Fic: Aral Vorkosigan's Dog 11/15
Title: Aral Vorkosigan's Dog 11/15
Rating/warnings: R, Shards-level sexual and physical violence
Length: 70k (this chapter 3300 words)
Summary: Illyan is assigned to watch Aral Vorkosigan during the Escobaran war. Soon he has to choose between his duty and his conscience, and the consequences rapidly get beyond him.
Index Post
Previous Chapter
From where he stood, Illyan could not see in. He heard the woman give a cry of surprise, but Vorkosigan did not fire. Instead, in a broad Betan accent the woman said, "My God, you almost gave me heart failure. Come in, and close the door."
Vorkosigan stepped into the room and Illyan hurried after him, so tense he could barely breathe. He smelt blood. His eyes darted around the room and stopped mesmerized by the sight of Vorrutyer, his trousers round his ankles, sprawled on the floor in a pool of blood. Already dead. The woman was as white as Vorkosigan, standing quite still near the body and staring at them. Blood was smeared on her hands. Sergeant Bothari was huddled on the floor in a corner, muttering to himself, also bloodsoaked. Injured?
"There's been an accident," the woman said. Illyan looked at her again sharply as his whirling mind provided a name and far more information for her face than he could process at once. With an effort he pulled out the salient facts. This was the Betan woman, Commander Cordelia Naismith, whom Vorkosigan had encountered on Sergyar, whom, if the reports were to be trusted, Vorkosigan had asked to be his wife. Complications multiplied exponentially in his mind like bacteria, and it was a moment before he could respond to Vorkosigan's request for him to close the door. He looked at Vorkosigan. His face was frozen, and even with several months of intensive practice Illyan could not discern his thoughts.
"You're going to have to witness this with the greatest attention," Vorkosigan said to him.
Illyan didn't need to be told this. It seemed that their death sentences were temporarily suspended. As he managed to process the rest of his data about Captain Naismith, some of his stunned amazement left him. This was the woman who had single-handedly, in an operation so risky and daring as to shock even an ImpSec officer, put down that mutiny by Radnov, without even loss of life. And now it seemed she had done Vorkosigan's work for him again. Illyan regarded her warily. Rescuing her seemed a little unnecessary. Fortunately, she didn't seem inclined to push her advantage. With Vorkosigan's obvious conflict of interest, Illyan had doubts about his ability to overpower her alone if she tried to continue her path of mayhem through the ship. Letting Vorkosigan murder superior officers was one thing, but letting a Betan do so would be harder to explain to the Emperor.
He forced his mind to turn to his duty of examining the evidence, pushing away the thousands of terrifying possibilities at Vorkosigan's order. Vorkosigan pointed with his plasma arc (fully charged, with the safety off and Vorkosigan's finger still running over the trigger) at the blood spatter patterns on the bed. Illyan made a little noise of alarmed protest and Vorkosigan mercifully holstered the weapon.
Then Illyan left Vorkosigan staring at the body and began to quarter and re-quarter the room methodically. When he had been in here before, he had preferred not to look at the little pieces of revolting artwork and the stranger parts of the décor. Now he gazed at the chains on the bedposts, scanned the titles of the books on the shelf, opened the cabinet full of drugs he had only heard about. The combination of the contents of the room, the smell of drying blood and the sudden release of mortal tension were making his stomach churn. He stared for a long time into a drawer of disturbing sex toys. Vorkosigan and Admiral Vorrutyer might have once used ... he cut that thought off forcibly. He was glad that evidence-gathering procedures had been drilled into him so deeply that they were instinctive, since he could barely grasp at coherent thought. All he knew was that he was flying blind now, careening towards unknown disasters. What would this mean for the invasion, for Vorkosigan's plans, for all of them?
Behind him, Vorkosigan was speaking quietly to Captain Naismith.
"The Emperor, for one, will be delighted. But strictly in private."
"In fact, I was tied up at the time. Sergeant Bothari, um, did the honours."
That fitted with the blood patterns. Illyan did not dare to rouse Bothari to examine the stains more closely, but there was no doubt that he was the more soaked. But--Bothari? How? Why? It was becoming increasingly clear to Illyan that he was out of his depth. The comment about the Emperor he flagged up on his chip for analysis later. There was too much to deal with all at once here for in-depth political considerations, and at any moment they could be interrupted. He called up the schedule for the rest of the day on his chip, but he didn't have enough data for Vorruyter's movements to know when this would be discovered.
"As soon as you're done, Illyan, I suggest we adjourn to my cabin for further discussion."
