Voir Dire

(Starspeak)

The Fafin had a nice brig. It was a resort compared to the cell the Red Sails had first put me in. Cot—with actually soft pillows. Water tap. Even an intercom. The head was low on privacy, but that was Casti design for you.

It was, I’d been led to believe, rather a lot like a Scandinavian prison.

Though I doubted even Swedish prisons would let visitors right up to the door.

“Dansi, my first visitor,” I grinned. “I was just about to go to bed.”

“What do you want?” she said, uncertainty creeping into the edges of her words.

“I’d like to blackmail you for your help,” I smiled, not a trace of guilt on my face.

“…To do what?”

“See…the correct answer was ‘how could you possibly blackmail me?’” I said. “Then again, I suppose it would be pointless for you to deny it.”

Engineer Dansi gave me a bitter glare.

But she did not deny it.

I smiled.

·····

Kemon had lost.

There was no changing that.

Even if Jordan failed catastrophically, and the Ronin’s mission ended with very confused Vorak standing over their corpses, Kemon’s plan wouldn’t come to fruition because we’d managed to restore contact with the Jack, and Serral knew everything necessary to tear it all down after the fact.

Would that have been the case even if we hadn’t caught up to Kemon? If the Jack hadn’t tracked down the Fafin until after the Ronin had gone on their suicide mission…

Disturbingly, it occurred to me that the sequence of events Kemon had arranged could be quite compelling from a distance.

‘Vorak scouts were hunting us.’

‘They destroyed their own ship rather than be taken alive’.

‘A Vorak spy was in our midst’.

‘The Vorak kidnapped some of the seniormost abductees’.

It was just so balanced between coherent and vague that you could fill in the gaps based on assumptions. The lie really could have duped us if not for insisting the Vorak must have abducted them from Earth too.

But, no, Kemon had overplayed his hand and sealed his doom.

There was a noose already snug around his neck. So far, he hadn’t realized it. But it was tightening, and I didn’t like to imagine what he might do when he realized all hope was lost.

Even assuming Jordan’s end of things went swimmingly, there was little chance the Jack would be able to rescue her and the Ronin, deescalate with the Ironwill, and prevent Win from escaping.

Only the first one was strictly necessary, but satisfying the second objective would save everyone some massive headaches in the future. So it was that third one that I didn’t have high hopes for.

In that event, Win would have a head start over the Jack in the race back to the Fafin. That head start, that gap after Win returned and before the Jack caught up…

A lot of damage could fit into that window, and it would be my job to prevent it. Or at least keep it to a minimum. Heaps of that damage was posed by what Kemon might order his crew to do.

…But what if his crew wasn’t so eager to follow his orders?

I’d badly misplayed my hand with the abductees, but I’d polished my alien social graces far more since being abducted.

Breakfast sounded like a great way to cover a lot of ground fast.

I plopped down next to a gaggle of Casti in the Fafin’s mess hall.

“Who’re…wait…” one Casti said, recognizing me. “What are you doing here?”

“No one delivered any breakfast to my cell,” I said, indicating the foil carton I was peeling open.

“What are you—why is—” one Casti said, sputtered.

“Don’t eat that!” an older Casti ordered me. Firm wording, specific directions. It even sounded like genuine concern.

So of course, I did my best to act like a blithe idiot.

“Why not?” I asked, sticking a forkful of noodles into my mouth. God, going back to the ration blocks had been hell.

“Because it’s alien food,” the Casti said, reaching toward my tray. “What are you even doing here?”

“Trying to eat my breakfast,” I said, pulling the foil back when he reached for it.

“That’s Farnata food,” he sighed. “You don’t know it’s safe to eat. It could be poisonous for Humans.”

“Mmm, except…I do know? It’s not poisonous. I checked.”

“Eating doesn’t count!”

“I know,” I said. “Individual nutritional index, right? I checked. Look, all the protein bands line up. I’m good. The worst these noodles’ll do to me is spoil my appetite for lunch.”

I flashed them an admittedly Adept-made copy of the small metal plate the Organic Authority had given me. Two of the Casti at my table peered at the index’s engraved code while others frowned at my meal.

“Where’d you get that?” one asked.

“The pantry?” I said. “It had Win’s name on it and everything.”

One Casti snickered, but most of them just gaped.

“He means the index,” the older Casti frowned.

