Reavers (Book 3) (32 page)

Kevin shot a glance at Sasha.  She nodded and tried to stand on her own.  The numbness in her legs was all but gone.  Abruptly, Tardos grabbed Kevin’s arm and started dragging him out.  He was speaking at an incredible pace, something about maintenance that she didn’t understand.  As she headed after them, a firm hand rested on her shoulder.  Revel had a serious look on his face.

“I’m sorry,” he said, obviously troubled.

“For what?  I’m okay now.”

“You should probably stay away from Kevin.”

“
What
?” she asked in a shout.

Revel visibly recoiled a bit.  It was a strange sight to see the hulking man looking so pensive.

“It’s for the best,” he said finally.

“Are you saying you don’t want me to see him?”

“I wish it was that, I truly do.”  Revel shook his head.

“What is wrong with you?”

“That look on Kevin’s face.  I’ve seen it before.  A great many times.”

Suddenly, a wave of concern filled Sasha.  She had never seen an expression like it before and honestly never wanted to see it again.

“What does it mean?” she asked in just a whisper.

Revel sighed slightly and turned to leave the freezer.

“What does it mean?” she asked more forcefully.

“It means he won’t be with you.  He can’t.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.  He’s sorry too, but for now he cannot be with you.  He has a duty to perform.  He’s a raider like me, and we don’t have the luxury of raising a family.”

“But . . .”

“Trust me, he’s doing this for you.”

“I don’t . . .”

“He knows what we are going to do next, what we
have
to do.  We won’t be raiding for training or picking safe targets.  He knows there is a good chance he won’t be coming back next time.”

Being a Master Weaver was a tiring affair.  Everyone in the Commonwealth
needed
your services.  Jack was free to turn down most of the summons and requests.  No one dared question a Weaver.  Well, almost no one.  Military Intelligence was the exception to the rule.  MI had the best troopers, the best technology, and the immunity of not technically existing.  All this special treatment meant two truths about the secret sub-branch of the military.  Their agents were forces to be reckoned with, and their leaders were egomaniacs with god complexes.

Having so much power always went to the MI commander’s head - always.  That was no doubt the reason the hierarchy in the organization changed so frequently.  Every time Military Intelligence requested his services, it was a new face doing the asking. 

Although, even though the face changed, the tasks didn’t.  MI always wanted one of two things.  They either wanted him to interrogate a particularly difficult person, or disable a public figure they couldn’t get near.  He had made it clear long ago he wouldn’t stain his hands on their behalf.

Oddly enough, this task had actually interested Jack.  It was definitely something new.  MI had asked him to be a
diplomat
, of all things.  “Asked” was probably the wrong word for it.  They normally expected him to accept, but this time they had been downright desperate.  Jack would almost describe it as pleading.  In fact, MI already had a ship ready for his departure - an odd looking one too.

Reaching into the breast pocket of his Weaver’s uniform, Jack found something unexpected.  Instead of his pad with the mission specifications, there was a small frame.  With a smile, he placed the empty frame on a table in his temporary quarters and tapped the top right edge.  Slowly an image took shape.  It was of his wife and best friend waving to him.  Jack couldn’t place the background.  It was probably one of those 3P conventions Nathan was always dragging Helen to.

Nathan had been Jack’s one friend since their academy days.  In all that time, Nathan had never been able to break him of his dislike of 3Ps.  Not long after Jack’s wedding, Nathan realized he now had someone to share his obsession with.  Helen didn’t mind it, and often returned with several 3Ps she’d force Jack to watch with her - not that all of them weren’t . . . stimulating.  Plus, Nathan watched so many 3Ps so regularly that he was constantly winning contests and the like.  Helen wasn’t one to turn down a free vacation and was amazingly understanding when Nathan asked her to tag along.

Jack chuckled to himself.  When they had first decided to get married, he had figured it would be the end of his service as a Master Weaver.  He had figured she would put a stop to his assignments and he’d have to find a new line of work.  He had already imagined all the arguments.  His missions would be too dangerous and take too long for her liking.  To his surprise, when the first request came along, only two days after the honeymoon in fact, she didn’t bat an eye.

“I knew who I was marrying,” she had told him.  “Just don’t get yourself killed out there.”

