Traitor's Reward

By Wayne Austin

US Edition

Book Three of The Zhivar Trilogy

Released back into the Feebarn Alliance, Arkley finds himself caught between the demands of his daughter, Karthleen, and Melangie. Trouble is, he can't keep his promises to either.

And to make matters worse, he must get the Leetopic and the Aroglan two-partial, Gleepolilan, to Carogete without falling into Efiel Darnstorn's hands.

On top of that, he must stop an intergalactic war from breaking out as his alien guests and the Zhivar within Karthleen battle each other for control over him. A task easier said than done. And when Danora shows up,
that task gets even harder as she is not what she seems.

But Arkley has a dream that could bring about his redemption. Unfortunately, it could also bring about the demise of the universe...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Feb 27, 2023
• ISBN: 9781447819158

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Madam President, Professor Zhoutang began slowly while she carefully considered her words and Salma fought down a pout. Usually, no news didn’t necessarily mean bad news. No news implied some hope, but the good professor’s dour demeanor dashed that implication. I am at a loss, to say the least. With a shrug, she sat back and took a sip of her Daedorlecto without bothering to grimace.

Salma put down her coffee cup and stared evenly at her chief scientist, searching for any flicker of hesitation she could latch on to. Some crack she could work on to reveal that all wasn’t a lost cause. But Zhoutang’s defense stood firm. That bad, huh? she said at last.

We’ve tried everything, but something in his brain keeps foiling our attempts.

Salma frowned. What do you mean, ‘something’? A modification to his brain? An alien device? Can’t you cut it out—?

Zhoutang snorted and let slip a disparaging smirk. Please, Madam President, Salma, leave the bad jokes to me. But after a brief shake of her head, she grew serious. We haven’t found anything and by that, I mean every attempt to scan his brain shows nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, it looks ridiculously bland. We’ve extracted memories we’d expect to find and can verify, but we can’t find any traces of any information regarding the Klev or the Aroglan. We have memories of him talking to Darnstorn, and even some with Caldorkia after making up for lost time.

Zhoutang cocked an eye, but, to her disappointment, Salma refused to be teased. So Lenstrith had been fucking his fiancé. Maybe, if Zhoutang actually tried it, perhaps, she wouldn’t be so dismissive of those with a heterosexual bent. Still, the Security Minister’s agents were only human and should have talked shop, especially when it came to dealing with their alien supporters.

It’s odd, though, Zhoutang continued, after giving in. Some of those memories look like they’ve been edited on the fly. They don’t quite gel.

How do you mean?

Well... Zhoutang pursed her lips and looked into the distance over Salma’s shoulder before returning her gaze to the president. "For example, when Saundier captured him, he has no memories of the Aroglan ship or meeting with them or the Klev and yet during that period, he talks with his ship’s personality about what Darnstorn needs to do in the Octet. And his ship gives him orders. Orders! Zhoutang shook her head as she barked a laugh. Can you believe it? Orders! And it treated him like a child, except it refused to answer his questions and basically ignored him."

Zhoutang sat back and raised her cup to her lips before suddenly remembering what she was about to imbibe. With a disparaging frown that said Well done! You fooled me once, she placed it back on Salma’s desk.

Sounds like that Aroglan creature, Arkley captured, said Salma.

The two-partial? Zhoutang nodded to agree. Plus a few more partials, I expect. Oh, and when Baby observed him departing from that huge disk, you know what his memories of it are?

Salma shrugged with the patience of Buddha, one of her favorite ancient deities as Zhoutang waited for a nonplussed answer.

Nothing! It appears his ship orders him to depart into Aroglan space and for several weeks, he has these inane one-sided conversations with its personality. Nor is he surprised at not being destroyed when they switch back to Normal-space right where the Aroglan released him. Zhoutang sniffed in disgust. These Aroglan must think we’re truly stupid!

Still, they’ve gone to great lengths to cover their tracks, which is unfortunate. Salma pouted at the realization. She had hoped to crack her Minister for Security’s support base wide open, but Lenstrith’s mind was proving to be a hard nut to crack. The old adage should’ve cheered her up, but she didn’t like being one step behind. Though... She perked up at a thought that all wasn’t lost.

This something? she asked, hopefully. Perhaps she could undercut Darnstorn in the Council by presenting incontrovertible evidence of alien interference that couldn’t be explained away.

Zhoutang let out a rueful sigh. I’m sorry, Madam President. There is definitely something there, but we can’t detect it.

I, uh. Salma sat back and stared at her chief scientist in complete befuddlement. That doesn’t make sense!

"I know it sounds crazy but trust me. Some ... thing is there, present within his brain’s physical structure. As to what it is, I can’t say, but it is intelligent. Somehow, it manages to modify the signals our scanning devices register and even when we try to physically intercept pulses traveling within individual axons, it seems to know what we’re trying to do. It interferes just enough that any cognitive neural engineer would notice something is odd. Zhoutang quirked her lips, like she had quaffed her Daedorlecto without thinking, then shrugged with a forlorn smile. We’re stymied."

Salma studied Zhoutang and tried not to let her disappointment show. If her chief scientist and her team were at a loss, then no one in the Stellar Federation could do any better. And his database? Any luck with that?

Zhoutang shook her head. Its encryption is beyond us. Eperlautsky’s law states that all encryption methods have at least one fundamental weakness that can be exploited within a usable timescale. However, finding that flaw may take almost as long as it takes to crack it by brute force. Zhoutang offered a bemused shrug. By our current estimate, the Milky Way will have long collided with the Andromeda galaxy before we might get lucky. And I mean ‘might’. Currently, it isn’t humanly possible—

Humanly? Salma perked up as an idea smacked her in the face. What about our new friends?

