by Timothy Zahn
"Excellent," Draycos said. "Thank you." Lifting his front paws from Langston's chest, he took the comm clip and started adjusting its settings.
He was still working at it when Langston took a sharp turn to the right, keyed open a door, and went inside a room.
A room with the well-remembered aroma of permanent disinfectant. "A relief station?" Draycos asked.
"Why not?" Langston countered. "Low ceilings, no cameras, and as much privacy as we're going to get. And we're only three rooms away from your power substation."
"You're also way too far from your station here," Draycos warned. "There are two other relief stations closer to the starboard weapons bays."
"Both of which have been fitted with Brummga-sized equipment," Langston countered. "No, we token humans usually use one of the three that were left the way you and your Shontine friends originally had them. Perfectly normal behavior for me to be here. You ready with that yet?"
"Just finished." Draycos keyed on the comm clip. "Jack?"
"Here," Jack's voice came. "You find it?"
"Not yet," Draycos said. "But we're near the substation, and I can get into the ducts from here."
"Keep your voice down, will you?" Jack warned. "I can hear Brummgas in the background."
"That's coming from the comm clip I left by the weapons bay grille," Draycos assured him. "I'm using Sergeant Langston's spare comm clip."
"Oh," Jack said, sounding a bit taken aback. "Okay."
"Should I have hidden the other comm clip better?" Draycos asked. "It is muted, so they can't listen in."
"No, that's okay," Jack said. "Actually . . . yes, actually, that could turn out to be useful."
"I gather you have a plan?" Langston asked.
"Yes, I think so," Jack said. "How are you doing, Langston?"
"They don't trust me, but they're being good enough to give me plenty of rope with which to hang myself," Langston said.
"Sounds like Neverlin's style," Jack said. "How game are you to wrap some of that rope around your neck?"
"I'll do whatever's necessary," Langston said, his voice calm but deadly serious. "I'm a warrior." He looked sideways down at Draycos's face pressed against his shoulder. "Draycos understands."
"I think I'm starting to, too," Jack said. "Okay, here's the scheme."
Quickly, concisely, he laid it out for them. "Going to take some careful timing," Langston commented when he'd finished.
"Yes, but with three comm clips I think we can pull it off," Jack said. "My biggest question is for Draycos."
"Don't worry about me," Draycos told him, ignoring the creeping feeling shivering across his scales. No, he certainly didn't want to do this. Not this way.
But he could see no other way to do what had to be done. "As Sergeant Langston said, we're warriors. We do whatever is necessary."
"You also do what's right," Jack reminded him. "Is this going to conflict with that?"
"I do not kill without need," Draycos said. "Not even enemies. But this is a war of survival. I'll do whatever is necessary."
"Especially given what's at stake," Langston murmured.
"Yes," Draycos said. "Let's get on with it."
"Okay, then," Jack said. There was still some lingering doubt in the boy's voice, but he clearly knew better than to press the issue. "Get into the ducts and confirm the other Death is actually there. Langston, you get back to your station. Don't forget to pick up a drink on the way—that was your excuse for leaving, remember."
"Right," Langston said. "You need a hand, Draycos?"
"No, thank you." Draycos leaped out of Langston's collar, landing on one of the relief station's dividers. Balancing there, he got a claw under the corner of the ventilation grille and popped the hidden catch. "Ready."
"Good luck," Langston said, holding out his hand.
Reaching down, Draycos touched the outstretched hand with his paw. "And to you," he said. Turning, he swung the grille open and crawled inside.
I'll do whatever is necessary, the words echoed through his mind as he started toward the power substation. Whatever is necessary.
CHAPTER 19
Two minutes later, as Jack finished setting up his additional sabotage, the word came through.
"It's here," Draycos's voice murmured from his comm clip. "Eight guards on duty, all Brummgas, with another bank of video displays showing the approaches and the other weapon's room."
"Any humans or Valahgua in sight?" Jack asked.
