Alsea Rising: The Seventh Star (Chronicles of Alsea Book 10)

by Fletcher DeLancey

  “Make your point, Director.”

  “My point is that you can’t toss her aside the way you did Captain Serrado. Not without significant political repercussions. On my end, I have a very angry Fleet admiral pressing charges and demanding prosecution to the fullest extent of the law. The only reason Sayana isn’t in the brig is that we’d have to push her bed in there.” He steepled his fingers and gave her a small, triumphant smile. “So it seems you and I have something to negotiate after all.”

  25

  Aftereffects

  Ekatya opened her eyes to a light so blinding that it set off explosions in her skull.

  She curled into a tighter ball, hands pressed to her head in an effort to mitigate the pain, and hissed out a ragged breath.

  Pressure did not help. Letting go did not help. Controlling her breathing did not help, but counting breaths focused a small part of her mind away from the white-hot agony.

  She had counted eighteen when a door opened.

  Any distraction was good. She concentrated on the sound of the door closing and soft footsteps coming toward her.

  “Dammit,” someone whispered. “I was afraid of this. Ekatya, it’s Alejandra. Can you hear me?”

  Nodding was out of the question. She lifted a single finger and hoped it would be enough.

  “I need to put you in the scanner. We couldn’t do it until you were awake. Just hold on, all right?”

  As if she had any choice.

  She didn’t remember the door opening again, but it must have, because multiple voices surrounded her. They spoke in low tones as her bed moved and the light changed and her bed moved again.

  That her brain was not operating at its normal capacity became obvious when she found herself lying in the scanner without any memory of being lifted into it. Machinery hummed, Alejandra quietly gave orders, and this time she was aware of being transferred back into sheets that still held her body heat.

  Too warm, she wanted to tell them. She craved something cold on her skin.

  Her bed moved, the lights brightening and fading, and a door closed.

  When cool metal touched her throat, she welcomed it as a relief from the heat. Only when she heard the hiss did she realize it was an injector.

  “You should start to feel better soon,” Alejandra said. “In the meantime, I’m going to try a different treatment.”

  Gentle fingers slid into her hair.

  Her rigid muscles began to unlock one by one, pushing a groan of relief from her throat.

  An exhale sounded above her. “Good. Relax, Ekatya. You’re safe and you’re not alone.” Alejandra continued the scalp massage, using the lightest of touches, and Ekatya’s body sank into the sheets.

  The touch trailed over her forehead, along one side of her face, and down the length of her throat. It stopped briefly, then reappeared on her forehead and moved down the opposite side.

  Ekatya lost all track of time, her world consisting solely of these touches and the pain they were steadily pushing away. Unfortunately, the gradual relief in her head allowed a new pain to surface: the ache in her chest, which felt as if a dokker had kicked her. Twice.

  She pressed the heel of her hand against her sternum.

  “She’s stiffening up again,” Alejandra said. “I’ve gotten her as far as I can. Try it now.”

  Try what? she wondered.

  “Hello, tyrina.”

  Her eyes snapped open. “Lhyn,” she croaked.

  Lhyn crouched beside the bed, putting their heads on the same level. “Welcome back. I missed you.”

  Her heavy-lidded eyes and the telltale lines around her mouth spoke of insufficient rest, but her smile was beautiful.

  “Are you here?”

  “Not physically. Alejandra is acting as my proxy for the moment. I’ve got her on the com and you in front of me. And about time, too. This was my third attempt.”

  Unthinkingly, Ekatya caught the fingers trailing down the side of her face and held them against her cheek. “My body knows. That you’re not here. Feels like we’ve been apart for months.”

  “As if Micah took a running start and landed on your chest with both feet?”

  She nodded, opening her hand. The comforting caresses resumed.

  “Healer Wellernal says it’s because we exhausted all of our reserves and had nothing left to combat the separation pain. Plus, the physical repercussions are bigger because the link was so intense. Andira and Salomen are perfectly fine. I’m a lot better now that I’m seeing you.”