The Leetopic? I doubt—

No, their masters. Salma broke into a smile as it dawned on Zhoutang. Maybe I can kill two birds with one stone. I’m sure the Wierda would love to know what the Aroglan are up to, and I can show how sincere we really are in wanting to deal with them. Plus, I can nail my good minister, once and for all.

That’s three birds, Zhoutang corrected, triumphantly.

And for that, you get another Daedorlecto.

As Zhoutang’s smirk died, Salma ignored her and began poking icons on her desktop. Smart comments, I expect from my great-grandnephew. Hmm ... speaking of which, he’s in the perfect place to handle this, since he’s coming to pick up his raiders. Apparently, he’s been nagging Jarques. She tapped an icon at the top left of her desktop display. Two Daedorlectos, she ordered and winked at Zhoutang. Make one a Doppio.

As the drinks tray trundled over, she let Zhoutang squirm, before she relented. The Doppio’s for me. She waited until Zhoutang took a reluctant sip, before resuming business. What do you think? Should I try approaching the Aroglan? Via the Klev? If nothing, it might undermine Efiel’s relationship with them and that can’t be a bad result.

You’re playing a dangerous game. Letting the Wierda know—

I know, I know.

Salma sighed. Having the Wierda discover that she was also trying to negotiate with the Zhivar could have been disastrous, but it was also a blessing. Where Deeto had failed, she might well succeed. Jarques had hinted to the Leetopic that she might approach the Aroglan if she couldn’t secure a deal, but it had been a bluff at the time. Just some extra added pressure.

But how far could she push?

She’d need to prove she had the artifact, which might backfire on her. Her bravado faltered. What if the Aroglan provided Darnstorn with weapons to ensure he could retrieve it for them? Was it worth the gamble? Only time would tell.

As she took a sip, she scowled but not at the Doppio.

CHAPTER 1

Daddy, when are we going to Earth? Karthleen asked yet again, her head buried in Arkley’s chest as she snuggled into him.

After Wildakarael had released them and Melangie had tried to draw him to her cabin to consummate their relationship, Karthleen had become clingy. But sometimes he had to wonder. Was it really her or the Zhivar within her that were trying to pull his strings? Either way, both wanted him to head for Earth to complete the negotiations, then retrieve the artifact and return it to the Zhivar. Which, by obvious assumption, meant returning both specimens to captivity.

Except he didn’t want to do either. Dragging Melangie to Earth would destroy their budding ... love affair? Long-term relationship? She’d fight him tooth and nail and he definitely didn’t want that. And he didn’t want to return Karthleen to—

A sudden guilty pang punched him in the gut, and he hugged Karthleen tight.

As was its want, the truth slapped him in the face. He didn’t want to return to the Zhivar—

No! The truth slapped him again. He didn’t want to return to Danora—

No! The truth slapped him, harder, like he had once slapped Danora. And, finally, he admitted the truth he had always known. He didn’t want to leave Melangie. He wanted to be with her. Drown in her. Just dump everything and walk away. With her. But every time they had tried to succumb to their desires, Karthleen had caught them and put on such a tear-strewn act that Melangie had finally given up.

Damn it. Why did the Zhivar have to send Karthleen to haunt him with his broken promises? Why couldn’t they have kept her back where she belonged?

Arkley sucked in a sharp breath and fought back the shameful tears. How could he think such a thing? She was his daughter and he loved her, but ... but if she would just give him a break...

She twisted in his hug and grabbed his left arm to explore its stump with her fingers. When we return home, the Zhivar can grow your hand back, she said, half-sounding like she was admonishing him for not doing as she asked while also dangling a carrot on a stick before his eyes.

Once we get to Carogete, I’ll get a mold put on and that will grow my hand back.

But not as quickly. Karthleen tapped the tiny connectors where the robot hand would plug in and her brow furrowed. Can you feel things the same with a robot hand? she asked.

I don’t know. I’ll guess I’ll find out soon—

How about now? Melangie cut in and Arkley looked up to see her floating at the entrance to the rear corridor, staring at him with a slightly mischievous smile. It’s finished. Why don’tcha come and try it on? she added with a quirk of her lips and he wondered what she was up to.

Lately, she had become distant again, thanks to his daughter, and Karthleen, while not exactly being openly hostile to Melangie, hadn’t hidden the fact that Daddy belonged with Mommy and her and Mariel and no one else. And she wasn’t going to let this interloper break up their happy family.

With a grunt, Arkley broke Karthleen’s grip and eased her to the side, but she grabbed him around the waist as he pushed off toward Melangie.

No! Melangie snapped, and she held out her palm to stop Karthleen. We have to fit it in my workshop, and you can’t come in.

But— Karthleen began.

There’re no buts, Melangie countered. I’ve got delicate machines in there and besides, it’ll be crowded with you. Why don’tcha go see what the Leetopic and Gleepolilan are up to? Cos this will take a while. We got all sorts of tests to do to make it work just right. For a moment, Melangie’s eyes twinkled, though she maintained her stern frown.

Do as she says. Arkley pulled Karthleen free and eased her into the corridor. I don’t trust the Leetopic and I’m relying on you to make sure they don’t get up to any mischief.

But Daddy—

But no. Now do as Daddy asks. He ushered her further into the corridor and ignored her pout with his own stern frown until she gave in and drifted away.

Melangie let out a relieved sigh and the door to her workshop slid open to welcome them with a harsh bright light. Arkley hesitated. This was the first time he had managed to be alone with Melangie. But as he opened his mouth to make a glib remark, she turned away and picked something up, then presented it to him.

