Dark Space- The Complete Series

by Jasper T. Scott

  Ethan smiled and shook his head. “I can’t believe you survived.”

  “Yes, I lived. You can thank Hoff for that.”

  “Hoff . . .” Ethan trailed off uncertainly and shot the admiral a quick glance. Turning back to Destra, he shook his head. “This isn’t exactly what I pictured when I dreamed of seeing you again.”

  “What’s going on, Mommy?” Atta asked.

  “Go back inside, dear. Go to your room and play with your toys.”

  “Okay . . .”

  When Atta was safely out of earshot, Destra turned back to Ethan and asked, “What are you doing here? I left you to move on with Alara. I gave you your space. Why couldn’t you give me mine?”

  Ethan’s brow furrowed. “How do you know Alara?”

  “We never met, Ethan, if that’s what you’re wondering. I went looking for you, and—” She broke off and swallowed thickly. “—and Atton. I guess you thought you’d never see me again. Or you assumed that I’d died. I’m not blaming you for anything, but what are you doing here now? And where is Alara?”

  “What are you talking about? Alara is my copilot, Des! Or she was before Brondi got hold of her. She and I are friends, nothing more.”

  “You expect me to believe that?”

  “Yes.”

  Destra saw Ethan’s lips trembling and his muscles starting to shake, as if he were about to explode.

  “Well, this is a happy reunion,” Hoff interrupted. “We should go inside. You both look like you need to sit down.”

  The admiral gave Ethan a not-so-gentle push, and Destra stepped aside to let them in. She shut the door behind them and then turned to see Ethan frozen just inside the entrance, his eyes flicking around the clean, modern living space. Destra looked around the room with him, seeing it through his eyes, as if for the first time. The soft, gold lighting, shiny white walls, dark ceiling with gold crown moldings, and polished silver floors were all opulent enough, but the size of the space was what really spoke of the admiral’s wealth. Simple furniture and plush black area rugs left plenty of open space and only added to the open, airy feel. To one side lay a wall of windows looking out on a leafy green garden and wide synthstone terrace.

  Hoff pointed to a dark red couch and matching pair of chairs sitting opposite a large holoscreen. “Let’s sit.”

  Ethan walked woodenly to the living room and sat down in one of the chairs. Destra felt Hoff take her by the hand and lead her to the couch. They sat down together. Ethan’s gaze found their clasped hands, and he stared unblinkingly at them. Destra saw the hate burning in his green eyes, and she squeezed Hoff’s hand to remind him whose side she was on. She noted the stun cords binding Ethan’s own hands and she frowned.

  Heston sighed. “Now, Ethan, if I’m not misunderstanding you, you’re saying that you had no idea your wife was still alive.” When Ethan didn’t reply, Heston went on, “She assumed you had moved on with your copilot, Alara, but you insist that she’s just a friend. Is that correct?”

  Ethan nodded, his jaw clenching and unclenching like a fist. He looked away from their clasped hands and turned to look around the room, his gaze tracing the gold moldings along the ceiling, as if to find their source.

  “It would appear that you may have been mistaken about your previous husband, darling,” Hoff said.

  “Maybe,” Destra replied, “but I’m not mistaken about who or what he is. What is it this time, Ethan?”

  Heston answered for him, “High treason and holoskinning.”

  Destra’s eyes widened. “I underestimated you. You have changed. You’ve gotten worse!”

  Ethan’s eyes flashed and he turned back to her. “You don’t get it.”

  “I’m sure you can explain it to me. You always have a good explanation, don’t you? How about you start with what happened to our son? Did you even find him before he died?”

  “Destra . . .” Hoff began, squeezing her hand, but she wasn’t paying any attention to him.

  Ethan let out a long breath before quietly saying, “He didn’t die, Destra.”

  Destra blinked and shook her head.

  “Ethan’s right,” Heston added. “Your son is standing trial right alongside his father.”

  Tears beaded on her long lashes and then fell to her cheeks. “I saw the records myself. He died in a shuttle crash.”

  “No, Des, he didn’t,” Ethan said. “He faked his death so he could take over for his adoptive father, the previous overlord, when he died.”

