“Star is a member of the crew.”
His eyes narrowed. “Meaning what? Was she a member of the Fleet? What’s her role?”
“She has an extensive knowledge of the ship’s systems and can manage just about every task the ship requires to function.”
He frowned. “Why didn’t the Admiral mention her?”
She stared him down. “Because he doesn’t know she’s onboard. And I would ask you to keep her presence a secret.”
“A secret? Is she underage or something? Or a former felon?”
She almost laughed. Star was certainly not a minor or a criminal. “No. She’s just very protective of her privacy. Our crew respects that. I’m asking you to do the same. If she can be of assistance, she’ll contact you.”
He wanted to push for more information—she could see it in his eyes. But he wasn’t going to get anything more from her.
He let out a frustrated sigh. “Okay.”
He stood. So did she. But he paused on his way to the door. “Promise me something.”
What now?
“Stay close to Clarek tonight.”
What? She must have heard him incorrectly. But the look in his eyes said otherwise.
He must be really worried about her. At least it was an easy promise to make. “I will.”
After the door closed behind him, she drew in a deep breath, holding it to the count of ten before releasing it. What a fascinating and bizarre turn of events.
The door chimed a moment later. Was he back with more questions?
“Come in.”
But instead of Cade, Jonarel stepped inside. Star appeared a moment later. An aura of tension followed them, but that might have been a result of passing Cade on the way. “What’s up?”
“Tehar and I have been going over the information I gathered from the enemy ship. We have confirmed something I suspected when I saw it.” His expression indicated whatever he had to tell her was leaving a bad taste in his mouth.
“And?” Aurora prompted.
“The hull construction is Kraed.”
Aurora’s mind blanked. Kraed? “You mean we’re dealing with a Kraed ship?”
Jonarel’s eyes flashed fire. “Definitely not. The design is nothing that a Kraed would create. But the shielding on the hull is the same compound used for all Kraed ships.”
She worked hard to connect the dots. “But the Kraed have never shared that technology with anyone, have they?”
“No.” His voice rumbled with anger. “That would go against our beliefs. The raw materials come from our home planet. Many are difficult to locate elsewhere. They are a part of our world, and we would never allow others to take them.”
“But surely there are ways someone might have obtained the technology. What happens to ships that are severely damaged beyond repair?”
“They are brought back to Drakar so the Nirunoc can move into a new form before the materials are reused for another vessel.”
“What if a ship can’t be brought back?”
Star’s voice filled the room. “That would mean abandoning the Nirunoc who inhabits it.”
Which a Kraed would never do. “Have any ships ever been lost where no one survived, including the Nirunoc?”
Star’s honey-colored eyes filled with sorrow. “One. Long ago, during our early interactions with the Setarips. We had not yet realized their true nature, and they took the ship and crew by surprise. During the battle the ship was caught in the gravitational pull of a nearby planet and crashed. All onboard were killed.”
“Did the Kraed recover the ship?”
Jonarel’s expression matched Star’s, pain etched in his features even though the event must have occurred before his great-grandparents were born. “The planet generated lethal heat and radiation fields. Any salvage attempt would have resulted in the deaths of those sent to the surface.”
Great. Now they had one more mystery to solve.
27
Aurora sat cross-legged on the rock outcropping that served as the team’s command post, her gaze to the west where the enemy ship lay hidden among the canyons and trees. The sun had long since slipped past the horizon, the lingering hues of red, orange and pink replaced with the black of night.
The running lights of the shuttle ten meters behind her illuminated Mya to her right, her short dark hair ruffling in the breeze. Inside the shuttle, Jonarel worked with Star in preparation for hacking into the Necri signals.
The remaining team members had left hours ago to take their posts. Kire, Byrnes and Gonzalez had headed into the forest area to the northwest, making their way toward a decimated field beyond the tree line. That part of the landscape had been subjected to a Necri attack prior to her crew’s arrival at Gaia. It would be perfect for the containment fences they’d use to hold and incapacitate the guards and Necri.
Cade, Williams, Drew, Reynolds and Celia had made their way toward the ship itself. Their task was the most dangerous—safely accessing the ship through the open bay doors. Of course, that was only the first hurdle. They also had to face the small matter of taking over the bridge and disabling the ship’s engines while incapacitating the crew.
That left Kelly and Star to intercept the enemy ship if it powered up and attempted to leave Gaia.
Aurora glanced at Mya. “I hope this works.”
Mya looked at her in surprise. “What are you worried about?”
Apprehension tapped along her nerve endings, making her restless. “I don’t know.” She pictured the eight people out in the darkness, traveling into uncharted territory. “I just don’t want to be wrong.”
Mya’s brows drew down. “You’re really hard on yourself, you know that?” She shook her head. “Sahzade, I know you hate not having all the answers. I get it.” She paused, her gaze assessing. “Are you worried because you’re not on the front lines this time?”
