Gigi (15 page)

Chapter Twelve

Insanity

Delays were costly in any business. No one knew it better than T’nbros. After all, he was the head of a vast commercial empire. He lied and deceived others if that would turn him a profit. Dealing with disreputable creatures was part of the game. That was why when he needed someone to break his daughter out of prison he’d hired the best Jog’nafan mercs.

He arrived at the maximum security prison to discover Gaal’ya foolishly trying to free Zu’thro from solitary confinement. He’d been wounded by the jid’rahal’s mate and had vowed revenge if he got out. His daughter wanted Amada dead, because she viewed the Earthling as competition. Before the wormhole incident, she’d been chosen to carry the jid’rahal’s first born.

T’nbros had done everything in his power to help his daughter, including filing an injunction to keep the branded couple apart. After she’d been sent to prison, he’d no other option but to hire the mercs. They were due to attack several hours after his arrival. Nobody would suspect him, assuming the mercs acted on their own.

He planned to take his daughter to Reyst 5, a planet outside Protectorate jurisdiction. They had several medical facilities specializing in neuro reprogramming. To some their techniques were outdated and barbaric, but he was running out of choices. No one in Pendo’rah knew of her condition. He’d made sure of it. The warrior house would’ve never agreed to the mating if they knew his daughter’s affliction.

The simple truth was he couldn’t afford to have her locked up. Eventually someone would figure it out. The name Mal’cious could be replaced by another clan in the merchant house. All his life he’d worked with one purpose only—to become the most powerful man on Pendo’rah.

Having a mentally unstable daughter in prison accused of treason wasn’t an option. He’d known for a time she’d inherited her mother’s insanity. He couldn’t ignore the signs anymore. Few Pendo’rahns knew the truth about the virus. Common knowledge was it’d killed many. The surviving females had been changed. The hidden truth was the fact some of them became paranoid. Medical gly-urq helped to some extent, but as the female neared her first k’lyaa, the symptoms escalated.

Gaal’ya’s condition was hastened after learning about the branded couple and their offspring. Her desire for revenge consumed her completely. As a last act against the House of Prahn-kril, she’d asked him to file for restitution. This time she’d asked for Dru-lah’s first born. The magistrate had agreed, ordering the first commander to comply with the demand. She was now pregnant and T’nbros feared for his grandchild’s fate.

The council had denied his request to bring his daughter home during her pregnancy. They’d claimed he was under investigation and his daughter was considered an enemy of the Protectorate. With his grandchild’s future hanging in the balance, he saw no other alternative but to take her away.

During the past few months, he’d discreetly transferred part of his personal assets to a secret account outside the Protectorate controlled repository. He was losing a huge part of his wealth, but he knew how to recoup most of it in time. T’nbros also had three other children produced by different mothers. He needed to get out before it was too late.

He was almost there when the red alert sounded. According to the sensor grid, ten fully-armed Jog’nafan ships were on their way. T’nbros smelled a doublecross. He’d only hired three merc ships. A full pack meant the Jog’nafan planned an all-out attack. He needed to move fast and get his daughter out.

“Stand down, guard. I’ve come to see my daughter.”

“Apologies, Lord T’nbros, you know the rules. No one is allowed in during red alert,” the guard replied.

“Listen to me. We’re under attack. I need to make sure my daughter is safe. Move aside and let me pass.”

An explosion rocked the structure hard, throwing both of them clear off their feet. T’nbros landed against the far wall. The guard’s head was crushed under debris. The Jog’nafan had duped him by moving up the timeline. He recovered quickly and had reached out to check the injured guard when his daughter called to him.

“Father, what are you doing here? Come, we have to go before the entire place collapses.”

“You were supposed to wait for me at your cell. How’d you get out?”

“Hurry, my lord, we haven’t time. The place will be crawling with Jog’nafans in less than ten minutes.” Groo’lat urged, entering the room after Gaa’lya.

“Warrior, why are you here with my daughter?”

“It’s a long story, sir. Your daughter and I are going to petition for permanent mate status. I wanted to tell you sooner, but she asked me to wait.”

“Warrior, my daughter will never be your mate. I’m sorry if she deceived you, but she’s carrying another’s child.”

