Unseen by the others, Dr. Wells winked at her.
She got through the rest of the leave-taking without sounding too idiotic, thank Fahla. While their guests were taken aboard, she accompanied Captain Serrado and Dr. Wells to the shuttle operations office.
“You could have told me,” she said as they stood at the transparent wall overlooking the bay.
“You could have asked,” was the unsympathetic reply.
“I didn’t want to know he was dead.”
Captain Serrado chuckled. “She has such faith in your team, Doctor. There go the guidance lights, see them?”
The small shuttle was lifting off, and sure enough, there were flashing lights inside the exit tunnel, just as Rahel had remembered.
“I felt him,” she said, watching the shuttle rise until it was level with the tunnel entrance. “One of my warriors died in my arms during the Battle of Alsea, and that wasn’t half as bad as what I felt from him. I never imagined he could live.”
The shuttle flew past its parked brethren and into the tunnel, its rear navigation lights the last thing to pass from view.
“Rahel.”
She turned to face Dr. Wells, who was suddenly serious.
“I knew that sensing him was difficult for you, but I didn’t realize it was that bad. I wanted you to understand that you were part of my team, if only for those few days. Everyone who works on my staff has some part in what we do. It wasn’t just the surgeon who saved him. It was the nurses, the support staff, the fact that his surgical bay was prepped and ready. It was the clean linens and sterilized equipment. I may be the chief, but I can’t do any of it alone.” She glanced up at the exit tunnel, its guidance lights still flashing. “And I wanted you to have an emotional contact with him that might balance out what you felt before. If I overstepped, I apologize.”
Her first thought was to say it was fine, to assuage the edge of regret she sensed. But behind the words lay a sharp appraisal, and Captain Serrado had an expectant air, as if something important was happening here.
And a well-meaning lie would still be a lie.
“I wish you had told me before, so it wasn’t such a shock,” she said. “But I appreciate that you thought about balancing that emotional contact. It did help. A lot.”
Dr. Wells nodded, the faint tension in her emotions relaxing. “Thank you for being honest.”
Rahel relaxed as well, understanding that she had passed another test. Dr. Wells had insisted that she was not being tested, but she knew better now. She was a trainee again, starting over in a completely new world, and tests were part of training. Her initial mistake had been in thinking Lhyn was her only instructor, the only one for whom she did not have to be perfect. She had never expected the senior officers of this ship to have the time or inclination to help train a new officer so fundamentally uninformed and unprepared. But Dr. Wells had forcefully proven otherwise, Captain Serrado had taught a quiet lesson not half an hour ago, and even Commander Zeppy gave her a second chance instead of being justifiably angry about her use of his access code.
“I know this might be difficult to believe,” she said, “but I prefer honesty. I spent most of my career with Prime Warrior Shantu working as . . . well, what you would call a spy.” She glanced at Captain Serrado and saw the recognition there. “Honesty wasn’t often an option. And the last time I worked on a real team was the Battle of Alsea. This is new for me, but it feels right.”
“Do you remember what I said to you the first time we met?” Dr. Wells asked.
“Besides the hour-long medical lecture on my lingual implant surgery?”
Dr. Wells chuckled. “Yes, besides that. I said they chose you well. I stand by my assessment.”
“Now there’s a vote of confidence,” Captain Serrado said, turning toward the doors. “It took me much longer to manage that from her. Congratulations, First Guard.”
Rahel followed as they wound past the crew at their work stations, wondering if she could get the story behind that statement out of Lhyn.
“This has been one of those days when nothing happens the way I expect,” Captain Serrado added.
“Is that a good thing?” Dr. Wells asked.
“Oh, definitely.”
The doors opened at their approach, as no access code was needed to exit the office, and they walked into the empty corridor together.
Empty, that is, but for the stocky young man who turned from his study of the mosaic on the opposite wall. “Captain!”
“And that, unfortunately, is something I always expect,” Serrado finished in a low voice. “Yes?”
