Devoted Deceptions, A 4th Millennium Adventure, Book 3

by Cherie Singer

  Wheeler seemed to struggle for a moment to put words together. "We lost a few people in the first attack, a handful more in the second wave. We put everyone still breathing into a pod."

  "How can you be certain of that when you were one of the first to abandon ship?"

  "Oh, that." Wheeler flushed, looked down at the deck. "Damn ensign panicked, hit the eject command before my order to do so."

  "And you didn't bother to override in time?"

  "Not fast enough, I guess."

  "Captain," Seleen interrupted, "damage and casualty reports coming up on your personal screen now. The Mallochon ship is refusing to respond to our hail."

  "What the narg are they doing here in the first place?"

  Wheeler shrugged. "I figure they saw the Orion patrolling the system and thought we'd found something in the mining operations on the moons around Pyrus."

  Wulfe flicked an observant glance over his former first officer. The sense of unease and distrust grew, and he hated the sensation. Blast Cat and her finger pointing. "Are the mining engineers finding anything of value?"

  "Not really. In fact, the activities on the third moon have even been abandoned."

  "I see. Seleen, status of the fighters?"

  "All have returned except for the two destroyed in the confrontation. And the other three leaving the immediate area."

  "What other three?"

  "The three now being targeted by the Mallochon ship!"

  "Who are the pilots?"

  Seleen scanned her tactical board, her muzzled whiskers jerking. "Blackwood, Lyon and, um, Commander Culver."

  "For the love of the Creator! Just what the narg do they think they're doing?"

  "I don't know, Sir! They aren't answering my hails. Captain, the Mallochon vessel is attempting to target them; she's also bringing her tractor beams on line!"

  "Knock out the Mallochon's power grids! Then you tell those fighters to get their collective tails back here!"

  "Aye, Sir!"

  Seleen's nimble paw-like hand played across the control panel with deadly accuracy to send a torpedo hurtling into the Mallochon's tractor grid. As a result, Blackwood's fighter spun end over end off into space. Lyon and Cat sprang loose with much more control, racing each other away from the Mallochon ship pursuing them, away from the Falchion.

  "Increase magnification! Helm, catch the enemy. Seleen, fire again as soon as we're in range."

  "Aye, Captain. The fighter pilots still are not answering my hails."

  Wulfe watched in blood-chilling fascination as the heavy Mallochon cruiser sped after the small fighters. His heart raced like a hyperdrive engine ready to implode when his screen told him the Mallochon's weapons were charged. "Seleen?"

  "Four seconds to our optimum range. Targeting. Ssstars!"

  The Mallochon ship fired at the precise moment Cat and Lyon's flight paths diverged. Lyon whipped around the Mallochon's starboard side and his Wildchild jetted away.

  Cat's Peacemaker exploded in an eye-searing burst of glory that momentarily blanked out the magnified screens.

  "Nooo!" Wulfe's bellowed denial ripped through his vocal cords until he swallowed blood.

  Chapter 22

  CAT BARELY had time to place the handcom and its invaluable information into Chief Ellery's possession before the ship-wide red alert klaxons sounded. "Chief, if I don't come back, see that the captain gets this. I planned to leave it with Mykal or Blackwood, but they're risking as much as I am to go with me, so it's up to you to follow through. If there's a problem, go see Albright."

  Ellery snapped her a salute. "You know I will, Commander."

  Seleen's amplified voice cut through the controlled chaos on the flight deck, advising Lyon to have his team, the first squadron, ready to draw enemy fire. The second squadron out, now headed by Blackwood, would close a protective shield formation around the expected launch of lifepods from the Orion.

  Cat spearheaded the third, unscheduled squadron. Lyon and Blackwood agreed with her; each of them should fly their respective crafts solo to eliminate the risk for copilots. Once their fighters left the relative protection of the Falchion's range of fire, they would be the targets of choice for the Mallochons. She double-checked the normal comm links between squadrons and the mother ship, as well as the frequency dedicated to the three of them, a frequency no one else would be able to use, not even Seleen.