It was hard for Illyan to force himself to continue his examination once the prospect of escape opened up before him. He watched as Naismith approached Bothari without a hint of fear. Had she somehow suborned him? But how could anyone suborn a lunatic? She coaxed him up and he followed her, his hand in hers like a child. Illyan swallowed.
The dangerous moment in the corridor was quickly over and they were all installed in Vorkosigan's cabin. Illyan waited tensely through the brief explanations between Vorkosigan and his lady, one wary eye on the pacing, muttering Bothari, trying to hold on to his mask of calm. He shook Captain Naismith's hand politely when Vorkosigan introduced him, then wondered whether he should have saluted instead when he found congealing blood smeared on his hand. He wiped it on his handkerchief carefully and made a note to put it into the first waste incinerator he passed, lest he be found with incriminating evidence on him.
The presence of Naismith was clearly distracting Vorkosigan, his intent focus from earlier diverted into concern for her, but when Illyan asked what they should do, he discovered that Vorkosigan had been thinking in several directions at once. After a few more minutes of plans they went out to raise the alarm, leaving the two victim/killers alone in Vorkosigan's cabin.
The cabin door slid shut. Illyan paused at the lock, but there was no time for debates. Hopefully, Naismith would be able to keep Bothari under control until he could fetch a sedative. He followed Vorkosigan's swift march down the corridor. At the junction, he stopped dead as he realised that their plan was already doomed to disaster. The bugs. Vorrutyer's cabin was certainly monitored, and even though it was obvious that the security tech hadn't happened to be viewing that particular feed in real-time--since if he had they would all be under arrest already--as soon as they sounded the alarm it would be the first thing even the dimmest security officer would look at.
Vorkosigan jerked his head impatiently at him, but Illyan instead reached for the security console at the entrance to the staff officer's quarters. Vorkosigan gave him a frustrated stare, unable to speak because whilst the corridors were not visually monitored, they were bugged for sound. Illyan called up records, then paused for thought. This had to look like Naismith had done it, he couldn't just enter his ImpSec override codes. Illumination crossed Vorkosigan's face as he saw what Illyan was doing, and he gestured him to continue.
Within two minutes, Illyan had the database of bug recordings open to him. He wiped everything from the entire staff officers' corridor for the past hour, to be safe, and then put the previous hour's feeds onto a loop as a cheap cover-up to buy a bit more time. He hesitated for a moment over the rest of the data--there were so many false trails he could lay, so many things he could do--but they were out of time. He killed the power and stood up again. Vorkosigan gave him an approving nod and they hurried off again.
They came to the bridge, past the saluting guard, and went through the doorway. Illyan scanned the room. There was no sign that the news had gone ahead of them, no panic. Venne, Vorhalas and the Prince's ADC Lieutenant Lord Vormoncrief were conferring over a pile of flimsies, and the rest of the flagship's officers were at their posts, busy but relaxed. Only Venne looked up as they entered.
"Sound the alarm, amber alert," Vorkosigan said immediately, his voice carrying over the conversations amongst the officers. "Vorrutyer's been killed."
Vormoncrief jerked as if shot, and Vorhalas turned to stare at them. Venne reacted with combat-honed instincts, turning to his security officer, a Lieutenant Sindhi, who fumbled for his control panel. A moment later the klaxon began to wail.
"Killed?" Vorhalas demanded, starting up from his station chair. "How? What happened?"
Vorkosigan strode over to join them at the captain's console. "His throat was cut. Looks like one of his little games with a prisoner backfired on him."
Vorhalas flinched, and Venne's eyes went wide. "God," he muttered, "I did ask him to please leave our prisoners in the brig. More than once."
Illyan was faintly cheered by that. He'd always respected the flagship's XO, and it seems his instincts were right.
Vormoncrief said, "The Prince must be informed at once,"
"Yes. And get the ship on full security lockdown. And we'll need forensic and medical teams," Vorkosigan added. "Illyan, see to it."
Illyan jerked his head, understanding the opportunity Vorkosigan was feeding him to talk to Dr Lavalle. He sat down next to Lieutenant Sindhi. "Get a forensic team," he told Sindhi. "I'll contact sickbay."
Sindhi was already conferring with his guards. "You saw the scene-were there any signs of where the killer went?"
"I didn't have time to investigate," Illyan said. "Could be anywhere by now." He typed into the console, and a moment later Captain Dr Lavalle answered personally, due to the ImpSec code Illyan had embedded in the call.
"Yes, Lieutenant?" he said in his mild voice.
"Please report to Commodore Vorkosigan with a full medical kit immediately," Illyan said, emphasising the word 'full' with a hard stare at Lavalle. "Admiral Vorrutyer has been murdered."
