Traitor (Rebel Stars Book 2) (33 page)

"To run away." Rada kept her expression neutral. "Because we'd have no chance to win."

"Correct."

"Like when we flew into the Kuiper Belt to provoke the aliens into attacking us and proving they mean us harm."

Toman's face darkened. "I believe you've played a trick on me."

"There's always a chance. You just have to take it."

"Then let's hope we haven't found your limits yet." He gave her a wink. "Gotta run. Good luck."

The connection closed. She swiveled to face Webber and MacAdams.

"Yep," Webber said.

"Right here," MacAdams said.

"Let's go to work."

The FinnTech detachment was already passing to port, flying far enough away to render an exchange of missiles pointless. What was protocol for engaging manned fighters who were significantly faster than you? This situation hadn't existed since the very first days of space, when hard caps on motion hadn't been determined by the frailties of the human body, but by primitive engines and fuel.

Toman's forces outnumbered the MA-equipped ships more than three times over, but if he tried to engage them, they'd dance back. Meanwhile, any diversion of course would allow FinnTech's trailing fleet to get closer. If she had a few more ships like the
Tine
, she might be able to corral the squad into a devastating encounter with the Hive's vessels, but she couldn't even split up their ship without sacrificing the speed they'd need to be effective.

Hang on. She didn't have
manned
fighters. But she didn't need them.

She reopened the comm. "Toman. How many drones do we have left?"

His face appeared on one of her screens. "About enough to field a baseball team. We burned almost all of them back at the Hive."

"I need everything you've got. And I need a quick strategy programmed for them."

"LOTR's here on the ship with me. Coding this up is the least they can do for me saving their lives. What've you got in mind?" He listened as she explained. When she finished, he didn't look particularly hopeful, but he wasn't cussing at her for wasting his time, either. "I'll put them to work. Shouldn't be more than a few minutes."

The FinnTech advance squad was now well past the Hive fleet, angling in from the side to put themselves directly ahead. Once they were in position, the ships began to fire a staccato of kinetics. They aimed no more than a speckle of rounds at each Hive vessel, but it was enough to force a small adjustment. After a few repeats, these adjustments induced adjustments of their own, rippling through the fleet. Behind them, the enemy gained ground.

"All set," Toman said, jarring her from her passive observation.

"Let's give it another minute or three," Rada said. "See if they'll come at us with missiles. The more they waste on the fleet, the better my chances with the drones."

The FinnTech ships held position, sniping continuously. They showed no indications of wanting to engage. Smart play. They had nothing but time. And with the Locker en route, the Hive's window to escape the noose was running out.

"They're not biting." Rada nudged the
Tine
forward. "Launch all drones."

41 drones surged forth. Against the nineteen FinnTech ships—equipped with MAs, and far more heavily armed—Rada had no illusions about her chance of outright victory. If she could take down enough, though, the fleet might be able to overwhelm them with missiles.

The drones advanced in a loosely spaced plane. The enemy took a similar formation, buying themselves space to work with, minimizing the chance of losing too much to a surprise gambit. A few missiles flicked back and forth. As the mini-fleet entered engagement range, Rada sent the signal.

The drones converged on each other like an explosion filmed in reverse. Tightly bunched, they ran full burn at the nearest fighter. Missiles streamed from their bows. Far too many for one ship to defend. Within seconds, the target was consumed in a flaming cloud.

Acting as one, the drones had already snapped toward the next fighter. It turned hard, attempting to grab enough space for its wingmen's missiles to join the defense. Badly outgunned, it too vanished in the fire. The drones pounced on a third ship, but the FinnTech fighters were adapting, pulling back, hammering the drones with missiles. So tightly bunched, any evasive maneuver simply exposed a different drone to the threat. They lost five before the third fighter went down.

Rada gave the command to pull back the drones. They withdrew, scattering to a more orthodox formation. With her one piece of trickery spent, the fight degraded to a down and dirty dogfight. She weaved in and out of the drones, trying to pressure the enemy into drifting closer to Toman's slower fleet, but the fighters held discipline. Her numbers dwindled to thirty, then twenty. With thirteen FinnTech vessels remaining, she thought they'd be lucky to ace three more before she was forced to retreat to the Hive formation.