Thinking for a moment, Jack realized where his pad had gotten to and stepped over to the locker sitting in the corner of the small room.  Everything on the ship was smaller.  Most likely the room was one of the biggest on board.  Why MI would build a ship that looked like a giant piece of cauliflower was beyond him.  Placing the frame back in its proper place in his ceremonials, he withdrew his pad and returned to his seat.  He must have gotten the two switched at some point.

When he had heard the word
diplomatic
, he had dragged his ceremonials along, just in case.  Tapping on the pad, he sifted through all the pages of meaningless text.  Whoever was writing briefings for MI needed to be sent back to an academy.  The writer had added page after page of background information that was completely irrelevant.  Jack had read through the complete history of the colony on Lintilä, only to find the mission had nothing to do with the colony.  It was similar to getting the complete family history of man you’d never meet.  Of the entire briefing, only about half a page was worth anything.  There was a great deal in that half page.

A battleship of the Navy had been destroyed.  It wasn’t one of the old rust buckets either.  It had been put into service fifteen months before its destruction - top of the line with all the bells and whistles.  Before its untimely end, the ship had managed to transmit all its data.  At first the technicians believed the data was damaged, but after detailed analysis it was proven authentic.

Several
unknown
craft descended on the battleship and evaded the best weaponry the Commonwealth had to offer.  Naturally the inept author of the briefing made guesses as to who could be responsible.  It was the standard run down, terrorists or a rogue colony being the best of the guesses.

Jack shook his head disapprovingly.  It wasn’t such a simple matter; after all they had brought him in.  If it had been the work of terrorists or some other troublemaker, MI would have sent in a squad and eliminated the threat already.  If the colony had gone rogue, the matter would have been tossed in the lap of the diplomatic core.

No, something else was responsible for these mystery craft, most likely some new pirate weapon.  The guilds were always on the forefront of dangerous weaponry.  Not being bound to Commonwealth law meant they were free to play with devices and technology that would normally warrant a one-way trip to a prison world.  However, something in the back of Jack’s mind didn’t accept that.

The odd ships nagged at him.  V-shaped asteroids with impossible maneuverability.  It just didn’t sound like something the guilds would come up with.  Sure, they made custom ships in strange sizes and shapes, but they were all still
ships
.  They all retained the metal frames and basic principles of a ship.  These things were odd enough to come from one of the corporations, but neither the ITU nor CI had any interest in taking on the military these days.

The ITU was too busy picking up the pieces, and CI preferred to remain neutral.  The minor corporations didn’t have the resources or connections to make such unique craft without leaving an obvious trail of evidence behind.  All that left were the Shard.  No other force would openly attack a Navy ship while resorting to ships that defied all known standards. 

Somehow that didn’t sound right either.  Why would MI send for a Weaver to negotiate with Shards?  After all, those metal monsters had no emotions to sense or manipulate.  It would make more sense to summon someone from maintenance.

“Master Weaver Davis to the bridge,” the P.A. demanded.

As Jack left his temporary quarters he could sense the scurrying of the crewmembers.  Their dread and apprehension gave their positions away as they all cleared a path from his room to the bridge.  Not one of them wanted to make the mistake of being in his way.  It was pointless.  Jack could strike out at them, sight unseen if he needed.  He wasn’t sure which was more annoying, their fear of him or the strange things they did to deal with that fear.

The trip to the bridge was a routine, if not a short one.  Despite the odd outer appearance of the ship, the interior was the same as any other ship of the Commonwealth.  No doubt the interior was mass-produced along with countless others as the shipyards feverously worked to repopulate the Navy.  The repugnant sensation from his destination warned him that an MI agent was waiting, not the commander of Military Intelligence, but someone high up enough to be overly smug about it.

“Good of you to join us,” a short but not overly so man said behind a messy beard.

Jack instantly knew he was going to like the man.  He had the air of someone with a great deal of experience, although it was mixed with a fair amount of good humor and modesty.  Hidden behind that messy beard was a mind that had fought a great many foes and had actually gained some wisdom instead of ego from those encounters. 

Abruptly, an outstretched arm interrupted his observations.  The owner of the hand was a man Jack knew he would
not
like.  Shifting his view from the bearded man to the owner of the hand, he was taken by surprise.  At first impulse, he wondered if another Weaver was facing him.  As realization hit him, a feeling of disgust filled him.  Apparently, the
current
leader of Military Intelligence was envious of the status of Weavers.