  Hoff inclined his head with interest. “So that’s how this all started. . . .”

  Ethan met the admiral’s gaze. “The previous overlord was also a ‘skinner. I don’t know how long that’s been going on.”

  Heston snorted. “An unlikely story.”

  “The good ones always are.”

  “Take me to him,” Destra said, already rising from the couch. “I want to see my son.”

  Heston shook his head and grabbed her wrist to stop her. “No, darling. We need to be more discrete. I’ll have him brought here.” He stood up from the couch and Destra saw him look from Ethan to her and back again. “Meanwhile, I suspect you two have a lot of catching up to do.”

  Destra saw her husband walk into the dining room and put a comm call through to one of his subordinates. She noticed in her periphery vision that Ethan was staring at her and she turned back to him. He looked furious.

  “Ten years I waited for you, Destra! You couldn’t do the same for me? You didn’t even wait half that time. Atta is already seven!”

  Destra felt a stab of guilt and she shook her head quickly. “I told you. I thought you’d moved on. You can’t blame me! This is your own fault. If you hadn’t gotten caught—”

  “My fault?” Ethan boomed. “You’re incredible! I did what I had to, to provide for my family! You’re holding that against me now? I did it for us, Destra!”

  “Yes,” she said, “and look at where it got us.”

  “Des . . .” Ethan whispered. “It’s not too late.”

  “But it is. It’s long past too late. I don’t know what you and your copilot had—”

  “Nothing! For frek’s sake, I already told you that!”

  She sniffled and smiled sadly at him. “Then maybe it’s time you did something about that. There’s no going back to the way we were. My life is with Hoff now. You weren’t there when I needed you, and Hoff was.”

  Ethan shook his head. “This can’t be how it ends.”

  Destra smiled, her blue eyes shining with sympathy and pain. She reached out and squeezed his arm. “Don’t look at it as the end. This is a chance for a new beginning—for both of us. The galaxy where we fell in love and built our life together is gone. We’ll never get things back the way they were. It’s time for you to move on, Ethan.”

  * * *

  Alara sat on a bench in front of the concourse viewports outside the trial room. She gazed down on the dark surface of Ritan below. It was like a living thing, with glowing, blood-red veins of magma disappearing into dark, glittering fields of ice. To say that the exoplanet was inhospitable would be an understatement, but apparently the Gors loved it. Said it reminded them of home.

  Home. Alara couldn’t remember hers—not her real home, anyway. She remembered very little of her past life . . . only Ethan. She frowned as her thoughts turned to him. He’d been mysteriously saved at the last minute when the admiral had intervened on his behalf.

  As for her father, Doctor Kurlin, she couldn’t remember any connection to him, and she couldn’t feel any more sympathy for him than she would for a complete stranger. She had a bad feeling that if her slave chip were ever disabled, she would be devastated to find out that he had died from a mind probe or been executed for his crimes. Alara’s eyes skipped to her mother—yet another person she couldn’t remember. Darla Vastra stood by herself to one side of the concourse, looking old and frail. She had insisted on being allowed to watch the trial. Alara didn’t know how Darla could bear it, but when she thoug
ht about Ethan, she thought she understood. When you love someone, you want to be with them no matter how much it hurts. Not that she’d had to ask to watch the trial. She and all the others from the Defiant had no choice in the matter. They had all seen and interacted with the imposter overlord in some way, which made them either accessory to his crimes, or witnesses to them.

  Alara felt someone bump into her shoulder. “You all right?” It was Gina. The two of them had formed a tentative bond during their time sharing quarters on the Defiant and then later while piloting the Rescue together.

  “No, I’m not,” Alara said. “The whole thing is confusing—and hard to watch.”

  “I know, but at least you don’t remember he was your father. That’s got to make it easier.”

  Alara nodded and went back to staring at Ritan. She hadn’t been talking about Doctor Kurlin. Gina didn’t know who the imposter overlord was to her. No one knew that. Not yet, anyway. She wondered if their past relationship would cast even more suspicion on her and eventually land her in one of those probe chairs, too.

