by Delia Roan
He smiled at her prim figure, and sprawled back in his chair. “Hey, Cynnie. I wanted to tell you this in person, but I’m not gonna lie. I’m glad I got your recording.” He drawled, knowing his casual pose and tone of voice would drive Cyndrae insane. “I can’t make your Honor Guard ceremony. I’m sorry I’ll have to miss it.”
He paused and dropped his eyes to the monitor. He studied an Ykine ripping apart the school room desks. Papers flew into the air, and the Ykine scraped star maps off the walls.
The pressure in his skull seemed to build. He turned his attention back to the comm recording, raised his good hand, and began to flick his fingers in their secret language. With the heavy encryption on the signal, he knew their conversation would be private, but he found himself returning to the comforts of his childhood. Of simpler times.
But his message was not simple, and he would not risk it falling into the wrong hands. Cyndrae would know what to do. She was smart and resourceful. Of all the creatures in this universe, he knew he could count on her when nobody else would come through for him.
Please help me, Cyn. Help me do what is right.
“I hope you got what I told you, Cyn,” he said out loud. “You’re the only one who will understand, and you’re the only one I can trust. I’m proud of you. I’m proud of what you’ve achieved. I’m glad you left Haven and found your own path.” He took a long, shuddering breath. “I’m sorry I won’t get a chance to meet Thedi. Give my little niece love from her uncle. I love you, Cyn.”
Syrek signed off, savoring the ensuing silence. Only the gentle hiss of air from the vents, his own breathing and the soft beeps of computers filled the room. He straightened in the commander’s chair, and his fingers traced the hidden seam along the edge of the seat. Under gentle pressure, the panel popped open.
One last task.
The vial inside glinted as it caught the dim light from the monitors. He held it up, turning it this way and that, watching the poison inside sway from side to side. He uncapped the lid, and sniffed. No scent. He brought the vial to his lips.
Just before the rim touched his lips, he froze.
What would happen to Mara?
As far as he could tell, Mara hadn’t been affected by the Avowal. Would her heart stop beating if his did?
He lowered the vial.
That’s not a risk he was willing to take. Being struck down in battle held far more honor than this. He capped the vial and slid it into his pocket.
Everyone dies, he thought, but I want my turn to be on my feet, fighting back.
For all that he had spent years away from his people, his Ennoi blood flowed for honor. He studied the monitors, calculating how much time he had. He might not be able to fight them all, but if he played his cards right, he could make a dent and take some of them with him.
Motion in one of the screens caught his eye. The area was empty. The Ykine had not reached there yet. So what moved? He leaned closer. His eyes widened when he realized what he saw.
“Hatcher,” he whispered.
The Head of Mechanics crept along a table, a wrench in one hand. She wore a heavy coat, and even through the monitor, Syrek saw her trembling. Without the warmth of the bowels of Haven, she was freezing. He recognized the corridor as one which was closer to the bridge. Hatcher made her way to the door. She peered out, and hurried along the wall, her shoulders hunched.
She was dead meat if the Ykine found her.
“What are you doing, Hatcher?”
Syrek couldn’t wait and watch until he figured her out. He had to move. He grabbed his comm unit and tucked it into his belt. As he strode out of the war room, he was met by the glorious sight of a hover quad. The machine sat against the wall, laden with a bag overflowing with weapons and explosives.
“Clear skies to you, too, Daves,” Syrek said, mounting the vehicle.
He raced down the corridor, planning his routes to reach Hatcher as soon as possible. He might not see Cyndrae or Mara again, but he would ensure that the Ykine invasion had no civilian casualties.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
MARA
Unlike her first trip in the caravel, the shutters were all flung wide open, letting in the vistas of space. Haven grew smaller and smaller in the rear port. Mara watched it slip away. Her fingers gripped the Promise Stone tightly enough for her knuckles to bleach.
