13. Falkion

A few clicks earlier…

Iwonder, as I pace the bridge, if merely hearing this plan is treason.

Arrisans aren't oversensitive like other races. We don't bother with a threat until it's stabbing us in the face. No need to waste energy on idle feelings.

But we are living in an era where more fragile races are in charge. During this period of upheaval, I don't know, truly, how this will play out after I report it.

Because I will absolutely have to report it.

"Lessers are incapable of handling a true emergency."

High Commander Drin's assistant lectures me from the main viewscreen. His other close, trusted personnel nod. The high commander himself sits in the center, silent, his gaze unwavering. I am under evaluation.

They're in the secure conference room of their bridge, but I have deliberately chosen to have them in the public bridge for all my officers to see.

"We will prove the unfitness of the Rationality Officer by causing an incident," his assistant says.

"Is this really necessary?" I pace relentlessly. "So long as an Arrisan is present to take over during a real emergency, there's little harm in placating them."

There's a long silence. My bridge officers fidget.

"You can't be serious," Drin's assistant says finally. "The longer we allow lessers to pretend they have power, the more they will dismantle our safeguards, weakening us when the Harsi finally arrive."

"Then the High Command should cancel Zeerah's position through proper channels."

"I appreciate your commitment to order, but too many already think as you do. They dismiss this as silly theater and don't realize placating the lessers is harmful."

"Then—"

"That's why the incident must be fatal."

I stop pacing. "What?"

"We must scare this Zeerah to death."

My blades shift beneath my skin.

I clench my fists to keep the silver from betraying my feelings. "Explain."

"When the empress sees her own appointee die of fear, then she will have to admit to failure."

"Most humans don't simply die of fear."

"Don't they? Then you must ensure her death another way."

I flex my hands. A new nightmare is unlocked.

"We can alter the environment," Kollok assures the conspirators. "She'll be dead by the end of the incident."

No one on my bridge contradicts him.

I thought Kollok was properly chastised when I embarrassed him in the engineering bay. I thought the rest of my crew was coming around to appreciate Zeerah. And I thought having this conversation in public, before all of them, would be the wake-up call they needed to stand against High Commander Drin's clear disloyalty.

Now, my distrust spreads outward like a webbing of fractured glass.

Zeerah's on the Harsi ship, and suddenly, I feel glad of it. I pinpoint her precise location using my implant. She was standing in the brain room. Oh, wait. Now she's returning to the dreadnought.

She tried to contact me once during this conference. My communications officer answered, but it seems it wasn't important. Something about scheduling.

I've received a few hails from science officers since then. Petty complaints, probably. Ukuri usually fields them for me, but not always.

Nothing is worth interrupting this dangerous conference.

But I suddenly have a burning need to see Zeerah. Touch her.

Confirm she's still alive.

"When will the high commander arrive?" Kollok asks, prompting me to pace again.

"In two goras," Drin's assistant replies.

Not enough time. "Won't it appear suspicious if he travels all the way out here, and shortly after, there's this incident?"

"No. We're already nearby."

Worse and worse. "Why?"

The assistant eyes me. It's a little impertinent, questioning my superior, but he seems to let it pass. "The Averian sector, near you, lost sixteen ships during the false alarm. We are, naturally, investigating. Making a small detour to inspect your Harsi ship is perfectly reasonable."

He's unfortunately right.

"Now." The assistant folds his fingers. "Let's brainstorm how we'll murder the human."

My navigations officer clears his throat.

"Go ahead," I growl, already planning exactly how I'm going to break my promise to Zeerah and throw him through the ground.

"Sixteen ships disappeared in one sector?" Werrin tilts his head, having no idea that he's just saved his own life. "How do we know it isn't the Harsi?"

"That's the beauty of the plan." The assistant beams. "We must investigate the missing ships. Two hundred were destroyed in a single opportunistic assault by pirates. The Averian sector investigation will reveal a similar cause, so you must begin immediately to make your environment fatal to the lesser."

"We'll begin as soon as we finish this conference," Kollok says. "Won't we?"

Several of my junior bridge officers nod.

I make a note of them.

The senior officers—Marip, Werrin, my internal officer Laris, my weapons specialist Yarvi—do not respond.

Hmm.

I need to end this transmission and consider my options.

Drin's assistant seems to notice my distraction. "Captain Falkion? Your plan?"

"Let's wait. You may learn something in the Averian sector that changes your mind."

For the first time, the high commander himself leans forward. "This is not a pretend plan for a hypothetical threat, Falkion. We, as protectors of the empire, are under attack."

