A Blue Star Rising

by Cecilia Randell

  Levi had claimed a spot on the floor, leaning up against the wall near the door, and Blue had scooted in to lean her back against his chest. Then Felix had arranged Forrest so the younger man’s head was in her lap. It was like a mini—and strange—hug train.

  When Felix had called Mo’ata, and she’d heard his voice—and the suppressed anger that she’d decided to put herself in danger yet again—the emotions had overwhelmed her. She’d wanted to yell at her First Priden, she’d wanted to kick the bodies she could reach, she’d wanted to shake Forrest until he woke up, and she’d wanted to curl up next to her Beast in the stables and ignore the world. And wouldn’t Beast be mad when they made it home.

  It was all too much, too fast, and the feelings spilled out in great gulping sobs.

  She was going to have to figure out a better way to cope if she was going to convince the boss, and her guys, that she’d be able to handle being in the Order.

  Felix had stared at her from the chair he’d claimed in front of the monitors. “Get it out,” he’d said. Just that. Then he’d added, “Learn when and how to get it out. Now is a good time.” Simple, no nonsense, and… exactly what she’d needed to hear.

  She’d forgive his comment about dealing with the crying girl.

  But now Forrest was awake, really awake, and speaking. That was a whole different set of emotions to get out.

  “They were so pretty. The colors. But they’re gone now.” A mix of bewilderment and longing infused his tone. Vivi abandoned the green-gloved hand she’d been gnawing on, and crept up onto Forrest’s chest, curling up and purring for all she was worth.

  Better, not-better.

  Garfield also sensed Forrest wasn’t yet out of whatever the drug had done to him. But he was getting there.

  A shaky hand came up and rested against the back of her head. Forrest didn’t say anything else, just kept his hand on her as she bent over him. She shifted and found his mouth with hers, giving him a gentle kiss. He sighed.

  When she finally pulled back, his eyes were closed. His breaths were deep, and even, and she counted fifteen of them before Jason cleared his throat and pulled her attention away.

  “It’s a good sleep, Blue. More natural than whatever was happening before,” he said.

  She conjured up a smile for him. Well, it was more of a tick of her lips. “I know. I just…”

  He matched her almost-smile. “Need to get it out?”

  “Yes.”

  He nodded. Felix grunted, and Levi’s arms came around her waist to pull her back against him. She threaded her fingers through Forrest’s hair and prepared to continue waiting.

  TREVON

  Trevon stalked through the halls of the facility.

  When they’d arrived, the remaining guards had been sitting in a line at the base of the piers with hands on their knees, the traditional signal of surrender. There were ten of them, which meant Felix had missed three somewhere. And because they had surrendered, Trevon had not been able to unleash the fury he’d kept in check for the last… eighteen hours or so.

  Those mercenaries also told them where to find the two Ministry agents and three others, including the girl Annaliese, the one who’d disappeared the day before. She was not in good shape. She’d been in a small room, more of a cell, and mumbling about colors and shapes and finding the right spaces. When one of the Order guards took her arm to lead her out, she’d screamed as though she’d been burned, and fainted. The other two with her, also students, had been in a similar condition.

  And the Ministry Agents…

  Whatever had been done to them, Trevon wasn’t sure they would ever recover.

  There had also been five natives in various states of dissection.

  Trevon swallowed back the bile that rose in his throat. Not at the remembered sight of those bodies, but at the idea that Forrest and Levi, Blue’s family, could have ended up like that.

  But they hadn’t.

  They were still trapped in the control room. Apparently, Jason had ripped the wiring too badly for the mercenary to repair. Trevon had to admit, if he had one working arm and was given the option of being careful but maybe a little too slow or ripping the wires, he would have ripped as well.

  There were people working on getting them out. More than enough. Soon, this place would be swarming with Ministry and Order agents, everyone trying to get their hands on anything to tell them what had been done to the men here.

  Trevon turned another corner and came to a halt at the sight of a man in a light green coat sprawled out on the cold concrete floor. There was more than enough blood to tell him the man was beyond dead.

  He stepped over the body and crouched down to examine him. Miyari. The features were close enough to the aging projection. His gaze roved down, over the shredded coat and flesh. He had not had an easy death. Good.

  Trevon tracked the blood over the floor and up the wall, to the bloody print on the scanner. Smiling, he lifted the dead man’s hand and pressed it against the plexi. When the door slid open, he rose and entered.

  More of the same gray, concrete walls met his gaze, but unlike the other holding cells, this was laid out more as an operating room. Trays of instruments sat on counters waiting to be used. A bed, surrounded by equipment and equipped with restraints sat in the middle of the space. Lockers and shelves of vials and other supplies led him to believe this was the main operating and monitoring room.

  There was a door in the far wall, half hidden between two standing cabinets. And another handscanner. Trevon grabbed the body in the hall and dragged it through the room, using the man’s hand to unlock what he hoped was his office.

  The door slid open. He was right. Monitors and data cards and equipment, oh my. And in the corner, a plant with glossy dark leaves and bright white flowers.

