Dark Deeds (Class 5 Series Book 2) Read online

  “Would you like me to sing happy birthday to her?” Fee liked the idea. There was no way back home. She'd made peace with that after the first two weeks on the Fasbe.

  The Grih had so far treated her well, and seemed to hold Rose McKenzie in some regard, although she sensed a little fear, or perhaps awe, where Rose was concerned, as well.

  If she could find a place among them, and make some friends, it was more than she ever expected to have since she'd woken in the Fasbe's holding cell.

  The most she'd hoped for a day ago was a quick death.

  Pila glanced at her, and she could see he was pleased with her offer. He gave a nod. “That would be kind. She was badly hurt by the Krik we were chasing and she's in one of the med chambers for another day before she can be released.”

  Fee recalled Vakeri saying three of his team had been injured in their encounter with Gerwa and his crew.

  “How about I finish breakfast, and we can head over there?” The idea of something constructive to do, a way to make friends and form connections, was so exciting, she realized how starved she'd been of it. She'd taken the work she'd done on Earth, the life she'd had, not for granted, exactly, but she hadn't realized how vital it had been to her own personal happiness.

  Well, she wasn't taking it for granted any more.

  Carpe diem. She was going to seize the day.

  10

  “Captain Vakeri, I have yet to make contact with United Council headquarters.” Councilor Vilk stood in front of Hal, more agitated than Hal had seen the Garmman since he'd walked into Tak's conference room and caught sight of Fiona Russell.

  Hal knew the feeling.

  “Farspace comms are down for all of us, Councilor. Gerbardi was up most of the night trying different ways to send out a signal, but nothing seems to be getting through.”

  Vilk blew out a breath. “It must be being deliberately blocked.”

  Hal agreed, but Gerbardi wasn't prepared to commit himself one way or the other. “It's highly unlikely to be natural interference. But there's an outside chance it is. The problem could also be on Battle Center's side.”

  Like if the Tecran had somehow taken out one of Battle Center's major signal arrays. This year, the United Council headquarters was on the Bukari home world, and they would be using Battle Center arrays to communicate through Grih airspace. It would explain why they couldn't reach either organization.

  Vilk gaped at him, as if considering this for the first time. “But Battle Center has never gone down . . .”

  He trailed off, as if finally understanding the possible implications if it had gone down.

  Hal shook off the thought. “Most likely, it's on our side, not theirs.”

  Vilk held out his handheld. “My staff waiting for me on Larga Ways tell me they can't contact the United Council, either.”

  Hal knew. They'd tried to relay their messages through Battle Center's office on Larga Ways, only to find the orbital had lost communications with headquarters and the United Council at the same time as they had.

  “We're so close to Larga Ways, whatever is affecting us, it makes sense it's affecting them, as well.” All true. But Hal still couldn't completely shrug off the fear that the Tecran could have thrown diplomacy and their arguments for peace out the window and simply attacked the Grih and shut down the United Council while everyone's guard was down. They still had three Class 5s under their control, after all.

  Right now, he was operating under the assumption that anything was possible.

  “How close are we to our destination?” Vilk asked, his tone far less strident now.

  “Another day. The going is a little slow, but we can't help that.” The mining vessel had finally joined them five hours ago, and they'd gotten underway at last, cruising at their lowest speed toward Larga Ways. By the time they got there, hopefully comms would had been restored, or someone, somewhere, would have gotten a message out.

  If the interference was on the Illium's side, if someone was blocking them, Battle Center would send a small battle cruiser to check on them. Hal wanted that cruiser to appear as soon as possible. It would mean all was well with the four planets.

  Voa was constantly running scans, looking for any hint of enemy ships in their vicinity, but so far she'd come up with nothing but the odd merchant trader or mining vessel.

  It didn't help that they would soon be at the very edge of Grih airspace, right on the Garmman border.

  There'd be at least a few Garmman battleships waiting for Vilk, and the closer they got to Larga Ways and the planet Balco, the more difficult it would be to distinguish genuine Garmman escorts from possible enemies.

