by Aileen Erin
I gave Eshrin a long stare. “Again?” There was no way. Not with all of the interviews and testing and background checks that we put everyone through.
“Possibly. That’s what I’ve been doing here—going through the list of everyone on board.” Eshrin sighed. “Or I’m possibly paranoid. Maybe they just happened to be in the area and sensed our jump and are curious about who we are. We are a big fleet, and that attracts a certain amount of attention. We’ve been using our stealth mode, but there are a few races out there with technology to see through it. And if they decided to share that tech…”
I didn’t like that. I didn’t like that at all.
“They’re gaining on us faster than I’d like,” Tyan said. “Three extra jumps should get us far enough away from them.”
I stifled the groan. “All right. How much time is added on to the trip?” If he said another day, I was going to scream.
“Only about an hour.”
Okay. That wasn’t so bad. “When do we jump?” As I said it, the lights dimmed. “Seriously?” I hadn’t even recovered from the last jump.
“For your safety,” Tyan said, and I couldn’t argue with it.
I liked being safe, and I really appreciated that he was looking out for me.
“Okay.”
Tyan gave a nod, and the feeling came, snagging my soul in the center of my being and jerking it through space.
I gripped my smoothie tight—because that’s all I had to hold on to—and when the jump was done, my stomach grumbled. I took a big sip. It suddenly felt like ash in my mouth, but that was just the exhaustion.
Eshrin and Tyan and everyone else in the room were glued to their stations, scanning the area around us to see if we were followed.
A few more of my guards entered the bridge, and I knew I wasn’t the only one that noticed the change of plans.
They made their way down to us and stood silently waiting for Eshrin to give them an update, but they wouldn’t interrupt while he was working.
“We’re good,” Tyan said.
A second later, there was a beep and a blip and two ships appeared.
That was bad. I didn’t need to be able to read the Aunare script on the screen to know that was very bad.
Damn it. We were going to need a lot more jumps.
Chapter Nineteen
AMIHANNA
The energy shifted quickly as the crew on the warship’s massive bridge went from standby to defensive mode, but I couldn’t stop staring at the ships approaching us.
Two of my guards went to other stations, and then three more came to stand beside Eshrin. I got up from my seat and let them sit down. I wasn’t doing any good there. I couldn’t even read the controls.
I moved down another row to sit with my smoothie.
The ships suddenly disappeared from the screen, and I twisted to see Eshrin. “Are they going stealth or did they jump away from us?”
“I can’t say for sure,” he said without looking up from his station. “If they went stealth, their technology is better than ours. I can’t detect them at all.”
“We have to assume that they jumped to another coordinate,” Tyan said, not looking up from his desk. “It was likely a coincidence, but I need one more jump to be sure we lost whoever that was.” He conferred with the copilots in Aunare and then the lights dimmed again, and this time, Tyan didn’t wait for me to okay it or even warn me.
A second later, my head was spinning, and I looked up at the vidscreen to see the ships right in front of us.
I set the smoothie on the table in front of me before I dropped it. This was not okay. That should’ve been impossible. How could they know where we’d jump to? Coincidences like that didn’t exist.
I stood. “Who are they?”
“I don’t know,” Tyan said, his eyes on the screen.
A message appeared in swirling gold Aunare script.
Tyan read the message and then grunted. “Whoever it is, they’re now asking to talk to you.”
Roan stumbled into the bridge a floor above. “What the hell is going on?”
“We’re being followed,” I shouted up at him.
“They’ve just sent another request to talk with you,” Tyan said. “This one is more insistent.”
“If they can follow us with one jump and then anticipate the next, then clearly we’re not going to outmaneuver them.” I stared at the screen. “I guess I’d better talk to whoever it is.”
“The ship’s com will translate,” Eshrin said from behind me. “We’ve got all known languages loaded.”
“I’m accepting their transmission now,” Tyan said.
