They were lucky to be alive, and this surprised her most.
“Check in,” she said. One by one, her bridge crew answered. They sounded shaken, but no one was injured. She allowed herself to breathe. She had to account for the rest of her people, but at least the ones within reach lived.
Except one, who hadn’t checked in.
“Coraolis, what’s your status?”
No response. She craned her head to look for him. Her heart sunk. He was strapped in but slumped in his seat with his chin on his chest.
She unbuckled her harness and nearly fell out of her seat. Doomslayer was canted starboard with a tilt just enough to throw off her steps. Julia stamped her panic down and gained her balance. If he was hurt, she’d take it out of Dante’s hide. And she’d be sure to take her sweet time.
She put her ear next to his nose and mouth. She thought she felt his breath but couldn't be sure. “Come on, Cor. Wake up!”
Julia pressed her fingertips to his throat. His skin was warm. A good sign. She felt his pulse. It was slow with several seconds between, but it was there.
“Captain? Is the Mike okay?” Weis asked.
“I hope so. We need a medic in here. How do comms look?” she asked. “Get a status on everyone.”
A hand squeezed her shoulder, and the pulse beneath her fingertips quickened.
Coraolis inhaled a startled breath. “Julia?”
She went flush and got upright in the space of an eyeblink. Coraolis shook his head and leaned forward. He looked pale with dark smudges under his eyes; however, he smiled like someone happy to be alive.
She cleared her throat. “How do you feel, Mike?”
“Fine, I think. I was trying to keep those energy suckers off the ship. I’m not sure how much good I did." He glanced around, his brow furrowed. “We crashed, didn’t we?”
“Not as bad as we could have, thanks to Weis.” Julia stepped back. “And thanks to you, sounds like.”
“Maybe.” Cor unbuckled his restraints and stood. Unsteady on his feet, he waved off the Captain’s attempt to help. “I need to check on Andrus.”
“Of course.”
Gamal cleared his throat. “Captain? I have comms online.”
“Excellent.” She turned to her crew, attempting to maintain her command presence while the ship was in disarray. “Get the full personnel and ship status, Gamal, and see if you can raise our friends in FSF.”
“Aye, captain.”
“Let’s get Doomslayer online. I’m going after Dante before he finds out we survived.”
***
Julia reduced her strike team for stealth reasons. A squad of Fleet Special Forces, or FSF, spread out to watch their flanks, leaving her with the Mystics and those of her crew who could be spared. Most attended to injured or made repairs to the ship, while she laid claim to the healthiest security officers.
They marched through the woods at a pace the Mystics could match. Both men were fit, but they’d done the equivalent of already running a marathon that day. She wanted them with her, so she set an accommodating pace.
Coraolis hadn’t said much since they’d set out. He strode beside Andrus, listening to the older Mystic’s theories about the rift and the dragons.
“The important thing is to avoid Earth-centric thinking,” Andrus concluded after his speech.
Julia hadn’t followed everything—it was so convoluted—but she shuddered at the thought.
“Just because we’ve only encountered it twice,” Andrus said, “doesn’t mean it’s only happened twice.”
“Wait.” Julia paused and frowned at the pair. “This has happened before?”
“Not exactly,” Coraolis said.
Andrus hushed him.
“If you were meant to know, you would have been cleared for the information,” Andrus told her, his Secret Council arrogance dripping from the pat phrase. “Now, if you will please refrain from listening to our private conversation—”
“Maybe this isn’t the time for private conversation,” Julia interrupted the arrogant Mystic. “Pick your moment, gentlemen. Right now, stay alert.”
She turned away from them and increased her stride. She moved faster long enough to put some distance between herself and the Mikes. Let them talk all they wanted; she had a bellyful of emotions to digest. Anger overshadowed everything. Her superiors had hidden critical information before this mission. Maybe it wouldn’t have prevented the crash, but it sure as hell seemed relevant.
“Julia.”
