Shades of Dark (32 page)

“Marsh, how are we?” We’d have to engage the hypers shortly. And we’d be doing so at the point closest to the cruisers.

“We’re holding, Captain. But I’m going to need to back down, slough off soon. Unless this gate is different?” he asked Del.

“That will be as you’re used to. But if Sullivan or I ask you to do something, do it. There won’t be time for explanations.”

“Understood,” Marsh said but he still glanced at me, waiting for my affirmative nod before turning back to his screens. He looked nervous, and that wasn’t a demeanor Marsh wore well.

“There are no gate beacons,” Del continued. “You won’t see the gate until we’re almost at hard edge. It will respond to Sullivan and myself but, Chasidah, you will be aware of it. For that reason, it’s safer if you let us link with you. Mr. Ganton, I assume your discomfort with
Ragkirils
won’t be an issue here?”

Another glance at me from Marsh. “Uh, no.”

“Excellent. Philip, keep those cruisers away from us. And try not to worry about Chasidah. We’ll take good care of her.”

“I would expect nothing less from you,” Philip answered, but I didn’t miss the tightness in his voice.

Now that that’s settled…
Del’s voice sounded clearly in my mind. The next minute the floodgates opened and I saw Sully’s console’s data and I saw Del’s and I saw my own, and I felt something distant and very powerful coming closer. The
Kyi
gate. The viewscreen showed only the starfield and growing points of light that were the cruisers. But overlaying that in my mind was a bright abyss, dead center. It looked like no gate I’d ever seen.

I was lost for a moment without beacon data. The gate had no real-time coordinates. Then I realized that wasn’t the issue. I
felt
the gate. I
felt
the ship. It was simply a matter of drawing those two feelings into the same line.

Gabriel, she’s a natural! I knew it!
Del was chuckling.

Nothing from Sully, then:
She’s always been my best interfering bitch. Born to be at a stellar helm.
But there was an odd timbre to his voice. I didn’t know—

The gate pulled me again. We were slightly off course. Then I felt the
Karn
reposition from a slight nudge from the thrusters. Okay, that was better. Gate, there. Us, here. Nasty-assed cruiser bearing down hard just off our starboard side, at about the one o’clock position. The
Ilario Masling
. Damn them for killing Bennton! He had a wife and daughter. Now I’d not even be able to pay respects at his funeral.

If Tage even granted him one.

The rumble of the ion cannons sounded. We were close enough to use them, but that also meant those birds Olefar was throwing at us were coming more quickly. Less time to take them out and force the
Masling
off course.

But we could—

“The pinnace. Philip.” I jerked toward him. “No, keep your eyes on the screens. Just listen to me. Could she still respond to a remote autodestruct?” The
Meritorious
had.

I felt a startled question from Del. Interest from Sully.

“She can and she will, Chaz,” Philip said.

“Fourteen minutes,” Del announced, but I knew that already.

I turned to the other side of the bridge. “Verno, I need an emergency jettison in the shuttle bay. Eject the shuttle. It’ll take the pinnace with it.”

“It’s only money,” I heard Sully intone through gritted teeth.

Marsh snorted.

“On your command, Captain Chasidah,” Verno said.

“Philip, can you open a link with the pinnace from here?”

He was already tapping on his screens. “It’s hot. On your command, Captain Bergren.” He shot me a quick grin.

“Marsh, we’re going to need aft—”

“Aft shields at 70 percent and rising, Captain.”

I checked position of the
Masling,
the gate. It would be tight, very tight and I had no idea what the explosion behind us would do to gate entry. I guessed we were about to find out. I just needed it to create a screen when we were most vulnerable.” Dump her, Verno, now!”

Shuttle bay warning sirens wailed once then fell silent, but lights continued to flash. The
Karn
acted as if there was a fire in her bay or poison in her gut. She evicted everything, spewing pinnace, shuttle, and whatever else hadn’t been locked down out into the blackness behind us.

“
Loviti II.
Guthrie, Philip. AuthCode 391105-CR.”

I heard Philip continue reciting the codes to initiate the autodestruct sequence, watched the
Masling
and the
Day
coming closer,
felt
the gate,
felt
the
Karn, was
Del and Sully working energies that flowed through them as it flowed through me. I had Del’s knowledge of the gate and Sully’s knowledge of the
Karn,
but I had my experience as pilot, as captain.

“Switching to hypers,” Marsh announced as the pinnace exploded, sending a tremor through the
Karn.
Chunks of metal shot out into the big wide darkness with nothing to stop them until they reached the cruisers, hurling the
Karn
’s smaller shuttle along with them.

Some pinged the
Karn
’s shields but we were moving away from it, not toward it like the
Masling
and the
Day.
Their shields would deflect most of the chaff but they’d be busy—and blinded—for the next few moments. And their torpedoes, if they were foolish enough to fire, would be confused by the scatter field.

“Five minutes to hard edge,” Del said.

That was more time than I liked, but it would have to do. I flattened vanes, scanner dishes, verified data on mass, velocity, and inertia as if this were a normal gate transit. But it wasn’t.

A silvery haze drifted through the bridge, small sparkles running down Del’s and Sully’s shoulders. Marsh stared at his console but Philip had turned, his gaze shifting from Sully to Del then to me.

We’ll make it,
Del said.
This is good. Beautiful.

Then it was there, real, the white abyss I’d only seen in my mind flashing open before us. I heard Philip swear softly—in amazement, not anger. Even Marsh’s “damn” held a tone of reverence.

And we slipped through the
Kyi
gate and into the neverwhen with all the sweetness of a lover’s kiss.

