Derelict: Halcyone Space, Book 1

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Derelict: Halcyone Space, Book 1 Page 29

by Lj Cohen


  The comm link shut down abruptly and the silence in the bridge was broken only by their harsh breathing.

  "What's code gamma?" Ro asked, keeping her voice to a strained whisper.

  Barre scrambled off Micah and hauled him back into the chair.

  "Weapons fire, thermal, or chemical burns," Barre answered, his voice shaking.

  "What the hell's going on?" Micah asked. He leaned forward and stared at the station in the cracked view screen.

  Ro shivered and folded her arms across her chest. "I don't know." She joined him, looking straight ahead and gasped as two skimmers rose from the station hangar. "There's our welcoming committee."

  "You think?" Micah said, continuing to stare ahead, without blinking, not bothering to track their escorts.

  Ro dropped her head in her hands. "I don't know what to think anymore."

  Chapter 40

  Micah sat, his eyes squeezed shut, hands gripping the arms of the chair to keep from moving as Barre re-bandaged his feet. He didn't need Ro's startled gasp to tell him how bad it looked. The coppery tang of the bloody bandages mingled with the sickly sweetness of infection.

  "I know you probably don't want to hear this now, but the pain is a good sign. It means the burn didn't damage the nerves in your dermis."

  "Thanks," Micah muttered through his clenched jaw. He knew Barre was being as gentle as possible and that once his feet were covered again, some of the pain would ease. And if they weren't being thrown into the brig, real treatment was just moments away. He opened his eyes. "Anything?"

  "No," Ro answered. "They're not answering our comms."

  A crackle of an incoming message startled them all. "Halcyone, this is security detail alpha one and two. Please match speed and vector. Acknowledge."

  They glanced at one another for a moment before Ro shrugged.

  Barre did his musical communion with the AI and Ro set the ship in motion.

  "Security detail alpha one and two, this is Halcyone," she said. "Matching speed and vector."

  "Stand by for tow deployment."

  Two jolts rocked the ship in quick succession. Micah gripped the edge of his chair, but the ship didn't even twitch.

  "Tow lines deployed, Halcyone. See you ground-side."

  "Thank you, security," Ro said. "Please be advised we have an injured party on board who will need transport assistance."

  Micah envied Barre and Ro's smooth choreography as the ship glided down in the wake of the two skimmers. Automatic docking clamps pulled them in with barely a bump. The ship's engines faded. They were home. He blinked and glanced around the bridge. They hadn't even been gone a full solar week.

  "Come on. Let's greet our 'escorts' at the airlock, shall we?" Ro held herself straight and tall, every centimeter a captain, despite the dark smudges beneath her eyes, her lank hair, and the worn and dirty clothes.

  "Aye, aye, Cap," Micah said, summoning a smile from somewhere for her.

  She smirked. "Barre, would you kindly escort our engineer-slash-botanist?"

  "After you," Barre said.

  "No, Doc, after you."

  Barre shoved Micah's chair toward the ruined door.

  "I think she's confused," Micah said in a stage whisper. "Something about the captain going down with the ship. Should we tell her we've already landed?"

  Ro swatted him on his head as they passed her.

  They watched as pressure-suited crew attached a new temporary umbilical to the external hatch.

  "What do you think? Are we under arrest?" Micah asked.

  "Probably not 'we'," Ro said, her face expressionless.

  Two of the station crew stood in the airlock, side arms prominent, but holstered. Micah glanced at Ro. She stared straight ahead, her body at parade rest, but he could read the tension in her shoulders.

  "Barre, open the lock," she said.

  A soft hiss escaped from the door as he broke the seal. The round door swung inward silently on enormous hinges. Two bridge officers nodded to them. "Commander Mendez has requested your presence in her office." Neither made a move for their weapons. That seemed a promising sign.

  "Micah Rotherwood needs medical assistance. He has serious burns on both of his feet and a head wound that needs looking after."

  The taller man turned and waved. "We have transport available. Medical staff will meet him at the commander's office."

  Well, that was that. He looked up at Barre. "Hey, Doc, thanks for everything."

