by C H Gideon
“But that can’t last forever against a foe whose main tactic is attrition,” Jiya added.
Lek nodded. “Unable to replenish the resources necessary to advance and fend off the attacks of his people, Krokus 4 fell into disarray, the entirety of its energy spent upon the meager fleet that now guards the planet,” she explained. “A stubborn people, the Orau returned time and time again, settling into bombarding our planet in hopes of wearing the citizenry down to the point that they would eventually collapse or dispose of Jaer Pon, either of which would have had the same effect. Without another means of protecting ourselves, the Orau would have installed another leader. We were to remain trapped, no matter which way the war turned.
“Without the knowledge of the shield, which only Jaer Pon truly understands, the city would be washed away, and the Orau would claim what is left of the planet’s resources.”
“What about the military?” Reynolds asked. “If we challenge Jaer Pon, will they rise against us?”
“Unlikely,” Lek replied.
“Colonel Raf is a pragmatist,” Roe explained. “He will follow the will of the people, doing what is best for them, not the whims of a tyrannical leader.”
“Will you take the president’s place, when all is said and done?” Geroux asked.
Reynolds smiled. It was a smart question.
Lek shook her head. “I have no interest in politics. I’m too old for all that anyway. I would leave the effort to younger minds and cooler heads, but I would happily advise those who come after Jaer Pon. I will serve our people to the best of my ability.”
“We would approach Vice President Shal Ura,” Roe stated. “She sees what’s happening to her adopted world and views things differently than Jaer Pon. She is no longer an Orau so much as she is a Krokan now, whatever her original status.”
“So you would hand the planet back to the same people in charge of it now?” Reynolds asked.
“We would hand it back to the people,” Lek corrected. “To those who would see it prosper, safe from those who would bring it down while simultaneously exploiting our people and resources.”
Reynolds nodded his reply, giving himself a moment to collect his thoughts.
He was impressed with Lek, and although he’d made a mistake siding with Jaer Pon when they’d first arrived, he understood that his ignorance had played a role in that decision.
Along with the crew, they’d seen their way through it all, learning about the world and its people and determining what the true story was just as they had in the missions before. The Orau on Krokus 1 needed to be destroyed, and they had been. Now the Orau on Krokus 4 were going to get their turn in the gunsights.
He was proud of his crew.
Despite his earlier mistakes, it wasn’t too late to correct them and set things right.
Besides, much of what they’d done was something that needed to be done anyway. Now, there was really only one last problem to address before he and the crew could look to the stars again and chase down the Kurtherians and their minions that had been shadowing them the entire time.
“I have an idea how to fix our mutual problem,” Reynolds announced. “If you’re interested, that is.”
Roe grinned, and Lek waited for the explanation.
“Time to kick one last Orau ass!” Jiya chimed in.
“Count me in on that,” Ka’nak offered.
Reynolds smiled. “Okay, folks, looks like we’ve a planet to take back.”
“We’re going to need a head, though,” Geroux said, reminding them of the president’s expectations.
Reynolds grimaced. “I’d forgotten about that.”
“Jaer Pon wants my head?” Lek asked.
Reynolds paused for a moment before nodding.
Lek sat there a moment quietly, then a soft grin broke across her cheeks.
“So be it,” she said. “My head he shall have.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Jiya and the crew slipped away from the meeting with Lek and the other Krokans unseen by the presidential guard or anyone who might report their whereabouts.
She gingerly carried the thick bag that contained the grisly prize Jaer Pon had requested. She hated the way it felt in her hands and she wanted to pass it off, but every time she thought to do that she felt Reynolds’ judging eyes on her.
She knew she was imagining it every time, but she couldn’t help but feel this was a burden she needed to carry as the Reynolds’ first officer. It wasn’t something she could pawn off on Geroux or any of the others.
Well, except Ka’nak, but he’d enjoy the duty too much.
He’d probably make friends with the bloody, severed head.
Jiya shuddered at the thought.
Reynolds had reached out to the compound a short while ago and Sergeant Gib met them outside. He smiled at the crew, nodding at Ka’nak and Geroux, then spotted the moist sack Jiya carried.
His face paled, but to his credit, he didn’t turn away.
He simply spun on his heel and waved the crew after him.
They made their way through the halls of the smaller compound, the one they’d met Jaer Pon in previously. Jiya was surprised at how quiet the place was compared to the other.
No servants or workers were roaming the halls. No one was actually, except for the occasional guard who stared cold-eyed at the crew as they passed.
It made sense, she thought. Who wants witnesses to receiving the hacked-off head of a political opponent?
Regardless of the clout earned from taking Lek out, parading her head around likely wouldn’t endear Jaer Pon to the people he’d subjugated upon his arrival.
He’d won their support through guile and deceit rather than outright brutality. To make a public spectacle of Lek’s defeat would work against him even now, so it made sense to keep it quiet, given the manner in which it was obtained.
No leader who took the heads of their people reigned for long.
While those morbid thoughts played through her head, Sergeant Gib led them back to the makeshift throne room they’d visited the last time. He ushered them inside, and Jiya was glad to see the room looked much the same as it had before.