  Time. The children would be out of oxygen in less than three hours. Impatient with the necessary delay, Cat watched while the other two squadrons launched. Her stomach knotted into a fist-sized lump of anxiety that refused to sit still. Not enough time, and what remained raced by at hyperspeed. She busied herself checking and rechecking the readouts on the control console of the Peacemaker while she waited her turn. Her launch window came on the heels of a staggering explosion of firepower viewable from the launch bay.

  Seconds after clearing the bay, the link with the Falchion crackled to life with Seleen demanding a response. Cat ignored the summons, knowing full well that right about now Wulfe would be ready to erupt with cataclysmic force. He'd intended only to keep her safe by incarcerating her, but she'd foiled him by her appearance with the squadron, caught him unprepared.

  She held her breath and actually cringed when the Falchion took a direct hit from one of the Mallochon ships, and cheered when the Falchion's torpedoes returned the damage tenfold. Send those monsters to the Underworld!

  The Orion, bombarded by the Mallochons, spun crazily in space. A flotilla of lifepods popped free of her weakened hull. The squadron under Blackwood encompassed the pods, shielding them. Cat ordered half of her own squadron to cover their retreat.

  Then events happened so fast they made her dizzy trying to keep up. The Falchion carved through the shields of one of the Mallochon cruisers and blew her into nonexistence.

  The Orion spewed out more lifepods, careened into the crippled Mallochon vessel, exploded on impact.

  The Peacemaker's sensors told Cat that the first rush of lifepods reached the Falchion safely. She sent the last of her squadron to escort the second batch of pods.

  The remaining Mallochon ship floundered in its attempt to navigate away. Now--the opportunity they needed--the final moments of the confrontation might give her, Lyon and Blackwood enough cover to move undetected. Cat transmitted the signal to her cohorts to break away from the vicinity of the Falchion. Creator bless them all.

  Over the main comm link she heard Seleen's voice command the Mallochons to stand down. They didn't respond to the Grimalkan's hails. Instead, the Mallochons turned on Lyon, Blackwood, and Cat as their fighters changed course. Seleen's orders for the squadron leaders to return to base snapped with urgency over the comm link.

  A Mallochon tractor beam latched onto the Peacemaker. The fighter lurched violently. Cat boosted power to the thrusters in an attempt to veer away from the beam. Warning lights predicted a system overload in ten seconds. She ignored them, winced at the life-threatening groans of biranium seams protesting the unnatural stress.

  Her tactical grid displayed a torpedo from the Falchion hurtling toward the Mallochon ship. It hit the vessel's tractor grid dead-on. The sudden cessation of the tractor beam sent an unprepared Blackwood gyrating away. The Peacemaker and the Wildchild sprang free, sped from the enemy ship.

  `Their weapons are going hot and we're the targets.'

  "I see it," Cat answered Lyon on the frequency dedicated to the squadron leaders. "Timing is everything. Three. Two."

  Lyon's battle cry punctuated her count of one, and everything happened simultaneously. The Wildchild and the Peacemaker altered flight paths, swerved off on opposite headings. The Mallochons bombarded them with their plasma cannons. Cat activated the defective shrouding system connected to her ship's outer hull, which would destroy the false hull. She immediately engaged the dependable shrouder, rendering her fighter invisible to sensors and to the eye. She corrected course yet again.

  The Mallochon's plasma burst sliced through
the area of space the Peacemaker had just vacated, scattering the remnants of her ship's outer hull and the old Falchion scrap fragments hidden within. Her ship ghosting now, Cat evaded the menace of flying debris.

  Piercing pain lanced through her head, followed quickly by a fierce attack of vertigo. The discomfort faded and elation filled her. Miracle of miracles! Out here in the emptiness of space, she was no longer alone! Wulfe's anguished cry echoed through her mind. Seeing what looked like her fighter blown into oblivion must have triggered something, opened his mind to the bonding link! She sent loving, reassuring thoughts to her husband. The chaos of his agonized emotions ebbed to be replaced by an exultant joy that thrilled her, took her breath away.

  She couldn't take the time to rejoice in the reenergized mental link with Wulfe. If Wheeler had made it off the Orion alive, she couldn't risk him finding out she was still alive. Not until she'd rescued Garrett, Morgan and Fallon. Gods, she had to reach them before the slimeworm realized she still lived.

  Cat watched Lyon dart off, the Mallochon ship hot on his ion trail. Creator protect the valiant security chief.

