The Senator's Daughter Read online

  Cooressa had taken the chair to Brody’s left and listened to their conversation. JaQuan was seated between her and Lanaliel. The big Mandran was so large his chair could barely hold him. He stood close to eight feet tall, had broad shoulders, huge muscles, and dangerous-looking horns atop his bovine head, which, like the rest of him, was covered in short, coarse, brown hair except for a white stripe between his eyes. He looked a lot like the minotaur from Daedalus’s labyrinth, but Lanaliel was soft-spoken and contemplative – not at all the picture of savage fury conjured by the myth.

  “All right,” Kitekh said, dropping into the chair at the head of the table, “someone tell me what the hell happened.”

  “The data is still incomplete,” Rorgun said. “But my best guess is that the Imperial cruiser fired on us either just as or just before the static bomb exploded. With the deflector screens down, the beam was able to hit the hyperdrive, damaging it.”

  “Something hit us; that’s for sure,” Brody said. “As soon as we engaged the hyperdrive, shit started blowing up all over the engine room.”

  Lanaliel smiled beatifically at Brody’s description of the incident. JaQuan wasn’t quite sure what Kitekh would think. This was Brody’s first voyage with them.

  “Lanaliel?” Kitekh prompted.

  “Mr. Brody gives an accurate, if somewhat amusing, description of the results of entering hyperspace,” he said. “There were numerous explosions that have damaged the drive. From what I can tell, it is reparable, but we haven’t fully assessed the extent of the damage yet.”

  “Whatever it is, the hyperdrive is currently inoperable,” JaQuan added. “I can’t bring it online from my board.”

  “That is not the only problem,” Cooressa said. “When we entered hyperspace, something went wrong, probably due to the hit on the drive. Our hull integrity is down to sixty-three percent – worse than my initial assessment. There are cracks all over the surface.”

  “We had a hull breach in the hold,” Rischa said. “Alan and I got it closed, and I’m fairly certain we didn’t lose any of the cargo. We haven’t had a chance to inventory yet, though.”

  “The computer is still analyzing the extent of the damage,” Cooressa said, “but I believe we will need to patch the cracks before we resume travel. Otherwise, the stress could break the ship apart.”

  “Fantastic,” Kitekh said, her usually melodic voice sounding dark and gruff. “Speaking of resuming travel, just where the hell are we?”

  JaQuan sighed. If Kitekh didn’t like the other reports, she was really going to hate his.

  “The short answer is: I don’t know,” he said.

  “And the tall answer?” Rorgun asked.

  Ordinarily, JaQuan would have smiled or laughed at Rorgun’s malapropism. Unfortunately, the news was too grave.

  “The long answer is that the static bomb temporarily blinded the nav system,” he said. “Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem. We were on the proper heading for Rijan, and we had a jump point open. But when the hyperdrive was damaged, strange shit started happening. We went through the jump point, but I can’t be certain we went in on-course. Because the ship was breaking apart, I disengaged the hyperdrive, dropping us back to normal space.

  “Now, here’s where it gets tricky. The static bomb blinded the nav system, so I don’t know which direction we were going when we entered hyperspace. And since we’ve dropped out in the middle of nowhere, I don’t have a fix yet on where we actually are.

  “I’ve got the computer triangulating our position based on the stars we can see. That’ll take some time, though. For the moment, we could be anywhere that isn’t somewhere.”

  No one spoke. They all sat quietly contemplating JaQuan’s report.

  “So,” Kitekh said, breaking the long silence, “we have a severely damaged hull, a nonfunctioning hyperdrive, and we could be light years from any habitation.”

  Once again, no one spoke. JaQuan didn’t like to think about the implications. He knew he’d eventually be able to pinpoint their location. But if they couldn’t repair the ship, it wouldn’t matter. Without an operational hyperdrive, they’d never reach civilization.

  “I don’t understand,” Shinzaa said. “Why would anyone shoot at us?”

  “They were Imperial warships,” Cooressa said.

  “That’s even more ridiculous,” Shinzaa said. “We’ve committed no crime. We’re a simple merchant ship. We’re transporting perfectly legal mining equipment. Why would the Empire attack us?”