  This mission had seemed straightforward when he'd been given it. Pick Councilor Vilk up in Larga Ways, deliver him to the Grih government buildings that housed the administrators and leaders of the four planets, and then return him.

  He'd been part of Battle Center long enough to know nothing ever went exactly to plan, but the events of the last month had rattled even the most hardened soldiers.

  He wanted to drop Vilk off and have the councilor safely back among his own people as quickly as he could. Whether the Garmman were the Grih's allies, as they professed, or whether at least some of them were involved in quiet deals with the Tecran, the sooner they could round up the Krik and head back with Fiona, the happier he'd be.

  If Battle Center was still standing.

  “You look worried, Captain.” Vilk was watching him with a considering expression. “What do you think could be going on here?”

  “It could be the Krik.” Hal was happy to share that with Vilk, because it certainly was a possibility. He wasn't going to insult the councilor by suggesting his own people could be behind this.

  Vilk looked startled, and then tapped a thick, stubby finger to his lips. “I hadn't thought of that, but Kwo did mention they had some new technology on them that enabled them to fool your ship's systems.”

  Did he, now?

  Hal kept his face impassive, but decided he needed a word with Kwo. Part of the Fitali officer's oath on becoming a liaison officer was that he wouldn't share Grihan operational matters with anyone unless he had Hal's express permission.

  It was the only way any of the members of the United Council were prepared to accept a liaison officer on every battleship and explorer. Only the Tecran had voted against it in the end, and now that their abduction and torture of Rose McKenzie, and their illegal use of thinking systems, had come to light, everyone knew why.

  Seeing Vilk expected some sort of reaction, Hal gave a shrug. “They've definitely gotten some high tech equipment from somewhere, and when I get hold of them, you can be sure I'll be asking them about it. It's possible they've managed to get a blocker that's strong enough to disrupt our comms with Battle Center.”

  Hal didn't want to believe that, and both he and Gerbardi thought it highly unlikely, but he was happy for the councilor to think it could be true.

  If his ire was directed at the Krik, it wasn't directed at Hal and the Grih in general.

  Vilk gave a slow nod. “The Krik are getting worse every year. If they even think about applying to join the United Council again this year, I'll laugh in Haisina's face. That Krik has an absolute nerve standing there saying the pirates aren't state sanctioned. They clearly are, or Krik's planet security is no better than a sieve.”

  Hal inclined his head in agreement.

  “I'd have to say, if it is the Krik, I'd be almost relieved.” Vilk rubbed his hands together, and Hal realized he was nervous. “Kwo reminded me that in the incident I was caught up in last month, when the Tecran sent their fleet into Grihan airspace to get their Class 5 back, all comms were blocked to Battle Center then, too. And the Class 5 was responsible.” The councilor darted a quick look Hal's way, and Hal had the impression he was hoping for a strenuous denial.

  Hal shrugged. “Fiona Russell wouldn't have been living in fear for her life on the Fasbe if she had the support of a Class 5 like Rose McKenzie
did. But Kwo is quite right. It's something to keep in mind. I don't know why there would be a Class 5 around here, but it isn't impossible.”

  Vilk's hands paused their rubbing. “She was being mistreated, I agree. And we rescued her from it, so it's not the same situation as with Rose McKenzie at all. Not at all.”

  Hal had known Vilk had been with the other United Council members during the standoff the Grih had had with the Tecran a month ago, but he suddenly realized Vilk had personally met Rose.

  “What is Rose like?”

  “She was polite.” Vilk began moving his hands again. “I was so shocked at her appearance, so like the Grih, but not quite, and her obvious intelligence, I didn't take much more in.” He looked up at Hal with suddenly sly eyes. “Captain Jallan seemed very protective of her. Very solicitous. He came into a meeting we had with her, and took her away, as if we were mistreating her.” He sniffed. “Well, the Tecran councilors were being a trifle harsh, but it was civil enough.”

