Fenny shrugged and smiled rather awkwardly. “Just talking.”
“To that murderous chick?”
“Vittoria. Her name’s Vittoria,” Fenny corrected fervently. “And Vi’s not the one who attacked you. She’s not murderous, Rami. Never has been.”
Ramya sighed and sheathed her blaster. She wanted to roll her eyes at Fenny. Pterostriches were universally vicious and everyone knew that. No one had ever known a Pterostrich that practiced non-violence. But pointless as Fenny’s idea was, seeing her indignant expression, Ramya didn’t have the heart to taunt her. She decided to change the conversation instead.
“Captain’s called us all. Did you hear that?” she asked.
“Yes, I know,” Fenny replied, and walked away from the cage. “I was just wrapping up with Vi. Come on, let’s go.”
Ramya threw a quick glance backward at Vittoria as she walked toward the exit with Fenny. The chick had trotted up to the front end of its cage to look wistfully at them. It raised its head and let out a sad coo when Fenny opened the door of the hold as if it were missing her. Fenny sighed noisily. “Vi’s a nice girl. She’s no murderer.”
“Fenny, a Pterostrich chick can’t be your pet,” Ramya said once they were inside the elevator. “They’re ferocious.”
“They’re trained to run races, Rami,” Fenny said. “They can be trained.”
“You know nothing about training them,” Ramya countered.
Fenny’s eyebrows danced. “I do. I read a bunch of articles on training them.” She leaned closer and whispered, “I’ve already started giving her lessons. She’s good.”
“Fenny . . .” Ramya couldn’t say what she wanted to. It was a stupid enterprise. The Komilahns who trained Pterostriches for a living had done that for generations. They knew their business. Fenny, on the other hand, was a navigator on a freighter who knew nothing about Pterostriches. Heck, she probably didn’t even have a lizard to play pets with. Playing with a Pterostrich was risky. One mistake and Fenny could be dead. But looking at Fenny’s shining eyes, Ramya knew, advice would be lost on her. “Call me when you go about training her. I’d like to watch.”
Fenny smirked. “More like you want to watch over me, huh, kid?”
“Maybe,” Ramya said. “Just call me, all right?”
“All right, all right,” Fenny said. “Why do you think the captain called us?”
That was a nice deflection. She didn’t say it aloud though, simply chuckled a little. “To discuss our plans?”
“We already know our plans. Get to Torsus-Mele, get the fuel store fixed, and then get to Bucifer P9 and meet Mifek. What’s there to discuss?”
She was right. They knew those plans already. What else was there to talk about? A worry came quickly to the surface, one she had been forcing down heavy-handedly for a day. This could be about her, about her identity to be precise. She didn’t have too much to worry about since the captain already knew, as did Fenny. Still, Sosa might and definitely react badly to her duplicity, if not Wiz or Flux. Her gut tightened at the thought and Fenny nudged her elbow right away.
“You coming?” she asked playfully. The elevator doors were already open and Ramya hadn’t noticed. Fenny threw a meaningful look at her as she trudged out.
“I think it’s something to do with Sosa,” Fenny said worriedly. “That woman’s been quiet as a rock since her patient died.”
Sosa’s patient, the pilot of the Stryker, had been laid to rest in a quick ceremony at the Reliquary grove. That was the only time Sosa had emerged from her quarters and the only time Ramya had seen her since coming back to the Endeavor. The Norgoran had looked drained, her usually bright green skin pale and splotchy. She had barely spoken to Ramya.
“You think she’s unwell?” Ramya asked.
“We’ll find out,” Fenny said, pushing open the green painted door of the med-bay.
They were all gathered inside. Sosa sat in her chair backed by the bottle-filled alcove, Captain Milos next to her, and Ross, Wiz, and Flux on the other side of the table. Everyone looked as Ramya and Fenny entered, but Ramya was sure Ross stared particularly keenly at her. Ramya’s heart picked up pace as she found a spot to stand along the wall. This was about her, she was sure.
“Now that we’re all here, let’s get started,” Captain Milos said. Ramya tucked her icy fingers into her pockets and held her breath. “You can see I’ve only called the old crew together. That’s for a reason. First of all, I wanted to raise a glass in a toast to all of you and our survival.”