The only difference was that there were far fewer guards stationed within the room.
As a matter of fact, there were hardly any at all.
Vice President Shal Ura was there, and Flor stood at her side. President Jaer Pon was present, too, as was Minister To Gul, but Jiya counted only five guards positioned around the small dais at the front of the room.
“Welcome! Welcome!” Jaer Pon cried out as they entered. “Please, come in and join us,” he said, waving at the crew.
Sergeant Gib nudged the crew forward, staying behind to close the doors.
“I guess all it takes is a little head to make a male happy,” Jiya quipped, shaking the bag in her hand.
Geroux looked at her in disgust.
“Tactical would be proud,” Reynolds muttered, shaking his head. “Too soon, probably.”
The crew made their way to the dais and stopped before the stairs.
Jaer Pon met them with a huge smile. Shal Ura looked ready to be sick, her gaze subconsciously shifting between the crew and the bag Jiya carried.
The vice president knew what it contained.
“Your mission was a success, I take it?” Jaer Pon asked, rising from his chair and coming down the steps to meet them face to face. His gaze scanned the crew exuberantly.
“It was,” Reynolds replied, holding out his hand for Jiya to pass him the bag.
“Excellent,” he cooed, rubbing his hands together as Jiya gave Reynolds the sack containing the head.
The AI passed it to the president, who undid the ties and took a surreptitious look inside, not allowing anyone else to get a clear view of what was in there.
A great smile lit his face a moment later, and he let out a long, satisfied sigh. He re-tied the bag, keeping its contents from prying eyes, and handed it to Minister To Gul, who’d come o
ver to stand at his side while he inspected the package.
“You’ve done well, Reynolds,” Jaer Pon told him, clapping the android on the shoulder. “You have the appreciation of the people of Krokus 4, my friends.”
He spun and practically danced up the steps to reclaim his seat on the dais.
“We must celebrate this great victory,” he called. “Minister To Gul, take that horrid remnant away and rally the servants. Today we feast!”
The minister shuffled off with Jaer Pon’s prize, and Jiya watched him go, half-expecting an army of determined soldiers to burst through the door and try to kill them.
But nothing happened.
The old male swung the doors wide and marched through, letting Sergeant Gib close them after he was gone.
No one jumped out at them, tried to assassinate them, or even screamed, “Boo!”
Jiya didn’t know whether to be disappointed or happy that she had been so wrong.
Lek had led them to believe that President Jaer Pon would immediately set his guards upon the crew once they dropped off proof that they’d killed her.
She’d been so certain that she had warned them several times, as had Roe. The fact that there were but five guards not counting Sergeant Gib in the room made her question Lek’s story now.
“This is a great time for the Krokan people,” Jaer Pon went on. “We are rid of the Orau, and we have great friends who will help us to defend our planet from similar invaders in the future.”
Is that why he’s waiting? Jiya wondered. He wants the technology first?
But that didn’t make sense. While the Orau and Krokans weren’t overly sophisticated technology-wise, they had more than sufficient ability to crack open Reynolds’ skull and take what they needed from the AI trapped in the android’s body.
Lek and Roe had made that clear too.
What were they waiting for?
Jiya found herself glancing around the room as the president went on, listing the plans he had for their celebration, who he would invite, what they would eat, and how long into the week the celebratory parties would last.
She glanced at Reynolds, who stared back at her with a blank expression. She could read the look in his eyes, though.
It was the exact same as the one in hers.
What the absolute fuck?
What’s going on? she asked over her implanted communicator link.
I have no idea, Reynolds admitted. Maybe we judged him wrong?
He’s definitely happy that Lek is dead, but I’m not seeing the murderous rage to get rid of all the witnesses and accomplices she and Roe predicted, Jiya said.
Well, we are dealing with people and cultures we know nothing about, Reynolds suggested. Maybe we wait and see?
Jiya hated waiting.
“Mister President,” she asked, raising her hand, “did you want the defense ring technology?”
Jaer Pon waved the question off. “Later, my friends. After we celebrate. This is a day of joy,” he said. “I would have us enjoy our victory. All talks of politics and negotiations can wait.”
Jiya directed a subtle shrug Reynolds’ way. She’d pushed, and Jaer Pon had blown off the opportunity to get what she’d thought he wanted.
And still, no guards broke down the door or armies spilled into the room to try to kill or capture the crew.
Unsure what to do, the crew stood there stupidly, waiting for the president.
All the while, he chatted excitedly with the vice president, who still looked sullen and disinterested, and then with Flor about the feast plans,. At last, as if he’d only just realized the crew was still standing there, he turned his attention back to them.
“Oh, please, no more standing around. You must be exhausted after all you’ve done,” he started. “Let Flor show you to your quarters so you can rest. The celebrations will begin at nightfall, so conserve your energy until then. The whole of Krokus 4 will want to congratulate you and show their appreciation.” He grinned broadly. “It will, no doubt, be even more exhausting than the missions you have completed,” he finished with a chuckle, waving the crew on before going back to speaking with Shal Ura.
