Star Carrier (Lost Colonies Trilogy Book 3) (29 page)

“An apt analogy,” I said, “but the Stroj are not as bad as the variants.”

“Why not?”

“Because the Stroj never commit genocide. They want trophies and sport. They keep their defeated enemies alive to toy with them. The variants are far more ruthless and efficient. They’re only interest is in the complete annihilation of all life other than their own.”

Okto began pacing around my office. It was a startling effect. Her head nearly reached the ceiling. Her wild black hair was longer than Zye’s and cascaded down her back. Her massive legs swung through the furniture as if she were unaware of it.

“All right,” she said at last. “We’ll fight at your side, but only for a single battle. After that, Sparhawk, your life will not be worth one nanogram more.”

I nodded, accepting her terms. I felt it was the best I was going to get.

“Very well. Let’s discuss our plans.”

-51-

For two days, we watched from a safe distance as the variant fleet cruised from planet, to outpost, to moon, destroying everything. They ignored us, seemingly intent on their systematic tour of destruction.

Okto used that time wisely, repairing her three ships. During their voyage through the gravity-magnifying slice of hyperspace, they’d suffered quite a bit of damage to their internal components. Many sensitive sub-systems were out of compliance and in drastic need of maintenance.

On the second day, I managed to convince Okto to allow
Defiant
to help. We sent two of my variants to each of her vessels to speed up the process. She was astounded by their efficiency.

“No wonder,” she told me at the end of the second day, “Earth was able to build a first-class fleet so quickly. Our admirals didn’t see how it could be done. We argued that you Earthlings must have been hiding the battleships somehow—but that didn’t make any sense.”

“No,” I agreed. “If we’d had the ships, we would have used them to defend Earth during previous battles.”

She was a looming presence in my office again. We were communicating privately using my implant.

She’d become accustomed to the effect of perception-transference by now, and she seemed relaxed, even enjoying herself. She sat on my couch and studied me with large, piercing eyes.

“Hmm…” I said, having seen her expression on Zye’s face before. “Tell me, Okto, is it true you Alphas have males on your home world?”

She turned cool at the question.

“Rude,” she said. “Poorly played.”

“Uh… how so? I meant no offense.”

“And yet, you have offended. Earth men are truly uncouth creatures, just as Betas have always said.”

She was beginning to annoy me, so I changed the topic.

“Fine,” I said, “let’s go back to discussing strategy. If we can get the Stroj to agree—”

“No. No strategy talk,” she said abruptly. “We will discuss your previous point. It’s unfair, but starship captains don’t have sufficient status to be awarded a male.”

“I see…” I said. “Could that be because placing a male aboard one of your ships might be… disruptive to the crew?”

She looked like a cat that had been petted for one second too long.

“A groundless theory,” she said. “Alpha captains are among the most accomplished of our kind, and yet we must be denied.”

“Couldn’t you have a male living at home, waiting for your return?”

She stared at me for a moment, her eyes still narrowed. Then she let out a sudden laugh. “I suspected that you understood nothing about us. It’s clear now that you do not. Once allowed a male, we wouldn’t be able to tolerate such a long separation.”

Frowning, I began to nod. She was right in a way, about my knowledge of Beta customs. I only knew Zye. I knew her well, but that was different from knowing her entire people.

But what Okto was telling me did fit. Zye had always exhibited a strong sex-drive and was extremely possessive. During the brief time that we were intimately involved, she’d become something of a stalker. Her preoccupation with me made it difficult to perform my duties as captain.

With only one individual to study, I’d had no idea how much of Zye’s personality was uniquely hers, and how much was a reflection of traits shared with all her sisters. Now, I was more able to see how much she really
was
like her sisters.

They were usually denied normal sexual relationships, but they desired them. One might even say they could become obsessed rather easily.

A warning chime went off in my mind as these thoughts passed through it. When I’d rescued Zye, and later defeated her in various contests of will, she’d become obsessed with me. Could that same pattern be playing out again with Okto? The thought was alarming.

Okto was like a meaner version of Zye. She wasn’t an oppressed rogue, accustomed to controlling her emotions and hiding her intentions. Instead, she was a starship captain—and a leader among even that elite group. Who knew what kinds of fanciful ideas she was entertaining?

Reflecting on these matters, it occurred to me that Okto had been spending quite a bit of time strutting about my office in these virtual meetings. After our first such encounter, she’d insisted upon more one-to-one discussions.

Clearing my throat, I called the meeting to a close. We were ready to proceed to the next stage which would involve Lorn.