  She wasn’t sure she cared. What did she have to live for? The more she found out about her past life, the less she wanted to go back to living it, and her new life was a sham. She wasn’t a nova pilot; she was a pleasure palace playgirl named Angel. Kiddie, the nova pilot, was her defense mechanism, hastily sewn together from the loose threads of Angel and Alara. She’d just barely been hanging onto those threads when she’d found Ethan in the brig aboard the Defiant. That had sent her spiraling back toward the abyss of uncertainty and self-doubt that she’d so recently crawled out of. He was the only thing she could remember clearly from her past life, and she was about to lose him, too.

  “It’ll be all right, Kiddie,” Gina said. “Most people survive the probe.”

  “Yes,” Alara agreed, “but they don’t survive being thrown out an airlock.”

  “Maybe he’s not guilty of anything deserving death. If he really was coerced, maybe he’ll be found innocent.”

  “Maybe,” Alara said.

  They were interrupted by the sound of doors swishing open behind them. Both of them turned to see the trial room open and Captain Adan Reese come striding out, escorted by a pair of sentinels. Adan caught Alara’s eye and nodded to her. Alara stared blankly back. “What are they bringing him out for?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” Gina said. “Maybe he needs the bathroom.”

  “That’s a strange last request.”

  “Think it would work for us to get out of these?” Gina raised her hands, still bound at the wrists with stun cords.

  “Worth a shot.”

  Gina called to the nearest guard, “Hoi, Corporal! I’ve got to go piss!” The guard started toward them with a frown, and Gina sent Alara a sly smile. “Kavaar!” she whispered. “It worked.”

  Alara smiled wanly back, but Gina’s fooling around had done nothing to lift her spirits.

  * * *

  Destra stood staring at the man who’d been marched up to her and she shook her head. “Is this some kind of joke, Ethan?”

  “It’s no joke.”

  “What’s wrong?” Heston asked.

  “This isn’t my son!”

  The imposter stood before them, his hands bound by stun cords. Until now his brow had been curiously furrowed up to his bristly blond hair, but suddenly he seemed to realize who she was, and he took a quick step back as if someone had slapped him.

  “Mom?”

  “Don’t you dare call me Mom! I don’t know who you are, but you’re not my Atton! You don’t look a thing like him!”

  Ethan gave a small, sad smile and said, “Atton, turn off your holoskin.”

  The imposter’s features shimmered and the bristly blond hair and blue eyes of Captain Adan Reese were replaced by Atton’s dark, straight hair and green eyes. He looked like a young version of Ethan, but he had his mother’s button nose and narrow face.

  Destra’s jaw dropped.

  Atton smiled and took a hesitant step forward. “It’s me, Mom, see?” He grinned from ear to ear and shook his head. “I can’t believe it!”

  Heston blinked. “Neither can I. Two holoskinners in one day. Like father like son apparently.”

  “Atton!” Destra leapt forward and enclosed him in a fierce hug. Ethan and Hoff looked on. “I can’t believe it. I never imagined . . . oh, Atton! I thought you were dead!”

  “Likewise,” Atton replied, sounding almost as choked up as her.

  Ethan gave a long, shaky sigh and turned to the admiral. “What are you going to do with us?”

  “Well, I can’t have you tried for your crimes, and I can’t let you go, so you tell me.”

  “Maybe it will help if you let us explain our side of things.”

  “I’m listening.”

  Destra let go of Atton and turned to the admiral. “Get them out of these stun cords, Hoff. Whatever their crimes, they’re not dangerous.”

  The admiral held her gaze for a long moment before he nodded and reached into his pocket for the electronic key. He pointed the key at Atton’s wrists first. The red light on the stun cords turned green and they fell to the floor. Then Hoff turned and did the same for Ethan.

  Atton looked from Hoff to his mother and back again with eyebrows raised. Then Hoff walked up behind Destra and put a hand on her shoulder, ending Atton’s silent debate. “You two are . . .”

  “Married,” Destra finished for him.

  Hoff held out his hand for shaking. “I suppose that makes you my stepson.”

  Atton gaped at them and shook his head.

  “Would you like to meet your sister?” Destra asked.

  “My sister?” Atton echoed.