She barely acknowledged his presence even though Coraolis had jogged to catch up with her. She wasn’t sure what to feel.
“What’s up, Mike?” She tried to sound casual, but she knew it came off flippant.
He flinched. “I’m sorry. You weren’t supposed to hear that.”
“Clearly,” she said. “You should be more careful. Fleet Special Forces are notorious gossips.”
He snorted. “I’d have told you, but I have orders.”
“No, Cor. I don’t want you violating secrets on my behalf.” She sighed. The forest around them was quiet, almost peaceful. “You’re an honorable man. Don’t change that for anyone’s sake.”
“Alright, then,” he said, looking pleased. “When it happened before, it was just one dragon. I almost didn’t survive. If I had been alone, I wouldn’t be here.”
“I’m glad you had back up. Should you be telling me this?”
“Now that you know, it does less harm to tell you the whole truth. It wasn’t really like this. A dragon came through, but no one helped it. I don’t know if the hole it used was naturally occurring or not. It’s being studied, but I’m not in on that.”
“I see,” she said. “Bad intel is worse than none at all.”
“I think that’s their logic, yes.”
She glanced over her shoulder. Andrus strode several meters away, out of earshot of their hushed tones. He fixed her with a cool stare when their eyes met. She faced front before she lost her self-control and did something unbefitting an officer like roll her eyes.
“You didn’t have to rush up here to talk to me. You should be taking it easy.”
“I should, so stop running off on me.” He nudged her. “What’s with these woods, anyway? Why is it so quiet?”
She froze, and belatedly remembered to raise her fist, the signal to halt. It was quiet. The woods on Cavey were a lot like those on Earth. It was full of buzzing insects and birds…or the alien equivalent. Creatures were always awake and singing day and night…
…unless a dragon was near.
She grabbed her communicator, scanning the treetops as she turned in a slow circle. She saw no dragons, but the forest was dense. It gave the team cover but did the same for the enemy.
“Alpha Team, be advised—”
Off to her right, the chatter of a machine gun cut her off. She pulled her weapon from her shoulder holster and followed the sounds of combat. She cursed; she should have been paying better attention. She should have noticed the silence. But she was a ship captain, not a ground combat troop. The FSF had been ready as they were trained and experienced.
She reached the clearing and took cover behind a thorn tree. Three soldiers engaged a three-story-tall dragon, drawing it away from a fourth soldier on the ground.
The dragon shrieked, drew back its head, and spat. A ball of fire shot at the soldiers. They scattered, and the fireball broke against the ground.
“Aim for its face!” Julia shouted. She dropped to one knee and drew a bead on the monster’s head. As it opened its mouth, she squeezed the trigger.
Projectiles sprayed the dragon’s face. Some hit their mark. It searched for its attacker, eyes radiating hate. She debated running, then took aim again. There would be no running from something like that.
The soldier on the ground rolled over, staggering as she got up and hugging her ribs. She was nearly at the dragon’s feet. She stumbled to get away, then turned and tore a grenade from her belt. She shouted something a
nd flung the grenade into the dragon’s mouth.
The beast’s head erupted. Azure fire rained down on them. Julia cringed when the flames hit the trees, fearing a forest fire; instead, the fire fizzled out.
The dragon’s body collapsed and burned to ash. The soldier was curled up on the ground, arms covering her head. Her fellows came over to give her a hand up, cheering. Julia scanned the area for additional threats while the rest of the team regrouped.
The captain pointed at her and nodded. “Corporal Gray, nice work,” Julia said. “No doubt they know we’re here now, so we need to keep moving.” She pumped her fist in the air in the universal arm signal to hurry up.
One soldier scouted ahead, two watched his flanks, and the rest spread out in a staggered formation, the better to watch each other's backs. Andrus had caught up and was walking in the middle of the team with the squad’s medic.
Coraolis looked abnormally pale as he joined her.
“That was really something,” he said.
“Yeah? It isn’t like that on the other side?” Julia asked.
