Scattered Suns - Kevin J. Anderson [37]
From the flagship’s command nucleus, Zan’nh cried out in anguish. Not long ago he had endured as many deaths on Hrel-oro, victims of the hydrogues. But this time Ildirans had just slaughtered all of those soldiers. Ildirans! The very idea was inconceivable after ten thousand years of history.
“Adar! Please make him stop this!” one of his bridge officers cried.
The mad Designate said in a taunting voice, “It has been another three minutes.” Even before Zan’nh could look up to the screen, the pleasure mates killed another hostage, and warm blood spilled into the Adar’s mental network. The screams continued their relentless, dissonant symphony in his mind. The Adar could not regain his mental balance. He could not reach a decision. It was too much, too fast, too impossible. He was suffocating.
But he was Adar of the Solar Navy. He must not allow a maniple of warships to fall into the hands of this insane rebellious Designate. He must not—
Thor’h transmitted from the bridge of the captured warliner, “My weapons systems are powered and ready, Imperator Rusa’h. Shall I target a second warliner? We would still have an acceptable force if we were left with forty-five ships—or even forty, should the Adar continue to force our hand.”
“Thor’h, you may destroy another entire warliner,” Rusa’h answered from the captured docking bay, “if it proves necessary. Adar, what say you? Thousands of lives are in your hands—whether Thor’h targets another ship, or you yourself order the destruction of the lead warliner. Thousands.”
Zan’nh called hoarsely over the general channel, “Evasive maneuvers, all warliners! Keep away from Thor’h’s ship. Amplify shields to maximum.”
Thor’h chuckled. “That won’t do, brother. You’ll never guess which one I might target, and these augmented weapons are designed to crack hydrogue hulls—they can certainly penetrate your own shields.”
In the corridors outside the docking bay, extraction teams continued to work at the wall. Zan’nh demanded an update. “Still at least forty minutes, Adar.”
His throat clenched. Forty minutes was enough time for Rusa’h to kill more than a dozen additional captives, enough time for Thor’h to destroy several warliners—unless Zan’nh ordered the destruction of the rebel warliner, murdered all the thousands of helpless innocent crewmen...And, even once the assault team broke into the besieged docking bay, the Designate’s rebels would go down fighting. More of his crewmembers would die in a deadly shootout, including many of the hostages.
More blood, waves and waves of it! This was simply unacceptable. Could capitulation buy him more time to make a plan? He couldn’t be sure.
“Bring the next victim. And Thor’h, prepare another warliner target,” Designate Rusa’h said with a disappointed sigh. “More deaths on your hands, Adar. Just imagine how you will be remembered in the Saga of Seven Suns.”
“Stop!” Zan’nh cried. “If I...if I yield for now, do you swear not to harm more of my crew? Will you order Thor’h not to shoot any more warliners?”
“I never wished to kill them, Adar,” Rusa’h answered, the epitome of reason and sanity. “Such a foolish waste. But I do require your Solar Navy for my own purposes. I am forced to these drastic measures only because I must have your cooperation.”
Zan’nh had stalled the rebel Designate past the allowed three minutes, and Rusa’h noticed as well. He turned to the bloodthirsty pleasure mates. “Kill another one...and draw out the pain, if you can. Perhaps this will be the last. Our Adar must learn to make decisions more quickly and firmly.”
The crystal knives were raised. A female protocol soldier stared up at her captors in resentful resignation. One of the vicious pleasure mates yanked the captive’s head back to expose her throat.
“I yield!” Zan’nh shouted. “If you swear not to kill any more of them, then I yield.” For