Shades of Dark (31 page)

“Damn, Chaz,” came back the reply. “That was almost fun.”

I released my straps and swiveled my chair around. “I’m on my way down. With Sully,” I added, seeing him rise from his seat at weapons. “Stay—”

Long-range scan emitted a shrill blast. “Shit! What?” I swung back into my chair and saw the familiar signatures of two Maven-class destroyers directly in our path, on a dead-eye heading for us.

“Forty minutes out,” Sully confirmed. “At current speeds.”

“We’re thirty from gate,” Del said.

Sully glanced at me. “Go get Guthrie. Stash him in sick bay or bring him up here. I don’t care. But I need your ass back in that chair in five minutes. We’re going to make a run for that gate. And we’re going to have to blast through two Imperial cruisers to do it.”

I ran down the corridor, took the aft stairs to the shuttle bay two at a time, heart pounding. I knew Philip was alive because I had talked to him. But I didn’t know if he needed medical attention. On top of that, his short report of what happened the past three days while we were cut off from Imperial politics scared the hell out of me: Admirals’ Council disbanded, captains dead. All on Tage’s orders.

What would be waiting for us at Dock Five?

I slapped at the palm pad for the shuttle bay doors and for once they opened without my having to engage the override. The sickeningly sweet scent of the fire foam assaulted me immediately, along with the oily charred odor of burning plastics and metals.

Sprinklers had already kicked on and off, clearing away much of the foam. Coughing, I sprinted through puddles toward the hulking wreckage of the
Loviti
’s pinnace.

The hatch door slid sideways when I was halfway there. Admiral Philip Guthrie leaned against the edge of the square opening, a tall man with prematurely slate-gray hair and sharp blue eyes. He was almost incongruous standing there in his formal Imperial dress-grays, surrounded by the wreckage, but his uniform was far from spotless. One jacket sleeve was ripped and as I came closer, I could see darkened areas on his left temple and on his white shirtfront. Blood.

His jacket was open. A dual holster wrapped around his hips. He held a rifle, strap dangling, in his left hand.

“Philip!”

“Ramp’s jammed. Catch.” He tossed me the rifle then hunkered down and hung his legs over the edge. He pushed off, dropping the eight or so feet to the deck still glistening with water and foam.

I grabbed him when he wavered. That told me he was injured beyond the gashes on his face. His body was solid muscle. A drop like that normally wouldn’t faze him.

“Sick bay’s this way.”

“Wait.” He had one arm over my shoulder, his gaze searching my face. “Just let me…” His voice was raspy. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

My heart constricted. I did not need to be reminded that things between me and Philip had never completely ended. There was something there. There always would be. I cared deeply about Philip. But I loved Sully. I was his
ky’sara
.

“I have two Maven-class cruisers looking to dead-eye me. I don’t have time. Sick bay or bridge. I need an answer now.”

He straightened, nodding. He was Fleet, like me. Shut off the emotions, get the job done. Collapse or cry later.

“Bridge,” he said, moving forward, his arm sliding off my shoulder. “And it’s not you they want. It’s me.”

I handed him the rifle. He looped the strap over his shoulder.

“Bring me up to date. We’ve been comm-dead in jump, then out here for three days with no news feeds.” We exited into the corridor. I hit the palm pad to close the doors as we went by. “This is radical, even for Tage. What happened?”

“Sullivan’s on the bridge?”

I nodded as we reached the stairs. I didn’t do two at a time on the way up but kept moving. I had no reason to believe those two cruisers wouldn’t kick their drives hot when they realized what happened to the pinnace.

“Marsh, Del, Verno too,” I said. Philip had only met Verno and Ren when the
Loviti
pulled us off Marker. “Del’s Stolorth,” I added because I felt he should have fair warning, on that aspect at least.

“Regarth?”

“Yes.”

Philip gave me a quizzical glance then shrugged. “I’ll hold off so I don’t have to say it all twice. But, Chaz, before we get there.” He grabbed my arm and stopped climbing. “Are you all right?”

