Chapter 17
Afternoon found captain and chief engineer hard at work in Lokmi’s section. They had cordoned off a small area near the shielding instrumentation, warning off the engineering crew. It was again a case of the less others knew of certain activities, the better off they would be if suspicion fell on Kila.
Kila saw Lokmi frown at the enhancements they worked to install deep in the shadows of the other mechanisms. They were hiding their newest tool among the fleet-approved shields, out of the sightline of those involved in regular duty.
He shared the Imdiko’s worries about their clandestine acquisition, but the time for avoiding unlawful enterprise had come to an end. The alterations being made to their vessel, if discovered by the fleet, would land them in military prison for years. As damning was the portable version Kila had gotten the specs for and would assemble once this work was done. The technology was not of Kalquorian origin, and as recent tests on adaptations had only recently confirmed positive results with their vessels, it had not yet been implemented by the Empire.
It was also top secret technology. Kila had discovered its existence by nosing into the Research and Development Department records. He’d done so to find any new developments that might benefit his ship and crew in the dangerous months ahead. As a double agent, he felt justified in attacking his own side’s restricted access. Especially with so much on the line. However, it would still be his ass if the fleet discovered his activities. Hobato would disavow all knowledge of Kila’s spy status, exactly as he would Piras’s. Maf could not know the Empire was making attempts to infiltrate his organization.
Lokmi connected a component and consulted his handheld to get a reading. He spoke in low tones, letting the drone of the nearby engines mask his words from all but Kila. “I hope we get a chance to test this out before we have to hang our lives on it.”
“With luck, we will.”
Lokmi shot him a glance. “Do you believe in luck?”
“Fuck no. I’m just trying to make you feel better, sunshine.”
Kila smirked with humor he didn’t feel.
“Don’t sugarcoat shit for me. I like facts and knowing what’s going on.”
Kila snorted. Lokmi was on duty, which meant he was in full Dramok mode. Anything to do with the ship’s performance seemed to trigger that side of his personality.
At least he knew his job well. For the first time since he’d become a captain, Kila didn’t feel he had to struggle against his chief engineer. Lokmi felt like his teammate, not antagonist. Even though they were likely to lock horns again sooner rather than later, Kila respected Lokmi and was sure Lokmi respected him too.
Thinking about the Imdiko engineer with Dramok tendencies made Kila contemplate another Dramok. Last night and that morning, Piras had seemed to make peace with a great many things. His attitude towards Laro Station being their target was regretful, but he appreciated the necessity of its sacrifice. He viewed it with a healthy mindset, Kila thought.
Piras had admitted his continuing concerns about the effect of his mission on his mother. With her severe anxiety, she would be overwhelmed to think her son had turned traitor. Yet there was no help for that if he was to continue his assignment. In the end, he’d decided the good of the Empire surpassed his mother’s nervousness. All he could hope for was to return alive and cleared of charges at war’s end so he could explain himself to her.
Likewise, he had seemed to come to terms with his past love affair. Kila had hopes Piras was in the process of laying his relationship with Lidon to rest. If he was, would he look to find a new start with Kila?
He kept his gaze on the command board he was installing as he mumbled to Lokmi, “I owe you thanks for helping me with Piras.”
“Don’t choke on it, Captain.”
Lokmi grinned at Kila’s growl before turning thoughtful. “I can see how he came to mean so much to you. For all that temper he’s so well known for, he’s got a good head on his shoulders. I like that he’s principled and doesn’t take his responsibilities lightly.”
“Does anything in particular makes you say that?”
“I can tell the idea of turning on Laro Station is weighing on his conscience.”
“And yours,”
Kila observed. Lokmi had been visibly shaken to learn Laro was to come under attack.
He kept his tone noncommittal. “Spying is a bloody business. I thank the ancestors that all I have to worry about is keeping the ship going. Deciding on whether people live or die would be far more than I could handle.”
