Page 69 of Clan and Command

“Listen, that meeting I was called in first thing this morning for? It was Fleet Security. An asshole, Senior Officer Diwal, hauled me into his office for questioning.”

“Questioning? For what?”

“They detected com transmissions going from your ship to the regions where the Basma’s fleet has been. While he acknowledged it could have been anyone on the destroyer sending those coms, Diwal seemed to want to target you specifically.”

Kila’s tone went tight. “Piras, put your ass in a shuttle and get into space now. Don’t even head for the ship, because it won’t be there. I’ll pick you up.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. They have nothing but suspicions, nothing concrete so far—”

“Now, damn it! The fact they’d haul in an admiral says they’ve got more than they’re admitting to. Leave while everything’s still in a state of chaos.”

“But the Basma won’t believe I’m truly with him if I leave. He wants me here.” Even as he spoke, Piras knew he was jabbering.Shock, I’m in shock. I’ve got to get my head together.

Kila’s voice roared from the com. “Maf’s got Laro, doesn’t he? You handed it over, exactly as you said you would. He doesn’t need more proof, and you’ll do him no good in a prison camp. You’ll do even less executed as a traitor. Piras, you’ve got to get out of there now, before it’s too late.”

Kila’s usual mocking tone had a definite note of panic. It occurred to Piras that he’d forgotten to be cautious on his way to the secret office. If Diwal had been following him or was tracking all coms going as well as coming from Kila’s ship—

“I’m on my way. Where do I go?”

“Move towards the general area where I’ve been orbiting. I’ll collect you.”

“You’re already gone?” Surely Kila hadn’t broken away that fast.

“Go, damn you!”

Piras shut down the frequency on Kila’s shout. The stunned state that had infected his brain was at last dissipating, leaving with a sense of doom. He was fucking up, losing time. He had to move fast, but without attracting undue attention.

Piras hurried out, fighting the instinct not to run. It took every last ounce of control he possessed.

He made for the shuttle bay. He chafed as the conveyance he took made stop after stop at each floor, picking up and discharging passengers. With the attack on Laro Station, Fleet Command was chaotic with activity. Couriers and aides were rushing around, making things happen on behalf of their superiors.

Reaching the High Command’s level where his office was located, Piras decided to squeeze past the other men crowding the transport’s car. He reasoned he could walk quicker to the bay from that floor than deal with the constant stopping for discharging and taking on passengers. It was a relief to get out of the claustrophobic closeness of the conveyance, though the corridor was busy with activity too. The panic he’d been feeling eased as he gained the hallway and hurried in the direction of his office. His heart slowed from thundering to pounding.

Past Hobato’s chambers. Past Tranis’s office. Nearing the traitor Banrid’s office. His own office was in sight now, and beyond that, the bend that led to a passage that led to the shuttle bay where escape waited. He was almost there.

“Admiral Piras, halt where you are. Keep your hands empty and raise them in the air.” Diwal’s shout was the voice of doom.

Piras froze. The personnel who had been scurrying about also stopped and stared. Admirals leaned out of their office doors, confusion and worry evident on their expressions.

Piras pivoted to face the Nobek who’d called him down. He noted Tranis and Hobato had also come to their doors to see what was transpiring. The corridor, moments ago a sea of soft murmurs and shuffling, was silent as Diwal and six members of Fleet Security confronted Piras. The group quickly surrounded the Dramok.

Diwal didn’t try to hide a triumphant sneer as he said, “You are under arrest, Rear Admiral Piras. Resistance will be met with lethal force, if necessary.”

Gasps from the onlookers rang out. The fuzziness of shock began to creep over Piras’s senses once more. Only when one of the officers slapped hovercuffs on his wrists did the Dramok find the strength to break its spell. He used the gloating expression on Diwal’s face to kindle his ever-ready temper and snarled, “After our conversation this morning? You have lost your mind, Diwal. What charge could you possibly level against me?”

“Treason. Collaborating with the enemy, resulting in the deaths of hundreds of loyal Kalquorians on Laro Station.”

Muttering filled the hall. At the same time, Piras felt his strength return. Diwal must have intercepted his com to Kila.

Now that the mission was fully underway, Piras lost all the confusion and second-guessing that had plagued him from the moment it had been offered. With clarity came sweet calm. He had an assignment to fulfill. An objective to see to the end, no matter how bitter that end may turn out.

In an instant, Piras settled into his role. He sneered, “This is ludicrous, and you know it. I will not only have your job, you pathetic ass, I’ll dance on your worthless carcass.”

“I doubt that very much.” Diwal was flush with victory. He had Piras’s number all right. The admiral would have laughed at the man’s glee if the stakes hadn’t been so high. “You communicated with Captain Kila minutes ago, who you knew we were investigating for traitorous activities.”

“Investigating with no proof of any wrongdoing. You can’t arrest me for warning Kila he might have a turncoat on his ship.”

Diwal grinned, the expression that of a fanged zibger about to tear the throat out of a helpless baby ronka. “No, but I can arrest you for this.” He raised his handheld. “Playback file ‘Piras and Kila com’.”

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