The MI agent was wearing a black uniform that was annoyingly similar to Jack’s, save that it was missing the slight sheen that denoted a Weaver.  No doubt the man had no idea of the insult he was making, but for an average person to pretend they were a Weaver was beyond detestable.  The idea of
pretending
you had to endure the constant bombardment of emotions from the people around you, all so people would be forced to respect you, turned Jack’s stomach.

The MI agent kept his hand out, waiting for him to finally accept it and shake it.  Under the surface, the MI agent was deeply regretting offering the hand in the first place.  Walking past the MI agent, Jack approached the short bearded man.

“My name is Davis, Jack Davis, although you probably already know that.  So what is your name, Admiral?”

As Jack had expected, the shorter man didn’t react with fear.  While the admiral might have been a head shorter than the MI agent, he was twice as tall in the bravery department.

“Shen, the name’s Shen.”  He rubbed his beard.  “How’d you know I was an admiral?”

“They don’t call me a Master Weaver for nothing.  So what are you doing on a MI ship?”

“This ship does not belong to Military Intelligence,” Shen said in a slightly annoyed voice.

“We’ve been over this before,” the MI agent quickly added.

“Fine.”  Shen’s eyes narrowed as he looked the MI agent over.  “Split custody.  The ship is under Navy jurisdiction; the reactors and weapons are yours.”

“Reactors?  Plural?” Jack asked in surprise.

“That information is classified,” the MI agent said, with a deep-seated pride filling him.

“They’ve got some new toy,” Shen said, obviously not impressed.  “Probably something they ripped off the pirates in a raid.”

“Admiral!”

“Don’t get your ridiculous costume in a bunch.  You’ve asked a
Master
Weaver to come over and play.  If he really wanted to know all the details, do you honestly think you could stop him from dragging them out of you?”

Jack smiled to himself.  He had known he was going to like this Shen fellow.

“We did not steal this from the pirates,” the MI agent said, stewing in his own juices.

“I was under the impression that having multiple reactors on a ship was counterproductive,” Jack said, attempting to recall a lengthy discussion he had once overheard.  “I admit I’m not an expert in the field of jump mechanics, but as far as I know, the added mass would increase the energy needed for a jump at a rate exponentially greater than the energy generated by the additional power production.”

Both Shen and the MI agent stared at Jack in surprise.

“For someone who claims not to be an expert, that’s pretty advanced,” the MI agent said, attempting to hide the fact he was, in fact, an expert.

“I’ll agree to that,” Shen added.  “Although, I wouldn’t expect much out of our poorly dressed friend.  He has been incredibly tight lipped about the whole thing.  My guess is the MI stole . . . excuse me,
developed
something new.  Something that doesn’t play by the rulebook we all accept.”

There was a tinge of fear and trepidation in Shen - he suspected it was stolen Shard technology.  Jack could sense from the MI agent that Shen was close.

“This is all a waste of time,” the MI agent said, painfully desperate to change the subject.

“As much as I hate to admit it, you have a point,” Jack muttered.  “Whatever tricks you’ve hidden in this cauliflower, I hope they were worth it.”

“Cauliflower!” Shen repeated as he burst into laughter.

“The Vanguard does not look like an upside-down stick of cauliflower!” the MI agent quickly protested.

“Who said anything about it being upside-down?” Shen asked.  Suddenly, his eyes widened.  “Don’t tell me you thought the same thing!”

The MI agent didn’t answer, but a strong coating of embarrassment filled him - Shen had guessed it.  The MI agent walked away from the two men and took a position on the bridge proper.  He stood rigidly at attention, attempting to convince himself he hadn’t made too big a fool of himself.

“Good to know there is someone
else
out there who can talk back to his lot,” Shen said as he gestured to the MI agent.

“So what brings you here?”  Jack asked.  “I’m their favorite
pet
for tricky situations.  What’s your story?”

“A pet that could bite them in the rear,” Shen added with a smirk.  “I’m here solely as an advisor.  They are up to something big.  Somehow swayed the Navy to give them an entire fleet.  All very hush, hush.  I’m too old for this cloak and dagger nonsense.”

“I’m guessing you were part of the deal.  Someone the Navy would listen to over MI if things got out of hand.”

“Figured all that out already?  Took me three days to realize I was an insurance policy.  Although I doubt they’ll need me against Core Industries.  Never had any trouble with them before, though.”