Dark Star Rising

by Bennett R. Coles

  The second Aquan rolled up to the nearest chest. He clamped his mouth around a control stick and a mechanical appendage extended from the outside of the coffin. It moved with care to unlatch the chest and flip open the top. As promised, it was full of white crystals. The appendage extended a tiny suction tube, and a moment later the fish rippled its lips. A deep rumble passed between the two Aquans and the chest lid was closed.

  “There are many among us who do not differentiate between Humans,” the headmaster said. “Yet the Sectoids assure us that you are fighting different schools among yourselves.”

  “In this case, yes. I serve the Emperor, and it is his wish to stop Dark Star.”

  “Dark Star is taking control of all Human trade with us in several systems.” A small hatch popped open on the top of his deputy’s coffin and a fist-sized lump of metal appeared. “This data block gives exact dates and locations of instances where our people were injured or killed.”

  At Riverton’s nod, Liam reached out and took the data block. It was heavy, and still wet, but after a quick examination he saw how it would connect to Daring’s systems.

  “We know that Dark Star’s school intends to strike against your school very soon. We can tell by the shipments they command from us that they want to load a great many ships, and we see more Humans and Theropods gathering with weapons.”

  “Have you heard a location for this strike?”

  “The name Honoria is whispered. Why would they strike a planet with so little water?”

  “I don’t know,” Riverton said smoothly. “But you think it will happen soon?”

  “The deadlines Dark Star has given our merchants suggest mass departure in three weeks.”

  “Then we will act immediately.”

  “You will bring Dark Star to justice?” the headmaster asked.

  “As quickly as possible,” Riverton replied. “It is our sole mission.”

  “And then you will take over the commerce in these systems?”

  She paused. Liam glanced at her, noting the furrow of her brow.

  “The commerce will fall under the power of the Emperor again,” she said carefully. “But it will be open to any law-abiding merchant.”

  A series of low rumbles passed between the two coffins.

  “Speaker Two-Seven-One spoke very highly of you,” the headmaster finally said. “We had hoped you would control the Humans.”

  A Sectoid speaker praising Riverton to the Aquans? Liam couldn’t think of a stranger compliment.

  “I will ensure that the Emperor’s laws are obeyed,” she said. “As will my fellow officers. The threat will pass and trade can continue as before.”

  “I understand. Fare well in your hunt, Captain.”

  “Thank you, Headmaster. I wish you clear and swift seas.”

  The two Aquans turned sharply away, their guards forming up with them as they grasped the salt chests with side-mounted hooks and rolled through the open cargo door into the dim light of the airlock tunnel. Or waterlock tunnel, Liam supposed it was to them.

  He glanced at the data block in his hand as the cargo door started to close.

  “I’ll begin examining this information immediately, ma’am.”

  “Keep your findings between you and me,” she said. “If anyone asks, just tell them that this info supports what we already thought, and that the plan is unchanged.”

  He glanced at Sky and Butcher, still loitering out of earshot at opposite ends of the cargo bay.

  “I’ll do nothing to discourage the spy, ma’am.”

  The cargo door banged to a close. Moments later it creaked as water started to press against it on the outside.

  “We need to sort this out,” Riverton muttered, “and fast. If what the Aquans are saying is true, the clock is already ticking. And we have three weeks until Dark Star is ready to strike at the Empire’s heart.”

  Chapter 10

  The quiet, steady routine of a ship at sea continued. Passing ships were noted and tracked, but Daring kept her distance. The watch rotations turned over like clockwork, the crew working industriously but comfortably to keep the ship clean, trim, and in fighting shape. Evening dinners in the senior mess were pleasant affairs, and the quality of the food remained surprisingly high, even as the fresh food disappeared and rations were brought out, thanks to the culinary expertise of Bella and Sam.

  Then, on the evening before their landfall at Morassia, as he entered the captain’s cabin for his regular report, Liam sensed the mood change.

  Riverton was pacing in the tiny space, not even trying to hide her agitation from him as he shut the door and stepped forward.