Lavalle nodded serenely. "I'm on it."
"Where is the Prince?" Vorkosigan was asking the ADC. "We'll need him here."
"You do not give orders to his Highness, Commodore," Vormoncrief said aloofly. Illyan's head went up, but Vorkosigan merely replied, "We'll go to him, then. He must be informed at once. He's in sole command now."
"The Prince is in his quarters, sir," said Sindhi after a quick check of his console.
"Fine. Have the forensic and medical teams meet us there, then, and we'll go straight on to Vorrutyer's cabin."
Leaving Sindhi and Venne co-ordinating the security lockdown, Admiral Vorhalas and the Prince's ADC followed Vorkosigan through the ship, escorted by two pairs of black-clad marines. Illyan displayed all the signs of alertness as well, as if he were expecting Betan saboteur-assassins to leap out from every corner.
Captain Lavalle and his medical team caught up with them at the end of the staff officers' corridor, right by the guard post where Illyan had sabotaged the surveillance system. He came up alongside Illyan.
"A pretty little mess, Lieutenant," he said quietly. "The Admiral murdered. And what exactly did you have to do with this?"
Illyan shot him an unamused glower. "Nothing." His voice dropped lower still. "I need a sedative. Strong." He suddenly thought of something else. All this effort for the one prisoner, but there was still the other girl, the one he had failed. He could rescue her too now. "And get to Sergeant Bothari's cabin, as soon as you can. There's a girl in there. She needs help."
Lavalle's eyes widened briefly, but he couldn't answer, since they had reached the Prince's door and Vorhalas and Vormoncrief were jockeying over knocking and going in. Vorkosigan watched sardonically, and the marines took up stations a little way off.
The Prince finally opened his door. "What do you want?" he grumbled, eyeing the assembled men in disfavour. "What's all this about?"
"Vorrutyer's been killed," Vorkosigan said bluntly, overriding the ADC's beginning apologies. "You're in sole command now."
Illyan, watching intently, nearly jumped when a small packet insinuated itself into his hand. "That'll stop a charging elephant," Lavalle murmured. "Care to tell me who your victim will be?"
Illyan shook his head and slipped the ampules into his pocket, his eyes still fixed on the Prince.
"Killed?" the Prince echoed. For a moment he looked very young and very shocked. Vormoncrief pushed forward.
"Yes, my lord," he said. "Commodore Vorkosigan found his body just now. He said he thought a prisoner might have done it."
"We're about to go and examine the scene," Admiral Vorhalas added. "We're just waiting on Sindhi and the forensic team-ah, here they come."
The Prince stumbled out into the corridor, his expression still dazed. "What prisoner?"
Vorkosigan opened his mouth to answer, and Illyan kicked his ankle stealthily. Vorkosigan blinked at him and pressed his lips together. The last thing they needed now was Vorkosigan drawing any extra attention to himself.
"Commander Venne will be investigating which prisoners are missing," Vorhalas said. "I think we should look at the scene first. The marines have secured the area." He opened Vorrutyer's door, and the Prince went in, followed by the forensic and medical teams, Vorhalas and Vorkosigan.
Illyan's gaze darted to Vorkosigan's door. He had no idea whether or how Captain Naismith was managing to keep Bothari under control in there. If Bothari made a disturbance, or indeed, decided to continue his throat-slitting on the only available victim, it would all be up. He lingered in the corridor as everyone trooped into Vorrutyer's cabin, then pressed his palm to Vorkosigan's door lock. He was relieved to see no fresh blood. Illyan handed the sedatives to Captain Naismith (providing a valuable weapon to an enemy soldier at large on a Barrayaran ship, said Negri's voice in his head) and darted out again.
The commando guards were staring into Vorrutyer's cabin along with everyone else, Illyan noted. He moved silently to join them, then entered the cabin. The reason for everyone's staring was immediately obvious. The Prince had flung himself on top of Vorrutyer's body and was holding it, muttering incoherently. Illyan edged closer to Vorkosigan, who was stony-faced. Vorhalas looked frustrated.
After a moment, Vorkosigan stepped forward and stooped over the Prince, not quite daring to touch him. "You're contaminating the evidence," he said. "Get up and let the forensic team do their work."
Sindhi shot him a glance of thanks. The Prince lingered a moment longer, then stumbled back. Drying blood streaked his chest. He turned on Vorkosigan with a wild look in his eyes.
"I would have thought you could at least pretend to care. You had him first, after all. He never got over the way you treated him."