  He glanced down at Micah's feet. "You're crazy, man. You know that?"

  A medic ran through the open airlock with a transport chair and helped Micah scoot over into it. At least it moved more smoothly than the one they'd been using. Barre and Ro fell in beside him and the three of them followed their escorts to command.

  They must have made a strange parade, but the corridors were fairly deserted. It wasn't unusual for mid-shift on the sparsely populated station, but still Micah felt uneasy. He glanced at Barre. At least he'd expected the Doctors Durbin to meet them, if only to triage his injuries.

  What a fucked up mess all their families were.

  Silent guards led them to Mendez's office. Their escorts peeled off and took positions at either side of the door. Even the transporter left. Barre pushed the chair over the threshold.

  The acrid scent of burning synthetics triggered a cough deep in Micah's chest and made his eyes water. "What the hell?" He glanced up into the fierce gaze of Commander Mendez. "Sorry, sir."

  "Ms. Maldonado. Mr. Durbin. Mr. Rotherwood." She made eye contact with each of them before indicating two additional seats.

  "Commander. I don't understand. What's going on?" Ro asked, looking around the burn-scarred walls and floor, her eyes wide. Micah followed her gaze and found a small drying pool of blood by the door. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

  Mendez's micro buzzed softly. "I need to ask for your patience. I only want to go over this once."

  Micah frowned as the door chime sounded.

  "Enter!" Mendez said sharply, and hit the door release.

  "Barre!" Jem's squeal filled the office. Barre turned, his mouth falling open as Jem was wheeled in a chair twin to Micah's. Half of his head was shaved even closer than Jem usually wore it and a z-shaped scar traversed the bald area.

  Barre's face grayed and he grabbed onto the back of Micah's chair to keep from hitting the ground. "Jem!" He stepped over to his brother and knelt at his side, his dreadlocks falling to cover his face as his shoulders shook.

  Micah looked away, embarrassed. At least someone would have a happy reunion.

  He glanced at Ro to share the irony. Her mouth open, she stepped back slowly until she hit the wall behind her. Micah followed her gaze across the room and met Nomi's smiling face.

  Well, shit, he thought, where's my happy ending?

  Mendez cleared her throat and everyone snapped their attention to her. "Commander Targill, thank you for your assistance."

  A large man crowded the room. Targill stood nearly a head taller than Barre and his silver hair gleamed in the soft light. When he turned, Micah shivered at the cold, calculating blue gaze that flickered over his face and dismissed him. It traveled on to take in the damage to the room and the blood on the floor. This was the man he'd tried to make a deal with. If he'd have seen him in action first, he wouldn't have bothered.

  Silent officers glided in with extra chairs for Targill and Nomi. She scooted hers next to Ro.

  Mendez leaned on the edge of her desk in front of the six of them and cleared her throat again. "Thank you for your patience," she said. "Your father is under guard in the med bay. He killed one of my security officers and then shot himself. Unfortunately for him, not fatally."

  Micah slumped against the back of his chair, trying to make sense of her words, and failing.

  "Even without your evidence, he will be tried for this crime." Her mouth hardened to a thin line.

  There were ways to wriggle out of nearly anything if you had the money a
nd power of his father's "friends," but this was the murder of a Commonwealth officer recorded through an impartial AI and duly witnessed.

  "Ms. Maldonado."

  Ro snapped to attention and Nomi's hand slipped from hers.

  "Where is my chief engineer?"

  "Sir, I have no idea."

  Mendez frowned and leaned forward.

  "He was able to escape from Halcyone in a life-pod. We have his last known position and bearing but were unable to follow him."

  "Escape? Explain."

  Micah read her reluctance in the tremor that shook her hands and the tension in the set of her shoulders. She glanced at his face, then down to his bandaged feet. The new dressings were already beginning to seep through.

  Ro stared straight ahead and spoke tonelessly as if she were reading a lab report. "Commander, Chief Engineer Maldonado struck me, shot Micah, sealed Barre and me in the ship's bridge, and imprisoned and tortured Micah with illegal restraints." The room fell utterly silent. "Micah sustained significant burns on his feet escaping from said restraints and freeing us from the bridge."