  Trevon thought about what the man had been doing here. He thought about the fact the man may not have been operating alone, that there may be other players besides that girl Mika. There were no doubt records upon records of who the drugs had been given to, who had bought them, who had helped distribute them. He would be able to find out exactly how his man had fallen foul of this whole thing.

  Then he thought about the people who had taken this drug, and about the empty stares of the agents. He thought of the panic he had heard in Blue’s voice, even over the comm, even if he could not make out the words. He thought of the bodies of the natives, and the pieces they had not found. And he remembered tales of a time centuries ago, when another man had attempted to alter the natural course of things.

  And succeeded.

  He didn’t need to look through this research to know what he would find. His gaze drifted to the flower. It was similar to the plumar, but for the color.

  Picking up the plant and setting it on the bed in the outer room, Trevon came to a decision. They may not be able to track all the roots and branches of this operation, but far more dangerous was the risk of this research falling into the hands of those who would use it “for the betterment of the Alliance”.

  He had no doubt that some official, somewhere, would be told of the investigation. They would inquire into the cause of it. They would ask for the reports. And then they would decide that, though the drug had not been ready and the experiments unethical as conducted, the idea itself had merit.

  This he could not allow.

  One more thought occurred to him. If Miyari had not been working alone, he could have already reported his findings and procedures to that person, and the work could continue. Trevon could hobble that piece of the investigation. But he also knew he’d eventually be able to track down whoever Miyari worked for.

  The choice came down to one thing: whether to allow the data gathered by Miyari’s experiments into the Alliance’s hands, or to delay the capture of any accomplices. Access to the blooms would be cut off for a while, and he doubted whoever Miyari was reporting to would be able to duplicate the effects without them, at least not any time soon.

  That decided
him.

  The outcome of the first option was a surety, and one he couldn’t have come to pass. Justice—vengeance—could be delayed in the interest of preventing that outcome.

  “Sir.”

  Trevon turned to look at Prin.

  “I have heard from Achile. He is still at least a day away.”

  Trevon nodded. They’d only had the most general idea of the area to search when Achile had left for Falass a few days earlier, and he’d ended up at the wrong village, nearly two days to the south. But he was still in the territory where plumar blooms could be found and where Pinch had said he got most of his goods from…

  He’d have to have a talk with Pinch after this.

  “They are also nearly through the control room door,” Prin continued. “I thought you may want to be there when it opens.”

  “Thank you.” Trevon looked at the office and then the lab around him. “Do you have a lighter on you?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good.”

  BLUE

  Mo’ata and whoever else had come with him had been working on the door for a good half hour now. Blue could barely hold herself still, despite a lingering shortness of breath Felix had said was probably due to the hits she’d taken from the stunner. If they hadn’t hit the armor…

  But they had. Blue shook off the what-ifs.

  They were almost out of here.

  Forrest had woken up again just before Mo’ata and the others had appeared on the monitors, standing at the edge of the tree line. Now he sat against the same wall as Levi, Blue wedged between the two of them. Vivi had curled up in his lap, and Garfield had claimed Levi’s when Blue moved out of it. They rested together like that as Felix coordinated with the men—and one woman—on the other side of the door. Jason ended up near the far monitors, nearer the bodies than the rest of them, and… separate. Not a thought she enjoyed having.

  Then she wasn’t thinking of anything. The doors parted and Mo’ata was there, sweeping her into a fierce bear hug. He set her down almost immediately and held her out at arm’s length, looking her over. She let him, knowing he needed to assure himself of her wellbeing before anything else.

  Dean Gravin shoved him aside and kneeled beside Forrest, checking him over. He moved to Levi. Another man, clad in the dark armor of the mercenaries Blue was used to, copied him, but this time in a much for formal-looking manner, checking pulse and eyes and whatever else he could possibly check, including running a little handheld scanner-thing over their heads and chests.

  “Stable, but we do need to get them both to a healer as soon as possible,” the man said. Blue dug out the coil of tubing she’d taken when they rescued Forrest and handed it over, explaining what it was.

  Dean Gravin nodded and motioned to a couple more men standing in the corridor. “Help me get them outside. I’ll take them back first, then return for the rest of you.”

  Emila was there as well, sniffing the two cubs over and having what Blue thought was a very growly conversation with them. Grunts, sniffs, and yowls were exchanged. Then the bigger piquet nodded and followed the dean out the door, and Garfield radiated satisfaction.

  Guess the last part of that had been a “well done.”

  And not “the dean.” No, that had been the Piper Boy.

  Everything became a whirlwind of activity after that. Forrest and Levi were taken away, along with Jason to get his arm treated. Trevon popped up beside her, grinned, and said, “Nice carnage.”

  A lady-mercenary, as tall as half of the men and moving with that same lethal grace, led her away to do what she called a full check-over. And she was more than thorough. People were talking on comms, rushing up and down corridors, hauling around cages and boxes, and—in one memorable encounter—a line of stretchers.

  Blue didn’t want to ask, not yet.

  And then things got crazy. Someone yelled, “Fire!” and she was ushered to the lift and down onto the clearing around the piers. Garfield and Vivi were with her, and Felix—who’d barely left her side, even in all the chaos—was on the next lift down, along with Trevon. The Family head wore a sly smile that he wiped away as soon as he noticed her looking, and she suspected the blaze was more than a simple accident.

