by Roxie Ray
“No, of course not,” I replied sarcastically.
If Respen noticed my harsh tone, he gave no sign. “There is one called Darqar, an outcast among Lunians – an aberration who rejected the teachings of our people. He sought to control the fate and flow of the universe, rather than simply understand and record it, as the rest of us do. Before we sent him into exile, we did all we could to separate him from the fundamental sources of power that we Lunians are able to access, but apparently, he found new ways to tap into it.”
“Great,” I groaned. “Another rousing triumph for the Moon-People.”
“It stands to reason,” Respen went on, “that Torqa and Darqar have found common cause and formed an alliance. No doubt Torqa has promised him Yuluna itself – with all of its formidable cosmic artifacts – as his prize for channeling the central energies of all reality into her cloaking device. I would further venture a guess that the holes in space-time, which produce the plasma storms surrounding Kenexa, act as a conduit for such power. Darqar would merely have to collect and store enough of it to fuel the cloaking device before a mission, using his own essence as a living battery, and then return there for more of it afterward.”
I glanced at the others on the command deck. They were trying to hide their astonishment in the wake of what Respen had just told us, but even though they were all hardened warriors of Valkred, none of them were having much success.
Finally, I asked, “By the stars, is there any good news?”
Respen smiled. “As a matter of fact, yes, there is. There is only one Darqar. Which means Torqa can only have one functional cloaking device that covers a whole ship… namely, the one on the Dezmodon. She cannot, therefore, menace the Valkred, the Mana, or any other empires with an entire fleet of cloaked ships.”
“So far, she's doing enough damage with just the one,” Surge murmured. “And if she and this Darqar person do manage to conquer Yuluna, she could theoretically turn more Lunians into living batteries against their will, building a cloaked fleet that would conclusively prevent anyone from being a threat to her ever again. She could rule the entire galaxy with an iron fist in perpetuity.”
Everyone in the room except for Respen reacted to this, stunned.
“That's a scary fucking thought,” Vahmi said softly.
“Indeed,” Respen agreed. His tone was conversational, almost pleasant – which drove me mad. “What's more, I am uncertain of how significantly my presence on this ship will change any of the outcomes that worry you so.”
“Let me guess,” I ventured. “Now that you've given us all this information, you intend to sit back in the name of pacifism and let us handle the real fighting ourselves.”
“You misunderstand,” he said. “I pledged to Akzun that I would do all I could to assist you on this mission, and although my beliefs prevent me from personally taking a life, I intend to keep my promise to the very best of my ability. However, my usual ability to see and understand future events or their ultimate significance is severely clouded by Darqar's involvement, and his meddling with the primal forces of the cosmos. So I cannot guarantee what effect, if any, my being here will have, or how useful my rather esoteric abilities will be to you in this instance.”
“In that case,” Surge said dryly, “I hope you know your way around a galley, because the only major position on this vessel that hasn't been filled is the ship's cook.”
Respen smiled. “My people have not availed ourselves with nutrient sustenance in many eons, since our relationship with the stars fuels our bodies and minds. Still, I believe I might be able to concoct a meal that would be palatable to Valkredians, if called upon to do so. And their human mates, of course.”
As he said that last part, the bastard did the unthinkable: he actually turned and winked at me.
I silently begged the universe to give me one more chance to punch him. But until my wish was granted, I supposed I had no choice but to accept that he was now a member of our crew on this thrice-damned mission, for better or worse.
“One thing's certain,” Thezis said in his raspy, gravelly voice.
We all turned to look at him, surprised to hear him speak. “What's that?” I asked.
“If that ship does have a functional cloak,” he went on slowly, “then for all we know, it could be next to us right now, ready to blast us to specks at a moment's notice, and we wouldn't even know it. And that's how it'll be every step of the way on this trip… with all of us living a half-second from being vaporized.”
I was glad I'd sent Judy to her quarters earlier. Otherwise, having heard that, I highly doubted she'd be getting any sleep at all.
9
Judy
I did my best to get some sleep, since I knew that Dhimurs was right – I needed to seize any chance I could to rest up before our eventual encounter with Torqa, if I was going to be any real use in the fight. The truth was, I'd only resisted Dhimurs when he said that because I assumed he was testing me again, trying to show that I required more downtime than he did and therefore should be excluded from the more dangerous parts of the mission.
I reclined, keeping my clothes on in case an emergency called me back to the command deck.
The bed felt comfortable, especially since it was still luxurious compared to our sleeping accommodations on Macur. I hadn't quite realized how tired and stiff my muscles were until I allowed them to expand and relax on top of the mattress. I flexed my fingers and toes, trying to let go of the tension that had wound my entire body up so tightly.
When I closed my eyes, sleep did come for me – but the dreams made me wish it hadn't.
Gory images of the Macurians I'd lived side by side with for ten years… shredded, dismembered, their eyes staring, begging, accusing, all while I looked on helplessly. The coppery smell of blood and death filled my nostrils and stung my eyes, as hot tears of grief and rage spilled down my face. Torqa's jagged, insane laughter cut through the air all around me like the heated blade of a sword, mingling with the screams of the dying.
