Lian turned to Trish. “They waited till I was gone.”
She nodded. “I told you this was itchy. I guess it was Gin, not the Dalmin.”
“Shit,” he said again. “What can I even do about this?”
“Sir?” Candi asked, her eyebrows lowering in confusion. “He’s already in custody. There’s no more danger.”
Trish wrinkled her nose. “Lian and I are already aware of Gin’s true identity. We’ve already cleared him. He’s not a threat to anyone.”
“But, then why…?” Candi gestured to the wanted notice on the screen.
Lian shook his head. “I’m going to call Admiral Alejaro right now. The fact they waited implies more about me than about Gin.”
He went to the nearest com station and started to dial the admiral’s number. Before he could complete the series of buttons, something collided with the Bethany. The walls groaned and shuddered, throwing everyone to the floor.
Lian shot to his feet. “Damage report!”
Sou grunted, but got to the nearest station and surveyed the damage. “External damage to the upper hull. Something hit us, hard.”
Beside him, Trish was helping Candi up. Candi’s hands protectively clutched her protruding stomach, but she waved off Trish’s help once she was standing.
“Is there a breach?” Lian asked.
“No…. Yes, sir. A breach at the 36-degree mark. Your quarters. The Bethany has isolated the upper level.”
Lian smacked his hands down on the console beside him. “The Dalmin are up there! Override the automatic separation and send someone to get them out!”
Sou pushed a series of buttons, then shook his head. “The breach has sealed itself, Captain. The hull is fully intact.”
Lian went to Sou’s station and stared down at the screen. “What the fuck? How is that even possible?”
Doc suddenly rushed into the room. “Lian? Are you hurt?” She put her hands on his arm.
“I’m fine. Double-check Candi.”
She nodded, but hesitated. “Gin’s locked up in the brig.”
He growled. “I know. And I’ll deal with it when I have a moment.”
She dipped her head again, then ran to Candi’s side.
“Sir,” Sou said slowly, “we’re being hailed.”
“Link to their communication.”
On the screen in front of him, a Dalmin face appeared. “I am First Tetallio of the Gorsho beshwa. I demand that you release to me the traitorous and lying Capillto Remarnio Pachilanto. If you do so, no one on your ship shall be harmed. If you resist us, we will have no choice but to annihilate you along with the traitors.” His mouth showed rows of sharp teeth. “You have two minutes.”
The feed cut off.
“What did he say?” Sou asked, eyes wide and lips trembling. “What do they want?”
Lian locked eyes with Trish. There was only one course of action. She nodded.
Lian hit a series of buttons on Sou’s console. The complex code told the Bethany to initiate evacuation protocol. The room began to flash with red warning lights, and an announcement came over the call system.
“This is an emergency. Please evacuate to the nearest escape pod.” The words played over and over again.
“Everyone,” Lian said, “get down to Base. Prepare your pods and be ready to eject on my command.”
It was a slow shuffle heading toward the elevators. A few even told Lian they would stay, but he forced them to move. Doc shot him a terrified look, but she helped Candi get into the confined space.
“What do we do now?” Trish asked.
“We wait for them to call us back and tell them quite firmly what our answer is.”
“What about the First and his loyal Dalmin on the top floor?”
“We’ll get them out once I’ve dealt with this rebel scum.”
Chapter 26
GIN STOOD still in the middle of his tiny area. With Doc gone, a silence hung over sickbay. The unnerving quiet sent occasional shivers up Gin’s spine.
What had happened? The Bethany’s tracking system wouldn’t allow an inanimate object to collide with her hull. That meant it was intentional. Someone, or something, purposefully rammed into the ship.
What if it was Lian? What if his pod malfunctioned and crashed instead of docking? The barely held fear within him crested. If Lian was hurt, or worse, dead, what would Gin do? He’d never experienced emotions like this before. Lian awoke within him a sense of worth he’d never encountered. Lian couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t.