She had been sent away again, like she had when she was a child. Sent away to boarding schools at the whim of her father’s newest wife, and then dragged back again when the next wife wanted to play Perfect Families. Then when she was finally old enough to make her own choices, her father had sent her away to Mountbatten University, so she could earn a degree and add a bunch of letters after her name.
What did that matter now?
Syrek didn’t know what he wanted, but he was clear on one thing: he didn’t want Mara. The Promise Stone seemed to mock her, reminding her that Syrek had promised her the human sleepers would be safe. But they weren’t. They were gone, taken by the Ykine and destined for who knew what fate.
I’m sorry, Dannica.
The weight of the past few weeks crushed her. The fight with her friends, the abduction, the scary days on the Sykorian ship. Then, when she woke up, she met Syrek and found herself tumbling straight into emotions for which she had no names, and she had willingly climbed into his bed. In Syrek’s arms, she could escape the drudgery of cleaning and gardening.
She could escape herself.
Right now, she was leaving the comfort of his arms to head into adventure. The whole universe waited for her. She could do anything, go anywhere. Find her way back to Earth and pick up where she left off. Heck, she could tell her father to go stuff his platitudes and find a job as a hotel maid. If she mattered to him, he would put aside his work and his expectations, and just enjoy being with her.
However, the only place she could imagine herself was by Syrek’s side. Love doesn’t last forever, she reminded herself. Everything ends.
She turned in her seat, putting Haven behind her, and focused on the group of refugees surrounding her. Mara’s thoughts moved from her old friends to her new ones. The crew sat in silence, save for the occasional soft sob or murmured comfort.
Gymari cleared her throat. “We are here to remember Clez. Who will honor her memory?”
The crew bowed their heads. A few shuffled their feet. Bene Laupe coughed, then flushed when the sound rang out. The silence stretched out. Mara couldn’t blame them. Clez had never worked on her popularity or even her likability. It’s easy to make enemies, but it’s hard to make friends.
Ancain stood. “She was a strong fighter. Worked hard.” Gymari couldn’t quite smother her snort of derision. Ancain fluttered his eyes. “When she wanted to.”
“Gave me a dried krill snack,” Oyoyoi hummed. “Won it in a Casters game. Did not wish to consume it. Very delicious.” The jellyfish alien’s voice faded away.
The room remained silent, and Gymari stood again. “We remember Clez. May her skies be clear. May her voice sing in the trees of her people.”
At Gymari’s nod, the crowd broke up. Ancain headed back to the cockpit to be with Luall. Mara slumped into her seat. Gymari waddled over and sank down beside her. “You had something to say, didn’t you? About Clez.”
“She sucked.”
“She was unpleasant, but you were the last to see her alive. How did she die?”
“She died well. A hero’s death,” Mara said. “I was too chicken to say it.”
“Tell me.”
Mara spoke before she could second guess herself. “Clez was brave. She fought for Syrek.” Mara stumbled over his name, but she kept talking. “She ran into danger to save the man she loved.”
Her eyes stung and her throat closed up. “She was brave enough to fight for what she wanted.”
But I’m not. I let Syrek dump me on the caravel.
She glanced over her shoulder at Haven, rapidly disap
pearing.
“I’m not brave, like she was. I couldn’t stay and fight.”
“Hmm, bravery isn’t the absence of fear. It’s the action in spite of fear.” She waved her plump hand at the crew. “These people fight not because we want to, but because it beats the alternative. You can go through life fighting, or you can go through life a slave. You wanna be a slave?”
“No!” Mara shook her head.
“Funny. You just admitted you’re a slave to your own fears.” Gymari stood with a grunt. “So, what are you going to do?”
Mara watched Gymari lumber away.
What am I going to do?
She clasped the Promise Stone and rose to her feet. In the cockpit, she found Ancain sitting beside Luall. While Luall had her attention fixed on the controls in front of her, Ancain stroked her back with gentle fingers.
He looked up at Mara’s approach. “I was asking Luall if she had any memories of Clez to share.”
“She taught me how to play the double-deep, cross-play move in Casters,” Luall replied. “She didn’t teach me that the move was illegal in most gambling houses until after I got arrested. Grab a seat, fresh meat.”
