Protector (The Vigilante Chronicles Book 7)

by Natalie Grey

  Around the edges of the room, the other soldiers had been pinned by the turrets. The laser sights made it clear that if they fired they would be picked off one by one. Still, in an admirable display of loyalty, they tried.

  They failed on two counts. First, because the turrets truly were an outstanding piece of technology, and Shinigami had easily been able to reprogram them; and second, because they had failed to realize that Gar and Kelnamon were also in the room.

  The turrets and the other members of the team set to work methodically, working their way through the Jotun strike team as holo of the event was beamed back to the Jotun fleet.

  Meanwhile, in the middle of the room, Barnabas dodged the strikes and weapons of the Jotun team as they launched themselves at him in a fury.

  The Jotun strike teams were well-trained in hand-to-hand combat, but none of them came close to matching Barnabas. The Jotuns tended to rely on their technology, using reaction time and brute strength to overpower their foes.

  Their tactics were weak, and Barnabas was easily able to exploit them. One after the other, he punched through their tanks, ripped off their limbs, and destroyed both the suit and the Jotun within.

  When it was over, and the room was finally silent, he looked up to where the cameras were observing.

  “You spent so much time thinking you were superior,” he told the Jotun, “that you never even bothered to check if you were right. And you were wrong.”

  That got their goat, I’ll tell ya. Shinigami was chortling in Barnabas’ mind. They’re pissed as hell.

  Good. Any progress on your mission?

  Coming along. She sounded a bit worried now. I’ll let you know, however we end up having to do this. There’s a small chance we may just initiate the pod ejection into space for her tank and snatch her that way.

  Mmm. Let me know.

  * * *

  On Jotuna D, Qarwit paced and threw glances at the screen in increasing worry.

  This wasn’t how this was supposed to be unfolding. The strike teams had been used dozens of times in his memory, and he had seen them in action. They were unstoppable, a deadly force that infiltrated, found intel, and spread outwards until all targets had been eliminated.

  And now two of his teams had easily been wiped out. Not only that, the Brakalons had a damned fleet.

  He sensed the other Committee members watching him, judging him, and he drew himself up.

  “One strike team is nothing,” he said dismissively. “And if the Brakalons have anyone as good as Admiral Jeqwar, I’ll eat my biosuit.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  The Jotun fighters wove through the Brakalon fleet at top speed, splitting to arc over and under the enemy ships, coalescing and bunching like birds in flight. They had to avoid not only the Brakalon turrets aboard the ships but also their own missiles, which were hurtling toward the Brakalon fleet at unpredictable intervals.

  There had been some disturbance aboard the flagship. They were aware of that, but firing had resumed and they were not going to waste their time wondering what was going on.

  They had dangerous quarry to catch, after all: the Shinigami, elegant and maneuverable, not to mention absolutely deadly. Many of the pilots here had been part of the confrontation with the Yennai fleet weeks ago, and they had seen the Shinigami then.

  It wasn’t clear to them why the Shinigami had been their ally in that fight, only to become their enemy now, but there was broad support for the admiral. Unlike many who rose high, she had earned her place with brilliant tactics and a breathtaking command of the entire fleet.

  If she said that the Brakalons and the Shinigami were their enemies, the pilots were not going to question her.

  The thing was…

  “Blue Leader to flagship,” Captain Horutan radioed back finally.

  There was a pause.

  “Yes?” The communications officer sounded somewhat harried.

  “Are you sure the Shinigami is over here?” Horutan asked.

  “Yes. That’s where the signal is coming from. Why?”

  “Because we should have seen it by now,” Horutan insisted. She calibrated her scanners for the eighth time. “If not on our scanners, then with the naked eye. And we can’t find them anywhere.”

  A new voice came over the line, snapping at them furiously:

  “This is Senator Torsen. You find that ship and you take it out now, do you understand? They are trying to attack the admiral!”

  What that meant, Horutan did not know—nor did she understand why there was a senator on board the flagship. But a threat to the admiral was something she took very seriously.

  “Blue team, spread out,” she instructed. “They’re trying to hurt the admiral, and we’re not going to let them.”

  There was a round of wholehearted agreement. No one was going to touch the admiral. They would make sure of it.

  * * *

  “This is dangerous,” Jeltor murmured to Gilwar as they strode down the corridors. “I shouldn’t have come. Too many of them know me by sight.”

  “Anyone who knows you is likely to be an ally,” Gilwar pointed out. “We have video evidence of what the Committee has done, and they’ll know something happened to you.”

  “If they sound an alarm, though…” Jeltor was worried. “They’re good sailors. They don’t deserve to die for the Committee.”

  “That’s why we’re sticking to side corridors,” Gilwar told him soothingly. “I can incapacitate them if I need to. We just need to be able to drag them into a corner if necessary without too many people seeing.” He looked at Jeltor. “I think you’ve waited long enough, by the way. Try again.”

  The infiltration team of Jeltor, Gilwar, and Ferqar was advancing through side corridors, making for the bridge while Jeltor periodically established contact with the admiral.

  After the first disturbance, she had not been so vulnerable. She had taken back command of the fleet with a single-minded intensity and was making fast, daring maneuvers that left the Brakalons scrambling to mount a defense.

