The Galactic Blind (Stellar Outlaw Book 3), page 8
Dev wasn’t sure what to say to that. Dask really was a bastard at his core. Or at least he wanted everyone to think he was. Could it all be an act? Some kind of cover?
“Why do you even want to go back to the Coalition?” Dask asked, snapping Dev back from his thoughts. “Wasn’t good enough here for you?”
Dev squared his shoulders. “It’s not that. I learned the translocator might have the ability to rescue the people trapped on Claxia Prime. If there’s even a chance we can get those people back to their families, I have to take it.”
Dask made a grumbling noise in the back of his throat and turned his back on Dev, headed for the workstation again.
“But now, knowing that Nolan is still out there causing havoc, I can’t stand by when I know I can stop him.”
“Can’t you?” Dask asked, taking his seat again. “That hasn’t gone so well for you in the past. Even when you had him in custody.”
Dev walked up to the workstation. “I don’t need you to remind me of my failures. At least I’m willing to go out there and try to help. But I guess we’re not all wired that way.”
“Guess not,” Dask said, feigning nonchalance. He’d picked up the small item and proceeded to reassemble it, no longer even acknowledging Dev.
Dev pushed a deep breath out. He hadn’t come down here to debate with Dask. “Traxia needs your help.”
“I don’t work for her anymore. I’m just a glorified passenger now.”
“If you don’t help, there’s a good chance the ship will either be destroyed or captured before we reach Trykelta.”
“Guess she better turn around then.” He pushed two sides of the item back together. They beeped.
“She won’t do that.”
Dask didn’t say anything further, though to Dev it looked like he might be trying too hard to keep all his attention off Dev. Whatever his problem was, Dev wasn’t making any progress. This had been little more than a waste of everyone’s time. He headed for the exit.
“A little bit of free advice,” Dask said just as Dev reached the corridor. He stopped but didn’t turn to look at the Ashkasian. “Don’t let a vendetta take over your life. It won’t turn out well. Better to just ignore it and move on.”
Dev frowned, unsure if he heard sincerity in Dask’s words or not. But he didn’t give the other man the satisfaction of turning around. Instead, he headed back to the bridge to deliver the bad news.
13
Equipment
Traxia sat on the bridge, tapping her finger on the edge of her seat. Had she made the right call? Or had this just been another one of those impulse decisions that kept getting her in trouble all the time? Why would she set a course for Trykelta when she knew every Coalition ship in fifty light-years could see them coming? Had it just been the excitement of taking charge and heading back into the fray? After weeks of little more than courier jobs that barely kept them afloat, this was the first time she’d felt good about her job. And part of her hated that.
She’d never set out to do anything more than survive in the Sargan Commonwealth. But after spending a few months there and seeing how hard life was for most people, that goal had changed. She watched people robbed and beaten in the streets for what little they had on them and decided she never wanted to be one of those people. Growing up during the war, she’d seen some terrible things, but when the New Coalition formed she’d thought those days were behind her. It was only after being part of that organization for a few years she decided she couldn’t do it anymore. She saw the New Coalition as an attempt to mask what had come before. People there didn’t like to talk about the war or the atrocities they’d witnessed. They just wanted things to get back to the way they’d been before the Athru had invaded. She thought she could bury it like everyone else, but she was wrong.
The Sargan Commonwealth was the only place she could go and make a life for herself out from under the umbrella of the Coalition. It was a risk, but she was willing to take it. She’d decided she wasn’t going to be a victim of either society, instead she was going to rise to the top, using whatever means possible. And she might have made some questionable decisions and taken some less-than-ethical actions, but within a year of arriving in the Commonwealth she’d had her own ship and the beginnings of a crew. That never would have been possible back in the Coalition. She’d felt alive back then, like she was plowing forward and no one could stop her.
But before Dev showed up, life had slowed to a trickle, and she’d gotten sloppy. Nu-don never should have made it on the crew and Traxia should have seen her for what she was long before Dev showed up. She’d gotten soft in her time in the Commonwealth. Perhaps it was because smuggling illegal substances from one Sargan sect to another held no appeal for her. It wasn’t doing anything for anyone, not really. She’d become nothing more than a small cog in a large machine that probably wouldn’t be missed and could be replaced by another cog just like her if anything happened. That was why Nu-don had gotten as far as she had. And until Dev had come along, Traxia hadn’t realized just how complacent and complicit she’d become. It was never supposed to be about crime, crime was just supposed to be one of the avenues she used to elevate herself and her crew. Maybe that’s why she had decided on this course of action. Maybe the guilt was getting to her.
Dev appeared in the back passageway leading to the bridge. Ful caught her attention and pointed him out. “Any luck?” she asked.
Dev shook his head. “He’s checked out. It’s almost like he wants us to fail.”
“He probably does, on some level,” she replied. “Retribution for me going back on my word to him.” She drew a deep breath. “So, we have no way of disguising ourselves from this tiny armada that is more than likely amassing to catch us.”
“Captain,” Three said, standing. Her entire top torso rotated around to face Traxia. “You didn’t give me a fair chance. I believe the blinders can work, but you need to stop treating me like a piece of equipment.”
