The Chains of Freedom (Starhawke Rising Book 2)

by Audrey Sharpe

  Of course, if she ventured away from the compound, that coloring would make her a target for Drakar’s predators. But Aurora did not need protection from the creatures of his world. She could handle herself just fine. And he would never allow any harm to come to her.

  His emotional state must have telegraphed to her empathic senses, because her attention shifted from the conversation she was having with his mother and Celia. She gave him a quizzical look, her brows drawing together in a tiny frown. She seemed vaguely uncomfortable, but she did not look away. Neither did he.

  His father’s voice broke the connection. “We need to talk.”

  Jonarel glanced at him, irritated at the interruption.

  His father’s knowing look did not help matters. “Join me in my study after the meal.”

  He knew what topic they would be discussing. She was sitting across the table. And she had shifted her attention away from him to his mother. He bit back a growl of frustration.

  After the feast wound down and the rest of the crew, including Aurora, had returned to the ship, Jonarel walked the short distance to his family’s dwelling. The trees that formed the exterior had matured over the centuries, and the enveloping structure had grown with them, adding vertical levels to accommodate the changing needs of the extended family.

  Jonarel’s chamber was located on the upper level, which he had loved as a child. He had spent countless nights lying on his back, looking up through the oculus in the ceiling to catch glimpses of the stars above the canopy. He had stared until dawn on the night his father had accepted a position as the head of the Astrophysics department at the Galactic Academy on Earth.

  Jonarel’s parents had offered him the option of remaining with the clan. They had mistakenly thought it might be difficult for him to leave Drakar. But they had been wrong. His entire life he had dreamed of traveling off-planet and exploring the galaxy. His father’s decision had been an unexpected gift.

  But he had not counted on Aurora. Or on the plans his father and Admiral Schreiber had for her future. When his father had first asked him to befriend Aurora, he had not given a reason for the request. But the admiration his father had expressed for his most talented student and her many accomplishments had been reason enough for Jonarel.

  He had learned that Aurora often hiked one of the trails near the Academy in the early morning hours, so he had planned a route that would intersect hers. By a twist of fate, when he had arrived at the spot where their paths would cross, he had discovered three ruffians from the local town passed out after a night of drinking. He had decided to take advantage of the opportunity to learn how Aurora reacted to conflict. He could have slipped past the boys easily without drawing attention, but he had purposely made noise to rouse them instead. Predictably, they had viewed him as easy prey, since at the time he had been the size of a human child of seven or eight.

  He had kept their attention on him while he listened for the sound of Aurora’s footsteps approaching from the opposite direction. From the information his father had provided about her character, he had expected her to confront the bullies. He had not counted on her risking her life to save him when one of the boys had suddenly shoved him over the cliff edge. Or that the resulting fall and rockslide would force her to reveal her secret ability to manipulate matter and energy.

  That moment had changed everything. Until then, he had been more than willing to go along with whatever his father had planned, viewing the entire situation as a science experiment. But as he had gazed into Aurora’s dirt-smeared face and seen the fear of discovery in her beautiful green eyes, the urge to protect her had overwhelmed him. He had become her ally and friend, pledging to guard her secret with his life.

  As a result, the past thirteen years had been a continual struggle as he walked a tightrope between his loyalty to his clan and his loyalty to Aurora. Most of the time the two sides were in alignment. After all, his parents loved Aurora almost as much as he did. How could they not? He had told them about her heroic efforts to save his life, but her innate charm and compassion would have won them over without that added incentive. It was one reason she had easily convinced her friends to join the Starhawke crew, even though it meant leaving their posts in the Galactic Fleet. Very few people said no to Aurora Hawke.

  Except one. Heat seared his chest. One man had dared to turn his back on Aurora. Jonarel would gladly slit Cade Ellis wide open for the pain he had caused her. But Aurora would never allow it. She had made that very clear at the Academy when he had tried to do just that, and she had reiterated her position on Gaia when Ellis had unexpectedly reappeared in their lives. That had been an unpleasant surprise, one that had placed a strain on Jonarel’s self-control.

  He reached the arched entrance to the house and the doors parted in invitation. Needing to burn off some energy, he bypassed the open-air lift in favor of the winding staircase, moving as quickly and silently as possible, a habit he had developed as soon as he had been old enough to climb the planks alone.

  He reached the upper landing and walked to the doorway to his father’s study. He had patterned the entrance to Aurora’s office after this one, the gracefully curving panels and the rich brown of the wood grain practically glowing from within as the doors opened to reveal the compact room.

  He had always loved his father’s study, with the solid desk that faced the entrance and the high-backed chair behind. The branches of the tree that gave form to the space had been coaxed into creating natural shelves for his father’s collection of family mementos. The wooden chess set Jonarel had carved for him held a place of honor on a table beneath the room’s only window.

  Jonarel had given a portable version of the same set to Aurora for her eighteenth birthday. She had introduced him to the game during their days at the Academy. He had been fascinated by the history and mathematical quality of the game and had quickly developed into a skilled player. But Aurora was always a worthy opponent. She approached chess from a more intuitive sense, and could be unpredictable in her methods. They both loved the challenge of facing off against each other.