All the forensic, medical and security men developed extremely wooden expressions. Illyan tensed, but Vorkosigan simply turned away. Vorhalas waved the forensic team forward, and with wary sidelong glances at the Prince they began to examine the area around Vorrutyer's body.
The Prince glared at the forensic officers. "We don't need any of this. It's obvious who killed him."
Sindhi's head went up alertly, as did Lavalle's. Illyan rather thought he knew what was coming.
"You're the one who wanted him dead."
Vorkosigan went rigid. Illyan shifted his balance slightly, ready to move if he needed to. Ready to act. Though how he could help here, he had no idea. But it was his duty to defend Vorkosigan now.
"Absurd," Vorkosigan ground out through set teeth.
Illyan began to race through the evidence they'd left behind them. Vorkosigan might not be guilty of the murder-though Illyan knew full well that it was only because Vorrutyer had already been dead when they got there-but he was shielding the true killer, not to mention an escaped POW. If there was some subtle detail Illyan hadn't thought of, something that would betray them, he needed to think of it now.
"You hated Ges, you always did," the Prince went on, his voice rising. "I saw the way you looked at him. And we're just supposed to take your word for it that you happened to wander into his cabin and find his body? Do you think I'm an idiot?"
Everyone was staring at Vorkosigan now. Sindhi frowned in thought. "But in that case, sir, the prisoner-" he began, and Illyan knew what his question would be. Sindhi was a good security officer, evidently, and his mind worked in the same way that Illyan's did. But not quite as quickly.
"You mean, sir, Commodore Vorkosigan's word supported by my testimony," he said in a clear voice.
The Prince turned his flushed face to Illyan. "You?" he said in scathing tones. "Vorkosigan's lapdog? And cocksucker, I've no doubt? Why should I believe a word you say?"
Vorkosigan had turned to stare at Illyan, along with everyone else in the room. But at least their attention was diverted from Sindhi's uncomfortably astute question. Illyan decided to make sure of it. It was impossible for him to get into more trouble than he was already in, no matter what he said to the Prince.
"I serve your father," Illyan retorted. "He will receive my report."
The Prince took a step towards him, eyes burning. "That-" he struck Illyan hard across the face "-for my father."
Illyan's head snapped back. Lavalle, watching up till now with detached interest, put out a hand to steady him. Vorkosigan moved towards the Prince, who recoiled from what he saw on Vorkosigan's face.
"You always did prefer to hit people who wouldn't hit back," he growled. "Control yourself."
Illyan realised then just how seriously Vorkosigan took that unvoiced heart-oath made barely half an hour ago. A liegeman was owed a duty of protection from his lord. He cast Vorkosigan a warning glance. Back off, I'm all right. But Vorkosigan's anger pushed the Prince over the edge.
"Security," he shrieked, "arrest Commodore Vorkosigan and take him to the brig."
Vorkosigan stood like a stone. It was noticeable, Illyan thought, that the burly marines looked to Lieutenant Sindhi for confirmation of the Prince's orders, in clear violation of regs. Sindhi stared equally pleadingly at Admiral Vorhalas.
Vorhalas, silent up till now, intervened. "Think what you're saying, sir," he said. "You are understandably ... upset by this tragedy. But the forensic team have barely started to gather the evidence, much less consider it. And-without Admiral Vorrutyer, Aral will be needed for the invasion."
"We don't need a traitor and mutineer marshalling Barrayaran troops," the Prince retorted-a remarkably cogent argument, Illyan thought. "He is to be imprisoned for the duration of this expedition, and when we return to Barrayar he will go back for that treason trial he weaselled out of before we left." He glowered at the marines. "Take him to the brig."
Two marines approached Vorkosigan, looking like men asked to destroy their god. Illyan matched one as a Komarr veteran. With a wry grimace, Vorkosigan held his arms stiffly away from his side and permitted them to remove his sidearms.
"I must protest, sir," Vorhalas said. "For all we know, there was some kind of breakout from the brig mixed up in this. And for a Vor lord and Staff officer…"
"Confined to quarters, then," the Prince spat. "Now take him away."
Illyan, who had been fading into the background during this scene, was relieved not to be included in Vorkosigan's arrest orders. The two marines took Vorkosigan by the arms and turned him around. Illyan had arrested grandmothers with more severity. He preceded Vorkosigan out the door of Vorrutyer's cabin. Now all he had to do was prevent them from entering the cabin… or prevent Vorkosigan doing anything stupid if they did discover Captain Naismith and Bothari. He rehearsed four plausible explanations for their presence in his mind.
But it all went like clockwork. The guards halted either side of the door, Illyan pressed his palm to the lock and stood so that his body prevented the guards from seeing in. Vorkosigan entered, Illyan followed, and it was done.