Without warning, the enemy fighters broke off their engagements, arcing away in an all-out retreat.

"The hell?" Rada said.

Webber whooped. "Ask them how our shoe tastes!"

"This makes no sense. If they'd hung on for another minute, we'd be the ones retreating."

"Low on missiles?" MacAdams said. "Had to bug out before they ran out."

"If they were running low, they concealed it well. It's almost like…" A pit opened in Rada's stomach. As she reached for the dash, the comm pinged. She called up the long-range view at the same time Toman spoke.

"Well done." His smile was as thin as thin got. "Now get back here. The Locker's incoming."

"Roger," she said leadenly. On the screen, a new fleet hurtled toward the Hive's course. Nearly sixty more ships, fully loaded with missiles and drones.

22

Kansas flopped to the ground with an airy groan. Blood squirted from a hole high on her back, pure red against the white of her shirt. Numbness swept through Ced's body. Kansas sputtered, gave a small shriek. He stepped over her, arm shaking. Though he knew there were people on the other side of the door, the office was soundproofed. She could scream her head off and no one would be the wiser.

She rolled onto her back. The shot had exited her chest. Tears flooding her eyes, she began to laugh. "You're going to shoot me."

He willed his arm to rise, aiming the pistol at her chest. "I already did."

"I mean you're going to
kill
me." She laughed more. "How are you doing this?"

"You made it easy."

"Oh, don't get all righteous." She pushed herself up on one elbow, wincing. Her shirt was damp with blood. "Have you heard what your special buddies at the Hive did?"

"Kansas, don't—"

"
Listen
. They flew out past the end of everything, knowing no one had ever come back. That the aliens were out there and that those aliens would kill them. They didn't care. They were
looking
for that fight. If that was what it took to shock people awake, they were willing to die for it."

His finger twitched on the trigger. "After you refused to help them. Used them to turn the System against the Hive."

"I did what I had to! To keep this place safe!" She tried to push herself up. She grimaced, rocked back on her elbow. "They pushed further than anyone. They were fearless. And it made them invincible."

"Do you have a point? Other than how right I was?"

"You didn't know they had that in them. Just like I didn't think you had it in you." Kansas planted her palm on the floor and pushed, body quivering, cords standing out from her neck. She sat up, got her knees beneath her, and stood, facing him. "Do you know what the most powerful weapon in the universe is? It isn't guns, or ships, or magic alien technology. It's the will to do what has to be done."

"The point," he said. "Last chance."

"I believe we can do this. Knock out Valiant together. Do you want to try?"

"Let me get this straight. Before, you thought I was an idiot. Then I shot you. And now you think I'm brilliant."

"Correct."

"Maybe I'm not as smart as you think," he said. "Because my presumption is you're only saying this so I don't finish the job."

She laughed some more, shakily, her face gone waxy. "Were you listening to a word I said? I didn't believe you had the will to do this. But the moment that bullet entered my back, I knew I was wrong."

"Do you have any idea how crazy you are?" Ced's throat caught. "This is a trap, right? If I say yes, and don't shoot you, that proves I don't have it after all. That I'm still a chump."

"That's the way I would have looked at it five minutes ago."

He blinked away the blurriness in his eyes. "Then how can I know I can trust you?"

"You can't." She took a step toward him, faltering, clutching at her bleeding shoulder. Somehow, she managed to grin. "Want to anyway?"

* * *

"ETA ten minutes," Yenna announced from the helm. "And it looks like it won't be a second too soon."

Ced's gaze skipped between the innumerable screens plastering the bridge. Other than the physical views of space, and the ships dancing and dying in the distance, he had no idea what he was looking at. Colors, lines, abstract shapes—Kansas had tried to explain how these represented courses, ships of various classification, and the missiles and drones they flung at each other so fast it was like the weapons were about to hit their expiration date. All her words had gone in one ear and out the other.

