Chapter Fifteen

"Engineering to Captain Kila."

"Go ahead, Chief, though I'm pretty sure I know what you're going to tell me," Kila called over the blatting alarms filling the bridge.

"Engines are nearing critical, Captain," Lokmi answered in an even voice. "I have two containments up to buffer the blast when they go, but it might not be enough to keep the ship in one piece."

Kila was glad he was taking reports from his officers in his earpiece. He'd been told the children had been taught the Kalquorian language. The teens were huddled in tight groups as the spyship shook under the enemy's barrage, but no one was reduced to hysterics. Just silent tears of fright as they hung onto each other and their stoic minders. If they heard how badly the ship was damaged, how close to the end it was after twenty minutes of relentless fighting, it might have been a different story.

"Don't bother with the buffers, Chief," he said. "There's no point, and we're closing in on the perfect place to finish this."

"Ah." A beat of silence, then his Imdiko clanmate spoke in a shockingly chipper voice. "Looks like you got your wish, my Nobek. You finally got to race your ship all out with my blessing."

The bridge lurched under Kila's feet. He braced himself and Piras against his computer podium as the children yelped and tumbled on each other. "Nothing beats making the last ride of the day count," he laughed.

"Give my compliments to your helmsmen for not crashing us into anyone at this pace."

"Thank you for everything, my Imdiko. Including forgiving me for fucking with your precious engines every chance I got."

"Who says I forgave you?" Lokmi chuckled. "Seven minutes until critical."

"That'll be about right."

"I'll see you on the other side, my Nobek." Then, because Lokmi was almost as reserved as a Nobek when it came to sentimentalities, he shocked Kila anew when he added, "I love you, you ridiculous speed freak. Chief Engineer signing off."

The com went quiet. His heart full, Kila murmured, "And I, you."

There were times it was acceptable for a Nobek to speak his heart, even if no one else could hear it.

He'd been tapping furiously on his computer the whole while, keeping track of the fight and the ship's violently failing life. He eyed the gauge displaying how close the engines were to overload and a beautiful big bang to add to the self-destruct sequence he'd set off, in which he'd direct the vessel to dump its plasma reserves in the mix.

His little spyship, its weaponry built more for defense than carrying the fight to its foes, had destroyed a score of GC warships on its way to destiny…a glorious count by anyone's standards. Now for the big finish.

As a section of the bridge's ceiling crashed inches behind Kila and Piras…neither reacted except to grip the captain's podium to stay upright as the bridge shuddered harder than before…Kila searched the flickering main vid. He noted a particularly large knot of enemy warships a few degrees starboard. They looked the right distance away to coincide with the engines' imminent violent end.

"Helm, head for the enemy cluster bearing twenty-three-point-seven degrees starboard," he called. "Put us right in the middle of them."

"Yes, Captain." Esren altered course, zigzagging them toward their final fate.

Kila noted the many human eyes trained his way, the youngling Earthers watching him for any sign of what was to come. He eased his trademark vicious leer to the most comforting version of a smile he could manage. He winked. "You've been brave, my young friends, showing true warrior spirit. Now we'll give them a surprise they won't believe."

Perhaps the Darks wouldn't believe it. They knew he had children on board and probably thought the Kalquorians' devotion to saving them, no doubt a weakness in the All's twisted hive mind, would keep Kila from doing what was necessary.

We have no hope anyway, he thought. Might as well make their deaths count for something.

He felt a twinge of guilt nonetheless as most of the younglings answered his smile, wink, and promise of vengeance with their own tremulous smiles and nods. They believed in him, and they were right to do so, but it was for the wrong reason…hope for another day of life, which was in reality finishing all too soon.

He tore his gaze from those youthful faces and tapped his com for one last goodbye. Hope answered.

"How much longer, my Nobek?"

"Almost done. How is everyone there?"