  “They ordered us to cut our engines and allow them to board,” Cooressa said. “They only fired on us when we refused and attempted escape.”

  “That doesn’t change the question,” Rorgun said. “Shinzaa’s right. We’ve done nothing wrong. There is no reason for two Imperial battlecruisers to intercept us as we begin our journey.”

  “No reason we know of,” Lanaliel said. “If we assume for the moment that the warships were entirely justified in their actions, they must have had cause. We just don’t know what it might have been.”

  “Heh,” JaQuan said. “In my experience, a man with a badge don’t need a reason to harass you.”

  “Truth,” Alan said.

  Brody snorted. JaQuan flashed him a quick glare. Leave it to the white guy to suggest policing wasn’t racially motivated.

  “It doesn’t matter at the moment,” Brody said. “Whether the Imperials are a bunch of thugs or we’ve committed some terrible crime, the immediate problem is getting the ship repaired so we can live to figure out what’s going on.”

  “Well put,” Lanaliel said. “Captain, I suggest we focus on repairing the hull and the hyperdrive. Hopefully, JaQuan will be able to determine our position by the time we have all systems back online.”

  Kitekh nodded. The other three Graur looked concerned, but JaQuan couldn’t say what was causing their discomfort. He supposed it was the desperation of the situation, but Rischa in particular looked as though something else was bothering her.

  “All right,” Kitekh said, “Lanaliel, you and Mr. Brody see about bringing that hyperdrive back online. Shinzaa, Rischa, Alan, coordinate with Cooressa to get the hull repaired.”

  “It is likely to require some EVA work,” Cooressa said.

  “Figures,” Alan groused.

  “JaQuan, determine where the hell we are,” Kitekh continued. “If you can manage it, find out what happened exactly.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said.

  “Rorgun, can you fix the deflector screens?”

  “I believe so,” he said. “They were overloaded, but I don’t think any of the emitters were damaged.”

  “Then do it,” Kitekh ordered. “We’re probably ten light years from anywhere, but in case we’re not, I’d rather not be a prime target for pirates.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Rorgun said.

  “All right, everyone, dismissed.”

  The crew pushed back from their chairs and stood. As they all filed out for their individual assignments, Rischa walked over to Kitekh. She whispered something in the captain’s ear. Kitekh nodded twice, and they left the mess together.

  “Glad I asked you to get me aboard,” Brody said, clapping JaQuan on the shoulder as he passed. “Hell of a first voyage.”

  JaQuan scowled at him as he filed out. Brody was pissing him off. Maybe it was the flippant way he was responding to the crisis, like his caustic humor made things better somehow. Maybe it was the perfectly handsome face. He was the very picture of white masculinity, and he exuded the unearned arrogance that went with it.

  But there was something else there, some hint of darkness lurking beneath the surface of his smug sarcasm. JaQuan didn’t like it, and he was deeply regretting having vouched for him back at Daxal. Maybe his ambition to become Cataan’s Claw’s pilot had made him a little too eager to recommend Brody to Kitekh.

  Shaking his head, JaQuan followed the rest of the crew out. He had a job to do. He needed to focus on that if they were going to have any chanc
e to live.

  Kitekh stared at the large, blue object in the cargo hold as a deep feeling of unease crept into her heart. Approximately eight feet long and four feet wide, the giant, metal device stood three feet high and hummed quietly from some internal power source. The lid comprised a quarter of the height and was hinged on the right-hand side. The edges were rounded, and an instrument panel with winking lights on the left side offered reports on the contents Kitekh hadn’t consulted yet.

  Whatever it was, it wasn’t part of the shipment they were supposed to be transporting to Rijan IV.

  Rischa and Shinzaa flanked her, neither of them offering any commentary. They both knew what she was thinking: This was the reason for the Imperial attack.

  “Where did this come from?” she asked.

  “I don’t know, Kitekh,” Rischa said. “When the hull was breached, some of the cargo broke free from its containment. I discovered this after Alan and I sealed off the bulkhead. With some of the other crates out of the way, it was visible.”