He looked at the hand and then, hesitantly took it. Oh wow, he murmured, turning it over to study this clone of his missing hand. It looks so real. Even the skin.

Told you, you wouldn’t tell the difference. Go on, put it on.

Arkley held up his left arm, then aligned the robot hand’s connectors with those on his stump and slotted it home. With the barest hint of a hum, the fingers waggled, like they had a mind of their own—

With a start, Arkley flinched. He felt them move and yet they felt ... not like his fingers. The sensation was distant. Dampened. But slowly, as the fist clenched and unclenched while the wrist flexed, it began to feel right, then, as the fingers went through a rapid series of exercises, they started to feel like his. Almost. He twisted his arm and stared at where the join should have been, but it looked like his hand had never been chopped off.

As he went to ask what he should do, his left hand flipped out like his real hand would have done. I, uh, he gasped. It was like it could read his mind.

Do something, Melangie urged him. Move your fingers.

He studied his palm and broke into a grin as, one by one, he curled and straightened each finger. Then he reached up and began exploring his face. But slowly, his grin faded. It felt like a stranger was touching him, except he shared this doppelganger’s mind. Tentatively, he reached out and stroked Melangie’s cheek and he had to admire her for not flinching. Instead, she held his gaze and smiled. But she felt ghostly and he stroked her other cheek with his right hand to reassure himself.

It’ll take a little while to get used to it, she said, but it’s not superhuman, so don’t think you can go round crushing things. It’s modeled on data from the medi-bay for your original hand.

In that case... With a sly smile, Arkley let his left hand slide down, his fingertips brushing her neck, to her breast. We could test it out properly, he suggested, as he gently fondled her.

She smirked. Then what are you waiting for? Without warning, she threw herself at him and swamped him with a kiss that left no doubt that she’d had an ulterior motive up her sleeve.

Then she pulled away and began to peel off her clothes. Arkley gasped, but it wasn’t from seeing her strip. His whole body felt electrified. He tingled so bad it hurt.

C’mon, Arkley, Melangie teased. Whatcha waiting for? You playing hard to get? Maybe I should go get my toys. I know you found them.

What? I—

Tarkier told me you went through my drawers.

Arkley felt his cheeks burn. I was after — I needed to get—

But you’d already found Tarkier’s pin. You just couldn’t help yourself, could you, ya dirty little pervert. But don’t worry. If you’re a good little pervert, one of these days I might teach you how to use them. In the meantime, she slipped a hand up between his thighs and fondled him back. Whatcha waiting for?

I ... uh. Arkley swallowed hard. His mind, unable to comprehend his good fortune, had turned to mush.

Dammit! Melangie growled, as he fumbled to pull off his top. What is it with men? I want you to do the sex! With that, she ripped his pants down and proceeded to show him that he wasn’t dreaming.

If this was making love, then he’d never made love to anyone. This was dirty and raunchy and brutal in such a wanton way that all his sterile couplings with Danora were little better than tarted up masturbation masquerading as love. But this...

He drowned in her and let his desires rip. At first, she let him run free and put up with his not-so-subtle attempts to please her. But slowly, she took over and proved herself to be the expert teacher. Subtly, she slipped into the dominant role, gently guiding him, and telling him what to do as if they were co-conspirators. And yet, she surprised him with her willingness to surrender to his brutal, animal desires when they erupted without warning. But her spring must have been wound tighter than his and her needs more urgent, for her dam burst before he was ready. But that didn’t stop him.

But the muffled banging on the door almost did.

Still, when he came, he could feel Melangie’s disappointment as her body tensed. This should be a time of pleasurable denouement. Of whispering sweet nothings. And then going again. But Karthleen’s frantic pleas, though slightly muted, killed the mood and Melangie reluctantly pulled free.

Ignore her, said Arkley.

But though she didn’t pull away, she looked past him with a pout. I can’t. Not with that. With a sigh, she pulled free and grabbed her pants to signal that they were done. But as she pulled her clothes on, she couldn’t hide her anger and disappointment. I swear she hates me, she confided, unable to look Arkley in the eye as if she didn’t want to see her dagger strike home. Baby too. I’m sure she’s been telling Karthleen when we’ve been alone together.

Baby? Arkley frowned. Are you sure?

Yeah. She cuts Tarkier out so he can’t monitor them, but he did manage a recording from a sensor in the corridor where he could see Karthleen talking and no one else was there. Then she came and caught us before we could... She shrugged.

Arkley sighed. He had begun to suspect but he hadn’t wanted to believe it for old time’s sake. I’m not surprised, he said at last. She’s been nagging me as well. But, he pursed his lips in one last attempt to let Baby off the hook, maybe the Zhivar are manipulating her.

Maybe, Melangie acceded, as she stared intently at Arkley. He chuckled at her serious look, but his laugh died when she darted forward and threw her arms around his neck. Don’t give in, she pleaded and then kissed him hard. In fact, you don’t need to go to Earth. All Neilor’s gotta do is hand over the artifact. Why ... why don’tcha come with me when we reach Carogete? Jackarel and Karolic can take them to Earth. Please! She kissed him again, with more passion. Arkley, I ... I don’t wanna lose you.

I don’t want to lose you either, he murmured.

But, as Melangie nuzzled his neck and murmured how good their life together would be, his euphoria began to sour as the persistent muffled pounding and yelling continued unabated. She had to be naive if she thought she could come between a father and his daughter. Even though he hadn’t promised her, he hadn’t dashed her hopes. It wasn’t like he could just walk away. What the Zhivar could or would do was anyone’s guess and as for Gleepolilan and the Leetopic, he doubted they would let him out of their sights after they reached Carogete. And then there was Bahn and Escovar to contend with, not to mention Karolic and Jackarel. He let out a wry chuckle as he saw the solution to his dilemma in one of Salma’s old sayings. All they had to do was cut him up into pieces. But his chuckle died. Would these Shylocks be satisfied with a mere pound of flesh?

