Fusion (Crimson Romance)

by Candace Sams

  • • •

  Three hours later, Soldar sat in a passageway of the USS Valiant. The rendezvous with the vessel, and the transfer of the wounded had been completed without incident.

  Cordis sat beside him but remained unusually silent.

  Myranda was in the sick bay, helping with the wounded from other battles. He’d been banned from that area when Lyra was taken into surgery. Pestering doctors about her was wearing thin, and they’d threatened to sedate him if he didn’t “shut up.”

  He’d expected General Shafter to make an appearance, accept a report, and debrief them, but it seemed the only supervisor outranking two Craetorian field officers was caught up in some business on the bridge.

  Crewmembers scurried about and kept to their duties efficiently. All he could do was wait. The bright, clean passageway was a blessed relief after the darkness of the Venus. Still, the lights and banter of the crew in that area wore on his nerves.

  Aigean’s uninjured employees remained on the Venus. Aigean was among them. The one-time haven for Condorian elite followed a course paralleling that of the Valiant. He could look out any viewport and see the Venus as she flew. But he couldn’t recall officers sorting any particulars out. Events since leaving Reisen Four flew by at light speed. Everything except the delivery of news from sick bay.

  His head still ached but he ignored the pounding. He impatiently ran his hands through his hair and got up to pace, but Cordis caught his arm and urged him to sit again.

  “There’s nothing you can do, Soldar. The fact that she’s survived this long proves she’ll make it. I have no doubt about that outcome,” he consoled. “You saw Myranda’s expression when they took her away. She seemed quite pleased.”

  “I’d feel better hearing something from a physician.” He clenched one hand into a fist and covered it with the other. “I realize humans don’t understand the meaning of the armband Lyra’s wearing or my having put it there — ”

  “I don’t see how they could ignore those facts since you reminded them a dozen times.”

  “Cordis … why are we sitting here waiting for battle news? If the general can’t debrief us, another officer should. And what if D’uhr’s ship pursues us using trace elements from Venus’ teckion engines? The Valiant is a good vessel, but she can’t have enough of a crew left to man all stations. Every craft in the combined Allied Forces is shorthanded. There are just not enough of us, and we have so many wounded aboard.” He got up to pace again.

  “Older brother, all this speculation is pointless. Myranda said she would inform us of any news. So sit down and gather your wits. Or I’ll take the doctors up on their threat to shoot you so full of meds that you won’t walk for months.”

  Soldar grimaced, but finally sat down again. He hung his head between his knees and stared at the floor. “I just want to hear her voice again. I don’t care what she says. She can hate me until the end of time but I can’t stand not knowing.”

  Cordis put his arm around Soldar’s shoulder. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

  “She thought I was a traitor. There was no time to explain.”

  “No. She used your assault on D’uhr and his son to rally the Venus’ crew. In the end, she saw where your loyalties lie, I’m sure of it.”

  “What do you mean by ‘in the end’? You were convinced she’d recover,” Soldar said as he sat up and stared at Cordis in alarm.

  Cordis slowly shook his head. “That’s not what I … Soldar, take a deep breath and remember she’s safe. So are you. I think it’s been so long since you saw the inside of an allied craft that you can’t acclimate. With you, there’s always the next battle. Clear your mind and think of what you’ll say to Lyra when she awakens.”

  “I’m sorry. I just want to know … something.”

  They remained silent for the next hour. Soldar didn’t move again.

  Myranda finally rounded the corner of the passageway followed by groups of crewmembers who were babbling excitedly and hurrying to greet their comrades. Apparently, there was some momentous news spreading among the crew. Soldar saw the animation in their faces and knew the update had to be good.

  “Lyra’s okay. She’s gonna make it!” Myranda smilingly announced when she was within several yards of where Soldar sat. “Once they have her in a stasis chamber, you can go see her. But she’ll be unconscious for some time.”