Was that it? She’d never considered the possibility, but it rang true. In all her Fleet missions, she’d either been following someone else’s orders, or she’d led the team, facing the same dangers as those under her command. In this situation, she’d given the orders but couldn’t actively protect those around her. No wonder she was jittery.
She rubbed her forehead with the tips of her fingers, trying to ease the tension that had gathered there. “I’m not used to risking other people’s lives without risking my own, too.”
“I know. But you can’t be responsible for everyone and everything all the time.”
Leave it to Mya to tell it to her straight.
“I am curious about something, though.”
Aurora glanced at her.
“Why haven’t you told Kire your secret?”
Aurora blinked. The question seemed like a non-sequitur. “Why do you ask?”
“Because there’ve been a few instances during this mission when that information would have been valuable to him. But you haven’t said a word. I’m just curious why you’re holding back.”
Why indeed? Mya was much better at handling the secret of her non-human ancestry without allowing it to define her life. “Kire’s always been the tough one.” Aurora traced the patterns in the rock with her fingertip, drawing strength from the solid feel of the stone. “Even though I’ve never said anything to him, I know over the years he’s picked up on clues that there’s something…different about me.”
“But he’s never pushed for explanations?”
“No.” That wasn’t his style.
“You trust him, don’t you?”
“Of course I do. It’s not that.” This went deeper than trust. She sat up and brushed the dirt from her palms. “Honestly, I think I’ve always feared it would change our relationship. Jonarel was different. He found out the day we met, and he understood immediately. And Cade…” She let the sentence hang. No need to rehash that situation. Mya had been at ground zero. “But Kire is human, born and raised. And he’s always assumed I am, too.”
Understanding lit Mya’s eyes. “You’re afr
aid you’ll lose the closeness you share.”
“I know it may sound crazy, especially since his best friend is a Kraed. But if I lost his friendship, or even if it changed.” She closed her eyes and swallowed around the lump in her throat. “I’m not sure I could handle having him look at me like I’m…other.” Cade had taught her all too well how that felt.
“Are you so certain he would?”
“No. In fact he probably wouldn’t.” After all, Kire cared about her, loved her like a sister. He’d proven that time and again. “But what if I’m wrong? It’s not something I can undo.” And she needed him, now more than ever.
Mya’s lips pursed. “True, but—”
Her reply was cut short as Cade’s voice came over the comm line. “The bay door is opening.”
28
Celia surveyed the forest from her perch in the branches of one of the trees surrounding the enemy transport. Ellis, Williams and Drew were to her left, partially concealed by the massive trunk, their black sensor suits blending with the deep shadows of the foliage. Reynolds was propped against the branch to her right, her gaze fixed on the hull of the ship that rose thirty meters overhead, dwarfing the enormous trees in the steep ravine.
The trees provided the perfect spot to monitor the bay door ten meters below, where the Necri would exit and their team would enter. She and Reynolds were in charge of making the initial foray into the ship. Only after they’d secured the interior would the rest of the team join them. If all went well, they would be on their way to the bridge before the Necri and guards reached the base of the mountain.
She spotted movement a split second before Ellis’s voice came over the comm channel. “The bay door is opening.”
She lifted the small launching device that lay against her palm and sighted down the scope, then fired. A thin cable shot across the space between the tree and the ship, snapping tight as the anchor made contact with the ship’s hull and locked on. She attached the device to the stabilizer wrapped around the tree’s trunk, then grabbed the handgrips. Sliding down the cable, she landed silently against the ship’s hull five meters above the doorway. Reynolds followed behind.
The Necri and guards exited the bay, the metal of their wings flashing in the moonlight as they flew through the trees.
Celia fed a second cable through the anchor and secured it to the harness around her waist. She crept to the edge of the bay, waiting for the command from Ellis.
“All clear.”
She swung inside and dropped to the floor. The interior was shadowed, the only light coming from pale strips that ran along the floor, outlining the open space just inside the bay door. No sign of movement. That was a good start.
However, she was unprepared for the overwhelming stench of bodily excretions and other noxious odors that hit her olfactory system like a sledgehammer. Her gag reflex kicked into high gear, threatening to empty the contents of her stomach. The ammonia content of the air was so high her eyes began to burn. She slapped her left hand over her nose and mouth while she pulled out her weapon and panned it around the space
Reynolds’s posture indicated she was having the same rough adjustment to their surroundings. The pithy swear word she muttered confirmed it, especially considering what they were smelling.
To the left and right of the entrance, doors swung wide on a row of vacant cells that formed a low wall five meters high. The cells themselves were tiny, no more than two meters square. Other than a long drain panel that ran along the back of each cell, they were empty—no bedding, seating or sanitization facilities. That explained the smell.
If this was where the Necri were kept in between attacks, they lived enclosed in spaces that were too small for them to even lie down and stretch out. From what she could see, the entire room was filled with cells just like these in rows that ran to the back walls on both sides.
She’d experienced this type of solitary confinement in the prison camps of her youth. She understood intimately the mental and physical anguish such conditions caused. At one time, such a sight would have triggered a violent emotional response. But she’d learned to deal with those memories so they couldn’t hurt her anymore. However, the presence of the cells shed a very different light on the role the Necri played in the attacks.