As even as he made his voice, the Imdiko’s eyes betrayed how troubled he felt. His hands shook minutely as he worked.
“Your Imdiko is showing, Chief.”
Kila’s voice was soft with understanding. He remained pragmatic about sacrificing the lives of soldiers for the greater good, but it tore at him too. He and Lokmi may have signed on to be spies, but never with the idea they’d have to turn on so many of their own. They would be actively involved in fighting against the Empire.
As a natural caregiver, Lokmi would feel the pain more acutely than a Nobek. His guilt might even rival Piras’s. Harming others went against an Imdiko’s natural instincts.
Lokmi’s gaze met Kila’s. In typical nurturer fashion, his thoughts were not for his own concerns. “Is Piras going to be okay? Are we all going to be okay?”
His roundabout way of asking if Kila would also be able to cope with what was to come warmed the Nobek’s heart. It was too bad Lokmi was so determined to avoid relationships with Nobeks for fear his controlling instincts would be stomped on. In his way, he was as compelling as Piras.
Maybe once I’ve brought down Piras’s barriers, I can get to work on this man’s.
Without thinking twice, Kila reached over and stroked Lokmi’s cheek. The Imdiko’s eyes widened and his breath caught…but he didn’t move away.
Not wanting to push his luck, Kila indulged in the intimate contact for a bare moment. He told Lokmi, “Everyone will do what we have to. And then we will learn to live with it, because we must. For honor and Empire.”
Lokmi nodded. His expression said he knew the trepidation Kila felt at the coming storm. The Nobek didn’t try to hide those feelings. He had the idea that it might be all right for Lokmi to have a glimpse into his soul and know the pain the mission caused him too.
After all, Imdikos didn’t have the market cornered on hurt.
* * * *
Days swept by. Piras was kept busy at headquarters with the war. He tended to the daily issues that cropped up in the sector he was in charge of, examining reports, approving or countermanding plans put forth by the captains who reported to him, and issuing strategies of his own.
Kila stayed on board his ship, ostensibly readying for his upcoming tour. The destroyer’s orders would take it to the battle front near the border with Galactic Council space. Kila commed a couple of times to check in with Piras, but they kept their exchanges brief and impersonal. Because of that, Piras heard little of Lokmi, though Kila did once say his chief engineer was making good time with upgrades. The warmth with which he spoke told the Dramok things were going well between the two men.
He wished he was on board with them, enjoying their company. He reminded himself that if things went well, he soon would be. He tried not to think too much about what had to happen in order for that to occur. Kila had not given him any hint of what Sitrel’s reaction had been when he’d handed over the latest information.
Things were busy, but Piras had the feeling he was marking time. Waiting.
He was buried in reports one day when his com went off with the beeping pattern that signaled an urgent official call. Piras picked it up to hear a recorded message summoning him to the Fleet Admiral’s conference chamber right away.
He paused long enough to shut down his computer. Then he rushed out the door, joining a stream of other members of High Command heading for Hobato’s chambers. Something big was afoot, and his heart sped up in anticipation.
Rear Admiral Critan, one of the older gossips Piras tended to avoid, fell into step with him. “Hobato’s not wasting time. The reports started rolling in a few minutes ago.”
Piras grunted noncommittally. He had sent his aide Gim off on the usual spate of errands, so it was no surprise he’d not yet been informed that trouble had started. He could well guess at the nature of the emergency, however.
Critan’s grizzled face was hectic with rage as he whispered to Piras about what was happening. Right away, Piras realized that he’d been right in supposing Maf’s diversion had begun. The blowup of sudden attacks wasn’t exactly according to the plan Kila had passed on to Sitrel, but one target and the overall strategy was Piras’s.
He tried to ignore the gnawing disquiet in his guts as he entered Hobato’s conference room and took a seat in a hoverchair at the great U-shaped table. Holographic vid monitors were clicking on over the table and along the walls. Critan ceased speaking as he joined in on the silent as the gathering admirals looked over the reports, stats, and vid feeds from the newest battleground of Kalquor’s civil war.
