“But never trust a royal,” Arjan ground out.
“But they’re not headed for the docks,” Telu finished, sounding on the verge of tears. “They’re close, but moving around the other side of the planet, out of the potential battle zone. There’s no way they can get to us in time before Solara’s destroyers do. They’re not even trying to.”
Solara sighed. “They knew it was a lost cause.”
Eton was frozen, staring as though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Basra was too, but like he could believe it.
Nev looked gutted. “Devrak…”
“I’m sorry, Nevarian,” he murmured. At least he met Nev’s eyes straight on when he said it. “I had to.”
“My loyal servant,” Solara said, but she was only looking at Nev, gauging his reaction. The world felt like it was collapsing under my feet. It was all over.
That was when, on the feed, Devrak stepped silently up behind her. Maybe, even after setting us up as sitting targets, he still planned to kill Solara. It was the least he could do.
But before he could make a move, Solara turned and held out her hand, as if for Devrak to kiss her ring, pay homage to her.
Devrak took her hand with his right and bent over it. His left hand tucked behind his back. This was it. He could still strike her down when she least expected it. When he looked up at her, I recognized the gleam of victory in his eyes, and the sudden flash of fear in Solara’s.
But then Devrak suddenly went rigid, straightening with a gasp. His eyes bulged. A dagger, sharp and gleaming, clattered from his left sleeve.
Solara pursed her lips. “A dagger? How messy.”
Devrak wasn’t moving, only standing frozen, his expression alarmed.
Nev lurched forward, but he caught himself, bracing his arms on a control panel. “What’s happening?”
“My hands are coated in a neurotransmitting paralyzing agent. It’s instantaneous, and lasts for about forty-five seconds.” She bent to retrieve the dagger. “I knew betraying you would be so hard on him that he’d try something drastic. He did have such a soft spot for you.”
Nev sounded afraid. “What are you doing?”
Solara came around to Devrak’s shoulder. She tapped his arm with the blade. “I told you he stands with me—if only when forced.” She sighed and gestured dramatically, as if this were all a game. “But see, look how loyal he is now! At my command, he stays his hand and holds still.”
“Solara…,” Nev said, choked. I didn’t know what he planned to say, and apparently he didn’t either.
She held his eyes again. “You thought to distract me with this little ploy, to pluck at my heartstrings and wring a sad song from me, while Devrak put a knife in my back? What is it you said? Can you really destroy me, while looking me in the face?” With a wicked smile, she added, “Now, now, you have changed.”
“Solara…Sol…if this is just between you and me, then—”
“Yes, how about I distract you instead? Why don’t you sing for me?”
In one quick motion, she drew the blade across Devrak’s throat. A spray of red droplets hit the feed.
It felt like the air was sucked from the control room at once, leaving all our mouths open, our lungs struggling to work in a vacuum. The blood began to pulse down, at first in a few trickles, then a flood. Like Devrak, none of us could breathe, or make a sound.
Solara didn’t have any such trouble. She tapped the bloody knife against her bottom lip and said, “After all, Devrak won’t be able to.”
My hand was over my mouth. A strangled noise escaped Eton. Nev’s fingers dragged down his cheeks, as if he wanted to cover his eyes but couldn’t look away. Devrak’s life poured down the front of his jacket in a red waterfall. He was gurgling, choking, spasming, but he still couldn’t move. His muscles locked him in place for us all to keep watching.
Solara tossed the dagger on her desk. “Really, I’d have preferred not to be the one to do this, at least not like this, but you two forced my hand.”
Finally, finally, not even the neurotransmitters could hold Devrak up anymore. Not without living tissue. His knees buckled, and his body collapsed out of sight.
Nev couldn’t help it, or hold it in any longer; he let loose a wordless cry of rage and horror, veins bulging in his neck.
“There’s my song,” Solara said.
Nev lunged at the feed like I’d wanted to do, as if he could reach her. His sister only smiled back at him, safe across a wide expanse of space.