I looked at him. “You’ve got blood dripping down your face and you’re asking me?”

“That’s not what I mean, damn it, and you know that. Tage released everything your brother knew about Sullivan.”

“We saw.” I moved up the stairs again. So did he.

“His life as he knew it is over.”

I stopped at the blast door to the main corridor. If the situation weren’t so dire, I would have laughed. “Philip, that’s the understatement of the century. But yes, he’s expecting rejection, even retaliation. He can handle it.”

“And you? How will you as his
ky’sara
handle it?”

“I haven’t thought that far ahead. People keep ramming ships into us. It’s kept me busy.” I started to push against the heavy door but stopped. I looked up at him, realizing how odd it was not to be able to hear someone’s thoughts, sense his emotions when you talked to him. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t clearly read his feelings on his face, just as I could when I saw him leaning in the pinnace’s hatchway. Just as I could when he told me he thought he’d never see me again. Being on the
Karn
was not going to be easy for him, and he had more than a few surprises ahead. He deserved a better answer than my quick quip about ships. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m very glad you’re safe.”

“I wish circumstances were different.”

“So do I.” I shoved the door open and trotted quickly for the bridge, Philip on my heels.

Sully and Del both turned when we came through the hatchway. I felt Sully’s probe sweep over me but then it was gone. If he had comments or questions about Philip being here, he wasn’t asking them now.

I did quick introductions because there wasn’t much time. Philip would have to tell his story while we fought off a pair of cruisers.

“Philip Guthrie, you remember Verno? That’s Marsh Ganton, engineer. Captain Regarth, second pilot and, right now, helm.”

“Sullivan.” Philip looked at the man who needed no introduction. But Philip’s family had studied
Ragkirils
. Philip knew more than most humans did. I took my seat in the pilot’s chair and saw we were moving quickly at specs-plus for the gate. I wondered if Philip would spot what was different about Sully now. I wondered if he’d realize who Del was.

“Thanks for the lift,” Philip was saying. “I have news—lots of it—and most of it bad. But you have trouble coming. Partly my fault, I’m afraid.”

Sully nodded slowly. “You want a med-kit?”

Philip patted his forehead gingerly then raised an eyebrow at the blood on his fingers. “I must look pretty bad. Chaz asked the same thing.”

“Sit.” I motioned to the empty chair behind Verno at communications. “I’ll get Dorsie up here to work on you.”

“First things first,” Philip said. He pulled the rifle’s strap from his shoulder and held the weapon out toward Sully, stock first. “This might interest you and,” he paused with a glance at Del, “Captain Regarth.”

Del chuckled. “I’ve long found your family’s research on us interesting. Incomplete but interesting.”

Well, that answered one question.

Yes, lover, he’s guessed who I am. The history of the Serians is something the Guthries did manage to record fairly accurately.

Sully was hefting the rifle. I had no idea if he heard Del’s comment to me. He ran one hand down the stock then stopped suddenly. “Fuck.” A spurt of alarm first from Sully, then Del.

I couldn’t catch the details that flowed between Sully and Del, only that the rifle contained something that impacted the
Kyi
and those who used it.

Philip lowered himself into the seat. “I don’t have to tell you that’s one of the reasons Tage wants me dead.”

“Let me see it,” Del said.

“Cruisers thirty-five minutes and closing,” I announced as Sully tossed Del the rifle.

“I can get you a little more power,” Marsh said, “but I’ll have to pull from the shields.”

“Do it,” Sully said as I nodded.

“How many of these do they have?” Del asked Philip.

“I’ve seen three. I’m fairly sure they’re all prototypes. The others were smaller, lighter in weight, and the power packs were different.”

Dorsie bustled onto the bridge in response to my earlier request, med-kit in hand. We had one on the bridge, but I knew she liked hers from the galley better. I did a quick introduction, and then Philip sat quietly as Dorsie fussed over him, cleaning the dried blood and sticking clear anti-infection patches on the cuts and gashes.