"Hanging on. Cheryl has them playing a game. Every time we're hit, the kids yell, ‘Boom, shake/feels like an earthquake/we're still here/we have no fear/we have the might/we'll win this fight.'"

Kila laughed and checked the engines. Three minutes to critical. The vid showed they were nearing their target. "That's quite the battle cry."

"I think it's an old football cheer, but it fits the occasion pretty well." As the ship bucked again, she said, "Listen!"

In the background, he could hear dozens of voices raised in the chant, Besral's thunderous bellow among the piping tones. Then shouts of laughter at the end. The children's bravery was the most beautiful, heartrending sound he'd ever heard.

"It'll be quick." Two minutes.

"Good." Hope sighed. "I love you, Kila. Thank you for nine wonderful years."

"Thank you, my Matara. I love you too." Thank the ancestors the Nobek code allowed him to speak such words to his woman. Throughout their relationship, Kila hadn't stinted in letting Hope know how he felt.

Because they'd said it all, there was nothing more to add. They clicked off.

One minute. They had entered the cluster of warships Kila intended to destroy. Blasts rang and rocked the spyship, triggering more alarms.

Kila drew a deep breath. "Computer, enact program Kila—"

Com Officer Veko shouted, "Receiving transmission from Kalquorian ships! Our backup is here!"

"Power the engines down to minimal! Engineering, get those containments up!"

At that moment, the spyship entered phase on the automatic fluctuating frequency Piras had programmed, giving Kila a view of at least fifty Kalquorian marauders swooping in view. The larger craft, heavily armed, began pummeling the GC warships.

Silence fell as the Galactic Council vessels ceased attacking Kila's spyship. It was so profound, he thought he'd gone deaf.

"Chief?" Kila's gauge for the engines still hovered dangerously high, the numbers flashing critical. Ease off, damn it.

"Power at minimal. We're creeping from imminent detonation to the caution zone, Captain." Lokmi reported on the public address instead of his private link just as Kila's readings steadied, then dropped. "Engines will be fine as long as we keep our speed to regulation."

"GC warships have moved away to engage the marauders, Captain. They aren't paying attention to us any longer. We're in no immediate danger," Jado added. His tone sounded peevish. No Nobek liked being discounted as a non-threat.

He was alone in that regard. A cheer went up from the crew and children. The Soames sisters burst into hysterical laughter and tears as they hugged each other and those youths closest to them.

Kila and Piras didn't join in the shouts. Piras sagged for the briefest instant against his Nobek's side, his expression filled by stunned relief. Kila's arm slid around his waist, pressed him closer for a moment, then let go.

Around them but at a safe distance, the marauders and warships fought viciously for survival. A quartet of marauders shot through the mayhem to surround the spyship.

Veko's grin could be heard in his voice emerging from his mop of hair. "Captain Nako is hailing us, Captain."

A laugh bubbled from Kila's gut. "Ah, that asshole will never let me hear the end of this. Oops, sorry about the language, kids, ladies. Put him on, Com Officer."

Dramok Nako's voice boomed hearty and happy through the bridge. "Captain Kila, our sensors indicate maintenance on your ship has fallen to a new low. You've let your old tub go since I last saw you. I might have to put you on report."

"I see you decided to be a real fleet captain and fight instead of guarding useless chunks of rock on the fringes of nowhere," Kila shot back.

"I drew the short straw and have to guard your useless chunk of a vessel instead. Allow us to escort you to the border where a transport for your guests waits. We'll pick up your fighters and shuttles along the way. You are a mess, however. Would you care for a tow?"

Lokmi's snarl interrupted, reminding Kila he was still tied into the public address. "Our ship will fly perfectly fine under her own power, sir."

"Indeed." Kila smirked at the air, as if Nako could see him. "Are you really going to let the rest mop up our leavings, Captain Nako? I know we didn't leave the marauders much, but surely you'd prefer to claim a taste of glory."

