Dekkir (Galaxy Alien Warriors #1)(50)
“I returned from the hospice with Dekkir and the others in a caravan commanded by one of their local travel specialists. On our way back, we were attacked by a swarm of combat drones. Several members of the group were killed before we were able to fend them off.” I stared at Norcross, who stood still, a single muscle jumping repeatedly in his cheek.
Once again, the machine didn’t let out so much as a beep. The commander looked between it and myself, and then sighed. “The missing drones. I assume the missing men have a similar story behind them?”
I opened my mouth to speak, only to hear Tabirus speaking to me in my mind. Grace. You cannot read Norcross’s mind or emotions, but you can get him to expose himself. Empathy works both ways. His emotions are entirely self-centered, so you cannot read them. But you can still manipulate them, just as they have been manipulated with words. Listen closely, for my part of the plan will soon be unfolding. Remember he loves to gloat. Also, remember he keeps getting more nervous the more he is caught at what he’s been doing.
I took a deep, steadying breath and decided to give it a try. I focused on Norcross: all that peculiar absence of connection, like a hole in the world. I watched his face as I started pouring my own batch of emotions into his emptiness. Pride, fear, the urge to brag. Come on, you damn fool. You’ve been quiet most of this time. You know you can’t take it anymore. You have to say something.
Norcross cleared his throat. “I am not responsible for the drone strike,” he blurted suddenly. Then he realized how suspicious that sounded and reddened.
Wickman rolled his eyes. “Were you equally ‘not responsible’ for our almost one hundred missing men? According to the latest bunk check, as of a few hours ago, over a quarter of our complement of soldiers has apparently vanished into thin air. Did you have something to do with this, or do you want to tell me that you somehow infiltrated Lyra by yourself and captured the doctor here and this Dekkir fellow on your own?”
Norcross scowled and shoved his hands in the pockets of his dress uniform. “Fine. It’s true. I was seeking to follow our original orders and work to destabilize Lyra.”
“Without my knowledge or permission? And using tactics that failed at every single turn, with the exception of taking hostage two people who would likely have come here willingly if asked in a peaceful fashion?” I could feel Wickman’s craving for a drink, and this time, I really couldn’t blame him.
I concentrated harder on Norcross. Come on, then, keep flapping your gums. Dig your career a grave. It doesn’t matter what Earth Command had in mind; you still jumped the line, and you messed up while you were at it. It’s about time Wickman realized what’s really going on here.
Norcross glared at him. “You have been ignoring orders from Earth ever since they gave the command to start the destabilization of the planet. This stupid idealism of yours was going to get us nowhere. You and this silly little bitch have only succeeded in delaying the inevitable. It was time someone got things moving!”
“Yeah, except you failed every single time, bright boy,” I snarled at him. “Just like the man said.”
The commander waved at me to be silent. “I see.” He made another note, then looked up at Norcross. “Lieutenant Damon Norcross, I’m hereby relieving you of your duty. You will be returned to Earth on the next shuttle, and I will be contacting Earth Command about these developments. I will also provide them with the new information I have received on both the costliness and the pointlessness of Lyran occupation.”
Norcross stared at him for a long moment, his face dark purple and his eyes temporarily full of fury. “I see. Well then. You leave me no choice.”
The lieutenant pulled a small energy pistol from his pocket and fired, flash-burning half the commander’s chest. Wickman stiffened, eyes widening in shock, and clasped the wound before slumping over and sprawling across his desk. The four guards turned immediately, drawing their weapons, but Norcross was already out the door.
CHAPTER 21 /DEKKIR
I was watching the culturing tanks fill with Golden Strain and the human scientist slowly sink into a trance as his body started to adapt to it, when a current of alarm and anger ran down the link I shared with Grace. I sat up suddenly and turned to look at Tabirus. He nodded and immediately sent out a telepathic beacon to link us all up. What is it?
Grace’s message back was controlled but edged with fear, frustration, and rage. Norcross shot the commander and escaped. I’m sure he’s gathering whatever sympathetic forces he has right now. Meanwhile, one of the science officers and I are trying to keep Wickman alive. He needs medical attention and now, or we’re going to lose him and, with him, any chance of winning the base. He has command codes we need to cut off Norcross’s access to escape craft, combat drones, and everything else.
Well, I wouldn’t actually say we can’t win the base without him, Tabirus sent rather casually, and I elbowed him hard in the ribs. He blinked at me.
I scowled back. Stop second-guessing my mate. She’s right at least as often as you are.
He sighed and nodded. “All right, then.” He turned to the assistant he had drafted, who was sitting there wearing a vacant smile as the first threads of bronze and gold crept into his irises. “Dr. Eastman, we’re needed upstairs. I’d like you to monitor the culturing tanks and let me know when they’re completely full.” He went over to the machine that Eastman had put the small dish of Golden Strain culture in. Scooping the dish up, he turned on his heel and strode toward the door. I trailed after him, pretending reluctance.