  He stood and hugged the med-tech with so much gusto that Cordis had to break the contact. Soldar felt like the weight of a planet was lifted from his chest.

  As long as Lyra was all right, he could explain everything, or at least what he remembered. Surely no one would begrudge him that disclosure since she’d been involved from the start.

  But his moment of joy was quickly diverted. Hubbub among the crew grew until it was almost a roar.

  “What’s going on?” Cordis asked.

  “It’s the Condorians,” Myranda announced as she glanced at both men. “They’re sending an open broadcast, asking to cease hostilities.”

  Soldar shook his head in denial. “It’s a trick. They’re attempting to locate the coordinates of allied ships.”

  “I don’t think so,” Myranda denied. “I was told that General Shafter has authenticated the transmission. The ship’s captain is in conference with all the officers. There’s a rumor going around that the Condorians are so overcome by disease that they can’t fight. Someone in sick bay said they’re dying by the thousands and want medical assistance.”

  “Shafter can’t fall for that! He mustn’t,” Soldar declared. “They’ll get their medicine and come at us with everything they’ve got.”

  Myranda put one hand his forearm as she stood between him and Cordis. Crewmembers continued to run by them in increasing numbers. The three of them had to move into an area that served as a lounge. It was the only way to avoid the onslaught of humanity suddenly gathering around them and running in all directions.

  “Listen!” Myranda continued once they were able to talk again. “I hear the general has ordered all Condorian vessels to gather in one sector. I don’t think he’s going to give them anything until they disarm and turn over their battle craft. No medical staff will go onto an armed Condorian ship. It’s just not gonna happen. No matter what anybody says!”

  “The Condorians won’t agree to disarm,” Cordis told her as he gazed at Soldar. “Would they?”

  Soldar considered the news with gravity. “If they did then … then … ”

  “Then it’s the end,” Myranda whispered as they stared at each other in disbelief.

  “I need to get to Lyra,” Soldar told them as he finally understood why Shafter or no other officers had approached two high-ranking Craetorians in their midst. This news must have been processed by the bridge crew for the past few hours. The crew wouldn’t have been privy to such information had someone not confirmed it.

  He turned away and loped toward the sick bay. And that was where his brother and Myranda found him several hours later.

  The crew was still grouping and gossiping among themselves. Laughter and joking broke out. As for him, he’d only believe the information when his own supervisors confirmed it. His heart wouldn’t accept hope until different sources verified the same thing.

  Soldar gazed through the viewport of the silver, tank-shaped stasis chamber where Lyra lay. Her color was much better. Only seeing her in person made him actually believe she’d make it.

  Myranda and Cordis pressed coffee and food into his hands. He ate automatically because he must.

  “I contacted the Venus,” Cordis whispered in deference to other injured soldiers who rested in nearby spaces. “Surprisingly, Aigean didn’t seem shocked about the news.”

  “She runs pretty deep,” Myranda confirmed. “Who knows what she’s really thinking?”

  Cordis sipped hot
coffee and smiled as he looked through the viewport at Lyra again. “She’ll be fine. Why don’t we get some rest?”

  Soldar protectively wrapped his arms around the chamber. “I can’t leave. I just want to stay here.”

  Footsteps approached their quiet gathering spot and all three of them turned to see a young, male lieutenant standing in the sick bay hatch. He gazed around as if he was searching for someone. When his gaze fell on their small group, he walked toward them and saluted.

  Soldar was about to remind him there was no need to acknowledge his rank or Cordis’ since they were out of uniform, but circumstances prevented him from making the correction. Besides, what did it matter if the news the lieutenant might impart was good?

  “Sir, we’ve received a message from the Craetorian corsair, Faerlyte. She’ll be docking with the Valiant in under an hour, Earth time. She’ll take on Craetorian wounded. I was told you’d be here visiting them.”