  “Meaning it was deliberately hidden,” Kitekh said.

  “That seems likely,” Rischa said.

  “Where’s Alan?”

  “I sent him to get patch kits and EVA suits for us, since Cooressa said we’d have to work outside the ship,” Rischa answered.

  “Does he know you found this?” Kitekh asked.

  “No. That’s why I sent him off. I wanted you to know about this before he did.”

  “You suspect Alan?” Shinzaa said.

  “Who else?” Kitekh asked. “We have two deckhands. They handle loading and unloading the cargo. Rischa reported this. That leaves only Alan.”

  “I know, but Alan has been with us for two years,” Shinzaa protested. “Why would he smuggle something aboard now?”

  “Admittedly, it doesn’t seem like him,” Rischa said. “When he’s not working, he’s practicing swordplay or writing that novel of his.”

  “And when he’s not writing it, he’s always talking about it,” Shinzaa added.

  “I’m not sure when he’d have had time to smuggle something like this aboard,” Rischa said, indicating the box with a wave of her hand.

  Kitekh frowned. Her second mate and deckhand had valid points. She wasn’t sure she would trust Alan Park with her life, but he’d never given her any reason to believe he was anything more than a naïve dreamer.

  But the mysterious object was here. And if neither Rischa nor Alan brought it aboard, who did?

  “What is it?” Rischa asked.

  “I believe it is some sort of cryo-stasis container,” Shinzaa said. “I’m no expert on this sort of thing, but these instruments appear to be monitoring life signs.”

  Sharp claws of horror and dread sliced across Kitekh’s heart. She moved around to the left of the metal box and examined the instruments. The readout was definitely showing vitals. There was other information she didn’t understand, probably to do with the operation of the machine. It didn’t matter. Someone was alive in there and being kept asleep.

  “Well, that explains why those battlecruisers wanted to board us,” she said. “We’ve kidnapped someone.”

  “What!” Rischa said.

  “That is my impression too, Kitekh,” Shinzaa said. “Someone aboard is a criminal.”

  “It’s worse than that,” Kitekh said. “If this were a simple kidnapping, they’d have sent the Space Rangers. Those were Imperial warships. Whoever is inside this thing is a political prisoner. We’ve got a traitor aboard.”

  “Schrisch,” Shinzaa said.

  The three of them fell silent and stared at the strange, humming, blue box. It might as well have been a bomb they couldn’t defuse. Even if they could repair the ship, where could they go? Treason was a capital crime, and they were all tarred with it. Kitekh had fled Imperial warships, making her, at best, an accessory, a co-conspirator. She found herself in a worse position than her father had been.

  “We’d better open it up,” Rischa said. “We need to know who’s in there. Maybe we can persuade them we were duped.”

  Kitekh didn’t think that was too likely. She was reasonably certain she’d been set up.

  But she didn’t like not knowing. If she was going to face execution, she wanted to know why.

  “All right,” she said. “Shinzaa, you’re our med tech—”

  “‘Med tech’ is a gross overstatement,” Shinzaa said. “I can administer first aid and run the medical machines in the infirmary. Removing someone from cryo-stasis is well outside my expertise. If I make a mistake, I could kill whoever’s in there.”

  Kitekh frowned. Shinzaa made excellent points. But leaving the unit unopened was foolish. They needed to know who was inside, what they were up against.

  “All right then, let’s get Rorgun down here,” she said. “He might understand the tech better, and I want to keep this a Graur problem until we know more. Rischa, go get him.”

  “Actually, Rischa, let’s not do that.”

  They all turned to see Engineer’s Mate Brody standing several yards away, wearing a cocky smile and pointing a beamer pistol at them. Rischa snarled and took one menacing step forward.

  “Ah, ah, ah,” Brody said, turning his weapon on her. “I know you Graur are fierce warriors, and I’m sure you could shred me in a straight fight. But I’ve got a beamer and enough distance to vaporize your heart before you could get close enough to lay a claw on me. So how about we all just calm down and talk?”

  Kitekh wanted to rip his throat open, watch him realize he was about to die and be unable to do anything about it. Every muscle in her body twitched. She longed to spring at him.