Traxia’s skin tingled. “I don’t treat you like a piece of equipment,” she said.
“You do,” Three replied. “Everyone else here gets breaks. I’m expected to be on duty at all times. At no point do you ever ask for my opinion. You said to Dask everyone agreed this was the course of action we should take, but you never asked me. Would it surprise you to know I agree with Dask this time? I don’t think we should be in the middle of Coalition space. It’s too dangerous for us and the likelihood of success is low. I am also often left alone, with no one considering how it might make me feel. Robots can be lonely too.”
Traxia stood, holding out both her hands, a sick feeling bubbling up from somewhere deep inside. “Three, I…I can only apologize. You’re right. I’ve been taking you for granted. You deserve better than that. You’ve been the most reliable member of this crew and I’m sorry I didn’t acknowledge that sooner.”
Three’s orange eyes blinked a few times, but other than that Traxia couldn’t read her. “I want to be heard.”
Traxia felt like such a shit. Here she was, thinking she was an enlightened captain, one of the good ones who would take her crew under her wing and protect them like they were her own. And yet, she’d ignored one of her own for far too long. That needed to stop right now. “You will be. Do you still think you can get the blinders to work? Can you keep them from detecting us?”
“I will give it my best attempt,” Three said. “Thank you, Captain.” She turned back around and sat at her seat again then leaned over to Rep. “I need your assistance accessing the primary armor controls.”
“Um,” Rep said. “You should talk to Dev. He knows those systems better than I do.”
Three sat still for a moment until Traxia thought she might have changed her mind, when she stood, made her way around Rep and confronted Dev. “I need your assistance with the armor. We will be using it with the blinders system.”
“Of course,” Dev replied.
Twenty minutes later Three was back at her station. She and Dev had been in close contact for what seemed to be an extended period, right up until she stood and returned to her normal position. Traxia came over to Dev’s station with eyes wide. “Well?”
“I think she has everything she needs,” Dev replied. “I don’t quite understand how it works. I just know it uses the ship’s armor since that’s the only thing that covers every part of the outer surface.”
“Wait, I think I have something.” Dessa tilted her head and placed a finger on her earpiece. “It’s from Burnval, identifying us. Not so much by name, but by description. And transponder code, shit.”
“It was bound to happen,” Traxia replied.
“They’re asking for assistance, saying we’re out-pacing them.” She stared straight at Traxia. “Any available ship to please respond.”
“Dammit,” Traxia replied. “Dev, get the weapons ready. I don’t know how this is going to go, but I’m willing to bet it won’t be pretty.” Dev nodded and began work on his station. “Three, I think we’re going to have to put this on hold.”
“I almost have it,” the robot replied.
“How long?”
“A few minutes.”
“Sounds like the USCS Kinshasa and the USCS Al Ain have been dispatched to our trajectory,” Dessa said. “Intercept in less than ten minutes.”
“Damn,” Traxia replied. “They’re not wasting any time. I had thought they’d just meet us at the destination, not try to knock us out of our undercurrent.” She turned to Dev. “What do you know about those ships?”
“The Kinshasa is a Vulpini-class frigate, and not armed very well, but it’s fast. It might be able to keep up with us if they miss the intercept point. They might even be faster. I don’t know anything about the Al Ain, never heard of it before.”
Traxia settled into her chair. “Probably some super stealth ship with a thousand dart launchers on it.” With their luck, that would be the case.
“It looks like we might have a power fluctuation in our armor,” Ful said, staring at his readout.
“Three, is that you?” Traxia asked.
“One moment, Captain,” the robot replied.
“Not one moment, I need to know if you’re doing that or if they’re already on us somehow.” As the last word came out of her mouth, the bridge was plunged into darkness, the only light coming from the consoles that remained lit. Everyone begun shouting at once, but a second later, the lights came back up to normal.
“Sorry, I needed to pull an extra jolt of energy for a moment. The blinders should be active now,” Three said.
“You can’t just pull power without authorization!” Traxia yelled. “I know this isn’t exactly a military ship, but we need to keep at least some semblance of order.”
“Eight minutes to intercept,” Dessa said.
“Dev, are you showing any change in their behavior?” Traxia asked.
“If they lost track of us, they’re not putting out any signals. They’re still on the same course they were a few minutes ago,” he replied.
“Three?” Traxia asked.
“It should be working. I modified the emitters on the armor to produce a false signal that blends into the undercurrent and background radiation. They can’t see us unless they physically look out a window.”
“You managed to modify Dask’s invention?” Rep asked.
“I managed,” she replied.
“Then let’s test it out. Adjust our heading and change course.” Traxia only hoped they had done a better job than when they were in the Commonwealth, trying to avoid those Omnigynox patrols.
“Done. New heading confirmed. We’re on a different trajectory.” The robot turned around to look at Traxia. “Trust me, it will work.”
“Any change in the enemy ships?” she asked.
“Nothing,” Dev replied. “They’re still on the same course. When they intercept our old undercurrent, they won’t find anything but open space.”
