by Natalie Grey
“There may be something to that,” she admitted finally. “I will speak with His Excellency. After all, it’s not as if the Brakalons have a fleet, right?”
“Exactly,” Admiral Jeqwar replied. “I understand the need to move quickly, but we must not leave ourselves open. Better to take time where you need it.”
* * *
Five stories under the surface of the capital city of Kordinev, an elevator opened to allow its passengers out. They strolled onto a broad semicircular deck and Shinigami gave a low whistle.
The cavern was massive. It was so big that Barnabas could not begin to guess its volume.
The problem was, things like carriers were so out of scale with a human body that the eye could barely encompass what it was looking at. He had to look twice, three times, even four times, before he accepted what he was seeing. It was still difficult to believe.
“The Brakalons have a fleet?” he asked.
“Yes.” General Fedranor was amused by Barnabas’ expression, but more amused by the mute astonishment of Ferqar and Jeltor. “Assembled in secret and hidden here, where even fairly detailed scans would miss them under the activity of the city.”
Shinigami whistled again.
“And you’ve just been waiting for when you needed to use them,” Jeltor said quietly, in awe. “Well, now’s the right time.”
“Agreed,” Fedranor said. “If not now, when? When the Jotun fleet arrives, we’ll have a surprise for them.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Barnabas.” Shinigami appeared in the hallway as a projection.
“You’re looking particularly bloody-minded,” Barnabas observed. She was wearing red armor several shades darker than blood, and somehow managed to be more menacing because of it. A cape fluttered from her shoulders in an unseen wind, held up by gold wolfs’-head clasps on her pauldrons. She held a helmet under her arm.
“Good. I’m feeling particularly bloody-minded.” She got a glint in her eye, and Barnabas reflected that with most people, the glint would be figurative. With her, it was not. It was a literal glint, and it was red.
“You realize you don’t need the helmet,” he pointed out.
“Do I get on your case about how you dress while you’re on the ship?”
“No.” Barnabas gave her an unrepentant smile and picked an imaginary speck of dust off one sleeve. “But I dress irreproachably.”
“Oh, really?” Shinigami cracked her knuckles. “One second—let me just limber up before absolutely annihilating you.”
“Wasn’t there something you had wanted to talk to me about?” Barnabas asked a bit hastily. He liked this suit. He was not prepared to have Shinigami tear it to figurative shreds just to make a point.
“Oh. Right.” She nodded. “Three things: there’s a planning meeting on the surface, Tafa is ready to come out of the Pod-doc already, and Jeltor says he needs to talk to you before you go down to the surface.”
“Hmm. Let’s start with Tafa.”
“You got it, Al Capone.”
“Hey!” Barnabas scowled as Shinigami sauntered off down the hall, snickering. He caught up with her a few moments later. “I am a lot better looking than Al Capone.”
“Okay, I will give you that.” She reached to open a door for him, the motion so smooth and effortless that he was through the door before he realized she’d timed her projection perfectly with the ship opening the door.
“That was impressive.”
“Wasn’t it? What must it be like to only be in one place at once, with no cool toys to play with?” She flexed her holographic hand, clearly pleased, and then made a giant flaming sword appear. “Oooh, I like this.”
“You’re wearing red armor and have a flaming sword, and you’re getting on my case about my suit?”
“It’s definitely not as cool as a flaming sword.”
“Clothing should be about being neat,” Barnabas admonished her severely. “Not being flashy.”
“Oh, don’t sell yourself short. You look very dapper.”
“Thank you,” Barnabas replied cautiously. He found himself more than a little worried that this was a trap of some kind.
He was right. “I’m sure Aliana would approve,” Shinigami added, smiling beatifically.
“Listen here, now is no time to be talking about that. There is a fleet on the way which is commanded by an exceedingly capable admiral, and we have a planet-wide defense to plan.” Barnabas stared Shinigami down and waited.
She didn’t say anything.