  “You’re gorgeous.”

  Lhyn’s eyes crinkled. “You’re a little high on drugs.”

  “Doesn’t change the facts.” Her voice, raspy to begin with, was failing.

  A water flask appeared in front of her, and she gratefully sucked up as much as it allowed. “How long?” she asked.

  “Forty-six hours.” Alejandra took back the flask and checked the diagnostic band on her wrist. “I had to run an IV line for hydration. You had all of us concerned.”

  “Especially Salomen,” Lhyn said. “She feels terrible that it’s been so much harder on you.”

  “She knew. She said it before we lost the link. That you three would be there and I’d be here.”

  Lhyn held out her hand.

  As Ekatya reached for it, another, smaller hand moved into the same space as Lhyn’s. She grasped it tightly, part of her knowing it wasn’t the right one but the rest of her craving the contact. “I guess we need the foursome link to be able to touch each other.”

  “Salomen offered. We wouldn’t let her. Neither would Healer Wellernal.”

  “I wouldn’t either, if she were in my care,” Alejandra interjected.

  “When you get back here, I might not let you go for a day or two. Just giving you advance warning so you can prepare.”

  “Sounds like paradise.” She squeezed the hand in hers. “Why did it hurt so much?”

  “You were an outlet for a kind of power I can’t even measure,” Alejandra said. “It caused a massive disruption in both your brain chemistry and your neural activity. I did what I could while you slept, but we needed you to be awake to determine the exact treatment necessary.”

  “The injection?”

  “Mm-hm. There’s only so much I can do with chemistry, though. Natural healing is always best. You needed Lhyn. You’d have been much better off if we could have gotten you to Blacksun.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Don’t ask,” Lhyn said. “You’ll set off her temper.”

  Carefully, she rolled onto her back, still clutching Alejandra’s hand. One look at the thundercloud on her face and she knew. “Greve. He relieved me of command, didn’t he?”

  The thundercloud darkened. “And confined you to the ship pending an investigation into whether you coordinated with Tal and Rahel to usurp his command. He also thinks you faked your performance as Fahla.”

  “Not that there are any regulations against that,” Lhyn added. “I checked.”

  “How can he think that when our security cams recorded everything? I could understand if all we had was the broadcast, but . . .” She trailed off, frowning at their expressions. “What?”

  “Funny thing about that.” Alejandra gently pulled her hand free and resumed her treatment. “There’s no security footage.”

  Perhaps something had rattled loose in her fevered brain.

  “I’m not kidding. Greve told me, at high decibel levels and with unnecessary adjectives, that the bridge security record cut out right after you recalled our fighters to defend against the bioforce missiles. It didn’t resume until you left the bridge.”

  “The lift? Here?”

  She shook her head. “Everywhere you went, the cams stopped recording. There’s no record of Rahel’s healing. All my staff who saw it will swear to it, but Greve is paranoid enough to think there’s a conspiracy and stupid enough to think I could or would fake her medical records.”

  “Not to mention faking yours,” Lhyn sa
id. “His current theory is that you sedated yourself.”

  “Right. That’s my standard procedure immediately after a battle, when five captured ships are sitting off my bow.”

  Lhyn smiled. “Sarcasm means you’re feeling better.”

  She was. Between Lhyn’s presence and Alejandra’s touch therapy, the pain had receded to the point where she could begin to think straight.

  “If he thinks you faked medical records, why are you still on duty?”

  “He has zero proof, for one thing. I suspect he only has enough pull with Fleet to remove you from command. Removing me as well would raise more eyebrows.”

  “Not to mention that he’s terrified of her,” Lhyn said.

  “He should be,” Alejandra growled. “Asshead.”

  “When did the surgery bay cams come back on?”

