“I’ll tell you what’s going on. That ‘healer’ in there is an egotistical xenophobe! He won’t save my child because I’m Carnillian and he only helps his own kind. I hope one day I can meet this Jaxx so I can give him a piece of my mind! He has no right to keep his gifts to himself. He has no right not to help other species. He has no right to be this selfish and stubborn and—”
The viewscreen exploded.
Trey woke with a start, his jaw snapping closed onto his tongue. Cursing, he stumbled to the washroom and rinsed his mouth, spitting a glob of pink liquid into the sink.
Jacin’s anger had been so hot, so intense. He’d hated the Carnillian on the screen for accusing him of discrimination. And the power behind the energy he’d used to blow up the viewscreen….
Trey wondered while he ran his wounded tongue softly over his teeth. There had been so much more force, and the action had been so destructive. Could anger be a trigger?
Trey made a mental note to speak to his brother about changing his sessions—focusing more on emotional outbursts—when he remembered Daith, unconscious in the medical wing, unable to do anything.
If he lost her right when he might know how to control her….
A flash of panic hit him and he left his quarters.
I just want to make sure she’s okay, he thought. Trey’s heart rate slowed only when he arrived at medical and saw the steady, rhythmic breathing of her chest.
Then her eyelids fluttered.
*
“Doctor Ludd? I think she’s waking up. Daith? Daith can you hear me?”
I don’t know—can I?
“Daith?”
The voice reached Daith’s ears slowly, as if traveling through a syrupy substance. She struggled to the surface of consciousness, then opened her eyes, which felt more like prying than opening. Focus came slowly.
“Where…?” Her head felt heavy, her mouth dry. She didn’t recognize her surroundings. The room was bright with white walls. A curtain hung around part of her bed, white and rippled. Everything smelled clean—too clean. Sterile.
“Easy, now. Go slow,” the voice said.
Daith’s gaze rested on Trey’s face, soft with concern. She tried to push herself up, but he gently held her back.
“You need to rest. You’re in the medical wing. Doctor Ludd is your attending physician. He should be here shortly to start you on some medication.”
Daith nodded, unable to speak until her salivary glands moistened her mouth.
Trey sat on the edge of the creaky bed. “Do you remember what happened?”
Flashes of her session in the simulation room flickered through her mind—the particle, the star, the intense heat inside her. “Where’s Dru?” Daith asked, her voice cracking.
Trey frowned. “Dru’s in his office, going over what happened during the simulation. He’s trying to understand why you passed out.”
“Oh.” She dropped her gaze from Trey’s, disappointed.
“Dru sometimes gets more wrapped up in the results of his tests than in his patients.” He took her hand. “I’m here though. I came right away.” He tightened his hand on hers for a moment before letting go. “Ah—here’s the doctor now to give you something to help, right Doctor?”
Dr. Ludd swallowed hard, his lipless mouth a tight line. He took her arm and injected a syrupy brown liquid.
Daith’s world dimmed. Her vision tunneled. A sensation of falling settled over her, even though she knew she was lying down. She struggled to stay awake, to ask questions, but her eyelids closed against her will.
“Monitor her closely, Doctor,” she heard Trey say in a swirl of overlapping syllables. “And remember, you have less than three weeks to get her back on her feet.”
Daith’s last moment of consciousness centered around Dr. Ludd, his words so loud they sounded like they were in her head. I’m so sorry, child. For everything.
*
Trey headed toward Dru’s quarters to update him on Daith’s condition and see what progress he’d made with her charts. Hopefully he’d figured out a way to tweak the safety parameters of his program for when she recovered.
If she recovered.
You are killing her. The thought spiked into his brain. He knew the girl’s outcome could result in death, but he would do what he could to prevent that. And he’d known she was expendable from the beginning. She had to be.
But you care about her.
Trey stopped cold outside Dru’s room. Care? An absurd thought. And yet seeing her lying on the bed in the medical wing, helpless….
Trey bit the inside of his cheek, hard. He used the pain to block his emotions. He straightened and strode into the room without ringing the chimes. Dru, still hunched over his computer console, didn’t notice Trey’s entrance. Trey cleared his throat and grinned inwardly when Dru jumped.
“I hate when you do that.”
“Old habits die hard, I suppose,” Trey said. “I thought you might want an update on Daith’s condition.”
“Of course. How is she?”
“She’ll be fine. In fact, the doctor said with some medication, she should be back and ready to go in about three weeks.”
Dru rubbed the back of his neck. “Really? I should probably go check on her. I’ve been here all day.”
“It’s tomorrow, brother.”
Dru rubbed his face and glanced at his timereader. “It’s…tomorrow?”
“Technically, yes. But don’t worry. I’ve come from visiting her and she’s sleeping. I’ll let you know when she’s awake, if you want to see her then,” Trey replied. “You need to continue to calculate these results and let me know what else happened with this young lady.”
“All right.”
“Good. When will you have this compiled into a report for me?” Trey asked.
“By morning. I only have a few more details to go over.”