Reluctantly, Okto signed off and vanished. Moving quickly to the command deck, I contacted Lorn.

“Is it time?” he asked eagerly.

I sighed. “Yes it is. I’ll have you escorted to the command deck.”

“Unnecessary,” he said, “I’d never choose a glorious moment like this to self-detonate. The mere idea is preposterous. This is going to be my finest hour.”

Although I believed him, I didn’t waver from my security protocols. Two marines brought him swiftly to my deck.

He wore no chains, and he stood tall. His face presented all of us with a leering mask of self-satisfaction.

“This will be a fine day,” he kept saying to himself. “My finest day.”

The crew grumbled, but they’d all been briefed. Durris had argued perhaps the most strenuously, but I’d managed to overcome his objections.

“Activate the forward screen,” Lorn commanded Yamada, immediately falling into his role.

She gave him a disgusted glance, but followed his orders.

We all wore collars now. They were fake collars, manufactured to imitate those the Stroj put upon their most useful slaves, people too important to be torn to shreds for spare parts.

Lorn himself wore my uniform while I sat at his side in a much smaller, squatty-looking chair. Lorn basked in his glory as he gave us a series of codes that would allow us to contact the Stroj military network.

We’d been trying in vain for days to hail the Stroj without any success. The desperate nature of the situation had driven me to attempt Lorn’s suggested deception. I hoped it would be successful because I was already regretting my role in this farce.

At last, several long minutes later, the Stroj replied. A creature lit up our holographic screens. It was a hideous figure of unsurpassed deformity.

I’d met a number of Stroj. Those who presented themselves as human could slip in among my kind unnoticed. Others were mechanical in nature or hybrids like Lorn.

But this being was something different. It took no pains to look humanoid. Instead of a head, it was topped by a splash of crimson-colored flesh that sprouted high, like a gigantic version of a rooster’s lop-sided, jiggling topknot. Buried in this wobbling mass were three eyestalks.

Everyone on the command deck, except for Lorn of course, released a gasp of disgust.

Hands emerged from the creature on the screen. They moved to tap at controls rapidly.

“Identify,” it said.

“Lorn. Captain of
Blaze
.”

“This does not match our records. Your ship has been reported lost.”

“That’s right,” Lorn said, “I did lose my command. But I captured another and three more to support the first. This ship is my flagship, and I named her
Blaze
like my first command.”

All three eyes swiveled, looking around our command deck. We all sat in subservient positions, stayed quiet and wore collars.

Somehow, seeing this creature’s eyes move in perfect unison and hearing its odd voice, I knew that the brain buried inside that odd wad of meat was artificial.

“I require confirmation,” the creature said at last.

“Alas, I have none,” Lorn said. “The rest of my crewmen have all died.”

“In that case, you are denied entry into home space. If you disregard this prohibition, the penalty will be destruction.”

Lorn sighed. “I thought it might be so,” he said, “but I did hope to help protect the home world. Very well. I’ll wait until all the planets in this system have been annihilated before I take any further action.”

The trio of eyes roved the command deck again.

“Hold,” it said, and the screen went dark.

“Well, if that creature isn’t the most foul—” Rumbold began.

“Silence!” Lorn boomed. Before any of us could act, he stood up, took two strides to Rumbold and bashed him one across the face. “Do not speak again, dog!” he roared.

I saw Rumbold’s face redden. Blood ran from his mouth. He reached a hand to his belt, baring his teeth.

My hand pushed down his, and I shook my head.

Fuming, the helmsman slumped over his workstation in a quiet rage.

“That’s better,” Lorn said, standing above us. “The controller studies us, and I hope it will see how I run my ship full of defeated Basics.”

Rumbold looked alarmed.

We all looked back at the screen. It was dark, but a glimmer of gray still lit the edge of the projection zone. The channel was still open.

Looking up, we saw our cameras were blue-lit, meaning they were still transmitting.

We all sat like statues for three more long minutes—all of us, except for Lorn. He strode among us like an inspecting god. He shoved people aside, berated them for incompetence, smacked the backs of heads freely and chuckled when his victims winced.

I knew he was enjoying himself immensely. I would have put a stop to it if I could be sure the display was unnecessary—but I couldn’t be sure. If the controller, as Lorn called the creature he’d been talking to, really was observing us, then this act had to be convincingly played.

Lorn was certainly doing his damnedest to make it look real. He was in the middle of slapping Durris around when the screen brightened again.