A face appeared on the screen and I flinched. It was a creature with long, droopy jowls—yet the lips seemed to be sealed shut—a short, slimy snout, and no eyes. And weirdly something about it reminded me of a lizard, even if it didn’t look like any lizard I’d ever come across. But my brain needed a comparison to make this creature make sense, and that’s what it came up with.
A second, shorter creature with a heavily wrinkled face and two overly large eyes that swirled blue to gray to green in a hypnotizing rhythm came into view. It had inch-long greenish-brown hair that stuck straight up from its head and looked almost like thin, brittle twigs. I honestly wasn’t sure where to look, this creature or the other lizardish one—both were equally horrific—but my eyes kept going back to the swirling gaze of the shorter one.
“Amihanna,” Eshrin hissed next to me, and suddenly I remembered what Roan had said about my poker face.
He was right. I’d gotten terrible at hiding my thoughts, and that was especially bad right now because I’d finally figured out who it was, and I was already messing this up.
Great. Just great.
The lizardlike creature was Cheztkena the “Exalted” of the Bactah, whose home planet ruled the Naustlic system, and she was telepathic.
I had to stop thinking of her as a lizard. That was so incredibly disrespectful. And now I needed to come up with a way to properly apologize.
I decided it was better to be direct and honest about my mistake. “I have to apologize. I promise that any disrespect and hurt or anger you feel from my thoughts were unintentional. We haven’t met before and I’m new to anything non-Earther. I wasn’t expecting to meet you this way, and I’ve just realized how unprepared I am. So, I hope you forgive me.” I waited for a moment in case she wanted to yell at me for being so rude in my thoughts, but both heads bobbed.
I took a breath. Okay. Maybe I’d repaired the damage a little. “Thank you for your understanding. I believe you must be Cheztkena.” I was ninety-nine percent sure I was right.
The shorter creature next to her nodded. “That is correct, and I am her speaker.” The ship’s voice spoke in unaccented Earther English, but I was almost disappointed that I wasn’t going to hear what the language actually sounded like.
“My name is not important,” the speaker continued. “I speak only her words. She is insisting I explain this because of your newness. You are to address her only. I do not exist in the conversation after this moment.”
Okay. It was hard not to look at someone that was speaking to me, but I forced my gaze away from the speaker and focused only on Cheztkena.
“I have come to give you information,” the speaker said for Cheztkena.
The urge to glance back at the speaker hit me hard, but I didn’t let my eyes wander away from Cheztkena. I’d never spoken to someone like this—through another person that was communicating telepathically—but I’d do my best not to insult her again.
No more mistakes, Amihanna.
I kept my eyes on Cheztkena. “The universe is facing a very big threat. Any information would be incredibly helpful to me, to the Aunare, and hopefully, to the allies we are en route to meet.” Even if I was confused about why she was here, I couldn’t afford to turn down any advice from our allies.
Cheztkena usually liked to stay out of any business that didn’t directly involve her people, but maybe I was mi
xing up my facts. Maybe I should’ve paid better attention to Roan’s quiz—
“You are not wrong. I traditionally do not stand in the way of others’ fights, but on this, I felt compelled to tell you that you are walking into a trap. One that will lead to the destruction of the Aunare,” the speaker said. I kept wanting to look at him, since he was the one talking, but that was definitely the wrong move.
I forced myself to keep eye contact with Cheztkena—which was especially hard since she had no eyes—as the speaker continued talking.
“With the Naustlic system being on the outskirts of SpaceTech’s territory, I am aware that you are the only people standing between us and them. Especially given your background, helping you will help us. I will break our traditions and intervene this one time.”
I looked at Eshrin, and he started typing on his tablet. He would warn Lorne and my father.
“Thank you for the warning. I had a feeling that there would be a trap. Do you know any of the specifics?”