***
Next Chapter
Rating/warnings: R, Shards-level sexual and physical violence
Length: 70k (this chapter 3300 words)
Summary: Illyan is assigned to watch Aral Vorkosigan during the Escobaran war. Soon he has to choose between his duty and his conscience, and the consequences rapidly get beyond him.
Index Post
Previous Chapter
From where he stood, Illyan could not see in. He heard the woman give a cry of surprise, but Vorkosigan did not fire. Instead, in a broad Betan accent the woman said, "My God, you almost gave me heart failure. Come in, and close the door."
Vorkosigan stepped into the room and Illyan hurried after him, so tense he could barely breathe. He smelt blood. His eyes darted around the room and stopped mesmerized by the sight of Vorrutyer, his trousers round his ankles, sprawled on the floor in a pool of blood. Already dead. The woman was as white as Vorkosigan, standing quite still near the body and staring at them. Blood was smeared on her hands. Sergeant Bothari was huddled on the floor in a corner, muttering to himself, also bloodsoaked. Injured?
"There's been an accident," the woman said. Illyan looked at her again sharply as his whirling mind provided a name and far more information for her face than he could process at once. With an effort he pulled out the salient facts. This was the Betan woman, Commander Cordelia Naismith, whom Vorkosigan had encountered on Sergyar, whom, if the reports were to be trusted, Vorkosigan had asked to be his wife. Complications multiplied exponentially in his mind like bacteria, and it was a moment before he could respond to Vorkosigan's request for him to close the door. He looked at Vorkosigan. His face was frozen, and even with several months of intensive practice Illyan could not discern his thoughts.
"You're going to have to witness this with the greatest attention," Vorkosigan said to him.
Illyan didn't need to be told this. It seemed that their death sentences were temporarily suspended. As he managed to process the rest of his data about Captain Naismith, some of his stunned amazement left him. This was the woman who had single-handedly, in an operation so risky and daring as to shock even an ImpSec officer, put down that mutiny by Radnov, without even loss of life. And now it seemed she had done Vorkosigan's work for him again. Illyan regarded her warily. Rescuing her seemed a little unnecessary. Fortunately, she didn't seem inclined to push her advantage. With Vorkosigan's obvious conflict of interest, Illyan had doubts about his ability to overpower her alone if she tried to continue her path of mayhem through the ship. Letting Vorkosigan murder superior officers was one thing, but letting a Betan do so would be harder to explain to the Emperor.
He forced his mind to turn to his duty of examining the evidence, pushing away the thousands of terrifying possibilities at Vorkosigan's order. Vorkosigan pointed with his plasma arc (fully charged, with the safety off and Vorkosigan's finger still running over the trigger) at the blood spatter patterns on the bed. Illyan made a little noise of alarmed protest and Vorkosigan mercifully holstered the weapon.
Then Illyan left Vorkosigan staring at the body and began to quarter and re-quarter the room methodically. When he had been in here before, he had preferred not to look at the little pieces of revolting artwork and the stranger parts of the décor. Now he gazed at the chains on the bedposts, scanned the titles of the books on the shelf, opened the cabinet full of drugs he had only heard about. The combination of the contents of the room, the smell of drying blood and the sudden release of mortal tension were making his stomach churn. He stared for a long time into a drawer of disturbing sex toys. Vorkosigan and Admiral Vorrutyer might have once used ... he cut that thought off forcibly. He was glad that evidence-gathering procedures had been drilled into him so deeply that they were instinctive, since he could barely grasp at coherent thought. All he knew was that he was flying blind now, careening towards unknown disasters. What would this mean for the invasion, for Vorkosigan's plans, for all of them?
Behind him, Vorkosigan was speaking quietly to Captain Naismith.
"The Emperor, for one, will be delighted. But strictly in private."
"In fact, I was tied up at the time. Sergeant Bothari, um, did the honours."
That fitted with the blood patterns. Illyan did not dare to rouse Bothari to examine the stains more closely, but there was no doubt that he was the more soaked. But--Bothari? How? Why? It was becoming increasingly clear to Illyan that he was out of his depth. The comment about the Emperor he flagged up on his chip for analysis later. There was too much to deal with all at once here for in-depth political considerations, and at any moment they could be interrupted. He called up the schedule for the rest of the day on his chip, but he didn't have enough data for Vorruyter's movements to know when this would be discovered.
"As soon as you're done, Illyan, I suggest we adjourn to my cabin for further discussion."