“Goodnight, then.” Trey left his brother’s room and as he strode down the corridor, unwanted thoughts once again crept into his mind.
She isn’t Riel, you know.
Trey ignored the thought, determined not to take the bait.
You can’t have her anyway.
Trey quickened his pace, hoping his steps would drown out his thoughts.
Why do you care so much if Dru goes to visit her?
I don’t care, he countered, denying the accusation. There is no reason for him to go see her. She’s sleeping.
So then where’s the harm in letting him check in on her? his thoughts argued back.
He needs to get that report done.
She is probably going to be in and out of consciousness for the next couple of weeks. He has plenty of time to finish his report.
Trey felt himself getting angry. He can go when he’s finished.
No sweets until your chores are done, right Trey?
“Enough.” Trey said the word out loud. A moment later, a young cadet came around the corner.
“Excuse me, Commander,” the cadet said, skirting out of the way.
Trey nodded, realizing he’d almost been caught in a moment of weakness. He arrived at his own quarters and sat quickly before his knees gave way. Keeping control was getting harder.
*
Dru waited a few moments after his brother left before slipping out of his office and heading toward the medical office. He didn’t care what Trey said, he wanted to check on Daith anyway.
Once inside, Dru stood by her bed and watched as mechanical monitors reassured him she slept peacefully. With a slow movement, Dru placed his hand upon hers. The monitor remained steady.
“I’m here,” he whispered. “You’re not alone.”
Though the beeps stayed even, Daith’s mouth smiled.
Chapter 14
Trey’s body slumped with exhaustion. He’d gone over several spec sheets down in engineering, scrutinized the new cadet assessments, made a quick check on Daith, scanned through power efficiency levels for shielding capabilities, restocked his dream-deflec
tor supply from Dr. Ludd—although he didn’t think he really needed them anymore—and crammed the rest of his cold, half-eaten lunch down his throat for dinner before he kicked off his boots, pulled off his shirt and pants, and slid into bed.
The moment he began to drift away, eager to view another tidbit of Jacin’s life, a loud alarm blared through his communications panel followed by a jolt that raced through the ship. The panel on his wall lit up. He jumped out of bed and hit the button on the wall, cursing as he slammed his finger into it.
“Commander Xiven to the bridge crew. Status?”
A crisp female voice responded. “This is Cadet Ikar. We need you on the bridge, Commander. We are under attack.”
“On my way,” Trey said, shaking his throbbing finger while trying to pull on the freshly pressed uniform ready for the following day. I wish I hadn’t dumped my clothes from today on the floor. I’ll have to remember to wash and press them before morning. Trey ground his teeth at what he’d been diminished to—two uniforms for the whole week. He used to have his choice of three uniforms a day—daily and ceremonial.
He reminded himself the situation was temporary. Things would be back to the way they used to be soon enough.
Trey emerged onto the circular bridge, still a little hazy, and assessed the situation. He scanned the semi-vacant surroundings, the low metallic ceiling, the shiny, circular, center-facing empty consoles around the room. Three crewmembers worked on duty that night: a pilot, one to run tactical, and one to command. The bridge normally ran with eight crewmembers.
“Report,” he called out. Another shudder ran through the ship. He strode toward the center of the room, relieving a blond man. He plunked into a plush chair, surrounded by six screens.
A bronze-skinned woman at the piloting console turned her attention to Trey. She answered with the same crisp voice he’d heard earlier in his room.
“We are being attacked by an unidentified ship. I believe they are targeting energy signatures. Aim seems to be fluctuating between our engine room, weapons, and medical. They cannot get an exact energy lock, but the minimal power behind their attack suggests they only mean to cripple us, Commander.” The ship lurched again and her amber-colored eyes flicked back to her console.
“Pirates.”
Trey swiveled around. The voice behind him belonged to the blond man, Cadet Malco Pitar. A tinge of pink touched his pockmarked cheeks, but he regained his composure and went on with the report.
“Shields down to thirty-five percent efficiency,” Cadet Pitar continued, running his fingers over the console in front of him. “We’ve lost main engines, but backup generators are holding. Our forward weapons have been destroyed. Aft weapons are taking heavy damage.”
“Disconnect us from the spaceport. Evasive maneuvers,” Trey said.
“I wonder how they found us?” Cadet Pitar murmured.
Trey wondered that himself. Pirates usually worked alone, stationing themselves close to trading planets or along familiar trading routes. They preyed on smaller ships, crippling them, boarding them, and taking whatever, and sometimes whomever, they could find. Why were they out here in the middle of nowhere attacking a ship attached to a spacestation?
Trey touched a small button on his chair. In a flash, the six viewscreens adjusted to his eye level.
The ship itself, shaped like stackable crosses, had digital viewing stations attached at six points. These stations relayed their images back to the screens where each showed a different view of space surrounding the ship. With visibility from six angles, the crew could see objects without reorienting the craft. To see something on a larger scale, he simply had to touch one of the smaller screens and the image would be enlarged on the main viewscreen at the front of the bridge.
Taking a deep breath, Trey felt the tension in his body melt as he exhaled. Opening his eyes, he began to work.