And from the depths of the caverns beneath me, so many pairs of eyes. The Macurians who had escaped this fate, staring at me, silently asking me why I couldn't do anything to stop this horror.
In my nightmare, Torqa marched through the village, holding bundles of severed heads and calling out my name in a shrill, mocking tone. When I saw whose heads they were, I clamped my hand over my mouth to contain my anguished shriek.
Ekaid.
Lidea.
And Dhimurs.
He had already fought her and failed. It was all over. There was no hope left, there never had been, and now, the entire galaxy would fall before Torqa's evil.
Everything went dark, and I looked up just in time to see the three suns of Macur snuffed out. The darkness of space rushed in to claim our planet. One by one, I saw more stars go out, until it seemed as though all of creation was being swallowed by a vast nothingness.
I sat up in bed with a gasp, my skin slick with cold sweat.
Knowing that it had just been a dream should have made me feel better, but it didn't. All I could think of was Dhimurs' head – jaw slack, eyes glassy, face crusted with blood.
He was one of the galaxy's greatest warriors. But what if that wouldn't be enough for him to prevail against Torqa, her legions, and her great black ship? What if nothing could protect me, my parents, or the rest of the cosmos from her relentless onslaught?
I had spent so much of my life waiting to see him again, convinced that we were meant to be together, that he was the only one for me. Now that I'd found him – now that I knew he felt the same way – what if we had come all this way only for me to watch him die?
The door chimed, and I was grateful for the interruption. I stood up, yawning and smoothing out my tangled hair. “Come in.”
Dhimurs entered, and for a strange moment, my mind had trouble reconciling him alive and in person after the gruesome images from a few minutes earlier. “Were you able to rest?” he asked.
&n
bsp; “Yes,” I lied. I didn't see the point of troubling him with the details of my bad dreams. Instead, I glanced out the window at the stars sliding past us. “Where are we?”
“Based on the path charted by the escape pod's navigational computer, we're taking a shortcut through the Di'Previi Asteroid Belt.”
“Is it dangerous?”
“Not at all. There are no sentient civilizations in this sector, hostile or otherwise. The asteroids themselves are relatively stationary. They're filled with ferrous ore deposits – gold, silver, iron, lead. Miners and scavengers sometimes travel here, but they largely mind their own business, and if we encounter any who don't, they'll be no match for the Wrath's weapons systems. We're safe for now.”
He seemed to be choosing his words a little too carefully. “And what about when we reach Kenexa?”
Dhimurs sighed. “We've all discussed it, and you have a right to know: We're almost certainly walking into a trap.”
“Good.”
Dhimurs raised his eyebrows. “I beg your pardon?”
“I'd rather be heading toward a trap than a dead end. At least a trap gets us closer to Torqa and my parents.”
“You're far braver than I gave you credit for,” he said with a smile.
“I'm aware of that,” I replied teasingly. “I'm just relieved to hear that you're finally becoming aware of it too, instead of continuing to treat me like some fragile flower.”
“I… regret that my tone was insulting to you earlier,” he said with some difficulty. “It was not my intention to belittle you. Merely to protect and serve you.”
“I know,” I assured him. “And I do appreciate it.”
God, those eyes. I could see how much he wanted to kiss me again – just as much as I wanted him to, if only to banish the nightmare images from my mind. But I worried that if he did, he'd feel guilty afterward, hating himself for not keeping his attention on the mission at hand.
He took a deep breath. “Well, if you're truly prepared to walk headlong into an ambush, then I suppose we'd better outfit you with adequate armor and weapons, eh? Follow me.”
Dhimurs led me to the ship's armory – a room lined with glowing white panels, and row upon row of killing implements on display. I stared at them in awe.
“Valkred has given my people weapons to hunt with in the past, in exchange for some of Macur's natural resources,” I whispered, “but I've never seen anything like these before.”
“That's because the devices we provide to Macurians are outdated surplus military arms,” he explained. “They haven't been used in generations – they've just been sitting in storage facilities, gathering dust. These are far newer and more advanced models, better suited for war.”
“So we give you valuable herbs and minerals, and in exchange, you give us your old trash?”
“The controls on the surplus items are far easier to use,” he explained, a bit defensively, “so they're more suited to your purposes of using them to hunt. Besides, there are strict intergalactic rules and treaties in place with regard to limiting primitive cultures' access to advanced tech and weaponry. That kind of cultural interference can be disastrous, and violating those codes carries severe penalties.”
“Even for the mighty Valkred Empire?”
“Yes, even then.” He chuckled, lifting a pike from its display hooks and handing it to me. “You are largely used to hunting with laser-spears, yes?”
For a moment, I assumed he was making fun of my people's lack of technological advancement again – but when I looked into his eyes, I saw that he was deadly serious. “Yes.”
“Excellent. The principle behind this sonic pike is quite similar.”