"Neither here nor in the corridor," Draycos confirmed. "And the weapon is definitely pointed at the other one."
Jack smiled grimly. He'd called it, all right. Langston's Death weapon was the bait, and this one was the hunter.
Only the Valahgua had been smart enough to hedge their bets in the other direction. If Draycos went for the more obvious bait, fine. But if he somehow sniffed out the location of this one, the result would be the same. The minute he appeared at either end of the shooting gallery, the other end would open fire.
No doubt the Valahgua had given clear and explicit instructions to the Brummgas manning the weapons. Though they'd possibly neglected to mention the fact that each group was in the other's sights.
But plans and instructions had a bad tendency to change in midstream. The Valahgua, clearly uninterested in risking their own precious skins, had pulled back to a cautious distance and left the front lines to the Brummgas.
That mistake was going to cost them.
"Okay," Jack said, working his way back to his original spot and the power line switch he'd wired into—now—three different consoles. "Touch-off in fifteen seconds, with diversion kicking in probably three minutes later. Listen for the signal, and don't go to sleep on me."
"Don't worry," Draycos said dryly. "And be careful."
"You, too."
Jack checked his pockets, making sure he had the two wire-wrapped bottles he'd managed to rig in the past few minutes. There was nothing but water in them, but the Valahgua leaning over their monitors wouldn't know that. Then, opening his flight suit collar to midchest level, he crossed his fingers and flipped his switch.
It was reasonably spectacular, as such things went. There was a multiple flash of muted sparks from the various sets of rigged wires, though most of the action was taking place up inside the consoles where he couldn't get much of a view. There was a soft hiss from one of the consoles, accompanied by the acrid stink of burned insulation and electronics.
And above him, dimly heard through the thick deck, the control complex erupted in chaos.
Thirty seconds later he was at the far end of the crawl space. With multiple footsteps now thudding back and forth over his head, he pushed open an access panel and climbed through into the midaft expansion conduit.
Two minutes after that, he had made it back into the starboard tween gap. "Here we go," he murmured toward his comm clip as he closed the panel behind him. "Look sharp."
Turning on his light, he headed forward at a dead run. Fifty yards ahead, Langston and his team of Brummgas were waiting expectantly around their Death weapon. Between Jack and them were the spy cameras the Valahgua had planted inside the tween gap one room over from them.
One room over from the waiting Death weapon. Distantly, Jack wondered whether anyone would be watching the camera monitors.
Draycos's count had just reached three minutes when the Brummgas in the room beneath him reacted. "There!" one grunted, pointing toward the bank of displays. "The boy!"
One of the others slammed a massive hand across the room's intercom switch. "Control; Mrishpaw," he called. "The boy is in the hull-gap near the starboard weapons bays."
There was no reply. Draycos peered through the grate as Jack's image hurried up to the camera. His foot loomed suddenly huge—
Abruptly, the image gave a wild twist and went black. The other monitor's image lasted perhaps half a second longer; then it, too, gyrated and went black.
"Control, the boy has destroyed the starboard cameras, M
rishpaw reported urgently. "Instructions?"
The intercom remained silent. But through the comm clip attached to his ear Draycos now heard a second call. "Control, Langston," Langston's voice came faintly from the comm clip hidden in the ventilation duct. "Morgan's in the hull-gap—starboard side near the weapons bays—and he's wrecked the cameras. Repeat: we've lost him."
Below Draycos, the two Brummgas at the Death's controls looked uncertainly at each other. Apparently, their instructions hadn't included this possibility. "Control; Mrishpaw," Mrishpaw tried again. "The boy is somewhere in the hull-gap, perhaps still near the starboard weapons bays. Instructions?"
"Control," a dark voice came over the speaker. "Was the K'da with him?"
Draycos felt a shiver of anger and disgust ripple through his scales. That was a voice and a tone he knew all too well.
Whatever damage Jack's sabotage had inflicted on the control complex, at least one of the Valahgua was still on top of the situation.