“Commander Zeppy sent me,” he said, starting across the corridor. With him came a malevolent excitement, dark red and sticky, and a suffocating wave of lethal intent.
Rahel shifted to a ready stance and pulled her stave grip from its holster as he took another step, smiling at them and giving every external appearance of a friendly crew member. The dissonance between what she saw and what she felt made her skin crawl.
He reached into the pouch hanging from his utility belt. “The commander wanted me to show you—”
The end of her stave smashed into his sternum, sending him flying. He collided with the wall and slumped to the floor, his hands fluttering uselessly at his chest as he gasped for air.
She’d had no room to swing, not with the captain and Dr. Wells bracketing her. But she had long ago learned the best move for taking out an opponent in a close space: by extending her stave straight into their body. It required the right positioning and a rock-solid hold on the grip, but when done correctly, it was devastating.
“Rahel!” Dr. Wells shouted, leaping forward. Rahel caught her with one arm around her waist, holding tight as she struggled. “Dammit, let me go! What the Hades are you doing?”
“Stand down, Doctor!” Captain Serrado barked.
Relieved at Serrado’s instant understanding, Rahel kept her grip on the doctor while pointing with the hand still holding her stave. “In his tool bag.”
Serrado crossed the corridor and knelt next to the man, keeping a wary eye on him as she checked the bag. Her hand came out holding a phaser, its green activation light glowing. It was charged and ready to fire.
Dr. Wells stopped all movement. “Oh, stars,” she breathed.
Serrado deactivated the phaser and slipped it into the back of her waistband, then unfastened the man’s belt and used it to flip him over. Ignoring the shriek he let out upon landing chest down, she stripped the belt and began checking it for weapons.
Dr. Wells flinched at the pain-filled scream, but made no attempt to aid him. “Phoenix, medical team to my location,” she murmured. “Gurney required. Prisoner transport.”
Rahel released her, assured that she would not rush over and put herself in danger. Her own internal com was silent, but she could imagine the com traffic currently blowing through the ears of the medical staff.
Captain Serrado had called in a security team at the same time and was now patting down the attacker’s pockets. Satisfied that he was no longer a threat, she scooped up the belt and crossed to Rahel.
“Who was the target, you or me?” she demanded.
Rahel had been watching his eyes as he approached. When he looked at the captain, she had sensed excitement and anticipation. But when he looked at her . . .
“Me,” she said.
Serrado’s expression shut down. Her terror made the air difficult to breathe, yet she appeared to be a warrior in complete control as she dropped the belt by the doors, strode over to the incapacitated man, and yanked him onto his back.
This time, he only managed a gurgle.
“Who sent you?” she snarled.
He rolled his eyes up at her, then closed them as another agonized squeak escaped.
“Answer me, damn you! Was it the Defenders of the Protectorate?”
“I don’t think he’s capable of speech,” Dr. Wells said.
“Then nod or shake your head. Did the DOP send you, yes or no?” Serrado
’s fury was mounting as he continued to ignore her, until it nearly equaled her fear.
“If he’s getting too annoying, I can stop that noise.” Rahel refused to acknowledge Dr. Wells’s shocked glare.
“Don’t tempt me. Phoenix, locate Lhyn Rivers. Respond to Rahel Sayana and me.”
The ship’s calm voice sounded inside Rahel’s head. “Dr. Lhyn Rivers is on Deck Zero, aft side of Bridge Hill.”
Captain Serrado stood up as a squad of security officers came around the corner at a dead run. While they swarmed the man, she pulled the phaser from her waistband, reactivated it, and held it out to Rahel. “It’s not much different from a molecular disruptor. Trigger’s here, don’t touch it unless you’re ready to shoot. Can you use it?”
Rahel retracted her stave and snapped it back into its holster. Accepting the phaser, she said, “As a last resort, yes. I’ll always prefer my stave.”
“Good. Get Lhyn and take her to my quarters. Don’t leave her side, don’t let anyone in, don’t trust anyone but me. Run.”
