by Cheree Alsop
Her muscles tensed. The General speared her with a look.
“Let me remind you of your crew members on the Kratos. At this time, we are allowing them to remain where they are. If you fight, we will bring them to trial as accessories to your actions. Do you want to see them tried for murder as well?”
Ice ran through Liora’s veins. She rose without another word.
“Liora, you don’t have to do this,” Devren protested.
He stood as well, but at another nod from the General, two Calypsans pushed him back into his seat.
“We’re not through, Captain,” the General said.
Liora didn’t want to leave him there, but the thought that fighting would bring the rest of the Kratos crew to answer for her crimes made her follow the Calypsans out the door. She was led down another hallway into a room where she was searched more thoroughly before being escorted into a bare room without so much as a bench. The door slid shut behind her. After pacing around the room so many times she lost track, Liora sunk to a crouch against the far wall.
She couldn’t stop thinking about the crew. The thought of them waiting sealed in the engine room without knowing what was going to happen was nearly unbearable. She wondered if Devren was alright. Her thoughts strayed back to the reassuring feeling of his hand in hers. It hadn’t felt awkward, and perhaps that was what surprised her so much. Instead, it had felt right, like his reassurance was something normal. It had felt the same way during their training session when they settled into a smooth rhythm of blocks and punches, winding around each other in a fierce dance, laughing, teasing.
Thoughts of Tariq rose to her mind. What would he say?
She countered the question with what would he say about what? They hadn’t done anything.
That was the truth. So Devren helped her work through the guilt she felt at Tariq’s death. She was there for him the same way. Yet she had left him alone in the General’s office. After the things Colonel Lefkin had done, even with the General’s promise that he would get the proper punishment for his crimes, she didn’t trust any member of the Coalition that wasn’t impaled on the knife she was so aware was gone from her sheath.
The door slid open and a man stepped inside. He waited for it to close again before he met her gaze.
“Liora Day?”
She looked him up and down. He carried his gun like a seasoned veteran, not a rookie who entered a room with the safety on planning to ready the weapon when the prisoner attacked instead of before. His finger rested beside the trigger, tapping quietly as though her lack of response bothered him.
“Are you Liora Day?”
There was something familiar about him. She couldn’t put her finger on whether it was his stance, his eyes, or the line of his jaw. Whatever it was, her instincts whispered that she should trust him.
“I’m Liora Day.”
Relief showed in his gaze. “Liora, come with me.”
She rose warily. “Where are we going?”
“To your ship,” he replied. “You and Devren need to get out of here.”
He put his hand to the panel beside the door and the door slid open. He checked both directions, then motioned for her to follow him.
She hesitated at the door. “Why are you doing this?” she asked.
“I’m a friend of Devren’s. He’s waiting for us outside the landing bay. He refused to go any further unless I came back for you.” He shrugged and gave a wry smile. “I can’t argue with that.”
Liora stared at him. The smile. It was Tariq’s smile.
She made herself ask, “Are you related to Tariq Donovan?”
He nodded, pushing his dark hair off his brow with the back of his hand. “I’m his father, why?”
Liora shook her head. She couldn’t find the words to speak.
“It’s clear,” Edron said. “Let’s go before the sweep comes back.”
Liora followed him up the hallway. Edron had beat Tariq, causing fractures and pain to the point that Devren’s parents had adopted him into their own home. Edron had disappeared shortly after that. It was all she knew about him. Tariq had seldom spoken of him. As much as Liora’s heart had gone out to the thought of a small boy raised under a heavy hand, she had grown up beneath Obruo’s staff of needles and various methods of torture designed to make her fail. She wondered why being raised Damaclan made that alright, when being raised human had turned such actions into cruelty.
She had lived a skewed version of a childhood. She knew that for certain. Yet she wondered at the expression on Edron’s face when she asked about Tariq. There was pride there, a slight smile. Despite all of Tariq’s hatred toward his father for the way he was raised, his father still loved him.
“How do you know Tariq?” Edron asked as they jogged down the next hallway.
Liora didn’t want to reply, yet the question hung in the air between them. “I met him on the Kratos.”
“Is he your friend?” Edron pressed. A glance at her tattoos said Tariq’s father knew of the circumstances around the murder of Tariq’s family.
“It took a while for us to warm up to each other,” Liora replied numbly.
“I can imagine,” Edron replied with a chuckle. “Tariq’s a hard egg to crack.”
Liora wanted to hit him. Yet his words slowed her. Edron spoke in present tense about his son. His questions were current, his expectations clear. The hardest part about losing Tariq, besides living every moment with a hole in her heart where her best friend had been, was telling Devren. Did she really have to do the same thing to Tariq’s father?
“Edron?”
The man glanced at her over his shoulder. “We’re almost there. Just stay close. We’ll find a gun or something so you can protect yourself while Devren and I check the hangar.”
He jogged a few steps further before he said, “Tariq must be aboard the Kratos. He’s a stubborn boy; he used to argue about the Coalition like it was the doom of humanity or something. I would have been surprised he joined except he was always dogging Devren’s coattails. I wonder if he changed his mind.”
