Endgame

We do. Or the La’heng Liberation Army does. At this point, we’re so few against so many that all are welcome, whatever their species or motivations.

CHAPTER 12

Things just get more complicated.

Constance pokes me awake in the middle of the night—not that you can tell what time it is outside the mountain except that we’ve programmed the environment to match planetary cycles. The lights inside the LLA base have a special fuse that compensates for lack of sunlight. Those with skills unsuited to combat will be here a long time, running support on missions, and we had to factor that into the design.

I sit up, shoving the hair from my eyes, and frown up at her. “What’s wrong?”

“Urgent message, Sirantha Jax.”

What the hell…nobody has the codes here. This can’t be good. I sit up.

“Do I need to—”

“No, I recorded and downloaded to my internal systems.”

Even with that warning, it’s still a fragging terrible shock for March’s voice to come out of Constance’s mouth. I stare, unable to believe what I’m hearing.

He’s too smart to identify himself, but it’s definitely him. “We…missed our flight. It’s complicated. I’ll explain when I see you. Now the spaceport’s locked down. I went back to the house, but you’ve already vacated. I need to get Sasha someplace safe. Come when you get this. We’re not going anywhere.”

“How did this come in?” I demand.

“It was bounced to the shuttle’s comm code.”

Right. I remember now. Vel took Sasha to see some ruins in the mountains; the kid rang the house to tell March how awesome it was, but we scrubbed all records from the comm suite before we left. Which means one of them remembered the codes on screen from that single call. It’s the kind of thing I expect from March, actually, attention to detail that makes any operation he plans go smooth as silk.

Constance goes on, “A maintenance worker forwarded it to me. He guessed it was important though he didn’t know the particulars.”

Mary bless you, sir.

I can’t risk sending a return message, but there’s no question I’ll go get them. Shit, March must be so pissed. I thought they were long gone.

The days we spent together during his visit let the Imperial forces drop their guard after the final ruling. The centurions spent a week and a half on high alert, and just before I dropped March at the spaceport, the Imperials reduced patrols and went back to business as usual, assuming our group had been defeated. People who file motions generally don’t have a backup plan that involves destabilizing the government.

“Wake Vel,” I tell Constance, who looks worried. “I’ll throw some clothes on and meet you in comms.”

The Paula unit is capable of fifteen basic human facial responses, and she’s programmed herself to reflect the one she deduces is most suitable for any situation. She’s come a long way from the little round gizmo I first encountered on Lachion. Most people can’t tell she’s a bot, in fact, unless they’re familiar with the model.

She doesn’t argue, just leaves my quarters without wasted words.

It takes me only a few seconds to throw on black trousers and a light-armored flex-shirt. It’s formfitting but provides great ease of movement. Quickly, I strap on my weapons and tie my hair up. I need to be ready to move once I get Vel.

There are few people in the dimly lit halls. Most went to sleep hours before; there are just a few wildly dedicated La’heng who have barely slept at all since they took the cure. I understand their feverish devotion to the cause; if I were them, I’d feel the same way.

“Is he on the way?” I ask Constance as I stride in.

“There was no answer. I have tried several possible locations—to no avail.”

If he’s not in his room, he’s awake. He’s not in the docking bay, tinkering, or he’d have heard the incoming message himself, and he’d have woken me. It’s not the sort of news he’d trust to an intermediary. The base sprawls over a kilometer of ground, with different areas of concentration.

After a moment’s thought, I say, “Buzz R&D.”

“This is Devries,” a male voice replies.

“Is Vel there?” I ask, leaning over Constance toward the mic.

“He is. I’ll put him on.”

Thank Mary.

“Something wrong, Sirantha?” I’d be asleep at the moment if shit hadn’t gone sideways, so it’s a fair question.

I summarize, then add, “Meet me at the shuttle in five minutes.”

“Less, if I can.” He cuts the comm connection.

“Hold the fort,” I tell Constance. Then I sprint for the hangar.

If Loras and Zeeka wake before I return, she’ll fill them in. This is a mission that doesn’t require numbers. Vel might be able to handle it alone since he’s both a pilot and a badass former bounty hunter, but there’s no way I’m delegating this task. I won’t rest until we’re back at base, human cargo in tow.

I’m out of breath when I arrive. The shuttle door’s ajar, waiting for me to board; Vel’s already in the pilot chair. I clamber in and hit the button to seal the cabin. That much I can do, though I’m useless otherwise…unless he needs a gunner. Mary, I hope we don’t. This needs to be a silent run.

“Do you think they’ve connected me to the bombing yet?”

“Unlikely. With systems crippled, it will take them a couple of days to narrow down possible culprits manually,” he answers, checking the instrument panel.