“Duh? The Organic Authority gave it to me,” I said. “You know…that interstellar non-profit organization? The ones on the cutting edge of most medical research? The ones that have dumped literal planet economies’ worth of money into stopping plagues, preparing defenses against bioweapons, vaccinating three— now four different flavors of alien against who knows what kind of diseases? You know, the ones who take First Contact really seriously, even if they’re a little light on recent practice…”

“We haven’t taken anyone to the Organic Authority…” one of the younger Casti said, unsure of herself.

The older one’s eyes widened a fraction, and I just slurped more noodles.

“No,” I agreed. “No you haven’t…I wonder what they’ll think about that?”

“But Captain Kemon—”

“—isn’t here right now,” I said. “And he won’t be until he gets the last of our abductee ships off the ground. Should be at least…twelve more hours, I think.”

The older Casti was the only one really catching my drift. At least, he was the only one beginning to look worried, so I assumed he was the only one.

“Anyway…” I drawled. “I’m going to be down…where is it…that side hallway off the lower cargo bay. Someone taped down a rug next to an exterior window. Great view…I recommend at least a few of you show up there in an hour or two. I’ve got a lot to say about what happens in the next couple days, and I doubt any of you are going to like it very much.”

I stared at the older Casti in particular because the stripes on his jacket marked him as one of the more senior officers aboard. They would be key in preventing Kemon from noticing that noose tightening around his throat.

The old Casti didn’t respond aloud, but the wariness in his eyes told me all I needed to hear.

·····

Talking to Jordan while she slept in transit on Win’s shuttle had clarified a lot. I knew the timetable we were on. I knew when the Jack should reach them. I knew most of the cards in play.

Walking around the Fafin bright and early the next ‘morning’, there was one problem with my understanding of Kemon’s plan.

He was manufacturing a disaster, and making sure the Vorak got the blame. Dead humans, killed on a Vorak void station was the kind of thing that ignited wars. Or, in this case, enflamed an existing one.

But if the Ronin were going to Fintuther voluntarily, however manipulated they were, how would the rest of the abductees react to this disaster Kemon and Win had cooked up?

I wasn’t particularly trustworthy to my fellow abductees right now, but Serral would believe me, and anyone important would believe Serral over Kemon.

So was Kemon just going to lie about where the Ronin had gone? All he had to do was say they were captured by Knox’s nearby allies in the dead of night, and everyone would be on his page.

Yes. Yes he would.

Jordan had helped me learn how to boost the range on my transceiver and, you know, find that range in the first place. But geosynchronous orbit back on Earth was…ten thousand miles? Twenty? A lot. It was a lot.

So being stuck on the Fafin did have me completely cut off from the other abductees on the ground…for about twenty-four hours.

I was very surprised when Sid tracked me down on board.

“Whoa…what are you doing here?” I asked.

“[What are you doing out of the brig? No—forget I asked, and speak English,]” he said.

“I asked nicely. And I’m talking to Kemon’s crew while he’s stuck planetside, so…Starspeak,” I said.

“Talking to…[why are you talking to Kemon’s crew?]”

“Because I’m more prepared to convince them than my fellow abductees,” I said. “Besides, they’re the actually important people around here. Even if I convince the campers, then it’s just all of us opposite Kemon and his crew—not that I wouldn’t like our odds there. I’d rather just tear out Kemon’s influence by the roots. I should have started this way, really.”

“What. Are. You. Doing. Out. Of. The. Brig?” Sid asked firmly. His tone was cross, not linguistically unsure.

“I asked nicely,” I said sagely.

“[Bullshit.]”

“It’s not exactly built to hold Adepts,” I said, insisting on Starspeak. “I could have broken out whenever I wanted. I asked, and they let me out so I wouldn’t break anything. What are you doing here though?”

“One A-ship is already launched,” he said. “I was on the first one off the ground, and there might be a second already.”

“I heard the A-ships were launching,” I nodded. “But I didn’t know anyone from them was going to come aboard the Fafin.”

“A few of us were curious, and Kemon didn’t have the patience to turn us down,” Sid said, begrudgingly switching languages. “Something lit a fire under him, and he’s paying that forward. Something massive went down last night.”

“Oh, I bet…” I smiled, materializing a folded piece of card stock. “What exactly?”

“The Vorak snatched the Ronin,” he said gravely. Letting the words hang in the air. He stared hard at me, like he might get me to speak just by willing it.

“…and Jordan,” I said.

