Outriders Read online

  “An adequate enough explanation. Don’t play the aggrieved idealist; the role doesn’t suit you. Governments on independent and Confederacy worlds handle internal matters in this way all the time. We silence dissidents, we conduct surveillance and ensure certain undesirables suffer from accidents, we stifle dangerous rhetoric and control the narrative through manipulation of the media. Our mandate is to protect our citizens by whatever means necessary. If limiting their rights keeps civilians safe, we’ll gladly make the concession.”

  “I can imagine most governments have justified their actions with the same tired argument for millennia. We trample your rights for your own benefits. No need to thank us, we’re just oppressing in the same manner any wise and reasonable regime would.”

  “Is that why you spend your days flying between worlds, never calling one home? Is this where your disregard for authority comes from, causing you to reject everything except the next job?”

  “I was born in Midgard on Vanir, in the Heliades. I don’t need to tell you what life in the central Confederacy system was like. We’re commodities to be registered, validated and monitored, not people. I never wanted to be an asset on some official’s ledger.”

  “Every person living in the Astraea Cluster is someone’s asset.”

  “Tell me something, Major. How long do you imagine our little arrangement might last?”

  “Until it stops serving my interests. You’re valued members of Elathan Intelligence unless I say otherwise.”

  “You think this illegal conscription will function long enough to satisfy whatever secretive agenda you’re hoping to tick off your list?”

  Harun rested his head on the wall behind him, a man completely at ease despite earning threats from an unhappy crew. “Depends on you and this crew. You planning a mutiny?”

  “Not something I could arrange even if I had the energy. By definition a mutiny is when dissatisfied crew rebel against the rightful captain. That’s me, chum. And I don’t intend to lead a revolt against myself. Partly because I have a crippling fear of criticism.”

  “Mutinies are also perpetrated against governments and planets. Right now you’re serving us. So I ask again: do you plan to make this difficult?”

  “If I was, I’m too late. You’ve already made this more difficult all on your lonesome than I believed possible. As a fellow who adores a convoluted scheme, I’m impressed with your work. As the captain of this particular freighter, I admire you much less.”

  “I assume that comes as close to a promise for compliant behavior as I’m likely to hear from you.”

  Taylor offered a noncommittal shrug. “I won’t burst your bubble if it pleases you to think that.”

  “I’m more worried about your crew. I’m no fool. I notice how they look at us, living on the edge of restraint with a murderous gleam in their eyes. Moyaert is not a woman I’m comfortable turning my back on. I have no desire to earn a bullet in my spine. Is she planning murder?”

  “If she was, do you honestly believe I’d tell you?”

  “I suppose not.”

  “Seems to me that passing on a warning you’re about to be shot in the back defeats the whole purpose.”

  “Still, I’d like to think of you as a man honorable enough to only attack a foe from the front.”

  “Then you’ve already made a fatal error, which doesn’t do much for the already low esteem I have for your inability to read strangers. I’ll gladly shoot someone in the back if he’s foolish enough to give me an opening. Done it plenty times before. Or I’ll ask Kyla to, or dump him out the airlock. Honor gets you killed, and I suspect you already know that. Being a spy and all that. But here you are, expecting us fringe types to be noble.”

  “This conversation has done little to give me reassurances.”

  “If you want to sleep easier then you shouldn’t have stolen our ship.” Taylor leaned backward and let one hand blatantly hover above his handgun. “But a fella who makes his living spying on people shouldn’t be this dense. I can’t shake the feeling something else is at play here. So what’s to stop me from putting a bullet through your forehead right now?”