Flor smiled and motioned toward the doors.
“This way, please,” she told them. “I’ll show you to your quarters,
Reynolds, caught off guard by the strange results of their meeting with Jaer Pon, shrugged and motioned for the crew to follow Flor to their guest chambers.
She opened the doors to show the crew out, and Jiya wondered if maybe things were exactly what they appeared to be for once.
No subterfuge, no bullshit.
Just good old-fashioned honesty, where people did what they said and followed through on their promises.
That was when Reynolds was shot dead in the chest.
Geroux screamed when Reynolds stumbled back, a charred hole blasted in the middle of his chest where a normal creature’s heart might be. Wisps of smoke spilled from the wound.
Sergeant Gib stood there with a twisted smile on his face and his gun barrel smoldering.
As badly as Jiya wanted to be pissed about the attack—scared, worried, whatever—she found herself relieved to have the ambush come at last.
She was glad, too, that it had been the AI who’d taken the first shot and not one of the others in the crew.
“Motherfucker!” Reynolds cursed, prodding the hole in his android body.
The AI was pissed.
Dozens of presidential guards crowded the doorway, aiming their weapons into the room.
Flor shrieked and dove aside.
“Maddox!” Jiya screamed.
“On it.” The general’s voice came from less than two meters away.
Maddox appeared in his armor out of nowhere behind the crowd of guards and opened up with his pistol, blasting them in the back with measured, careful shots.
San Roche and L’Eliana appeared right beside him and did the same, the three of them mowing down the guards with murderous precision.
The soldiers spun to face the surprise attack and were immediately plowed into by Reynolds and Ka’nak.
While the crew in the throne room were unarmed, it was a mistake to think they were incapable of dishing out damage.
Hurt as he was, Reynolds flung guards around as if they were motes of dust. Guards screamed and howled as he tore through them while the three crewmembers shot them down from the other side.
Ka’nak relished the opportunity to fight, ripping the guards apart as he stood alongside Reynolds.
Jiya and Geroux stepped away from the carnage as bodies flew, limbs flailing.
“We’ve got more flooding in the front entrance,” Maddox warned from the hallway, his voice carrying over the comm and through the room at the same time.
“Now, Geroux,” Jiya told her friend.
The young tech didn’t bother to respond, her fingers flying over the keypad of her wrist computer. Not more than a second later the power in the small compound flickered and died, drowning the room in darkness.
Darkness the crew could see in perfectly, thanks to Takal’s brilliant technique of shrinking the cumbersome night-vision goggles so they could be used as permanent contacts inserted in the eyes of the crew.
Of course, the process hurt like hell, Jiya recalled, but the results were worth every second of it.
“Get that piece of shit,” Reynolds shouted to her and Jiya grinned.
“On it,” she replied, racing toward the dais at the far end of the room.
Jaer Pon, a master of survival, had already abandoned his chair and fled toward the alcove at the back where he’d pulled the body of the supposed Knight from earlier.
Jiya knew there was a door there, Roe having told her of it.
Vice President Shal Ura screamed and dove for cover in the darkness as the five guards on the dais made their way down the steps as carefully as they could in the absolute blackness of the room.
Jiya figured they’d expected to stand their ground and be clo
se-in protection for the president should something go wrong with the ambush, but they hadn’t expected the sudden dearth of lights.
That made them easy targets for Jiya and Geroux.
Jiya stepped up to the first of the guards and shot him in the head, ducking away to make herself harder to hit since she’d just announced her position.
Geroux helped with that.
The young tech crouched and blasted another of the guards, strafing her fire across to take out a third. With Shal Ura huddled face-down on the floor, Geroux didn’t have to worry about accidentally hitting her.
Jiya killed the last two guards, shooting one, then swiveling to get the next one. It took a second shot to kill the last of them, but it had been as satisfying as the first.
Backstabbing assholes!
She hurtled up the dais steps after Jaer Pon.
As she did, she heard the shout of furious warriors and the crash of flesh against flesh.
She cast a quick glance over her shoulder as she ran and spied Lek’s people storming the hallway, overtaking the squad of presidential guards that had rushed in to back up the first group.
And then she was through the covered alcove and hard on the heels of the president, the door to his secret hallway hanging wide open.
While she’d had a few minutes of concern when he’d acted far different than she’d expected, she was now fully invested in Lek’s intel.
She knew exactly where the hidden passage went and where it came out, so she ran through it without worry, recalling that there was only one secretive alcove he might hide in before it led into the night.
Her magnified vision had made it clear the narrow cubby was empty before she’d approached, so she passed it, flying down the hall after the president.
She could hear his slapping footsteps and his huffed breaths ahead of her. A flicker of motion told her she was closing in on him. He was going to make it to the exit before she reached him, though.
Jiya cursed and doubled down, pushing harder to catch him.
There was no way in hell she was going to let him get away.
She spotted the open door of the tunnel just ahead, Jaer Pon scrambling through it, desperately trying to stay ahead of her. Jiya was almost on top of him.