He laughed. “Not remotely. For one thing, it’s quieter. Nothing blows up.” He scratched his ear. “But I can’t say that anything has been normal about this mission.”
“You’re telling me.”
She’d been right; the combat had gotten the attention of every dragon in the area. The smaller ones were dispatched without a great deal of effort. The larger ones took the squad’s coordination and a few heroics that set Julia on edge. They got better with each engagement.
They fought smart, intuitively, only fighting when there was no other option. Her team’s quick thinking kept them alive, but there were still injuries and one fatality. Julia learned the fallen soldier’s name and etched his face onto her heart, the same as her fallen crew. He was another victim Dante must answer for.
Abruptly, the forest ended, and the team stepped onto rocky ground outside the cave. The rift stretched impossibly high, and she watched as the hole split open further. The swirl of lights made it almost excruciating to look at head-on, and then she made out a familiar silhouette.
“There he is,” she said. “Dante!”
He didn’t appear to hear. He didn’t even turn around before he stepped into the rift, and it sealed behind him.
“No!” She charged the space where he had been. A patch of scorched earth was the only sign that anything had been there. He’d gotten away.
“Captain!”
Julia joined Corporal Gray who stood over a pile of ash.
“I wouldn’t believe it if I didn’t see it myself,” Gray said. “Sir, this was a dragon. He thought he’d get the drop on me. I saw him coming, but then poof. Ash. It happened right when that rift closed up.”
“That’s almost too promising.” Julia nudged the pile with her boot. It looked like the first dragon they’d killed. “I wonder if all the dragons have immolated. Set up a perimeter, see what we can find. If Dante comes back, we’ll be here. I’ll be here. See what else is in the area.”
“Aye, captain.” Gray hustled off to find her fellow dragonslayers.
***
They quickly set up camp outside the cave. Julia braced herself for a list of casualties, so the first report took her by surprise. Ensign Song was alive. She was weak, and all she remembered was following Dante into the cave, but she’d live. She just needed food and sleep.
The rest of the news wasn’t as good. They located the remains of Julia’s landing crew—the ones who had gone to Cavey in the shuttle—and gave them a proper burial. Julia spoke over their graves and shared everything she knew about them. She felt some of the weight lift from her chest. She focused on the memories she chose to share instead of their last moments.
At last, she did right by them. That thought kept her dry-eyed; she’d done her grieving. Now, it was time to say goodbye.
Afterward, her people returned to their duties. She sent half the FSF squad back to Doom Slayer to report in and resupply. She watched them go, struggling to be okay with letting them out of her sight.
Coraolis found her, Andrus trailing behind. He looked solemn for the first time since she’d met him. Cor glanced at the other Mystic and hesitated before he spoke. “I hope they knew how much their Captain cared about them.” He squeezed her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Julia. I had no idea how much you were hurting.”
“They were family.” She put her hand over his and squeezed back, then let her hand fall to her side. After a moment, he did the same. “I never thought I’d be here. In my mind, I know there wasn’t a thing I could have done to save them, but I’ll still carry this with me for the rest of my life.”
“If there’s anything I can do…”
“Thanks, Cor. If I need to talk, I know where to find you.”
He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling.
“Captain, may I say I’m very sorry for your loss,” Andrus said, closing in when she wasn’t looking. “I’m sure these were good men and women.” He sounded like a politician, saying the right words without an ounce of feeling behind them.
“Thank you, Mike,” she said stiffly.
“I came to inform you we will be unavailable for the next several days.” He shot Coraolis a look that Julia couldn’t interpret. “I will be exploring the Astral Plane to make sure the threat is gone. Coraolis will be working with me.”
“Oh.” Coraolis seemed surprised, too, and a little unhappy. “Okay, what do you need from me?”
“Just a private space, and a guarantee your team won’t interfere while we work.”
Julia nodded. She was concerned and wanted to know more, but the Mystics had their own hierarchy, and Andrus outranked her friend. It was her duty to work with the ranking Mystic. Unfortunately.