“Don’t,” I gasped at Nev. I didn’t want her to have the satisfaction, though it was a little late for that.
Solara blinked at me, as if just noticing me. “Qole, dear, what a pleasure to see you again,” she said, as if we’d bumped into each other in a palace hall. Her eyes moved over my shoulder. “And you, Arjan. I suggest you board your ship, depart from there, and come join me. I could use you.”
Someone with our Shadow affinity, she meant. I doubted we would ever see the outside of a Dracorte laboratory again, if she got her hands on us.
“Not if you were the last person in the systems,” Arjan spat.
“Then I’ll find you myself. Or”—she shrugged—“you can die there. But it would be a true waste.”
“I’ll kill you,” Nev grated.
“No,” Solara said with a slow shake of her head. “You just had your chance, and missed it. I’m going to kill you.”
I lurched forward and cut the feed then, because she was right. She was distracting us, and that would get us killed.
Telu was tapping rapidly at her infopads and listening to her comms at the same time, burying the horror under an avalanche of data. Doing her job, like we all should be. With some effort, I forced the image of Devrak from my mind as she gave a report.
“Like we expected, Solara is sending ahead four destroyers with full complements of starfighters. Not enough to alarm the Treznor-Nirmanas, but enough to blow our fleet to dust.”
I took charge, since Nev was still staring, his face ashen, at the now-black vid screen. “Can we delay them?” I asked. “At least long enough for the new fleet here to mobilize?”
Basra’s mouth pressed into a line. “Talia and Gavros might have. But it looks like they’re running instead. They’re activating their Belarius Drives and getting ready to make the jump to light speed from the other side of Valtai. And, yep, they’re vanishing from our sensors.”
“The Swarm is made up of ground forces,” Eton said, before anyone could ask. “We don’t have a fleet.” It looked like he wanted to say something else, but he held himself back.
“Any other ideas?” Telu asked, then she snapped, “Nev, wake up.”
Nev glanced at her, eyes empty. He was empty. He looked finished before he was.
With him would go Alaxak. My people.
And yet…maybe I had to lose a lot, in order to save Alaxak.
I suddenly knew what I had to do. The clarity wasn’t bright. It was deep, dark, and heavy, like submerging my head into the cold ocean. But it was clarity just the same.
“I think…,” I began. “I’m heading for the Kaitan.”
Telu laughed, and then her smile fell away. “Oh, I thought you were kidding. You’re not actually going to go join Solara, right?”
“No. I’m going to stall her.”
“Uh,” Arjan said. “Didn’t you hear the part about the four destroyers and innumerable starfighters?”
I started walking. “Yep.”
That finally made Nev blink and look at me. “Qole. No.”
I smiled gently at him to take the sting out of my words. “I’m afraid you don’t have the right to tell me that.”
Nev took a few long strides up to me, reaching for my arm. “You saw what just happened to Devrak,” he nearly gasped. “I’m not having another person sacrif
ice themselves for a doomed cause. I told you, I can’t…I can’t lose you.”
Before he could grab me, I lifted my hands to his face and leaned into him. He was shaking, but warm and solid. So real. His eyes widened in surprise.
“We never really had each other, Nev,” I murmured. “It was just a fantasy.” I had to swallow to continue. “But Alaxak’s independence isn’t. And you can make it a reality. Please, see it through. For me.”
I pulled his face forward and kissed him, sweetly, slowly, savoring this moment for myself, even though we didn’t have the time. It was the good-bye I couldn’t say, with all the sadness and longing and gratitude I felt. Tears were running down my face when I pulled away.
“Don’t try to get in my way,” I whispered, my voice still soft. “I’ll knock you down if I have to.”
Nev, tears in his own eyes, glanced at Eton.
“Don’t look at me,” Eton said, dragging himself to my side, limping. “I’m going with her. She’s going to need someone to shoot those plasma rockets.”