  During the two years Jonarel had been living on Drakar and working on the Starhawke, he and his father had spent many nights seated on opposite sides of the chessboard. His father had appreciated the game’s intricacies as much as he had. Jonarel had been forced to adapt his playing style, however, since he was used to Aurora’s more unconventional approach. His father thought more like him, and had quickly learned to anticipate his strategies.

  His father came around the desk, pulling him into a loving embrace before stepping back and resting his hands on Jonarel’s shoulders. “Are you well, my son?”

  It was a question his father would not have asked in front of the crew. But as a parent, he would want to know. Jonarel nodded. “Yes, I am very well, father.”

  “I am glad to hear it.” His father folded his arms over his broad chest and leaned against the edge of the desk. “And how is Aurora? She looks happy.”

  “She is.” Although she had faced more challenges on Gaia than he cared to remember.

  “She has taken to her captain’s role with grace.”

  “Would you expect anything less?”

  His father shook his head. “Of course not. She was born to lead.” His expression darkened. “I heard from Will.”

  His father was the only person Jonarel knew who called Admiral Schreiber by his first name. Aurora had not received any word from the Admiral since they had left Gaia. She was also under orders not to contact him until their mission was completed. The Admiral feared that his communications were being monitored, and he had not wanted to risk revealing Aurora’s whereabouts.

  The Admiral and Jonarel’s father, however, had set up a system of coded communications years ago that allowed them to keep each other informed without the hazard of discovery. Even if someone intercepted one of their messages, it would look like a personal message between old friends, nothing of importance.

  “The decoy ship
disappeared.”

  A couple of Kraed swear words sprang to mind, but Jonarel kept them in out of respect for his father. This was not good news for Aurora. Or the Lumians. “Does the Admiral have any idea what happened to it?”

  “Unfortunately, no. The ship abruptly shut down all communications. The Elders sent the Fasnaborel to investigate, but they were unable to locate any trace of the ship. Someone set a trap to capture it.”

  “Setarips?”

  His father shook his head. “Doubtful. This was a precision strike with no evidence left behind. Setarips could not pull that off. Not without help.”

  “Which was also true for the attacks on Gaia.” Aurora’s supposition that someone else was involved appeared to be correct. “Does the Admiral know who is behind the attacks?”

  “Not yet. And that concerns me.”

  It concerned Jonarel, too. The Kraed had been the acknowledged power in the galaxy for their entire interstellar history. Even the warring Setarips gave them a wide berth. But this new challenger could pose a legitimate threat. “Does the Admiral have a plan?”

  “For now, getting the Lumians settled somewhere he and the rest of the Council will not find them.” His father’s gaze grew speculative. “How is Aurora handling the realization of her true heritage?”

  “With grace, as you would expect. She is eager to help the Lumians. And excited about the new settlement.”

  “So she does not yet understand her importance?”

  Jonarel stiffened. His father loved Aurora, but sometimes he talked about her like she was a chess piece. It was an attitude that made Jonarel’s claws itch. “She knows she is important to the Lumians. And they are devoted to her. Right now she is focused on helping them. She does not have time to contemplate what else is at stake.”

  “Good. The longer she remains unaware of the true circumstances, the easier it will be to achieve our goals.”

  Irritation gave way to a flame of anger. He ground his teeth together. “Do not talk about her as if she does not have feelings, father.”

  Genuine surprise showed on his father’s face, and a trace of hurt. “I know she has feelings. I love her. And respect her.” He frowned. “But you act as though something has changed. It has not. We have been on the same path since the day you confirmed her identity.”

  “I know. And I have regretted it ever since.”

  His father’s expression clouded. “Regretted it?” He spread his arms wide. “How can you be angry about this? You want her. That has been clear since the beginning. One day you will pair bond with her and everything else will fall into place.”

  “And what if she does not want that same future?” He hated the words, but they had to be said. “What if she chooses something else?” Or someone else.

  The hard look in his father’s eyes was all the answer he needed. “This is bigger than her. Bigger than either of you. The Elders have decided. She must become a part of our clan, Jonarel. There are no other options.”

  “No other options?” The feral side that lived just under the surface of his skin roared at the implied threat to the woman he loved. “She is not some pawn in your chess game!”

  He expected his father to roar right back. He didn’t. “You are correct.”

  For one moment, hope flared.

  But his father’s expression did not change. “She is not a pawn. She never was.” His father crossed the room and picked something up off the table.

  When Jonarel saw what his father held in his hand, his body went cold.

  “She is the queen, Jonarel. The most powerful piece in the game. And we cannot win without her.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  JUSTIN BYRNES SLAPPED a hand over his mouth to hide his smile. He certainly didn’t want the teens to think he was laughing at them. But the fall Sparw had just taken off the stealth pod as he’d tried to make a banking turn had rolled the teenager like a tumbleweed. Not that it mattered. He’d popped right back up.

  Justin trotted over to where the boy stood.

  Dirt covered Sparw from the top of his coffee-colored hair to the toes of his boots, but his brown eyes sparkled as he brushed himself off. “Not right.” He flashed a smile.