They didn’t have much time to take the situation in. Admiral Hobato’s arrival heralded an immediate beginning to the meeting. The room’s sound-blocker hummed to life.
The Fleet Admiral’s lined face was grim as he faced them from the bend of the table. “As you can see from the feeds, the defensive grids around Haven and Rokan Colonies have come under attack by the Basma’s fleet. It is a substantial force, one that is testing the strength of our defenses there.”
Piras’s gaze strayed to the vid footage of Kalquorian destroyers fighting destroyers. He scowled to see Critan’s blather had been right: the Basma’s forces were attacking the defenses of the Rokan Mining Colony, which Piras had suggested…and civilian Haven Colony.
Damn that fanatical asshole of a bigot Maf. He seethed with impotent rage.
Piras had pinpointed Rokan for obvious reasons. First of all, should Maf’s forces win it, it would be a small boon to the Basma’s depleted pocketbook. Secondly, it had a tiny Kalquorian population due to most of the mining work being mechanized. The casualties, if any, would be few to that colony. Most importantly, it lay in the opposite direction of the route an attack fleet would take to Laro Station.
Haven Colony, however, was worthless as a strategic target to the Basma. Its one recommendation was its proximity to Rokan, making it a kind of two-for-one deal. It made no real sense to expend the effort needed to take it, not a tiny farming planet. Only fanaticism against Haven’s blend of Earther and Kalquorian populations could have driven Maf’s attack against its protectors.
It was fearsome to think that Maf despised the mingling of the races enough to order such an attack even as a diversion. At the same time, Piras counted it as a weakness, potential for Maf’s undoing.
Hobato’s tone was heavy. “The two colonies are in danger of falling to the Basma, though we believe they can hold out for a few days with the defenses we have in place. We have scrambled all available fighting vessels to push back the aggressors. Rel Station will lead the charge since it’s closest.”
Piras’s ears perked up at the words all available fighting vessels. “What of those guarding Kalquor? And the borders of the Empire space we still hold?”
“We are maintaining an adequate presence in those areas. Between this attack and concentrating so many of his resources on holding what he’s already gained, I feel the Basma cannot threaten the home world. As for our borders, the area closest to the Galactic Council remains of paramount concern. The usual contingent supports the lanes to and from Joshada.”
“Did no one notice this bunch disengaging from their fleet to launch the attack? How was this managed?”
Piras seethed.
“They are cloaking their vessels and scrambling our sensors, apparently. The enemy ships that remain near the Galactic Council shipping lanes could be sending out ghosts…signal echoes that make it appear to our instruments that they still have as many ships as ever in the area.”
Tranis, sitting near the curved portion of the table, leaned forward. “What of our ships along the border with Bi’is?”
Piras was glad someone else had asked the question he needed answered most. If he’d had to bring it up after already voicing irritation, it might have appeared he was challenging Hobato. He did not want to appear to be an agitator. Not this early in the game.
“As always, the Bi’isil border is supported against attacks from their kingdom. It would be nice if we were on good terms with our neighbor—”
he managed a half-smile for the disbelieving snorts and snickers “—yes, of course that is too much to ask. As they have not shown any inclination to take advantage of our divided empire, we stay the course where that border is concerned.”
Piras had not believed the fleet would relax their defenses of that region. It was no matter; he’d planned for that contingency all along. Indeed, it had been his hope that nothing would change on the Bi’is border; it reassured him that High Command didn’t believe Maf would attack the region.
It was also a relief to hear the border would continue to be held strong, except where Maf would gain control once Laro Station was overcome. Piras believed Bi’is was content to bide their time anyway, particularly in light of their trade agreement with Maf.