"I could not see him," Mrishpaw said, a note of relief in his voice. Finally, someone was there to tell him what to do.
"Instructions?" one of the Brummgas at the Death's controls called.
For a few seconds the speaker was silent. Draycos felt his claws sliding restlessly in and out of their sheaths as he watched the Brummgas fidgeting below him. If Jack's attack on the control complex had made the Valahgua too nervous, they might take the cautious way out and simply order the Death to be swept across the ship's bow.
If they did, Jack would die.
"Watch the monitors," the Valahgua ordered. "Let me know when the boy reappears."
Draycos breathed a silent sigh of relief. So the Lordover wasn't going to panic and blindly open fire.
But Draycos could also hear the suspicion in his voice. He knew there was some sort of plan going on here, and he was determined not to be taken in by it.
Unfortunately for him, he would be measuring the possibilities against what he knew about K'da battle tactics. Jack's conman tactics might be something new.
"Control; Langston," Langston's voice came again in Draycos's ear. "Repeating: Morgan has passed by the starboard weapons bays and we've lost him. Do you have any orders?"
There was no answer. Either the Lordover was ignoring him or else Jack's sabotage had damaged the intercom to that area of the ship.
"I see him!" one of the Brummgas called, stabbing a finger at one of the other monitors. "There!"
"Lordover, the boy has reappeared," Mrishpaw said excitedly, "He is approaching the port-side weapons bay cameras."
"And he is carrying something," the first Brummga added, leaning close to the monitor. "Two bottles with something wrapped around their necks."
"They see you, Jack," Draycos murmured toward his comm clip. "Get ready."
"Control; Langston," Langston's voice came again, starting to sound agitated. "Morgan's coming up on the port-side weapons bays. Control, do you copy?"
Now, Draycos silently urged him. Do it now.
"Blast it," Langston snarled. "Intercom must be out. Vimpru—you and Galcra find a working intercom and let control know that Morgan's on the loose."
Draycos held his breath. If the two Brummgas obeyed Langston's order . . .
"We cannot leave," Vimpru said flatly. "Our orders are to stay and guard the weapon."
"Well, blast you, too," Langston snarled. "Fine—I'll go."
Draycos listened hard, and a moment later heard the sound of the door opening and closing. "He's clear," he murmured into his comm clip.
"Bottoms up," Jack murmured back.
Draycos peered through the grille at the monitors. The tiny figure that was Jack moved closer to the cameras, filling one of two displays as he leaned over it.
And suddenly both displays went black.
"He has destroyed the port-side cameras as well," Mrishpaw said urgently into the intercom. "Instructions?"
"Hold position," the Valahguan voice said, and there was no mistaking the satisfaction there.
Because he'd figured it out. Leaning over the camera with his flight suit collar open, Jack had clearly demonstrated that Draycos wasn't riding his skin.
And if Jack was approaching the port-side weapons bay, where the second Death weapon had been located until a few hours ago, Draycos must therefore be preparing to attack the starboard weapon. A straightforward, coordinated two-prong attack, of the sort the Valahgua had seen a thousand times before.
Or else possibly Draycos was being subtle, with Jack merely a diversion to get their attention while Draycos launched a single-prong attack.
Fortunately, it didn't matter which of those conclusions the Valahgua jumped to. Jack's destruction of the starboard cameras as he passed was all the confirmation he needed that Draycos was lurking in the tween gap waiting for the moment to attack the bait.
And with the trap already set and primed, the Valahgua could afford the minor effort required to also eliminate the lesser of his two enemies. "Prepare to fire," the Valahgua ordered Mrishpaw. "As soon as the K'da has reached the weapon."
The voice went silent; and then, from the hidden comm clip, the voice came again. "Readjust your aim to the boy's last position," he ordered Langston's crew. "Fire on my command."
"I obey," the response came. On the monitor below him, Draycos saw two of the Brummgas grab the front end of the other Death weapon and begin to swing it ponderously toward the port-side weapons bay.