“Tariq was killed.”
Edron’s steps slowed. He halted and looked back at her. “What did you say?”
“He died saving others,” Liora continued.
“Of course he did,” Edron replied. He turned away from her, his actions brusque. “Of course he did.”
He checked his gun, flipping the safety off and then back on, pulling out the clip and glancing at the bullets before shoving it back in.
With all of the actions, he never actually looked at his gun. His gaze was distant and his eyes clouded. Liora thought she might have seen a glimmer of tears. But it vanished in the next moment.
“Of course he did,” Edron said, his words stronger. He continued down the hallway. “Fool-headed, strong-willed, Coalition brat. That’s what he was.”
He spoke to himself, his tones low. Liora bristled at his words.
“Tariq Donovan was the best man to ever fly in this Macrocosm,” she said, her words clipped short. Edron stopped in his tracks and turned around. “You don’t deserve to say his name if you’re going to lie. Say another negative word about him and it’ll be your last.”
Four officers appeared at the corner behind Edron. Their eyes widened. Liora couldn’t let them sound the alarm.
She ran past Edron and pulled the knife from the sheath at his waist as she did so. She was about to cut two throats with one swipe when she remembered her promise to Shathryn just before dealing with Coalition officers the last time.
Stone, the Revolutionary Shathryn loved, had just been killed. With tears in her eyes, the woman with purple hair had begged Liora to avoid killing anyone if she could. The thought that other women would be left without their men was too much for Shathryn to bear. Liora had agreed. She couldn’t go back on that promise now.
Liora shoved the knife into the first man’s shoulder. Using the blade handle for leverage, she swung around him and kicked one of the other of
ficers in the back of the head so hard he slumped to the ground. She drove her elbow into the side of the first officer’s head twice and tore out the knife as he fell.
An officer raised his gun. Liora sliced his arm so that he dropped the weapon. She shoved the blade into his shoulder, ripped it out, spun it in her hand, and slammed the hilt across his jaw hard enough that he turned halfway around before falling to the ground.
The final officer had his gun all the way up. Liora ducked underneath it, punched twice full power at the man’s ribs beneath his arm, swung her right arm up, and forced the gun toward the ground before he could pull the trigger. She spun around, tearing the weapon from the man’s grip and coming full circle to aim the barrel at his head. Shock showed on his face. Liora gritted her teeth against the temptation to pull the trigger. Instead, she slammed the pistol into the side of his head and he fell to join his companions.
Edron spoke up behind her. “I’m not sure what to say right now.”
“Don’t say anything,” she replied.
Chapter 13
Liora shoved the gun into the waist of her uniform. She would rather fight with her knives, but given the fact that the gun was the only thing she had available, it would have to do. She held the knife out to Edron.
“Here.”
He raised both his hands. “You keep it. I think it would feel the inferiority of my skills if I took it back.”
Liora gave him a humorless look. “It’s a knife. It doesn’t have feelings.” She shoved the blade into her empty sheath and strode past him without glancing back.
She heard Edron hurry to catch up.
“Is there a reason you didn’t kill them?” he asked. “I thought for sure you would.” When she didn’t answer, he continued with, “I never thought I’d see a Damaclan fight in real life. You hear rumors, but nothing like that. They didn’t even have a chance to call for backup. It was incredible.”
Liora ignored him.
Edron let out a breath. “Look. You obviously knew my son. I’m sorry about any offense I caused. You just took me by surprise.” He paused, then said, “I had apologies to make. They wouldn’t make up for the way I was to him, but I wanted to let him know I regretted the things I did.” His words were quieter when he said, “I’m sorry to hear he’ll never know.”
Liora wasn’t sure what a father needed when it came to comfort. Consoling someone in the face of losing a loved one wasn’t one of her strengths, especially considering she was often the one causing the death.
“He was the best man I’ve ever known.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Liora saw him wipe his cheeks. A slight, wry smile touched his lips that reminded her too much of Tariq. “Coming from you, that means a great deal.”
Liora didn’t reply. She was relieved when she saw Devren standing at the doorway to the hangar. The Kratos waited beyond the glass. She could make out the forms of Hyrin and Straham standing on the loading ramp.
“Where are the Coalition officers?” she asked when they reached Devren.
“Edron took care of them,” Devren replied.
“With what army?” Liora asked, amazed. The number of Coalition members who had surrounded their ship when they were escorted to General Stratus made her Cherum army look puny.
“Just me,” Edron replied. He waited as though he wanted her to ask for more information. When she didn’t give in, he explained, “It helps that I’m the colonel pressing charges against Colonel Lefkin. Besides General Stratus, I’m the highest ranking official aboard this ship.”
Liora stared at him. “I just took down four of your men.”
“You didn’t give me a chance to order them to stand down,” Edron replied. “I’m just glad you decided not to kill them.”
“You didn’t kill them?” Devren repeated. A light came to his eyes as though he just realized something. “Don’t tell me you’re still holding up your promise to Shathryn. It’s going to get you slaughtered.”