Her fear gave wings to Rahel’s feet. She pushed through the security officers and raced to the nearest lift. Its doors opened just as she reached it, disgorging four crew members in the green and silver of Fleet Medical. Impatiently, she waited for them to push out the gurney, then leaped inside and called out, “Deck Zero, aft entrance!”
The lights shifted blue and she drummed her fingers against her thigh, hating even these few seconds of forced inactivity. After what felt like an hour, the lights returned to normal and the doors slid open, revealing gardens whose beauty made no impression on her now.
She shot out as if propelled from a rail gun and raced down the curved paths, cursing the fact that not a single one of them led directly to the hill in the center of the park. It was built over the domed ceiling of the bridge, a duality of purpose that she had admired on her first tour through here. She had also admired the careful landscaping design, which obscured all sight lines and made the park seem larger and more private than it was.
She wasn’t appreciating any of that at the moment. When the path began to veer away from Bridge Hill, she cut across the landscaping, leaping over flower borders and crashing through shrubbery until she landed on another path at the base of the hill’s terraced plantings.
Lhyn was sitting on a bench halfway up, her legs crossed at the knees and her focus on the pad she held in one hand. Six people were in her immediate vicinity, all too far for Rahel to sense.
Six potential assassins.
“Lhyn!” she called.
Lhyn’s head came up. A smile ghosted across her face before she saw the phaser in Rahel’s hand. She scrambled to her feet, shoving the pad in her sleeve pocket.
By the time Rahel was in sensory range, Lhyn was already frightened—but not for herself.
“Is she all right?” were her first words when Rahel drew near enough.
“She’s fine.” Rahel stopped beside her and did another sweep of the six crew members. They were startled, wildly curious, and blessedly free of the malevolence she had felt from the attacker.
“Then what—”
“I’ll explain later. Right now, I need to get you to your quarters. Come with me.”
“Explain what? Just tell me!”
“Not now. My orders are to get you to your quarters immediately. We’ll talk there.” She set off at a fast trot, tugging Lhyn with her, and was relieved at the lack of resistance.
The journey across the park was fraught with potential danger. Don’t trust anyone but me, Captain Serrado had said. For the captain of a warship to give that order . . .
Everyone was a threat until Rahel could sense them. That was no easy thing with Lhyn so close, pouring out even stronger emotions than normal.
When they finally reached the lift, three troopers were walking into it. Rahel set a foot in the entrance, preventing the doors from closing. “Get out.”
“What?” asked a baffled trooper.
“Captain’s priority. We need this lift now.”
They looked behind her. “I don’t see the captain,” the largest of them said. “Haven’t heard anything over the com, either.”
“Get out now!” Rahel snarled. When they still hesitated, she reached in, grabbed the talkative one by his shirt, and hauled him out. He stumbled over his feet and nearly fell.
The other two blanched and hastened out. One muttered imprecations under his breath, but Rahel was already pushing Lhyn ahead of her. “Captain’s quarters.”
When the doors closed, she slumped against the wall and let out a breath.
“Now will you tell me what’s happening?”
“In your quarters.”
“Fucking stars, would you—”
“No. Lhyn, please. I can’t focus on talking and sensing at the same time.”
“Oh.” Lhyn clasped her hands together and stood looking at her uncertainly. Then she turned to face the doors.
They passed the next few seconds in silence, and when the doors opened again, Rahel put a warning hand on Lhyn’s arm before stepping into the corridor. Only when she was sure that the four people walking through it posed no danger did she beckon Lhyn out.
One of the captain’s privileges was living right across from a lift entrance, leaving three strides between Lhyn and safety. Rahel faced outward, phaser gripped low and ready, while Lhyn tapped the lock pad. As soon as the door slid open, she turned and stepped past her into the room, scanning it visually and sensing with all her might.
Clear so far.
She pulled Lhyn in and held up a hand, silently telling her to stay put. Then she sidled up to the only doorway in the quarters and focused.
No emotions hit her senses, and when she stepped inside, she breathed a sigh of relief. The bedroom wasn’t large enough for anyone to be outside her range. She checked the closet to be sure, then looked into the bathroom. Only then did she deactivate the phaser. Not having a holster for it, she loosened her belt and tucked in the phaser as she walked back to the living area. “It’s safe.”
