Danger in the Stars: (The Sectors SF Romance Series)

by Veronica Scott

  His hand, warm and strong, enveloped hers. His arms locked around her as he whispered, “Do what you have to do, Priestess.”

  She drew on the blue fires, launching them at the Mawreg like psychic lightning bolts. Wherever the vivid flame struck, the Mawreg’s colors blackened and shriveled. She was buffeted by a massive blow as the enemy struck back with all its remaining power, but the blue formed a shield around her, even as Conor was physically protecting her, and the alien’s assault failed.

  There was an explosion in her psychic vision, madness of color gone insane. She screamed and knew Conor caught her, but then the sights and sounds around her faded away.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “You’ll make sure she comes to no harm? Ensure they understand she’s a complete innocent in all of this? A victim?”

  Fuzzily, Miriell heard Conor asking desperate questions of someone. She tried to blink her eyes open, but for a moment, her entire body was paralyzed, weakened by the massive energy drain it’d taken to kill the Mawreg.

  “I give you my word.” The voice was deep and melodic, musical.

  She felt Conor kiss her forehead and move away. Fear for him gave her the power to open her eyes and reach for him, catching his hand. “Wait, don’t leave me.”

  He knelt, taking her into his arms. “I have to go, sweetheart, but only for a time, I swear. Lady Glennit will take care of you.”

  You’ve done exceedingly well, Priestess-Sister.

  The melodic voice was in her head now, speaking to her in her own language. Confused, Miriell put a hand to her forehead and tried to figure out what had happened and where she was. Outside the Mawreg ship obviously, surrounded by soldiers with drawn blasters. Next to her on the ground sat the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen, clad in purple robes, with shimmering black hair and eyes of deep lavender blue. This personage was so stunning, so resonant with power that, for a moment, Miriell thought she was having a vision.

  Two men in uniform stood behind Conor, with two others close by, blasters aimed at him. Now the closest soldier reached for him. “Time’s up, buddy. You’re under arrest.”

  No, this was wrong. Don’t they understand he’s a police officer? One of them? As he was pulled away, unresisting, and cuffed, she struggled to her feet, the unknown female assisting her. “Stop, you’re making a mistake—”

  “Be at peace,” Lady Glennit said. “The soldiers do what they must. He’ll come to no harm.” Her voice spoke privately inside Miriell’s mind, again in the soft cadences of Tulavarra. It’s part of their process, these cautious humans. The authorities must protect his identity for now, until we reach the SCIA facility. I insisted he be allowed to remain at your side until you awoke, but now the period of grace has ended.

  Angry at the way her man was being treated, Miriell gathered what shreds of power remained to her, intending to stop this farce.

  Suddenly, she was swathed in an invisible blanket of power, warm, soothing, but trapping her and her abilities in its folds. To her senses, the blanket was a rich purple trimmed in the brilliant gold of those who rule and threaded through with the blue fire of true warriors. Struggle as she might, she couldn’t do anything but stand next to the woman who effortlessly wove the net around her and watch as Conor was hustled away, thrust into a groundcar and vanished from view as the vehicle sped away.

  It was almost too much on top of all that she’d endured. Miriell swayed, tempted to fall to her knees and weep, but she refused to give in to her grief in front of all these strangers. In front of this powerful Lady Glennit. She straightened her spine, calling on Thuun for strength. Conor would expect her to be strong for him. “The Mawreg is dead?”

  Glennit nodded. “You defeated the abomination.” We will not explain the mechanism to the humans, Priestess-Sister. Better for you if the Sectors remain unaware of the scope of your powers, as you must live among their people.

  “With Conor’s help. We are warrior and priestess, a team.” She refused to claim all the credit. “He doesn’t deserve to be made a prisoner, to be ill-treated.”

  “He will come to no harm.”

  “My lady, we should be going.” A soldier approached them, saluting Glennit.

  “If you intend on putting Conor with the other Combine prisoners, you need to know he was partially exposed as a traitor right before the attack,” Miriell said, searching her mind for any slightest way to help him. “Don’t let the Amarotu have access to him.”