He held up a glass of Pax. Everyone—Ross, Wiz, and Sosa—who had glasses in their hand raised them in response. The captain smiled and continued in a grave voice. “But there’s more to it than cheer. You all know, we have a difficult task ahead of us. We have to find allies, convince the Confederacy that an invasion might be looming. I hope Chief Mifek can lead us to the evidence we need to get the Confederacy to act. And I hope we aren’t too late already.” He paused to let out a long, labored breath. “I don’t know where our path leads us, but it sure isn’t a pretty path. If any of you want to leave, I’d be happy to let you go.”
As soon as the captain paused, swift glances flew around the room. A hushed murmur rose before dying down quickly.
“We’re in this together, Captain,” Wiz said assertively. “I don’t think any of us thinks otherwise.”
The captain looked around the room and nodded gravely before speaking again. “I’m proud of you all. If what we’ve heard until now is true, the galaxy is under siege. But people who should be defending it are unwilling to accept the weight of the situation. They’d rather be mired in their petty politics.”
The captain stopped and ran his fingers over the bandage on his head the way he had been doing for the past day. Ramya squinted. He had to be in considerable pain. She was about to tear her eyes away when she noticed Sosa. She, too, was looking at the captain, her gaze worried as it scanned him. Ramya inhaled sharply, her insides tightening. Something was wrong, she was sure of it.
“We are the only ones who are in a position to do something to stop an invasion if it happens. But we’re just a few and believe me . . . we’re nothing in front of a Locustan invasion. We need people—friends, allies, anyone who’s willing to fight with us. We have to do whatever it takes to recruit people to this cause.”
He paused again and took a long breath. And once again Ramya noted how Sosa’s eyes narrowed.
“The Mwandans are our first allies. So, I want all of you to be extra courteous to our friends on this ship.” He looked around the room, his gaze lingering on Fenny before moving on. “We need them. Remember, we need everyone—thieves, mercenaries, outlaws—anyone who’d fight for the galaxy and the survival of our races.”
Captain Milos pause and gestured at Ross. “That’s all I had to say. Your turn, Commander.”
“Ah, yes. There’s something I wanted to talk about. Something you all need to know,” Ross said. He paused and twiddled his thumbs for a moment, then quickly looked at the captain and Sosa. “I wouldn’t have known this if I hadn’t gone out on the Stryker.”
Ramya sucked in a lungful of air and held it. He was going call her out. Ross looked around the room, his gaze icy as it came to rest on Ramya. He might’ve stared for merely a second, but it felt like an eternity in hell. Ramya realized she was not ready to see their faith in her shatter and definitely not prepared to be called out so publicly as a liar. But ready or not, it was about to happen.
Ross tore his gaze off her and looked around the room again. “I realized . . . how important all of you guys are to me. You’re family. All of you.” He flashed an awkward smile and shrugged. “That’s all.”
That’s all? What the hell? Ramya let go of the breath she’d been holding and gulped instead. Wasn’t he going to tell them who she really was?
“That’s so sweet, Ross,” Fenny said, breaking into a loud cackle. “But it totally doesn’t suit that grumpy thing you’ve got going.”
Wiz and Flux joined in as well and soon the whole room reverberated with good-natured ribbing, laughter and chuckles.
“All right, if that’s all then that’s all,” the captain said after a while. “Let’s get back to work, everyone.”
No, this wasn’t all. Why Ross chose to not disclose her secret, Ramya didn’t understand, but she did understand clearly what she wanted. Or what she didn’t want. Perhaps Ross was simply giving her a pass, but she didn’t, not even for a second, wanted him to turn her secret into a weapon against her. Besides, she trusted all of them enough. She had to tell them.
“I have something to say, Captain,” Ramya declared. “If I may,” she quickly added.
“Of course, Rami,” Captain Milos said.
Ross, along with Flux, Wiz, and Fenny, had already headed for the door. They turned around curiously. Ramya’s fists turned into balls, nails biting sharply into her palms, the pain grounding her flitting intentions. It was now or never.
“There’s something you need to know about me,” she blurted.
Wiz guffawed. “That you kicked that Mwandan forest spirit’s hind? Ross told us all about it.”
He did? Why? He wasn’t shy about his resentment toward her on the Stryker. He had even called her a Kiroff spy. Why praise her now?
