The Key (48 page)

He was too smart to put all his eggs in one basket—or all his pieces on the game board. Too much could go wrong, even if Sara was able to lure Adin to the outpost.

So the geeks on the outpost had turned their attention to getting all possible weapons up and operational. Non-combat personnel had been moved down to the outpost and into bunkers. Everyone knew the outpost wouldn’t be hidden once it joined the fight, though the Colonel was hoping they wouldn’t have to use its resources in the battle.

They did know the portal could be used to evacuate the outpost if it became necessary, but no one could say for sure where—or when—the final destination would be.

Dr. Smith and team had also been working on ways to disable or disrupt the Dusan transmitters. Both ships had the capability to transmit a broad range EM pulse, but there was no way to protect friendly craft from the disruption in their systems.

The
Doolittle
did have some experimental, short range EM pulse missiles, but the problem always came back to the numbers the Dusan could bring to the fight. In addition to their big battle ships, they had about one hundred mid-range craft and—potentially—thousands of fighter craft.

In addition to some traditional, earth style weapons, and the EM pulse missiles, the
Doolittle
and
Patton
also had a variety of high-tech, experimental space weapons. These were energy based and included plasma cannons and lasers. They also carried a full range of nukes, together with space mines that were being deployed along the corridor the Dusan had used in the two previous attacks.

The Garradian craft all had some seriously fine, ass-kicking weapons, in addition to their phased cloaks and shields. The colonel had assigned the minimum of ten men to each of the four ships. They’d stripped weapons and shields from some of the fighters and fitted them to a
Dauntless
squadron and a
Hellfighter
squadron.

Literally the biggest advantage they had over the Dusan in a fight was their semi-autonomous fighting force, which gave them the ability to react and respond faster to combat situations.

Sara had no idea what kind of deal the Old Man made with the Gadi leader, but Helfron had produced pilots for the some of the cloaked ships, a bunch of grimly silent men that reminded her of Fyn. No one said they were Ojemba, but it told Sara that the Old Man had read
The Scarlet Pimpernel
, too. Or seen the movie.

Not that Sara saw any of the Ojemba up close and personal. The Old Man wouldn’t let them on the
Doolittle
. Any training in the Garradian stealth craft took place under the supervision of the
Patton
. She’d had to sneak peeks into the
Patton’s
monitors to see them.

Apparently the colonel had trust issues, too.

Sara had opened an email correspondence with Hawkins, when he sent her wedding congratulations, so she knew the Ojemba guys were
good.
He hadn’t seen any sign of the Leader, which made Sara uneasy, though she couldn’t have said why. There was no way for Helfron to know she wasn’t on the
Doolittle
.

As soon as Sara was able to un-goon the various computer systems, and made sure all the shields in the fleet were at their maximum efficiency, she and Fyn were transferred to the science outpost, and then they had traveled through the portal to this outpost to put their part of the plan in motion.

She found Fyn and Dr. Smith in what had been the Dusan central command. They’d converted some of the Garradian systems not affected by Miri’s lock, though none of it was neat or pretty. It was as if the Dusan were dedicated to being opposite to the Gadi every way they could—a sort of
uber
sibling rivalry still being played out, even though none of them knew it anymore.

They could have used any of the Dusan controlled outposts, but she knew this one would really pull Adin’s chain. This was where she’d eluded him. This was the first outpost she’d taken from him.

Both Fyn and Smith were both standing by an open console. A vice held four of the transmitters they’d taken out of dead Dusan. Smith had connected them to the consoles power supply. The other two had been destroyed in the EM pulse tests.

Dr. Smith looked at her uneasily. She seemed to have that affect on him. Or maybe he just had trouble with military pukes in general.

“It worked with the sub-space transmitter deactivated,” he said. “So, it should work with it on.”

“Thanks, doc.” Sara gave him a quick smile, as she bent and studied the connections between the transmitters and the console.

“I still don’t see how this will help,” he said. “Without a, well, brain, to complete the connection, they are useless.” As he spoke, he closed the console cover and locked it down.

Sara looked up at him. “It probably won’t work, but the colonel asked me to try.”

No one but the colonel and Fyn knew that it would be her brain that would attempt to make the connection, that would try to use it to sever Adin’s connection with his armada. Talk about going into uncharted territory.

From what they could tell, the communication module had two streams: one to send input to central command and another that received commands from there. If Adin sent commands to the device, Sara should be able to receive them, and hopefully relay them to the
Doolittle
, using the portal to bridge the space gap.

On the downside, it was possible that Adin would be able to sense the connection and disable it.

So things could go really well or really badly.

Or both.

“You’d better get back through the portal, doc.” Sara looked up at him.

“Of course.” He hesitated. “Shouldn’t I stay to make sure it works properly?”

“We’ll be fine,” Fyn said.

He nodded and left with the two jarheads who’d shadowed Sara around the outpost. It was a relief to be alone with Fyn, if only for a moment.

“I don’t like leaving you here.”

She didn’t like it either, but she had to be alone.

Adin and his people shot first and didn’t ever think. Probably never occur to him that Fyn might be a pressure point for Sara. Sex seemed to be his only subtle card and it wasn’t that subtle. Was that also a hang over from her father? His way of hitting out at Miri for eluding him? Both sides seemed to be heavily laden with Freudian complexes. Really weird, intergalactic, Freudian complexes.

It would have been funny if it weren’t such a freaking mess.

The Old Man had given them a couple of the cloaked fighters and a squad of Marines. That’s all he could spare. The outpost had a few defenses, but probably not enough to hold off a sustained attack from a battle cruiser. Its main defense seemed to be its ability to cloak, to hide. Unfortunately hiding wasn’t an option this time around. This battle would be one of wits, not might.

If she could make the connection.

And if he came.