And then there was Baby. As far as he knew, she couldn’t take over the Queen of the Stars, but with a little help...

Reluctantly, Melangie pulled away. I know she’s your daughter, but... She shrugged. Who’d be a parent? I’d be no good for a start.

You’d think different if you had your own. Why d’you think I chased Danora all over the Octet and the Alliance? I couldn’t let them go, even when I thought they were... Arkley felt the tears forming in his eyes, but Melangie gently wiped them away. I swear. Karthleen’s not like this. Normally. It’s the Zhivar. Has to be.

If you say so.

With that, Melangie took his left hand and drew him over to the door, which slid aside. Karthleen fell through and wrapped Arkley in a bear hug.

Daddy, Daddy, Daddy! she cried. I missed you and I got so scared. Don’t ever leave me alone.

He pouted at Melangie as if to say, What can you do? If she were a mother, she’d see that he had no choice. None at all.

As Melangie eased him out into the corridor he rubbed Karthleen’s back. It’s okay, Karthleen, there’s nothing to be scared of. Baby will let me know if there is.

We have to go to Earth, Karthleen sniffled. The sooner we do, the sooner we get back to Mommy.

Arkley glanced at Melangie as she headed for the saloon.

I need a drink, she said and gave him a meaningful stare. He might have no choice, but she believed he had made a promise and if there was one certainty in this universe she could count on, Arkley Saundier was a man of his word.

I want to see Mommy, Karthleen whined. I miss her.

I know. Arkley ruffled her hair and drew her down the corridor to his cabin. And you will, but it might take a little while. Actually, you know what? he said, as if it had just come to him. Once we reach Carogete, two of President Neilor’s best agents can take you straight to Earth in their fastest ship so your Zhivar can complete their negotiations and get the artifact.

Karthleen looked up at him with a confused stare. But aren’t you coming?

I — It might be difficult.

But you must, Baby cut in. President Neilor is relying on you to return with the Zhivar’s answer. The last situation report I received, before we were captured, outlined the deteriorating situation. The president needs this problem resolved. That is why you need to get to Earth as soon as possible.

The Zhivar can help the Baby artificial intelligence take control of this vessel, Karthleen said in the monotone voice, which the Zhivar used to talk through her, and her vacant eyes gave the final proof.

But what about Gleepolilan and the Leetopic? Arkley asked, as he thought furiously. He might have no choice but that didn’t mean he had to accept it, besides, he could still feel Melangie’s kisses on his lips.

The Zhivar can negate each one.

But that’s when it’s one on one. What about together? You can’t! Arkley crowed. Not both at the same time. And if they decide to work together—

They will not—

But they have!

That is true, Baby admitted, though only when it was absolutely necessary.

Karthleen’s eyes came alive, but only to fill with tears. "Daddy! You have to come with me. The Zhivar don’t trust anyone else to negotiate for them. You brought the message. You have to take their answer and bring me and the artifact back."

I don’t see—

But Karthleen hugged him tighter and her voice began to tremble. Daddy, I’m really, really scared now. I can feel their anger. They’re saying they don’t know enough about human communication nuances to guarantee the correct outcome. They say without you, negotiating is pointless. And if that’s the case, then I am pointless as well!

She burst into tears. Oh, Daddy, Daddy, she wailed, if you don’t come with us, they’ll kill me. Please Daddy. Promise me, you will.

I, I— Silently, Arkley cursed the Zhivar. They knew the value of nuances in the face of a sledgehammer, so it was pointless telling Karthleen they wouldn’t kill her. She wouldn’t believe him, not when the voices in her head said otherwise. Okay, he gave in.

How simple to lie. He thought he was no longer Arkley the Traitor, but old habits, it seemed, died hard. And his quandary remained. Whatever he decided, he’d betray someone he cared about. Not that Karthleen nor her Zhivar cared.

With Karthleen’s help, said Baby, I should be able to take over the Queen of the Stars without the others—

Arkley looked round at the soft rustle and saw a Leetopic clinging to the wall at the far corner.

It is curious that sensors in this area have been neutralized, it said. It creates suspicion, especially when Zhivar are involved.

What? Arkley feigned surprise. No, I was just comforting Karthleen and setting her mind at ease, but I didn’t want Melangie to hear what I had to say, in case it upset her. Here, he ushered Karthleen into his cabin, it’s late and you need your sleep.

"Marranjaypop and Gleepolilan request your presence to discuss actions at Carogete."

Arkley sighed. Gleepolilan and the Leetopic weren’t going to go quietly into the night. Very well—

Karthleen balked as he pushed her into the cabin. Daddy! I’ll come with you.

The Zhivar’s presence is not permitted, said the Leetopic.

Arkley held her at bay. Karthleen, stay here. Please, do as Daddy says. I won’t be long. After a few minutes of cajoling, she gave in. Whether it was her decision or the Zhivar’s, he couldn’t say, though he suspected, and with a sinking feeling, he followed the Leetopic. Every game had players, and each rolled the dice. All, except him.

Which left him wondering. Was he really a player or merely a pawn with aspirations? Only time would tell. The question was whether he could choose which to be.

Philosophers still argued over whether free will was real or an illusion, but he knew one thing for certain. Puppets never pulled their own strings.