  But he was right. So long as he had the drop on them, she was stuck.

  “Who the hell have you got in there, Jim?” she growled.

  “Haneeta Mol,” he answered. “Daughter of Senator Idrib Mol.”

  Kitekh’s blood froze. He’d kidnapped Mol’s daughter? He’d put the child of the Elohiman who’d destroyed her father aboard her ship?

  “You abducted the daughter of an Imperial Senator?” Shinzaa said.

  “And brought her aboard our ship?” Rischa added.

  “No, I had help,” Brody said with a laugh. “I’m not working alone by a long shot.”

  “Who are your co-conspirators?” Kitekh said.

  “I work for Manifest Destiny,” Brody answered.

  Kitekh’s eyes went wide. Manifest Destiny? Brody’s story got stranger with each answer.

  “The human terrorist group,” Shinzaa said.

  “We’re not terrorists,” Brody said, his face a mask of smug confidence. “We’re freedom fighters. Human citizenship in the Empire is still an open question. Right now, we can’t vote, we’ve no right to due process, and a lot of people are scared we’re the prophesied Fourth Race destined to bring about the end of everything.

  “The Emperor was supposed to decide the question of human citizenship this year. But then he went and died suddenly along with half the Council of Nine. Senator Mol is anti-human and was calling for the Emperor to rule against us before he died. We need to make sure he has nothing to say about who the new Emperor is or how he should rule.”

  “So you decided to kidnap his daughter?” Shinzaa shouted. “You thought that would make him more sympathetic to your cause?”

  “No,” Brody said, his expression murderous. “We kidnapped her as leverage. Unless he repents his position and works to help us gain full citizenship in the Empire, he gets his little girl back in pieces instead of whole.”

  “You idiot,” Kitekh said. “I know Senator Idrib Mol. He’s a fanatic and a hardline conservative. You will only harden his heart against you. He will pursue his daughter across the galaxy. And if he does not get her back safely, he will not rest until your entire race has been exterminated.”

  “And he’s already onto you,” Shinzaa said. “He sent two Imperial battlecruisers after her. If Kitekh had acquiesced to their orders, allowed them to board us, Haneeta Mol would alrea
dy be safely back in their hands, and you would be awaiting trial for capital crimes.”

  “But Captain Galesh was never going to submit to Imperial seizure, were you, Captain?” Brody drawled. “No, a disgraced Graur, whose family lost its honor in a political coup and who holds a lifetime grudge, was never going to let Imperial agents take her in, right?”

  Kitekh’s face twitched. How did he know this about her? What the hell had he involved her in?

  “Join us, Captain,” Brody said. “You know Idrib Mol is corrupt. He’s responsible for what happened to you. Help us take him down. Restore your family’s honor.”

  “Don’t speak to me of honor, human!” Kitekh roared. “You have none. Indeed, you’ve no idea what it even is.”

  Her heart pounded in her chest. It was all she could do to keep from leaping at him, his beamer be damned.

  “You’ve got no leverage, Brody,” Shinzaa said. “We’re lost in space and have to repair the ship. There’s no guarantee it can be done quickly or that we can reach civilization. Even if we get out of this, you have to sleep sometime. You can’t keep your beamer trained on us forever.”

  “I’ve got more options than you think, Muur,” he countered. “But it would be better if everyone decided to be reasonable.”

  Yellow sparks of electricity suddenly crackled across Brody’s body, wrapping him in golden ropes of current. He shook violently, as though someone had run a live power cord into his ship suit. Involuntarily, he hurled his beamer across the hold. It skidded to a stop at Rischa’s feet. Brody twitched for several more seconds before collapsing to the deck.

  Alan stood behind him holding a pistol. He grinned triumphantly.

  “Ha!” Alan crowed. “Told you, Rischa! Told you an electroray gun was a good weapon!”

  Kitekh raced to Brody’s fallen body and examined him. He was still breathing.

  “Well, he’s not dead,” she said.

  “Assuming the genius here didn’t send him into cardiac arrest with that thing,” Rischa said.