  With such danger, they hadn’t yet been able to mount any sort of offense, and Jeltor feared they might be running out of time. Sooner or later, someone would slip. They would fail to get out of the way in time.

  He knew exactly what was going through Admiral Jeqwar’s head. He had been there, after all, with his conversion fighting his true thoughts and memories. He understood that although his questions to her were gently prying away the conversion, each round of questions spurred an instinctive defense and rush of loyalty.

  In order to turn her back to their side, he would need to allow each rush of loyalty to burn itself out, leaving only the questions and doubt behind. So, between each round of questions, he had waited several minutes.

  His fear was that, as the rushes of loyalty took over, the admiral might do something truly terrible. When Jeltor had been faced with the same trial, he hadn’t been hooked into an entire fleet. He’d been alone in his prison.

  This one, he thought, had to count. This one had to finish it.

  Admiral.

  You again! Her voice sounded fearful. Where are you? My fighters can’t find you.

  Yes, I see them. He wasn’t above fooling her. They’re looking for the wrong thing. As she dropped out of his mind for a moment, no doubt giving them orders to search for a different ship, he said gently, What are you afraid of when you hear my voice? You’re afraid of not supporting the Committee anymore…aren’t you?

  Get out of my head! The voice was horrified, pleading. I’m doing what must be done.

  Slow down and think for a moment, Jeltor advised her. You don’t want to, do you? What they did to you makes you not want to think. Because if you did, you’d want to know why you have to attack the Brakalons.

  We need an army, she said at once.

  Yes. They told me the same thing.

  She had no answer to that.

  So, tell me this, Jeltor asked her. Their small group walked past anot
her group running in the opposite direction, and they saluted. His heart pounded, but the others did not recognize him. They say that we need an army, that the only way to outmaneuver the other species is by taking them over one by one.

  It’s true, she said at once.

  Admiral, it is no flattery to say that you are the greatest tactical mind in generations. If that were true…why wouldn’t you have thought it, yourself?

  There was a long silence.

  Boom, Shinigami said softly in Jeltor’s mind.

  You were listening?

  Of course. Every time you start talking to her, she starts firing like crazy and then it trails off. I’ll try to give the Brakalon fleet a heads up.

  Smart.

  You literally just described an AI.

  Jeltor managed a trembling smile. Since this had begun, he’d been gripped by fear.

  They had made their way through two more turns and were approaching the bridge when Admiral Jeqwar spoke again. Her voice was hushed and fearful.

  Jeltor, I am afraid to think of it. Me! I am afraid to think.

  Jeltor tried to come up with something inspirational to say, something that would stir her to battle, and then he realized that was not what she needed. I am here, he told her. I was afraid, too. Step through the fear. Think the thoughts it doesn’t want you to think. I am here.

  She said nothing for a long time and their group hesitated, out of sight of the bridge doors. They couldn’t stand for much longer without attracting attention.

  Admiral—

  They will kill me when they see that I have turned back. Her voice was tight. Have I—did I kill any of the Brakalons? She seemed to remember, then. I did. All gods forgive me, I took out their rescue ships.

  Right now you must focus on ending this battle, Jeltor said urgently. Can you send a message to the captains without the senators on board knowing?

  Better, she said after a moment, and there was a flash of the commander she had been, capable and confident. I can shut down their ships remotely and broadcast a message about what is going on. But Senator Torsen and her thugs—

  Leave that to us, Jeltor said. To the other two, he said quietly, “We need to move now.”

  They burst out of the shadows and began running for the doors to the bridge. The senator’s personal guard leapt into action at once, leveling their rifles.

  “Stop!”

  “Urgent message for the senator!” Jeltor called back. He wasn’t sure this would work, but he didn’t really mind either way. Of all the people on this ship, he wouldn’t mind killing these two. They were trying to prevent any news from getting onto the bridge.

  “What message?” one of the guards called suspiciously. “Slow down and approach with your hands up or we will take this as a sign of aggression.”

  I need you on the bridge now! Admiral Jeqwar told Jeltor.

  “Aggression it is, I guess,” Jeltor murmured.

  Gilwar gave a snort.

  All three raised their weapons and shot in unison. Jeltor used a technique he’d seen Shinigami and Barnabas use and brought his back leg up to kick out as he reached the door. The force of his kick lifted one of the guards and threw him against the metal.

  Or it would have. Shinigami obligingly forced the doors open at the correct moment, and the guard went sailing into the room.

  The lights dimmed and a voice boomed out, projected to the whole fleet.

  “The senators aboard your ships are traitors. There is no reason to attack the Brakalon fleet. I have been freed from their control and tell you to seize each one aboard their ships. Evidence will be sent to the bridge of each ship.”

  “Shut off that message!” Senator Torsen screamed.

  But she had been right to worry. The Jotuns on the bridge turned, stunned, to where the admiral had forcibly taken command of the fleet and decommissioned all the guns.

  “Just as Jeltor was taken captive by rogue agents in the government, so was I,” she told them. “There, my mind was altered to produce loyalty to a rogue faction of our government. They sought to take your service and turn it to their own ends!”