“Of course you already knew…” he breathed. “Everyone’s scared to hell right now, and whatever the fuck the truth is? Six abductees are missing, so stop playing games, and tell me what’s going on.”

I handed him the piece of card stock I’d materialized.

On it read, ‘Johnny, Donnie, Ben, Aarti, Madeline, and Jordan have left the planet. And so, ever so coincidentally, has Win’.

Sid crumpled the card angrily, but I held up my hand.

“Relax, I’m not trying to yank your chain,” I said. “I worded that before you…you know. It’s simple: the Ronin didn’t get abducted by anyone. Win suckered them into signing up for a suicide mission.”

Sid’s first instinct was to cry foul, but he stopped himself halfway, mouth hanging open while he processed it.

“…Because of Knox?”

“All coming together now, isn’t it?” I asked.

“Why?” Sid hissed. “This is insane!”

“That word pretty much sums it up,” I said. “I’m still working out the details, but I’ve narrowed it down to Kemon trying to build clout with important military people by framing those people’s enemies.”

“Framing them…for killing the Ronin?”

“And spying on them and re-abducting them,” I nodded. “It’s an evolving theory, but those are the broad strokes.”

“Alright Ted, I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that—because you’re so calm—that the Ronin won’t actually come to that fate?”

“I’ve got my best people on it,” I said.

“Jordan,” Sid connected the dots.

I smiled. Not just her.

Dansi was the first member of Kemon’s crew I’d gotten to, but unlike the rest who’d be quietly spreading words I wanted spread…Dansi would be exploiting her access to the Fafin’s communication arrays…

“What’s Jordan supposed to do by herself?” Sid asked.

“Mostly buy time and ruin the illusion Kemon and Win have worked so hard to paint,” I said. “Suffice to say, if we hear from her in the next, say…forty-eight hours, then we’re golden.”

“And if we don’t?” Sid said darkly.

“Then we’ll hear from someone else,” I said. “I get that you’re in the dark right now, but I’m in the middle of something with a lot of moving parts. So can you be on board to help me? I mean really help me?”

“I’m just supposed to shut up and do what you say?” he asked.

“Sid, I promise I will answer any question you have when there’s the time, but right now, I need to talk to… Vez, there you are!”

The precise command structure of Kemon’s Fafin wasn’t entirely known to me. The engineering crews and bridge personnel were especially opaque to me. But I knew Kemon was at the top, with Win acting something like a first mate or head of security. Vez would be the sub-head of security then, and the only other combat Adept onboard.

I could take her, and she knew it.

“What are you doing out of your cell?” she demanded.

“I was released based on some strict conditions and good behavior,” I said. “But if you want to try getting me back in there at gunpoint, feel free. It could be fun.”

My confrontation with the Ronin had been too brief for Vez to see firsthand, but she would have heard about it. And Kemon caught at least the tail end. On the other hand, I knew plenty about her capabilities from having talked with Madeline and Sid the past month. She was like Johnny, high mass and not subtle with it. But she didn’t have his explosive growth, or frankly his mass. Her Adept talents came up short next to the Ronin. Not by much, but by enough that she didn’t like her chances against me.

Funny. I was sure she’d give me a more challenging fight than anyone here save Win. She had the experience to be a threat, but not quite enough to realize the edge it gave her on the Ronin.

“I—I…” she stuttered, trying to reach a decision. Fight or not?

“Relax,” I placated. “I don’t actually want to fight. I wasn’t actually kidding; I’m out on good behavior, just poking around the Fafin’s crew.”

“So what do you want with me?”

“Ted, don’t…” Sid started.

“I want to know what it would take to convince you to help me mutiny against Kemon.” I smiled, much to Sid’s chagrin.

Her hand twitched again at the word ‘mutiny’, like she was about to reach for a gun. When I stayed dead calm and still, it came across as surety.

“Out of the question,” she said. “Why would anyone even think about that?”

“I’m going to go out on a limb…” I said. “You joined this crew, what, nine months ago? Ten at the most?”

“…Eight,” she said. “How’d you know?”

“Because I know that twelve months ago, Kemon took this ship through Dar and Shen systems but only stayed in each one for two or three days. Then he looped back through there a few months later—also for just a bit; I’m assuming this is where you climbed aboard. Then he flew around Askior for a few months before skipping over into Mummar for all of five days and then skipping back here where—instead of hunting more pirates—he bolts for the quietest corner of Scozha and begins to plot…”

“You know our flight records? Did you access our computer?” Vez asked.