“I know a great deal, but I will only share with you that SpaceTech will be covertly present. Saying more would upset my people too much. I will not act. Engaging in any manner of warfare with our level of psychic sensitivities does great harm to our collective people. It is why we maintain neutrality. The warning will have to be sufficient. However, I will speak with the Yhona. I am angry that they have let SpaceTech get this far. I believe they have forgotten their role in the galaxy.”
Finally, someone was backing us. This was really, really good.
She wasn’t going to fight, but that was okay. Because if she would side with us and stay out of it, then others might take her lead. It was enough. It was more than enough.
“I am glad that you feel this action is sufficient. I saw the videos of you. I saw the suffering you went through, the arena footage, and what you’ve become. I wanted to see what you did when you encountered an unknown enemy.”
Well, at least she was upfront about testing me. “How did I do?”
“Instead of firing or fleeing, you decided to speak with me. To see who I was and what I wanted. That takes bravery and diplomacy. You showed it again when you apologized. Most do not apologize for their thoughts, even when they are hurtful. That shows your kindness. I do not want to see your bright light stifled before it fully shines.” The speaker tilted his head to Cheztkena, which caught my eye.
He was quiet for a moment before turning back to me.
I wasn’t sure what had passed between the two of them, but they were really making it hard for me to stay focused on Cheztkena. It almost felt like another test.
“I ask that when all of this is over, you will come visit me. I desire to understand how your mind makes decisions, and I think you might find me and mine interesting, too.”
“I already find you interesting.” I didn’t care what she looked like or how weird it was to not be able to speak directly to her. She’d just saved our lives. “It would be an honor to learn more about you and your people. This is my assistant, Roan.” I motioned to him. “If it’s all right, he’ll reach out to find a suitable time.”
“That would be very pleasing to me.”
The screen went blank.
Well, that was abrupt, but maybe Cheztkena didn’t believe in saying goodbye.
It took me a moment to process the exchange.
A trap.
It wasn’t a surprise. We knew that was extremely likely, but thinking it was going to happen and knowing were two totally different things.
Did we go back to Sel’Ani? That seemed like the safest option, but it would make us look like cowards at best. At worst, our allies could take it as an admission of guilt. That it was my fault that we were at war with SpaceTech.
But if we kept pushing forward, then what were we walking into? Maybe knowing for a fact that there was something that would happen could help us anticipate the trap better? I wasn’t sure how, but maybe it was possible, even if Cheztkena hadn’t given us a ton to go on.
Was there another option? Something middle of the road. Maybe if we changed the meeting place we could minimize the risk of falling into a trap.
There were too many options, and I couldn’t afford to make a bad decision. “I need to talk to Lorne. Now.”
“Working on it,” Roan said. “He’s saying to move to a conference room.” He turned and walked out of the bridge room without saying anything more.
“Let’s hold here. I’m not sure where we’re going anymore,” I told Captain Tyan, and then I followed Roan out of the bridge.
I knew what I wanted to do, but I couldn’t do it without checking in with Lorne.
Damn it. I wish I’d taken him up on his offer to travel with me. That had been another mistake, especially when I knew something like this was going to happen.
I knew it.
And I knew that if we didn’t act very carefully, we could all end up dead.
Chapter Twenty
AMIHANNA
Roan, Eshrin, and I waited in the conference room just off the hallway to the bridge. It held a desk and four chairs that faced a vidscreen. It took longer than I wanted to get Lorne and my father to answer our call. I paced back and forth behind the desk while I waited.
The tension I’d felt when we left the bridge had been a pulsing, thick, suffocating fog. As if the weight of everyone’s eyes on me with every step I took was physically making it harder for me to move, but I knew they only wanted answers. They wanted to know how best to prepare or what course to take.
I could make that call, but I didn’t want to do it without Lorne and my father okaying it.
My instinct was to keep going, but there was so much risk.
And yet, everyone that got on this ship knew it was a risk to be here. That risk was always there. It was part of their job in the Aunare Royal Guard, in the Aunare Armed Forces, in the Aunare Space Fleet, but a couple days ago, that risk was a distant possibility that could easily be ignored. It was that impalpable.
