And that wasn’t all. Jon’s movements as he rolled his shoulders and stretched were as relaxed as if he’d just woken from a nap. Even his eye looked perfectly normal. What exactly was going on here?
Roe glanced at Mya. “Are you up to working?”
Mya nodded without hesitation, swinging her legs over the side of the platform. “Of course.”
“Good. We have a ship full of wounded Necri. Take fifteen minutes to gather whatever you need and meet me in the shuttle bay.”
“What about the kids?”
“They can stay with you until you’re ready to leave.” She pivoted and stalked toward Kire, banked anger glowing in her eyes.
Roe was furious with Mya. Why, he couldn’t imagine, but he didn’t envy the good doctor the storm that would eventually hit. Roe had a long fuse, but when it blew, the pyrotechnics were spectacular.
She halted in front of him. “Send a message to the Admiral. Let him know we’ll be bringing the enemy ship back to Gaia. Then contact Reanne and tell her we need accommodations set up in a remote location for three hundred refugees. An island near the equator would be ideal, but make sure it’s somewhere the Gaians don’t go.”
“What about Reynolds and Byrnes? They have most of the children at the landing site.”
“Right.” She placed her hands on her hips and stared at the floor. “It would be best if we could move the children to the new location before we arrive with the Necri.” She glanced up. “Can Byrnes arrange for one of the Corps transports to get them there without prompting a lot of questions about where the kids came from?”
“If anyone can schmooze his way through this without giving away any pertinent information, it’s Byrnes. He’ll make sure the kids are settled.”
Aurora glanced at Mya and the teens. “I also want you to talk to Reynolds and see if she can locate the bodies of the guards and the Necri in the forest. We don’t want one of the locals stumbling across them.”
“What should she do when she finds them?”
“Is Gonzalez’s containment field still down there?”
He nodded. “He deactivated it before we left, but it’s there.”
“Reynolds can use that. Have her move it to the forest and place it around the bodies. That should keep them relatively undisturbed for the time being.” Her next words seemed to take effort to get out. “Ask her to cover the Necri as best she can.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Thank you.” Her voice dropped so low he almost didn’t catch her next words. “Are we okay?”
The flash of concern that crossed her face made his heart ache. “We’re more than okay.”
She sighed, the soft exhale filled with relief. “Good.” She turned to Jon as he approached. “Feeling better?”
“Yes.”
The understatement almost made Kire laugh. He and Gonzalez had practically carried Jon into the med bay. Now only Jon’s tattered clothes indicated he’d been in a battle. At some point Kire would have a heart to heart with Roe and find out exactly what had produced the dramatic change.
“I could use your help on the other ship.” Roe said. “I don’t know what Cade’s team had to do to disable the engines, but I’m guessing you would be a great help in getting them back up and running.”
“Of course. I will change clothes and join you in the shuttle bay.”
Roe turned to Kire. “I’ll snag a new comband so you can contact me. You’ll be in charge of the Starhawke until we reach Gaia. I need to stay on the other ship to help with the Necri.”
“Understood.” He followed them out of the bay and into the lift. Jon and Roe exited on the crew decks while he continued to the bridge. He settled into the captain’s chair and sent off the report to the Admiral before contacting Reanne. He’d expected to leave a message, since it was two in the morning at the RC headquarters, but she responded immediately.
“Aurora?”
Her voice sounded a little shrill. Maybe he’d woken her up. “No, it’s Kire.”
“What’s wrong? Is Aurora okay?”
He gritted his teeth at her tone, which indicated she didn’t want to be speaking to him any more than he wanted to be talking to her.
“She’s fine. But she asked me to contact you. We need help setting up a refugee center on an isolated island on Gaia.”
Several beats passed before she responded. “What happened? What is this for?”