“Oh, much worse than that,” I grinned. “I know how Kemon’s been ordering the food supplies to feed the abductees. I know that the Askior branch of the Organic Authority would crucify him if they even got a whiff of his pathetic excuse for First Contact arrangements, and I know the plot he’s cooking up isn’t going to be nearly as well received by Coalition leadership as he thinks.”

At each sentence, Vez’s confusion and wariness grew into genuine terror. I had not interacted much with her. But on the rare occasions I’d run into her, I realized she reminded me of Esk, the Farnata criminal who’d found a deal to serve out a sentence working for the Organic Authority.

Kemon wasn’t the Org, but Vez struck me as a Farnata with a past worth running from.

I could think of no other reason why a valuable Farnata Adept would leave Dar—the Farnata home system, or Shen—the system home to the quasi-substitute homeworld. In either case, for an Adept like her, opportunities should have abounded amongst her own people.

No, she was someone thin on options. A good chunk of his crew struck me the same way. Kemon was a lawyer after all. How many rough and tumble customers must he have come across in his days practicing law? How many of them had he gone to for help resisting the Assembly’s occupying fleet?

That said, for all Kemon must have relied on those criminals for help…he was still a lawyer. Plea bargains might be in his wheelhouse, but actually extending trust to criminals?

Once I’d been ready to look for it, I’d begun to get a very clear picture of why Kemon had only trusted Win with his mad scheme. It made for one hell of a weak spot, and I was not above pressing until it hurt.

I knew I’d won when a frown cut through Vez’s terror. “What ‘plot’?”

·····

My little conspiracy rounded out to six quite nicely.

Sidney and I were joined by engineer Dansi, Vez, and the older Casti from breakfast—one of the Fafin’s senior most gunnery technicians. None of the aliens were pleased to wait, but timing had it such that Drew’s A-ship was second to last into orbit.

But that was fine. It still left us an hour before the last A-ship would launch, bringing Kemon back onto his ship.

The invisible girl finally arrived, and I was ready to lay down the law.

“Wow,” Drew said. “Those bridges feel really sketchy…”

“They’re rated for multiple tons,” I assured her. “Perfectly safe.”

“Easy for you to say,” she grumbled. “You didn’t have to walk across one.”

Not untrue. The thought of walking through a tube between two spaceships thousands of miles above a planet did make me sweat. But daunting as the prospect was, it still wasn’t the reason I was yet to set foot on an A-ship again.

I asked her.

Drew said.

I blinked, surprised.

Thank you, Jordan.

“Then we’re ready?” the gunnery Casti asked.

“I’m sorry,” I confessed. “I forgot your name.”

He glared at me. “Are you joking?”

“No,” I shrugged. “But I am done being polite. I made it clear this morning, right? Knowingly or not, at best you’ve enabled Kemon to create unjustifiably incompetent First Contact conditions, and at worst you’re complicit in his actively hostile transgressions against humankind and Earth. I am blackmailing you. I know you’d all probably rather stay loyal to Kemon. All I’m doing is making it crystal clear to you what the consequences of that will be, with or without me.”

“Oh. Blackmail?” Drew asked. “I didn’t know that part.”

“Your note was vague,” the gunnery Casti complained. “What exactly are you threatening us with?”

“Oh, not me,” I said innocently. “I won’t be doing any of it. But Kemon has this big evil plan, and even if it somehow goes through, it’s not secret anymore. So I could die right now, and every member of Kemon’s crew would still face every one of the consequences.”

“And those consequences are?”

“I’m so glad you asked…” I trailed off, gesturing toward him.

“Kritsus,” he growled.

“I am so glad you asked, Kritsus,” I said. “I think Dansi has the answer to that. Because sometime last night, the Fafin picked up a very rudimentarily encrypted message from a certain ship rolling toward the Beacon leading to Minshia. And it’s such a treat to listen to.”

Dansi withdrew a tape recorder—a literal alien tape recorder—and pressed play.

The spool turned and a scratchy but recognizable voice warbled through it.

“This is the Coalition diplomatic vessel Jackie Robinson. I am Ase Tenharu Serralinitus, under the command of Coalition High Admiral, Ki’Tham Laranta, and my mission is to safeguard all Human abductees. Encoded in this message are credentials for both my ship and its ambassadors. The following alert is given to the ‘Free Casti Skies’ Ship, the Fafin: to all crew and personnel; evidence we have gathered has placed you under suspicion of interfering in my mission and violating the following Coalition adopted, and Organic Authority issued First Contact procedures: failure to quarantine effectively and sensibly, failure to quarantine in a timely manner, failure to quarantine themselves, failure to safeguard First Contacts against environmental toxins, failure to safeguard against potential allergens, failure to…”

Sid’s eyes widened the longer the list got. I could only assume Drew’s did too.