“Does he speak the truth? Did you lie, allowing me to think you held me in such high regard we could become mates?” The warrior’s face contorted in anger as he took a step in her direction.

T’nbros move to stand between them, ready to defend her, but she attacked first.

“You’re such a fool, Groo’lat, to even think I’d consider you for a mate. You’re not even supposed to be here. I planned to be as far away from here as possible, so telling you the truth didn’t even matter. After all, you’re nothing but a lowly warrior without a future or family connections. You disgust me.”

T’nbros blamed no one but himself for what she did next. Gaal’ya grabbed the dead guard’s ro’traal and impaled her would-be mate. Without his armor to protect him, the blade lodged deep in his chest. T’nbros didn’t know why the warrior’s armor was deactivated.

There was a look of utter disbelief on the warrior’s face. Even as callous as T’nbros was he’d never kill one of his own without invoking the right of swift justice. His daughter had just casually driven the blade through him without provocation.

Everything his daughter did was a direct consequence of her upbringing. He’d been lenient with her, hoping to avoid the inevitable. He’d foolishly believed if he gave in to her every whim she’d become emotionally stable.

T’nbros walked over to the dead guard sprawled face down on the floor. The force of the explosion had killed him instantly. His bio-suit oozed underneath. He scooped up a handful, then walked back to Groo’lat and spread the gel over his gaping wound. The nanites weren’t configured for him, but they’d recognize a Pendo’rahn warrior and form a temporary patch. It was a quick fix until his suit began repairs.

“What are you doing? Let the fool die. He’s not worth your efforts,” his daughter screamed, trying to prevent him from spreading the nano-infused gel.

“How could you attack one of our own? I know you’re upset by your confinement, but this isn’t the way. Pendo’rahns don’t kill one another.” T’nbros harshly admonished her. He needed to salvage the situation, and get out before the Jog’nafan descended on the prison.

“Don’t you see, Father? They all must pay for what they’ve done to me. The House of Prahn-kril accused me of treason for exposing the jid’rahal. He’s under alien influence, but no one will listen. Now they’ll see what true destruction is.”

T’nbros grabbed her arm, then headed quickly to the exit. If news of her condition reached Pendo’rah his other children might be taken under medcomm custody. Maybe it was already too late for her, but he had to try and save his unborn grandchild. They were almost at the door when Security Chief Mah’yanna came rushing in.

“T’nbros, I knew you were vindictive and power hungry, but I never thought you’d turn against your own.”

“Step aside, security chief. My daughter and I are leaving now. No one else should get hurt.”

“Just kill her and be done with it, Father. They’ll think you betrayed them to the Kreeh-nosh. You’ll never convince them otherwise.”

“Kreeh-nosh? We’re being attack by the Jog’nafan, my daughter, not the Kreeh-nosh,” he told her softly, thinking her mind was already gone, unable to recall their plan.

“No, it’s you who doesn’t understand, Father. The Jog’nafan
are
the distraction. Two of the largest colonies are on their way. I’ll be free. Zu’thro will resume command and kill the Earthling.”

A groan coming from the floor ended her rant. Explosions shook the entire place. It was becoming unstable and pretty soon they’d be buried underneath if they didn’t get out. Screams could be heard coming from different levels as prisoners tried to escape the Jog’nafan. There was no time to spare.

“Security Chief Mah’yanna, follow me. We must get out before the entire building collapses.”

“No, I’m taking you and your daughter into my custody. You’ll face the Protectorate council on charges of treason and terrorism.”

“I’ll face whatever disciplinary action they charge me with. For now, security chief, I need you to follow me.”

“Please, security chief, follow Lord T’nbros before it’s too late.”

Groo’lat was conscious again, thank the goddess. His quick thinking had saved him. His daughter didn’t need another charge against her. The penalty for killing another Pendo’rahn without justification was death.

“Warrior Groo’lat, why are you here and not on board the
Toq’ma’lal
?” The security chief asked her team member, a look of puzzlement on her face.

“It’s a long story, security chief. With all due respect, we haven’t time for that now. You must go.”

“I’d never leave one of mine behind. Assist me, Lord T’nbros.”