“I can’t provide details, but we need housing and provisions for a hundred children and two hundred adults.” As he spoke, he heard her muffled voice in the background. She was talking to someone else while he was talking to her. Typical Reanne behavior. Might as well push through the rest of it. “We also need transportation for the children. Roe asked you to coordinate with Byrnes to arrange that.”
When she replied to him, it was with cold efficiency. “Anything else?”
“No. Those were Roe’s two requests.”
“Then I’ll make sure she gets what she needs.”
Talking to Reanne always made his skin feel a little too tight. “Thank you. We’ll be in touch when we’re ready to bring in the adults.” He terminated the connection before she could respond.
50
Who am I?
Aurora slumped in the utilitarian deck chair, the hard edge biting into her neck as she gazed at the ceiling.
Two days had passed since her world had imploded, since the truth had sunk its teeth into her heart and torn a gaping hole that continued to bleed. In the blink of an eye, she’d lost her center. Reality no longer followed a logical path.
Through the anger, the frustration, the disbelief, and the anguish that had followed, she’d kept returning to the one conclusion she couldn’t ignore, no matter how much she wanted to—her entire existence was a lie perpetuated by the people she loved most dearly.
She and Mya had worked side by side almost non-stop since they’d returned to help the Necri, but they’d only spoken when absolutely necessary. It was the only way Aurora could keep doing what needed to be done. If she looked too closely at the paradigm shift she’d tumbled into, she’d lose her mind. So she’d erected a wall, focusing all her attention on the Necri.
The results of their joint efforts had been startling. Her energy field gave Mya’s healing abilities a booster effect, producing visible changes in the Necri’s bodies. Mya had been able to repair much of the damaged cellular structure that had caused the physical abnormalities. They’d also learned that what they’d mistaken as a genetic trait for dark skin and hair among the Necri was often just an accumulation of filth and grime.
The wing harnesses had been another shock. The weight of the mechanical devices strapped to their bodies was largely responsible for the bent form assumed by the Necri. In many instances the harnesses had been in place so long that the surrounding skin had grown over the straps, embedding the tough bands into their flesh. Mya had been reluctant to risk infection from the filth that coated the Necri by making incisions to remove the straps, so they’d left them in place for the time being. But they’d cut the heavy wing carriages from the harnesses, relieving the pressure.
Physically, the Necri were healing. Unfortunately, the energetic connection to the Necri during the process produced a very unpleasant side effect for Aurora. It opened the pathways to their intense feelings of horror, shock, sadness and fear, which mainlined into Aurora, threatening to swamp her. Staying on an even keel took an insane amount of effort.
That was one reason she’d retreated to this small cabin. Sensing their physical pain had been hard enough. Processing their emotional pain as they slowly returned to a state of awareness was like swimming against an undertow.
The teens had appointed themselves as caretakers for the Necri. They’d moved them to a large shuttle bay on the lower level of the ship and grouped them based on their family connections and physical and emotional needs, making it easier for Aurora and Mya to treat them. The arrangement also allowed the teens and Necr
i to stay together, something they craved after their long period of isolated confinement.
Mya had admitted to a limited understanding of the language the Necri and teens spoke. She’d been able to glean a few details regarding what had happened to them on the ship. The teens were understandably reluctant to talk about it, and never brought it up when the adults were present.
Their halting descriptions painted a picture where the guards had used them as blackmail to keep their parents in line. When the Necri refused to do the destructive work that caused them so much pain and physical crippling, the guards had tortured the kids in full sight of the Necri. All resistance had ceased.
The kids had served another purpose as well. The destruction of the plants caused cellular breakdown in the Necri’s bodies, weakening them. Each morning after the Necri had returned to the ship, the kids had been brought up to the cell bay to help mitigate the damage by sharing their energy fields. It was the only contact they had been allowed with their parents.
It was astounding that they weren’t all clinically insane. Yes, they were struggling, but their deep sense of community seemed to be providing them with an inner strength that guided them during their recovery.
