Kalan was vaguely amused to note that the Zeren ship was sufficiently larger than the Ankala Rising that he could drag his feet in going somewhere he didn’t especially want to go. It wasn’t any particular reluctance to do what he knew he had to do when he got there. He’d committed to that before left his own ship. It was what came after that he hadn’t decided on, and he didn’t like going into a situation without having at least a general plan of action. Yet, even on the bigger ship, he found himself out of the brig all too soon. He stood outside that door for nearly five minutes, trying to make a decision, before he grew impatient with himself. He knew his next step. That was enough for now. Finally feeling the resolve that he depended on so much in his life, he stepped into the brig.

Banjin Colle was sitting in one of the cells with an expression that hovered in a place somewhere between mild concern and mild boredom. The restraints were still on his wrists, although Kalan suspected it wouldn’t have given the spy much trouble to escape them. For that matter, Kalan was a little surprised that the man was still in his cell. If anyone would know how to get out of a Zeren brig cell, it would be someone like Banjin Colle. Since the man was still sitting in his cell, he either had something he wanted to talk about, or he was waiting for a more opportune moment to escape. Colle gave Kalan an appraising look when he walked in but said nothing.

Semmes was inside the next cell, bound hand and foot, with a gag secured over his mouth. Kalan hadn’t known what to make of the fact that the brig had gags like that in what appeared to be a regulation locker designed for their storage. At the very least, he didn’t like what it implied about how the Zeren’s treated their prisoners. All the same, it had been a useful discovery. The last thing that Kalan had needed was Semmes issuing verbal commands to the onboard AI. When Semmes saw Kalan, he tried shouting around the gag with no success, but his fury was clear enough from the way his face turned dark red, and a vein pulsed in the man’s forehead. Kalan stood outside the cell and considered the man. He found he had no feelings one way or the other about what was going to happen next.

Kalan went over the controls and opened the cell. He drew his sword and walked over to the bound captain, who no longer looked furious, but afraid. Kalan cut the bonds around Semmes’ ankles and then hauled the man to his feet. Semmes had apparently committed to making his escape attempt right then and there because he lashed out at Kalan with a kick. Kalan wasn’t impressed with the captain’s speed or form. He sidestepped out of the way and drove his fist into Semmes’ chest hard enough that he felt a rib give way. The already off-balance captain went down hard and the back of his head connected with the hard floor. By the time the ousted captain had regained his senses, Kalan was half-marching, half-dragging the captain through the corridors. Semmes tried to jerk away when he saw the airlock, understanding what was about to happen to him. That put extra pressure on Kalan’s injured leg and anger flared in him. Most days, Kalan would have clamped down on that anger the instant it reared its head. That day, though, he’d been through enough that he embraced the anger. He seized Semmes’ collar and ran him face-first into the nearest bulkhead.

The impact broke Semmes’ nose and left the man stunned. Kalan hauled the wobbling man to the airlock, opened the hatch, and threw him in. Semmes managed to get back to his feet and pounded on the other side of the airlock door. Kalan could see the whites of the man’s eyes and the way his mouth moved behind the gag. It didn’t take any special insight to understand that the man was screaming in fear, or anger, or both. Kalan watched the man with a cold, impassive gaze for a few moments. Then, he reached out to the control panel. Semmes’ screaming and pounding grew more frantic. Kalan looked the doomed captain in the eye as he pressed a button on the control pad. The outer airlock opened and sucked Semmes into space. Kalan didn’t feel any particular satisfaction from the action. It had just been a necessary task. He supposed he could have chosen a less terrifying way for the man to die, but Semmes had ordered an assault on the Ankala Rising and gotten a lot of people killed for no good reason. He hadn’t really deserved a less terrifying death.

Unfortunately, with that task done, he still had to decide what he was going to do about the spy. He walked back to the brig and stepped inside. He picked up the lone chair in the room, carried it over to Colle’s cell, and sat down in it. The spy looked at him and frowned.

“Where’s Semmes?” asked Colle.

“He outside getting some fresh air.”

The spy didn’t panic, but he did grow several shades paler. “I see. Will I also be taking a walk outside?”

“I haven’t decided yet. I have questions for you. Depending on how you answer, you might join Semmes, or you might not.”

“Very well.”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“Back on Hasen 5,” said Kalan, “you shouted a word at me. It’s a word you shouldn’t know. Where did you learn it?”

To Kalan’s surprise, the spy actually looked relieved. “I learned it from my grandfather when he was training me as a child. Knowing what I know now, I assume he was like you. Someone who trained as a Warder Under the Night, but somehow isn’t beholden to them. Is it a choice? Can you decide to leave?”

