Aberrant

Chapter 51

The Black Mercury's bridge hummed with activity, sensor and navigation teams grabbing short-range readings and flight path data. At their centre, the Mercury's captain, the indomitable Elsa Delaforge, monitored proceedings with her mech eyes, her war-scarred body more tech than organics. Beside her, Zio Tarak sat like a dark spider, his expression typically impassive.

But turbulent emotions coiled beneath the surface.

Kaplan gripped the arms of his jumpseat, his feelings resonating with that ugly brew. The crew's mood only fed it: anticipation humming beneath the apathy of routine. Most only knew they were tracking a ship connected to the rebel Xykeree. To them, Jinx was just a civilian hostage with valuable intel.

But to every Rha Si on board, she was more. A potential solution to their problems. Possible salvation.

Kaplan eyed the tracking data on the bridge's main screen. He wanted the same answers, for his brother's sake, for his own. But that wasn't all he wanted.

Jinx had to be okay. More, she needed to know she'd be okay, that she wasn't losing her mind. If she had no overload issues, she'd only need training, not treatment. She could give up the damn death wish and start planning to see out at least another half a dozen decades. Given how well she'd already survived, there seemed no reason she couldn't live a full life.

No reason except Tras and the Xykeree.

The aliens had to have recognised the threat she posed. They'd want to assess it and find a way to mitigate it, because it was potentially significant. Rha Si less vulnerable to overload. Their survival not reliant on imperfect reg tech. Their numbers no longer limited by the rarity of latents and the hazards of alteration and tank breeding.

Kaplan forced air into his lungs. The Mercury had to intercept Tras before it was too late. If the Xykeree got hold of Jinx, they wouldn't allow her to be reacquired. They wouldn't let her live long.

Unfortunately, the navigation and sensor data on screen painted pretty much the same picture as it had twenty minutes ago. And with every second that passed, Kaplan liked that picture less and less.

Sun dropped into the seat beside him. Update from Atlas. Temple's briefed Shau. This mission's approved—highest priority. The R'henuri will personally deal with the situation on the Dawn. Our traitor will soon be bleeding from the ears.

Kaplan nodded to the screen. Tell me what you see.

Sun pursed her lips. A near straight-line run at standard warp. Apart from killing his transponder, Tras has done nothing to hide his trail. He's not thinking with his usual cunning. Probably following a psionic compulsion, same as the other sacrificial pawns we've seen.

They'd just found another, the bounty hunter Reihnald Syrus, half-asphyxiated in a void drop crate.

Sun exhaled. If things follow pattern, Tras will soon hand Koel over to another disposable courier and be eliminated.

Kaplan narrowed his eyes on the data. The short-range beacon Syrus had been dumped with didn't fit that pattern. Tras barely stepped foot on the Dawn. And his mental makeup makes him an unreliable puppet—especially unsupervised. His involvement is more likely driven by personal gain.

Disgust flickered in Sun's psionics. You think Tras' is a straight mercenary hire? Out for credits?

Kaplan shot her a dark glance. After what happened on Tirus 7, there's only one thing that bastard wants.

A bloody reckoning. Sun's tone echoed her own desire for vengeance. You think he's figured out who's ultimately after Koel. Reid, if he has and he's hunting payback, that wouldn't be good for her. Signs are the Xykeree want her alive, at least for now. But Tras?

She's a pawn he'd sacrifice. Kaplan, in that instant, felt every light year between him and the ship being tracked; a vast black void in his chest. An odd feeling of panic whispered through him, then a deathly sense of silence, as if only the emptiness of space was all that lay ahead. A deep certainty gripped him. If they didn't find Jinx soon, they weren't getting her back.

It might already be too late.

Sun touched his arm, pulling his attention back to the buzz of minds on the bridge. Urgency—anticipation—burned in her psionics. Reid, if we're right, if Tras is thinking independently and knows the Xykeree are involved in this ... the self-serving bastard knows he's seriously outgunned. He'll—

Try and even the odds. Kaplan snapped his gaze back to the tracking data, his pulse quickening. He wants to be followed. He's using us, leading us to—

"Captain Delaforge," the Mercury's sensor specialist straightened abruptly at her workstation. "The target vessel dropped out of warp near the planetoid Gosos. Sensors are detecting weak radiation consistent with Xykeree shield tech, but no strong engine residues. We may have a parked Xykeree warship ahead of us."

Kaplan's chest locked tight. They'd just lost the race.

They couldn't lose the battle.

He shoved out of his seat, strode for the door, his neurotech lighting up with inventory lists. The contents of the Mercury's armoury.