Cradle of War (A Captain's Crucible Book 3) (9 page)

Jonathan watched the
Callaway
shrink to nothingness beyond the portal, and when it vanished to the naked eye his sadness was complete. The fleet would make it back of course, of that he was certain, yet he believed in his heart he would never see them again.

This is our final farewell, then.

“Is everything all right, sir?” Helium said. The MOTH LPO sat across from him.

Jonathan hadn’t realized he was crying. He forced a smile. “Everything’s fine. I just get a little emotional when I leave my ship, that’s all.”

He leaned slightly to the left so that the folded form of one of the Centurions blocked him from the LPO’s view.

T
he instant the craft entered the
Talon’s
hangar bay, Jonathan felt the artificial gravity from the alien vessel glue him to the seat. The aReal in his helmet reported it at one point one Gs.

Jonathan felt the vibrations as the craft touched down.

Gazing through the portal across from him, he watched two human telemetry drones land in the hangar shortly thereafter. The spherical craft would boost the signal from the captured comm node Barrick utilized aboard the
Talon
; without those drones, the communications range of the node was limited, and the alien vessel risked a long range missile attack from United Systems patrol ships when it reached human space.

When the two drones had landed, Chief Galaal addressed the robots. “Prepare to assume defensive formation Cigar!”

The Centurions unfolded and unmounted from the deck, then moved to the shuttle’s armory. Like clockwork, they retrieved laser rifles in turn from the rack, sliding the straps over their shoulders. There were only two kinds of weapons: the M114s and the heavier M1170s, and the robots took them seemingly without preference, though Jonathan suspected the Praetors had determined the weapon assignments before the mission had even started.

Both types of rifles had been modified to penetrate the Raakarr darkness shields, though it was likely the aliens had already updated their shielding to obsolete the rifle changes. That was another reason Jonathan had brought Connie along—so she could hopefully keep their defenses up to date. It might involve the surreptitious “borrowing” of one of the on-board darkness generators, of course.

Chief Galaal turned to Jonathan. “Captain, stay aboard with the science officers and captains until I give the all clear.”

“Understood,” Jonathan said. He glanced at Sil Chopra, but her gaze was lowered to the deck. She gave no indication she was concerned for her father, though she was probably worried to death.

“The bay doors have closed,” the AI announced. “Detecting external atmosphere repopulation...”

“Commander, are you still reading us?” Jonathan said over the comm.

He glanced at the the guest connection area of his helmet aReal. The commander was still listed as his sole remote viewer. The wireless signal passed from Jonathan’s aReal to the communication node of the shuttle before heading toward the telemetry drone placed between the
Talon
and the
Callaway
. At the current range signal reception should have been quite good, unless the Raakarr had done something to degrade it. He glanced at the upper right of his faceplate: three of the the four stacked half-circles that represented signal quality were lit.

Some moments later Robert’s reply came. “Loud and clear.”

“The atmosphere of the external compartment has stabilized,” the Dragonfly’s AI announced. “Movement has been detected near the far bulkhead.”

Jonathan glanced at Chief Galaal. “Pilot,” he told the AI. “Open the external ramp.”

The aft ramp lowered.

“Deploy deploy deploy!” the chief yelled over the comm.

The combat robots piled outside. Chief Galaal and his LPO soon followed. Via the tactical display of his helmet aReal, Jonathan watched their dots form an elongated ellipse around the craft. Three red dots appeared on the far side of the hangar: their welcoming party, no doubt.

“It’s clear, Captain,” Chief Galaal transmitted. “I have Barrick waiting here with two of his alien friends.”

“Thank you, Chief,” Jonathan said. His restraints retracted and he stood.

Rodriguez stretched nearby. “This is going to take a little getting used to. The gravity, I mean.”

“Come on, it’s only one point one Gs,” Sil said.

“Hey, I feel it, you know?” Rodriguez lifted his hands as if testing the new weight of his arms. “At least the suit is compensating a little bit. But not much. We really need those MOTH exoskeletons.”

