiled and sauntered inside.
Bei’s systems flashed a warning. What was his wife up to? Her stream of thought contained more lightning bolts and pitchforks than thoughts. Following her inside the elevator, he leaned against the wall and pulled her flush against him. “What are you thinking?”
An ensign drew up short as the doors started to close.
“Take the next one.” Leaning back, Nell stabbed the close door button. Her blue eyes narrowed. “I’m thinking the next time we have five minutes together, there will be no negotiating, no foreplay, no nothing, but you and me, naked and not talking, got it?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He slanted his mouth across hers. His tongue traced the curved of her lips. She fisted his shirt and climbed up his chest.
The door opened.
He swallowed her groan. Desire steamed around him. He initiated his arctic subroutine.
Her jaw flexed. “Cheater.”
“Sometimes, it’s good to be the Syn-En leader.” He winked before escorting her onto the circular bridge.
“Yeah, well, it sucks to be the piss boy.” Crossing her arms, she grinned.
Referencing one of her favorite movies always calmed her and watching them gave him something to do while she slept in his arms.
She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
Bei smoothed his features. Banding the circular hull, the forward view screens displayed the stars, planets and moons in front of them. Syn-Ens manned the com, navigation and tactical hubs behind him. Each cyborg, hardwired into the ship’s systems through the fiber optic cable embedded in their cerebral interface, controlled their stations with a thought.
Captain Pennig rose from the chair in the center of the room. Gray fringed his round head. Age yellowed patches of his NDA. Despite his years, his movements were fluid thanks to his ninth-generation prostheses. “They’re standing by, Admiral.” Bug-ugly doesn’t like to be kept waiting for a bunch of inferior humans.
The official log recorded only what was spoken. Commentary lived and died in the WA.
Then let’s keep him waiting a minute longer. Clasping his hands behind his back, Bei stood next to the vacant chair. “Which of the species is it?”
“Scraptor.” Pennig resumed his seat and uncoiled the nest of fiber optics at his nape. Blue light pulsed through the line when he jacked into the Combat Information Center.
“The jack-booted thugs of the universe.” Nell activated the medical hub.
Personal comments in the WA only, wife. Bei jerked his head at the recorders, a new requirement of the Erwar Codicils.
Nell stuck out her tongue at him.
He shook his head. Technically, she was duly elected to act as liaison between Humans and their allies. She was supposed to obey his orders. Of course, as his wife, she outranked him. And he wasn’t about to let her out of his sight. Bad things happened when they were separated. And the Founders were responsible for the latest. He stared at the screen. Bug-ugly doesn’t even begin to describe the Scraptors.
Pennig snorted. It’s a start. Besides, there are young ones in the WA. Other words wouldn’t be appropriate.
No, but they would be accurate. Report, all stations.
Nell clamped her lips together. Anxiety reported from our rescued people. Authorized life-signs show readiness for whatever.
Bei sincerely hoped whatever never happened.
Navigation and com reported all in readiness.
The Syn-En ensign at the tactical hub clenched and unclenched his hands. His Adam’s apple protruded from his scrawny neck. Founders weapons are hot. Ours are on standby. The ensign’s lips twitched. I can still beat them to the draw, Admiral.
Obviously, Bei wasn’t the only one to spend his down time watching old Earth video clips. Excellent job. All personnel await further orders. “Hail the Founders’ ship, Captain.”
The com beeped. Pennig’s hands relaxed on the arm rests. “Hailing ship.”
A red Scraptor materialized on the forward view screens. Onyx rounds glittered at the top of his eyestalks. Mandibles peeled away from razor-sharp teeth. “Admiral Beijing. How kind of you to keep me waiting only five Earth minutes.”
Bei shunted the voice print to the CIC for confirmation, but he didn’t need it. He would never forget the gravely inflection or the arrogance. “Groat.”
“I am flattered you remembered me.” Groat raised one mammoth claw to his bullet-shaped head. When he shuffled backward, the com zoomed out. The Scraptors resembled Earth scorpions. Hardened armor gave their eight limbs a segmented appearance. An oversized tail allowed them to walk on two legs and could inject their victims with poison from the stinger. Claws formed the top set of limbs, then human-like hands, and lastly limbs, ending in sword-sharp points.
“You made an impression, Groat.” All of it bad. Bei cracked his knuckles. “Since I don’t think this encounter is an unfortunate accident, why don’t you state your purpose?”
Groat chuckled. His human hand massaged his claw. “Soldiers like us have no time for social niceties.”
The Syn-En have nothing in common with that scum bucket. Period. End of discussion. Nell activated subspace scans. She overlaid them with information from their previous encounters with the Scraptors. Humanoid. Bipedal. Their internal anatomy was hazy, but their vulnerable points had been protected.
The energy weapon at Groat’s hip was an upgrade. Guess the little encounter on Erwar had an effect after all.
The tactical ensign seized the data. Sending information to engineering now.
Not so much as a muscle twitched while Bei waited.