  “I’ve received word,” she said simply, pointing to a message on the screen of her workstation.

  Liam read the signal, sent via a secure, diplomatic channel that would be impossible for Daring’s bridge to decode. It was terse, with only three items of information, but clear. His stomach churned.

  “They’re certain?” he asked cautiously. “There’s no possibility this is an error?”

  “One hundred percent. The choice of words indicates that this is a firsthand account.” She thrust a printed report at him. “And I discovered this, sent from our ship a day after you planted the seed.”

  He scanned it. “Then we know who the spy is.”

  “The traitor, you mean?”

  His first instinct was to offer a defense, but the words died in his throat. One of his own crew, secretly feeding information to Silverhawk.

  “Why?” Riverton asked.

  “Let’s arm ourselves, ma’am,” he said, “and go find out.”

  Liam had descended the ladders to Two Deck countless times, but never with such a heavy heart. His saber clicked against his hip as he stepped down to the deck and his hand instinctively reached to check the holstered pistol. Riverton climbed down behind him, her expression dark.

  “I suggest you do the talking, XO,” she said. “I’m not sure I can remain ladylike.”

  Liam looked down the deserted passageway. The door to the senior mess was closed and if the usual nightly routine had been followed their target would have left right after Liam. Less than ten minutes had passed since he’d concluded dinner, so the target would still be awake. He stepped aft, eyeing the names on the cabin doors.

  He knocked. The unconcerned reply to enter sounded through the wood. Gripping his pistol, he opened the door and stepped through, Riverton close behind.

  Ava Templegrey was dressed in her white uniform shirt and trousers, her hair hanging loose as she put down the last of her fasteners on a small vanity. Her eyes scanned between her two visitors, all expression dropping from her face. Her gaze went down to the weapons, then back up. Her lips moved slightly, eyes blinking rapidly as she tried to compose herself.

  “To what,” she said finally, “do I owe the honor of a personal visit from my commander and executive officer?”

  “Put your hands where I can see them, please,” Liam ordered. “And sit down.”

  Templegrey placed her hands flat on her knees as she lowered into the chair. Her cabinmate, Brown, had the watch, so Liam knew there would be no one disturbing them.

  “We received word,” he said, “that Captain Silverhawk has reached Morassia, and is inquiring into the whereabouts of a ship named Soaring Swan.”

  “Damn his eyes,” she said quietly, her expression one of perfect neutrality. “How does he keep getting ahead of us?”

  “Because someone aboard Daring is telling him our plans.”

  “That’s absurd, sir,” she said. “Why would anyone do that?”

  “You tell me, Ava.”

  The color drained from her face, but otherwise her mask of calm remained unperturbed.

  “Surely, sir,” she said with a tiny smile, “you’re not suggesting I contacted Silverhawk.”

  “I’m not suggesting anything. I’m declaring it as fact.”

  “But he could have gained this information from anywhere.” Her poise was
remarkable, but cracks were starting to show. “With his wealth he could buy a hundred informants who might feed him this information.”

  “No, just one. How much did he pay you?”

  “Not a penny!” Outrage clouded her porcelain façade, and Liam sensed it wasn’t for show. “Check all my accounts—all my holdings! I have never received anything from that man.”

  “Then what?”

  “Captain”—Templegrey switched her gaze—“this is ridiculous. Silverhawk could have gained this information anywhere. Why would you accuse me?”

  “Because there is no Soaring Swan,” Riverton replied icily. “The XO made it up and fed you that information. It was a false lead given only to you, and you dutifully passed it along to your real master.” She pulled out the printed report and slammed it down on the cabin desk. “Your ‘scurvy report’ to the Imperial College of Medicine—sent to an office that doesn’t exist, to an inbox that is watched by an orderly in the employ of the Silverhawk family. Highlighting Morassia and a ship called Soaring Swan most prominently.”

  Templegrey dropped her eyes, slumping in defeat. She sat unmoving for a long moment.

  “I ask you again,” Liam said, “because I’m genuinely curious. What did he give you to make you betray us?”

