Ronin (The Pike Chronicles Book 3) (14 page)

Jon stood outside sickbay when Darla and Breeah approached. Breeah had a protective arm around Darla, whose tears had left her eyes puffy and bloodshot.

“Any news?” Breeah asked.

“No, but Doctor Ellerbeck is looking after him. He’s in good hands,” said Jon, trying to reassure Darla.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “What happened down there?”

“The military overthrew the government. We literally had to fight our way out.”

“Then how did you get the Prime Minister on board?” said Darla, looking at Jon with suspicion now.

“We rescued him alongside Doctor Ellerbeck.”

Jon saw the hand coming long before it struck him, but he wouldn’t stop it. Darla slapped him squarely on the cheek, stinging Jon’s deep into his conscience.

“You bastard,” said Darla. “This is your fault.” Her rage spilling out through her tears.

“I’m sorry, Darla,” said Jon. “I tried to protect him.”

“Don’t lie to yourself, Jon Pike. If you had wanted to protect him you would have sent him back to the ship with the shuttle.”

“I couldn’t. The shuttle was ordered back to the ship. The Chaanisar don’t take orders from me.”

She glared at him, but the anger gave way to worry and the sobbing returned. “I can’t lose him,” she cried.

Breeah pulled her close, trying to comfort her. “You won’t lose him. You’ll see. Dr. Ellerbeck can work wonders.”

As if on cue, the door to sickbay slid open and Dr. Ellerbeck emerged. She looked at Darla and said, “Mrs. Seiben?”

“That’s me,” said Darla. “How is he?”

“He’s doing fine,” said Ellerbeck. “I’ve removed the bullet, and administered a course of biobots. He’ll be up and back to himself in a few days.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” said Darla, regaining her composure. “When will I be able to speak to him?”

“You can speak to him right now, if you want. He woke up a few minutes ago. Follow me.”

Darla wiped the tears from her eyes as she followed the Doctor, barely noticing Jon and Breeah in tow.

Seiben lay on a medical bed. He smiled when he saw Darla, but the smile quickly disappeared when he winced in pain.

“Does it hurt?” Darla asked.

“Yeah,” Seiben replied.

“Good,” she said. “You deserve it you old fool.”

“Why do I deserve to get shot?”

“Because you were playing the hero again.”

Seiben glared at Jon. “You just couldn’t keep your mouth shut.”

“He didn’t say anything. I guessed and you just confirmed it. Are you trying to make me a widow?”

“No, of course not. I was just trying to help.” He winced again.

“So now you’re helping the professionals fight? Is that right?”

“He was helpful, actually,” said Jon. When Darla’s eyes shot daggers at him he added, “But I did tell him to keep his head down.”

“Traitor,” said Seiben, and nearly jumped off the bed in pain. “Damn it,” he scowled. “How long are those little bastards going to torture me like this, Doctor.”

“For a day, or two,” said Ellerbeck.

“Wonderful,” Seiben grunted.

Darla punched him in the arm. “Don’t speak to her like that. She saved your worthless life.”

Jon chuckled. “Maybe we should let the old man rest a bit.”

“Quit calling me that.”

“You two go. I’m going to stay and keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

“What happens now?” Breeah asked Jon, as they left sickbay.

“I don’t know,” said Jon. “There’s a civil war raging down there, and we just happen to have the Prime Minister on board.”

“That doesn’t sound like a neutral stance.”

“He and Doctor Ellerbeck are romantically involved. She wouldn’t come with us if we didn’t bring him.”

“What does he want?”

“He wants us to help him.”

“Will you?”

“He is in the right.”

“Are you sure?”

“He fights for freedom. The others are for oppression. There can be no doubt.”

“What does Colonel Bast think?”

“The Chaanisar want their brain chips removed. They have no interest in the planet.”

“Perhaps you need to convince them.”

“Maybe, but I don’t think it’ll be easy.”