CHAPTER 2

Sir! The Communications Officer of The Trithium’s Revenge called out and Alistrade looked up from his console. We’re receiving a distress call — No, it’s stopped.

Alistrade waited, patiently, while Izzleblaad manipulated icons on her console. He couldn’t blame the merchant ship’s captain for overreacting, since the sudden appearance of such a weird ship would unnerve even the most jaded of captains, especially when it then charged at you. Who wouldn’t panic? And the blowing out of the victim’s communication’s system certainly didn’t help.

The Contender, out of Bombalay. That’s all I got. Ah! Another distress — What? That’s cut out as well. Izzleblaad’s fingers danced over her console for a few more minutes and then she looked up at Alistrade and shook her head.

Pirates? he asked, though he doubted it. While blatant piracy was uncommon, it did happen, but Alliance ships were rarely targeted since most culprits were easily identified and payback was a nasty bitch. Instead, subtle piracy, via corruption and abuse of local planetary laws, was much more common and not just the preserve of the Big Five.

No, said Izzleblaad, and then she hesitated. Well, not the first message. It has that telltale signature at its cutoff that’s been reported with other Breemerstrol encounters. As for the second message, I can’t say. But they’ve come from a star neighboring the one we’re heading for. It looks like the predictive algorithm for the Breemerstrol’s destination is slightly off.

Shall I change course? the Navigation Officer asked.

Do it, Alistrade ordered. Perhaps his luck was changing, and they might catch sight of the alien ship before it vanished. Not only was the star a little closer, so was its vector.

With his contingent of three frigates and four corvettes, he departed deep and arrived close in, but the Breemerstrol was nowhere to be seen. Then a warbling alarm broke out. As one, his squadron turned to face this unexpected threat and settled into its attack formation.

Alistrade gasped at the warship heading straight for him and braking. Perhaps that saved them. It took a moment to register, but he recognized the Federation cruiser an instant before the cruiser’s personality identified it.

Warning, its personality announced, the Federation cruiser, Victorious, is approaching. The alarm changed to an urgent trill and The Trithium’s Revenge rolled and yawed sharply. We have been fired on.

His seat’s restraints snapped on and Alistrade watched the battle unfold in the main display. Clearly, the Victorious wasn’t expecting him, which was fortunate. The Federation warship ignored this nuisance and zeroed in on a nearby vector, which the Breemerstrol must have taken. That made it unfortunate. If Darnstorn was also chasing after the Breemerstrol, it made his task much more difficult, especially as he could not let this opportunity slip. But was this really an opportunity? Alistrade pursed his lips as he watched this unfortunate trap of his making close on him.

Since the Victorious hadn’t launched any fighters, Darnstorn had to be in a hurry. From the few reports of encounters survived, the Breemerstrol was a difficult quarry to follow, so time was of the essence. But that didn’t make this dogfight any less vicious. In most instances, such battles would be one-sided and weighted in favor of the Victorious, but he doubted that Darnstorn’s cruiser had the battle experience his frigates had gained from fighting in the Octet. It almost evened the odds.

Time and again, his squadron dived in to nip at the cruiser’s heels, before wheeling away, but this Federation beast had formidable horns that took their toll. Silently, Alistrade cursed his luck. If he’d been at the head of one of the flotilla’s sent into the Octet, he’d have no problem in presenting Darnstorn’s head to Bahn. Instead, logic demanded that he back off to fight again another day. But would that day come? And this was Darnstorn! Oh, what a prize to be tempted with.

And that made his decision simple.

As he watched the Victorious slow to a stop, he ordered his battered minions to form up in readiness to follow. Unfortunately, two of his frigates had to bow out, such was the severity of their damage, and he ordered them to return to Carogete and report to Bahn.

Alistrade soaked in the grim faces staring at him from around the bridge. They knew the odds. Suicide was never a good bet, but sometimes you had to play the longshot. All had lost family and friends on Parasimon and the shock and horror of that now led to an acceptable form of madness. This would be a fight with no winner. But, if he was lucky, there’d be a few survivors to recount Darnstorn’s last stand. With a subtle but determined nod, Alistrade ordered his squadron to attack but the Victorious blinked out of existence. That didn’t matter though. It just meant the battle was postponed a few days—

Another warbling alarm rang out.

Sir! The First Officer called out, as the main display swerved and zoomed in on a hexagonal shape, silhouetted against the star’s white glare. A Klev ship has arrived.

Damn, Alistrade muttered, and his First Officer nodded to concur.

It couldn’t be a coincidence. He’d perused the reports of aliens following other aliens, so he doubted the Klev was coming to Darnstorn’s rescue. However, as Darnstorn’s ally, it had to know who Darnstorn’s enemies were, which put a certain little group of battered humans in its crosshairs.

As if it had just read his mind, the Klev rotated and charged toward them. Following after Darnstorn became a moot point and Alistrade’s mind raced as he considered his options. But a sitting duck had none.

Is it going to attack? his First Officer asked in a subdued voice, as if hoping the obvious answer was wrong.

Let’s move away, Alistrade decided, hoping that would appease the Klev. Head for where that freighter was. Maybe they’ll realize we’re not a threat.

But the Klev adjusted course and closed remorselessly. Then it veered sharply and dived at an even higher acceleration toward the star’s surface.

Sir! His First Officer’s face lit up in an excited grin as he turned to Alistrade. A Leetopic ship has arrived. Seventy-three by thirty-nine in Quadrant Three. The display zoomed in on the upper quadrant and a cheer broke out. Then a green glow sprung up from behind the familiar translucent red bulb and it aimed its dart-shaped nipple squarely at the now braking Klev. Maybe it was a warning. Get lost. But the Klev took it seriously. It slowed hard to a stop, rotated, and then vanished.