  “The moment you passed out. The irregularities were enough for him to override my medical order sending you to the Blacksun healing center. I filed an objection, but it didn’t have much weight when my order was based on a concept Fleet Medical doesn’t recognize.”

  “Don’t worry, Ekatya. We’ll get you out of there. Rahel, too. Andira is negotiating with Sholokhov. She won’t share the details, but it must be big. She’s been talking to the High Council.”

  “And she’s already gotten one concession,” Alejandra said. “Greve can’t haul you in for questioning or debriefing or whatever he’d try to call it. Rahel is exempted, too. He can investigate to his black heart’s content, but only around the edges.”

  Ekatya sighed as the gentle massage moved to her scalp. “No wonder this works so well on Rahel. And here I thought she was the one I had to worry about.”

  Alejandra’s furious expression eased. “She’s already complaining about being kept in bed. I think she’d be practicing with her stave if I let her.”

  “Her stave!” She tried to sit up and was instantly pushed back down.

  “Do not get ideas about moving until I say otherwise. I swear, you’re as bad as Rahel.”

  “I told you not to set off her temper,” Lhyn said knowingly. “What about her stave?”

  “I had to confiscate it. I put it in my bridge console for safekeeping. If Greve—I can’t let anything happen to it.”

  “I’ll ask Commander Lokomorra to bring it to my office. That’s probably safer than anywhere near you or Rahel right now.”

  “Thank you.” She relaxed, the immediate emergency resolved. “I’m not worried about an investigation. Fleet only has to look at the first five minutes of battle footage to know Greve would have cost us two ships at the very least. Nothing I did as Fahla is actionable—”

  “Oh, sister.” Lhyn grinned, enjoying her use of Whitesun slang. “What you did as Fahla started a revolution. Fleet won’t climb up your ass about that.”

  Alejandra nodded, confirming the outrageous statement. “The government went into freefall within hours of the surrender. Remember when Commodore Vataka said the Empire would fall in a day if the slaves and hangers revolted?”

  “Yes?”

  “He was right. They’ve been rising up on planets all over the Empire. The military hasn’t responded because first, they’re stretched too thin, and second, they’re falling apart, too. Those ships don’t run very well when the hangers and slaves stop taking orders. Neither do dirtside detachments of soldiers.”

  Ekatya stared at her, speechless. “I started a revolution?”

  “On the scale of an empire.”

  “Fucking Hades.”

  “Yeah,” Lhyn agreed cheerfully. “I think you might have some pull with Sholokhov now.”

  She was sitting up, brushing her teeth after an Alejandra-approved meal, when Admiral Greve strode in.

  Lovely. Just what she needed to elevate the throbbing in her head back to a full migraine.

  He stood at the foot of her bed and scowled. “Spit that out.”

  She stopped brushing, raised her eyebrows, and resumed at a slower pace.

  “Oh, for the love of all that’s holy. Are you a child? I gave you an order.”

  He stewed for another twenty seconds while she finished and spit into the bowl on her tray. Then she held up a finger, rinsed and spit again, and finally wiped her mouth with the napkin. “I’m on medical leave,” she said, pushing the tray back on its swinging arm. “You want to give orders, do it somewhere else.”

  “I want to give you orders for the last few days I can before Fleet kicks you down to a garbage hauler or out altogether. I don’t care what magical shielding you’ve had up until now, it’s over. You’ll never set foot on a warship bridge again.”

  “I don’t think that’s your decision,” she said silkily.

  Having nothing left to lose was an incredible freedom.

  “Maybe not, but my report will have weight with the people who do make that decision. You know what else will have weight? The footage of you on that broadcast, playacting at being a Seeder.” He shook his head in mock sorrow. “Some captains have a god complex, but you’re the first to take it literally. Half of Fleet won’t serve with you because you profaned our gods by pretending to be one. The other half won’t serve because they’re afraid you weren’t pretending. Me, I think you really are that deluded. It doesn’t matter that you won that battle. What matters is that you’re politically toxic.”