Time seemed to slow down as a tableau of horrific events unfolded in front of them. A group of Jog’nafans rushed through the door. Security Chief Mah’yanna charged them, skillfully wielding her ro’traal. The room filled with mercenaries, their weapons drawn. While some fought the security chief most of them just stood there waiting.

“Let me pass. I’m taking the women to my cruiser. You can do whatever you like after we’re gone.” His orders fell on deaf ears. The mercs didn’t move an inch.

“We don’t take orders from you anymore, T’nbros. We found a better paying customer.”

The pack leader growled, smirking confidently. He should’ve known better than to hire those creatures to create a diversion.

“I’m not surprised. Frankly, I don’t care as long as we get out alive. Now step aside. Security chief, Gaal’ya, follow me. We’re leaving now.”

“I think you got this all wrong, T’nbros. Gaal’ya?”

The Kreeh-nosh walking through the door wasn’t a warrior. T’nbros reached for his pulse weapon, but his daughter stepped into the line of fire and snatched it out of his hands.

“Who are you?” Why was his daughter protecting a Kreeh-nosh?

“I’m T’zaal, leader of the colonies. Your daughter helped free my comrade, Zu’thro. She’s proven to be very knowledgeable and loyal.”

“You’re just a scientist with no real command. I demand to know who’s in charge so I can secure safe passage.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, T’nbros. I’m in charge of two colonies and this pack of Jog’nafans. You have nothing to barter with.”

He’d been defeated. The Kreeh-nosh had a foothold in the prison. Security Chief Mah’yanna wasn’t faring better. One of the creatures pointed his pulse weapon at her neck and fired a low-yielding charge, disrupting her biosuit’s neuro-link.

Her armor sloughed off, leaving her exposed against their blows. They attacked from all sides, hitting and kicking her after she fell onto the floor. The pack leader placed a collar around her neck and maglocked her hands behind her back.

“Whatever amount he’s paying I’ll triple it if you let us go. Name your price and it’s yours.” He tried to entice the mercs back to his side, offering more credits. As much as he despised the warrior’s house, he couldn’t allow them to treat a Pendo’rahn female like common trash. They rejected his offer, laughing.

“Enough, Father. Stop stalling for time.”

Gaal’ya looked at him, her eyes blazing with hatred and pointed the pulse weapon in his direction. Four mercs carrying a portable satellite unit followed her. Working quickly, she linked it to the station’s holovid. Why was his daughter restoring long-range communications?

“T’zaal, communications has been restored. I’ve programmed the link with a forty-eight-hour delay. That should give us enough time to reach the edge of the sector. You can begin.”

T’nbros knew everything that had transpired until now had been recorded by surveillance. Their plan was to disrupt all holovid feeds by destroying the station’s satellites. The Labonian was supposed to plant a computer virus to erase any trace of their part in the attack. He was certain that wasn’t the case.

Once they restored the satellite link, T’zaal made his demands. Zu’thro joined in, dragging the one-armed Labonian behind. The Kreeh-nosh had only one ultimatum—they wanted the Earthlings. Hearing their threats while beating one of his own was a harsh reminder of how deep he was in.

After today, T’nbros would never be able to return to Pendo’rah. He’d made many mistakes, and had trusted the wrong people in his quest for power. His other children would grow up without him, cursing his name. If he died today, it’d be without honor. It was crazy how he’d never cared about their motto of honor, loyalty, strength. Maybe he hadn’t, because he’d lacked all three of them. His daughter certainly didn’t feel any loyalty for him.

“Gaal’ya, come with me, daughter. We’ll go away together. I promise no one is going to lock you up again.” He reached out in a last attempt to reason with her, but she swung around and pointed the weapon at him.

“You’re right,
Lord
T’nbros. No one will ever lock me away. Goodbye, Father.”

* * * *

Mah’yanna arrived at the maximum security prison in time to witness the Jog’nafan attack. She ordered her elite warriors to prepare for deployment, then sent an urgent message to Pendo’rah. It was worse than they’d thought. The intel was correct. A pack of Jog’nafans attacked the prison.

Her sensors’ readings showed the sophisticate shield around the facility was down. She detected multiple structural breaks and their main systems were offline. This was no coincidence. It was an inside job.