Suddenly, the lights flashed from their normal yellowish glow to a red. A loud, feminine voice called, “This is an emergency. Please evacuate to the nearest escape pod. This is an emergency. Please evacuate to the nearest escape pod.”
“What the hell?” Gin said, looking around the room. Evacuation protocol? How was he supposed to evacuate when he was locked in the brig?
Self-preservation kicked in and he threw himself at the keypad. Closing his eyes, he focused on his fingertips. He was certain, right before the click fried, he’d felt a connection to the device. Lian hadn’t believed it, but Gin was sure. Now that he thought about it, there were several times he could diagnose an engine problem by simply touching the vehicle. He’d attributed it to his studies, but maybe that was his spark too.
Please, he called to it. We need to get out of here. I don’t want you to fry anything, I want you to talk to it.
His bones began to rumble. That was a good sign. The spark had returned a lot faster than after the last discharge.
Please. Let’s try this together. I know we can do it.
It still felt odd talking to the spark as if it were a separate entity, but if it got them out of the brig, he’d be happy.
A shock ran from his fingers into the keypad. It was as if he were looking at a screen full of code. He could see the functions of the pad, how they connected to the door, and how the lock had been overridden to allow only a certain clearance level to open it.
With his spark, he navigated within the code and tinkered with a few lines. A half second later, the door slid open.
It had worked.
But his spark still sizzled at his fingertips. He couldn’t risk touching anything with his bare skin.
He ran out of the room. At the door to sickbay, he used his elbow to push the button. Once there was enough space, he slipped through the divide and hurried out into the hallway.
A few people ran down the corridor, heading toward the nearest elevators. He could probably manage to keep from touching anything in the tiny, electrical device, but didn’t want to risk it. The stairwell would be a better option. He turned back around and went into sickbay. He spotted the latch immediately. It was against the far wall to his right, the opposite end of where the brig was. Gin went to it.
Biting his lip, he looked down at the latch. It wasn’t electrical. It was old-fashioned. He could touch it without anything bad happening. Tentatively, he reached out and grasped the handle. No discharge. He let out a relieved breath, then pulled the latch—it hadn’t been used in quite some time. It opened up and out. Gin climbed inside and headed down. Metal clanks of other crew members echoed up and down the shaft.
At the bridge, Gin climbed out. He glanced around the room, immediately spying Lian and Trish standing over the navigation console.
Trish looked up first, and a wide grin appeared on her face. “Gin!”
Lian glanced, too, and his face showed so much relief that Gin’s heart swelled. The captain had been worried about him.
“Gin,” Lian said, but then returned his eyes to the console screen. “I swear we were going to get you out of there. I never would have allowed you to stay confined during the evacuation.”
“I know,” Gin said, joining them. “But I figured I’d give you a hand.”
Lian snorted. “So thoughtful.”
“What’s happening?”
Trish filled him in. “Rebel Dalmin rammed the ship and want to kill First Capillto.
He and his council are trapped on the top floor.”
Gin’s eyes widened. “Trapped how?” But even as he said it, he knew the Bethany’s life-support systems. They’d seal off any level with an airlock malfunction. So, he amended, “How do we get them out?”
Lian hesitated. “I need to communicate with the rebels before we do anything. Negotiations first.”
“Lian—” Trish began, but he shook his head.
“If we can keep them talking long enough, the pods will be able to escape. The radars indicate no other ships in the vicinity, but they could have cloaking technology. It also means they’ve already destroyed the Dalmin ship traveling with us. There’s no doubt they’ll attack our escape pods. I want to ensure my crew remains safe.”
“I’ll go get the Dalmin,” Gin said.
Lian and Trish both looked at him as if he’d claimed to be the emperor of Perseus 5.
“I can sneak up the stairwell.”
With a shake of his head, Lian said, “The way is sealed, Gin. The Bethany isn’t letting me override the life support system.”
Gin lifted his hand. “How do you think I got out of the brig?”
Again, Lian and Trish stared at him like he was crazy.
“I can do it. Believe in me.”