It was hard for Illyan to force himself to continue his examination once the prospect of escape opened up before him. He watched as Naismith approached Bothari without a hint of fear. Had she somehow suborned him? But how could anyone suborn a lunatic? She coaxed him up and he followed her, his hand in hers like a child. Illyan swallowed.
The dangerous moment in the corridor was quickly over and they were all installed in Vorkosigan's cabin. Illyan waited tensely through the brief explanations between Vorkosigan and his lady, one wary eye on the pacing, muttering Bothari, trying to hold on to his mask of calm. He shook Captain Naismith's hand politely when Vorkosigan introduced him, then wondered whether he should have saluted instead when he found congealing blood smeared on his hand. He wiped it on his handkerchief carefully and made a note to put it into the first waste incinerator he passed, lest he be found with incriminating evidence on him.
The presence of Naismith was clearly distracting Vorkosigan, his intent focus from earlier diverted into concern for her, but when Illyan asked what they should do, he discovered that Vorkosigan had been thinking in several directions at once. After a few more minutes of plans they went out to raise the alarm, leaving the two victim/killers alone in Vorkosigan's cabin.
The cabin door slid shut. Illyan paused at the lock, but there was no time for debates. Hopefully, Naismith would be able to keep Bothari under control until he could fetch a sedative. He followed Vorkosigan's swift march down the corridor. At the junction, he stopped dead as he realised that their plan was already doomed to disaster. The bugs. Vorrutyer's cabin was certainly monitored, and even though it was obvious that the security tech hadn't happened to be viewing that particular feed in real-time--since if he had they would all be under arrest already--as soon as they sounded the alarm it would be the first thing even the dimmest security officer would look at.
Vorkosigan jerked his head impatiently at him, but Illyan instead reached for the security console at the entrance to the staff officer's quarters. Vorkosigan gave him a frustrated stare, unable to speak because whilst the corridors were not visually monitored, they were bugged for sound. Illyan called up records, then paused for thought. This had to look like Naismith had done it, he couldn't just enter his ImpSec override codes. Illumination crossed Vorkosigan's face as he saw what Illyan was doing, and he gestured him to continue.
Within two minutes, Illyan had the database of bug recordings open to him. He wiped everything from the entire staff officers' corridor for the past hour, to be safe, and then put the previous hour's feeds onto a loop as a cheap cover-up to buy a bit more time. He hesitated for a moment over the rest of the data--there were so many false trails he could lay, so many things he could do--but they were out of time. He killed the power and stood up again. Vorkosigan gave him an approving nod and they hurried off again.
They came to the bridge, past the saluting guard, and went through the doorway. Illyan scanned the room. There was no sign that the news had gone ahead of them, no panic. Venne, Vorhalas and the Prince's ADC Lieutenant Lord Vormoncrief were conferring over a pile of flimsies, and the rest of the flagship's officers were at their posts, busy but relaxed. Only Venne looked up as they entered.
"Sound the alarm, amber alert," Vorkosigan said immediately, his voice carrying over the conversations amongst the officers. "Vorrutyer's been killed."
Vormoncrief jerked as if shot, and Vorhalas turned to stare at them. Venne reacted with combat-honed instincts, turning to his security officer, a Lieutenant Sindhi, who fumbled for his control panel. A moment later the klaxon began to wail.
"Killed?" Vorhalas demanded, starting up from his station chair. "How? What happened?"
Vorkosigan strode over to join them at the captain's console. "His throat was cut. Looks like one of his little games with a prisoner backfired on him."
Vorhalas flinched, and Venne's eyes went wide. "God," he muttered, "I did ask him to please leave our prisoners in the brig. More than once."
Illyan was faintly cheered by that. He'd always respected the flagship's XO, and it seems his instincts were right.
Vormoncrief said, "The Prince must be informed at once,"
"Yes. And get the ship on full security lockdown. And we'll need forensic and medical teams," Vorkosigan added. "Illyan, see to it."
Illyan jerked his head, understanding the opportunity Vorkosigan was feeding him to talk to Dr Lavalle. He sat down next to Lieutenant Sindhi. "Get a forensic team," he told Sindhi. "I'll contact sickbay."
Sindhi was already conferring with his guards. "You saw the scene-were there any signs of where the killer went?"
"I didn't have time to investigate," Illyan said. "Could be anywhere by now." He typed into the console, and a moment later Captain Dr Lavalle answered personally, due to the ImpSec code Illyan had embedded in the call.
"Yes, Lieutenant?" he said in his mild voice.
"Please report to Commodore Vorkosigan with a full medical kit immediately," Illyan said, emphasising the word 'full' with a hard stare at Lavalle. "Admiral Vorrutyer has been murdered."