Nako's chuckle filled the air over the children's excited chatter. "I'll give you your due, Captain Kila. One ancient spyship taking out or damaging nearly a dozen better armed enemies deserves it. I bow to you and your crew, sir."

"Thank you, Captain. For the children's sake, we'll accept your offer of escort. With my very sincere gratitude."

Seconds later, the spyship and its accompanying marauder guards flew slowly from the battle, which had already significantly dwindled thanks to the Kalquorian vessels efficiently dispatching warship after warship.

* * * *

Kalquor

Betra stood among his clan, Resan's parents, and Nekis in the spaceport, watching Clan Seot walking to the shuttle waiting to take them home. Anrel and Nayun, traveling in the wake of their parents, turned often to wave regretful goodbyes. Ejia bounced enthusiastically on Larten's shoulders. Cifa and Seot balanced Evelyn and Jordan each in the crook of an arm, their other arms around Shalia's waist as she walked between them.

The holiday had come to an abrupt halt, thanks to an alert from the fleet for all personnel to return to their duty stations following a major incident in Galactic Council space. Several squadrons of Kalquorian marauders had annihilated Galactic Council warships that had attacked the Open Arms Orphanage. Clan Resan had just enough time to see off Clan Seot, then they'd rush to their transport.

Betra looked at the arms of Shalia's clanmates holding her and swallowed hard. It was impossible to miss the regard…the love…in the men's expressions as they gazed at her and laughed at something she said. With her face turned toward Seot, her lovely profile visible to Betra, he couldn't deny the love she had for them.

There was no room for Betra, except as a dear friend.

Nekis was right. Everything he'd wished for Shalia years ago, she'd gotten. Including the ability to move on from him and Oses. He understood she'd never change her mind and choose them over what she had: the life he'd wanted for her.

"I'm tired of doing this," he muttered to Oses, who stood at his side.

"Saying goodbye?"

"No. Saying goodbye means I got to say hello. That's a good thing. What I'm sick of is being reminded how deeply I love her, then having to let her go again."

"On our next visit, remember who you are instead. You're a wanderer, my Imdiko, incapable of sitting still in one place for more than a month. Even for her."

"And she deserves better than me."

"Not better. You're the best Imdiko she could have hoped for, other than your urge for endless exploration. What she deserves isn't better but different, thanks to who she is." His hand brushed Betra's. "Sadly, love doesn't cure all. It takes more than love for two people, not to mention a clan, for a relationship to work for everyone concerned."

"Was I too awful this time?"

Oses' lips curved in a slight smile. "It wasn't your worst. No harm done from what I saw."

Clan Seot had reached the hatch of the shuttle. They turned and waved. The children's piping voices chorused goodbyes.

Betra's chest squeezed tight as Shalia disappeared in the vessel. Gone again, returning to where she belonged. As he would.

Oses' arm lowered from waving to the group. "It's perfectly fine to love her. You just have to keep it to yourself, like a precious treasure."

"I'll try. I promise. I won't lose my head on the next visit. She has her life, and it's wonderful." Exactly what she deserved. He vowed he wouldn't stand in the way of it.

* * * *

Alpha Space Station

"The farm planet." Charity spoke through numb lips to Dramok Deram as they sat in a nondescript office. She had the idea he'd borrowed an unused space to break the news.

"We think Haven's the safest place for you right now."

He knew the decision made her unhappy. It was in his consoling tone and gentle expression. She did her utmost to hold anger and disappointment at bay. There were mercenaries who'd be coming for her thanks to the bounty put on her by Earthtique factions on Mercy and New Bethlehem.

All because I survived the Holy Leader. All because of Hope, Dad, and Clan Piras. And stupid Kalquor, for allowing asshole Copeland to live.

She swallowed her bitterness and reminded herself it was wrong to blame her family and Hope's clan for her current predicament. Kalquor as well. They'd saved her in so many respects.

"You'd think I'd be safer here, surrounded by Kalquorian fleet personnel." Her protest was weak. The decision had been made, and she'd do better to accept it and move on.