Groat’s mandibles contracted. “I am invoking Section Ten, Article Sixteen beta of the Erwar Consortium policies and procedures.” His hand dropped to his weapon. “Prepare to be boarded.”
Chapter 2
After making his announcement, the bug-ugly Groat severed communications.
Nell glared at the black screen banding the forward section of the bridge. Silver threads snaked along the veins of her hands and climbed her wrists. Great, she was a Human mood ring. She inhaled to a count of four then exhaled. The color didn’t recede. Probably wouldn’t until this threat passed. She tugged her sleeves down her arms. “The Founders and their minions can’t just say they’re going to board us, then do it. Don’t they need a search warrant or something?”
She knew the Syn-En were trying to contact him ag
ain. The brain box at the base of her skull tingled. Her husband had opened the Wireless Array to communicate internally with his men. And she’d been dragged along.
Bei’s almond-shaped eyes lasered on her. His blue irises darkened to cobalt as part of his consciousness merged with cyberspace. “According to the Erwar Codicils, the Founders can board any newly declared sentient species’ vessel.”
“How convenient.” Her fingers flew over the LED keyboard on the health hub embedded in the hull of the circular bridge.
Bracketing her, the nav and tactical hubs displayed innocuous schematics on the screen. But the light pulsing along the fiberoptic cables of their Syn-En operators gave away the deception. The Syn-En were girding themselves for battle.
Her stomach clenched. And her husband would lead the fight. Nell’s hands changed to silver gloves. She quickly powered down her station and clasped her metallic mitts behind her back.
A muscle ticked in Bei’s jaw and he arched one jet-black eyebrow.
He knew about her anxiety. Of course, he knew. Even if the color change hadn’t given her away, he sensed her mood swings before she did. Just as she did his. The whoo-whoo power had its uses. And its drawbacks. She flashed her shiny palms. “I still think the Founders should need a reason to board us.”
One, hopefully, that didn’t include the liberated slaves stowed around Bei’s starship.
He glanced at a spot near him. “The section cited is about the Founders’ moral obligation to guide new sentients.”
“Right.” Nell snorted. “Why don’t they just say they come in peace like all the other evil aliens from B-movies?”
Sitting in the bulky chair in the center of the room, Captain Pennig scratched the fringe of gray hair ringing his scalp. “They may not be familiar with Earth entertainment. Ergo, they do not know their expected lines.”
“That’s not exactly comforting.” She slogged across the deck. Her boots scuffed the metal grating. Underneath, lights and relays blinked and glowed.
“Admiral.” The ensign at the tactical hub shoved an image onto the forward screens. Youth filled out his dark features. “A shuttle has departed the Founders’ dreadnaught. Five Scraptors aboard. I’m detecting side arms and particle rifles. ETA in ten minutes.”
Bei held out his hand. “Not a raiding party.”
“Thank God.” She closed the distance between them. Her palm slid against his. Her skin prickled in awareness and memories flooded in—of him and her with nothing but skin between them.
Sucking in a breath, Bei squeezed her hand. “You’re not helping.”
Of course, she was. She’d masked the life signs of their unauthorized passengers.
Captain Pennig shifted on his seat. “I can delay their arrival an extra five minutes. Those thoughts are distracting.”
“Oh God.” She was broadcasting to everyone! Everyone.
The Syn-Ens at the hubs giggled.
Her face flushed. Instead of turning red, she knew her skin had changed to silver. Too bad the NDA wouldn’t just dissolve her and reconstitute her somewhere else. Siberia should be nice this time of year.
Wrapping his free arm around her, Bei kissed her forehead.
Her limbs filled with warmth. Her shoulders relaxed. The biting desire settled into a simmer. Bei was always calm while she raged. She clung to his black tunic and buried her nose in his neck. His spicy scent filled her. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She pressed her lips to his jaw before straightening. They were in this together. “So what’s the plan?”
Captain Pennig straightened in his chair. “I have the Amarook shielding standing by. If they find our cargo, we can enable it.”
The tactical Syn-En zoomed in on the enemy dreadnaught. “Six missiles should punch through the hard points, then we can torpedo their fusion engines.” He pointed first to the cargo holds in the center of the fuselage then the glowing round balls of the reactors. “No witnesses, no cause for war.”
Nell stiffened. “Blowing up somebody’s ship is an act of war.” Geez, hadn’t they watched any of the Star Trek episodes she’d recommended? “If the Scraptors find our cargo, why don’t we just bash them over the head, cloak our ship with the Amarook shield, and split.”
Every Syn-En on the bridge stiffened.
She even felt the snap, crackle, and pop worm through her brain box.
Emotion smoothed from Bei’s wide cheekbones. “You want us to run from a fight?”
“No, I want you to advance in the opposite direction.”
“Retreat.” Pennig spat.
The Syn-Ens at the hubs glared at her.