Reynolds relayed the all clear to the rest of the team, her voice muffled by the hand she held over her face. “The bay is secure.”
Within moments Williams, Drew and Ellis joined them. Drew was the first to speak, her voice incredulous. “They keep the Necri locked up in here?”
Anger carved grooves on Ellis’s face as he approached one of the cells. “No creature should live like this.” He shook his head in disgust and tapped his earpiece. “We’ve entered the bay. No sign of any guards, but the room is full of small cells. It looks like this is where the Necri are kept in between attacks.”
“They’re prisoners?” Aurora’s voice indicated her shock.
“Apparently. And not well cared for, either. We’re proceeding inside.”
“Acknowledged,” Aurora replied. “We’ll keep the Necri and guards busy out here. Good luck.”
Celia and the rest of the team followed Ellis as he moved toward the security panel beside the narrow door on the far wall.
Ellis glanced at Drew. “We need that open.”
“Give me a minute.” She placed a small device onto the panel and keyed in a command. Lights flickered, then the panel flashed green and the lock disengaged, the door sliding open to reveal a short corridor.
Ellis bypassed the open lift in favor of a metal stairway that disappeared into an opening in the floor. Dropping to the ground, he eased over the edge, weapon at the ready. Apparently satisfied, he indicated for Celia to lead the team down.
The smell on the lower level was considerably improved. Unfortunately, the corridor they were in led in one direction down the center of the ship, with no openings visible on either side. No cover or escape routes. It was minimally lit, much like the Necri holding area, but there would be no hiding in the shadows if they were discovered. They’d be targets in a shooting gallery. Not that they had any choice.
Keeping close to the walls, they crept forward. Celia raised her hand to halt their progress when the solid walls gave way to windowed partitions and doorways with open grills near the top. She strained to pick up any sounds coming from inside that might provide a clue to what they would encounter. Eventually she heard something, though it was so out of place that she didn’t immediately identify it. It sounded like…crying.
Crouching below the line of the glass, she motioned for Ellis, Drew and Williams to stay put and provide cover. Reynolds moved to the opposite wall and followed her down the corridor until they were directly in front of the door where the sound was emanating. Celia pressed her body against the cool metal, sliding up until she could peer through the glass into the space beyond…and forgot to breathe.
29
Kire glanced at the chronometer on his comband. Based on Ellis’s last communication, the Necri would be in visual range any moment.
No sooner had the thought crossed his mind then the dark cloud emerged to the west, cresting the ridge and passing beyond the shelter of the woods.
Jon’s voice came over the comm. “Overriding the signals now. Stand by to activate the perimeter fence and inhalant.”
“Acknowledged.”
Gonzalez stood to Kire’s right, near the fence generators. He’d set up two separate containment zones, one for the guards and a much larger one for the Necri.
Byrnes was next to him, the signal pad for the inhalant emitters in his hand.
“On their way,” Jon said.
In the distance, the swarm of dark shapes abruptly changed course, sweeping in a wide arc and heading for the edge of the forest where Kire’s team waited.
As they drew closer, he could see the guards fighting with their wing harnesses. Some slammed them with their fists while others pulled out their weapons and took aim at the dev
ices.
“Jon, we need those guards grounded ASAP.”
Immediately the contingent of guards broke away from the Necri and moved in a rapid dive toward the ground. With a few meters to spare, the dark shapes abruptly swung upward in a tight three-hundred-sixty-degree loop. When the guards finally touched down they staggered, disoriented by the unexpected somersault.
That was Gonzalez’s cue. The perimeter fence activated, trapping the guards inside. Byrnes triggered the inhalant and the figures began to fall like dominoes.
“The guards are down,” Kire said.
“Bringing in the Necri,” Jon replied.
Unlike the guards, the Necri seemed to accept the change in plan without any concern. Within moments they were assembled in a close pack on the ground inside the perimeter fence. The inhalant took longer to affect them, however, and the results were less obvious. Most of them simply dropped to their knees in a slumped position. Considering how close they were to the ground in their natural posture, it wasn’t easy to tell the difference.
“Necri are out as well.”
“Acknowledged,” Jon said. “No changes from the enemy ship. They may be unaware that the attack force is not moving as planned, or they have not figured out how to respond yet.”
Either way, that was good news for the assault team.
30
Children.
In all Cade’s theories about what they might encounter on this ship, he’d never imagined he’d be staring at a group of small children.
The room had the styling of a military barracks, with sleeping platforms in a row along the far wall and sanitization stations under the window, which served as a two-way mirror. Cade stood in front of it and surveyed the space without drawing any attention from the occupants.
Every bed held one or two huddled figures, illuminated by a faint bluish light cast by circular disks embedded in the floor. The crying child was a small boy who looked to be no more than six, being rocked in the arms of an older girl of eleven or twelve.
The Dark of Light (Starhawke Rising Book 1) Page 17