Lavalle nodded serenely. "I'm on it."
"Where is the Prince?" Vorkosigan was asking the ADC. "We'll need him here."
"You do not give orders to his Highness, Commodore," Vormoncrief said aloofly. Illyan's head went up, but Vorkosigan merely replied, "We'll go to him, then. He must be informed at once. He's in sole command now."
"The Prince is in his quarters, sir," said Sindhi after a quick check of his console.
"Fine. Have the forensic and medical teams meet us there, then, and we'll go straight on to Vorrutyer's cabin."
Leaving Sindhi and Venne co-ordinating the security lockdown, Admiral Vorhalas and the Prince's ADC followed Vorkosigan through the ship, escorted by two pairs of black-clad marines. Illyan displayed all the signs of alertness as well, as if he were expecting Betan saboteur-assassins to leap out from every corner.
Captain Lavalle and his medical team caught up with them at the end of the staff officers' corridor, right by the guard post where Illyan had sabotaged the surveillance system. He came up alongside Illyan.
"A pretty little mess, Lieutenant," he said quietly. "The Admiral murdered. And what exactly did you have to do with this?"
Illyan shot him an unamused glower. "Nothing." His voice dropped lower still. "I need a sedative. Strong." He suddenly thought of something else. All this effort for the one prisoner, but there was still the other girl, the one he had failed. He could rescue her too now. "And get to Sergeant Bothari's cabin, as soon as you can. There's a girl in there. She needs help."
Lavalle's eyes widened briefly, but he couldn't answer, since they had reached the Prince's door and Vorhalas and Vormoncrief were jockeying over knocking and going in. Vorkosigan watched sardonically, and the marines took up stations a little way off.
The Prince finally opened his door. "What do you want?" he grumbled, eyeing the assembled men in disfavour. "What's all this about?"
"Vorrutyer's been killed," Vorkosigan said bluntly, overriding the ADC's beginning apologies. "You're in sole command now."
Illyan, watching intently, nearly jumped when a small packet insinuated itself into his hand. "That'll stop a charging elephant," Lavalle murmured. "Care to tell me who your victim will be?"
Illyan shook his head and slipped the ampules into his pocket, his eyes still fixed on the Prince.
"Killed?" the Prince echoed. For a moment he looked very young and very shocked. Vormoncrief pushed forward.
"Yes, my lord," he said. "Commodore Vorkosigan found his body just now. He said he thought a prisoner might have done it."
"We're about to go and examine the scene," Admiral Vorhalas added. "We're just waiting on Sindhi and the forensic team-ah, here they come."
The Prince stumbled out into the corridor, his expression still dazed. "What prisoner?"
Vorkosigan opened his mouth to answer, and Illyan kicked his ankle stealthily. Vorkosigan blinked at him and pressed his lips together. The last thing they needed now was Vorkosigan drawing any extra attention to himself.
"Commander Venne will be investigating which prisoners are missing," Vorhalas said. "I think we should look at the scene first. The marines have secured the area." He opened Vorrutyer's door, and the Prince went in, followed by the forensic and medical teams, Vorhalas and Vorkosigan.
Illyan's gaze darted to Vorkosigan's door. He had no idea whether or how Captain Naismith was managing to keep Bothari under control in there. If Bothari made a disturbance, or indeed, decided to continue his throat-slitting on the only available victim, it would all be up. He lingered in the corridor as everyone trooped into Vorrutyer's cabin, then pressed his palm to Vorkosigan's door lock. He was relieved to see no fresh blood. Illyan handed the sedatives to Captain Naismith (providing a valuable weapon to an enemy soldier at large on a Barrayaran ship, said Negri's voice in his head) and darted out again.
The commando guards were staring into Vorrutyer's cabin along with everyone else, Illyan noted. He moved silently to join them, then entered the cabin. The reason for everyone's staring was immediately obvious. The Prince had flung himself on top of Vorrutyer's body and was holding it, muttering incoherently. Illyan edged closer to Vorkosigan, who was stony-faced. Vorhalas looked frustrated.
After a moment, Vorkosigan stepped forward and stooped over the Prince, not quite daring to touch him. "You're contaminating the evidence," he said. "Get up and let the forensic team do their work."
Sindhi shot him a glance of thanks. The Prince lingered a moment longer, then stumbled back. Drying blood streaked his chest. He turned on Vorkosigan with a wild look in his eyes.
"I would have thought you could at least pretend to care. You had him first, after all. He never got over the way you treated him."
All the forensic, medical and security men developed extremely wooden expressions. Illyan tensed, but Vorkosigan simply turned away. Vorhalas waved the forensic team forward, and with wary sidelong glances at the Prince they began to examine the area around Vorrutyer's body.