He had little doubt that Bi’is would take advantage later, if they got the chance. One way or the other, they would strike at the Kalquorian Empire, probably following the civil unrest. They might even wait until the very end, once the warring Kalquorians had weakened themselves. As a strategist, Piras knew it was what he would do.
The idea made him sick. Yet Piras knew he must for now forget the alien enemy. He could fight only one war at a time.
* * * *
A message was waiting for Piras when the meeting broke up. It was from Kila and said, Your presence is requested on my ship. The upgrades you asked about are in place and await your inspection.
After seeing the deadly threat against Haven and knowing it heralded Maf’s fleet moving towards Laro Station, Piras was glad to have an excuse to see the Nobek. Somehow, Kila always managed to bolster his resolve to stay the course. It was damned hard to do so with events now moving beyond Piras’s control…events he had set into motion.
The shuttle ride was quick and quiet. He had the cabin to himself, sparing any need to make unwanted conversation with other passengers. He couldn’t have spoken about what was uppermost on his mind anyway: the attacks on Rokan and Haven’s defenses. No one could until the Imperial Clan and Royal Council approved the release of such information to the public.
Piras reached the destroyer without incident. He stepped off and found Kila waiting. The captain greeted him with a formal bow. “Welcome aboard again, Admiral.”
Piras echoed the official tone. “A pleasure as always, Captain. Let’s see those upgrades you’re so proud of.”
His tone was clipped, but it was his usual for dealing with underlings. When Kila visibly suppressed his usual smirk, Piras snorted.
They left the bay and headed down the corridor. Piras felt a sense of homecoming as he walked the halls of the destroyer. Once more, it felt as if accepting a promotion and planet-side post had been a mistake. Yet at the time he’d been offered the rank of admiral, it had been difficult to imagine commanding a ship without Lidon. Too many memories and regrets had made it impossible for Piras to remain a captain.
If this works out, I can make new memories in space. He felt the warmth coming off the Nobek at his side and acknowledged the mote of hope that had sprung new life in his soul.
Kila spoke in an undertone as he directed their course. “I’m glad you’re made it to the ship. Dramok Sitrel wants to hear your latest news himself.”
Piras darted a startled glance. “So soon? I’d have thought they’d want control over Laro Station before bringing me into the fold. To confirm I did all I said I would.”
Kila waited for a couple of crewmembers to pass them on the opposite side before answering. “I think the Basma is desperate to have a man inside. He’s not happy with just a new acquisition. He wants to know everything that is happening with his fleet divided, and he wants it now.”
“Information we don’t intend for him to have, at least not for long. Not since I’m not meant to remain within Fleet Command. This is moving quicker than we intended, however. How much more delay do you need to be ready?”
“None.”
That earned another surprised look. Kila nodded, his expression one of grim appreciation. “Lokmi is a hell of an engineer. Better than me, though if you tell him I said that, I’ll have to kill you.”
Piras was too amazed to be amused or irritated. “The alterations are complete? The ship is ready?”
“We managed to get it all done. As far as we know, we are as ready as we’re ever going to be. Chief is pretty pissed we can’t test it first.”
“Oh, it will get its shakedown, all right. Almost assuredly it will be trial by fire.”
Piras’s heart pounded. Once Laro and the unmanned stations were in Maf’s hands, it would be down to being discovered by the fleet. And escaping.
Kila’s usual mocking grin made its reappearance. “Don’t you just love this job?”
Piras shook his head, though he couldn’t deny the rush of adrenaline that felt good despite the circumstances. “I think you love it more than I do. Where are we going?”
“Engineering. I have a private area there for communicating with our friends.”
The last word came out in a snarl. With the endgame closing in, Kila’s Nobek instincts were on the rise.
As they made their way into the heartbeat of the ship, Piras brought Kila up to speed on the reactions of Hobato and the rest to the attacks on Rokan and Haven. He caught the flash of anger that spread over Kila’s face to hear of the farming colony being targeted by Maf. He brought it under control quickly and merely grunted in response.