  “My insurance policy. This wasn’t when I planned to place all my cards on the table, but it’ll have to do. While your crew was restrained by Specialist Dirksen’s team of operatives, a small demolitions squad visited the Solar Flare’s engines and primed a nasty surprise for you. Dirksen and I have the command keys on our persons, and if we don’t deactivate it every hour, that bomb will explode. The detonation will be enough to destroy your engines completely, and might even penetrate your propulsion core. I’m certain a seasoned traveler such as yourself knows the danger of a ruptured core. I hear they’ve been known to disintegrate entire starships.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “I might be. Care to risk the lives of your crew on that hunch, Captain? You’d have less than an hour to strap on spacesuits and investigate the freighter’s hull to see if there’s truth to my words or not. The question is whether you believe I’m willing to endanger my own life by bluffing, or if I’m prepared to sacrifice seven innocent lives to ensure their compliance.”

  “I don’t believe for a minute that you wouldn’t kill innocents to achieve your objectives.”

  “Then assuming I’m bluffing is not in your best interest. Your obedience is.”

  “I’m tempted to shoot you in this quiet corridor anyway. Seeing that smug expression twist into agony as you breathe for the final time would almost be worthwhile.”

  “I hardly imagined my life would be dependent on a felon’s self-restraint, and yet here we are.” Harun straightened and held himself like a poised officer who knew how to command. “The fact is I’m not calling the shots. I’m following orders from my superiors, in the same way you’re now following mine. Using your freighter for our purposes was not my strategy, but I’m doing what’s expected of me. I’m asking you to do the same. Work with me rather than actively trying to sabotage my efforts. This partnership, one that neither of us wanted, will not last forever. I only need your cooperation for a short time. After that you never need to see me again. Fly to a distant system and curse my memory if you want, but not before we complete our mission.”

  “Your mission, Major. I might toe the line, I might even collaborate, but never forget I didn’t do so willingly.”

  “You don’t need to like me. You don’t even need to respect me. But don’t question my desire to protect the people of Elatha.” Harun raised an open hand and softened his features. “We’re in this together, Captain. Can we put aside our differences for the sake of peace?”

  Taylor eyed the outstretched palm and turned aside without clasping Harun’s hand. “I’ll do it for the sake of my crew, but no one else.”

  *

  Folding arms over his chest, Taylor paced the freighter’s lounge with a rhythmic clunking of boots on flooring. The Solar Flare floated near a tumbling dwarf planet at the edge of a star system so trivial and inconsequential, so unworthy of even mentioning, that its name was a numerical string of seventeen digits. No government claimed this system, no travelers wanted to experience its features, and no trade routes passed through its territory. They were well and truly alone.

  All crewmembers and unwanted tagalongs gathered around tables and furniture in the freighter’s primary meeting place. Alexis had done much to spruce up the common areas into something resembling more a home than ship, and nothing attracted her focus more than the lounge. Her first payment as a crewmember had gone to purchasing reproduction paintings in a tiny art shop on Brynhild. The decision certainly brought warmth to the room, though colorful artwork of landscapes felt hollow today. Harun sat beneath a bizarre geometric abstract painting that Alexis claimed represented harmony and differing values or some such absurdity. Taylor had no love or understanding for art, but he knew enough to recognize a cruel jest.

  Clara sat cross-legged on one chair with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and a steaming mu
g of coffee held tightly between her hands. Dressed in the dirtied, sweat-stained fatigues she wore under her flight suit, the starfighter pilot appeared distant and showed no desire to converse with others. Kyla pronounced her medically sound an hour earlier, and linking to Clara’s helmet proved all her claims. She was not a duplicitous or cunning infiltrator, but a pilot who lost far too much. When Harun broke the news that Delbaeth launched an invasion against their home, she retreated still further into herself. The intelligence operatives earned his distrust, but Clara deserved his sympathy.

  Taylor finished his pacing and hunched forward over a table, placing his palms on its surface. A grimy surface as he soon discovered. Connor was the last one on cleaning duty in here, and their slacker of a pilot merited a lecture. But that was for later, after the more pressing task at hand.

  “I figure it’s time for our guests to start talking,” Taylor announced. “I won’t fumble around in the dark according to the whims of a distant government, and I won’t order my crew to either. If you want passage on this freighter, you need to explain what we’re doing, and where that’ll take us.”