  With utmost reluctance, she maintained radio silence and prepared to set course away from the Falchion.

  WULFE CLOSED his eyes to the gut-wrenching sight.

  No man should ever be expected to watch his mate die twice and remain sane. Eyes still shut, the scene outside the Falchion interplayed with the nightmare that happened to the shuttle carrying his family. Against his will, he relived the moment in time that had seemed to destroy his entire life. Visions merged in blood-chilling detail. Twice?

  Cat's loving life-affirming mindtouch erased the horrors. She lived! Left too breathless to speak, all Wulfe could do was open his eyes and stare at the view screen, watch chunks of what seemed to be the Peacemaker's debris hurtle past and still know that Cat had somehow survived the Mallochon's assault. Twice.

  Unaware of his inner revelations, the rest of the bridge crew around him worked in stunned silence, their faces blanched white or strained into grim lines. He wanted to tell them the glorious news, but something held the words back.

  Door panels to the secondary lift whispered open. Albright stepped onto the bridge and made straight for Wulfe. "I have to speak with you, Captain."

  "It'll have to wait."

  "It can't. I won't." Albright slapped an inactive handcom against her thigh as she spoke. "This is a Class One Emergency."

  "Not now, Doctor!"

  Wheeler cleared his throat. "I'm not sure what to say, Cap, except maybe losing Catherine right now works out for the best."

  Not bothering to hold back the feral snarl twisting his upper lip, Wulfe whirled to face Wheeler. "Explain yourself!"

  "If it had to happen, at least I'm here to help you out. You need a first officer again. I'm without a ship. The choice seems logical to me."

  "Oh, God's stars!" Albright's fair complexion turned an apoplectic red and she slapped her thigh harder with the handcom, as if she wanted to bang it into Wheeler's face. Wulfe decided if she tried, he'd let her.

  Seleen hissed, the claws on her hands unsheathed and glittering dangerously in the red alert lighting.

  Wulfe clenched his hands into tight, tendon-snapping fists to keep from ripping the Earther's head off his neck. Wheeler's presence stayed him from rejoicing in the fact that his mate cheated death yet again--instinct warned him that he must keep the truth from Wheeler at all costs. Cat's accusations against the Earther--Creator! So deadly accurate! He could see it all so clearly now.

  But they needed proof--hard and fast proof--of Wheeler's betrayal.

  "Captain, I really must speak with you! Now!"

  "Back off, Doctor." Wulfe scrutinized Wheeler through narrowed eyes. "So you expect to step in as my exec?"

  Wheeler uneasily looked around at the rest of the bridge crew when Seleen again hissed her obvious disapproval. "Unless you don't want me back for some reason."

  "Captain, if you don't give me a few minutes right now, I swear I will strip naked and do a war dance on your bridge!"

  Wheeler moved toward Albright. "That's quite enough, Doctor. You will leave the bridge at once."

  "Like hell! Touch me and I'll break my oath to do no harm!"

  "Leave her alone, Wheeler."

  "I'm only trying to do my job, Cap."

  His job? Wulfe glared at Wheeler. "That's Captain." Then he ignored Wheeler. "Update, Seleen."

  "The Mallochon cruiser is in pursuit of Lieutenant Lyon and actively firing on him. His shields are down over sixty percent."

  "Riordan, lay in a course for intercept."

  "Aye."

  "Seleen, have the fighters ready for relaunch."

  "Aye, Captain. Sir, Blackwood has made contact with us. She's having navigation problems but is confident she'll be able to make repairs and rejoin us."

  While the Falchion swiftly moved to overtake the remaining Mallochon ship, Wulfe relished the comforting presence of Cat in his mind. He had no idea where she was, only that she had survived the Mallochon strike, and that she raged against some sort of constraint imposed by another. He had the sense the restraint was something other than physical--time, perhaps? Beyond those few facts, he sensed her fierce determination to triumph. He had no reason to doubt her success.

  In that moment when they'd reconnected, forgotten memories flooded his being. No wonder he'd loved Cat, instinctively trusted her against all logic. His brave little warrior with the valorous heart. How had he endured any length of time without the bond? More to the point, how had Cat survived? Only her warrior heart!