“You’ve got it, Mike. Just let me know what you need, and I’ll see that you get it,” she said.
It turned out that he didn’t need much, other than isolation for himself and Coraolis. No one wanted to use the cave. It felt tainted, especially to the Mystics. They found a thicket on the edge of the woods and set up a shelter, then disappeared into it. Julia assigned guards to make sure they wouldn’t be disturbed, then went about her business.
Commander Vang called from Side Liner. Their talk was too short, but they promised each other they’d catch up once she was back on board. Vang seemed confused, and genuinely sad when he heard about the lost crewmembers. He looked forward to putting the affair behind them and returning to fleet business.
Julia focused on other things while they waited for the Mystics to return from isolation. She had a team to lead and a ship to salvage. She wrote reports on the mission and arranged for rides home on other boats. Not everyone would fit on Side Liner, as much as she wanted them to.
And there were times when she was alone, and she thought about Coraolis and wished she could talk to him.
CHAPTER NINE
Dante lay in darkness so complete, he half believed he’d gone blind. Breathing was uncomfortable, but not painful. That seemed wrong. He shouldn’t be breathing. He sprawled on a cold, damp surface. The dank air circulating in and out of his lungs reminded him of leaky basements and death.
He was alive, then. The realization surprised him, because he was sure he hadn’t failed. He rolled onto his back and felt along his torso. He wasn’t bleeding. He wasn’t even sore. He discovered an inch-long ridge just below his solar plexus. It didn’t hurt when he prodded it; in fact, it didn’t feel like much at all.
His memory was distorted. He’d walked into the rift in his physical body and, after that, everything got confused. He’d meant to use his own body in a blood ritual to close the rift. He remembered going through with it. Yet here he was, alive and whole. He didn’t even hurt much unless one counted the aches from sleeping on limestone.
He rolled onto his back and blinked to clear his eyes. He saw the gentle curve of the cave roof, and the icy stalactites that reminded him so much of dragon teeth. That was enough to tell him w
here he was. It also told him he’d succeeded. If the rift was still open, he’d be bathed in blinding shades of green and violet.
He clambered to his feet and let momentum take care of itself as he put one foot in front of the other. He heard voices ahead, but the acoustics in the cave made it impossible to make out the words. He could only tell it was two men with strangely familiar voices.
He reached the mouth of the cave and stopped to rub his eyes. It was early morning, and the gray pre-dawn rendered everything in black and white. Several temporary shelters were set up off by the tree line well away from the cave, laid out with military precision.
“I won’t condone selfish behavior. It is one thing to be diplomatic. This is quite another matter,” one of the men said.
They were off to the side of the cave, out of sight, but now he heard them perfectly well. He closed his eyes and gathered himself. He wanted to be on his best game when he made his way to them.
“What exactly have I done that was selfish? Did I order you to watch me meditate for three days? Did I escalate a situation with a dangerous, unknown entity and nearly get me and my partner killed?” the other snapped. The tone didn’t match the voice, somehow, but Dante knew this one too.
“Hindsight, Coraolis. I did what was necessary.”
“Including putting me on house arrest,” Coraolis scoffed. “I try to understand you, Andrus, but you baffle me. Come back to me when you find the regulations on personal relationships between Mystics and Earth Fleet personnel. I’ll wait.”
“Coraolis…”
Dante coughed. He had to do something to break the growing ice.
The men went silent. Dante knew who they were now—they were the ones who’d tried to close the rift and failed so spectacularly. He waited, counting the seconds until one of them came looking for him. Their reaction would tell him plenty. Only they didn’t come. They were cautious. He understood their trepidation.
Dante stepped into the open, his hands in the air. Their eyes rounded in surprise. He looked down at himself. He supposed he did look a little shocking, his clothing torn and bloodstained. His hands were splattered with blood as well. He suspected it was his own but wasn’t positive.
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