“I killed plenty on the Cherum planet,” Liora shot back with a bad taste in her mouth. “Maybe letting a few live won’t make a difference.”
“It did to them,” Edron said.
Devren led the way to the ship. He glanced at Liora when they reached the ramp. “Here, before I forget.” He held out Liora’s knives.
She took them, grateful to have them back.
“Let’s get out of here,” he told Hyrin.
“Gladly, Captain,” Hyrin replied with a relieved nod. He disappeared inside with Straham close behind.
Devren turned back to Edron.
“Thank you again for getting us out of there. Your timing couldn’t have been better.”
They shook hands.
“Stop them!” the command rang out across the landing bay. They heard officers enter the hangar at the far end hidden from view behind the Kratos.
“Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” Devren asked. “You put your neck out for us.”
“I’ll be fine,” Edron replied. “It’s my word against those I outrank that you escaped with a blade to my throat.”
Edron held out a hand. Liora placed the knife in it. He wiped the blade on his sleeve before he drew it along the side of his neck. Blood welled up from the shallow wound.
“We have a lot to talk about,” Devren said.
Edron tried to smile, but failed. “I heard about Tariq.”
Devren looked at Liora, then back to Edron. She knew he wondered how much she had told Tariq’s father.
The sound of officers running toward them echoed in the landing bay.
“Another time,” Edron said.
Devren nodded. “Another time. Take care of yourself.”
“You, too,” Edron replied.
Devren and Liora hurried up the ramp.
“Devren?”
The Captain of the S.S. Kratos turned.
“Thank you,” Edron said, his tone heartfelt.
Devren nodded. “Tariq was my brother through and through. I don’t have any regrets.”
“I do,” Edron said. “But that’s on my head. Get out of here. I’ll cover for you.”
“Swarm the ship!” a voice yelled.
Devren put his hand to the panel and the door shut. They could hear officers arguing beyond.
“Captain?” Hyrin’s voice called over the intercom.
“Get us out of here,” Devren ordered. “The Colonel promised us a straight shot.”
“Will do,” Hyrin replied.
They felt the ship rise and the sounds of voices faded.
Devren leaned against the wall as if exhausted by all that had happened.
“I didn’t expect that.”
“Did you know Tariq’s father was a Coalition colonel?” Liora asked.
Devren shook his head. “I heard a few rumors.” He slid down the wall to sit on the floor. “Tariq always laughed them off. Neither of us really thought his father would ever join the Coalition. The man was always against organizations like that. He used to tell Tariq he was stupid for wanting to follow me into it.”
He fell silent, his hands on his knees and his gaze on something Liora couldn’t see.
She didn’t know whether to leave him to his thoughts or stay and comfort him; such things went far beyond the scope of her social understanding. She took a step toward the door when his voice stopped her.
“Can I show you a memory?”
The request was something Liora had never expected. She turned slowly.
“Are you sure?”
Devren nodded. “I trust you.”
There was something to the statement. It sounded final, unwavering. It struck Liora deeply.
She sank down near him, settling onto her knees. She opened her hand, but for some reason couldn’t bring herself to reach for his.
“It’s, well, easier if I hold your hand,” she said. She felt embarrassed, but couldn’t explain why. She lowered her gaze. “It helps the connection.”
His hand slipped into hers.
Liora closed her eyes at the feeling of his touch. She couldn’t help the memories of another hand that flooded her mind.
“Liora, are you okay?”
“Yes,” she replied.
She pushed the memories away and found her center of calm.
It took a tentative pull to gauge the strength of the memory. She felt Devren’s fingers twitch in hers in surprise. She gave him a moment to get used to the sensation, then pulled again. The memory flooded her mind with a power that surprised her. It was important to Devren, something he had remembered often. As much as she feared the emotions that pressed against her, she wanted to know what meant so much to him. She lowered the walls she had placed around her heart to protect whatever was left after losing Tariq. With a shaky breath, she let the memory wash over her.
She saw Devren as if she watched him from a few feet away. He was young, probably around seven, but his dark brown hair and laughing brown eyes were unmistakable. He held a string, teasing a little furry creature that batted at it.
A strangled shout sounded.
Devren was immediately on his feet and running. His heart pounded in his chest, not from the exertion, but because he knew what was happening. It was occurring too frequently as of late, and getting worse. If he didn’t get there in time, he didn’t know how far it would go.
He cleared the edge of the forest that separated the two houses and paused. Edron was there in the front yard, his face twisted in rage. He held a huge stick in one hand; the hoe that was supposed to be on the end lay discarded near the door. The man stumbled slightly, then righted himself. Four bottles of the ale the man usually drank lay discarded around the front porch, three more than his usual afternoon session. Devren’s father said that Temla’s brew was hard stuff. Devren wondered who had given the man so much when he didn’t have the money to pay for it.
Tariq was at Edron’s feet. He lay curled around his arm, holding it close. A sob made his body shudder.
Edron brought the stick down and Devren heard the sharp thud. Tariq cried out.
“Leave him alone!” Devren shouted. His small voice rang out as he darted across the space that was left and threw his body over Tariq’s.
