by Cheree Alsop
“Where is he going?” Liora asked Devren.
“If I know Tariq, he’s going to trigger the keycard somewhere at the other end of the complex. Hopefully it’ll send all the officers on a search and we’ll be able to sneak through,” Devren replied.
“Then how does Tariq get back?” Liora asked.
“That’s my job,” Hyrin answered. “Get me to my computers and I can crash the command center. Without them, we’re sitting tarlons.” The Talastan shook his head. “I hate being away from my computers.”
Sirens sounded and lights flashed above the gates. The officers’ monitors beeped at the same time.
“Yes, sir,” they responded almost in unison. The group took off through the crowd, leaving only one officer next to the gate to man the station.
“My turn,” Shathryn said.
She strode forward and Devren motioned for the others to inch behind. Shathryn reached the officer and gave him a big smile.
“Well, aren’t you cute?” she asked.
The gilled Salamandon blushed noticeably. “I don’t know if I’d say that.”
“Of course you should,” she continued. She leaned against him and took off his hat. “Although it’s too bad you have to wear this to shade your beautiful eyes.”
“They’re orange,” the Salamandon said. “I thought they creeped people out.” His gills opened and closed quickly on either side of his neck.
“They don’t creep me out,” she replied. “Is there any chance I could steal a few minutes of your time?”
“W-what did you have in mind?” the Salamandon officer asked.
Shathryn motioned behind her for the crew to sneak though. The officer glanced back, but she turned his face to her again.
“Something like this,” she said.
Shathryn planted a big kiss on the Salamandon’s lips as Devren and the Kratos crew hurried through the gates. Stone’s expression was confused when O’Tule pulled him past.
“Don’t worry,” O’Tule whispered. “She’s acting. Shathryn loves to act.”
The crew reached the Star Chaser and carried the Omne Occasus inside. Each of them double-checked the ties that kept the crate from sliding in the cargo hold. After the conversation with Tramareaus, it felt as though they loaded their own doom back onto the ship.
“He’s heading for the gate,” Hyrin was saying when Liora reached the Copper Crow’s small bridge.
“Will it work?” Devren asked, watching the screen intently.
“It’ll still say Harriman Trun, but it should show Tariq’s picture. With any luck, he’ll be on board before they put two and two together,” Hyrin replied.
O’Tule leaned over his shoulder. “Is that the picture they’ll see?”
“Yes.”
“He looks mad,” she noted.
Liora smothered a smile at the image on Hyrin’s screen. Tariq had his arms cross and glared as if he wished he was anywhere else than having his picture taken.
“I remember that,” Devren commented with a grin. “That was the day my father told him he was promoted.”
“He didn’t like that?” Liora asked.
Devren shook his head. “Our chief medical officer got the boot when we found him shooting up with the meds instead of using them to treat the crew. With the promotion, Tariq was the youngest chief medic in the history of the Coalition. It was a lot of pressure.”
“Not as much as he’ll get if he’s caught going through the gate,” Hyrin said.
Everyone watched the monitor in silence. Over the camera Hyrin had tapped, they saw an exhausted looking Tariq approach the gate. Someone else was with him. Liora realized with surprise that it was Zran, bandaged and looking as grim as Tariq as if he knew the risk they faced.
Fortunately, the Salamandon officer appeared frazzled after his encounter with Shathryn. His hat was skewed, and her red lipstick still colored the side of his long, thin mouth.
“He tasted like fish,” Shathryn said. She winked at Stone. “You’re a much better kisser.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” he told her.
“I’m not,” O’Tule replied. “Gross.”
Tariq and Zran wordlessly handed the Salamandon their cards. He scanned them with his wrist monitor and barely glanced at the hologram faces that appeared. He waved them through.
Tariq and Zran were halfway across the docks when the alarm sounded. Both men took off running. The Salamandon answered his monitor. His eyes widened and he ran through the gate after them.
Chapter 16
“I can’t believe we pulled that off,” Tariq said.