They entered the main engineering section. Piras couldn’t help but look for Lokmi, wanting a glimpse of the fascinating Imdiko-Dramok. He saw the chief off to one side, consulting with a couple members of his staff. Piras allowed himself a moment of pure enjoyment looking at the handsome lover he’d enjoyed surrendering to. Yes, it would be splendid to go to space again with him and Kila along for the ride. The mission took on a delightful aura the more Piras considered his traveling companions.
Kila’s rough voice rang out over the mutter of conversation and hum of the engines. “Admiral on deck.”
The men in the room snapped to attention. As one, they bowed to Piras, but his attention remained on Lokmi. He saw a flash of a smile from the chief engineer before he arranged his features to appropriate respect.
Piras gave them a nod and a dismissive wave, pretending the pleasure on Lokmi’s face hadn’t made the warm glow in his gut burn brighter. “As you were.”
The men got back to work. Lokmi also returned to his conversation with the two other engineers, not sparing another smile or any kind of meaningful look in Piras’s direction. The admiral appreciated there were no more overt acknowledgements from Lokmi, though he allowed himself a second to ogle the way the man’s uniform molded to his body. Satisfied with his own moment of unprofessional interest, he followed Kila to a tiny office at the back of the section.
Kila went to the computer podium in the middle of the room. Piras stood at his side, nodding approval at the semi-private setup. Like Piras, Kila had a secret office, even on board a clandestine spy ship that most of Fleet Command didn’t know about. It was as bare and unassuming as Piras’s version. His respect for the Nobek captain went up another notch.
Kila ordered the room’s door closed and locked. He powered up a sound-blocker and crooked a brow at Piras. “Ready to face our allies? So to speak. It will be audio only,”
he said in a dry tone.
Piras tamped down on a surly smile. Allies, indeed. “Throw me to the wolves, Captain.”
Kila tapped on his keyboard rather than making voice commands. “I use this for comming Sitrel rather than a regular unit. It has safeguards in place that make it harder to decipher should anyone intercept.”
“Good.”
A moment later, a nasally voice spoke from the computer speakers. “How is the weather today?”
Kila rolled his eyes at Piras. “In space? Cold as fuck, Dramok Sitrel. If you’re ever on my ship, I’ll invite you to take a stroll outside the airlock to experience it firsthand.”
A holo vid swam into view before the computer podium, eliciting a startled curse from Kila. A man stood there, a Kalquorian nearly as lithe in appearance as Piras. His body was more angular, however, destroying any semblance of the gracefulness Piras had been told he possessed. While not unattractive, Sitrel had the misfortune of a rather prominent nose, giving him a starved aspect since the rest of his face was narrow. His blue shirt and black trousers, while well-made and obviously expensive, looked shiny with wear at the knees, hips, and across his shoulders.
Kila recovered and with a warning look at Piras said, “Since when do we do vid viewing?”
“Since I want to study our new friend’s physical reactions. Do you have him present with his report? If so, relay a vid feed.”
Kila glowered. “This is a bad idea, Sitrel. A very bad idea.”
“Show him or we’re done. Your services will no longer be required, and they will become known to Fleet Command.”
Kila’s fangs unhinged. Piras nudged him. When the Nobek looked in response, Piras nodded his head. “Put me on, Captain.”
Kila’s expression remained furious, but he nodded back. He punched the buttons of his computer with more force than necessary, bringing up a return vid for Sitrel to see. He snarled, “Transmission confirmed.”
Piras stared at the Dramok’s image in front of him. “Dramok Sitrel.”
Sitrel sketched a brief bow, his face stretching in a smiling leer. “Admiral Piras. This is a pleasure.”
Piras’s hand itched. If Sitrel had been there in person, he’d have had a hard time not slapping the smug look off his face. Instead, he returned the sneer. “Mine as well.”