“Look on the bright side,” Connie said. “You’ll be in the best shape of your life when you return to standard gravity.”

Jonathan beckoned toward the ramp. “After you, ladies and gentlemen.”

“Gentleman, you mean,” Captain Rodriguez said. “I’m the only other man here, besides you.”

Jonathan glanced at Rail. “Some might disagree.”

“I heard that,” Rail growled.

Jonathan raised his palms defensively. “I meant that as a compliment.”

“I’m sure you did,” she retorted.

Near the ramp, Connie paused beside the storage compartment, where the flight deck crew had stowed several canisters of extra oxygen for the mission. “Should we stock up on oxygen now?”

“Might as well,” Jonathan said, shoving two spare canisters into his harness. The Raakarr had promised to refill their empties, but it never hurt to have extra.

Jonathan stepped into the alien hangar bay. Small filaments glowed blue in unique, almost floral patterns on the metal bulkheads, providing dim background light to the shuttle’s headlamps. Everything was hued yellow, thanks to the hydrogen sulfide and methane that composed much of the alien atmosphere.

Barrick was waiting near the far bulkhead beside two of the black, living fogs that were the Raakarr. Those dark tendrils groped at their surroundings constantly, as if searching for some tiny prey to snatch out of the air. Connie had determined that the darkness was an environmental suit of some kind, in addition to a shield. Though the aliens were obviously using it mostly for the latter purposes at the moment.

“Enough combat robots?” Barrick’s voice came inside Jonathan’s helmet. There was a slight echo, because the telepath was using his external speakers, rather than the comm system.

“We agreed I would be allowed an armed escort at all times,” Jonathan said, using his own external speakers.

“We did,” Barrick said. “But I wasn’t expecting a whole platoon of the robots. I get the feeling you don’t really trust me or Valor.”

“Your intuition would be correct,” Jonathan said. He turned toward Chief Galaal. “Chief, send him our private broadcast code.”

A moment later Barrick’s voice came much clearer over the comm. “So I’m part of the team now, am I?”

“Think of the broadcast code as a favor from me to you,” Jonathan said. “A favor I can easily revoke. Your purpose here is to facilitate communications between the Raakarr and I. While you’re nothing more than a translator, as my former crew member I expect you to obey my every command, and to translate faithfully.”

“Thank you for clarifying my position, Captain,” Barrick returned.

Jonathan smiled coldly. “You’re very welcome. So, have you arranged living quarters for us?”

“I have. But before I can take you there, please lay out your belongings on the deck.”

Jonathan glanced at the party. His companions seemed incredulous.

The captain sighed. “Do as he asks.”

He shrugged the backpack down from his spacesuit and placed it on the deck. The others did the same beside him. The Centurions remained still, as none of them carried any personal belongings.

“Open them,” Barrick said. “And empty the contents.”

“I thought we were guests?” Jonathan said.

“Captain, please,” Barrick replied. “You would make a visiting party of Raakarr do the same.”

“Would I?”

He obeyed nonetheless, and emptied his few belongings from the backpack. A pack of animated playing cards. An ancient watch made of gold. His personal aReal spectacles. Various items of clothing. A bar of soap—though he doubted the aliens would provide showers. The last item took up half the room in the container: it was the psi-shielded tent Connie’s team had made for him.

When everyone had emptied their backpacks, Barrick had the party members step back and the aliens proceeded to examine the belongings. Tendrils of black mist enwrapped the empty backpacks; Jonathan at times saw claws momentarily emerge from the darkness.

Jonathan was sure the aliens had scanners available that negated the need for such physical searches. He believed the sole purpose of the procedure was to debase and humiliate them: the Raakarr’s way of letting them know who was truly in charge.

One of the black fogs confiscated Connie’s portable scanner.

“Hey!” Connie said. “I need that!”

“Let it go, Lieutenant,” Jonathan said gently. So much for studying the aliens firsthand.

The second Raakarr took away the monitoring equipment Sil Chopra herself was carrying.