Lian’s face softened. “Go ahead. But be careful. I’ll distract the rebels as much as I can. However, it seems their ship is designed to ram others and seal the airlock. They might be wandering around on the top floor.”
“I’ll go with him,” Trish said. She pulled her hi-gun from her holster.
Lian removed his own gun and handed it to Gin. “Take this, just in case.”
Gin didn’t touch the metal weapon. “I can’t. My spark’s still active.”
Cursing, Lian returned his gun to his hip.
“Besides,” Gin said, “you might need it yourself.”
Lian grabbed Gin’s collar and pulled him in for a brief, but hard, kiss. “Hurry back. I’m not leaving the ship without you two.”
Gin pulled away and nodded. Then he ran back to the stairwell he’d emerged from.
“No kiss for me, Lian?” Trish asked with a laugh, then she raced after Gin.
Back in the stairwell, there was no noise. Everyone had reported to the escape pods by now. All but the trapped Dalmin. A pang of worry quickened Gin’s steps. They’d be scared, trapped on an unfamiliar ship. He and Trish had to hurry and get them out. “We leave you alone for an hour and this is what happens?” Trish quipped as they climbed.
Gin appreciated her attempt at levity. His soft chuckles at her joke calmed him somewhat. “I guess you’re going to have to take me along next time.”
“I was thinking that I’d leave Lian with you and go on the missions by myself.”
Gin’s laugh echoed around them.
When he got to the seal, though, his mirth faded. The metal lock extended from the side of the tube and it looked thick.
“A manual override isn’t working,” Trish said, “so that means someone’s been messing with the system. The Bethany’s schematics show the Dalmin ship hit in Lian’s quarters. It’s possible they’re using the com station in his room to mess with the mainframe. I’m not sure how you think we can get past this….”
She trailed off as Gin reached out to the hinge where the seal met the wall. His spark raced into it, but like with the keypad, he held on to it—like a dog on a leash. It raced into the Bethany’s systems and he could identify the coding that locked the breached levels.
Just a quick change there, he told it, and the spark went to work. The code shifted and the seal opened.
“Good job,” Trish said, a hint of awe in her voice. “That was amazing.”
“Thanks,” he called back, then started climbing again.
“What did you do?”
He smiled as he said, “I’m a Valkea.”
Chapter 27
WITH THE way cleared, Trish insisted on taking the lead. She climbed over Gin in the narrow stairwell, nearly stepping on his fingers. Once past him, she hurried up the rest of the way.
The chute they’d chosen opened in Candi’s room, and it was around the corner from where the Dalmin were staying. At the exit, Trish slowly opened the hatch and peered outside. She must have been confident in what she saw, because she climbed out of the well.
Gin followed. Candi’s room wasn’t large, considering she was the third highest ranked officer on the ship. But it did have some perks: a small bathroom, a larger bed, and a closed binder along the outside wall.
Trish immediately went to the door that led to the hallway. She placed her ear against the metal, but grimaced. “I can’t hear a thing.” Nodding her head to Gin, she added, “The doors will be sealed as well. Come work your magic.”
Gin licked his lips. He was getting the hang of this. He placed his hand along the button and sent his spark into it. This time, it hardly needed coaxing. It fried the wire that froze the door, then returned obediently to Gin’s fingers.
The door opened. Gin jumped back, allowing Trish to poke her head, and her gun, outside.
“Clear,” she said, then went into the hallway.
Gin suddenly wished he’d taken Lian’s gun. He was utterly defenseless. Before following Trish, he scanned Candi’s room for a weapon. He found a vase on her side table, filled with artificial sunflowers. Surely Candi would understand if he borrowed it. He grasped it and dumped the flowers unceremoniously to the floor. Holding it above his head like a cudgel, he hurried after Trish.
When he caught up to her at the intersection of the other hallway, she glanced at him and raised her eyebrow.
“It might help.”