The Prince glared at the forensic officers. "We don't need any of this. It's obvious who killed him."
Sindhi's head went up alertly, as did Lavalle's. Illyan rather thought he knew what was coming.
"You're the one who wanted him dead."
Vorkosigan went rigid. Illyan shifted his balance slightly, ready to move if he needed to. Ready to act. Though how he could help here, he had no idea. But it was his duty to defend Vorkosigan now.
"Absurd," Vorkosigan ground out through set teeth.
Illyan began to race through the evidence they'd left behind them. Vorkosigan might not be guilty of the murder-though Illyan knew full well that it was only because Vorrutyer had already been dead when they got there-but he was shielding the true killer, not to mention an escaped POW. If there was some subtle detail Illyan hadn't thought of, something that would betray them, he needed to think of it now.
"You hated Ges, you always did," the Prince went on, his voice rising. "I saw the way you looked at him. And we're just supposed to take your word for it that you happened to wander into his cabin and find his body? Do you think I'm an idiot?"
Everyone was staring at Vorkosigan now. Sindhi frowned in thought. "But in that case, sir, the prisoner-" he began, and Illyan knew what his question would be. Sindhi was a good security officer, evidently, and his mind worked in the same way that Illyan's did. But not quite as quickly.
"You mean, sir, Commodore Vorkosigan's word supported by my testimony," he said in a clear voice.
The Prince turned his flushed face to Illyan. "You?" he said in scathing tones. "Vorkosigan's lapdog? And cocksucker, I've no doubt? Why should I believe a word you say?"
Vorkosigan had turned to stare at Illyan, along with everyone else in the room. But at least their attention was diverted from Sindhi's uncomfortably astute question. Illyan decided to make sure of it. It was impossible for him to get into more trouble than he was already in, no matter what he said to the Prince.
"I serve your father," Illyan retorted. "He will receive my report."
The Prince took a step towards him, eyes burning. "That-" he struck Illyan hard across the face "-for my father."
Illyan's head snapped back. Lavalle, watching up till now with detached interest, put out a hand to steady him. Vorkosigan moved towards the Prince, who recoiled from what he saw on Vorkosigan's face.
"You always did prefer to hit people who wouldn't hit back," he growled. "Control yourself."
Illyan realised then just how seriously Vorkosigan took that unvoiced heart-oath made barely half an hour ago. A liegeman was owed a duty of protection from his lord. He cast Vorkosigan a warning glance. Back off, I'm all right. But Vorkosigan's anger pushed the Prince over the edge.
"Security," he shrieked, "arrest Commodore Vorkosigan and take him to the brig."
Vorkosigan stood like a stone. It was noticeable, Illyan thought, that the burly marines looked to Lieutenant Sindhi for confirmation of the Prince's orders, in clear violation of regs. Sindhi stared equally pleadingly at Admiral Vorhalas.
Vorhalas, silent up till now, intervened. "Think what you're saying, sir," he said. "You are understandably ... upset by this tragedy. But the forensic team have barely started to gather the evidence, much less consider it. And-without Admiral Vorrutyer, Aral will be needed for the invasion."
"We don't need a traitor and mutineer marshalling Barrayaran troops," the Prince retorted-a remarkably cogent argument, Illyan thought. "He is to be imprisoned for the duration of this expedition, and when we return to Barrayar he will go back for that treason trial he weaselled out of before we left." He glowered at the marines. "Take him to the brig."
Two marines approached Vorkosigan, looking like men asked to destroy their god. Illyan matched one as a Komarr veteran. With a wry grimace, Vorkosigan held his arms stiffly away from his side and permitted them to remove his sidearms.
"I must protest, sir," Vorhalas said. "For all we know, there was some kind of breakout from the brig mixed up in this. And for a Vor lord and Staff officer…"
"Confined to quarters, then," the Prince spat. "Now take him away."
Illyan, who had been fading into the background during this scene, was relieved not to be included in Vorkosigan's arrest orders. The two marines took Vorkosigan by the arms and turned him around. Illyan had arrested grandmothers with more severity. He preceded Vorkosigan out the door of Vorrutyer's cabin. Now all he had to do was prevent them from entering the cabin… or prevent Vorkosigan doing anything stupid if they did discover Captain Naismith and Bothari. He rehearsed four plausible explanations for their presence in his mind.
But it all went like clockwork. The guards halted either side of the door, Illyan pressed his palm to the lock and stood so that his body prevented the guards from seeing in. Vorkosigan entered, Illyan followed, and it was done.
***
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