  She let her disdain show. “I’ve been that for the past four and a half years. Nothing new there. Maybe you’re right; maybe it doesn’t matter that I won the battle. But you know what does matter? That you would have lost it. Badly. Ah ah!” She lifted a hand, her glare stopping his retort mid-word. “You want to talk political toxicity? Let’s talk about an irrelevant admiral playacting at being a battle commander. Let’s talk about who in Fleet will want to serve with a man who tried to send two crews to their deaths for the sake of his pride. If I’m toxic, you’re radioactive.”

  A wave of red rose from his collar. “You knew what Sayana planned. You had to. She was never loyal to Fleet, she was loyal to you and Lancer Tal.”

  “She’s loyal to Alsea. But the real problem is that she shattered your fantasy, isn’t it?” This anger had a flavor of betrayal to it, and his expression confirmed her guess. “You enjoyed thinking she respected you. She deserves an acting award for that. It must have taken a truly creative imagination.”

  His jaw was so tight that he could have chewed the heads off tension bolts. “She playacted almost as well as you, Fahla. You two deserve each other. I can’t tell you how happy I am to see both of you in here. She’s getting a practice run at her future prison cell, and you’re getting a practice run at your enforced retirement. Are you bored yet?”

  “No, I’m still counting up the pages I’ll have in the history books when they talk about the fall of the Voloth Empire. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll get a footnote.” She gave him a smug smile. “I may be going out, but I’ll go out on top.”

  For an intriguing moment, she thought he might choke. If he did, she planned to wait a good five minutes before hitting the medical call button.

  “You’re not fit to serve,” he managed. “Fleet will be well rid of you.”

  “The captain who won a battle at three-to-one odds and started a revolution? They’ll use me in recruitment posters.”

  “I detest you,” he snarled. His fists were clenched in helpless fury, reminding her of a school bully whose bluff had been called.

  “Fair enough,” she said mildly. “I detest you, too. It might be the one thing we have in common.”

  Having nothing left to say, he spun on his heel and stalked out.

  26

  Blackout

  Two hours later, Ekatya was finally released from the medbay with strict instructions to go home and relax.

  On her way out, she dropped in on Rahel but found her asleep. It was odd to look at her through physical eyes rather than from the spiritual plane. Even odder was the thought that two days ago, she had held this woman’s liver in her hands. />
  She watched Rahel breathing, easily and deeply, and decided to never again think of open abdominal cavities and glistening organs.

  She left no note or sign of her presence. Greve was too paranoid and Rahel’s position too tenuous to risk it.

  Entering her quarters was like revisiting a home she no longer lived in. Everything was achingly familiar, yet she wandered through with a sense that she was merely a guest, soon to leave. The computer responded only to the most basic of requests, locking her out of even low-level situation reports and reiterating the difficult truth: her life here was over. Her command codes were suspended, and without them, she had no more power on this ship than a VIP passenger.

  Make that less power, she thought when an attempted call to her grandparents failed. Her quantum com allowance had been suspended along with her codes. Greve had trapped her on her own ship. She might not be in the brig, but in every other way, she was imprisoned.

  Eventually, she settled down with a book, a recording of the Enkara Preserve on her display, and smooth instrumental music to help calm her thoughts. It was a quiet, peaceful evening, the sort she would have killed for a week ago. She received no guests and expected none, knowing that Greve had ordered the section chiefs to refrain from contact until the investigation was complete. Alejandra had been the exception as long as she was still in the medbay.

  Not that Alejandra cared much for the order. Ekatya was startled when her matter printer activated of its own accord and presented a meal, a teabag, and a message on the display.

  Eat everything. Doctor’s orders. The tea is herbal and will help with the headache and chest pain. It also has anti-asshead properties.

  Laughing, she carried the tea to her kitchen and added it to a cup of hot water. Four minutes later, she lifted the mug in a salute to her friend and sipped it.