  "Continue," Mendez said, her arms folded across her chest.

  "We trapped the chief engineer in engineering. He somehow escaped to the life-pods and was able to flee the ship."

  Micah wanted Ro to stop, to break down and cry, to show her rage or her frustration, but she sat locked in a painful stillness he didn't have a clue how to shatter. Nomi lifted a tentative hand toward her. Ro shuddered and looked up at Mendez. Nomi looked away, her hand falling back into her lap.

  "Continue."

  "You'll find the cache of weapons, field rations, medic supplies, and the shock restraints in Halcyone's hold. Enough to start a small war," Ro kept talking in that same emotionless voice. "They were packed under diplomatic seal. Very well forged diplomatic seals."

  Mendez still didn't say anything.

  Ro fell silent as well. Micah caught Barre's gaze and frowned back at him.

  "Commander Mendez," Micah said, drawing all the eyes in the room. He sat up as straight and with as much dignity as the transport chair would allow. "Are we under arrest?"

  "No, Mr. Rotherwood. Is there a reason you should be?"

  Micah exhaled slowly. They could search the ship and maybe they'd find some evidence of bittergreen, but nothing that tied him to the plant. Certainly not intent to distribute, which was as much a move of utmost stupidity, given the cartel, as it was against the Commonwealth codes.

  "Then are we free to go?"

  Mendez frowned and studied each of them in turn. "I'm releasing all of you to medical. When our doctors pronounce you fit, you may return to your quarters."

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ro slump against her chair back. "What about Halcyone?" she asked softly.

  The door chime sounded and Mendez hit the release. A swarm of medical staff wove through the chairs and pulled him and Jem away before he could hear if Mendez answered Ro's question.

  ***

  Jem squeezed Barre's hand. "I'm glad you're not dead. It would have been really awkward to tell Mom and Dad."

  "Right back at you, kid," Barre said. "Hey, I got this." Out in the corridor, he grabbed the transport chair and wrested it from the orderly's hands.

  The motion jerked Jem side to side and he was overcome by a wave of dizziness. He shut his eyes, but that didn't stop the heaving in his stomach or the throbbing that started in his head. "Barre?"

  "What's up?"

  "Can you go easy, okay?"

  "Sure. Everything all right?"

  "Yeah. No problem." He'd tried to use his micro on Hephaestus, but every time he focused in on the display, the same terrible chaos would overwhelm his brain. If he couldn't see, he couldn't program and if he couldn't program, Jem didn't know what he was going to do. He turned his face away so Barre couldn't see tears gathering in his eyes.

  The ride to medical was worse than getting off Hephaestus, not only because of the increasing nausea, but because he knew his parents would be waiting. They would blame Barre, but Jem knew it was his fault.

  Barre patted his shoulder and Jem knew he would do it all again, just the same way, even if he knew how it would turn out.

  ***

  Nomi walked Ro to medical, waiting for Jem and Micah to be transported first. She watched her limp, favoring the left leg in its cracking cast. "Do you need a ride?"

  "I can manage."

  She was quiet, pulled inward. Something had happened in the hours between the time her father came aboard and the return to Daedalus — something more than the bruises she could see on Ro's face. For the thousandth time, Nomi cursed Alain Maldonado and his selfish paranoia.

  Ro seemed to sense Nomi's unease and she turned to her, a half smile on her face. "I'll be fine after a shower and some real food."

  "And coffee?"

  The smile widened. "Most definitely coffee."

  Nomi squeezed Ro's hand at the door to the sick bay. "Come find me when you're done here, okay?"

  Ro squeezed back, but her gaze looked past Nomi's. "I will," she said. Her green eyes shifted and focused again. "Thank you."

  "For what?" Nomi laughed. "You rescued yourselves." She should have known Ro would figure out a way.

  "Knowing you were looking for me —" Ro paused, her face flushed. "It helped. It was important. That we weren't — that I wasn't alone."

  Nomi ducked her head.

  "I promise. I'll find you," Ro said.

  She felt Ro's gaze follow her as she walked the length of the corridor back to her quarters.