  For a moment, Soldar bowed his head in shame. He’d been more interested in his mate than any wounded Craetorians rescued from other battles. Cordis gripped his shoulder in support, but there was no excuse for his having ignored his injured people. What was worse, Cordis had been worried on his behalf and hadn’t left his side.

  Their mutual lack of concern was a break of compassionate custom if not an outright breach of duty. But the dereliction was his fault and not his brother’s. He stood taller and vowed to pull his head together. He needed to act like the officer he was.

  The young lieutenant continued. “The captain and General Shafter did know you were aboard, Colonel Nar. They send their sincere regrets at not meeting you and informing you of all the news in person. But as you can imagine, they’ve been quite busy on the bridge. They convey their wishes for a good journey home. You’ll be pleased to know we’ve located new wormholes the enemy knew nothing about. The coordinates will be loaded into the Faerlyte’s navigation console,” the young man explained. “With any luck, you can be home in a matter of weeks. The captain of the Faerlyte has generously offered to escort the Venus safely to Craetoria. So … until such time as you depart, please accept the ship’s full hospitality. Please let us know if there’s anything you require, and have a safe journey.”

  Before Soldar could respond, the lieutenant saluted again, smiled then hurried away.

  Soldar stared at Cordis.

  They were being dismissed and sent home. It was that simple. General Shafter had important work to do if the Condorians really were surrendering. And he and Cordis would be needed at the nearest Craetorian outpost. In this instance, that station would be the Faerlyte.

  He should be filled with joy. But some hollow hole opened within his chest. If anyone had imparted this news a few weeks ago, he’d have been ecstatic. He hadn’t seen Craetoria in years and part of his heart felt the pull of his beautiful garden world. But he gazed down through the viewport again and the surreal quality of the situation was more bizarre than victorious. They hadn’t won anything. Some illness had defeated the Condorians, not any combined allied efforts.

  So where was the ecstatic elation? Where was the sense of justice having been served? Their worlds would be safe. Shouldn’t that be cause for unending thankfulness?

  “I can’t leave her,” he whispered. “I can’t just walk away.”

  “I … I guess … we’ll all have to go our separate ways now,” Myranda murmured as tears filled her eyes. “That doesn’t mean we can’t stay in contact. Does it?”

  “I don’t know what to say,” Cordis sadly added. “It’s not real. It can’t be. We’ve shed blood together. And now we go back to … to what? Are we supposed to just pick up where we left off?”

  Soldar registered Cordis’ hand grasping Myranda’s. They made contact across the space of the stasis chamber. He slowly shook his head as his heart ached. It felt like someone had just punched him in the gut. His brother and the med-tech who’d saved his life felt it too.

  Was this how wars ended? Were they simply supposed to put their weapons down and go home? Had all the fighting really ended? Just like that?

  The three of them stood by Lyra’s chamber and stared at each other in silence. In the distance, songs and revelry of the crew seemed to punctuate their sudden, overwhelming melancholy.

  Soldar knew the truth. It would do no good to argue for Lyra’s transfer to the Faerlyte. She was not a Craetorian citizen by Earth standards. Their mated union wasn’t official and she couldn’t speak for herself. He had no legal claim on her.

  But none of that would have mattered if he thought she’d understand. He’d have torn this ship apart and tossed aside any impediment — if he thought she still loved him.

  But Fornax had uttered the Condorian side of the truth and that ended everything. Even he’d believed the stories Aigean had embedded in his brain. These were the same ones meant to make him utterly convincing and incapable of yielding when or if he was ever tortured. Lives had depended on his mind-altered status.

  His shape shifting attack on D’uhr and Fornax notwithstanding, Lyra had gazed at him one last time. Pity and revulsion had been written all over her face, and she’d turned her back on him. He suspected that what he’d changed into wasn’t nearly as vile as his purported, traitorous acts. In that instant before he’d attacked Kardis D’uhr, Lyra let him go.