He was usually much spongier than that. Then again, the sad state of his brain could have something to do with the scores of warships they were currently streaking toward.

"Any sign they're wise?" Kansas said.

Yenna shook her head, stirring the long strands of hair that swept from her brow to her jaw. "Either they're still in the dark, or you'd never want to play poker with them."

"If she wanted their money, she wouldn't gamble with them," Ced said. "She'd kick out their knees and grab their wallet."

Yenna turned to give him a look. "Get a room."

The ship sped on. As far as he could tell, they were near the rear of the formation, ensconced in a nondescript vessel that might have started its life as a light cargo hauler. Now, after years of battles and modifications, it was pure predator. One of the Dragons' jewels, the
Tiamat
. He suspected it was the ship Kansas had crewed on after leaving the Fightin' Iguanas years ago.

There was no strategic reason for him or her to be here. Kansas was certain that neither Iggi Daniels, owner of Valiant Enterprises, nor her partner Thor Finn would be present. That had been the exact reason Kansas had been so insistent on being here with the Locker's fleet.

"They won't be there because they're not certain they'll win," Kansas had said shortly after they'd departed the Locker. "And that's the reason they'll lose."

On the screen, the Valiant/FinnTech armada grew nearer. The lights of the Hive's ships twinkled ahead.

The comm blinked. Kansas opened the line, conjuring up the angular, creased face of Admiral Duwes, Valiant's commander. "Admiral Carruth. A pleasure to have you with us."

"What's the scene?" Kansas said.

"Our last update remains relevant. The Hive's forces are battered and depleted. Ready to be eradicated. However, your approach vector shows some inefficiencies. I have taken the liberty of sending corrections."

Kansas pulled these up on another screen, studying the spaghetti-like tangle of lines. "Yeah, here's the thing, Duwes. I was talking this over with my people, and they said that your strategy is—and I had to clean this up a little for you—fucking bonkers. Puts way too much risk on our shoulders."

The man's dark brows rose like bat wings. "Perhaps they fail to appreciate the losses we have already incurred, and the advantages you will bear as a fully supplied fleet."

"Here's what they suggested instead." She flicked her hand over a device, sending a packet of info over the comm. "Humor me, will you?"

Duwes' eyes scrolled to the right and skipped to the left as he read. Irritated lines folded his brow and cheeks. On the screens, the two forces drifted nearer and nearer.

The admiral turned his gaze back to Kansas. "I hardly think now is the time to amend our agreed-upon strategy. You will proceed as ordered."

"Ordered?" The edge in her voice was as slight as a breeze in the self-contained atmosphere of the Locker. But Ced heard it. And the hair stood up along his spine.

"At the Locker, perhaps you are used to doing whatever you like. Out here, however, you are beholden to the chain of command. Continue this insubordination at your peril."

"Don't like my idea, huh, Duwey? Then here's another suggestion." Kansas tapped something into her device, then smiled into the comm. "Die."

The Locker's ships swerved as one. Already within the faint green sphere of the engagement zone—Ced had picked up that much, at least—they lit the tactical display with a galaxy of missiles.

All aimed at the Valiant/FinnTech armada.

On the comm, Duwes' face went ashen. "What are you
doing
?"

"Breaking my chains."

"You are a Vandal! A traitor!"

"Betrayal's for friends," Kansas said. "When the slaves turn on you, it's called a rebellion."

The first of the missiles slashed into their targets.

* * *

Rada's brain, unable to identify what her eyes were presenting her, tossed out potential explanations: that the missiles spearing from the Locker's vessels were part of some strange ruse to trick the Hive's defenses, or that they weren't actually missiles at all.

Then the FinnTech fighters bent away from the incoming strikes, launching rockets of their own. The first ship vaporized. And Webber began to laugh.

"No! Fucking!
Way!
" With each word, Rada pounded the dash with her fist. Webber and MacAdams stood, thumping each other on the back, jumping in place. Before she knew what was happening, she was on her feet with them, pogoing up and down, shoulders jostling, losing herself to the moment.