Cradle of War (A Captain's Crucible Book 3) (14 page)

B
arrick approached the airlock of the berthing area, and waited while the Raakarr with him authorized the outer hatch to open.

Inside awaited a crew member in a spacesuit. There were no escorting combat robots: their absence would place the Raakarr guards more at ease, which was precisely what Barrick wanted.

He stared at the lone spacesuit. Those outfits were the great equalizers: their bulk hid male and female forms while enhancing strength. No matter what your gender or physical capability, a spacesuit made you exactly the same as every other human—discounting the specialized exoskeletons of the special forces, of course.

One thing the suits could not hide were the faces, however. Actually, that wasn’t entirely true—some people employed suits with one-way displays that could replace the owner’s face with another. But that was not the case with the woman who stood before him.

Behind the faceplate her exotic features readily stood out. He would have recognized those high cheekbones, pouty lips, and that immaculate nose anywhere. Throw in those expertly trimmed eyebrows above the steel blue eyes, with tanned skin framed by jet black hair... she was perfection embodied. The culmination of a billion years of evolution.

“Hello,” Barrick said, his voice shaking very slightly. “Thank you for agreeing to meet me.”

“Captain Dallas gave me an order,” the woman said over the comm. She sounded bored. “So here I am.”

“But you could have refused that order,” Barrick insisted.

“Hardly. He’s my commanding officer.”

Barrick smiled sightly. “In any case, I’m glad you’re here.”

“Right.” Sil stepped from the airlock. “Can we get on with this?”

“Certainly. This way.” The hatch closed behind them, and Barrick followed the two Raakarr through the passageways. Sil strode at his side.

“You’re supposed to be pretending you’re ill,” Barrick told her.

“I doubt the Raakarr could tell either way,” Sil said. “Our physiology is just as alien to them as theirs is to us.”

Will the Organism make it to the examination room?
one of the guards asked him mentally. Barrick called that one Banjo, because the ancient musical instrument was the closest match to the image the guard returned when Barrick asked his name.

The Organism will make it
, Barrick replied. He could have mentally substituted the word ‘human’ for Organism, but the strange looking three-dimensional point cloud that the Raakarr sent to his mind was not specific to human beings—the aliens had used it to describe other species in the past, including the Elder.

Good
, Banjo said.
I don’t want to have to carry the repulsive thing.

Never fear,
Barrick returned.
If it comes to it, I shall carry the Organism.
If only.

“Are you talking to them right now?” Sil asked.

“A little bit,” Barrick admitted.

“What about?”

“They’re wondering if they’ll have to carry you,” Barrick said. “I told them no.”

“Probably a good thing,” Sil said. Barrick thought she shuddered behind her faceplate.

“For a xenobiologist, you seem to have a remarkable aversion to these aliens,” Barrick said.

“Is it that obvious?” Sil asked. “You forget I spent some quality time as their prisoner. We were treated worse than cattle. They treat us little better even now.”

“The Raakarr are doing the best they can, under the circumstances,” Barrick said.

“Are they? Plumbing and running water would be nice.”

“I’m sorry that your quarters lack the usual amenities you’re used to,” Barrick said. “But you do realize the concepts of plumbing and running water are foreign to the Raakarr?”

“I suppose so,” Sil said. The two walked in silence for a few moments.

“Why me?” Sil asked suddenly. “You could have chosen any one of the team. But you chose me. Why?”

“To be frank,” Barrick replied. “I find you attractive.”

“Ah.” She sounded uncomfortable. “Ordinarily I appreciate frankness, but in this case you should have lied. I was hoping for something along the lines of, you admire my command ability, or my smarts, or my quick wits.”

“Those too, of course,” Barrick said.

“Though my looks are what sealed the deal.”

“Yes,” Barrick admitted. “I do apologize if I’d made a social faux pas by telling the truth. I have to admit, I never was the best at socializing. I often live inside my head, as you might imagine.”

“No it’s fine,” Sil said. “At least you’re honest. In the past, I’ve had officers promote me for my ‘abilities,’ and then all of a sudden they expected me to sleep with them in thanks.”

“Tell me who they are,” her father said over the comm. “So I can hunt them down and kill them.”

His voice reminded Barrick that they weren’t truly alone. Captain Dallas and the crew were listening and observing. Barrick had to be on his best behavior.

Sil must have muted him, because her mouth still moved behind her faceplate, but he couldn’t hear her words.

Barrick glanced at the overhead map the aReal overlaid onto his vision. Up ahead lay a section of the ship that was currently “blacked out” to the on-board AI due to damage sustained in the last battle. Though none of the Zarafe faction members had said so outright, Barrick had inferred as much from his mind discussions with Valor and other aliens.