  Chapter 41

  They hustled Micah from the transport chair to a medi-bed and pulled the privacy screens down. Dr. Kristoff Durbin stared down at him, frowning, his thick, graying brows nearly masking the ice blue of his eyes.

  "Tell me," he said, as he turned his hands front to back under the sanitizer and slipped into the waiting gloves.

  He shrugged, trying to avoid the full horror of what Maldonado had done to him. "I had to get free. There was a blaster handy. I used it."

  "Cutter," he said, holding out his right hand. A silent, gloved tech placed the thin laser-augmented blade in his sterile palm. "This won't be pleasant. Do you want a sedative?"

  Micah bit his lower lip to keep from laughing. Not pleasant. Right. "No, thank you, sir." No. He wanted to be fully awake and owning the pain and anger for the time he could confront his father. "Just get it over with." He lay back and folded his arm across his eyes.

  "Huh," Dr. Durbin said.

  That was not exactly what Micah wanted to hear.

  "Barre dress this?"

  "Yes, sir." He wanted to add something to push back against the slightly nasal, superior tone in Durbin's voice.

  "He did a good job."

  Micah smirked at the grudging praise. It was too bad Barre couldn't hear him.

  "Hold very still."

  The pain echoed the blast burn, but it wasn't the insidious torture of the shocks. He gritted his teeth and let it sear through him as Durbin sliced the bandages off.

  "I'm afraid we're going to have to cut your pants as well."

  At this point, they could probably get up and walk away on their own. "Knock yourself out, Doc." No, that was Barre. "Doctor Durbin."

  Competent hands turned him and tugged the fabric away as Durbin opened the trouser seams. The technician covered him with a warm blanket.

  "Thank you," Micah said.

  "You're a very lucky man, Mr. Rotherwood. Another few seconds on the trigger and you might well have lost your feet. Without the field bandages, the infection would have spread to your vascular system and would likely have killed you."

  Lucky wasn't how Micah would have put it.

  "Normally, we'd start rebuilding your feet with artificial skin implants right away, but we're going to have to do this in stages."

  Micah levered himself up, leaning on his arms, careful not to look down at his feet. "How long?"

  Durbin blinked. "Until
the lesions are fully healed?"

  "Until I can walk."

  "Sorry, son, but you're going to be off those feet for at least several weeks."

  He stiffened. "Don't call me that."

  "Apologies." Durbin gave a small, formal bow.

  "Accepted."

  "We need to clean out the wounds and deal with the infection first."

  "Do what you have to." Micah lay back again. "Where is my father?"

  "Set up the ultrasonic unit in here," Durbin ordered, ignoring the question.

  The isolation curtain shifted and the hushed sounds of medical orders, conversations, and beeping machines drifted into his cubicle. The technician returned with a tubing kit and quickly assembled it as Durbin waited.

  "Doctor Durbin. Where is he?"

  Durbin sighed. "In the isolation bay."

  "I want to see him."

  "That's up to the commander."

  "Like hell it is. He's still my father. I'm his next of kin. Trust me, I've been down the medical road before. I know what I'm allowed."

  Durbin closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them, he nodded. "Let me clean and seal the tissue first. Then I'll arrange for you to see him."

  "Fine."

  "Hold still."

  Durbin pulled the wand over and gestured to the technician to turn the unit on. A high-pitched hum filled the room and Micah wondered if Barre would be able to tell him what note it sang. He stiffened as the device played over his feet, but other than a strange pulling sensation, it barely hurt.

  "The sealant has antibiotics and analgesics in a time release matrix. It's not pleasant when it touches the damaged nerves, but it will ease. Are you ready?"

  "Just get on with it," Micah said, nearly snarling with impatience. In the end, he regretted not asking for that sedative, but he wasn't going to tell Durbin that. "My father. Take me. Now."

  Durbin frowned down at him. "I'm concerned —"

  Micah swung his newly bandaged legs over the side of the bed. "Doctor, I will be seeing my father now. With or without your help."

  The Doctor narrowed his eyes.

  The blood throbbed in his feet, and the pain nearly made Micah retch, but he focused on his breathing, keeping Dr. Durbin's face in his receding line of sight.

 

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