  Again, she’d ask later.

  Soon smoke, having filtered into the halls, was puffing out of the top of the door. Mo’ata and another dark-haired man stumbled out of the door and to the lift, coughing. The lift stuck halfway down, and they leapt the rest of the way.

  Guess they hadn’t been able to put out the fire.

  She didn’t care. Actually, she was enjoying watching the place burn.

  Chapter 37

  BLUE

  It was two ten-days later, and Blue was snuggled into the corner of their new couch under a fluffy blanket.

  She liked this new couch better. It was a deep, almost midnight-blue with a light lavender pinstripe. They still hadn’t decided on a rug, so the floor was bare, but there were now two extra chairs, not just the one, to match the sofa.

  Forrest sat next to her, a sketchpad balanced on one knee. He was working on their seyna design and kept asking her what she liked. She kept telling him blue. And wasn’t he supposed to know what she liked by now?

  He was maybe getting a little frustrated with her.

  And she was maybe teasing him with it a little too much.

  He’d stayed at the healer’s for three days. They’d cleared him after just a few hours, but since no one knew exactly how the drug he’d been given worked, they’d wanted to keep him under observation. Blue had agreed.

  As Forrest grunted and erased something, Blue’s gaze wandered to the nook. She had a perfect view of the shelves that had finally gone up. Seven of them. One for her, Mo’ata, Forrest, Levi, Felix, Trevon, and Jason each. And on each shelf were six jars, labeled with each of the other’s names.

  She snorted. Trevon’s jar on Felix’s shelf was nearly half full. But so was Felix’s on Trev’s shelf. She didn’t even know what they were for, but she could guess at least one was for the fuck-topus. They’d have to start trading those in soon.

  Everyone’s jar had one or two pennies in them, even hers. Once the shelves had gone up and the labeled jars were in place, they’d been used liberally. Maybe more than they really needed to be, but everyone was still getting used to the system.

  She’d put a couple coins in Mo’ata’s and Trevon’s jars. And then in Forrest’s and Levi’s. All of them had been struggling with the idea that she had invaded a mercenary-guarded facility with only two other men—even if one was the sneakiest of the sneaky—and a piquet cub. She’d pointed out that they’d done exactly what they’d intended to do, which was stop whatever was happening to Forrest, without any of them being seriously hurt. That she had, in fact, been the one to do the rescuing this time.

  Mo’ata had conceded the point, especially after the healers came to the conclusion, based on the condition of the others who’d been held at the facility, that if she had waited the five hours for the others to reach the facility, then Forrest’s recovery would not be as smooth as it had been. Or he would not have recovered at all.

  Occasionally he had nightmares. And when it was his night with her, she held him just a little tighter. Maybe a lot tighter. Maybe so tight he squirmed—but only until he squirmed. According to the boss, Mika had slipped away, and they suspected there were others involved as well. Now that the immediate danger was over, he’d assigned other agents, ones who could be more mobile, to the investigation.

  Blue hadn’t liked that. It left a hint of dissatisfaction in her chest, a small stone of disappointed frustration at not being able to finish what she’d started. But she had understood the boss’s reasoning.

  The bottom shelf held Jason’s jars. Nearly empty, they were a reminder that he wasn’t there. The Ministry had insisted he return to Falass until they could permanently assign two more agents. The villagers didn’t trust him exactly, but to add yet more unfamiliar faces when their “ally�
�� had just disappeared would have been too much for them. So he continued to play the foreign man looking for his friends.

  She shifted her attention to the slice of wall between the nook and the door to her hallway. Derrick’s drawing hung there in a place of honor and pride. Below it were three shelves. One held the vial of his ashes. She’d put the fuck-topus next to it. The next shelf held a piquet, a quorin, and a nightbird, and the last shelf held space for more.

  Slowly they were making their mark on the apartment.

  The entry door slid open, and Levi entered. He nodded to Forrest, who returned the gesture and set his drawing pad aside. He leaned over to give Blue a quick kiss on the forehead. “Be right back.”

  “Oh?”

  He just grinned, being all mysterious, and followed Levi into the secondary bedrooms. A few seconds later, Mo’ata emerged from the hall he shared with her and Forrest and disappeared into Levi’s room.

  Definitely mysterious.

  When Felix rushed into the apartment, a little out of breath and cheeks flushed, and didn’t even pause to greet her before also heading into Levi’s room, she knew something sneaky was happening.

  And then the cubs tumbled out of her hallway and ran across the room.

  What the…

  But she was too comfortable to move. It was a very good sofa.

  A few minutes later they came back out. Forrest picked up his drawing pad and resumed what he was doing like nothing had happened. Mo’ata and Levi went to the kitchen to begin dinner. They were trying a new recipe tonight, something using Padilrian ingredients. Felix, Vivi perched on his shoulder, sat in his chair and pulled out a piece of wood and a whittling knife.

  None of them said a thing.

  Okay then.

  Forrest tapped one of his fingers against the pad and something glinted. Felix bit off a curse, and she caught him examining the tip of his ring finger as a small drop of blood welled up.