“No, it’s not that,” Ramya said, shaking her head to push the distracting questions away. “When I came aboard, I didn’t tell you my real name. I couldn’t. I was running away from my home, my parents, my . . . my real identity. From everything I’ve ever known, actually.”
Sosa seemed remarkably calm, as if she had already known what Ramya was talking about. Wiz crossed his arms and frowned.
“You in some kind of trouble, Rami?” Flux asked.
“Maybe I am, but I don’t care. There’s far more to worry about,” Ramya said. She really didn’t care as much anymore. The fear of Trysten Kiroff catching her had sunk into some distant corner of her mind, and even though it surfaced from time to time, the instances were far from often.
“What’s your name anyway?” Wiz asked.
“Ramya. I’m Ramya Kiroff, daughter of Trysten Kiroff of House Kiroff,” Ramya said slowly and deliberately. A weight had lifted off her by the time she finished speaking.
“That’s iffin cool,” Flux said, chuckling. “A runaway heiress, fancy that.”
Wiz blinked a few times. “You’re nasty Kiroff’s daughter? Oh, wait, forget I said that, all right? I won’t again . . . I promise. I won’t call him names.”
“It’s all right, Wiz,” Ramya said. “It’s not like I’m going to report to him. I don’t hope to meet him anytime soon anyway.”
“Besides, Trysten Kiroff deserves every name we’ve ever called him,” Fenny said.
Fenny, Wiz, and Flux broke into an animated discussion about Trysten Kiroff’s many virtues, but Ross broke away from the group.
“That’s all, right?” he asked Ramya. “I’ve got a million diagnostics to run, so if you’re done, I’ll get going.”
He stepped out of the med-bay as soon as Ramya nodded. For a second Ramya stood there, thinking, and then she hurried after him. He was nearly ten paces away from the door when she rushed out.
“Ross,” she called. He stopped and turned around slowly. A small frown rippled on his forehead and his eyes were stony behind his eyeglasses. “Commander Ross,” she corrected herself quickly.
He shook his head. “You don’t need to call me that. What is it?”
“Why didn’t you tell them about me?” Ramya blurted. “You wanted to. It needed to be said.”
His face softened as he looked away at the far end of the corridor. “Because you deserved a second chance,” Ross said. He tucked a long strand of hair behind his ear before looking steadfastly into her eyes. “You’re not your father. You are Rami, a worthy crewmate I trust. I chose to remember that.”
“Thank you.” Ramya could barely manage to push those words out of her choking throat.
Ross gave her a curt nod. He turned to leave but then turned back. “You didn’t have to tell them. Why did you?”
Ramya didn’t have to think to find an answer for him. “They deserved to know. I care about them too.”
A grin broke the taut lines of his face. It made him look so much younger. “I know, Rami. I know.”
He hesitated for a second, then reached out to pat her shoulder. “Off to work,” he said before striding away.
Ramya watched him walk down the corridor, a silly, happy smile making her face stretch. Finally! She had made peace with Ross. The happiness and the relief were unexpected, and for a while it made her forget the precarious situation they were all in and the danger that was closing in on them from all sides.
14
LONG BEFORE THE Endeavor approached the space station for refueling and repairs, Captain Milos had assigned two teams: the first team Flux would lead to get the spares for repairs, and the other team would be led by Fenny to pick up provisions. Ramya was happy when she was asked to assist Fenny. Along with Fenny, she scoured the hold to check on food supplies and other sundries, making a list of things to acquire during the pit stop.
They were checking off the final—quite long—list in the mess hall when Fenny’s comm blinked.
“What now?” Fenny said grumpily. Wiz’s voice crackled with urgency as soon as she pressed the button.
“Fenny, course change coming up. Need you at the COM.”
Fenny sat up immediately. “What? Why?”
“They’ve tagged us, Fenny. We’ve been put on Space Command’s rogue ship list.”
Fenny dropped the paper she had been holding on the worn steel table and grabbed the sides of her forehead. “What?”
“What did you expect after the shit we pulled at Totori?”
Fenny closed her eyes and let out a long sigh. “So . . . we can’t go to Torsus-Mele? But we need the iffin repairs done before we start for the Fringe to meet Mifek.”
“You think the captain doesn’t know that?” Wiz chuckled, and Fenny rolled her eyes.
“So there’s another plan?” Ramya asked.