  “A fair enough request,” answered Harun. “The Elathan Security and Intelligence Service has reason to believe the Authority of Confederate Systems is inciting this war.”

  “I’m no military expert,” Kyla muttered. “But I’m awfully certain those were Delbaethi warships trying to kill us.”

  “Astounding deduction,” snorted Tessa. “Are you certain you have no intelligence training?”

  Harun lifted a calming hand. “Delbaeth is launching a full-scale planetary invasion against us. But under whose direction? Who influenced their normally rational government to declare war? What convinced them to withdraw from negotiations and commit their navy to a costly operation?”

  Reyes chomped on an apple and spoke through puffed cheeks. “You think the Confederacy is controlling their leaders?”

  “Not so overtly. But persuasion and manipulation can be insidious. Events don’t even need to be momentous to cause a reaction. Three months ago an Elathan named Sunil Sidana was murdered while speaking out against Delbaeth’s decision to expand its naval fleets. We found no evidence a Delbaethi operative was involved in the assassination. None. No trace or hints suggesting the Delbaeth government had a role. But in retaliation Elathan citizens attacked the Delbaethi embassy in Formorii. Many were killed in the confusion. That led to vandalism and violence against Elathan civilians living on Delbaeth, which in turn caused our citizens to lash out at Delbaethi immigrants in their neighborhoods. All sparked by one killing that Delbaeth may not have committed.”

  “You’re suggesting Delbaeth invaded your planet because a few expats were mistreated?” Rinko questioned. She shared a chair with Alexis, one arm draped around the other woman’s shoulder. “That would make Delbaeth the most overprotective and concerned government I’ve ever heard about.”

  “What I’m suggesting is the influence of another agency,” Harun responded. “Following the assassination of Sunil Sidana, our communication technicians intercepted transmissions reporting an explosion at a Delbaethi orbital shipyard in the Toraigh system. By all accounts the accident crippled a half-finished Cormoran dreadnought and severely damaged several battlecruisers, not to mention the loss of personnel. What if their investigation linked the sabotage to Elathan agents? We didn’t commit this act, but if the evidence was fabricated to implicate us, it would’ve push their leadership closer to declaring war. And what if there were other incidents orchestrated to make us responsible? We don’t know everything that happens in star systems claimed by Delbaeth, no matter how many resources we devote to surveillance. Every accident they endure could be designed to incriminate our agencies.”

  Evan sipped from his own coffee and fiddled with the mug’s handle. “Have you tried reassuring their government of your innocence?”

  “We’ve held high-level negotiations with Delbaeth several times in the previous months. They believe us to be untrustworthy and aggressive. Hard to refute, since one of our starfighter squadrons caused a diplomatic incident earlier this year by firing on a Delbaethi supertanker that refused to declare its cargo. Our credibility suffered a considerable loss, despite trade concessions and demoting the squadron leader responsible. There are also influential elements in their government who want conflict against us, matched by warmongers on our own planet. Ending the war is not quite so simple.”

  “Here’s a pertinent query,” Rinko said. “Why is the Confederacy doing this? What are they hoping to gain by pitting two independent worlds against each other?”

  Harun sighed and ran one hand through close cropped hair. “We don’t know. The Confederacy’s own founding charter forbids them from taking over a planet unless both the government and populace vote in favor of membership. Weakening our navies doesn’t achieve anything if we still decline to join their organization.”

  “At least you’re honest when you don’t know shit. I always thought you intelligence folks would be more condescending and arrogant.”

  “It’s our pleasure to break stereotypes.”

  “None of this explains why you commandeered our freighter,” Taylor interjected. “If you believe the Confederacy or another agency benefits from pitting two stubborn worlds against one another, take the complaint to Parliament or petition Delbaeth for a ceasefire.”