  “I know this is a lot to take in, Atton,” Destra said, reaching for his arm. “But whatever your circumstances at the moment, we should set them aside for now. This is a time to celebrate!” Atton turned to her with a blank look, and she went on, “You’re back! You’re alive! Aren’t you happy to see your mother again?”

  “I . . .” Atton trailed off. Joy, shock, and anger warred for expression on his face.

  Destra wiped away a final tear. “Let me go tell Atta. I can’t imagine giving her a better birthday present than this.” With that, Destra turned and walked toward a dark hallway which led away from the living room.

  “Atta . . .” Atton whispered.

  “Can I get you two a drink?” Heston asked.

  “Beer,” Ethan managed.

  “I’ll have the same,” Atton added.

  “Of course,” the admiral replied, and headed toward a bar counter which stood to one side of the living room. Atton walked over to his father and sat down on the couch. “Frek, Dad,” Atton whispered. “Hoff . . . Atta—she replaced us!”

  “Shhh,” Ethan whispered back. “Now’s not the time.”

  Hoff watched them from the bar with cold, seething gray eyes, and Ethan read into that look that if it were up to him, he would have dumped them both out the nearest air lock as soon as he’d found them.

  Ethan met that look with equal fury, but his anger was fast cooling into shock, leaving a numb sense of defeat in its wake. There was nothing left for him to fight for. Here Hoff was, living the life he should have had. Atton was right, they’d been replaced. All those years spent waiting for his wife, and she hadn’t waited for him. He should have felt jealous, but instead he just felt stupid. Now, he finally understood that Alara had been right: Destra would have wanted him to move on, but it was too late. Alara barely remembered him now, and the friction-filled relationship they’d had as pilot and copilot was as long gone as the beaten up freighter they’d flown.

  Ethan had missed his chance for a fresh start, but Destra had seized hers the second it had come along. Atta was seven years old. He and Destra had been apart for ten. That meant she’d waited less than three years.

  Three . . .

  In his mind’s eye Ethan saw the three of them—Atton, himself, and Destra all lying on a couch in fron
t of their fireplace to keep warm one wintry night on Roka IV. Outside, the wind whistled ferociously, driving snow against the windows. Atton crawled over them under the blankets, trying to get comfortable.

  Suddenly, Tibby’s furry head popped out of the blankets, followed by a childish roar.

  Ethan feigned shock, yelling out, “Ahh! Don’t eat me, Tibby!”

  Atton giggled and popped up behind his stuffed diger. “Scared you!”

  “Thank the Immortals you’re here, Atton!” Destra said. “Tell Tibby not to eat us!”

  “No, he’s going to eat you both! Rarr!”

  “Oh, no!” Destra replied. “But then you won’t have any parents. Who will look after you?”

  “Tibby and me can look after ourselves!”

  Ethan frowned. “That’s not nice, Atton.”

  “Sit properly,” Destra added.

  Atton was quiet for a long minute, and then they heard a small voice say, “Tibby didn’t mean it. He just wanted to scare you.”

  “Mmm,” Destra replied, not sounding convinced. “And what about you?”

  “I didn’t mean it either.”

  “You know, Atton,” Ethan began, “we just have the three of us in this galaxy. We have to stick together and look after each other.”

  “What about Tibby?” Atton replied.

  “The three of us and Tibby,” Destra said, smiling at him and tousling his hair. “And speaking of you and Tibby, aren’t you both supposed to be in bed?”

  “No.” Atton shook his head.

  “Why not?”

  “Dad said we have to look after each other, so we’re not leaving you alone, are we Tibby? No, he says we have to protect you from the snow monsters.”

  Ethan shook himself out of the memory. His eyes found Hoff’s as the admiral walked over from the bar with a frosty mug of beer in each hand. He handed one to each of them and then went back to the bar to fix a drink for himself.

  Ethan held his mug up to the light and gazed absently into the golden depths of the beer, fizz rising endlessly from the bottom of the frosted mug. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his son turn to him.

  “I don’t understand,” the boy whispered. “I’ve met the admiral on countless occasions. I knew he was married, but . . . I just can’t believe Mom was so close and I never found her! How is that possible?”