"Zeerah's been studying—"

"Listen to yourself." High Commander Drin leans back. "Kollok, lead the brainstorm."

"Ah, yes, High Commander." Kollok glances furtively at me and straightens. "We could chase her into a trap."

"A pit with spikes," a junior officer says.

"Yes, or…"

I am not going to sleep tonight.

While Kollok and the other conspirators brainstorm new horrors, my communications screen lights up with incoming calls. Science officers, engineers. They're coming from multiple locations.

Marip glances back at me, concerned.

I pause by her and lower my voice. "Find out what they want."

She touches her ear, murmuring into her implant.

"Captain Falkion." High Commander Drin crosses his arms. "Is the safety of the empire boring you?"

"Ah…" The hails are multiplying. Now our support ships are calling in. "It may be best if we pause—"

"We Arrisans are under attack. You will execute your duties and Zeerah, or you will no longer be my captain. Am I clear?"

I hold his gaze. "You are."

"Captain." Marip glances at the others apologetically. "The, ah, Zeerah has evacuated the Harsi ship."

The bridge falls silent.

Electric tingles streak up the back of my neck. "Why?"

Marip touches her implant again.

I cannot imagine a world in which this makes sense.

My implant locates Zeerah. She's inside the grav tubes. Moving toward the bridge?

Marip uses a smaller screen to accept a call from disgruntled science officers. They complain over each other. "It isn't right. She favors the engineers. What about our critical research?"

I cut through their complaints. "Where's Ukuri?"

They look around.

"I'll hail him." Marip brings up yet another screen. "He's on the PeaceWrecker, sir."

Ukuri appears on the other screen. He smiles with his usual inscrutable expression, dark surgical lenses hiding his silver eyes. "Hello, Captain. Quite an exciting shift, isn't it?"

"Zeerah evacuated the Harsi ship."

"Indeed."

"And you obeyed."

"Yes, well." Ukuri looks between the high commander's screen and the other science officers' screen as though reading the room. "Some may consider her actions overcautious…"

"The engineers were allowed to go back," one of the science officers complains.

"My research has continued uninterrupted," Ukuri brags. "Perhaps instead of bothering the captain, you should join me on the PeaceWrecker instead…?"

The science officers abruptly vacate their screen. Marip closes that connection.

A small alarm beeps on Ukuri's screen.

Behind him, his human assistant Noemi turns it off. Her mating mark is mostly obscured beneath a backpack. Inside is an orange Humana animal.

Ukuri smiles without mirth. "Another energy surge. Such an exciting shift. If that is all, Captain?"

I nod to Marip.

She terminates the call.

Energy surges?

Overcautious?

Dread churns in my guts.

The high commander's secret conference room chuckles. I can hear their smugness. Look at how Zeerah overreacts to one little energy surge. She will be easy to frighten.

A sudden hail comes to my implant. It's direct from engineering, bypassing the main communications panel. I turn away from the conspirators and touch my ear. "Go ahead, Olasi."

"We've done all we can, Captain, and we're ready for the full dreadnought evacuation order."

New electricity tingles down my spine. "Explain."

"You didn't hear?" Olasi's voice breaks. She's stressed beyond her limit. "The Harsi ship is growing out of control. With every energy surge, it's tunneling deeper into our ship, and if we don't get it stopped, it's going to breach our engines."

And then we all go ka-boom.

Cold fills me. "How long?"

Her tone turns biting. "I don't know, sir. I haven't read the Harsi ship's operating manual, sir. It's herky-jerky. Starts, stops, starts again. We could blow up in two clicks, we could blow up in two shifts. Let me know when you feel it's ‘worth it' to evacuate." She cuts contact.

Where is Zeerah?

I run to the locked bridge doors and force them open.

Zeerah stands on the other side, out of breath, her palm hovering over the manual opener. Her brows lift from surprise. "Oh!"

I stop abruptly.

Signals zip through my body. Loosening sheaths preparing to cut through any obstacles, muscles pinging in my legs as my suit prepares to run. I suddenly don't have any need. My goal is right before me.

Relief floods me. And then fierce protectiveness.

I take her hand and pull her into the bridge. It's the most sheltered location on this ship, even considering we're nestled against the engines—and enemies. "You're okay?"

She shakes her head. "We need to evacuate the dreadnought."

Everyone gapes at her.

My bridge crew.

The conspirators.

High Commander Drin.

They smirk at her obvious fear.

And right in front of all of them, I touch my implant to project to the entire ship. "This is Captain Falkion. Begin a controlled evacuation."