  “We can’t do either without evidence. Delbaeth won’t consider even a temporary withdrawal without a smoking gun, not when they’re the ones holding a position of strength, and what would addressing the Confederacy Parliament accomplish if their own members are complicit? Fortunately for everyone involved, we might have proof. A freelance operative sent an encrypted transmission to SIS Command, claiming to possess evidence that the Confederacy was orchestrating war in the Tuatha system. Specialist Dirksen and I were chosen to make contact with this individual at a site of his choosing. Delbaeth invaded before we could do so, making our mission all the more imperative.”

  Kyla uttered an irritated harrumph and glowered at Harun. “A damn mercenary? You’re putting your faith in a man who’ll sell information to the highest bidder?”

  Harun offered a noncommittal shrug. “His methods mean nothing so long as he delivers on the promise.”

  “What are his credentials?” Rinko inquired.

  “Unknown. We don’t even have his real identity. Whoever he is, the man is acting cagey and already changed the meeting location and date twice. We’ve had a difficult time forcing him to commit to one place and time. Now that he finally has, we can’t take the chance he’ll disappear or pass the information to anyone else.”

  Evan nudged his head at Reyes, who slid him more sugar across the table for his coffee. “Can you even make the rendezvous? We’ve already been delayed by traveling to Tethra and now here.”

  “We still have enough time, yes. Specialist Dirksen and I planned to arrive several days early, in order to reconnoiter the location and gauge his reliability.”

  Evan sprinkled sugar into his drink and cheerfully stirred. “You’re anticipating an ambush?”

  “Not in the least,” Harun said, “though it would be the height of negligence not to prepare for one. Since I’m no longer confident we can arrive beforehand, we’ll be assuming an unknown level of risk. But the potential benefit makes that acceptable.”

  Kyla hefted her firearm onto the table alongside rags and started disassembling the weapon for its daily cleaning regimen. “Where’d you arrange to meet with the squirmy freelancer? It damn well better not be another warzone, or I might just broadcast our ship is carrying Elathan spooks and that we’re willing to make a trade.”

  “It won’t be. Delbaeth has no foothold where we’re heading, and they can’t hope to ever gain one.”

  Kyla scrubbed a barrel shroud speckled in grime. “Confederacy space.”

  Harun nodded. “In the Balor system on Milesian Station. I trust you’re familiar with that place.”

  �
�Intimately,” responded Taylor.

  “Good, because I’ve never traveled there. Your knowledge may prove beneficial.”

  “Where did your contact agree to meet?”

  “Near Feriae Café in the Nexus Emporium on Level 41.”

  “I know it,” Taylor declared, imagining the rotunda and its myriad features. “Open area, plenty of shops, gardens and fountains, with balconies overlooking levels above and below. And far too many places to watch.”

  “We have little choice at this point. If we miss our opportunity, or if the information broker becomes spooked again and disappears, the result could be a war between Elatha and Delbaeth lasting years.”

  “And if he doesn’t actually have any evidence the Confederacy is involved?”

  Harun held his stoic composure, though his mouth seemed to tighten. “We’ll face that uncomfortable truth if we need to.”

  “Optimism, huh?” asked Taylor. “I suppose that’d be my emotion of choice if I cared about the outcome as much as you do.”

  “You should,” Tessa countered. “These are peoples’ lives you’re so cavalier about.”

  “Lives are always on the line. And don’t think I haven’t noticed you only ever seem to concern yourselves with the lives of Elathan citizens. What about the good people of Delbaeth? If their leaders are being manipulated as you believe, shouldn’t we care about them as well?”

  Tessa lifted snarling lips and bared her teeth, though chose to remain silent in the face of his accusation.

  “I thought not. Don’t preach to me about compassion when you’re willing to deny the sentiment to others.” Taylor looped both thumbs through his belt and sauntered toward a pillar Alexis had wrapped in small lights. “We can reach the Balor system in eight days.”

  “That will be enough time,” affirmed Harun.

  “As regards the chain of command, once we enter the system you’ll be taking orders from Kyla.”

  “Not that I doubt her qualifications, but why not you?”