  Justin grinned back. Nice to know the kid wasn’t beating himself up about the fall. “Not exactly. But you’re getting there.” They walked to where the pod had stopped. “Give it another try.”

  The boy nodded and straddled the pod once more, tucking his feet into the toeholds on either side. Raaveen and Paaw watched from their own pods, their arms draped over the handgrips. They’d both completed the maneuver successfully, and they called out words of encouragement as Sparw accelerated the pod and began the curving arc that would bring him back in their direction.

  This time he maintained control of the pod, with only a few wobbles as he came out of the turn and raced back to the waiting group.

  “Great job!” Justin gave the kid a high-five, a gesture he’d taught them while they’d been working together digging the irrigation for the greenhouse. He’d made a point of encouraging a sense of fun and playfulness, and it was paying off. Laughter was now a regular occurrence at the campsite, usually from the children, although even some of the adults had surprised him with a chuckle or two.

  When he’d first met them on Gaia, smiles were unheard of, let alone laughter. In fact, many of the adults had barely spoken. But the longer they remained on Burrow, the more everyone looked and acted like a gregarious family.

  Getting past the language barrier had been huge. He was continuing to refine the translation protocols he’d written, working in the nuances of their language as best he could, but his team could now communicate freely with everyone. Raaveen, Paaw and Sparw had put a lot of effort into learning Galish, which meant he didn’t even need his translator most of the time.

  Of course, it helped that he was learning their language, too. It had a very lyrical quality that was pleasing to the ear, with long vowel sounds and a softness to the way the words were spoken that made everything they said sound like an endearment or lullaby. Getting the accent right was his biggest challenge, but he was working on it.

  He’d also learned the name of their race. Suulh. The root was related to their word for peace, which spoke volumes for how they had developed as a species. So very different from humans, and yet physically almost identical. He still liked the term Lumians, because they were a race of bright spirits, but he was making the switch to calling them Suulh.

  The teens gazed at him expectantly, waiting for their next instructions.

  “You’re getting the knack of guiding the pods individually. Now I’d like to see if you can do it as a team.” He gestured to Raaveen. “I want you to fly point.” He created a triangle with his index fingers and thumbs. “With Paaw and Sparw on either side but slightly behind you.” He pointed to a spot about fifty meters away where several large boulders formed a natural wall. “Head in that direction. Make the same arc that you just did, but do it while holding formation.”

  The teens gazed at each other for a moment in silent communication. He could almost hear their thoughts.

  “Don’t worry about being perfect. In fact, this first time, the important thing is to not run into each other. Raaveen, you’re in charge of setting the pace and telling the others when to begin the turn. Go easy, and don’t rush it.”

  Raaveen’s dark eyes revealed her excitement. It was a welcome change from the sadness that had haunted her for so long.

  The trio set off on the pods. As they began their approach, he could tell they weren’t going to make it at the angle they’d chosen. They figured that out as they started the turn and nearly collided. He waited to see what they’d do.

  Raaveen led them back about halfway then turned them to try again. This time the angle was perfect, and they made the turn successfully. Paaw swung a little wide and Sparw lagged behind, but it was an impressive achievement for beginners.

  He’d expected them to return to his end of t
he small gully and stop, but they didn’t. Instead, Raaveen began leading them into another turn, and then another, weaving up and down the channel in ovals and figure eights that grew increasingly tighter and more focused. They executed a final hairpin turn and then barreled down the open space to where he stood. When they stopped in front of him, all three wore matching smiles of triumph.

  “We did well!” Paaw shared a high-five with Raaveen.

  He chuckled. Their enthusiasm was infectious. “Yeah. You caught on quickly.” He folded his arms loosely over his chest. “We’ll call it for today, but tomorrow we’ll take the pods out on open ground. You’re ready for a new challenge.”

  “Thank you. Good teacher.” Raaveen nodded at him.

  He smiled. That was something else about the Suulh. They were the most generous beings he’d ever encountered. They always showed gratitude and offered assistance. Which made the captivity and abuse they’d suffered from the Setarips that much harder to take.

  Setarips were high on his personal hit list anyway, since they had no problem inflicting death and destruction on anyone they encountered if it served their purposes. However, they spent far too much effort trying to exterminate each other in their civil war to have masterminded the heinous plan that had led to the Suulh’s presence on Gaia.

  Which meant someone else was out there pulling the strings. He sincerely hoped that Admiral Schreiber’s next assignment for the Elite Unit would be to uncover the identity of the mystery guest at the party and haul them to the Galactic Council so that justice could be served.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  AURORA SLEPT LIKE THE DEAD. When the gentle alarm roused her, it took her a moment to get her bearings. Her cozy cabin looked the same, but the light was all wrong.

  Then it hit her. This was the first time she’d seen sunlight flowing through the starports, rather than distant starlight. It cast a dappled glow over everything it touched, creating strange shadows that made familiar objects look slightly surreal. When they’d landed yesterday she hadn’t paid attention to how different the ship’s interior looked when lit from the outside.