Where’d it go? Alistrade demanded.

That’s odd, his Navigation Officer replied. To a star on the edge of Zhivar space.

In the display, the red bulb angled toward them. The Leetopic are hailing us, Izzleblaad announced and Alistrade’s mood soured. Even though they had saved his skin, if there was one lesson he had learned from Bahn’s interactions with them, they didn’t have a benevolent bone in their bodies.

I’ll take it in my quarters. Trying not to scowl, he clambered out of his chair and headed for his cabin, just outside the bridge. At least, he had a viable excuse for his presence. He thought about thanking them for their intervention, but experience had proven that to be pointless. With a sigh, he slumped onto the chair and rested his palms on his fold-down desk.

What can I do for you? he asked, looking at the wall display where the Leetopic ship rapidly grew larger, even though the call was audio only.

Curious your presence here.

Why? I was responding to a distress call from a freighter being attacked by a Federation cruiser, but it got away. Then the Klev arrived and headed for us — I think it was going to attack — but when you arrived it got cold feet. That was Darnstorn’s cruiser, you know? He’s our enemy and it looks like the rumors of him doing a deal with the Klev are true.

Leetopic also curious as to why human groups are trying to follow the Darnstorn presence in the Feebarn Alliance.

What human groups? he asked. Though Escovar had told Bahn he’d send forces after Darnstorn, the bureaucrat politician was a bully at heart and only picked a fight with the weak.

Sir, his First Officer cut in, four ships have arrived and claimed salvage over the freighter’s remains. They’re from Lindsford.

This human group has been following the Darnstorn’s presence, said the Leetopic voice, but has made no attempt at contact.

This is the first time I’ve come across them, said Alistrade. That they came from Lindsford spelled trouble, but the fact that they knew Darnstorn’s movements was even more troubling. But that question could wait. The Leetopic also appeared to lose interest as their ship angled away and dived toward the Klev’s departure point. Have you been following Darnstorn’s ... presence? Perhaps you could—

The Klev threat has been mitigated for the time being, the Leetopic voice cut in. Leetopic strongly urge this Deeto human presence not to chase after the Darnstorn’s presence.

But! Alistrade bristled. Were the Leetopic ordering him to abandon the chase or was it merely a suggestion because they knew something he didn’t. He took a deep breath to calm himself. Why not? he asked, but the Leetopic were their usual forthcoming selves.

The Leetopic also curious. Has the Alistrade observed any alien ships prior to the Klev arrival?

Alistrade smiled to himself. So that was it. They didn’t want him following Darnstorn in case he came across the Breemerstrol, who would undoubtedly try to make contact. But his smile faded. Did the Leetopic suspect that Bahn wanted to make contact so he could negotiate with the Breemerstrol and cut the Wierda out of the picture? No, he replied, only the Klev. And you. Why, what other aliens are there?

He waited but got the usual reply.

Sir, Izzleblaad piped up, they’ve broken contact.

With a sinking feeling, he realized he would have to step cautiously. As far as his mission was concerned, contacting the Breemerstrol was reduced to a pipedream, but worse than that, he would lose Darnstorn. That hurt the most.

Sir, said Izzleblaad, I have a call from the leaders of the salvagers. A Milarno and a Valdez.

As he considered ignoring their call, Alistrade drummed his fingers. Riffraff like this always spelled trouble. But then he perked up. The Leetopic said they were following in Darnstorn’s footsteps. But how?

In the display, a window popped up and two faces, one an angel and the other a rat, stared at him with open disdain. We claim this vessel as salvage, said the angel, so get lost.

Yah, added the rat. Besides, you’re Octet, so ya can’t salvage anything.

By law, added the angel, as if that meant anything in the Alliance.

Alistrade stared at them and then laughed. Really? he asked. He didn’t want a fight, but it had been a long time since he had smashed anyone’s head in, and if these scumbags wanted to be taught a lesson, he was in the mood to oblige. Unfortunately, if he did, Escovar would be sure to use it to his advantage. He could hear him now, lording it over Bahn.

Is this any way to treat friends?

Alistrade switched to his Navigation Officer. Zoorak, what’s our ETA to the wreckage? Can we beat them there?

Zoorak’s fingers danced over his console. A tad over eighteen hours, Sir. It’s neck and neck, but we should just beat them by an hour, depending. Two, if we push it. But their ships are also fast. Surprisingly so. In fact, they’re faster than us. He frowned as he studied his console, like what he was seeing didn’t make sense, but then his face relaxed. Ah, I see... Sir, they seemed to have gotten their hands on some Federation tech.

Are they Federation drives?

No, but it looks like they’ve had their hands on one. I’m picking up signatures that match those detected in the Octet during contact with Darnstorn’s forces.

Saundier, Alistrade growled, softly. He had been through Lindsford twice, according to reports. Damn, he muttered and switched back to Milarno and Valdez. Whichever way he looked at it, the softly, softly approach was his only bet. I’m not looking for trouble. All I want is the AI so I can access its logs. Let me retrieve that and the rest is yours.

The angel, Milarno, gasped, like he had been shot through the heart, and Valdez’s eyes narrowed to demon slits.

You joking! Milarno spluttered. That AI worth eighth of ship.

You stealing bastard! Valdez snapped. Piss off. You’ll get nothing.

And how will you stop me? Alistrade asked, not bothering to hide his amusement.

Milarno’s stare grew deadly serious. We’re not so weak. Got access to one of Tricky-D’s raiders. Drives and lasers now up to Fed specs. Better’n you. So back off!