  “He gave me reprieve,” she said, raising tear-filled eyes. “He spared my family the humiliation that he brought upon the Brightlakes. But that sword still hangs over us and is stayed only so long as I keep giving him information.”

  “The Templegreys are in financial trouble?” Riverton asked.

  “Yes, ma’am. I give all my prize money to my parents to manage their debts, but the costs of maintaining our estates has recently become overwhelming.”

  “Why recently? What’s changed?”

  “We’ve struggled for years, frankly, ever since my father inherited the Fairfield estate.”

  “Wait—what?” Liam cursed inwardly at his sudden loss of calm, but the name Fairfield just salted the old wound.

  “Lord and Lady Fairfield died in that storm with no children, and Lord Fairfield was an only child. My father, his cousin, was the closest relative. And so we took on all his holdings, and all his debts. It was manageable, but just recently our loan from the Silverhawk family came due. Captain Silverhawk renewed it, but at a much higher rate of interest. It has, frankly, brought us to the brink of ruin.” She arched an eyebrow at Liam. “Why do you think I’ve been so keen to get prize money paid out more regularly? My family depends on it.”

  Liam frowned in thought.

  She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “I was allowed one indulgence—that beautiful Imperial gown—which my father knew would help me secure a high noble husband. But I’m afraid that one luxury has now cost us all dearly.”

  “You couldn’t afford it?” Liam asked.

  “I certainly could, but Silverhawk took note of it at the Brightlake ball. He knew my family was in a desperate situation, and my gown caught his eye. I guess he made inquiries about where my sudden wealth had come from.”

  “And learned of our letter of marque,” Liam finished.

  “His family has more than enough influence in court to acquire a second, once they knew about it.” She sighed. “And now he enriches himself in this new game, using our intelligence work and his fast cutter to steal the prizes.”

  “Or just scupper our efforts,” Riverton added.

  “Yes, ma’am. I guess so.”

  There was a long moment of silence in the cabin. Liam struggled to process everything, but Riverton’s expression remained icy.

  “Are you aware of the punishment for treason?” she asked finally.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am,” Templegrey replied. “I was trapped.”

  “Or just choosing other priorities. Family before fleet, eh, Lady Templegrey?”

  Riverton’s eyes were narrow, and Liam could see her whitening knuckles as she gripped her sword hilt.

  “Ava,” Liam said, taking a step forward to subtly interpose himself, “after all we’ve done together, why didn’t you tell us?”

  “One doesn’t speak of such things to fellow nobles,” she said with an attempt at a shrug. “I suspect this will all end with my being given to him in marriage. The ultimate bribe to save our family.”

  Liam could think of few worse fates. Especially for a woman like Ava, and especially to a wretch like Silverhawk. His mind flashed back to the diamond broach in his cabin, and another wonderful young woman whose life had been snuffed out by dynastic politics.

  “I’m sympathetic,” he admitted. “But you should have come to us for help.”

  Her gaze lifted with new intensity. “I tried to feed him false information—when we were last headed to Windfall I told him we were hunting near Passagia—but he figured out that I was lying. And he foreclosed on my family’s summer home.”

  It was all scandalous, but with Silverhawk somewhat believable. But still . . .

  “You know I’m going to check that, right?”

  “It’s a matter of public record,” she said sadly. “But he kept it quiet—it was a message just for me. And he promised that the next time I crossed him, he’ll call in all our debts and murder my father in front of a ballroom of guests.” She suddenly stiffened. “Great stars! My message about Soaring Swan is false?”

  Liam glanced at Riverton. The captain was watching the doctor with cool, assessing eyes.

  “No,” Templegrey gasped, fighting back a sob. “My family is ruined!”

  “Perhaps not,” Riverton stated. “We’re still a day from Morassia, are we not?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Liam answered.

  “Then send a message to the Morassian port authority. Tell them we are the Soaring Swan and we are inbound.”

  Templegrey looked up, desperate hope in her eyes. Liam couldn’t hide his own surprise as he turned to his captain.