“Eton—” I started.
“I’ve spent too much time trying to keep you safe at his expense.” He nodded at Nev. “And that didn’t work so well. So maybe I’ll try the reverse, and keep him safe at yours,” he added, with a humorless chuckle. “Besides…if you’re making a last stand, there’s nothing in all the systems that’s going to keep me out of it.”
“Or me,” Arjan said, stepping up.
“No, Arjan,” I said hurriedly. “You have Basra. Stay with him.”
He shot a pained look at Basra, whose eyes were wider than usual. “I wish I could. But I’m not leaving you to this. I know what you’re planning, and you need me there to…to fly, if you can’t manage, anymore.” He took another step toward me, his voice rising in determination. “This is our fate, Qole. Our family’s. I’ve been terrified of it my entire life, but I’m not going to let you meet it alone.”
Basra threw his hands in the air. “Well, damn it all to hell. I might as well come too. If you fail, I’ll just get blown up here, anyway.”
“Bas,” Arjan said, turning back to him. “You can’t come. You have too much to lose. You could take another ship, get out of here. Or we might be able to protect these docks, even if we can’t make it ourselves.”
Basra marched up to Arjan, seized his face, and dragged it down to his. His kiss was shorter than mine and Nev’s, but it made heat rush to my cheeks.
“You’re what I have to lose,” Basra murmured, as he pulled away enough to speak, his lips hovering near Arjan’s. “So shut up.” He pushed past him to come stand behind me.
I turned to the last member of the crew. “Telu…” My voice was pleading.
“Don’t you even think about it,” Telu hissed, stomping right up to me. “You always try to leave me! But there’s no way I’m staying behind now while my friends, my family, go into a scat-storm without me. Don’t. You. Dare.”
A laugh burbled out of me, making everyone glance my way. It surprised even me. Telu hadn’t unleashed on me like that in a long time, not since I’d become her captain. “Well,” I said, clearing my throat and swallowing, “I guess there’s not much to say, then.”
“Qole—” Nev tried again. “I can—”
“Stay here and lead your fleet,” I finished, before he could suggest anything stupid like coming with me. “I love you.” Those words stopped him dead. “I couldn’t tell you because it couldn’t work. But now it doesn’t matter. I love you, and I’ll love you until the end.”
His mouth had fallen open. I wished I could kiss it again, but part of me knew if I did, I would never be able to leave.
I heard his stunned words as I walked away, surrounded by family—all except one.
“I…I love you too.”
* * *
The construction docks were already in orbit, so we didn’t even have to leave the atmosphere, only the landing bay.
It also meant that we were way closer to our oncoming destruction. One fishing vessel against four destroyers. One ship between a king and defeat. One ship between a planet, a people, and annihilation. We just had to hold out until Nev joined us with his new fleet.
How we were going to do that…I wasn’t sure yet.
“We only have ten plasma rockets,” Eton reported from the turret. “A lot more photon missiles, but those will only be good against the starfighters.”
“I can try to take their communications offline,” Telu muttered from her station below my feet. “Scramble their nav-systems. But again, probably only the fighters, at this point. I’ve already broadcasted Basra’s message.”
It relayed the offer to come to our side, in exchange for incredibly generous compensation, courtesy of Hersius Kartolus. But so far, nobody serious had bitten.
“I hate to break your hearts,” I said, “but I’m not exactly planning on fighting in the traditional sense. How much Shadow in the hold?”
“Full,” Arjan said, almost eagerly, from the copilot’s station next to me. “What’s your plan?”
“Go for the destroyers,” I said, my fingers tightening on the throttle. My eyes were locked on the sweeping viewport, where I could just begin to make out the four pale, looming shapes in the distance. The starfighters were still invisible at this point, even though, as the faster ships, they were closer and would reach us first.
“Even if you can fly through those starfighters—which I don’t doubt,” Eton added, “they’ll chew those construction docks to pieces, given enough time. They don’t have the heavy artillery of the destroyers, but they can still do damage.”