He positioned himself behind me carefully, putting his hands over mine to demonstrate the controls on the shaft. As he did, his scent filled my nostrils – earthy and musky, intoxicating, like the fragrant stem of a healthy plant freshly plucked from rich soil. I found myself leaning up against him, enjoying the feel of his solid chest and abs against my back, the tickle of his breath against my ear.
I was so tempted to back up against him even more firmly, so I could feel whether being so close to me aroused him.
But no. I had to concentrate on the matter at hand.
“The diamond-edged blade is deadly enough on its own when wielded by capable hands,” Dhimurs went on, “but its high-frequency vibro-setting allows it to cut more cleanly and efficiently through harder substances, like vehicle armor. There are pulse settings for long-range blasts as well, set to stun, wound, kill, or atomize. The sonics on this particular pike have been further modified in order to scramble mental probes from Valkredians. They were originally calibrated to disrupt the Mana's water-manipulating abilities…”
“But you redesigned this pike to go up against Torqa and the Valkredians who stand with her,” I finished for him.
He nodded. “Ever since her betrayal, I've been preparing to make her pay dearly for her crimes.”
“I hope it's enough.”
“It will be,” he rumbled with grim certainty, pointing at a target mounted on the wall. “Go on, give it a try. Wound setting.”
I raised the pike, aimed it, and pressed the trigger. A bolt of vivid purple energy lashed out, leaving a smoldering hole at the target's center.
“Excellent shot.” Dhimurs sounded surprised.
I turned, my face inches away from his. His gaze was almost hypnotizing. “When a Macurian hunter has a crazed cave troll stampeding toward her,” I said, “she usually only has one shot to bring him down.”
“A valid point.”
The way he was staring at me…
“You're trying to read my mind with your telepathic abilities, aren't you?” I guessed. “To test whether the pike's sonic frequencies work against mental probes.”
“Yes.” His voice was hoarse and breathy.
“And do they?”
“Yes.”
Were our lips getting closer? Were we going to kiss again after all?
“What, exactly, were you trying to find out with your probe?” I asked.
“Whether you believe, as I do, that we are destined to be mates. Do you?”
Now it was my turn to say it. “Yes.”
10
Dhimurs
The sound of that word on her lips made me delirious. I knew I should have been entirely focused on the mission, but in that moment, she was all I wanted.
“Did you always know you wanted me to be your mate?” she asked breathlessly. “All those years, I hoped that you did… I waited for you to come back for me…”
I shook my head gently. “No. When we first met, I had no idea. You were too young. Valkredians are generally incapable of determining who their mates are until a certain age of maturity is reached.”
“Did you ever think of me, at least?”
I took a deep breath. “Yes. There were many times. Battles in which I was forced to do brutal and unthinkable things. Wars that pushed me to the brink. Horrors committed in defense of my planet that forced me question what I had become, whether there was anything good or noble left within me. Times when my entire life felt like a never-ending chain of blood and violence, even when I knew my cause was just. Akzun, the people of Valkred… they celebrated me every time I returned victorious. They called me 'hero.' But I knew I was no hero. Merely a soldier.
“Then I thought of you on Macur, surrounded by your new family, safe from all the strife and despair that wracked the rest of the galaxy. Knowing I was able to do that for you made me feel that there was more to me than dealing out death.”
I was surprised by my own words. I had never said such things out loud to anyone before. Most of the time, I didn't even dare think them for fear that such sentiments might make me weak, and prevent me from doing the bloody things that needed to be done.
Now I had shared my innermost thoughts with her.
“I always knew that you were meant to be my mate,” Judy told me. “From the very first time I saw yo
u on Cexiea.”
“I believe you may have been confusing love with gratitude. I did save your life, after all.”
“No. It was more than that. Before she died on that station, my mother – the one who gave birth to me – had taught me to fear all Valkredians. She’d said that they were only interested in humans as blood slaves. Seeing how Nos, the owner of that club, The Vein, treated her… seeing the way the other Valkredians behaved during auction nights, pawing at the girls, saying vile things to them, bidding on them as though they were objects instead of people… I believed it. I was deeply terrified of your people, even more frightened than I was of the other bizarre and dangerous aliens on Cexiea.
“Then I saw you. The way you looked at me. Even before you reached out to help me, even before you said a word, something inside me knew that you were different. That our hearts had been beating for each other, trying to reach each other, long before we ever actually met.” She laughed, shaking her head. “That probably sounds silly.”
“No,” I replied quietly. “I don't believe it does at all.”
“And now here we are,” she went on, “and I'm in your arms, and all I want is to just give in to how I feel…”
“But there is a part of you that cannot. Because you feel that all of your attention should be on finding and rescuing Ekaid and Lidea, rather than indulging your romantic notions about us.”
“So the pike's frequency didn't work. You can read my thoughts.” The weapon slipped from her fingers, clattering to the floor of the armory.
“I do not require telepathic gifts to understand how you feel, Judy. Notions like honor and sacrifice are all too familiar to me. I've lived by them ever since I was old enough to pick up a weapon and defend the empire.”