  “If you won’t do it, I’ll do it myself!” Senator Torsen grabbed a gun from one of her personal guards and leveled it at the admiral’s tank. “Traitor! I knew you were wavering.”

  She didn’t get the chance to shoot.

  “Bridge left shoots!” one of the commanders yelled. “Bridge right, duck!”

  Those on the right of the bridge dropped to the floor as those on the left pulled out their sidearms and shot. Sensory panels exploded across the room, and in the center of it, the senator and her guards were caught in the fire of dozens of weapons.

  When the echoes died down, there was a long pause.

  “Well done,” the admiral said drily. “But next time let’s not destroy quite so much equipment, shall we?”

  There was a laugh and a ragged cheer, and Jeltor felt the tension in his body relax. He floated happily in his tank.

  I’ll tell Barnabas, Shinigami said. A moment later, she added, Actually, do you three want to stay there? Barnabas and I have a rabbit to catch.

  Eh? Gilwar asked.

  Seconded, Ferqar said. I’m confused.

  Qarwit and his personal guard saw what happened on the surface and what happened here, Shinigami reported, with relish. They’re running.

  We’ll stay here, Jeltor said after checking with the others. Good hunting.

  Thank you, Shinigami said. I’ll make a highlights reel, don’t worry.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The Shinigami was racing through the darkness when Barnabas made his way down to the brig.

  Grisor turned to stare at him, and Barnabas didn’t have to know Jotun mannerisms to feel the hatred emanating from the senator.

  “Did you think solitude would turn me?” he asked viciously. “I am as devoted to my cause as I ever was.”

  “That’s nice,” Barnabas said blandly. “Did you know that Qarwit took over in your absence?”

  “I instructed that he should,” Grisor said stiffly. “If you hope to make me turn on him out of jealousy, you will be sadly disappointed.”

  “You really don’t know me at all.” Barnabas leaned in the doorway, arms crossed. “No, you see, I wasn’t looking for anything from you. I just came here to give you some facts.”

  Grisor paused in his pacing. There was wariness in his thoughts now, piercing the absolute certainty he’d had before.

  “The Jotun people will support me,” he asserted finally. Barnabas had seen his assessment: that the Jotun people must know about the Committee by now.

  “Oh, that’s good to hear,” Barnabas commented. “For you, I mean. I personally doubt it, but I guess we’ll see what happens when they find out, won’t we?”

  There was fear in Grisor’s mind now. “What have you done?” he asked, his voice thick with anger.

  “Oh, I hardly think you should be allowed to get angry on that score. Do you?” Barnabas could feel his own anger beginning to stir. “You’re the one who abducted civilians, naval captains, and Lord only knows how many of your own species and others, to torture them into compliance. You’re the one who made plans to forcibly take over other planets. I don’t think you get to ask me what I’ve done, as if I’ve gone and done something rash; something ruinous.”

  You’re getting poetic, Shinigami commented.

  I like words, so sue me. I deserve some dramatic flair now and again.

  Uh-huh.

  “Qarwit knew there wasn’t much time,” Barnabas said. “He did something quite clever, really. He abducted the admiral’s personal aide, Gorsik. Once converted, Gorsik was able to lure the admiral into a trap as well, and they set off for Kordinev at once. Of course, when they got there...” He allowed himself a chuckle. “They found out that all of the captives on the ground were already free, and not only that, the Brakalons had a fleet! Who knew?”

  Pure shock came from Grisor. “You’re joking.�
�

  “I assure you, I am not.” Barnabas offered a small olive branch. “It was a surprise to me, too.”

  Grisor seemed very far from appreciative. “Get on with it, then. The fleet took losses?”

  “Oh, no.” Barnabas was chuckling now. “No, it turns out that Jeltor actually shed his conversion, so he was one of the ones who took out a strike team on the ground, and then he sneaked aboard the flagship and un-converted the admiral, so there were only a couple of ships lost on either side. Whoever the senator was on the flagship, she’s dead, and her guards, and a few of the senators on the other ships…and the Committee’s files have all been sent to the Senate while I take you back to stand trial.”

  Grisor stared at him.

  “That was it,” Barnabas finished. “Qarwit got away, so you’re probably going to take the fall for the invasion—which is fair, really, since you did plan it. Your technology has been destroyed. Only the results of the experimentation have been kept, so no one can rebuild it. You spent decades on this, didn’t you? Now it’s all gone.”

  He gave a smile, pushed himself away from the door, and headed away.

  He had gotten five steps before he won his bet with Shinigami.

  “Wait! What if I knew where Qarwit went?”

  Ha-Ha! Barnabas was triumphant. I told you he had no loyalty to anyone.

  Earlier, you said that people could be honorable and do dishonorable things!

  Sometimes. Sometimes they’re cowardly little shits.

  It’s your fault for confusing me with organic illogic.

  Mmhmm. Barnabas strolled back to the door and peered at Grisor. “How would that help me?” he asked.

  “How would it— I planned the invasion, but he carried it out!” Grisor was practically spitting nails, or would have been if he’d had a mouth. “They’ll hang me out to dry, but he should pay too.”