The teens were coping by working relentlessly. Dark circles had become permanent fixtures under their eyes. The three catatonic Necri who had been Aurora’s personal bodyguards had turned out to be Raaveen and Sparw’s parents. Raaveen hadn’t asked about the fate of her mother, the Necri who had died on Gaia, but Aurora suspected the girl already knew the truth. The three adults remained unresponsive to their children, but any time Aurora or Mya stepped into the room, they would turn toward them, like flowers lifting their faces to the sun.
And then there was Maanee and Paaw. Aurora would never forget the look in their eyes as they’d introduced Mya and Aurora to their mother—hope and joy overlaid with a soft melancholy. Prior to the healing session, the creature they’d brought forward had been unidentifiable as a female. Her back had been buckled and misshapen, her head downcast and her body caked in dark muck. Only her blue eyes had indicated her connection to the two girls.
Maanee and Paaw’s mother had been the first they’d taken to one of the ship’s cabins for a shower, since her daughters could provide physical and emotional support during the potentially traumatic experience. Their mother had been terrified of leaving the bay and entering the enclosed space of the cabin, but Aurora had led the way and remained within arm’s reach as the girls had gently removed the scraps of clothing that had glued themselves to their mother’s body.
The girls had stepped into the shower enclosure with their mother and turned the spray so it hit the back wall rather than falling directly on her skin. The guards had routinely turned hoses on the Necri in their cells in an effort to cut down on the smell and accumulated waste. The trauma had made most of the Necri afraid of falling water.
The hunched woman who had stepped out nearly half an hour later had born little resemblance to the creature who had entered. Her skin had changed from charcoal gray to a healthier pinkish hue. The girls had managed to wash her hair as well, and while it was sparse and coarse, indicating prolonged periods of malnutrition, the water had revealed the true color, which was a darker version of Maanee and Paaw’s blonde waves.
The woman’s head had been down, her gaze at the level of Aurora’s knees. She’d trembled as she’d clutched the front of the robe she wore, as if she feared the garment would be taken at any moment, but eventually she’d released her death grip on the fabric. She’d lifted her hands, her movements choppy, but Aurora had immediately recognized the gesture Paaw had made in the med bay, which was followed by the name she had come to dread.
“Sahzade.”
And so it had begun. Williams and Celia had worked on removing the wing carriages and treating open wounds while Aurora and Mya had focused on cellular healing and physical sanitation. Variations on the scene with Maanee and Paaw’s mother had played out as they’d taken the Necri who were emotionally and physically stable enough to handle the shower process to the cabins, always with a couple of the teens there to assist. And after each transformation, the same gesture had been made, the same hateful name spoken as she and Mya were treated like royalty, adding fuel to the fire of her anger.
She’d sent Kelly to the Starhawke to collect clothing donations from the crew so that the Necri would have something to wear as they shed their filthy rags. Consequently, during her last visit to Necri Hall, as she’d come to think of the large shuttle bay where the Necri lived, she’d seen a growing assortment of males and females in outfits that looked very familiar.
What she hadn’t counted on was that the Necri would be able to identify which garments had come from her and Mya. Those who had received her clothes went out of their way to show deference whenever Aurora approached. It made her want to scream.
That was another reason she’d escaped to this odd corner of the ship. Gratitude was one thing. Having people fall at her feet was something else entirely.
And finally, there was the information Celia had just shared with her. After they’d finished their work with the Necri, Celia and Williams had returned to the cell bay to retrieve the bodies of the two dead guards. They’d removed the armor and cloth mesh that had hidden the guards’ faces and bodies and revealed the unmistakable scaly skin and heavy brow ridges of Etah Setarips.
The faction had been rumored as extinct following a particularly violent encounter with an opposing faction twenty-five years ago. Apparently some Etah had survived. And thrived. But how they’d managed to obtain the resources to build a ship, abduct the Necri, and launch a guerrilla attack on Gaia remained a mystery. And why?