“You have new orders,” the monster said after running its eyes over us all one more time. “You will proceed to these coordinates. You will fight to the death at that position. If you fail to comply in any way, you will be destroyed by missile bases.”

“That’s not—” Lorn began, but he trailed off.

The screen had gone dark. This time the cameras were turned off, the channel closed.

“Feed cut,” Yamada said, standing up. “Captain, I insist you throw that creature off the deck!”

“That’s right!” Rumbold said, heaving himself out of his chair. “Put him back in irons!”

“Ingrates, the lot of you!” Lorn spat back.

I quickly summoned my marines, and they escorted Lorn below where he sputtered and raged.

“An interesting display,” Durris said, coming up to me and rubbing at the back of his head. “Do you think any of that was really necessary?”

“It’s hard to know,” I conceded. “Lorn might have been enjoying himself, or he might have been behaving in a customary fashion.”

“Well, either way, we now have permission from the Stroj to assist in their defense. I can hardly believe we’ve worked so hard to save such an unpleasant people.”

He had a point, but history was full of times like these. In war, your allies weren’t always noble—or even likeable.

-52-

The variants had been content to allow us to watch them from a distance. They still ignored us as we moved sunward. They ignored all our transmissions as well, including threats, pleas and commands to cease their campaign.

I’d expected nothing else from them, but I’d thought it was worth a try. I used Halsey’s name, proclaimed myself the commander of Star Guard in this system and a dozen other ruses. None of these had elicited so much as a blip of response from the enemy.

But when we moved close to them, at a range of about ten million kilometers, they suddenly took notice.

“Captain,” Yamada called out from her deep-range sensor boards, “the variant fleet is changing course.”

“Commander Durris, plot their new destination,” I said.

“On it,” Durris said, scrambling to work with Yamada’s data.

He quickly came up with a projected cone of probability. It was hard to know exactly what they intended as they were on an angular burn that might end at any point, changing the final result.

“Looks like…” he said, frowning at the maps. “It looks like they’re going to come into far orbit around the Stroj home world.”

“I see,” I said, “let’s put our course on the map as well.”

Four green lines appeared, and they swiftly merged into one. The resulting course line represented our position and projected path. It became clear, as the data grew more precise, that the rogue variants were planning to intercept us.

“They’ll meet us outside the range of the Stroj missile bases,” Durris declared. “They’ve anticipated our move to join in the Stroj defense, and they’re trying to block us.”

I nodded, unsurprised. “Counter actions? What contingencies have you worked out?”

“Um…” he said, “I haven’t had time yet to—”

“Make time. I want answers. You and your staff have thirty minutes to provide them.”

Getting up and stretching, I decided to retire from the command deck. It would be several hours before our fleets were within range. Now would be a good time to take a break before things became heated.

Stepping toward my quarters, I felt a familiar tickle in my mind. My implant was ringing.

The identity of the caller scrolled over my retina. My eyes widened in alarm. It was Okto again.

How did she know I was off duty? I’d begun to suspect she was remotely spying on me, somehow. Her timing had been not only relentless but uncanny of late.

There was no doubt in my mind she was becoming obsessed with me. I could understand it, from the point of view of Beta psychology. Starship captains from her world had few prospects for mates. A man like me, who was of equal status, must have seemed like a rare opportunity to her.

Halting, I felt uncertain as to what to do. If I answered her outside the door of my quarters, she would notice and insist on accompanying me inside. If I refused to answer, it would seem rude, as we were allied captains about to participate in our first battle.

Yamada walked by me then as I stood indecisively in the passageway. She’d chosen to take the opportunity for a break from the command deck at the same moment I had, following my lead.

She gave me a friendly nod, and I reached out a hand to touch her shoulder. She paused, looking surprised.

“Would you accompany me inside for a moment?” I asked her.

“What?” she responded in alarm.

Some time ago, Yamada and I had had a misunderstanding with regard to our social status. She’d assumed I'd been pursuing her, when I hadn’t been.

I’d always found her attractive, but I also knew that a relationship with a fellow command officer would adversely affect morale aboard the ship. Although such situations weren’t against formal Star Guard regulations, they were frowned upon.

“I have a call coming in from Okto,” I said, “stick around, follow me, and I’ll join you into the conversation.”

Yamada looked confused but nodded anyway. I touched the door to my quarters and simultaneously opened the channel with Okto.

The persistent woman took form directly in front of me. I selected options that would let her be fully aware of my surroundings. I then linked my implant with Yamada’s to share the conversation with her too.