“Even with a VA’s help?” Though true AIs are prohibited, due to humanity’s fear of machines running amok and enslaving them, virtual assistants are popular, having more limited programming and protocols. They’re often used for tasks too monotonous for people to tolerate, like sorting endless registries of names and looking for matches. “I’m a natural suspect after the way I harassed Legate Flavius—”

“But my name was not used in any of your motions,” he reminds me. “And I purchased the house.”

“But you’re a known associate of mine.”

“True enough. But as long as we slide in and out, there should be no complications.”

“Should be,” I mutter, strapping in.

He completes his check, and I take a deep, worried breath. The danger comes when we open the outer door that seals any sign of our facility from the outside world. There’s always risk, and we’ve tried to minimize it by coming and going during the night. Fortunately, it’s still dark, and the Imperial forces should still be working on rescue and recovery, not hunting down those responsible yet. Not scanning for unusual energy emission on the surface in a region where there’s nothing at all.

“Try not to fret, Sirantha. We will get them out safely.”

“The timing could’ve been worse for a rescue,” I mumble.

Vel nods as he maneuvers the shuttle out through the tunnel. At first we hit the wind and drop; despite my anxiety, my pulse leaps. I love to fly, even within the atmosphere. The thrusters burn as he throttles up, yielding enough altitude to clear the mountains ahead. I hope the Imperials won’t be watching the sky or monitoring air traffic too closely right now.

For safety’s sake, he should be running lights so we don’t collide with another craft. Instead, Vel relies on the external sensors, and we’ll quietly avoid anything we see up here. The base is remote, so there’s nothing in the sky tonight anyway. I mutter my thanks for that as he closes the distance to the house.

“How mad do you think March is?” I ask quietly.

He angles me a look of amusement, punctuated by the movement of his mandible. Great, Vel thinks this is funny. “Let me sum up: He is stranded with his young nephew, whom he would do anything to protect, on a world in which a war is brewing, and they have no means of escape, no way of returning to the safe, comfortable life they have built.”

“That’s what I figured.”

“But no matter how furious he is, he would never lay a hand on you, as long as he is in his right mind.”

It goes without saying that Vel won’t let that happen again, not after Ithiss-Tor. He blames himself, I think, for the marks that required his tattoo around my throat, color to hide the bruises from when March tried to kill me. That will never happen again, and I shiver a little at the thought of the two males I love coming to blows. I won’t let them hurt each other in my name.

“He’ll be mad when we find them, but not crazy.” I try a smile, but Vel is somber, a little troubled, I think.

I settle back and wait because there’s nothing else I can do just now.

Imperial Public Service Announcement

[A ticker runs on the screen, listing the names of the missing and the dead. The Nicuan presenter looks suitably grave, dressed in a dark suit, his hair just disheveled enough to suggest restrained, noble grief.]

It is official. By the time order had been restored in Jineba, the edict came down from the Conglomerate. They have locked down interstellar travel until local affairs stabilize. The Nicuan Empire assures you that our centurions are the best trained soldiers in the civilized world. They will not rest until the culprits responsible for these egregious terrorist acts have been apprehended. The investigation is ongoing, and we expect to have the criminals in custody soon.

In the meantime, you will notice some changes to security procedures in urban areas. This is for your safety and protection. Loyal citizens have nothing to fear from these measures. We will be increasing drone security in outlying areas, and there will be a curfew implemented in all urban zones. We urge caution to anyone traveling outside these safe zones as we cannot guarantee your security in the provinces. At this time, patrols have been assigned to those areas most densely settled by Nicuan citizens.

In conclusion, respect the curfew. Be vigilant and report any violation of new security laws to the legate in charge of your borough. Remember, safety is everyone’s business.

[End PSA]

CHAPTER 13

The shuttle has good vertical maneuvering capability, so Vel puts us down within a stone’s throw of the house. For obvious reasons, we can’t be here long. Every second increases the chances that someone will notice readings out of place even though this property is isolated. I vault out, check my weapons, and follow Vel.

I’m nervous.

Logically, I know Vel’s right; the Imperials shouldn’t have tracked me to this property purchase yet. Which means this isn’t a trap. March and Sasha truly need our help.

On approach, the windows are dark. They could be asleep; it’s been a while since they bounced the message. That doesn’t seem like March, though. I bet he’s standing guard while Sasha rests. If I know him, he’s looking for me, watching the sky.

Vel checks the perimeter. “It looks clean.”

“Then let’s go in after them.”

“In and out,” he agrees.

The codes haven’t changed; that’s a good thing. With my thumbprint, a retinal scan, and the pass code, I get us into the house. Vel could crack it if March reprogrammed the system for greater safety, but it might cost time we need to make our escape. Hopefully not. Vel and I split up, and I creep through the dark house toward the bedrooms.