Besides, Valdez added with a smirk. Looks like you already had your asses spanked.

You think so? Alistrade countered. Why d’you think the Victorious isn’t here to finish us off? Sometimes a lie was worth a thousand truths and the best lies always contained a kernel of truth. Alistrade kept his face straight as his lie hit its mark and Valdez lost his smirk. As for these two guttersnipes, it was better to make friends than enemies, although they were the last pair he’d turn his back on. Tell you what, he suggested, why don’t we make a deal?

Milarno licked his lips and a spark lit up Valdez’s eyes as both saw an opportunity to swindle a naive Trithium.

Ya, Valdez agreed, a little too sweetly.

Have many buyers for that AI, added Milarno with a knowing nod.

Desperate buyers, said Valdez. This freighter latest model Denchler.

Top of the line, said Milarno, only seven months old.

Big chance for you to upgrade at a reasonable price, Valdez explained.

Alistrade resisted a laugh. The trouble with blatant lies was just that. They were blatant. He thought about attacking and getting rid of this pack of vermin, like he would’ve done once, without a second thought, but what the Leetopic had revealed about them intrigued him. Instead, he took the new road, like Bahn was forced to do.

I don’t want to buy it, he said, just want to ... borrow it for a little while.

The looks on both men’s faces soured. We don’t lend out stuff! Milarno snapped, then he glanced at his partner. You could lease.

Why you want to borrow it? Valdez asked.

I want to interrogate its logs, said Alistrade, to find out why Darnstorn was here and if there were any alien ships present—

Aliens? Milarno stared at Alistrade suspiciously, as he waited.

You mean the Leetopic? Valdez asked.

Besides them. And the Klev, said Alistrade.

Klev? Milarno asked, trying, unconvincingly, to sound shocked.

They were here. No. I’m trying to track down another. Breemerstrol. You’ve seen them?

Nah, said Valdez, but his rat eyes betrayed him.

Heard of them, said Milarno.

Who hasn’t, added Valdez.

Why you trying to find them? asked Milarno.

I’ve had reports they’ve been trying to contact Alliance and Octet ships, but their attempts keep damaging the comms.

So? said Valdez. No one’s seen ‘em recently.

That’s because of Darnstorn, said Alistrade. We think he’s trying to contact them and destroying any ships he comes across in the process. Which brings me to you.

Huh? Milarno looked genuinely surprised. We had nothing to do with this.

And yet, you arrive here less than a day after, to claim salvage. You had to have departed before the freighter was attacked. So how did you know?

How dare you accuse us? Valdez thundered with righteous indignation.

I won’t, said Alistrade, but the insurance companies will when I report it to them. Have you done a deal with Darnstorn? I wouldn’t put it past you, and neither will they.

"What? Milarno blustered. No. No! That’s ridiculous!"

"You crazy! Valdez snapped, spit flying off, Tricky-D! Never!"

You sure? Alistrade cajoled with a smirk. He enjoyed sticking the knife in, even if it wasn’t the physical act that he much preferred. What about when Darnstorn visited Lindsford? He didn’t attack your ships that met him.

He was after the Bastard! Milarno snapped.

Traitor, Valdez corrected.

Yeah! Ripped us off!

And after we did such a good job, Valdez bemoaned.

We was going to attack him, Milarno continued in a grim voice, but the Leetopic drove him off.

And the bastard Traitor got away, Valdez finished.

But Alistrade wasn’t ready to let them off the hook. That doesn’t sound like the Darnstorn, I know. I’ve heard he was after the Traitor and the Leetopic only warned him off before they then left, which makes me wonder. Why didn’t he stick around a while longer and take out his frustration on you riffraff? I’m sure he would’ve enjoyed it just for the hell of it. He’s that kinda guy.

As both protested their innocence, he listened, staunchly skeptic, much to their growing chagrin, but then another window popped up. Alistrade stared at the wreck of a man. Though he had clearly suffered a lifetime’s worth of misery and now carried the mother of all chips on his shoulder, he scowled, more at Milarno and Valdez than Alistrade.

Fuckin’ cut the crap, you morons, he ordered, or I’ll cut you bastards out. His grief-shadowed eyes turned to stab at Alistrade. Sure, we knew where Tricky-D was headin’. Been followin’ him. Makes for lucrative business. Just have to be careful.

Fuck you, Barford, Milarno snapped.

Agreed to keep it secret, Valdez added with a threatening stare, but he backed off when Barford returned his stare and upped the ante. Just sayin’, he grumbled.

And you run this show, Barford...? Alistrade asked.

Sanjeray Barford. You could say that—

We’re partners, Valdez snapped.

We financed it, Milarno added.

You mean the Varinia Barford and Victims Reparation Foundation did, Barford corrected.

We’ve put our own money in, said Valdez. Fifty-fifty.

Barford snorted. Your money? Why don’t you tell that to the others?

We act for them, Milarno said, defensively.

So, Sanjeray, said Alistrade, you’ve been following Darnstorn without actually seeing the Victorious depart. How?

It’s our secret, Milarno snapped, but Barford ignored him.

Got a predictive algorithm. Tells me where Tricky-D’ll next attack. I fed insurance claims on ships that had been attacked and destroyed by unknown attackers to a specialized AI and it came up with it. Only one that can. Then, after it proved to be fairly accurate, I came up with the salvage idea. That’s why these assholes will do what I tell them.

Now listen, Sanjeray—

Shut up, Valdez. You both know you’re only here to give my crew protection. You certainly don’t help with the salvaging.

Alistrade saw his opening and jumped in. I said I wanted to make a deal. How about I offer you protection and you give me the most likely locations where the Breemerstrol will show up so I can arrange for a suitable reception party.

