“I don’t need a protector. We’ve done nothing to warrant surveillance outside standard random room bugging. You were never this paranoid back at command when we had reason to fear discovery. What’s transported in the last five days? Why haven’t you contacted me?”
“I was arranging for a communications transmission. The Mokarran are barely handling the riots. Security systems will fail, giving us our chance to send our discovery to Captain Kantian.”
“He’s been promoted to Admiral” Nytalyan prevents any more of Saltāl’s deflection. “You were going to use Svetlana?”
“I’ve spent a few days with the growing insurgents. With their help we have no reason to compromise others in command or risk your life.”
Nytalyan’s bulbous yellow eyes blink, unable to place why her friend no longer operates like the man who assisted her in uncovering the Mokarran religious crusade.
He protected her, but now his manner lacks the comfort he shared for her as she lost the eggs inside her womb. Five days apart doesn’t protect either of them and only hinders their progress in revealing the Mokarran’s true vision for the universe.
“Saltāl, we need fully committed assets to our cause if we are to halt shipyard production completely. The death of Micah Donkor at the hands of the assassin—”
“Donkor was a noted sympathizer to the Tri-Star Federation.” Nytalyan’s interruption steams the unnamed alien.
“Like you two, he worked within the system to defeat them. Donkor was undermining the Mokarran at every turn. He used his political influence to stall needed deliveries of ore to the shipyards. He backed up production. Those two new battle cruisers should have been completed six months ago—not a year from now,” the unnamed alien explains.
“Then the assassin’s bullet was misguided,” Nytalyan ponders.
“Mokarran sympathizers are everywhere. Donkor’s death allowed them to assume control of the planet without a full-scale invasion,” Saltāl says.
“The insurgents—”
“Dealing with limited resistance is not the same as invading a planet. Too many people here view the Mokarran as saviors. Under their rule the number going hungry has diminished.”
Nytalyan adds, “The shipyards provide jobs.”
“I’ve seen the starving younglings,” Saltāl says.
“There are no census numbers on the children, but I’ve noticed a decrease in the number of homeless since the Mokarran arrival,” Nytalyan says.
“You and I both know what they do with undesirables,” Saltāl says.
The room rattles from an explosion.
Saltāl races to the window. “They targeted something across the street.” Soot collects around the metallic frame, smudging the glass. “Flames burn the main gate.”
“Mokarran were the targets,” the alien says without glancing out the window.
Nytalyan has no trust for him. “They will initiate Martial Law. We won’t be able to complete our task,” Nytalyan says.
“Martial Law will bring about more insurgent attacks,” the unnamed alien warns. “Saltāl, we must go before they lock down this complex.”
“We need to explain Micah Donkor.”
Confirmation of Micah Donkor’s betrayal of the Mokarran explains much of what Nytalyan’s seen in the past days. They needed such a man to ally themselves with. He was succeeding at what they could not. Now she understands why the Mokarran refuse to parade even a fabricated assassin before the rioters. In their limited scope, the Mokarran refuse to honor a traitor, even if it means regaining control of the planet.
A SHUTTLE SLIPS through the blue haze of a magnetic force field, preventing the artificial atmosphere from escaping the Independence landing bay.
Admiral Maxtin, at parade rest, views the landing from an upper mezzanine.
Lt. Commander Gibson operates a control panel. “I’ve programmed all security doors from your personal landing bay to the private security areas. I’m being presumptuous, but don’t you think someone in admiralty may realize you have built such amenities into the battle cruiser?”
“Once completed, the Independence will function as the flagship of the inner dimension. Our first line of defense if the Mokarran were to breach the Riftgate. Many visiting dignitaries and security meetings will be held under the tightest of security on this ship.”
“Your crew has been personally selected by you. Why this level of privacy?”
“All humanoids have a price. Even the most loyal are reachable,” Maxtin says.
“I’m not for sale.”
“You wish the UCP to be victorious over the Mokarran. When the offer to witness such success is made, we’ll see what price you will pay,” Maxtin says.
“Are you speaking of betrayal as Ki-Ton—”
“No. Ki-Ton’s treachery was for his own personal reasons. Patience was his ally, and he used it to gain revenge. I never considered he had deeper motivations for an Osirian who had yet to wake from a thousand-year cryosleep,” Maxtin says.
Vents release atmosphere as the shuttle side cracks and a hatch raises.
“Halcary?” Gibson fails to hold in her stupefaction.
The brown-armored warriors escort a lizard alien scared from years of laborious servitude.
“Expensive and the most effective bounty hunters,” Maxtin says.
“They hold consignments on many of your operatives,” Gibson adds.
“None of which are currently on the Independence. I’m not in league with such nefarious scoundrels—officially.” Maxtin remains at parade rest, gazing into the starless abyss found inside the Riftgate.
Gibson hands the Halcary a hard shell case. “Your fee.”
••••••
GIBSON PULLS AT the straps securing the alien’s hand to the arm of the metal chair. She scans the DNA bar implanted in the back of lizard creature’s left hand. She checks the secured clamps keeping Malquaz in the dentist-style chair. Once satisfied he cannot escape, Gibson brings a bucket and squats over a drain in the slightly beveled floor. She pours clear liquid into the hole.
“It seems they were able to clear out the blockage from the last time.” She remains focused on the swirling water as it disappears.
Maxtin steps into the peripheral vision of Malquaz. “I don’t think it was blocked. Thundarian just bleed too fast.”
“Who knew Thundarians hemorrhage.” She speaks as if Malquaz is not in the room. “I was hoping he’d have lasted longer. I’d heard they endure great pain.” She places a stainless steel tray into a groove, allowing it