Meanwhile Vez and Kritsus looked like they wanted to wilt and die. There was something to be said for the band Serral had broadcast on: one of the most public sections of wavelength, but Dansi had told me it was sent using an ultra-tight beam configuration.

The Earth equivalent might have been an FBI alert being issued on twenty-four hour news channels, but only delivering the broadcast to the exact apartment building the ‘most-wanted’ were hiding out in..

For all that I’d waded deep into First Contact procedure and alien politics, I’d realized too slow that the average alien wouldn’t have that level of familiarity with the topic. It was entirely possible that the majority of Kemon’s crew wouldn’t even know First Contact procedures were so strict. The remainder that did, might have brushed those rules off, or deferred to their captain.

Either way, I was more than happy to disabuse them of the notion.

“…in no more than one-hundred-fifty hours, this ship will intercept the Fafin,” Serral’s voice intoned. “Until that time, Captain Wolshu Kemon and Win Vo-Man-Zin are to be relieved of duty and detained securely. Any attempt to follow their orders or carry out their intent will be perceived as hostile action against both the Coalition and the Human race itself. Any crew attempting to do so will be thwarted, apprehended with all necessary force, and prosecuted to the fullest extent of both Coalition and Earth law. To this effect, all crew of the Fafin are ordered to comply with every and all orders given by the Human called Theodore, or ‘Ted’, better and more widely known to Coalition and Vorak alike as…”

It was with a wide, shit-eating grin that I heard Serral say my name.

Now it was Sid’s turn to go still-as-a-stone.

Meanwhile Drew broke into howls of laughter so loud we almost had to move our clandestine meeting.

“…You’re ajengita,” Vez paled. No…I had that wrong. Ajengita. Capital ‘A’. It was a title, one no doubt from a Vorak language…

“Oh, heard of me, have you?” I grinned. “Is that what the furfish are calling me these days?”

She nodded shakily, like every last one of her life decisions had just been dragged under a spotlight.

“So…” I drawled. “I think it would be best for everyone if this message made its way around the crew. You know, verify the codes in it, perform all the due diligence, make sure that every last member of Kemon’s crew knows exactly what’s waiting for them…wherever Kemon’s taking us. Do you all agree?”

“Best for everyone,” Kritsus clicked. Agreement never sounded so mollified.

Music to my ears.

·····

I reckoned Serral’s recording had made its way around half the Fafin’s crew before Kemon returned on board.

But in the hours beforehand, I spread a simple message along with it: feel free to tell Kemon whatever you like…at your own risk.

Sid asked.

I said.

Sid said.

I said.

<[Six? Specifically six?]> he confirmed raising an eyebrow.

I nodded. <[So Kemon can’t be allowed to control them. I’d like to either get a copy of the recording to the aliens in charge of them, or get them to come to us. As long as they still answer to Kemon, we have loose ends. You and Drew…how many more humans are here on board the Fafin?]>

Sid said.

<[Once we get sympathetic folks in control of the A-ships, I want you and Drew to get everyone you can off the Fafin. If things turn violent, I don’t want any abductees anywhere near it.]>

Sid pointed out.

I said.

I said.

Sid said.

I confessed. <[I already swung and missed, so the only way I see everyone turning against him is…no, forget it.]>

Sid surmised.

I said.

but his hand dipped into his pocket, pulling about a shiny black smartphone. he murmured.

I asked.

he asked me, wiggling the smartphone.

I accused.

he grinned.

·····

My mutiny was technically ready by the next morning, but proceeding recklessly would only increase our risk. Timing would be critical, and the only warning Kemon would get was the six A-ships altering course by a single degree, distancing themselves to at least a hundred kilometers from the Fafin before resuming parallel course.

I grimaced. Getting every human but me off the Fafin would have been ideal. But it wasn’t meant to be. We would have to make do with keeping our most vulnerable people tucked out of the way in the engineering supply closet.

The last thing I did before we went was materialize a holster on my thigh and my revolver to fill it.

“Play ball…” I muttered to myself, and started a mutiny.