And as its aim moved away from the room below him, Draycos pounced.
He shoved open the grille with his front paws and pushed the duct's back wall with his hind paws, hurling himself out of the opening like a black-scaled missile. The Brummgas had just enough time to start to turn, their mouths dropping open.
And then Draycos was among them, slashing with his paws to stagger back the nearest alien, then slapping away the one behind him, clearing himself a path to the obscene killing machine mounted in the center of the room. From the intercom speaker he heard a Valahguan scream of fury, and through his comm clip he heard the Lordover howling at the Brummgas in the other room to stop what they were doing and turn the Death back toward the threat that had suddenly appeared behind them.
But it was already too late. Even as the Brummgas threw their weight against the weapon's muzzle, Draycos reached the center of his room. He ducked beneath the rear of the Death and came back up behind it.
And twisting back around to face the control panel, he keyed the firing button.
From its muzzle came a sickly yellow flash, and the all-too-familiar cone of violet light lanced out like the limb of some alien creature stretching out toward its prey. The violet light hit the bulkhead, and in his mind's eye Draycos could see it passing through the next room, and the next, and the next.
And on the monitor, the Brummgas still trying to wrestle the other Death weapon back into place collapsed to the deck.
The rest of the Brummgas in Draycos's room had recovered from their shock and were starting forward. But Draycos didn't have time to deal with them now. Giving the Death a quick but crippling double slash, he ducked under the charging Brummgas and made for the door. A flick of one paw at the control, a blind back-forth whipping of his tail to brush back pursuit, and as the door opened he slipped out.
He set off down the corridor at a dead run. All around him, the various room and corridor intercoms were alive with Valahguan and human voices shouting orders as they tried to get their troops to the scene.
But all the troops had been carefully moved out of the trap's line of fire, and it was an eternity too late to bring them back. Draycos took the corridor's turns at full speed, his paws climbing halfway up the walls as he did so.
Seconds later, he stood beside the fourth and final Death weapon.
Draycos had seen countless dead bodies during his people's war against the Valahgua. But there was something about bodies killed by the Death that especially sickened him. Keeping his eyes away from them, he slashed at the weapon itself,
expending his fury and tension as he turned it into scrap metal.
"Draycos?" Jack's voice came in his ear.
Draycos took a careful breath. "I'm all right," he assured the other. "Get back to base. I'll meet you there."
"Make it quick," Jack warned. "I'm guessing they're not too happy with us just now."
Draycos looked down at the remains of the Death, scattered over the remains of the Brummgas the Death had killed.
The Brummgas he had killed with the Death.
Whatever is necessary . . .
"No," he agreed quietly. "I don't think they're happy with us at all."
CHAPTER 20
After only two months of being fully awake, as Alison sometimes referred to it, Taneem didn't consider herself very good at reading human expressions. But after these last few days aboard the Advocatus Diaboli, she was getting reasonably good at identifying anger.
And Neverlin was angry. Probably as angry as she'd ever seen a human being get.
"Unacceptable, Lieutenant," he ground out. He was standing behind his desk, glaring across the polished surface at the young man standing stiffly in front of him. "Completely unacceptable."
"I agree, sir," the other said, his voice as stiff as his body. "The conduct and performance of the Brummgas and Valahgua left a great deal to be desired."
"That's not what I meant." Neverlin glared at Frost, who was standing silently at the other side of Neverlin's desk, then shifted the glare to Harper, standing a little ways to Frost's right. "But as long as we're on the subject. Harper?"
"What do you want me to say?" Harper countered. Of all of those in the office, he seemed the calmest. "I already told you the Patri Chookoock had his doubts about some of his people. Obviously, he was right."
"I don't want you to say anything," Neverlin told him "I want you to point the traitors out to me so that Colonel Frost can throw them out the airlock."
Neverlin looked back at the lieutenant. "And while he's thinking up names, I want to hear about our former StarForce Wing Sergeant Langston."