"You'd think so," Deram sighed. "The Darks and the rest of the galaxy realize you're here, though. We'll be able to smuggle you to Haven with no one the wiser."

"Until some cowpoke recognizes me and runs his mouth to his buddies in some redneck bar. Haven may be a bunch of hayseeds, but it has access to the news vids, you know."

"We'll alter your appearance. Different hairstyle, lenses to change the color of your eyes, maybe slight surgical alteration, which can easily be undone when this nonsense is finished. My Imdiko Hadlez is an extremely gifted surgeon where such is concerned, having been a medical officer on a spyship. Our crew had to avoid detection at all costs, so you'll be in good hands."

"Holy shit." She gaped at him. "What about Aunt Ruth and Uncle George? Are you giving them a big makeover too?"

Discomfort made Deram shift in the hover chair next to hers. "Charity…they're staying here. Their continued presence will give everyone the idea you haven't left, at least for a little while."

Her jaw dropped. "I'm off to Cow Patty Planet by myself?"

"You'll stay in the home of a clan who'll watch over you. You'll have to do chores on their farm to keep up appearances, but they understand you also need to continue your studies. It won't be horrible."

"Sure it won't." Charity fought off tears. She was an independent woman and all that shit, but to trade Aunt Ruth and Uncle George for total strangers? Her last vestiges of family since Dad and Hope had run off to save the galaxy?

"I'm sorry." He was. She could tell. It didn't matter. The situation hurt her heart.

What had happened to the orphanage in Galactic Council space told her how grim the situation had become. Devastated or not, Charity had no choice but to go along with the plan.

Put on those big girl panties, Nath. The only path out is through.

"I'll need boots. Tall boots to wade through Haven's oceans of cow shit," she said.

"They have horses, kestarsh, and ronka too. There's no safe place to put your feet. Maybe a snorkel?"

Deram wore a straight face, but only for a moment. He and Charity burst into laughter. He must have noticed the tears streaming down her cheeks even as she let the instant of hilarity intrude on her pity party, but he had the good sense to refrain from commenting on them.

* * * *

Earth II

"I'm coming home."

"Like hell you are," Toni croaked to the vid image of her sister. She sat on the edge of her bed and fought not to waver or fall exhausted on its surface.

"Yes. You sound terrible. You don't look so good either."

"Your best buddy Bryant has nurses and a doctor checking on me several times a day. You'd get in the way and sick to boot. We have enough people passing around cooties on this planet, so stay the hell on the station."

The virus had caught up to Toni. No doubt it had snagged her when she'd visited the clinic. Dark Death moved fast, and her trip through the sanitizer mere minutes after she'd been exposed to it hadn't been quick enough to save her from its ravages.

She swallowed the cough threatening to break loose. If she started the violent hacking the virus brought while Stacy looked on, her sibling might attempt to come to the planet no matter the consequences.

Toni had spoken to Kuran ahead of contacting Stacy, before she'd forced herself to put on a nice outfit, comb her hair, and slap on makeup to hide the black circles under her eyes and other ravages the virus had visited on her in the past two days. She'd given Stacy's Nobek sweetheart a good look at how sick she'd fallen…and she'd given him the full story of how bad it was likely to become. He'd vowed to keep the governor on Alpha and wished Toni his best. His grim countenance had told her he was fully aware wishes and hope were all she had left.

"I expect you to com twice a day to let me know how you're doing," Stacy insisted. "When you wake up and just before you go to bed."

"What if I have a sleepover? You want to inspect my constant parade of guests? Want a full report on my hot and heavy hijinks?" She grinned. Prophets, merely moving her mouth hurt at this point. She needed the conversation to be done.

"Jerk," Stacy sighed. "Just com, would you? I need to hear you're okay."

"All right. Don't get your panties in a twist." Toni hated lying in most cases, but she did so now. Stacy couldn't come to Earth II, no matter what. She said what she most needed to, couched in a flippant tone so Stacy wouldn't become suspicious. "Love you, mother hen."