“You should try.”

“Let’s see how things play out. Where is Anki? I’d like to see her.”

“She’s with my father. He’s watching her and Darla’s girls.”

“Well, I suppose we’ll have to see him too.”

Anki eyed her grandfather sitting stoically on a chair, his long gray hair spilling out around his shoulders. He had brilliant blue eyes and, despite his ferocity, Anki thought he was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. Otka and Alina sat with her on the floor and while she looked at her grandfather admiringly, they were more than a little trepidatious.

“I don’t think we should bother him,” said Otka.

“Me neither,” said Alina.

“Nonsense,” said Anki.

“But what if he gets mad?” said Otka.

“I’m his granddaughter. He won’t get mad,” said Anki.

“What about us? We’re not his granddaughters.”

“He won’t get mad at you either.”

“He’s scary,” said Alina.

“A little. That’s why he’s perfect,” said Anki. “Besides, look at him. He hasn’t moved from that chair since we got here.”

“He sits so straight. He could be a chair himself,” said Otka.

“A scary chair,” said Alina.

“See what I mean?” said Anki. “He needs to relax a little.”

“I don’t think he knows how,” said Otka.

“Maybe not, but I bet we can show him,” said Anki. “Come on.” Anki got up and walked to her grandfather. Otka and Alina followed, but chose to stay well behind.

“Grandfather,” said Anki, looking up at the man. His eyes met hers and she was again stunned by their beauty. They were light blue, almost gray, but there was a sparkle to them that mesmerized her.

“Yes child,” he said, his face stern.

“Will you play with us?”

“Play with you?” he seemed confused.

“Yes. We want you to play a game with us,” said Anki, moving aside and gesturing to Otka and Anki standing behind her.

“I am an old man, child. I cannot play children’s games.”

“Why not?”

“What did you say?”

“Why not? You’re just sitting in a chair. That can’t be very much fun. Play with us.”

“No. You children go on and play with each other.”

“Please.”

His face seemed to soften slightly. “I am too old.”

“Too old? I’ve seen you beat younger men in the matches.”

A hint of a smile crossed his lips. She knew how proud he was of his fighting ability.

“I wouldn’t know how,” he said.

“We’ll teach you. It’s easy. Please.”

He let out a sigh and slapped his thighs with his hands. He looked around the room, then frowned at Anki and said, “What do I have to do?”

“Yay,” said Anki, clapping. “You’re going to be a monster.”

“A monster?”

“Yes, and you have to try and catch us.”

“That’s all?”

“Yes.”

“I think I can do that. When do we start?”

“Right now,” said Anki, giggling. Her giggles must have been contagious because she heard Otka and Alina giggling behind her. Her grandfather looked at them mischievously, but didn’t move. The three girls watched him, their anticipation growing with each second. Anki bent her knees slightly, preparing to run. Her grandfather’s fingers moved first, and slowly curled into claws. She could feel each individual muscle in her leg tightening, beckoning her to run. She tried to stifle her giggles, but focused on her grandfather’s eyes. He had always taught her that the body can deceive. It can trick you into expecting a strike from one limb, when in truth it came from another. The eyes, however, rarely lied. She watched them closely and thought she saw them become brighter. Then he struck.

He jumped from his chair, shot out his claws, and let out a roar. They screamed and ran, as the terrifying creature chased them. It had long blackened claws, and vicious fangs that still dripped blood from a previous kill. Anki ran for the couch. The girls followed. She jumped onto its cushions, climbed over its back and hid in behind. Otka and Alina were right beside her. They crouched down low, hoping the terrible beast wouldn’t find them. She could hear it moving around, scraping the floor with its razor sharp claws. When it roared, she covered her ears to dampen the deafening sound. Then it stopped. She thought she heard its breath and looked up to see long bloody fangs. A hand swiped down at the girls and they ran, screaming, the sharp claws grazing her back. She heard another blood curdling roar, and screamed as she ran for the kitchen table.

