The Shattered Empire (The Shadow Space Chronicles Book 2) (32 page)

“No,” Alanis snapped.  “Not
our
child,
my
child.”  She brought her datapad out from her lap.  “I typed up an initial report of the hacking of my implant but I hadn't sent it yet.  I also made a recording of this conversation.  I just sent both to the local branch of the Faraday Investigation Bureau.  Along with a notification that I am currently in a domestic dispute with my ex-husband.  Oh, that's right, Faraday's contract law is very efficient, I also submitted the paperwork for our divorce and received approval already.”

Reese felt his heart stop.  He wanted to open his mouth, to protest, yet he didn't know what to say anymore.  She continued speaking in a low, angry voice, “I looked it up, hacking any medical implant is a felony, with a minimal sentence of ten years and a maximum penalty of fifty years.  Doing so with the purpose of blackmail or extortion carries additional time, up to fifty years at the judge's discretion.  I think a decent prosecutor could make a case for that, how about you?”  Alanis's dark eyes bored into him.  “But because of what we once shared... I'm giving you fair warning.” She looked down at her datapad, “It informs me that the police will arrive in the next ten minutes.  I suppose that if you don't want to spend ten to a hundred years in prison, you should probably leave.”

“Alanis...” Reese hated the whine in his voice.  Yet she had just destroyed his life.  He'd have to flee Faraday for certain, especially with who her brother was.  A warrant for a felony, even from a backwater colony, would show up on any kind of background check.  He'd have to change his identity if he wanted to get any kind of decent job somewhere else.  For that matter, when Lucius found out...

“Eight minutes, now,” Alanis said, her voice cold.  “Better get running Reese.”

For just a moment, a wave of rage washed over him.  Reese took an angry step forward and growled, “You showed me no restraint, why shouldn't I do the same?  Eight minutes is long enough...”

She pulled a compact pistol from under the counter before he could even finish.  “The arrest
was
me showing restraint, Reese.  You don't want to know how close a decision it was between me squeezing this trigger instead of hitting send.  But I thought it would be better for my child not to have to know I killed its father.”  She glanced at her datapad and looked up again and her eyes were empty and dead of emotion as she stared at him.  “Clock's ticking... seven minutes, Reese.”

***

Halcyon Colony

Garris Major System

September 26, 2403

Somewhat unsurprisingly, Stavros Heraklion had the most impressive appearance of the assembled privateer captains.  With his bright silver pants and the open gold vest, with chest bared, it was hardly astonishing that was so.  Even then, though, there were some who could almost give him a run for his money.  Mason maintained his outward relaxation even as he ignored the smirks and leers of various captains. 
Half this lot are so new at this they don't really deserve the name privateer,
he thought,
the other half are serious hard cases who even I wouldn't have recruited in my worst times.

He really had a feeling that something wasn't quite right with the situation.  On the one hand, there was the professional behavior from Counselor Penwaithe and on the other there was... this.

This was an assemblage of thirty privateer captains for a gathering.  Most of the newer ones didn't seem to know exactly what to do, while some of the others seemed bound and determined to posture and establish dominance. 
Speaking of which,
Mason thought wryly as a short, thin man, with slicked back, black hair walked up to him.  “You're Stavros, eh?”  His voice was light and cultured.  He looked, Mason thought suddenly, much like Baron Giovanni if someone were to attempt a spineless caricature of him. 

Mason gave him a courtly bow, “Captain Stavros Heraklion.  I see my reputation has proceeded me.”  He looked the other man over, “And you are?”

He leered with a superior expression, “Captain
Damien Walters.  And before this is all over, you'll remember that name.”  His high voice had the slightest affection of a lisp.

“Well, my friend,” Mason said in a kindly tone, “I'll try to do that, but I'm afraid I'm not very good with names.  Who did you say you were again?”  That this specimen managed to be a captain around here did not bode well for the planet.

The privateer Captain walked a circle around Mason, “You must have the absolute worst taste in clothing.  You do know that those leather pants are absolutely ghastly, don't you?”

Mason gave him a leer of his own, “The ladies seem to love them... or taking them off anyway.”

“You think–”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” a high, clear voice spoke from the far end of the room.  “Thank you for your patience.”  Mason felt some of his tension ease as he recognized the voice.  Evidently, the reason for this gathering was politics.

“All of you are signed on as privateers with Halcyon,” Admiral Lucretta Mannetti said, her voice dripping with sincerity.  “Which I'm sure provides you with a feeling of righteousness.  However, before you get too carried away, I'd like to explain some of the basic rules.”

“Why would we listen to you?” One of the other privateers interrupted.  The big man strode forward and the other captains parted around him.  “Just a bitty little woman in a low cut uniform.”

“Captain Archambault, I'm speaking for all of us, here.  And I marshal far more forces than your pathetic little destroyer, so when I speak, you should chose to listen,” Admiral Mannetti said. 

Mason walked close up behind the man as she spoke, in part to get a better view and in part because he saw something of an opportunity.

Captain Archambault grimaced, “Listen, bitch–”

Before the pirate could finish, Mason kicked out the back of his knees and pulled one of his concealed knives and had it to Archambault's throat.  “Sorry, for the interruption, my Lady, I think you were going to explain the rules to us?”

The short, dark haired woman gave him a smile, “Indeed.”  Mason could tell she had a pistol her hand, concealed behind her body by the tenseness of her frame and the set of her shoulder.  She tucked it back behind her in a motion Mason almost didn't catch and then gestured at Mason and his captive.  “First off, there is no violence between Captains here.  Captain Stavros, I think your patrons will overlook that right now due to the circumstances, but you should let Captain Archambault go.  I'm sure he's learned his lesson.  We're all in the same alliance.  You lot work directly for Halcyon while I work with them as their ally.”  As Mason let his captive go, Admiral Mannetti pointed behind her at a figure near the door, “Much like Admiral Collae, here.”