“That’s important scientific equipment,” Connie protested.

“Though we are allies,” Barrick said. “You must understand if the Zarafe don’t want you spying on them and their technology.”

“That’s fine,” Jonathan said. “But ask Valor when we can expect our equipment back.”

Barrick paused, presumably communicating with Valor, who was likely on the bridge. That Barrick could reach him from there showed the extent of the telepath’s abilities.

“Valor says he will hold onto the equipment indefinitely,” Barrick replied.

“Wonderful,” Connie said.

“Do you want me to intervene in any way, Captain?” Robert sent from the
Callaway’s
bridge via a private line.

“No,” Jonathan answered. “Not for this. Barrick does have a point: we wouldn’t want visiting aliens to spy on us, either. Besides, we have to choose our battles. In the interest of promoting a good relationship with them, I’m going to let it slide.”

“You may retrieve your belongings now,” Barrick announced.

“Pack up, people,” Jonathan said.

He stuffed the psi-shielded tent and his other personal belongings back into the backpack, then shrugged it on once more.

“Valor is telling me that the robots must give up their weapons,” Barrick said. “And that you must submit to a search of the Dragonfly.”

The dark masses approached two of the robots.

“No on both accounts,” Jonathan said firmly. “Tell them to back off.”

“I tried, but they won’t listen, Captain,” Barrick replied.

Jonathan glanced at the chief. “Tell your robots to defend.”

“Gladly,” Chief Galaal answered.

A moment later the servomotors of the Centurions buzzed into action and all sixteen combat robots in the bay pointed their rifles at Barrick and the two dark masses.

The living fogs halted in place and a tense silence followed.

“Even if our rifles don’t penetrate the Raakarr shielding, nothing will protect you, Barrick,” Jonathan said. “How would Valor feel about losing his translator?”

Jonathan was bluffing of course. The last thing he wanted to do was sever his communication link with the aliens.

“I’ve told him your words,” the telepath replied. “Valor hasn’t responded yet.”

“Damn it, Barrick,” Jonathan said. “We arranged all of this beforehand. Valor
agreed
to an armed escort. And that our shuttle wouldn’t be searched.”

Barrick nodded. “I know, Captain Dallas. And I’m sorry. I believe he is merely prodding the proverbial horse: he wants to test his limits with you.”

“Well tell him not to prod too far,” Jonathan said. “He might not be all that pleased when the horse kicks him in the proverbial ass.”

Barrick remained silent, ostensibly communicating with either the present Raakarr, or Valor himself. Jonathan had thought Valor was on the bridge, but it was possible he was right there in the hangar bay with them, pretending to be one of those “guards”—Jonathan and the others would have never known it. Barrick would have, of course.

“We’re here if you need us, Captain,” Robert reminded him over the comm.

“I know, Commander,” Jonathan replied.

“Valor says you are on his ship now, and must obey his rules,” Barrick said. “And if you harm his translator, there will be grave repercussions.”

“No dice,” Jonathan said. “We’re not backing down on this. Tell him that humans don’t allow others to back down from something they’ve agreed on. It sets a bad precedent, especially if the Raakarr want us to sign some sort of peace treaty with them down the line. If we can’t trust them now, how are we supposed to trust them going forward? We’re not giving up our weapons. Nor may he search the Dragonfly. If he wants to keep us confined to the hangar bay for the duration of the journey, that’s fine.”

The silence stretched out.

“Valor says he will allow the combat robots to keep their weapons,” Barrick announced a moment later. “And there will be no search of the shuttle.”

“How magnanimous,” Captain Rail said.

“But,” Barrick continued. “The rest of you must give up your weapons if you wish to enter the ship proper.” He glanced at the two MOTHs.

Jonathan could have laughed. The combat robots were deadlier than the two MOTHs combined. It didn’t make sense to allow the Centurions to keep their weapons, but then take them away from Chief Galaal and Helium. It was Valor’s weak attempt to save face, to prove he was the one still in command.

“Do it Chief, Helium,” Jonathan said.