She shrugged. “There are two Dalmin standing guard outside the First’s room. It doesn’t look like they’ve figured out how to open the doors.” She chuckled softly. “They jammed the system to keep us from interfering and didn’t count on it locking them out. That gives us a chance.” She took a deep breath and turned to face him. “I’m going to kill the intruders, Gin. I need you to open those doors and get the Dalmin to safety.”
“But I can help,” he said dejectedly. “I can fight with you.”
Her grin was sweet and sympathetic—something he’d never seen on her face before. “I love your courage. But Dalmin are skilled warriors. It’ll be tough for me. I can only devote my whole attention to them if I know the others will be safe.”
Gin nodded. “Of course. Whatever you need me to do, Trish.”
Her smile became wider. “For our next mission, I’ll give you combat lessons. You’ll be able to kick ass in our next battle.”
“It’s a deal.”
“Wait until I engage them, then move quickly.” Without waiting for his reply, she launched herself forward. The sound of a guttural, deep language met his ears, then surprised yells. The sound of a hi-gun beam shot out.
Gin peeked around the corner and his mouth dropped. And not from the sight of the Dalmin, either. Though they were large, with almost translucent skin that showed bulging sinew and muscles, it was Trish who drew his eyes. She had downed one with a shot to the shoulder. They slumped to the floor on a double-jointed knee. The other currently reached for her with colossal hands, but she easily darted out of their grip and got around to their back. From there, she fired another shot, taking out the standing one with a direct shot through the head. A blueish blood spurted from the wound and the Dalmin fell forward, eyes already rolling up.
Gin shut his eyes to keep the vomit from rising. And he’d thought he could assist her? Already, the metallic scent of blood filled his nose and added to the nausea roiling in his stomach.
Get a grip on yourself. You have a job to do.
Gritting his teeth, he opened his eyes and surveyed the scene again. Trish was too close to the other Dalmin to get a good shot, so they grappled hand to hand. Their tussle took up most of the hallway, and a dead body took up the other part.
Gin gagged as his gaze landed on the corpse.
Focus. Focus.
He locked his eyes on the door the two had been guarding. He had to get there. Before he could lose all his courage, he dashed out into the hallway. A yell behind him made him glance back, and he saw two other Dalmin exiting Lian’s room. Gin let out a scream of his own and increased his pace. Funny how the area around Trish and her gun didn’t look so scary anymore.
As he quickly closed the distance between himself and Trish, the heavy thuds of footfalls sounded behind him. Without looking over his shoulder, he threw the vase as hard as he could behind him. The glass shattered and one of the Dalmin cried out. Gin didn’t slow to see if it had any effect.
Trish moved like lightning and pivoted his direction. She fired two shots above Gin’s head. Gin squealed and ducked, but the blasts were already connecting with their intended targets. Two thumps echoed off the walls as the Dalmin fell. Dead or not, he didn’t know. He continued on.
Turning back to her own battle, Trish struck out with her fist and hit the Dalmin in their wounded shoulder. They let out a string of words that had to be curses. Their momentary distraction allowed Gin to slip between the two of them and to the locked door beyond.
He reached out to the touch pad and summoned his spark. It responded immediately. The door flew open and Gin ran inside.
The Dalmin First aimed a punch at Gin, but since he’d anticipated another Dalmin, the massive fist went far above Gin’s head. Still, Gin ducked and rushed farther into the room.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Gin said in Federation Standard, holding out his hands in a nonthreatening way. “I’m here to get you down to safety.”
The First stared at him blankly. Hell and high heaven. Gin never even considered the First wouldn’t speak Federation.
But then the Dalmin lowered his hands. “My door was stuck.” His words were understandable, but the accent thick. “I could not escape though instructed to.”
“Yes, the invading Dalmin have overridden the Bethany’s systems. But I can get you out. Please, follow me.”
“And the others? They are safe?”
Gin went back to the door and looked out into the hallway. Trish had moved back to the intersection and had her gun pointing toward the left. All four Dalmin lay dead on the ground. Gin swallowed the bile in his throat. “We’ll get them out next. Please, follow me, First.”
Spark in the Stars Page 17