  “He’ll be kept separate, but your concern for him does you credit.” Glennit touched her arm, and the terrifying sensation of being in a net vanished. “I have things to be seen to here on the planet, but the soldiers will escort you to my ship in orbit. I’ll join you soon, and we can talk. You will be our honored guest, Priestess-Sister. This is Captain Kennear. He’s been assigned to act as your liaison when I’m not available. He’ll see to your needs and comfort.”

  “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

  Miriell assessed the soldier. He was young, handsome in a rough-hewn style, with pale green eyes that, in the way of hardened warriors, had seen too much. She wished she could toss a tendril of her power at him, read his inner self, but even though she no longer felt cocooned by Glennit’s power, neither could she exercise her own. Clearly, some prohibitive effect lingered on the psychic plane. “You may call me Miriell, if you wish.”

  “Yes, ma’am. If you’d come this way, please, we’ll get you to the shuttle and up to the ship in no time.”

  “We’ll meet again soon, you have my word,” Lady Glennit said. “I’ll do my best to answer your myriad questions.”

  Miriell stopped walking, forcing the soldier to pause as well. “I have only one. When can I see Conor?”

  “The time will come.”

  With that vague answer, the lady turned away and walked with several soldiers toward the Mawreg ship.

  Captain Kennear touched her elbow. “Ma’am? Word of advice, if I may? She’s a Mellurean, and her kind don’t like to be pestered with questions. She’s one of the people in charge of this entire operation, but she’s genuinely operating in your best interests, word of an officer. The fact she’s taken a personal interest in you has been duly noted by everyone above my pay grade, trust me.” He leaned closer, a friendly smile on his face. “You’ve got the golden token.”

  “Golden token?”

  “Pretty much anything you want. No one’s going to mess with someone the Mellureans protect.”

  Miriell sighed. “This is all quite confusing, Captain. Up until a few hours ago, I was a prisoner of the Combine, and I have to tell you, I still feel like a captive. Better conditions perhaps, but nothing approaching freedom. Don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful to be safe from the Amarotu, but—”

  “Take it in stages,” he said. “Events are driving you right now, not the other way around.”

  Feeling as if she was whining, she made one last protest. “I expected to be able to do what I wanted when I was finally free, to go where I chose, to be with Conor.”

  “I understand, ma’am, but right now none of what you’re asking for is possible.” His refusal was delivered in a calm tone, but brooked no argument or appeal. “My team and I’ll do our best to make your stay with us comfortable while this Amarotu operation is wrapped up. Until the Mellureans release you from protective custody. Now if we could proceed to the shuttle as ordered, I’d be most appreciative. I’m thinking you need some medical attention as well, from those cuts and bruises.”

  Acquiescing because she had no choice, no matter how pleasant he was being, she allowed him to lead her to the waiting craft. She paused at the foot of the ramp, taking a last look at the desolate landscape, which matched her bleak mood. So much has changed for me in a few short days, yet remained the same. Thuun, keep me from falling into despair. And watch over Conor.

  Her hosts gave her a roomy cabin, including access to vids, games, entertainment and fresh clothing, inquired as to her food preferences and attended to her
trifling wounds. Captain Kennear hovered constantly the first few days, apparently planning to check in on her every morning to share a coffee over breakfast. At her request, he assigned a young lieutenant to tutor her in written Basic and provided trideos on the culture and history of the Sectors. It was her understanding the ship was a military vessel, on loan to the SCIA for this massive takedown operation.

  All the personnel she encountered were kind and solicitous—and completely blank-faced when she asked any question about Conor, or when she herself would be free.

  Lady Glennit kept her promise, meeting with Miriell a few days later in her own cabin, which was three times bigger and much more luxurious. Stewards brought coffee and small pastries, and Miriell was invited to sit on a comfortable couch next to the Mellurean. Once the servants and the soldiers escorting her left the room, Glennit said, “How are you faring? Is everything to your liking?”

  Stubbornness woven through the fibers of her being, like steel reinforcements for her resolve, she said, “I need to see Conor, even for a few moments. Please.”