The door suddenly burst open and Jon ran in. Jon, with weapon in hand, scanned the room, Breeah alert beside him. The girls stopped screaming, and the monster turned back into her grandfather.

“Put that thing away before you hurt someone,” he scolded Jon.

“We heard screams,” said Breeah.

“The girls were playing,” said her grandfather.

Anki jumped out from under the table and said, “Grandfather was playing with us.”

“Really?” said Breeah, looking curiously at her father. “What were you playing?”

“We were playing monsters,” said Anki.

Breeah nodded and smiled. Her grandfather straightened his back and grunted.

Jon put away his weapon and said, “Aren’t you going to say hi to me, kid?”

Anki grinned, running straight into Jon’s arms, who picked her up and gave her a hug.

“My mom was worried about you,” said Anki.

“Weren’t you?” said Jon.

“No, I knew you’d be ok.”

“I was not worried either,” said grandfather.

Jon frowned, “There’s a surprise.

“See,” said Anki. “Both me and Grandfather knew you’d come back.”

“Well I’m glad you and your grandfather have so much confidence in me,” said Jon.

Jon and Kevin walked into the Chaanisar conference room. Already seated at the long table were Colonel Bast, Lieutenant Jarvi, Doctor Ellerbeck, and Prime Minister Sallas. He and Kevin took chairs at the end of the table. Colonel Bast nodded at them and began the meeting.

“Now that we are back on board and settled, it is time to discuss next steps. We have jumped safely away from New Byzantium-”

“I’m sorry, what do you mean by that?” Sallas asked.

If Bast was annoyed by the interruption, he didn’t show it. “I mean that we are no longer in orbit around New Byzantium. Nor are we in the same star system.”

“But I need to get back down to the planet,” protested Sallas.

“I understand that, Prime Minister. Unfortunately, in the process of rescuing you and Doctor Ellerbeck our ship sustained considerable damage, and we need to safely conduct repairs. We cannot do so in orbit around your world where we will continuously be under attack.”

Sallas sat back into his chair, looking dejected, but choosing not to pursue the matter.

“We have several important matters to discuss. Doctor Ellerbeck, you are aware of our situation and our desire to remove our brain chips?”

“Yes,” said Ellerbeck.

“Do you believe you can successfully complete the procedure?”

“The surgery is not without risks, Colonel. I have removed the chips before, but never on a live patient. I do not know how your brain will react. You have had these implants since you were children. There’s no telling how reliant your physiology has become to the technology. Removing it could cause serious side effects.”

“We are not concerned with the side effects,” said Bast.

“You should be. There is a very real possibility of brain damage,” said Ellerbeck.

“Doctor Ellerbeck,” said Jarvi. “Anything is preferable to being a Juttari slave. Even brain damage, although I would prefer death.”

“As would I,” said Bast. “I’m sure every Chaanisar on board this ship would feel the same. Now, suppose the procedure is a success. How long would it take to recover?”

“Again, it is difficult to say,” said Ellerbeck. “We are talking about brain surgery. Even with the help of biobots, I can’t see recovery being any less than a week, maybe two.”

“I’m sorry,” said Sallas, urgently. “But we don’t have that kind of time. We need to get back to New Byzantium and help General Calledonius.”

“What do you mean when you say ‘we’ need to get back and help?” asked Bast.

“I need to get back to the planet,” said Sallas, correcting himself. “And I do have a proposition to make.”

“Proceed,” said Bast.

“My people have worked for generations to bring democracy to New Byzantium.”

“Hang on a second,” said Jon. “I thought you said that you brought democracy to New Byzantium.”

“That is correct. Due to my position, I was able to push through the change. However, there has been a pro-democracy movement on New Byzantium for a long time. Every planet in the colonies has a pro-democracy movement. It has been a long struggle, with many setbacks, but when we finally succeeded, New Byzantium became the first planet in the colonies to establish a democratic government. As you saw, there are many who would like to see us fail, and they’re prepared to take drastic action to see that happen.”