Mason felt his blood go cold.  He flicked a glance at the rogue officer, but the other man's dark eyes seemed to see nothing more than his absurd costume. 
And it's best I don't stand out too much when I'm around him,
Mason thought,
to give him reason to look past that.

“Now, the other rules are simple,” Admiral Mannetti said.  “Most of them are about what you can and can't take and being fair and even with the loot we do take.  Share and share alike, gentlemen.”  The warmth in her voice leached away with her next words, “However, some rules are more important than others.  Myself and Admiral Collae provide coordinates, convoy information, and will direct your attacks.  In particular, if you cross us, if you disobey our orders in battle, we will not hesitate to put you down and make an example of you.”

On that cue, Captain Damien Walter swept past Mason and stood before the hulking Captain Archambault.  “You have insulted the honor of Lady Kail.  I challenge you to a duel.”

The big man grinned down at the diminutive Captain Walters, “I'll break you like a toy.”  He took a step forward and Damien took several steps back.

“Well, I'm glad you accepted his challenge,” Admiral Mannetti said as she walked up and put a possessive hand on Damien's shoulder.  Looking between the two, Mason didn't doubt that they had planned for this.  From the nervous look on the small man's face, he wasn't as sure of the outcome as he'd like, however.

Captain Archambault gave a sneer and his hand went for his holstered gun.  Captain Walters was faster, though Mason recognized the sure signs of someone with cybernetic augmentation with his jerky, mechanical draw. 
He's fast, but poor control,
Mason thought.  At the short range of three meters, he didn't need to be a marksman.  The shot rang out and Captain Archambault toppled to the ground.

“While fighting in the ranks is not permitted, of course, dueling is,” Admiral Mannetti said, her voice sultry, even as she swept her hand down Damien Walter's arm like she were stroking a pet.  Given his similarity to Baron Giovanni, that said some interesting things about her psyche, Mason realized..

A cold wind seemed to sweep through the chamber at her words and in the shadows near the door, Mason saw Admiral Collae give a grim smile. 
So,
Mason thought,
the purpose of this was to establish that they're the ones in charge, regardless of who handles the goods and payment.
  That made things look even nastier for the folks of Halcyon.

Still, Mason realized that he had inadvertently stumbled upon the pair's central operation.  With both of them present, something here on Halcyon was important enough that Admiral Collae was already maneuvering to betray Admiral Mannetti.  Now Mason just had to get to the bottom of it.

His eyes went to the corpse nearby. 
Well,
Mason thought,
get to the bottom of it and survive.

***

Faraday System

United Colonies

September 26, 2403

Tony frowned as he noticed a glitch in his home network.  That was... odd.  He wasn't the best programmer, but he could tell when something was wrong when his face was rubbed in it.  Right now, since he was trying to program a new simulation for the Baron's sister, the sudden grinding halt that hit the system told him something was wrong.

“Liz, you doing something on the network?” Tony asked.

She looked up from where she sat on the couch, “Just reading a book.”

“Well, the whole system just glitched and now...” he trailed off and then snorted in disgust, “Now it's down.  I just lost four hours of work!”

For a moment she looked puzzled as she pulled up the system diagnostics on her datapad.  Her eyes went cold a moment later, “We're under attack.”

Tony didn't respond, but he did reach down and pull the sidearm from under his chair.  Unlike Lucius, he practiced regularly.  Granted, he wasn't as good a shot as Lizmadie, but he hadn't had to shoot anyone when his life was on the line... she had.

Lizmadie already had her pistol out and aimed at the door.  They were in the study, which had only the one set of windows and the door deeper into the house.  “They cut our outside line,” Lizmadie said.

Doko bit his lip.  He had been under fire before, but now it felt different, with his wife's life on the line.  He gave her a nod and moved up to the door.  “We need to get to the safe room.”  That had been the reason they selected this house, even more so than the view, the neighborhood, or even the décor.  The house had a windowless room, brick, clearly designed to be a shelter of some kind.  Some work had turned it into a hidden safe room... along with a hard-line data connection so they could call for help. 
Liz has been kidnapped before,
Doko thought,
we thought it was a good investment then and this proves us right. 
The problem with being married to royalty was that occasionally someone realized that they might get rich, famous, or political favors by kidnapping them.

Doko slid the door open and popped his head out at waist level.  “Clear.”

They had rehearsed movement to the safe room.  Tony had his pistol aimed down the hall to the front door while his wife slipped out behind him and moved down the kitchen door.  She popped it open, “Clear,” she said.

Doko started to back down the hallway in a crouch.  He paused though, as he heard a creak of floorboards in the living room to his right.  His pistol trained on the door just as a man in black clothing came through the doorway.

Doko fired twice at his center of mass.  The man let out a shout, but he didn't fall. 
Crap
, Tony thought,
he's wearing body armor.
  For a moment, Tony froze, unsure whether he had just fired on a potential rescuer or an enemy.

The man brought his own pistol up and Tony saw the attached suppressor just as the barrel leveled on him. 
Well, that settles the friend or foe question,
he thought absently.

Lizmadie fired from behind him, her shot loud in the confined hall.  The man fell to the floor, completely limp, a round, gory hole where his left eye had been.  Blood and brains had splattered the landscape painting near the door.  “I swear, sometimes your military training is worse than useless,” Lizmadie growled as Tony hurried back down the hall.  In the living room he heard shouts and the sound of boots.