  At the sound of footsteps, Vilk looked up and gave an absentminded nod to Gerbardi as Hal's comms officer walked up to them.

  “I'll be in my rooms if you have any news.” Vilk turned on his heel and disappeared in the direction of his guest suite.

  Hal watched him go.

  The councilor came across as slightly self-important and a little grumpy, but mostly well-meaning and harmless. It was possible he was anything but that. It was possible he was hiding a Garmman agenda that included an alliance with the Tecran.

  And there was nothing Hal could do about it but minimize the access Vilk had without being openly rude to the councilor.

  “Trouble?” Gerbardi asked.

  Hal shook his head. “He's frustrated he can't get through to UC headquarters. He knows there's going to be huge trouble when the existence of Fiona Russell becomes known, especially as she was found on a Garmman ship. He wants to get on top of it, issue his official denials of knowledge, and the fact that he can't is eating him up.”

  Gerbardi stared after the councilor. “I had breakfast with Fiona this morning. Vilk has every right to be worried. She's so clearly an advanced sentient, as soon as she starts talking about what was done to her, Tak will be lucky ever to see the outside of a cell again, and the Garmman's reputation will be tarnished for a long time to come.”

  Hal stared at him. “She had breakfast in the officers' mess?”

  Gerbardi nodded. “It was empty, which is probably why her guards allowed it. They're very jumpy, though.”

  Hal was pleased to hear it. He wanted them on high alert.

  He supposed he couldn't expect his new guest to be confined completely to her room, or how was he any better than Tak?

  “What did she have to say?” Hal still couldn't get over that she'd gotten names and even a unit number out of the Krik. She had so far been full of surprises.

  Gerbardi shuffled, and Hal eyed his comms officer with surprise.

  “She sang.”

  Hal went still.

  He knew Rose McKenzie was a music-maker, and he heard in Fiona Russell's voice from the start that she probably had a similar talent, but Gerbardi seemed almost in agony over it.

  “Was it not a good song?” He couldn't understand why else Gerbardi would be so unhappy.

  “She sang a song for me. Especially for me, with my name in it.” He rubbed at his face. “Then she sang the same song for Pila and Carmain. It's a tradition on Earth, to sing to someone on their birthday.”

  “It's not your birthday.” Hal tried to imagine having a song sung especially for him and couldn't.

  Gerbardi shook his head. “I know. She was just showing us how the song would go. Then Pila said it was Mun's actual birthday today, so now Fiona Russell is going to sing it to her.”

  “You don't think it's a good idea?” Hal was trying to work out what was bothering Gerbardi so much.

  “It's wasteful.” Gerbardi shrugged, like he was trying to get rid of some weight on his shoulders. “A voice like that, better than anything I've ever heard, shouldn't waste itself on singing to people on their birthday. But she didn't seem to care. She seemed to think it was a good use of her voice. She was laughing. She sang for Pila even though he didn't ask her to, as if it was silly for him to hold back.”

  Gerbardi was quiet for a moment, and then he looked up at Hal. “And even though I really believe everything I've just said, having a song just for me . . .” The comms officer lifted his shoulders one last time. “I still can't get over how happy it made me.”

  He turned and walked onto the bridge, and Hal stood, torn between duty and desire. Decided there was nothing he could do on the bridge right now, and that he would very much like to hear what a birthday song sounded like.

  That Rose McKenzie and Fiona's views on singing were different to the Grih's was understandable. They were from a different world, a different culture, and one where it seemed music-makers were far more common that among the Grih. That both Fiona and Rose could sing was testament to that.

  But a song sung for an individual, using their name . . .

  He could barely wrap his mind around the idea, and understood all to well why Gerbardi was so shocked and conflicted.

  As he walked to the med chambers, he realized he was sorry his own birthday was months away, and that Fiona Russell would be long gone from his life by the time it came around.

  11

  As Fee looked past Pila into the med chamber, she saw two of the beds were occupied. A woman and a man. The man looked worse, but he sat up easily when Pila stepped into the room. The woman lifted herself more gingerly.