Miri’s hologram had been right about her conscious mind blocking stuff. Since she’d quit doing it, her ability to access and control the Garradian systems had tripled—though understanding it all was still problematic.

She looked at Fyn. He looked pretty good in ABU’s, even with dreads. She hoped the Old Man didn’t make him cut his hair. Maybe she could convince him that like Samson, Fyn would lose his strength if he had to cut it.

He captured her hands and lifted one, then the other to his mouth.

“I don’t want you to do this.”

“I know.” She didn’t want to do it either. What she wanted was to take her husband and go back to earth, and to build a home together—for them and their baby.

The nanites kept her remarkably well informed about what was going on inside her body—sometimes too well informed. It wasn’t something she needed to know right now.

“I love you…sir.” She tried a smile. It was a bit shaky on the edges.

He touched her face, his eyes telling her what he couldn’t say. Then he stepped back and left her.

She covered her stomach with her hand for a long moment. If she’d known, would it have changed anything? If the colonel or Fyn had known, she wouldn’t be here.

Whatever they would have done, didn’t matter right now. She
was
here. It was time to pull Adin’s chain.

She closed her eyes and reached out to the first transmitter…

* * * *

Adin Xever surveyed the preparations for battle with his mind, as he sat comfortably in his quarters—what Sara would have called the Supreme Leader suite. It was much more…supreme than the room on the outpost. He still looked at the huge bed and pictured Sara there, her eyes, her mouth, her body welcoming him home.

Was it just because she’d eluded him that he couldn’t get her out of his head? Or was it something more?

There was…something about her, about her people that he found uncomfortably compelling. This…freedom she talked about, it was a dangerous notion, one that would put his people at risk. But it did make them…interesting.

They seemed…larger…than the other people they had conquered. Colored in rich textures, too emotional, too…happy…to be dangerous warriors, but they were clearly dangerous to how things had been, how they always would be.

They reminded him of a breeze. At first it seemed…refreshing, but when it begin to sweep all before it, began to change things, it had to be stopped.

He did not ask himself how a wind could be stopped. He just knew he had to do it, before the contagion of their ideas reached his people. If these ideas were to reach the network, it would be catastrophic. He had already eliminated the two men who had gone to the earth ship with them. He had felt their…interest in the earth people. He even understood it. But it could not be allowed to spread.

All was going well. On the morrow, the armada would move out and it would remove all trace of Sara’s people from this galaxy. The contagion would be contained, their ships captured for study, the people exorcised.

They did not belong in this galaxy and he would…eject them…the way his men had been ejected from the outposts. It was foolish of them to destroy the outposts. Perhaps, like Sara, they turned on something they couldn’t control. It belonged, by right, to his people. Perhaps that is why they could not control it.

He had held back for too long and he did not know why he had waited to take back what belonged to them.

He had the men, he had the ships and he had the will.

And he wanted Sara’s people gone. He wanted nothing left to remind him of her. When they were gone, then he would be able to get her out of his head.

He would be able to take another companion, be able to take many of them.

He would be able to sleep with his bond mate again.

He would be able to see his life through his own eyes, instead of hers.

He could stop looking at his people’s ways and wondering, if things had been different, if he had been different, there would have been a different ending for him and for Sara.

He could stop wondering if any woman had ever looked at him the way Sara looked at that Ionian.

He could stop longing for the…warmth and…lightness of heart…he sensed when he was around her. It would weaken him, if he were not careful. This fun they talked and sang about, it was a lure and a trap. Life was cold, it was hard and only the strong survived.

He would forget her, if he had to set this whole galaxy on fire to do it.

“My Leader?”

It was his aide, Kamelan, on his internal communicator.

“Yes?”

“You need to access the communication network grid, my Leader. We are receiving an…unusual transmission.”

The distraction was a relief. He needed to stop thinking about Sara. He tapped into the feed, taking his time to work carefully through the many threads.

He controlled all of them. Most of the time it was easy to manage the flow of information. During battle it was more challenging. He could only give his commanders limited control. There was always the risk of one of them doing what he had done. He had not become Supreme Leader by right, but by force. It was their way.

Since the beginning of known time, the Dusan and Gadi had gone to battle against each other. Usually the Dusan won, because they could throw more men and ships into the fight. But no matter who won the battle, there were certain…protocols each brought to the battle. He always knew what to expect from them. Just as they knew what to expect from the Dusan.

These earth people had changed that.

They followed none of the established protocols of battle. The loss of a ship had been annoying and it had forced him into the deception. He had not enjoyed pretending to be Gadi, but had needed to study them, learn how to fight them. That had not gone so well either, but he did know he would have to monitor the battle closely. If he could not anticipate their moves, he could respond to them. And he would bury them in men and ships.

They would be sorry they had tried to take him on.

He found the right feed, studying it for a long moment, trying to determine what is was he was seeing. It almost looked like one of the outposts…no, not one of them,
the one where Sara died
.

That was not possible. He had seen it destroyed with his own eyes…had he not? He considered it and realized what he had seen was a flash of light, a flash like the one that had stopped their attack on the earth ship when he tried to take Sara the first time.

“Is there anyone there—” Before he could finish the question, a figure moved into view.

Sara.

Her
face filled his mind, just as she had filled his night visions since he watched her die. It was not possible. It had to be some kind of trick. A deception. He had held her in his arms and felt her last breath leave her body. He had seen life fade from her eyes.

She lifted her cap, ruffled her hair, then put it back on again. She was dressed for battle in the same clothes he had seen her wear last time. They fit her loosely, but she could have worn anything and he would still want her.

He might even need her.

It was an…astounding thought.

His insides, his thoughts twisted.

What did this mean? Was it possible she was not dead? Was it possible the destruction of the outpost was a deception? If she could do these things, then she was more powerful than he had thought possible.