“Yes, kiddo. There is another plan. We’re going to Nebeca 21.”
Why Fenny slumped back in her seat and sighed exasperatedly, Ramya didn’t quite get, but she could assume Nebeca 21 wasn’t a place on top of Fenny’s “must visit” list.
“Guess we have to cloak up as well?” Fenny asked.
“Of course,” Wiz replied. “Can’t just walk into that den of rats with a wanted tag on our back.”
“Fun never stops. I’m on my way, Wiz,” Fenny said into the comm. After she’d slapped the comm off, Fenny looked up at Ramya.
“‘Cloak up’? What does that mean?” Ramya asked.
“We hide the identity of the ship. Give them false creds when we dock.”
Ramya frowned. She had never heard of that before, but she guessed it was a fairly common thing. “Cloaking is easy?”
Fenny shrugged. “Flux and I can pull it off quite well. Haven’t needed it much lately. But . . .” Fenny let her words trail off. She tapped the table and shook her head.
“Something else worrying you?” Ramya asked.
“Everything’s worrying me. Like a noose is getting tighter around our necks,” Fenny said. “Nebeca 21 is an iffin crap-hole. Octus Laurden the Sixth runs it. It’s like a nest of the shadiest people in the galaxy. Mercenaries, gangsters, traffickers, you name it, they’re swarming on Nebeca. But if the iffin Confederacy tagged us as rogue, that’s the only place we can get in and out of without being spotted right away.”
“We can carry weapons, right?” Most space stations in the galaxy did not allow visitors to carry arms, but Nebeca sounded lawless enough to have different rules.
“Yes, we can,” Fenny replied with a dour shake of her head. “But weapons only go so far, kid.”
On that uplifting note, Fenny left. Ramya sat with the final list of things they needed to acquire, hoping they’d all make it out of the s
pace station in one piece. Whatever she had heard so far, the prospect of visiting Nebeca 21 did not sound good . . . at all.
CAPTAIN MILOS WAS at the gate, hands on his hips and foot tapping as he watched the teams pack up. “Be careful out there. Get in and out as fast as you can.”
Ross stood with his back to the wall, also watching intently. Between Ross and the captain, Ahool bobbed back and forth. The young Mwandan had asked the captain permission to join one of the teams, but the captain had refused coldly. Azzi, one of the Mwandan engineers, was placed in Flux’s group and another Mwandan—a stout and gruff fellow named Rei—was coming with Ramya and Fenny. Since Mwandans were hardly seen outside of their sanctuaries and would attract instant attention, both Azzi and Rei were covered from head to foot in clothing to hide their Mwandan heritage. The captain didn’t want to send them out in the first place, but with so much that needed to be done in so little time, there was no other choice.
The captain stayed firm in his refusal to let Ahool venture out though. Ramya was sure it was because of his age. She had tried to explain that to the Mwandan boy, but not with much success. Ahool fretted and fumed and complained and . . . bobbed around.
With a final shake of her head at the fidgety Ahool, Ramya looked away. She pulled out her blaster and turned it back and forth to make sure it was all right. She patted her pocket to ensure the list was in place. She tugged at her visor, pulling it low to cover her face. She was ready when Fenny nodded at her.
Their team set out first, and Flux and Azzi followed in their heels. Ramya’s heart thudded like a war hammer on steroids, even more as they walked into the security area just outside the docks. Shabby-looking security screens lined the exit pathways, but they didn’t seem functional at all. The place was also remarkably empty. Ramya had been to quite a few space stations with her family. Most of them were in the prime sectors and most were gaudy affairs. People—security personnel mostly—thronged them. None was as deserted or as unkempt as this.
And then there were the massive paintings of an Octus. Ramya assumed it was Octus Laurden the Sixth, the owner of Nebeca 21. They were hung on every wall, hulking things that seemed to glare at anyone passing through the corridors. Laurden the Sixth was an impressive specimen of an Octus—his honey-colored eyes bulging out of his fiery orange shell, eight thick arms typical of a Crustoid spread out like a halo behind him. They could tear apart an enemy in a heartbeat. That glint of insanity in Laurden’s eyes and the cruel smirk that twisted his thick lips clearly corroborated that like every Octus before him, he too would enjoy the act of tearing someone to shreds.
The First Covenant (Dark Universe Series Book 2) Page 13