“Good. Now will you tell me?”
She held up one finger. “Sayana to Captain Serrado. Lhyn is safe and we’re in your quarters.”
“Understood, thank you. Stay there until you hear from me. Tell Lhyn that I don’t have any answers yet, but she’ll know as soon as I do.” The call ended before Rahel could acknowledge the order.
“I don’t know much,” she said. “Someone tried to kill me outside shuttle operations, and then Captain Serrado sent me to protect you. She doesn’t know what’s happening either, but she’ll tell you as soon as she does.”
Lhyn frowned. “Someone tried to kill you? Then why—” Her eyes widened as dread slithered over Rahel’s senses. “Oh, stars, not the DOP. Not here.”
“Captain Serrado asked if that was who sent him. He wouldn’t answer.”
“Defenders of the Protectorate.” Lhyn spat the words as if they tasted foul. “I loathe that name. Defenders of torture and murder is more like it. They’re the ones most likely to want to kill you. And if you’re a target, so am I.”
“You don’t know that.”
“No, but it’s a safe assumption. The trial just ended two months ago. I’ve given seventeen interviews since then. They want to shut me up.” She dropped her head back. “Okay. Okay. I can do this. It’s not difficult. I’m trapped on a ship with one or more DOP operatives and Ekatya is scared enough to send you after me, but that’s . . . that’s . . .”
Her breathing accelerated, the primal fear so powerful that Rahel shivered with it.
“Lhyn, you’re safe.” She reached for Lhyn’s hands and willed confidence into her terrified friend. “You’re safe, you’re in your quarters, and I won’t let anyone touch you. Do you understand? They’ll have to get past me first. And I’m yanked right now.”
Lhyn’s breathing arrested. “You’re—what? Yanked?” The rising terror receded a hair. “What does that mean?”
So that was how on
e stopped a scholar from having a panic attack: distract her with a puzzle.
“I’ll tell you what it means after you breathe with me.” Rahel kept her grip on Lhyn’s hands and lifted them as she inhaled, then brought them down on the exhale.
Lhyn’s breaths were still too short, but after a few repetitions, she aligned her breathing with Rahel’s. The fear died back to a manageable level, and a small smile quirked her lips. “Did you do that on purpose? Put a little linguistic snack under my nose?”
“No, but I learned something from it.” Rahel relaxed; she wouldn’t have to call Dr. Wells after all.
“So did I. Thank you.”
“Always.”
Lhyn squeezed her hands and let go. “So?”
“It’s Whitesun slang. I’m yanked means I’m angry. I yanked you off means I made you angry.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t sound the same in Common.”
“I’m yanked,” Lhyn said in High Alsean. “You’re yanked, Ekatya’s yanked . . . who yanked you off? You’re right, it doesn’t sound the same at all. I can hear the etymological roots in High Alsean.”
Rahel had to smile. “There was never any question as to which caste you would join, was there?”
“Not for a second. I’m scholar to the bone.” Lhyn took a deep breath, her hand over her chest. “Shippers, I thought I was done with those. Who tried to kill you?”
“I don’t know him. He was in an operations uniform.”
“Perfect disguise,” she muttered. “How close did he get?”
“Physically? Close enough for me to break his sternum when I sensed his intent. He never got his weapon out.”
“Ouch. Suddenly I’m very happy to have you here with me.” Lhyn relaxed further, the fear receding to a point where Rahel could feel her consciously pushing it into the background. “Would you like something to drink while we wait? Ekatya has a shannel dispenser.”
“She does?”
“A gift from Andira.” Lhyn was crossing the room toward the kitchen. “She probably got tired of hearing Ekatya complain about how much she missed it on patrols.”
Rahel followed, taking in the details of the room and wondering if she would ever get used to Lhyn referring to Lancer Tal by her first name. “The Savior of Blacksun is a shannel addict?”
Resilience Page 9