  “This is not possible, Priestess-Sister. He’s no longer imprisoned, but he must testify about the things he witnessed and did during the five years he was undercover. The humans want no contact between the two of you during this time. Those in charge don’t want any questions of collusion or influence. You and their agent became too close for the SCIA’s comfort.”

  “I never used my abilities against him.” Her protest was instant and angry.

  Glennit patted her hand. “I believe you. It’s part of the humans’ justice process, and we of Mellure have a treaty with them stating we won’t interfere. If it goes on too long, I’ll step in. But the SCIA also needs your testimony about your time as a prisoner of the Amarotu and, again, want no suggestion that you’ve coordinated your statements with him.”

  “But they don’t care if I coordinate with you.” Miriell picked up her coffee, which she’d developed a taste for, and sipped.

  “Tell them anything you please.” Glennit wasn’t discomfited. “Except how you killed the Mawreg. Right now, the agents believe you and Conor used a combination of his blaster and your psychic abilities, perhaps augmented by myself during the final assault. Conor did destroy several Mawreg offensive robots during the battle, as well as a few Chimmer inside the Mawreg ship.”

  Miriell hadn’t known that. Probably while I was dueling with the Mawreg itself. He saved my life yet again.

  Glennit selected a frosted cupcake and transferred it to her plate. “The Amarotu survivors are trying to describe how you killed Opherra, but the humans aren’t finding it believable. My advice to you again is to keep the full breadth of your powers to yourself. We’re getting you Sectors citizenship and making you an official Mellurean affiliate, which will protect you going forward.”

  “The golden token.”

  “What?”

  “Captain Kennear said to be in favor with your people was a golden token.”

  Glennit laughed. “I suppose to the humans it is. We rarely extend our protection and favor in any form outside our own ranks, but it’s not unheard of.”

  “Could you have killed the Mawreg?”

  Dusting crumbs delicately from her fingers, the lady nodded. “Oh yes. Part of why I was with the assault forces was to accomplish that specific task, should we encounter a Mawreg, but you saved me the trouble. The authorities will be meeting with you the day after tomorrow to get the details of your captivity.”

  Troubled, Miriell set her cup on the elegant, gilt-edged saucer. “During my imprisonment, I was forced to commit acts of which I’m not proud. I did my best to thwart what the Combine wanted, but to save my own people, who were held hostage, I used my powers to perform some dark deeds. I even killed several times at their command. I was told the victims were Combine members, but I have no way to verify that. Conor said this would be understood by the SCIA.”

  Glennit nodded. “You’ve been given blanket immunity, backed by my command to treat you as if you were a Mellurean citizen. You can tell the SCIA the entire tale, and there will be no repercussions. This I swear. Your knowledge will be used to build the legal case and to trace down other threads of this evil infestation. Nothing more.” She looked kindly at Miriell. “Tell them you’re an empath with the ability to focus a narrow beam on a person, but only under the right conditions.”

  “Thank you for the advice.”

  “Captain Kennear will be with you at all times during the questioning, and I’ve instructed him to notify me if he has any concerns about the direction of the inquiries. Under no circumstances is the SCIA allowed to talk to you without him present. Is there anything else I can do to make your stay with us more pleasant?” Glennit raised a hand and quirked one eyebrow. “Leaving out your desire to see the man you know as Conor.” Her demeanor was kind, but she had the air of someone who was busy and considered the meeting to be complete.

  “There is one thing.” Miriell swallowed hard. She hated to reveal her secrets to anyone, but she was already feeling the effects of being in a spaceship, totally detached from any living planet. “I require access to a garden of some sort. Conor told me the larger spaceships have such a thing. Plants growing in water? Might I be allowed to spend time there each day?”

  Glennit surveyed her. “Indeed. This ship is one of the largest in the Sectors’ fleet, and it not only has a hydroponic garden for supplying fresh vegetables and spices and other such consumables to the kitchens, there is an elegant public garden in the recreational area. Would an hour a day suffice?”