Mara sat and stared at the field of stars in front of her. “Where are we going?”
“New Trades,” Ancain replied. “We are all converging there.”
Mara nodded, as if the name meant something to her, but to be honest, with nowhere to go, and no goals, every place seemed the same at this point. Luall picked up on her sour mood. She leaned over and tapped Ancain’s arm. “Hey, tell her about our new business venture.”
“Business venture?” Mara tried to look interested.
“We are starting our own mercenary business.”
“Starstruck Mercs, at your service!” Luall grinned.
Ancain shook his head. “We need a serious name, love. Otherwise we will not be taken seriously.”
“Starstruck is a good name!”
“No, we need a title with gravitas, like The Legion Vanguard.”
“Oh, no. I’m not wearing a shirt with Legion Vanguard on the back. I’m not. You can’t make me, Anca.”
“Wait,” Mara said, interrupting their bickering. “What happened to Haven? Aren’t you guys going back?”
The lovebirds exchanged meaningful glances. Ancain placed his hand on Mara’s shoulder. “Syrek ordered a ship-wide evacuation of Haven. We suspect his order means a permanent evac.”
Hope surged in Mara’s heart. “Ship-wide? Syrek left, too?”
She got her answer from Ancain’s expression. “He chose to remain behind.”
Mara sank back into the chair. It was built at a larger scale, and her feet dangled over the edge of the chair. Syrek.
A beep from the controls had Luall cursing. “Those bastards.”
“What’s wrong?” Ancain asked.
“It’s the Sykorian ship. We’re catching up to it. I better veer off course a little so we can avoid them. Don’t want to draw the Ykine’s attention.”
“They headed to New Trades, my love?”
She shrugged. “I doubt it, but I hate having to recalculate flight paths. We’re low on fuel as it is.”
Mara leaned forward. “Where’s the Sykorian ship?”
Luall hummed. “Over there somewhere,” she said, waving at the space to their right.
Mara peered at the blackness. A glint caught her eye, and then a moment later, the light flashed again. Not a star. The Sykorian ship.
Dannica. Hannah. Ashley. They were so close. She pictured them in their cryo-beds. Dannica’s scraped up chin. Hannah’s petulant lower lip. Ashley’s sharp scowl. They counted on her, and she had let them down. She had promised them she would take care of them.
Promised them.
So many promises.
Her fingers played over the stone on her chest as her mind raced. “How expensive would it be to hire your mercenary crew?”
Luall laughed. “A lot! We’re going to build an exclusive clientele list. Only the best, hand-selected missions.”
“Now, now,” Ancain chided, “We will have to take what we can get for the first few years. It takes time and effort to build a business. We barely have any start-up capital for the Vanguard.”
“For the Starstruck!”
Mara bit her lip. “What if,” she said, slowly, “I could get you the money?”
“How?” Luall peered at her through her thick lashes. “No offense, but you have even less than we do.”
Could she do it? Mara’s heart pounded. Could she leave her friends behind?
“No.” She muttered. She stood and unclasped the necklace. She held the stone out, letting it dangle from her fingers. It swayed, sending sparkles shining across the dim interior of the cockpit. Ancain gaped, and Luall shot a quick look over her shoulder. When she spied the jewel, she froze.
“What’s that?”
“Your pay,” Mara replied. “I’ll give you this jewel, if you guys retrieve my friends on the Sykorian ship.”
“You’re crazy!” Yet, Luall’s ears pricked up, and her eyes flashed. “We can’t take the Sykorian ship back. It’s impossible.”
“Syrek gave you that jewel,” Ancain said, his voice gentle. “Do you understand what he offered you?”
The lump in Mara’s throat grew. “Yes,” she whispered. “He gave me a choice. And I’m taking it. I’m not giving up on my friends. I told them I would never leave them behind, and I’m not about to break my word.”
Ancain stared at her and inclined his head. “Please, allow me to confer with my business partner in private.”