Ignore him, Milarno blustered.

You can trust me more than you can trust them, said Alistrade. Believe me.

I know, said Barford, and he stared hard at Alistrade while he considered the offer.

Sanjeray! Valdez cajoled Barford, before turning to wheedling. Sanjeray, we got a business deal. What ya thinks gonna happen when you get back to Lindsford?

We got friends, Milarno threatened. Powerful friends.

I got friends, too, Barford countered, though he didn’t sound so confident.

Your mother’s friends, Valdez corrected.

And you ain’t Varinia, Milarno added with a cruel undertone. You only got this gig thanks to us.

Is this any way to pay us back? Valdez asked in a petulant voice.

As Barford’s scowl deepened, Alistrade cut in before the argument got out of hand. Why don’t I make a deal with both of you. Added protection in case we do run into Darnstorn, plus, for you two, he offered Milarno and Valdez his sincerest smile, when we catch up to the Victorious, you help me take it out and we all share in its salvage. That has to be worth a whole lot more than what you’d get from a few freighters. Don’t forget, there’ll be some willing buyers at Carogete right now.

Milarno and Valdez studied each other and Alistrade watched the subtle greed spread over their faces, then both turned to Barford and each gave in with a reluctant shrug. Alistrade tried not to laugh as he closed the call. That was the trouble with this type of vermin. Once a guttersnipe, always a guttersnipe, and for the time being, he’d have to watch his back. But then, he was used to that.

Still smiling, he sent Bahn the good news.

CHAPTER 3

Bahn had to admit that success really did rely a lot on luck. Without it, all the brilliant planning in the universe might as well be pissed up against the wall.

And for whatever reason, Lady Luck had decided to lay one on him.

First, Alistrade’s remarkable message had sent his mood soaring, but with most of his fleet dispatched into the Octet, he didn’t have the resources to cover all the possible locations where the Breemerstrol might show up. He needed to go, but the Leetopic stuck to him harder than the thirsty derker that had tried to suck the blood out of him on that hot arid Durgette day. Stupidly, he had ignored his father. He had wondered off alone into the gypsum dunes in search of any outcrops of volcanic ash containing the rare purplish Durgette moonstone. Fame and fortunes’ siren calls should have taken him, but Lady Luck had taken pity. His father had heard his scream and drilled a neat hole through the little nine-legged critter’s body before it could slake its thirst.

That hard lesson hadn’t been lost on the adolescent boy.

Absentmindedly, he rubbed the three scars on his right thigh where the derker had latched on with its fangs. Just when he thought he was going to miss his chance, a Klev ship had done a fly by. And so, his luck changed. The Leetopic had chased after the Klev and he had slipped away.

And now, on the edge of Zhivar space, he was nearly one switch away from the blue giant where this Sanjeray Barford had predicted Darnstorn was heading and where a Breemerstrol should arrive first.

But Lady Luck teased him.

The Slayer switched back to Normal-space and an alarm rang out. Nearer to his destination vector, but closer into the old star’s reddish surface, a Breemerstrol ship faced off with a Klev ship. Then a window popped up in his cabin’s wall display.

What should we do? the Slayer’s captain asked.

Bahn’s switch-chair released him with a snap, and he floated free. Uncertain, he scratched his head. Clearly, the Breemerstrol was about to head for the star this Sanjeray Barford had provided, but the Klev complicated matters. Was it following the Breemerstrol or trying to interfere?

Let’s wait, he decided. It was risky, especially if the two began fighting, and he didn’t want to be caught in the crossfire. Why don’t you leave? he muttered at the Klev, but it seemed the Breemerstrol heard him. It backed away and rotated to a stop on the vector, then disappeared.

Damn, Bahn muttered, but as he went to order the captain to follow the Breemerstrol, the captain cut in.

Sir, the Klev is heading toward us. I think it’s going to attack. We need to depart.

Bahn hesitated. The captain was right, but even as he went to give the order, he saw another possibility. Try contacting it, he decided, and say we have some information that may interest the Zhivar and would like to make a deal.

Zhivar, Sir? The captain frowned. But don’t the Klev work for the Aroglan?

Yes, but they don’t know we know that. As he waited, he shook his head and couldn’t help smiling. Lady Luck had wrong-footed him. Since he wanted to contact another alien race to make a deal, did it matter which one? And how perfect would it be if he managed to undercut Darnstorn at the same time?

The soft hiss of static noise started up and he knew the captain had made contact. In the display, the Klev ship slowed to a crawl.

Sir, the captain announced, the Klevian trader, Frie... He frowned as he listened. Friewardefark will listen to your proposal.

Klev are curious, whined a mishmash of disemboweled masculine voices, each full of angst and pain and terror. What information do you have to trade?

My name is Bahn Deeto—

You are the leader of the Trithium Octet faction opposing the Efiel Darnstorn and Salma Neilor Federation factions?

Yes, Bahn admitted. He knew he was being a little blasé with the risk and he should have considered that the Klevian might just nab him and hand him over to Darnstorn, but the greater the risk, the bigger the prize. But first, I want to know. Are you associated with the Zhivar? I wish to contact them.

You are correct, Friewardefark replied after a few seconds. What information do you have that might interest the Zhivar?

Bahn broke into a grin. Lies were useful only if they were believed, and if the Klev thought he was that naive, then that was their mistake. "I know about the object the Zhivar want to recover — the one involved with the incident at the quark stars, which destroyed all those research stations. Let’s just say, I know about Salma Neilor’s offer that Arkley Saundier delivered, and I know the Breemerstrol have been trying to