That definitely was a problem to which I had no solution. One on top of a towering pile.
“I’m also putting out a call for any mercenary fleets in the vicinity,” Basra said, “with a lucrative job posting.”
“This isn’t a job,” Arjan muttered from the copilot’s station next to me. “This is a suicide mission.”
“Yes, that’s the exact, singular response I’ve gotten so far,” Basra replied tersely.
“Suicide run, huh? Was that what that transmission said?” a voice crackled into the Kaitan’s bridge over one of the comms intership. “I think that mercenary captain should retire, or put his diaper back on, because it sounds kinda like a Shadow run, to me.”
“Is that…?” My breath caught. I couldn’t let myself hope.
“Yes!” Eton let out an earsplitting whoop from the turret. “Never thought I’d say this, but thank the Unifier, and you, Jerra. I could kiss you.”
“I hope not. You’re not my type, and we didn’t come for you. You said Qole needed us, and we have our holds filled to bursting with Shadow, just for her.”
We. I searched the feeds and there they were, off our starboard side. The Alaxan fleet, or at least every battle-worthy ship with a Belarius Drive. There were hundreds. They would still be outnumbered by the starfighters, but they would be enough, if I could hold off the destroyers.
They had come. With Shadow. With hope. I had to blink tears from my eyes. I opened up a comm channel directly to the turret. “Eton. Thank you. For helping Nev. For this. Everything.”
“It’s the least I could do.”
“Well…welcome back.”
“Thank you.” His voice was rougher than usual. “I said there was nothing in all the systems that could have kept me from this…but you could have.”
He spoke next over the inter-ship comm channel, his volume masking any unsteadiness in his tone. “Stubborn bastards that you are, I didn’t think you’d trust my message. I didn’t even tell the captain, because I didn’t want her to count on your coming.”
Jerra snorted loud enough to vibrate the comm. “She can count on us more than she can you, I think.”
I cleared my throat before a bickering match could erupt. “I appreciate this more than I
can say, Jerra. And in case you were wondering, this is for Alaxak, not just me.”
“We know. That’s why we’re all here. Well, Hiat’s not. He’s taking care of things in our absence. So let’s get back soon, hm?”
Telu made a disgusted noise in her throat.
“I…I might not make it,” I said, my voice oddly level, given what I was saying. “But if I don’t, you take care of things for me, Jerra, will you?”
Her voice went soft. “I will. In the meantime, where do you want us?”
“Between the starfighters and the construction docks. Keep them engaged. Take them out if you can, but you’re mostly a distraction until Nev’s fleet is up and running.”
“And when will that be?”
I glanced down at Telu.
“Fifteen minutes,” she said grimly, looking up at me through her dark slash of hair.
Jerra whistled through the comm.
“Disengage if you have to,” I said hurriedly.
“If you don’t, we won’t, even if we have to go at those destroyers ourselves. So let’s get to it.”
There was no other choice. Only seconds later, the starfighters were upon us. All of us in Alaxan ships scattered as the photon blasts began to streak the darkness in a rain of death. The fighters followed, visible as sleek, metallic slashes as they swept by us…or tried to.
Our forces dodged and wove, heading them off with a hail of weapon fire that was as varied as our hulls. As with the starfighters in Alaxak’s orbit, here too they were caught off guard. They hadn’t expected us to be here, nor to be able to maneuver like we could. As for them…Truly, they were no more dangerous than a Shadow run, and we all had done that most days—and nights—of our lives.
Even so, there was an overwhelming number of enemy ships. There were a few explosions in the viewport and on the feeds already—Alaxan or otherwise, I didn’t know. I hardly spared them a glance. I ducked and rolled through the oncoming fighters as if they were any other asteroid field. Arjan barely had to help me from the copilot’s station. The blackness was already completely filming my eyes.
Shadow Call Page 30