But now we knew that the risk was real and immediate, and even though the level of danger hadn’t changed at all, that imminent knowledge made it feel like it had.
I knew I couldn’t keep heading to Telnon like I was before, but I wasn’t sure that turning around was the best idea either. It seemed like no matter what I did, I’d be messing up.
I needed Lorne. I needed him now.
What was taking so long?
There were a few beeps.
“Call is coming in now,” Roan said. “And I’m using a filter, but it’s the last time I’m covering up for you.”
“Got it.” I’d find a way to warn Lorne about my health later. Right now, I didn’t care.
The vidscreen split into two—Lorne and my father. Finally.
“Tell us everything that she said,” my father said.
“One sec and I’ll replay it for you,” Roan said.
“Even better,” Lorne said.
I couldn’t watch the replay. I wanted to close my eyes and plug my ears or—better yet—leave the room entirely, but I stayed and watched them watch me.
When it was done, I realized Cheztkena hadn’t given me a lot to go on. Just the warning.
SpaceTech wasn’t hiding. They weren’t running like we’d thought. They would be on Telnon.
I wanted to give them time to think, but I wasn’t sure what kind of trap was out there and I didn’t want to find out. “So, what now?”
“I think we should still go.” Lorne was staring off to the side, as if thinking it through. “Actually, this is good.” His gaze finally cleared and he looked at me. “This is actually fantastic news.”
He had to be joking. She’d warned us for a reason, and ignoring that warning would definitely be a mistake. “Did you miss the part about the trap? How is that fantastic?”
“I think I should still go, but you two should head back to Sel’Ani,” my father said before Lorne could answer. “I matter the least of the three of us. If I’m killed, you two will cont
inue leading just as planned.”
He thought he didn’t matter? Was that my fault? I knew that I had my issues when it came to him, but I didn’t mean to make him feel like his life didn’t matter.
“I’m old, but that makes me experienced. I have more tricks than SpaceTech could ever anticipate.” He said something quickly to someone out of the view of the camera in Aunare, already giving his orders before I could even begin to think about the ramifications of his decision. “If Cheztkena is going to speak to the Yhona, I need to be there.”
“And what would Lorne and I do? Go back home? Wait?” That sounded awful. There was no way I was going to let him go alone.
“Yes,” my father said like he wasn’t completely insane. “I believe that would be best.”
I wanted to shake my head but wanted Lorne’s honest response more. “What do you think?” I hoped he wasn’t getting any crazy ideas. Apparently my father had lost his mind, because his plan wasn’t happening.
There was a hardness in his gaze when Lorne looked at me, and I wasn’t sure I liked it at all.
“I will continue forward, and you and your father should head home,” he said, as if that was ever going to happen.
My father started speaking up before I could, but Lorne just talked over him. “I’m the High King. I will be the one to talk to Cheztkena and the Yhona.”
They were both being idiots, and if they were both throwing stupid plans in the mix, what was one more? “If we’re going to argue about it, then I should be the one to go. I’m just a halfer who—”
My father and Lorne started talking at once.
“It’s the truth,” I yelled over them. “I’m not as important to the Aunare as their High King or the Hand of the King. I’m just the daughter to one and the shalshasa to the other. Let’s be honest. If something happened to Lorne, no one would want me as their queen.”
There were some pitying looks from around the room, but I didn’t mean it like that. “It’s okay. I’m okay with who I am. And I’m honestly proud of my heritage. But if we’re playing a game of martyr, then let’s be honest.” My father started to argue about me being queen, but I didn’t want to argue about that. “If something happened to Lorne, I wouldn’t want to be queen. Let’s not go there again. The two of you should head back to Sel’Ani, and I’ll go to this meeting. I’ll answer their questions and say what needs to be said. I’m well versed in covert missions, and no one will fight harder to find any leads on lucole and what SpaceTech is up to.”