“I’m sorry about your father, your brother.” Philip cupped his hands around the steaming mug of tea in front of him on the ready room table and looked at Marsh and Dorsie sitting on his left, their backs to the bridge. “Fleet and the Admirals’ Council were unequivocally not behind what happened on Umoran. In spite of the evidence being thrown about.”

We were almost an hour past gate entrance. Ren and Verno were on duty, which was minimal in jump. The rest of us were here in the ready room, door to the bridge open. No one was off shift. No one wanted to miss what Philip had to say. He had been talking almost nonstop for most of that time.

“But that was, for Prew, evidently the defining moment. Though it had been building, with Tage and his people continually feeding the emperor select bits of information, making him believe Sheldon Blaine was only a hair’s breadth away from claiming the throne. Every time a Farosian ship eluded us, it was because we let it. It didn’t help, of course, that Nayla Dalby took the high-security access codes with her when she left. By the time we realized she had them, changing them did little good, although we continued to do so. We’d lock her out for three weeks, maybe two months.” Philip shrugged. “Then she’s back in and she knows ship deployment, position, crew assignments. We can’t stop her.”

A look was exchanged between Sully, in his usual seat on my left, and Del, on my right. Philip was at the other end of the table, to my left.

I know how to deal with her,
I heard Del tell Sully. A feeling of self-satisfaction went along with it…and something else. I was trying to figure out just what it was when Del made his offer out loud.

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Philip said. “But I want you to understand,” he continued, “that this has been going on for several years. Since before Nalby turned traitor. The Council had been able to keep Prew’s paranoia to a minimum. We
thought
Tage was helping, was on our side. We found out after Marker,” he said with a nod to Sully, “that we were wrong.

“So what it comes down to is that Tage convinced Prew that the Admirals’ Council is in bed with the Farosians. Every recommendation we made for more representation from and involvement with the rim worlds, Tage twisted into our ‘increasing cooperation with Blaine’s Justice Wardens.’” Philip snorted.

“He might not be far off,” Sully said, leaning back in his chair, absently toying with the lightpen in front of him. “We had a run-in with Dalby over a week ago. She wanted Chasidah to act as their emissary to Fleet.”

Philip arched one eyebrow.

“We turned her down. Now, I’m wishing I’d tried for a little more information. Her timing is a bit too suspicious.”

“I wouldn’t doubt the woman has her sources in Tage’s offices as well as ours. She was brilliant, but cold and cutthroat. While you might think those are attributes Fleet would value, it kept her from rising farther in the ranks.”

But cold and cutthroat fit in very well with Blaine’s Justice Wardens.

Philip took a sip of his tea. I could see a slight slump to his shoulders, shadows under his eyes. It wasn’t hugely apparent, but I knew he’d been through a lot since he was ambushed by Tage’s people at the purported admirals’ meeting at Raft Thirty at the A-B. Plus, I’d been married to him for almost eight years. I could read him, no mind-link required.

“Unless there’s anything else hugely critical, I think you should go to your cabin, rest for a couple hours,” I said to him. “We can fill in the gaps later.” Though I was sure we all were rapidly seeing the picture. A power-hungry politician taking advantage of a weak and emotionally disturbed ruler, feeding the man’s fears, alienating him from anyone Tage deemed to be a threat to his own ambitions. Countering criticism—and questions—with claims of a vast conspiracy by whoever it was who opposed him at the moment. Gutting the military so no one would be there to stop him when he made his final move. Sadly, it was not something unique in human history.

Philip put his tea down, his expression suddenly more weary. I saw his gaze flick from Sully to Del then to me. He stood. “If you all don’t mind, I’d like to speak to Chasidah, privately.”

Marsh pushed away from the table. Then Philip raised one hand. “On second thought, Sullivan, you’d better stay.”

Slowly, Sully nodded. He was reading Philip. And not telling me.

Something cold plunged through me, not from Sully, not from Del. It was my own fear.

“You want something hot to eat later, Admiral Guthrie, you just let me know,” Dorsie said, following Marsh out to the bridge. Del was steps behind. He hit the palm pad for the door, leaving an oddly gentle touch of warmth in his wake.

“Philip?” I turned to him as the door closed, the tightness in my chest threatening to choke me.

He moved behind Sully’s chair then sat in the empty one on my right. I swiveled to face him. Sully’s hand rested on my shoulder, firmly, reassuringly. Warmth pulsed again. But the ice inside me didn’t budge.

Philip pulled my hands off the table and held them tightly in his own.

“I’m sorry, nugget. There’s no easy way to say this. Thad’s dead.”

I heard the words: Thad’s dead. I knew their meaning. I’d faced death before. I’d even been the cause of it. And I knew, deep in my heart, that once Tage got his claws into my brother, chances were very good that association could be fatal.

I just didn’t expect it now.

Tage had just tried to kill Philip. Why did he need my brother dead too?

I realized I was staring at Philip’s hands wrapped around mine. They were bruised, scraped, spotted with dried blood. But they were strong hands. Thick-fingered, not lean like Sully’s. They had old scars. They could hold the stem of the most delicate crystal wineglass with ease. They could also tear open a crate of ammo, load and fire a Val-9 Punisher hand-cannon in the time it took most people to exhale.

We’d done both, Philip and I.

I raised my face. “Are you sure?” My voice wavered.

He squeezed my hands and sighed softly, the lines between his brows deepening. “Suzanne, your stepmother, claimed his body. Lars is sedated. She said they’ll pull through, somehow.”

“But you said Lars told him to cooperate. He must have. I read the news reports detailing everything he knew about Sully. What he saw him do. What happened?”

“The official report is suicide.”

I jerked slightly. Not that. Not Thad. “He’d never—”

“That’s the official report,” he repeated. “My sources tell a different story.” His gaze went over my shoulder then dropped back to me.

I knew. “
Zragkor
. He died during a
zragkor,
didn’t he?”