  For these reasons — and not by any generals’ orders — he knew he’d leave her behind. He’d never see her again. She’d have no way of knowing what had really happened. She wouldn’t want to find him. In her heart, he was someone undeserving of life. Hadn’t she said she wanted to kill him? And wouldn’t she see him as a Condorian sympathizer to be abhorred?

  At least she was safe. That would have to be enough. He began to shake as tears clouded his vision.

  Myranda stretched out her arms and drew him and Cordis into her embrace. As one who’d endured life aboard the Venus, she understood.

  He accepted her compassionate offer.

  Chapter 13

  Two years later

  Craetoria

  New Earth Embassy

  Lyra stood on the balcony of her tenth floor apartment. Everything Myranda said about Craetoria was absolutely true.

  As far as the eye could see, flowers, landscaped hills and gardens, tall trees, paths, and wondrous color filled the senses. Strangely colored birds, large butterflies, and sounds of other woodland creatures could be seen or heard at almost any time of the day or night. The air was balmy in the spring and summer, much colder in the winter — or so she’d been told.

  Right now, this part of the planet enjoyed the benefits of early springtime. The evenings could be chilly, but the days were bright and beautiful.

  She understood why Soldar hadn’t wanted the Condorians anywhere near his home. On other planets bearing equally productive landscapes and agricultural bounty, the enemy had destroyed everything, leaving nothing but charred remnants.

  Of all the features in the landscape, she found the Ky’Nar castle on the farthest hill most lovely and enchanting. At some point in the distant past, Craetorians had constructed such edifices to match the grandeur of all the beauty. Some ancient ancestor had brought the similar architecture to Earth where many of those features still stood today. But what remained on her planet were mostly relics, museum pieces for tourist fodder. They were lovely to be sure, but they weren’t what she now viewed.

  The Ky’Nar family estate glistened the way a ray of light shone through leaded crystal. Its gray walls contained bits of mica or quartz that made them appear almost jewel-like when the sun rose or set. She’d been up at both times just to witness the effect.

  Even from this distance, the building’s size was awesomely impressive. The upward reaching turrets and towers boasted rooms for over four hundred. That, too, was only gossip but she could well believe the information.

 
By comparison, the new Earth Embassy compound was many times smaller. But the architecture, such like a miniature castle itself, fit with Craetorian standards. And after all, Earth’s diplomats — which now included her — were here only by their hosts’ good will. The lovely gardens, high walls, and elegantly decorated rooms reflected the high regard with which Craetoria considered its closest allies. And Lyra’s quarters were grander than most. The lovely jewel tones of the walls, paintings, curtains, and other fittings were exactly what anyone might have expected if they were to stay in a mighty fortress. But unlike a structure built for defense, the embassy was constructed for ambassadorial comfort. She had a small kitchen if she wished to cook her own meals, but there was a grand dining facility on those nights she might like to eat out with friends or meet other ambassadorial staff for cocktails.

  Her life was splendid now. As the new head of security for the entire compound, she was in a choice position. But she’d got the job only through hard work. The Condorians hadn’t simply laid down arms at the end of the war. They’d been systematically forced into doing so with a series of blockades, bribes of medical help, and the ultimate deconstruction of their entire fleet. It had taken many, many months to get where they now were. She was aware that no victory had actually been achieved as much as surrender due to medical necessity.

  What was now referred to as Condorian Fever was still a threat to that entire race though science and doctors had it somewhat under control. It had decimated the enemy’s ranks profoundly but pockets of them had kept fighting on. She and everyone else knew that, but for the strange malady, the war would still endure, with horrific results for the allies. But armistice stood. The war was officially over. And it’d been a microbe saving most of the galaxy. The desperate stands in space had bought time, they had saved lives but at a terrible cost to many families. Hers included.

  Her part in the extended fighting and her participation in events on Reisen Four helped put her where she was. And she was grateful for everything — this post, her expanded salary, and official lifestyle, her position of power and new friendships.