“I understand your situation,” said Bast. “But we are not from your planet. Nor are we from these colonies. Why should we pick sides in what is essentially a civil war?”

Sallas took a deep breath. “You should pick sides, Colonel. We are on the side of freedom. We are the one faint light of hope in this corner of the galaxy. If Sol had not fallen to the Juttari all those years ago, we would have had representation. Eventually we could have gained independence from Sol itself. We would have never have had to endure the absurdity of corporate rule.”

“Forgive me, Prime Minister, but I still don’t see why the Chaanisar should fight for you,” said Bast.

“Because you won’t be fighting for me, or my planet. You see, I understand you better than you know. You are all Ronin.”

“Ronin?” asked Bast.

Sallas smiled. “A term from Earth’s history, from Japan’s feudal period. During this time Japan had a thriving warrior culture. These men were expert swordsman called samurai. They devoted their lives to training in the various arts of war. They also spent their lives in the service of a lord. This lord was their master until the day they died. Sometimes, for various reasons, a samurai found himself without a lord. He became known as a Ronin, which is simply a masterless samurai. Many samurai considered the title a disgrace. They wanted to serve a master. There were some, however, who sought freedom. These rare samurai chose which causes they would commit themselves to. They chose the battles in which they would fight. Musashi, for example, the greatest samurai in history, was himself a Ronin.”

Sallas looked at Bast and Jarvi. “You still call yourselves Chaanisar, yet that is a title bestowed on you by your previous masters, the Juttari. You are not Chaanisar. You serve no master.”

Sallas looked over to Jon, “And you, Captain Pike? You no longer take orders from Space Force, do you?”

Jon glanced at Ellerbeck and said, “It sounds like the good doctor have been doing a lot of talking.”

“She has explained a lot to me. I know what happened on the Hermes. I also know that you believe in freedom. I’m not asking any of you to fight for me. I don’t want to be your master. I am asking you to choose this cause. I am asking you to fight for freedom.”

“And what of our freedom?” said Bast. He pointed to his head and said, “Every minute these chips remain in our brains puts us at risk of becoming Juttari slaves again.”

“I understand. Believe me, I do. It is just that my planet is running out of time. We need help now. We cannot wait two weeks. If we do, all may very well be lost.”

Ronin. Jon had never heard the word before, but he had to admit, it did fit. He could sympathize with Sallas’s cause. He hated the likes of General Juneau. Not only did he remind him of the Governors back on Earth, but also of some in Space Force. Admiral Walsh came to mind. He served the Diakans first, before their own people.

“I’ll help,” said Jon, surprising himself. “You’re right,” he said to Sallas. “I prefer to choose what causes I fight for. I can’t think of a better cause than freedom.”

“Thank you,” said Sallas.

Jon looked over to Bast and said, “Drop us off at the planet. You can then go and have your procedure.”

Bast didn’t respond, but Jon noticed his left eye twitch. Jarvi’s eye twitched in reply. He wondered how much they would miss their brain chips when they were gone.

The eyes steadied and Bast turned to Sallas. “You are correct, Mr. Sallas. We should no longer consider ourselves Chaanisar.” He paused, as if to collect his thoughts. “You must understand that we have been programmed since childhood. In some ways we are more machine than human. We want to find our humanity again, yet we know how different we have become.” He looked over at Jon. “We are no longer the machines who killed those you loved. Yet we are not the children who once called Earth home. We can never return.” He turned to Sallas again and said, “We have been so determined to remove our brain chips that we have not fully considered what we would become without them. We will never be accepted back at Sol. I know that. But we do need a purpose. Perhaps you have given us one. Perhaps we are Ronin.”

“I don’t understand,” said Sallas. “Does that mean you’ll help?”

“Yes, Mr. Sallas. We will help.”