Aurora sensed Mya’s approach long before the door behind her slid open. She cranked her shoulders up to her ears and shifted her gaze from the ceiling to the opposite wall. So much for her moment of privacy.
Mya entered, but Aurora didn’t turn around.
“Sahzade?”
She ground her molars together. That damn name was going to be the death of her.
“Aurora?”
Not as bad. But at this point anything from Mya’s mouth was a spark to tinder. Her temper flared. If Mya refused to leave her in peace then she’d better be prepared for a confrontation. The question that had been haunting Aurora for two days shot out of her mouth like a laser. “Who am I?”
“What?”
She shoved her feet against the floor, spinning the chair to face the door. She gripped the metal arms so tightly her fingers cramped. Her face felt like she’d stuck it in a furnace. “Who. Am. I?”
Mya had the grace to look uncomfortable. Good. Aurora wasn’t about to make this easy. She was sick of the lies and deceit. She wanted answers. Now.
“You are Aurora Hawke, daughter of Libra Hawke.”
She stared. “And?”
Mya took a tentative step forward. “And…you are like a sister to me.”
A harsh laugh scraped out of her throat. “Oh really? Well you have a funny way of showing it.” Hysteria bubbled up, the result of physical exhaustion and emotional overload, but she couldn’t stop now. “Hell, for all I know, I am your sister. In fact, I could be the frickin’ queen of England and I…wouldn’t…know!” The last three words came out on a roar. Betrayal by the one person she’d counted on as her rock had wounded her in ways that might never heal.
The corners of Mya’s lips pinched as she held Aurora’s gaze, anguish visible in the lines of her face. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Aurora, I’m so sorry.”
Mya was in pain, too. But Aurora couldn’t take any satisfaction in that. She also couldn’t bear the sight of her friend’s tortured expression. She spun the chair back around and resumed her study of the wall.
“Please. Let me explain.”
There was only one explanation she wanted at the moment. “What does it mean?”
Mya sounded confused. “What does what mean?”
“Sahzade. What does it
mean?”
Mya didn’t respond right away. Instead, she pulled up a chair and sat facing Aurora. “The closest literal translation would be guardian or protector. Your family has always been the guardians of the race, which has given you a place of distinction.” She paused, and her next words came out slowly. “But the cultural meaning of Sahzade for our people is different. It’s much closer to Your Highness.”
Aurora squeezed her eyes shut, as if that would block out the words. Nope. They continued to ring in her head. And she’d thought having secret abilities was a challenge. Ha.
Abruptly the fight drained out of her, leaving her empty and numb. “So I’m royalty. Is that what you’re saying?”
“Yes.”
The Necri had certainly been treating her that way. And Mya, too. “What about you? That name they call you—Nedale. What does that mean?”
“It means healer.”
“And?”
To her credit, she didn’t look away. “And something along the lines of Your Grace.”
“So you’re royalty, too.” Mya didn’t deny it. “Are we related?”
Mya shook her head. “No, not by blood. But our families are connected. You are the daughter of the eldest female of the Guardian family, and I’m the daughter of the eldest female of the Healer family. Together, those two families form the basis of power for our race. Our unique abilities, which are passed genetically from mother to daughter, have provided for the safety and nurturing of our people for millennia.”
“Our people,” Aurora echoed. “I don’t even know what that means.” She resumed her study of the wall. “According to my mother, our homeworld was destroyed and our people decimated when she was a child.”
“I know.” Sadness weighted down those two words. “This is not my story to tell, Sahz…Aurora,” she amended when Aurora glared. “And I don’t know much more than you do.”
Yeah. Right.
“You may not believe me, but it’s true. My parents didn’t agree with your mother’s choice to keep your heritage from you, but they respected her decision. Since they knew I would hate keeping things from you, they decided it would be easier if I didn’t know the details, either. But one thing I can tell you. Your mother’s choices were designed to protect you.”
The Dark of Light (Starhawke Rising Book 1) Page 23