  There was something in the woman's face when she caught sight of Pila, a warm flush, and Fee guessed exactly why he'd had Mun on his mind when they were talking about birthdays.

  “Mun and Hadri, this is Fiona Russell, the orange we found on the Fasbe.”

  Mun put her hands together and extended them, and Fee stepped forward to clasp them. “Pleased to meet you.”

  Hadri did the same.

  “I'm curious, there's a word you used now, Pila, that I think I'm misunderstanding.” Fee really wanted to work this out. “I keep being called an orange. What on earth do you mean by that? I think my Grihan just isn't good enough to understand, but do I really look orange to you?”

  That would explain the funny looks, all right.

  There was a moment of stunned silence.

  “Technically,” Hadri said, and she could hear some discomfort in his tone, “you aren't an orange, because your species is known to us since we encountered Rose McKenzie. All unknown sentient life forms show up as orange on our scanners.”

  So it was a technical designation? Fee frowned, and shot a look at Pila.

  He was frowning, too. “I didn't mean any disrespect, Fiona. An orange to me is an unknown sentient life form. That's all. You're known, so Hadri's right, you aren't an orange any more, but it's a quick way to let people know you're like Rose McKenzie. The two of you are the first advanced sentients we've come across in over five hundred years, so you may be thought of as an orange for a while.”

  So the term meant alien, more or less. She might not like it, but it was true, she was an unknown entity.

  “What word would you like us to use instead?” Mun winced as she rearranged herself on the bed, and Pila took a half-step toward her then remembered himself and pulled back.

  Fee opened her mouth to say 'human' and then closed it. Human to her went beyond the dictionary definition of homo sapiens. It meant advanced sentient being with the capacity for a myriad of emotions, the intelligence to plan and strategize, and a thirst for knowledge. And that probably described a lot of races in this new corner of the galaxy.

  She pondered 'Earthling', because how cool would that be? Then discarded it.

  Maybe human was right. Because that would fit her right in with everyone else, if she thought of them as human, too.

  “I'm a human.” The difference between Grihan and English was stark. The Griha
n sounded short, harsh, and choppy beside the soft double syllable of 'human'.

  “Human.” Pila did his best to say it correctly, trying to make up for starting this all with his glib introduction of her as an orange.

  The others repeated it, as well.

  Their rough voices were so different to the dry rasp of the Garmman, and they mangled the word. But they tried.

  She smiled at them all.

  “Happy birthday to you, Mun. Pila told us it's your birthday today, and on Earth, we sing a song on someone's birthday. I've come to sing it for you, if you'd like?”

  Mun's gaze flew to her face, then she looked over at Pila. “A song especially for me?” She looked stunned.

  Fee wondered what the hell they thought singing was, here. Some kind of finite resource, obviously. To be dolled out sparingly and with a mean hand.

  “I don't know . . .” She trailed off, and then looked up almost guiltily, as someone else entered the room.

  They all turned, although Fee saw Carmain had obviously been standing with her body angled to the door all along, so she already knew it was Captain Vakeri, and her gun was not raised like Pila's.

  “Feeling better, Mun? Hadri?” The captain's gaze flickered over Pila as he lowered his shockgun, and then focused on his injured crew.

  “I'm probably ready to leave,” Hadri said.

  “When Jasa says,” Vakeri said. “Mun?”

  “Still a little tender, sir.” Mun lifted her body with her arms carefully, and repositioned herself again.

  She couldn't get comfortable, Fee guessed. Chances were there was something she could take for the pain and she had decided not to take it.

  Silence fell, as everyone tried to work out what to do, now the captain had joined them. He was a similar size to Pila, perhaps a little taller and leaner in build, but he seemed to take up more room.

  “Fiona is here to sing a birthday song for Mun,” Carmain said.

  “I know. Gerbardi told me, and I hope you don't mind, but I would like to hear it, too.”