43. Lorken
Lorken
Ifollowed my brother's swift stride through the twisting corridors of the warbird, Dawz keeping pace at my other side, both of us descending through the warbird without question. I still wasn’t sure where Zarn was taking us, but I’d learned to trust his wild ideas.
"Does this mean he's battle chief again?" Dawz asked in a low voice, pitched only for my ears.
I growled, low and noncommittal. I was not yet ready to forgive Zarn for what he'd done to Athena in that room, for the marks still fading from her wrists, for the fear I'd seen in her eyes when I'd found her pinned against that wall.
But I was also leader enough to know that my horde needed its sharpest mind at a moment like this, and whatever bitterness still sat between my brother and me would have to wait until the enemy was no longer bearing down on us.
We pounded down a wide staircase, the metal clattering beneath our boots, and emerged on the hangar bay, the vast space stretching out around us in rows of sleek fighters and raiding vessels, their hulls gleaming faintly.
Pilots were moving between ships in preparation for launching a counterattack and mechanics stood under open engine panels inspecting the ships before they might be deployed.
Tools clanged against metal and orders echoed up through the ship’s central chasm.
"We checked the comms hub here already," Dawz said, gesturing toward the far wall where the central console sat dark and undisturbed.
"You checked the hub," Zarn said, already striding between into the rows of ships. "Not each individual vessel."
Tvek. I hated that he was right. Any fighter or raiding ship carried the ability to transmit, and, although they were used for ship-to-ship communication, any of them could be used to send a signal when parked inside the warbird.
It was a simple way to bypass using any exposed communications hub. It was actually a clever strategy.
But how would any of the refugees from Kashara know enough about Vandar ships to operate such a system?
Weren’t they all theatre types, better with stages than spaceships?
Unless one of them wasn’t who they claimed to be.
Then a memory snagged in the back of my brain.
Wasn’t one of them the one who’d helped Kolt and Skye access a ship in the Zagrath shipyard?
Didn’t he work with ships for a living? I almost growled at myself for not thinking of that sooner.
Dawz's device pinged at his hip, and he checked it quickly, his expression tightening. “From the command deck. There’s been another transmission. Just now. A single signal."
"Split up," Zarn ordered, already moving. "Search every ship in this bay."
“Wait.” I crossed to a weapons rack mounted near the entrance and pulled two battle axes free, tossing one to my majak and one to my brother. "Good hunting."
We separated, each of us slipping between the rows of huddled vessels, my senses sharp and my fingers tingling in anticipation of catching the traitor.
I checked the first raiding ship I passed, but it was empty.
I huffed out an impatient breath, needing to find the individual responsible for leading the enemy to our doorstep and for casting suspicion on Athena.
Without their traitorous acts, Zarn never would have suspected her or taken her to his oblek, and I never would have felt compelled to fight my own brother.
I gripped my axe blade, vowing to myself that they would pay for all of it.
A scuffle sounded somewhere to my left, muffled but unmistakable.
I hurried toward the noise, attempting to parse it from the regular sounds of the hangar bay, wondering for a moment if Zarn or Dawz had already found our quarry.
The sound drew me toward a raiding vessel two rows over, and I crept toward it in silence, axe raised, following the growing noise of grunts and cursing.
When I hurried up the ramp, I expected to find my majak or battle chief with the culprit, but instead I found the lanky man called Vern. He had the other man we’d rescued from the Zagrath prison in a headlock, while Dell thrashed and clawed at his captor's forearm.
"Glad you're here, Raas," Vern gasped, tightening his hold as Dell bucked against him. "I caught him activating the ship's comms system."
I angled my head out of the ship's opening and bellowed, "Vaes!"
Zarn and Dawz arrived within moments, both breathing hard from their own searches, and I gestured toward the two men still grappling on the deck.
"Seems one of our guests caught our saboteur for us," I said.
A low, satisfied growl rolled through my brother's chest, and he crossed to Dell in a single long stride, wrenching the man free of Vern's grip and pressing the flat of his blade against his throat. Dell went perfectly still, all the fight draining from him at once.
Zarn had prodded Dell to the bottom of the ship’s ramp and Dawz, Vern and I were behind them when a clatter of running feet and raised voices stopped us short.
The rest of the theatre troupe rushed up with Athena in the lead, followed close behind by Hal wringing his hands and the two lanky men I still had trouble telling apart.
The other two females brought up the rear, with Lettie puffing as she ran, her blue hair bobbling.
Athena braced one hand against the ship's hull as she caught her breath, her gaze falling on Dell with an axe blade at his neck. “You got him. We were just coming to tell you we figured it out.”
"Ringo remembered something," Hal added, gesturing at one of the lanky men.
The man nodded, glaring at the captive. “Dell asked Vern to explain what it was like working in the shipyards and asked him all about how ship communications worked.”
Lettie wagged a finger at her brother. "And you didn't think that was strange?"
Vern's cheeks flushed. "Not until he suggested we check out the Vandar hangar bay for fun and started messing with the actual ships. That's when I figured something wasn't right."
“In fairness to Vern,” I said. “He did stop Dell. He had him in a headlock when I found them.”
Lettie’s chest puffed out. “That a boy, Vern.”
I turned to the man, whose clothes were disheveled. “You helped get Kolt and Skye off the planet and went to Zagrath prison for it, and now you helped stop a traitor.”
Vern nodded, his cheeks mottling pink. “Guess I did.”
"It seems the Vandar owe you quite a debt, then." I let the words settle a moment before adding, "Perhaps we should make you an honorary raider."
His eyes went wide enough that I thought he might sway on his feet. "I've always wanted a kilt of my own."
Zarn, still holding Dell fast with the blade steady at his throat, let out an impatient huff and resumed dragging his prisoner toward the hangar bay exit, muttering something under his breath about interrogations waiting for no one.
I would have to deal with the issue of Zarn later, but for now, I wanted to return to the command deck and check the status of the enemy ship. After I ensured that Athena and her friends were returned safely to their quarters. Before I could do any of that, an alarm blared overhead.