  “That would be wonderful.” Relief flooded over her.

  “Captain Kennear will arrange it, beginning tomorrow.”

  Miriell tried to focus on the deserted garden, which was off-limits to everyone else on the ship while she sat there, but today the plant life wasn’t comforting. Loneliness for Conor and uncertainty about their future ate at her nerves. She felt badly about inconveniencing all the other sentients, but the decision hadn’t been up to her. The good captain sat with his personal AI, working away on a bench close by. She’d been here eight times now and found she could indeed draw enough sustenance from the lush trees and flowers to keep herself going. She had to sip, rather than fully satisfy her hunger for the psychic energy, but it would do. Depending on how long she was kept here, she might have to ask for a daily visit to the other kind of garden as well.

  Experimentally, she hummed a favorite song but felt no rise in power and no joy in her heart.

  “Beautiful music-making, ma’am,” the captain said, staring at her, wide-eyed.

  “Sorry to disturb you.”

  “No, I enjoyed the song. Lyrical and haunting.” He shut off his AI and came to sit on the bench next to her.

  She was afraid Captain Kennear might become a problem. He gave every sign of growing rather taken with her, not in an offensive way, but he’d lingered over morning coffee in the last few days, as if he enjoyed her company a bit too much. He’d been a fierce protector for her during the SCIA questioning, insisting on breaks and once or twice calling Lady Glennit to shut off some line of inquiry he felt was going astray. He was considerate of her wishes and her comfort. She liked him—he had a good sense of humor, he was patient and he explained the intricacies of life in the Sectors with a blunt directness she found refreshing. But her heart was Conor’s. I don’t want to lead this man on. If only Lady Glennit hadn’t leashed her powers, Miriell would have easily and unobtrusively turned his growing interest in her aside, with Kennear never realizing why his incipient attraction faded.

  She was opening her mouth to begin the difficult conversation she felt they had to have when she realized Lady Glennit stood on the path at the entrance to this secluded spot, having arrived with no warning. Miriell jumped to her feet. “Is there some word of Conor? Can I see him today?”

  Shaking her head regretfully, but with a smile, Glennit said, “He continues to provide his testimony. He was there in the heart of the Comb
ine for five years, Priestess-Sister. He has much to tell, and then the investigators will ask the questions in different ways, explore new avenues of investigation.”

  Miriell sat on the bench again with a thump. “Yes, I experienced their tenacity and repetitious interrogations myself.” She mimicked the head agent’s nasal tone. “Tell us again, Miss Miriell, how you did this or that, never mind you told us three times already. Now can you describe the whole sequence in reverse order?”

  Captain Kennear turned a laugh into a not very convincing cough.

  “I think the interrogators hope to catch me contradicting myself.”

  “Perhaps. The truth always serves in the end.” Glennit inspected the soldier as if she was going to take him to task for some deficiency. “You may withdraw, Captain, while I chat with Miriell.”

  He saluted and strode off down the path without another word. The Mellurean watched him for a moment, brows drawn together in a slight frown.

  Miriell was staring at Glennit, who was practically glowing, serene, majestic—almost like a vision again. Her purple skirts brushed the path, and Miriell had the uneasy thought that she was floating. “Are you real? Or are you a goddess? A sister of Thuun perhaps?”

  Undismayed by the question, Glennit said, “I might be. One has been many things over the eons, although I don’t remember Thuun. Why do you ask?”

  Miriell gestured vaguely. “You’re too perfect, too glorious.”

  Laughing, Glennit stared down at herself, waved a hand and changed in some indefinable way that Miriell would never be able to explain. “Better?” As if she’d been reading Miriell’s mind, she stuck one sandaled foot out from beneath her skirt, showing off her polished toenails and the scuffed heel of the shoe. “More realistic?” The Mellurean sat beside Miriell. “The humans don’t notice, but I should have expected that you’d catch the nuances. Shall we say a Mellurean has many aspects, depending on the situation and the needs of the moment? But I don’t function as a goddess to these people. Just a well-respected, somewhat-feared member of an overwhelmingly powerful elder race.”