He zoomed in on an oval-shaped ship turning to make another pass. The vessel carried no name on its deep blue side, only jagged streaks of silver where the metal underneath shone through. The paint job didn’t worry Trey, but rather the double set of Droibid cannons hanging from either side of the ship. The weapons could dole out massive fire power, which meant the pirates would not need to accept any terms except the ones they offered.
Cadet Ikar had been doing an excellent job avoiding most of the oncoming fire, but Trey knew he’d have to think of something else soon because his ship’s shields were dropping at an incredible rate.
“Cadet Ikar, initiate our sensor-damping shield to jam their sensors.”
With their sensors blocked, the other ship wouldn’t be able to pinpoint any of the Horizon’s systems. And since Trey’s ship appeared exactly the same all around, the oncoming ship wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between an engine signature and a luxury suite. A desperate move, since it meant the other ship would be firing at random, but Trey needed every opportunity he could get to keep them off his weapons.
Cadet Ikar acknowledged. After the damping field initiated, Trey felt pressure on his body, like being compressed.
Another tremble made its way through the ship, followed by a shuddering.
Trey glanced at Lieutenant Koye, who worked the tactical and weapons console.
“Aim for their cannons, Lieutenant. I need them out of commission.” The ship shook again. Trey tightened his grip on the arms of his chair.
“Yes, Commander.” Lieutenant Koye answered without the slightest hint of panic in his voice. His fur-covered chest swelled before he started to fire.
Panic was evident, though, in the young officer. His scarred face gave him a gruff exterior, but his voice cracked when he spoke.
“Shields are down to twenty-two percent,” he told Trey. “I don’t think we can take more than two direct hits.” He blew his pale hair from his sweaty forehead, his fingers gliding over his console.
“Get more power to those shields,” Trey barked.
“I’m doing what I can, Commander. She’s not equipped to handle—”
“I don’t want excuses.” Anger tinged Trey’s tone, though his face remained neutral.
Cadet Pitar’s stance straightened before he spoke again. “I’ve rerouted power from the engines and boosted shield intensity by forty-two percent. We won’t be able to outrun them, but this should give us the time we need.”
“Good work,” Trey said. A light at his communications station blinked. Trey activated the comm. “Xiven here.”
“This is Lieutenant Byot in engineering. We lost power to the engines. What’s going on up there?”
“Needed it for shields. Stand by.”
“But, Commander, we—”
“Commander,” Cadet Pitar interrupted, his black eyes wide with alarm. “The pirates fired on our main engineering section. They’ve disrupted our engine power. We have no shields!”
Trey mentally cursed. They had lost. But he couldn’t let this ship fall to pirates. Before he could shout another order, a message came in from the attacking ship. A crackly voice rang through the bridge, its language badly garbled by the translator.
“We know…hiss… of your engines and shields…hiss… have no power.
“Prepare…hiss… being boarded.”
Trey gritted his teeth, knowing full well he would blow up his ship before he’d let pirates board. Paranoid thoughts gripped him. What if they knew about Daith and were coming to get her? What if they knew about his plan? Trey’s gaze darted around the bridge, assessing the other crew members.
We lost this too easy. They set me up. This was all a trap. Trey clenched his fists, willing the thoughts away. No. It’s all in your head. Everything is fine.
Everything is FINE.
The main screen changed, showing the oval-shaped ship approaching the side of the Horizon. Trey’s dark blue eyes flashed. They think they are going to dock with us….
“Cadet Ikar. Divert power to the back-up generators from the damping field when they approach. But don’t angle our
docking port on the first level toward them. Tilt the ship as if they need to dock at our third level.”
“Isn’t that where our viewing system is?”
“Do it.”
Trey didn’t even consider his plan could go wrong. He had one shot to destroy those pirates and he had to take it, no matter the outcome. His crew wasn’t large enough to handle a boarding. He turned to Lieutenant Koye and quietly gave him an order. A growl trembling in Koye’s throat spilled out and his lips curled into a fiendish grin.
Trey signaled Cadet Ikar to reconnect them with the pirates.
“Very well. We submit.” Trey waited, all the while watching them on his viewscreen, angled straight into the front of his attacker’s vessel. He held until they’d pulled up, nearly to the point of extending their boarding clamps.
“Koye—fire!”
A jolt raced through the bridge as their aft weapons fired. The energy from the exploding ship ripped through Trey’s vessel, shorting out systems all over the bridge. The console next to Trey sparked wildly. An arc of electricity slithered up his arm. To his left, Cadet Pitar writhed on the floor, having taken a direct blast of electricity. Flames licked the front of his uniform. Trey called out to Lieutenant Koye to notify Dr. Ludd they had a medical emergency on the bridge. The blond youth’s mouth hung open in shock. The upper right side of his charred chest burned a sickly, smoky black. Warning alarms rang and flashing lights momentarily blinded the bridge crew. Trey slammed his hand on the console behind him, turning off the lights and alarms.
Eomix Galaxy Books: Illusion Page 9