“And how is the illustrious Fleet Command taking our jabs at their colonies?”
Piras reported on the meeting, leaving nothing out. He told Sitrel of the plans to send in reinforcements from Rel Station, the number of ships responding to the attack, and as much of the strategy as he’d been made privy to.
Sitrel seemed pleased at the end of the recitation. “Hobato thinks the border with Bi’is is safe and sound. He’s complacent as to its security, as you thought he would be.”
“I have begun to feel reservations about Laro Station, however.”
Piras sensed Kila twitch next to him. He didn’t react. Instead, he kept a steady, cool gaze on Sitrel.
“What reservations?”
Sitrel’s smarmy expression faltered.
“I don’t know what kind of agreement the Basma has with those little gray shitheads. Whether it’s just for test subjects or if he intends the Bi’isils to help him win the Empire. What I do know is that they’ll turn on him the moment they think they can invade our home and take control.”
Sitrel relaxed and waved Piras’s concerns away. “The Basma is well aware of how untrustworthy Bi’is is. The instant the Empire is free of the Earther contagion, Bi’is will be repulsed. You have nothing to worry about.”
Piras let his temper show, his expression going as feral as Kila’s. “Do not patronize me, Dramok. When it comes to the Empire, I worry about everything. I warn you, not one Bi’isil pokes his big-eyed head in my space because the Basma’s fleet fucked up. If that happens, I will tear every last man involved a new asshole, starting with you. Then I’ll string up your bleeding carcass for everyone to see and learn from. After that gentle beginning, I’ll really make you pay.”
It was vintage Dramok Piras, the terror of the fleet, who ranted. While he didn’t indulge in screaming at the other man, he made sure the threat he promised rang true. That was no stretch. He already planned to tear Sitrel apart at his mission’s earliest convenience.
Sitrel got the message loud and clear to judge from his widened eyes and paled flesh. No sign of derisive scorn remained in his demeanor. It took a moment for him to recover enough to reassure Piras.
Almost fawning, he said, “We will not fail your faith in our glorious revolution, Admiral, especially with your invaluable contributions on our behalf. Our primary mission is not only to restore Kalquor’s honor, but to keep it safe once we have control.”
“See that you do. I will take any fuck-ups personally.”
“As you should. I cannot express how important you are to us, and how grateful we are to have you on our side. I assure you that the Basma will be relying on you a great deal. We feel we could not ask for a better man to do the job.”
Piras stood shaking and glaring for a moment more, feeling the cleansing sense of rage wash through him before snapping his head in acknowledgment. “If you are sincere, then you may be sure I will guard Kalquor against all of our enemies. For honor and Empire.”
“For honor and Empire, Admiral. Welcome aboard.”
“Piras out.”
Kila broke the connection, and Sitrel disappeared. Piras drew a deep breath before looking to the captain.
The Nobek grinned at him with naked admiration. “Not only did you convince him, but you took away all his authority as Maf’s right hand. You owned that asshole.”
Piras huffed. “That piece of garbage doesn’t deserve the power he’s been given. The sooner he figures out who the superior Dramok is, the better for us all.”
Kila’s esteem didn’t fade. “What an amazing performance. I almost believed you were turning on the fleet myself. Bringing up the Bi’is threat to the Empire was a nice touch.”
“Sincerity is best achieved with a dose of the truth. I need a drink. And a shower. I feel filthy after dealing with that gurluck.”
“How about dinner? I think the chief will join us if we ask nicely.”
Piras didn’t miss the scent of interest coming from his companion. His show of authority had excited Kila. Would a show of surrender have the same effect?
Licking his lips in anticipation, Piras asked, “Are you capable of doing anything nicely?”
Kila laughed, his eyes going dark and the smell of arousal getting stronger. “That depends on how well my boy behaves for me.”
He grabbed Piras and made him succumb to a harsh kiss before letting him go and shoving him towards the door. “Let’s go find Lokmi.”