Okto’s expression was predatory. She was wearing less than half her uniform and appeared to have just stepped out of some kind of sauna. I knew that Betas frequently enjoyed hot steam baths.

“Welcome back aboard my ship,” I said, “have you met Lieutenant Commander Yamada? She’s my most trusted assistant.”

Okto tore her eyes from me to stare coldly at the smaller woman.

I could tell from Yamada’s demeanor that she failed to grasp the situation. Then her confused expression shifted into one of mild amusement as she began to understand Okto's reason for contacting me.

“I’ll get right on that, Captain,” Yamada said as she slipped past me into my quarters.

She made certain to brush physically against my person as she passed by. The contact was stimulating and unexpected. I realized I had a natural smile on my face as I followed Yamada into my quarters.

Okto studied us, still without having spoken a word. Her expression had cooled.

“I can see you’re busy,” she said.

“Not actually,” I replied. “I was just having a private word with Lieutenant Commander Yamada before battle commences.”

“This privacy…” Okto began slowly. “Is it part of her required duties?”

The question was odd and somewhat shocking to me. “No, not at all.”

“I serve my Captain happily,” Yamada said, poking her head back out of my cabin and giving Okto a smile.

“I see,” said the towering woman, looking flushed and increasingly annoyed.

I dared to hope that she would drop the call with some excuse, but she didn’t. I don't think it occurred to her as an option.

“Captain Sparhawk,” she said, “I demand to speak to you alone.”

“Why?” I asked. “Is there something important that one of my closest officers shouldn’t hear? I trust her with my life.”

Okto studied each of us in turn. She seemed reluctant to close the channel, but at the same time, she didn’t know what else to say. I was beginning to feel embarrassed for her.

Yamada clearly didn’t share my compassion for the colonist. As I tried to close the communication, she walked up to me and casually snaked an arm around my waist.

I was mildly surprised, but I knew this move was for the best. It was important to let Okto know she wasn’t going to succeed in her attempt to seduce me.

“Duty calls,” Okto said suddenly. “We will continue this discussion later.”

“Very well,” I said in a tone I hoped sounded guileless and friendly. “I’m looking forward to our next meeting. May we both fare well in battle.”

Okto lifted her lip at Yamada and vanished, disconnecting from my implant.

“Wow. I thought she’d never leave. She’s a bit scary,” Yamada observed.

“Yes. She’s a force to be reckoned with.”

Yamada heaved a sigh then flashed a grin up at me. “That was fun. I think I was very convincing!”

I laughed. “You were indeed! Okto’s been plaguing me. You chased her off without breaking our delicate alliance and in a manner that I could never have managed unassisted.”

It was about then that I noticed her arm was still lingering, touching my waist gently.

We looked at one another, and the moment took over.

Having played the part of lovers, and having both entertained such thoughts in the past, it was easy to fall prey to our emotions. Yamada was small, intense and very real. Okto had been like a haunting ghost, a cold domineering figure that pursued me like prey.

She was exotic and sexually intriguing, of course, but the Beta woman had never quite drawn my imagination. I’d been running from her obvious hinting and posturing from the start.

I looked at Yamada again. I’d been in space for many weeks, and she’d always been present, a quiet partner in close proximity.

I’d always known she’d had a crush on me. I’d never taken advantage of the situation. But now, with both of us touching and laughing, I was overcome by the urge to embrace her.

We hugged. We kissed, we touched gently. For a brief period, my mind focused only on my physical need to be with her. All other thoughts melted away.

There was an urgency to our actions as we moved to my couch and began to run our hands over one another. She was smiling, and her eyes shined. Mine must have looked similarly affected.

But at that critical moment, I thought of Chloe. On my recent return to Earth, we’d made certain promises. Out in space, all that seemed distant, but I felt doubt come over me.

Spacers often spent months away from their families and friends. Flings were common aboard every ship. In years past, I wouldn’t have worried about it—but this time I felt differently.

“I don’t know,” I said.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, pulling back and searching my face.

She seemed to know in an instant what I was feeling. She kissed me one more time—on the forehead.

“It’s okay,” she said. “It’s a good thing, really. I’m happy for you.”

We rearranged our kits hastily as we were due back on the command deck. She left me then, and my eyes searched the walls of my cabin thoughtfully for a moment before I headed after her.

She was right, naturally. It was all for the best. We couldn’t be seen carrying on in front of the crew. It would have been unacceptable.

But most of all, I was glad I hadn’t cheated on Chloe of House Astra.