“That was a close one,” Zran agreed. “I didn’t figure I’d fall in with rebels when I left Titus.”
“We aren’t really rebels,” O’Tule pointed at.
At Zran’s questioning look, Liora explained, “There’s still hope that the Coalition might pardon the crew once we get things resolved.”
“Are you sure?” Zran’s question hung in the air.
“We’re not rebels,” Shathryn echoed, but without her usual bite when someone mentioned it. She was too busy gazing longingly in the direction of the Star Chaser that followed on their starboard side.
They were back in the Kratos. The crew sat in the mess hall preparing to eat Jarston’s most recent invention.
O’Tule eyed the red soup with uncertainty. “How do I know this soup is safe to eat?” she asked loudly to change the subject.
“Of course it’s safe,” the cook called from the kitchen. “It’s not like you can be poisoned by steamed manikoma in nukmuk sauce.”
“Are you sure?” Shathryn asked.
“There’s one way to find out,” Zran said. “I’m hungry enough to risk poisoning at this point.”
O’Tule laughed, then covered her mouth as if surprised such a sound had come out of it.
Zran smiled at her and took a bite of his soup. Everyone watched him with careful scrutiny.
“As much as I want to dramatically fall off this chair and fake dying, I can’t do it,” Zran admitted. “This soup is way too good.”
“I like him,” Jarston called out. “He can stay.”
“You say that about anyone who likes your cooking,” O’Tule replied.
“Exactly,” Jarston said, poking his head from the kitchen window. “If they like my cooking, they must have good taste. We need more people with good taste aboard this starship.”
Zran chuckled. “I can’t argue with his logic.”
Liora lifted a spoonful of the soup. She had yet to try anything from Jarston that wasn’t amazing, so she wasn’t surprised when the savory herbs and spices from distant planets filled her mouth with a refreshing, filling flavor.
“Where were you off to after Titus?” she asked Zran. “Or were you planning to fight in the Gladarian for the rest of your life?”
“I’m really not sure,” Zran replied frankly. “After I lost my mother, I sort of lost my path, too.”
“That’s horrible; we were devastated to hear about Obruo blowing up the Gaulded,” O’Tule said. “All those poor people. How did you escape?”
Zran’s gaze found the floor. “I had been trying to get my mother to leave for a long time, but she felt having a home on the Gaulded gave her the opportunity to help those in need.”
Liora’s heart gave a remorseful beat.
“I couldn’t take it anymore,” Zran continued. “I told her I was going to Titus to earn enough to buy us an apartment on a homestead ship.” His grip on his spoon tightened. “I had just landed when I heard about Gaulded Zero Twenty-one being blown up by a Damaclan.”
Everyone’s eyes went to Liora. Hyrin and Devren entered the room, ending further conversation.
“We’re on course for the water planet of Gliese,” Devren told them. “It’s one of the largest ocean planets on record. Hopefully there’s enough water to absorb the energy from the red orb.”
Hyrin took a seat next to Liora. “Exactly,” he said. “Tramareaus,” he igno
red the sounds of disgust from O’Tule and Shathryn, “Said we need extreme amounts of liquid to destroy the hot Feren energy. I can’t think of more liquid than a water planet.”
“Will it destroy the planet?” O’Tule asked.
“We’re not sure,” Hyrin replied with less certainty.
“Better than an entire galaxy,” Shathryn said.
“Unless you live on that planet,” Zran pointed out quietly.
Liora felt the ship shudder. Everyone looked at each other.
The intercom buzzed. “Captain, we’re under attack!” Duncan called out.
“On our way,” Devren replied.
The crew jumped up and ran from the mess hall toward the bridge. Another explosion hit, knocking them against the wall.
“Why is this beginning to feel familiar?” Tariq asked before he ducked into the medical wing.
“Don’t get used to it,” Devren shouted after him.
“Then shoot back,” Tariq called over his shoulder.
They reached the bridge just behind Hyrin. The technical specialist pressed a button and the screen revealed four Coalition starships bearing down on them.