"Love you too."

They clicked off in the nick of time. The cough that had been building tore loose, ripping from Toni's chest in harsh, wet barks. She curled on the bed to avoid pitching to the floor as the world grayed toward black.

Little by little, the coughing eased. The sunlit hues of Toni's surroundings returned. Thank the prophets she'd managed to speak to her mother the night prior. She done so as she'd realized the slide into severe illness was starting in earnest. Rosa was aware of everything…lying to her mom wasn't an option. She'd agreed Stacy should remain in the dark for a little while in order to keep her on Alpha and safe.

Toni eyed the medical mask on her nightstand wearily. As she reached for it, her com buzzed for attention.

Please, no. I can't pretend any more, Sis.

It wasn't Stacy's frequency, but it was a familiar one. Toni's heart lifted. She forced herself up to sitting and answered, audio only.

"Hey. Is this the hottest Imdiko in the universe? How's the holiday?"

"Toni?" Feru's voice sounded uncertain. "Is that you?"

"Yeah, I bought and installed new vocal cords. I always dreamed of singing bass. Do you like it?"

"You're sick. Is it the virus?"

"Yeah, I got a touch of it," she admitted. "I hear Kalquor is starting to pull ahead of theirs."

"They are. We were called back to the ship early, but it's because of the orphan situation, not RNF-16. How bad are you?"

Bless the man, he sounded worried for her. What could have been.

"I'm miserable, but there are some who'd tell you I'm no bundle of fun even when I'm fine. Don't worry about me. How's the rest of the clan?"

She closed her eyes and listened to him talk for a couple of minutes, simply enjoying the sound of his voice and the memory of the night she'd shared with his clan. One night, but what a night it had been.

"I have to go," she at last told him, feeling another cough revving up. "I'm overdue for an appointment, but it was wonderful to talk. Tell Imon and Wovir I said to take care out there."

"Will do. You do the same. I wish I was there to help you stay comfortable. I'll com tomorrow to see how you're holding up."

Then he was gone. Again, her mind spoke. What could have been.

She let the coughing spell come. This time, she did dissolve in the black. When she came to, she groped for the mask she'd been reaching for when Feru had commed. Her hands shook violently, making putting the mask on an ordeal. She managed, however, and lifted her com for the final act. She clicked it.

"Okay. I'm ready."

Her bedroom door hissed open. A moment later, she was surrounded by figures swathed in protective medical gear. They looked like old-fashioned deep-sea divers in their thick white suits and the breathing helmets feeding them virus-free air.

They removed the mask she'd taken such pains to put on. In its place, they strapped on an oxygen version. Then they loaded her on a hover stretcher and floated her to the second floor landing.

At the head of the steps, another white figure awaited. As she noted Ken Bryant's composed face behind his clear visor, Toni had to admit Stacy was right. He was an okay guy, even if he was somewhat anti-Kalquorian.

Faintness was returning. Toni wondered if she'd wake again when it took her.

As she drifted past Ken, the techs surrounding her carefully keeping the stretcher level as they began to descend the stairs, Toni croaked, "She's expecting me to com tonight."

"I'll handle Stacy. You concentrate on feeling better." His voice sounded hollow through the helmet's speaker.

Toni wanted to tell him it wasn't fair she was getting a hospital bed and resources ahead of so many other sick people, thanks to the accident of being the governor's sister. She wanted to tell him to give Clan Imon a final message: she wished they'd had more time. She wanted to beg him to vid com her every now and then while she was in the hospital, because she needed a familiar face…even someone who wasn't really a friend.

It was too much, and she was drifting off. She tried to hang on to see the sky outside in case it was her last glimpse. Darkness closed in on her before she reached the bottom of the stairs. She was unconscious when they floated her to the emergency shuttle waiting to take her to the hospital she might never leave alive.