Barrick had convinced his guards to take a long detour through that section at one point, and he discovered several interesting fixtures in the blacked-out area. One of them was an out-of-the way armory.

“Be ready,” Barrick sent to Sil.

The small party reached the aforementioned section. The dark disks that were omnipresent throughout the ship were completely black there. He was convinced those disks were the AI’s sensors, and that black meant they were offline. Good. He was worried that the repair units had finally made it down there, but they likely had higher priority areas to deal with first.

The group approached a side passageway. “Now,” he told her over the comm.

Sil silently broke away from the party, moving deeper into the black-out area. Earlier, Barrick had transmitted the full map of the region to her. She knew precisely where to go.

Good luck, Sil.

Barrick continued after the Raakarr guards, who had yet to notice her absence. He kept their minds occupied with idle discussion.

S
IL HURRIED DOWN the side passage, making her way toward the armory marked on the map. She paused beside each bend to peer past first, as the last thing she wanted to do was to run into another Raakarr while she was alone and unarmed in those corridors. Who could say what the thing would do to her? It wouldn’t care that she was a renowned xenobiologist, and she wouldn’t be surprised if she was ripped limb from limb, giving her a lesson in her own biology.

“They’ve realized you’re absent,” Barrick said over the comm. “We’re heading down the side passage after you. Hurry up.”

“Almost there,” she said.

She glanced at the map. Only one final bend lay before her and the armory. She approached the corner and carefully leaned past.

A dark mist floated there, watching the armory.

“Barrick, there’s a guard here,” Sil sent. “Can you get rid of it?”

An instant later the dark mist accelerated toward her. She ducked behind the bend.

“What the hell did you tell it?” While she retreated, she glanced at the map and saw that a side passageway up ahead doubled-back and came to the armory from the other direction. She decided to take it.

“I haven’t actually transmitted anything yet,” Barrick replied.

“The alien must have seen me, then,” Sil said.
Or you betrayed us.

She doubled back down the side passage and approached the armory from the other side. When she reached the bend in the passageway just before the armory, she slowly drove her helmet past the edge: the black fog was gone.

She hurried into the passageway.

“The hatch is closed,” she sent Barrick.

“Stand in front of it for a moment,” Barrick replied. “Because the AI is offline there, the hatches are hardwired to automatically open after a few seconds.”

Sure enough the hatch swiveled aside. She hurried into the compartment beyond. Around her lay strange layered holding units that could best be described as hexagonal shelves. They were full of alien gear. She spotted a unit full of the darkness generators and immediately scooped one up, securing it out of sight beneath her harness.

She considered grabbing some of the other strange items, but most were too bulky. She had what she had come for, and felt no need to press her luck, as it were.

“Got it,” she sent Barrick. “I’m heading out.”

She stepped from the armory.

The living mist of a lone Raakarr hovered there in the passageway beside her.

B
ARRICK HURRIED FORWARD, leading the two guards.

Shortly after Sil had departed, the guards realized she was no longer with the group. They made Barrick turn around immediately, and Banjo demanded to know why he had not reported her absence.

I only noticed myself a moment ago,
Barrick had lied.
The Organism was falling behind because of its illness, and when I looked back to check, the Organism was gone.

Talk to it with your communication device!
Banjo had said.

The Organism is not answering,
Barrick had replied.
I cannot determine its position.

Barrick had only retraced his steps for a few moments when Sil’s voice came over the comm. “Got it. I’m heading out.”

Banjo sent him another message almost immediately thereafter:
The Organism has been spotted
.
This way.

The dark mist of Banjo thrust past him and took point, while the other Raakarr kept the drag position.

“Sil, what’s happening?” he sent.

She didn’t reply.

Since the AI was offline there, the only way she could have been spotted was if another Raakarr had seen her—likely the armory guard she had mentioned. A sudden fear gripped Barrick, and he hoped Sil was all right. In the few times he had lived through the current moment, not once had the Zarafe ever left a guard in front of the armory.

He wasn’t sure what that meant.

Barrick and the two Raakarr moved deeper into the black-out region, rounding several bends as they neared the location where he had marked the armory on his map.

And then the group turned one final corner and Sil stood there, the dark mist of another Raakarr towering over her. She had her arm assemblies extended, palms out, and she was slowly retreating from the advancing alien.

Barrick hurried forward, squeezing past Banjo and the Raakarr that loomed above her, and he grasped her by the shoulders, screening her with his body.

“Quickly!” he said. “Give it to me!”

She retrieved the tartaan from her harness and furtively passed it into his glove. He turned from her, palming the device.

Step away,
Banjo said.
Ask the Organism what it was doing here.