“They appeared out of nowhere,” Officer Straham said. “We had no warning. They began firing without even trying to contact us.”
“They must have followed the Star Chaser without us knowing,” Devren said. “We led them right to the Kratos.”
“We have to get to the Kansas transporter,” Shathryn reported, her voice tight. “It’s our only chance.”
Four missiles lit up the screen.
“Those are the new high impact heat signature tracers,” Hyrin told Devren. “They’re not messing around here.”
“O’Tule, full power to the shields. We can’t outmaneuver those.”
“Already done, Captain,” O’Tule replied.
“Duncan, tell the crew to brace for impact,” Devren ordered.
Duncan’s voice spoke over the intercom. Liora could imagine Lieutenant Argyle’s engine crew rushing for safety. Shathryn pushed a button and the warning sirens sounded.
“Hyrin, answer in kind.”
Hyrin pushed several buttons on his screen and two missiles fired. Two others left from the Star Chaser just visible on their starboard side.
Everyone watched the missiles in silence. With no way to avoid them, the impending explosion filled the air with tension. O’Tule grabbed Shathryn’s hand. Shathryn’s gaze stayed on the window where the blunt nose of the Star Chaser could be seen.
“Four, three, two,” Hyrin called out.
The impact struck them to the front and the right side, rocking the starship hard. Crew members were thrown to the ground. Sirens went off and the lights darkened on the bridge.
“Emergency lighting,” Devren called out. He stood shakily. Blood dripped down the side of his face from a gash on his brow.
Hyrin held his bleeding lip where it had struck the monitor. Liora helped Duncan up. The older officer climbed shakily back to his seat.
“Shathryn?” O’Tule said.
Shathryn lay motionless on the ground.
“Shath?” O’Tule repeated more urgently.
“Call Tariq,” Devren commanded. “Officer Straham, take over Shathryn’s duties. I need to know the status of our ship. Hyrin, report.”
Hyrin typed frantically on his keyboard, but the monitors didn’t respond.
“Electronics have been damaged,” Hyrin said. “I can’t give us a visual.”
“Switch the screen to real view,” Devren said.
Hyrin pushed several buttons, but the front screen stayed blank.
“Incoming,” O’Tule said from where she knelt on the floor with Shathryn’s head pillowed in her lap. “Liora, can you get that?”
Liora hurried to O’Tule’s seat. She pressed the alert O’Tule indicated. A fuzzy transmission of Stone’s face appeared on the small screen above O’Tule’s station.
“Are you guys alright?” he asked, his voice cracking.
Unsure what to say, Liora looked back at Devren.
“We’re hit hard,” Devren replied. “We’ve lost our monitors. We’re blind here.”
“We’re not much better off,” Stone said. “But our monitors work. I’ll send you a patch. Hold on.”
Liora selected the incoming transmission. The monitor showed what was in front of them from a side viewpoint. The four Coalition ships were much closer. More missiles sped toward the Kratos.
“Hold on,” Devren called out.
The impact of the missiles on the monitor showed pieces of the hull tearing away. Explosions shot out, then vanished in space’s void. A panel of metal drifted off. Steam vented along with a stream of liquid.
Inside the Kratos, the warning sirens stopped entirely. The emergency lighting flickered, revealing crew members jammed against the wall and beneath monitors. The scent of electrical smoke filled the air.
“Report,” Devren croaked from the floor to the left of his chair.
Liora and Hyrin pulled back to their seats. The door to the bridge slid open. Tariq appeared looking in the same shape as the bridge crew. He held his left side and limped in.
“Who needs help first?” he asked.
“Shathryn,” O’Tule and Duncan said immediately.
Tariq met Liora’s gaze. She saw the pain he contained. He gave a nod as if relieved to see her up. When he knelt beside Shathryn, she heard the catch in his breath.
“They’re sending up a curvator,” Hyrin said; astonishment and horror colored his voice.
“Shields are down completely,” Liora reported from her flickering monitor.
“Are they planning to blow up the Omne Occasus with the Kratos?” Devren asked. “That would destroy us all.”