He cracked. “Do you really think she would like the suit?”
Shinigami cackled.
“What are you two talking about?” Tafa broke in.
Both Barnabas and Shinigami jumped and looked at her.
“I’m so sorry, Tafa,” Barnabas said after a moment. “We were, uh—”
“Arguing about clothes,” Tafa finished. She swung her legs over the side of the Pod-doc, pushed off with her arms in an attempt to jump down, and managed to launch herself halfway across the room. “Oh, God! What the hell?”
“I should have mentioned,” Shinigami murmured. She cleared her throat. “You’re…a little stronger than you’re used to right now. Be careful with it.”
“Yes, that…would have been good to know before I threw myself on the ground.” Tafa got up, moving very slowly and carefully.
“How do you feel?” Barnabas asked her.
“Well, I would say that I felt better before I got all bruised, but…” Tafa checked herself, “the bruises are already gone.”
“Yes, that part is nice.” Barnabas smiled. “Otherwise you feel good, though, yes?”
“Yes.” Tafa smiled. “Remarkably good. I think…is my vision better?”
“Ah, yes.” Shinigami smiled. “I made several adjustments in addition to strengthening you. Your vision and hearing have improved, the bones in your wrists and elbows were moved very slightly so that you’ll get fewer tendon issues in the future, and your allergy to lactose is gone.”
“I can have ice cream now?” Tafa demanded. She had been overjoyed to discover the human treat and crestfallen when it made her sick.
“You can have ice cream now,” Shinigami confirmed. “In fact, I’ll make a bowl for you in the kitchen. With whipped cream, which you didn’t even get to try before.”
“I’m going to go right now! I’m so hungry.” Tafa took off at high speed, clipped the door frame, and ran into the wall on the opposite side of the corridor. “Oops! Still learning!” Her voice echoed back as she ran.
Barnabas was laughing as he looked after her. “I was worried about her being too timid. I didn’t guess she would go full Gar on us.”
“What?” Gar stuck his head around the door. “I heard my name. Also, I thought Tafa was here.”
“Tafa is in the kitchen eating ice cream,” Barnabas told him. “Unless she’s managed to punch through a wall by accident.”
“Speaking as the one with the ship-wide diagnostics, she’s given it a couple of good shots,” Shinigami said, rolling her eyes.
Barnabas laughed.
“I’ll go find her,” Gar said. “Unless…do you need me for anything?”
“I’ll be going down to the surface for a planning meeting shortly,” Barnabas told him. “I just need to speak to Jeltor first. I suspect we won’t be able to bring everyone. They probably don’t even want me there, but I want to make sure I know what’s going on and that they’re taking Ferqar and Gilwar’s advice.”
“Good call,” Shinigami agreed. “Should we go talk to Jeltor first?”
“Yes.” Barnabas nodded and flashed Gar a smile. “Keep an eye on Tafa for now. You know how disorienting it can be to suddenly have that much strength.”
Gar headed off with a nod, and Barnabas and Shinigami made their way through the ship to Jeltor’s quarters. The door slid open for them before they even knocked, showing that Jeltor had given them a tacit invitation to come in, but as they walked into the room, they heard
the sound of crying.
“It isn’t what I wanted,” Jeltor was saying. “I didn’t want any of this, Jelina. But my regret—it’s for you. It’s for the children. You didn’t deserve to get caught up in this.”
“You didn’t deserve to get caught up in this!” Jelina’s voice, even the mechanical voice from the biosuit, was wracked with pain. “Haven’t you suffered enough? You’ve been tortured, Jeltor, and you didn’t know who you were, but you found your way out. Haven’t you done enough? Haven’t you helped enough?”
Jeltor said nothing.
Almost in a whisper, Jelina asked, “Isn’t there anyone else?”