Traxia stood again and gave a small bow to Three. “Well done.” She had to admit, the robot had performed better than she’d expected. Perhaps she had been biased against her and not even known it.
“Thank you, Captain.” She resumed her post.
Traxia surveyed her crew. She was prouder of this moment than almost any other before. They’d really come together to make sure they would all survive. She exchanged a knowing look with Ful. “Now all we need is a little time and a lot of luck.”
14
Colony
They had spent another full day traveling through Coalition space on their new trajectory with no sign from the Coalition ships. Somehow Three had made it all work, for which Dev was grateful. Traxia was taking an unnecessary risk by heading deeper into “enemy” territory. And if they were captured, it would be Dev’s fault. The only reason he’d allowed this at all was because Traxia had been right, getting someone to listen to him before Nolan killed even more people was unlikely. He just hoped her contact could pull through.
He’d avoided Engineering ever since his conversation with Dask, instead focusing on how he might contact some of his “old friends” if Traxia’s man wasn’t up to the task. Not that she had any fear he would flake on them, but it was better to be prepared when possible. He could go to Nick, the guy in charge of a low-level contraband ring that imported goods from the Commonwealth. He never had dealings in weapons or chemical substances; Nick was a goods man all the way. Dev had caught him on Axinal in the middle of a deal with an Untuburu woman, selling her faux religious icons from the isolated world of Grum. He’d wanted to put Nick away for five years for having the gall to try and swindle an old woman, but Nick had convinced him he could expose much bigger players than himself, though to do it he’d have to stay where he was, so no one got suspicious.
At the time it had seemed like a big risk to let someone like that work unchecked in the Coalition system, but Dev figured Nick was mostly harmless, and he could be a good conduit to the real criminals operating in the shadows. It turned out he had been right, and Nick had been a good, consistent informant ever since. He might just know how to get the translocator to the right people.
There was also another scientist on Axinal who had never been a part of Nolan’s team, Barrel. Dev had found him copying shipping manifests so he could get double the number of parts which gave him a lot more leeway when it came to his projects. It also allowed him to resell some of those parts if it struck his fancy. Dev had removed Barrel from duty and pulled his authorization clearance for six months, while also informing all the suppliers they would no longer be allowed to take any orders from him. After a while he was allowed to go back to work, and Dev hadn’t had a problem with him since. But all that had been over a year and a half ago, before he left. Things could have changed substantially since then. If neither of him nor Nick were still close, Dev might have to do something drastic.
It was strange, being back in the Coalition after so long away. Even though he hadn’t seen any familiar landmarks yet, just knowing that he was back where he began was enough to make him feel just a bit untethered. For a time he had thought he might actually end up staying in the Commonwealth. Right after he’d killed Tir’shan and Ful had saved him he’d thought there was no going back. Not after committing a murder, even if it was a murder in order to save Entara’s people.
But the strangest thing about being back was for some reason it felt more oppressive here. He hadn’t remembered it feeling like that before he’d left, and he didn’t like the idea living in the Commonwealth for so long might have changed his perspective on things. Part of him wanted to embrace the openness of the Commonwealth while another part told him he needed to hold firm to the steady drumbeat of the Coalition. He couldn’t help but wonder what might have become of him had he ended up in Commonwealth space when the war had ended, instead of a Coalition mining colony.
Dev turned away from the window where he’d been watching the stars fly by on the other side of the undercurrent. He accessed his personal database, pulling up all the information he had gathered about Investigator Sonya Gill. He’d only been thirteen when she’d died protecting him in the war, but he’d idolized her. If there was someone who always knew the right thing to do, it was her. He remembered her talking about the Robeaux trials and what a shitshow they’d been. She’d been one of the first adults to treat Dev like an equal, and maybe that’s why he’d looked up to her so much. Dev pulled the Robeaux files only to find the video footage of the events had been completely redacted. He checked any text files, but the result was the same. Finally, he accessed Sonya’s personal notes, buried deep within her database she’d given him.
“Once again, the Council’s decision has confounded me,” he read aloud, just to hear his voice. “They have chosen a cowardly path, allowing this criminal to go free, despite the fact he committed a war crime within Coalition space. Robeaux’s behavior is consistent with his record, however, I was the only dissenting voice at his trial, if you could even call it such.”
Dev sat back, thinking about her words. He recalled the day she’d come back from that meeting, fuming that the Coalition was willing to bury the fact this man had helped commit a serious crime to further their own agenda. It had only been one of a dozen different cases where she was either a participant or spectator. But time and time again, a culprit would have committed a serious offense, but if they had enough influence or it served Coalition Central’s needs, they would sweep it under the rug. She had been adamant to Dev that he never allow crime to go unpunished. It was a thin line they had to walk, between an enforcer and one who protected the rights of the innocent. She told him not everyone could do it, and it was probably one of the hardest jobs out there, but it was always worth it. He’d forgotten that during the war and promised himself afterward to never forget again. And now he had to face the possibility that he had. By deciding to murder Tir’shan, he’d taken the law into his own hands. And that wasn’t acceptable. He needed to find himself again.