Del tossed the rifle back to Sully, who left his station at nav just long enough to secure the weapon in the locked storage compartment in the ready room. We had more pressing problems. Like the cruisers.

“Strap in,” I ordered. “They just kicked weapons ports hot. I don’t think they’ll be able to intercept us. But they’re going to try to blow some damn big holes in us before we get there.”

The ready room chairs all had safety straps. Dorsie grabbed one by the door. She’d only be in the way on the bridge.

Philip unhooked his straps. “Sullivan, I can work second nav.”

“Take weapons,” Sully said. “Del and I are the only ones who can work nav for this jump.”

I caught Philip’s curious glance as he changed seats.

“It’s a
Kyi
gate,” Sully told him. “Your family’s research is about to get a little more complete.”

Data I’d been waiting for flashed on my screen. “Got ident on the cruisers.
Ghita Day
and,” and I hesitated, seeing the second ship’s name on my screen, “the
Masling
.”

I glanced at Philip, then remembered what he’d said earlier. Captain Cory Bennton was dead. He’d been Philip’s commanding officer for many years. Later, a very good friend. That’s why seeing ship’s ident had startled me. “I can’t believe Cory’s crew didn’t mutiny.”

“A lot did,” Philip said grimly. “But Tage had his people standing by.”

“Enough to staff a cruiser?”

“Fleet’s well below capacity and, mark my words, that will hurt Tage in the short run. But he’s using Prew’s Special Reserves, a lot of whom came through Fleet. We can only hope whoever’s sitting in Cory’s seat now has shit for brains and pie-plates for hands.”

“Prew authorized this?” Sully asked.

“Prew’s made Tage Supreme Military Commander, or some such title.” Philip grimaced in distaste. “I was trying to avoid a one-way trip to Moabar when the announcement came through and wasn’t paying much attention to the festivities.”

That scared me more than the two cruisers ahead of us. The Guthries were one of the oldest, most respected families in the Empire. Moves like that against Philip would cause deep repercussions.

“Philip, what in hell’s going on?”

“Hell, nugget, pure and simple. Now, keep an eye on the
Masling
. She’s the better ship, just out of refit. She’ll pull ahead of the
Day
. Olefar is one who quickly swore allegiance to Tage,” Philip continued, naming the
Day
’s longtime, long-hated captain. “Good riddance. Tage can keep him. He’ll also be one to waste his birds early on. Another reason he hangs back.”

Nothing like a reliable inside source.

I could almost grow to like the man,
Del said.

From Sully, a silence I didn’t know how to interpret. And had no time to ponder further.

Philip was right about Olefar. A pair of bogies streaked toward us as the
Masling
moved ahead. But so did we, dropping secondary aft shields almost completely, Marsh working magic to assure we’d make the jumpgate. It would not be a pretty entrance—if we made it. Max sublight ones never were, the gate’s hard edge playing havoc as a ship switched too abruptly from sublights to hyperdrive. But it was the only chance we had. We had to make jump. The
Karn
was no match for two Fleet cruisers in a firefight.

Philip countered the first pair of bogies easily, but there were more behind those, and the
Masling
kicked up to speeds that had me wondering if Sully didn’t have a sibling out there somewhere in engineering.

Philip didn’t like what he saw, but not for the obvious reasons. “Her core will burn out at that rate. And that will be a waste of a damned fine ship.”

“They want you, badly,” Sully said.

“Yes,” was Philip’s answer, but no explanation. I knew one was coming, once we got past this and were just ghosts again in jumpspace. And I had a very strong feeling I wasn’t going to like what I’d hear.

“Seventeen minutes to hard edge,” Del announced.

I felt a new flurry of information between him and Sully. What I could catch was just guidance, gate data. Sully was focused on the nav console, not even raising his head to watch another set of plasma torpedoes burst apart under Philip’s sure hand at weapons.