“Maybe they don’t believe we have it,” Hyrin replied. “Brace yourselves.” There were tears in the Talastan’s eyes and when he blinked, they slid down his cheeks.
“Get out of there,” Stone demanded. His image and voice flickered off and on. “Or we’re all done for!”
Lieutenant Argyle’s voice came over the intercom. “Thrusters are down. We’re losing hydraulic fluid faster than I can fill it.”
“Give us anything you can,” Devren replied.
“We’re sitting tarlons,” Argyle told the captain.
“We can’t move,” Devren reported to Stone. He paused, then said, “Thank you for the support you’ve shown. You’ve been a true friend. Get to the transporter before the curvator hits the Kratos.”
Stone’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not getting out of this that easy. You disable the Omne Occasus and save this galaxy. That’s an order, Captain.”
His monitor went blank.
“The curvator is on its descent,” Hyrin said, his voice thick with emotion. “Crew, brace for impact.”
O’Tule reached up and grabbed Liora’s hand. She and Tariq hunched over Shathryn to shield her from the blast. Devren pulled up to his captain chair and sat, his gaze on the screen above Hyrin’s station. Hyrin gripped the arms of his chair so hard his yellow hands turned white.
“This is it,” he said. A tear splashed onto his keyboard.
Movement out the window caught Liora’s gaze.
“The Star Chaser,” she said.
Shathryn’s eyes flickered open.
Devren rose to his feet.
The Star Chaser gunned its engines a moment before the small red dot that was the curvator reached the Kratos’ position on the screen. The belly of the Star Chaser showed in the window, then it was above them.
“No!” Shathryn shrieked.
The percussion of the curvator striking the Star Chaser shoved the Kratos away from the Coalition ships. Several of the monitors flickered back on. The emergency sirens sounded again.
“Hyrin, aim for the transporter,” Devren called out. His face was pale against the red blood on his brow.
Shathryn’s sobs filled the air as Hyrin used the reverse thrusters to maneuver the ship. The Coalition fle
et tore through the remains of the Star Chaser. Debris floated past the monitor.
Hyrin flew with shaking hands. Liora watched the screen as the Kansas transporter drew near. Hyrin didn’t wait for it to couple. He maneuvered the arm and readied the toggle.
“Four more missiles are heading our way,” Liora reported quietly. “Five seconds to impact.”
Hyrin gently nudged the arm into the link. With the monitors flickering on and off, he had to perform the procedure manually. The scrape of the metal shook the Kratos.
“Three seconds,” Liora said. Her heart raced as she watched the small red dots draw closer. Her monitor beeped quietly; the sound was barely noticeable within the call of the sirens.
Hyrin adjusted the toggle. It caught inside the link.
“Now, Hyrin,” Devren shouted.
Hyrin hit the button.
“Two, one,” Liora said.
She braced. Tariq’s hand grabbed her shoulder. Instead of the pain of another explosion, the pulling sensation and rush of cold through her body stole her breath.
Liora opened her eyes to see the vast expanse of empty space in front of them where the Coalition ships and the wreckage of the Star Chaser had been.
“Stone,” Shathryn called out. She curled in a fetal position and her body shook with sobs.
“Destroy the transporter,” Devren ordered quietly.
Hyrin wiped his cheeks. “Captain, that’s a death sentence if we’re caught,” he said.
“It’ll be a death sentence if they come through before we can get out of here,” Devren replied. “We need time to repair the Kratos, get to Gliese, destroy the orb, and leave without the Coalition being the wiser. Do it. That’s an order.”
Hyrin maneuvered the ship away from the transporter whose sails were unfurling to recharge from the starlight.
“Let’s get you to the med wing,” Tariq said gently to Shathryn.
She shook her head.
“You hit your head hard,” the medical officer urged. “I need to check for a concussion.”
Shathryn refused to move. O’Tule climbed to her feet with a worried expression.
“Shoot down the sails first,” Devren told Hyrin, his focus on the monitor. “We can’t risk it returning before we can destroy it.”