“No.” In that one word there was certainty. “Jelina, there isn’t anyone else, I swear. If there were…”
“If there were, you would still do this because of your damned honor!” She flared, angry. “You’d say it was your responsibility. I know you.” There was a long pause. “And it’s part of what I love about you,” Jelina whispered finally, defeated. “Jeltor, I understand. I know why you’re doing this. I just…wish things were different.”
“I know. So do I.” Jeltor sounded devastated. “I would give anything for it to be different, but the Admiral needs to be turned back, or I don’t even know how many lives will be lost. And I’m the only one who’s been there and come back.”
“I know.” Jelina sounded like she was going to cry again. “At least you’re dying as you, Jeltor, not as what they tried to make you.”
“Yes.” He sounded grateful. “Yes. I am glad we got to speak again.”
Barnabas had heard enough. He strode into the room, and Jeltor swung to face him. On the monitors, Jelina looked over.
“No one is going to die for this,” Barnabas announced. He held up a hand when Jeltor would have spoken. “No, you listen. We didn’t get you back so you could throw yourself away in a Pyrrhic victory. I agree that Admiral Jeqwar needs to be re-converted, and I agree that you should be involved, but that’s no reason to do things… Shinigami, what’s the polite way to say this?”
“Don’t be polite,” Shinigami advised. She looked at Jeltor. “You’re doing this the stupidest way possible,” she explained. “Don’t do that.”
Barnabas threw up his hands and looked heavenward for patience.
“What? The fleet’s arriving in five hours, so we don’t have the time to be all pretty and flouncy.”
Barnabas shook his head and looked at the screen. “Jelina, I am so sorry to cut this short, but would you mind if we spent some time planning with Jeltor? Please believe me when I say that I will find a way to have him help without putting him in undue danger. I give you my word.”
Jelina hesitated, then nodded. “Jeltor, I love you. Listen to Barnabas.”
“I…I will. I love you. Tell the kids I love them.” Jeltor seemed ready to break down.
“I will.” She, at least, seemed reassured by Barnabas’ words. She ended the call.
“All right,” Barnabas said briskly when Jeltor sat staring blankly at the black screen. “I know you were sure you were going to die and that would be the last time you would see her, but I’ll be damned if I let that happen. And frankly I’ve been closer to being damned than most people, so I know what I’m talking about.”
Jeltor gave a weak laugh.
“That’s better.” Barnabas pulled chairs over for him and Shinigami, and sat on one, smiling as she perched on the other. Fake cloaks apparently did not get snarled up on chairs. “So, what was your plan?”
“To infiltrate the flagship,” Jeltor said miserably. “I thought I would try to appeal to her, call her back...” When his voice trailed off, Barnabas realized what Jeltor was hinting at and why he was so miserable.
He was prepared to kill Admiral Jeqwar if he needed to.
“It won’t come to that,” he assured the captain. “We’ll find a way to cut her off from the fleet if we need to. And I wonder…is there a way to get you inside her head without being present on the ship?”
All of them pondered this for a few moments.
“There might be,” Shinigami said finally. “So much is going through the system when an admiral takes control of the fleet. It shouldn’t be difficult to sneak a few more signals in, in a way that they won’t be able to find them for a while. With some help from our Jotun friends, I should be able to learn enough about the mechanisms to do that. The catch…”
“Yes?” Barnabas lifted an eyebrow.
“I’d have to be in the middle of the battle,” Shinigami said. “I don’t think I can do it from the ground.”
Barnabas chewed his lip, but Jeltor laughed. “That sounds like old times,” he said. “We faced down the Yennai fleet, and we can do this. At least I know this fleet well.”
“That’s the spirit,” Shinigami said encouragingly. She cocked her head to the side. “Barnabas, the team on the ground has a plan, and General Vidrelor has offered to brief you on it.”
Barnabas groaned and got to his feet. “He just hates having me involved, doesn’t he?”
“He does,” Shinigami confirmed. “He hates it so much. But think of it this way: the fact that he’s still including you is an incredible measure of respect for your abilities.”