  Wulfe motioned Albright over to an alcove in the bridge bulkhead. "You have two minutes, Doctor."

  She passed him the handcom. "Nobody else should hear this, so use the screen."

  Wulfe activated the handcom, scrolled through the information. First, Cat's succinct summation of her suspicions regarding Wheeler. The steps she'd taken as Wulfe's first officer and why. Wheeler's Endorphidrine habit. Cat urging Wulfe to discuss everything with Albright or Lyon. And most damning of all, Wheeler's message telling Cat where the children could be found and how long she had to retrieve them before they ran out of oxygen.

  Wulfe darted a look at the nearest chronometer. Less than one hour!

  "Captain!"

  Seleen's distressed yowl tore Wulfe from the depths of the handcom's data files. The comm officer's slant-set eyes stared wide open at the viewing screen, and he followed suit. The Mallochon vessel bore down on Lyon with devastating bursts of plasma. "How soon will we be in range?"

  "Ssseconds."

  "Target!"

  "Captain, the Mallochon cruiser is sending out a distress call asking for reinforcements from their fleet."

  "Stop them!"

  "NO, DAMMIT!" Cat's screamed objection bounced around the interior of her fighter, all but deafening her as she averted her eyes. Even from this distance, the retina-searing white-hot blast temporarily blinded her ship's sensors. The Falchion had fired on the Mallochon cruiser the same instant the Mallochons bombarded Lyon with an immense plasma burst. Lyon winked from reality as if he'd never existed. The Mallochon vessel exploded into millions of pieces of deadly projectiles.

  A bleak coldness formed in the pit of her stomach. Gone. The man she thought of as family, the warrior she'd be proud to name Brother, lost in the quest to help her. The raw hurt of grief and guilt, increased double-fold by the backwash of helplessly anguished emotion from Wulfe, fueled her determination to bring Morgan, Garrett and Fallon home.

  She erected the strongest mental shields she could muster to keep her mind focused. Only then, did she place the tiny mechanism in one ear canal to provide her with an audio countdown of the time remaining before Garrett and Morgan ran out of oxygen.

  Cat resolutely turned her ghosting fighter from the fading glow of Lyon's violent end, closed her mind to outside distractions. She must concentrate. She laid in a course for Pyrus's third moon and pushed the small craft to the edge of its l
imits in the race to reach the children in time.

  Forty-five minutes.

  Garesh take Wheeler! It would be close. Cat vowed that if she lost this contest, the Earther would pay as high a price as the children and Fallon. Not that his life was worth as much, but he'd lose it in slow and painful increments.

  Twenty-seven long minutes later, the Peacemaker flew close enough into range of the moon's surface. Cat performed a northern hemisphere flyover, scanning for life signs. Nothing. Bloody hell! She'd shred Wheeler centimeter by bloody centimeter if she could get her hands on him!

  Eighteen minutes.

  Nerves strung so tightly her entire body hummed, she began to skim the southern half of the moon. Still nothing.

  Nine and a half minutes.

  Damndamndamn. Damn! Wait, a blip on the screen! Three blips! Two of them very small, very precious, and very Bellon. The third decidedly Earther. She took her first full breath in over an hour.

  The geoscan informed her she'd have to land farther away from their location than she'd hoped, but not so far as to be impossible. Cat took the steepest, fastest vector in that her ship could survive. She fought murderous wind sheer all the way down through the moon's miserable atmosphere, and still blessed the Creator for this chance.

  Six minutes.

  She had to cast out mooring beams to hold the fighter to the moon's surface in the gale-force winds. The Peacemaker's onboard scanners told her nothing alive big enough to worry about stood between her and the flimsy-looking habitat enclosure sheltering the children from the noxious environment.

  Cat grabbed the medikit and spare breathers, jammed everything she could into the utility pockets of her flight suit. She secured her firearm at her hip, hoping like the Underworld she wouldn't need it. She took a couple of deep breaths, positioned her own breather tube under her nostrils, finally opened the hatch of the ship.

  Four minutes.

  Foul-smelling air struck her like a fist pushed along by the brute force of the shrieking grit-infested winds. She left the gangway down once she reached the ground, stopping only long enough to seal the hatch against the hostile atmosphere. Cat faced into the blasting squall, fought its insistent exertion to push her off her feet.