  “Your conduct is disgraceful,” Riverton continued, her gaze boring into Templegrey, “and I’m not finished dealing with you. But you’ve proven your worth enough in the past to motivate me now. I won’t let your entire family be destroyed because of our internal issues.”

  Templegrey reached out with both hands to grasp Riverton’s. “Thank you, my lady.”

  Riverton snapped her hands clear, her expression dangerously close to a snarl.

  “Don’t touch me,” she hissed. “Don’t speak to me. And certainly don’t thank me yet.” She looked at Liam. “Remove this officer’s security clearances. After you’ve sent the message as Soaring Swan, put Daring into silent sailing—no message leaves this ship.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He glanced at Templegrey. “Shall I confine her to quarters? It will cause the fewest questions among the crew.”

  Riverton considered for a moment.

  “Yes, say that she’s ill. Put Brown in Swift’s cabin and move Swift in with the coxn. No one is to enter this cabin except to bring meals—and make it one of the Theropods, with no translator and with Virtue waiting outside.”

  Solitary confinement for Templegrey, and serious disruption for the other officers. Liam didn’t look forward to explaining the sudden shift in bunks, but one look at Riverton was all the encouragement he needed. And as he shut the door on the silent, defeated Templegrey, he realized he had bigger things to worry about than Chief Butcher’s glare or Lieutenant Swift’s acid tongue.

  Daring had confirmed disloyalty on board. And Captain Silverhawk was waiting for them on Morassia.

  The light shifted in Liam’s cabin as the lamp overhead swung gently in the swells. The ship was fighting stronger winds as the Hub drew closer, and a steady breeze against the beam rocked the hull. Starlight shining through his porthole was enough to cast a glow across his desk, but the swinging lamp added a continuous shift.

  He didn’t know how long he’d been holding the Brightlake broach, mesmerized by the sparkling dance of the diamond facets. Too many memories were surfacing, he knew. Too many fond days with Zara Brightlake th
at he thought he’d banished from his mind forever. Long walks in the garden maze, quiet evenings rowing on the lake, stolen moments out of sight of her parents. She’d been a shining star just like this broach, her flame snuffed out by the aristocracy. It had been years since he’d even allowed himself to think of her.

  “Zara . . .” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

  He put the broach down on his desk, next to the small box of old letters. It was pathetic, perhaps, that he’d kept Zara’s letters all these years, and having reread them this evening he could tell just how young and foolish they’d both been. How many times had he read these letters in years past? He knew every word, every flourish of her educated hand, as their tragic tale had played out.

  His heart ached at the memory of the news of her betrothal, at the anguish they shared as the dynastic system tore them apart. Liam closed his eyes, fighting down old anger at his own helplessness. He’d watched impotently as she was cloistered away, and he was summarily dismissed from the Brightlake estate. She’d become a prisoner in her own home, her entire life reduced to preparing to be someone’s wife. He’d dreamed of rescuing her, of carrying her away to . . . what? To live with him on Passagia? His own father would have been honor bound to return a wayward daughter of another lord. Zara had offered truly crazy ideas, too, of running away together and disappearing.

  He smiled sadly. As a pair of young fools in love they’d never really thought it through. And in a way he was glad they’d never tried anything truly stupid—it just would have meant trouble for them both and their families, and ultimately changed nothing. But his own escape to the Navy had been exactly that, he knew—an escape. One that promised the freedom to act, and the authority to uphold justice. He might be a terrible lord, but he understood the system well enough to know that he could never truly escape.

  He sealed the broach in its case and closed the box with the old letters. It was probably time, he knew, to just get rid of them all. It was time to focus on the present.

  But as Daring continued on her mission, Swift and Brown now standing one-in-two watches through the night, Liam couldn’t help but think of the other young noblewoman currently imprisoned in her own home. Ava Templegrey was no traitor, he knew. She was a strong and intelligent person trapped in a system too big and powerful to counter. She’d betrayed the ship, yes, but only to protect her own family.