“I suppose there’s that.” Barnabas looked at Jeltor, then Shinigami. “So you have a plan, then? A way to get to the admiral without putting Jeltor in too much danger?”
Shinigami hesitated, then laid her plan out for him. It was dangerous, Barnabas had to admit that, but it was also very sound—and safer than Jeltor’s plan. He looked at Jeltor.
Jeltor nodded once. “It’s no more dangerous than being in any part of that battle,” he said, “and good people, sailors and captains, are involved now. You’re right, I don’t have to do this the stupid way…but I’m not going to sit it out either. Tell Vidrelor what we’ll be doing.”
“I will,” Barnabas assured him. He considered. “All right. I’m going to take Tafa and Gar, and I’ll send the people you need back in a Pod. I’ll see you all after the battle.”
Shinigami gave him a salute that somehow managed to be ironic and serious at the same time, genuine respect showing under her mischievous smile. Jeltor nodded deeply to Barnabas.
“You keep saving my life,” he observed. “I’ll have to repay you for that.”
“You can buy me some juice at Aebura’s when we’re done,” Barnabas told him with a grin, and he made his way out of the room to get dressed for the battle.
He was whistling as he went, an old tune he’d long since forgotten the name of, and it occurred to him to wonder how he could be so happy on the eve of a battle.
He knew why, of course. Still, he told himself it was the fact that all of this would be done soon. The Committee was finally outflanked and outplayed. They had no idea they were going to face down a Brakalon fleet when they arrived. The Committee would be ended, and the long process of justice could begin.
Yes. That was why he was so happy.
Chapter Thirty
Senator Torsen insisted on being on the bridge when the Jotun fleet arrived at Kordinev. It made Admiral Jeqwar want to beat her body against the wall of her tank, but she floated motionless in the central canister, her biosuit standing nearby, lifeless. From her position on the bridge, she could see everyone, and they could see her.
A large series of connections at the top and bottom of the tank gave her input from each of the ships in the fleet and allowed her to send signals back. If she tuned out the sensory data she received from her own body, she could feel the fleet around her—little pinpricks with different signatures, showing her which were accelerating and which were decelerating, which were arming missiles, and which were in communications with other ships. In a battle, she would be able to sense this not only about her own fleet but about the enemy ships that could be seen by their sensory arrays.
Because of this, she was the first one to notice the other fleet.
It was only by a split-second, of course. Almost instanta
neously, the klaxons blared to life and the bridge descended into carefully-channeled chaos.
There was a moment, however, when she was the only one who knew, and she saw the game shift and change before her eyes. This had been almost dishonorable before, arriving at a planet that had no hope of defending itself. Now there was another fleet.
She knew the disappointment of a thwarted plan and the exhilaration of the coming fight.
Then she swung into motion. While Senator Torsen was still ducking—to get away from what? the admiral wondered contemptuously—and bobbing stupidly in her tank, Admiral Jeqwar took control of the fleet seamlessly and without hesitation. The formation spread into two wings at the sides, with contingents of fighters both above and below the flagship and a single spear thrusting toward Kordinev.
“Admiral Jeqwar!” Senator Torsen was babbling something about plans and Qarwit and all manner of useless rules and checklists the admiral had no time for.
“Let them come,” she said, and because she was hooked into the entire system, her words boomed throughout the room and the fleet. “This is why you brought me here. This is what I do. Let us show not only the Brakalons but all species that they can try to stand against us, but they will be cut down.”
* * *
Shinigami had established contact with the Jotun flagship as soon as it was in range of her scanners—which was to say, considerably before it saw them.
The idiots hadn’t even thought to send scout ships. They’d been so damned certain that they knew what was waiting for them, they’d just launched their fleet through space with no plan as to what would happen if anyone stood up to them.
The admiral, at least, had reacted quickly. The formation of the Jotun fleet changed before their eyes, and Shinigami watched from the bridge of each Jotun and Brakalon ship as the two fleets readied for battle.