“No one chooses to leave. You can be cast out, exiled. It’s rare, but it happens. It’s not something my world, my former world, advertises. For obvious reasons, I would think.”

“I wouldn’t think that they’d want it known that there were former Warders Under the Night out there who could be hired,” said Colle. “Although, with those kinds of skills, why wouldn’t you want to advertise it?”

Kalan snorted. “You and that Ikaren women think exactly the same way. She asked me practically the same question.”

“She’s very competent,” said Colle.

“Not really,” said Kalan. “Her combat skills are mostly adequate, but her lack of emotional control is going to get her killed one day.”

“I see,” said Colle with a look on his face that said he was reorganizing a lot of information in his head.

“Do you know what’s on the data crystal?” Kalan asked.

Colle shook his head. “No, not specifically. I know it’s research. I know it’s classified. I wasn’t briefed on the specifics. I didn’t need to know.”

“I suspect this is one time when you probably should have asked more questions.”

“You managed to decrypt it?”

“I did.”

“What was on it?”

“A doomsday weapon. A weapon that will drive a star through its life cycle in a matter of hours. One meant for the Ikaren system.”

Unlike Temera, Banjin Colle had very good emotional control, but even he couldn’t fully hide his horror as the implications settled on him.

“That’s unspeakable,” said Colle, seemingly at a loss for anything else to say.

“That’s the side you picked,” said Kalan idly. “Since we’re on the topic of unspeakable things, though, let’s chat about this.”

Kalan reached into a pocket and pulled out the Zeren tracker. He held it up. Banjin stared at the little statue for a long time before he met Kalan’s eyes.

“I just spaced a man for kidnapping one of my crew,” Kalan said. “You, though. You set this catastrophe in motion. You used that young woman to do it. You, who it seems, should have known better. You, at least, should have realized what kind of consequences would follow such behaviors. So, tell me, Banjin Colle, what do you think I intend to do with you?”

Banjin didn’t look away. “Something grisly, I should imagine.”

“I considered it. But I think I’m going to do something worse than kill you.”

A few minutes later, Banjin stood inside a life pod. He gave Kalan a perplexed look.

“I don’t understand. How is this worse than a grisly murder?”

“I’m going to let you live, Banjin Colle,” said Kalan, tossing the spy the tracker. “Given your government’s proclivities for gross overreaction and blunt object solutions, I doubt they’ll show the same kind of restraint. Especially after a failure like this. Try as I might, I sincerely doubt I could dream up anything worse than what they’ll do to you while they look for answers. If you talk fast enough, though, maybe you’ll survive.”

Colle just stared down at that statue like he wished he’d never seen the thing before as Kalan closed the pod door and sent it on its way. Once the spy was gone, Kalan made his way up to the bridge. He might have talked tough to Colle, but he had no desire to bump into more, and better-armed, Zeren ships. Especially not after he commandeered one of their naval vessels. He didn’t imagine they were going to forget that anytime soon. He had Cera open a channel to the Ankala Rising. Before he could even get a word out, Temera was all but yelling at him.

“Are you finally ready to get out of this gods forsaken hellhole?”

“Yes,” said Kalan with his usual calm. “We head for Cobalt 7, and then on to Ikaren space.”

“Why the pit stop?” asked Temera, sounding much calmer now that Kalan was ready to go.

“There are people there who would be easy targets for the Zerens. I intend to bring them or, barring that, warn them. This isn’t negotiable Temera.”

“You and your code.”

“Tread lightly,” said Kalan. “That code is the only reason you’re not in one of those pods waiting for the Zerens. We are not friends, spy.”

Kalan could almost hear Temera swallow over the communication channel. “I understand.”

“Good. Em?”

“Yes, captain?” asked the robot over the channel.

“Lead us in. You know the destination.”

Em fed Cera very detailed navigation information that let her guide the ship safely into the wormhole network. As they passed into the network, Kalan once again felt that awful sensation of being nowhere. Somehow, it felt deeper, and darker, and more threatening than it ever had before. Yet, Kalan understood that it wasn’t the place that had grown darker, but the galaxy that had grown darker. Or, he thought, maybe it was always this dark, and I was just shielded by ignorance. That shield had been ripped away from him. As much as he had hoped that he’d be able to go back to his boring life of moving freight, he suspected that it would never be so simple again. He'd drawn too much attention, however unintentionally. Dangerous people, to say nothing of dangerous governments, knew who he was. They knew what he was. There would be no escaping that truth. Maybe there never had been a real escape, merely an interlude of peace before the universe demanded its due from him. Kalan’s hand reflexively tightened around the hilt of his sword. If so, then he would be ready. There was no other choice.

~The End~

Kalan Rinn will return in

Rinn’s Run: The Ikaren Gambit.