“You’re not seriously considering this,” Luall said. “Tell me you’re not.”
Mara stepped outside. Before the door shut, Luall and Ancain shared heated words. Mara paced the corridor while Luall bellowed at Ancain. Bit by bit, the volume of Luall’s voice dropped, and when the door opened, Ancain gave Mara a reassuring smile. “We will be happy to take you on as a client.”
A weight lifted from Mara’s shoulders. “Thank you.”
“But we need to convince the rest of the Haven’s crew. We aren’t the only ones on this ship.”
“I’ll talk to them,” Mara said. Her head high, she marched back to the ship’s quarters. Gymari and the others lifted their heads as she clapped her hands to get their attention.
She studied them, trying to figure out the words that would get them to go along with this hare-brained scheme. I want to fight, she wanted to say. I want to fight for my friends. I promised them I wouldn’t leave them.
When she opened her mouth, her voice squeaked. “Please. Please help me, so I can help my friends. They’re on the Sykorian ship. I-I don’t know what will happen to them if we let them go.”
Nobody met her eye. Nobody spoke.
“Please,” Mara said.
“We owe you nothing.” The alien was a stranger to her, but there was no malice in the words. Just fact. A few other aliens nodded, including a few familiar faces from the gardening crew.
However, not everyone looked as certain.
“That is untrue.” Bene Laupe coughed and stood. “You toiled beside me to save the gardens. You were by my side when Cook needed us most. I am not a fighter. I am a gardener. However, what I have, is yours. I feel I owe you much, human.”
Gymari rose and stood beside her, with Oyoyoi drifting closer. “You’re janitorial. We stick together.”
“Thank you.” Her heart threatened to overflow, with love, with gratitude, and with fear.
She returned to the cockpit to let Luall and Ancain know. Ancain grinned. “I’ll get everyone set up.”
Luall rolled her eyes and began flicking switches. “I’ll run a scan. See how many Ykine we’re facing.”
Ancain leaned over and kissed her cheek before exiting the cockpit. Mara slid into his vacant seat and stared out of the front port. The glint of light in the darkness seemed to be brighter now.
/> “You really set on doing this?” Luall asked. Her hands danced over buttons, sending the control panel flashing.
“I couldn’t do anything else,” Mara replied. “I gave them my word. I told them I would look after them. I promised.”
Luall paused to study her face. “You stand by your word, huh? How very Ennoi of you.”
From the tone of her voice, Mara knew Luall praised her. But as she wrapped her fingers around the Promise Stone, feeling the weight of it pressing down on her chest, she remembered Syrek’s broken promise.
Love doesn’t last forever.
But while it lasts, it feels wonderful.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
SYREK
His luck didn’t hold. He made it half way to Hatcher’s last location when an Ykine scout found him. Syrek attacked it, kicking out with his booted foot as he zoomed past on the vehicle. The Ykine slammed into the wall, twitched and stilled. Syrek knew that with its hive mind, it had transmitted his location to every damn bug on Haven.
Better get a move on.
He pushed the quad forward. He didn’t bother shutting any doors behind him. The voracious Ykine didn’t seem to be deterred by barriers. A few minutes later, the lights flickered and dropped, leaving him in almost near darkness. His Ennoi eyes adjusted to the dimness.
They must’ve severed a power line.
Hatcher wasn’t where he had spotted her on screen. The corridor remained empty, with no sign of her ever having been there. Syrek closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. A hint of grease touched his nose. He opened his eyes and scanned the walls until he found the stain where Hatcher had leaned against the metal.
She was here, but which way did she go? He paused for a moment, trying to place himself in her shoes. “What are you after, Hatcher?” he murmured.
The only logical destination would be the bridge. Hatcher was sensible. She would not flee somewhere without a purpose. Hoisting his weapons off the hover quad and onto his shoulders, he set off down the corridor at a trot. The passageways here were narrower, designed for defense in case of breeches by the enemy.
The irony didn’t escape him when he reached the bridge’s access and found it barred.