“When you say it like that, it sounds bad.” Setting back, she clasped Bei’s hand in hers. The silver flowed from her skin to his, binding them in gossamer threads. “But it isn’t. Not really.”
Bei’s eyes narrowed. “We are Syn-En. We fight. We make a stand. It’s who we are. It’s what we do.”
If he said it was in their programming, she’d slap him silly.
His lips parted in shock.
Dammit. She’d forgotten he could read her thoughts in the WA. Too bad he couldn’t make sense of the jumble inside her skull. Then he’d understand. She had to make him understand. Unfortunately, logic had never been her strong suit. She inhaled a calming breath. “Destroying the Founders’ battleship would cause a war.”
The tactical ensign rolled his eyes. “Not if they never found the wreckage.”
Nell ignored him. “Groat is the Founders head Bug-ugly. If they didn’t send him here on an unrelated mission, then he’s bound to have reported in that his scans turned up something suspicious. The Founders will know where he is and with whom.”
“How will running away help?” Bei smoothed her cheek.
She leaned into his touch for a minute. This is why she married him. He was always willing to listen. “We tell them our bubble drive malfunctioned, cargo came loose and smacked ‘em upside the head. While they’re out, we transfer our guests to another vessel. They can’t convict us without evidence.”
Captain Pennig swiveled in his chair. He rubbed his age spotted chin. “We can come up with something that would provide their scans with false readings.”
“Groat would be discredited. Again.” Bei’s lips pulled away from his teeth.
Nell shivered. Little Red Riding Hood’s grandmother probably saw something similar before she died. “Couldn’t happen to a nicer Bug-ugly.”
Her husband’s death grimace softened into a smile. A real one. Even his eyes twinkled. “We can spin it as an act of aggression on the Founders part. Might even convince some of the undecided sentients to join the Neo-Sentient Alliance.”
“More allies would be helpful.” Captain Pennig grinned. “Tell me, Nell Stafford. Did you just share a movie line with us or is some of our Syn-En cunning rubbing off on you?”
She tossed back her shoulders. “I do have original thoughts, you know.”
And she wasn’t exactly keen on thinking like a Syn-En. She’d much rather look at someone and take their measure than think of a hundred ways to kill them.
Bei leaned forward. “A hundred and sixty-seven, now.”
She smacked his shoulder. “That’s not funny.”
“No. It isn’t.” He set her hand on his arm. “Let’s greet our guests.”
She wiggled her silver fingers. “Maybe I should bow out of this one.”
“Absolutely not.” He guided her to the elevators. “I want to remind Groat that there’s more to humanity that it appears.”
“More to him, too.” Even on maximum setting, their scans had barely penetrated the Scraptor’s hard shell. Her nails dug into Bei’s arm. “What do you think they are hiding under that armor?”
“Their vulnerabilities.” The doors swished open and he ushered her into the elevator. “We do know that under their exoskeleton, they are soft flesh and fragile bones.”
“Maybe that’s some kind of formless goo and under
their helmets, there’s a giant cockroach working the rest of the body.”
Bei pushed the button to the docking bay.
“It could happen.” She’d seen it in a movie. “I kinda like the idea of squishing the real Groat under my shoe.”
“I could crush him as is.” Her husband flexed his arm. The small muscle belied the strength of his prosthetic limbs. “Just say the word.”
He would, too, if she asked. But she wouldn’t. The Syn-Ens’ fledgling alliance with the Skaperians and Amarooks couldn’t take on the Founders. Not yet. But everyone knew war was coming.
Everyone knew the Syn-En would be the first on the battle lines. Bei would lead the charge.
And she would be at his side. She smoothed her tunic over her stomach. Perhaps, now was not the best time to consider bringing a child into the world. The elevator glided to a stop. Perhaps, there wouldn’t be another opportunity. Rising up on her toes, she kissed his cheek. “I love you.”
“This is just the beginning, not the end.”
#
Nell fidgeted beside Bei. How could ten minutes last so long?
Two lone Starflight shuttles crouched like sleeping beetles in the far corner of the hangar. The Cardinals Stadium could fit in the rest and still have room for a handful of behemoth recreational vehicles. Gunmetal gray ribs arched over the space. Curvy Skaperian technology mingled with the harsh angles and planes of Earth technology. Security orbs hovered near the ceiling. Blinking green lights indicated they recorded the scene.
Stationed like fence pickets, two dozen security officers lined the inner bulkheads. The NDA in the clothes and skin camouflaged them and their weapons perfectly. With a whirl of gears, the hull peeled away. Boxy wardens punctured the sparkly energy barrier holding in the atmosphere, before they crawled on spidery legs inside. Syn-En crouched inside the repair drones, preparing to stun the Scraptors with a few blasts from their Torp-67 should the stowaways be discovered.
The com crackled, then Captain Pennig spoke. “Founders are on final approach. ETA in forty-five seconds.”
“Roger that.” Bei rolled his shoulders.
The double doors behind them snicked open.
Syn-En: Plague World: The Founders War Begins Page 2
