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Daybreak

Page 9

by Cheree Alsop


  She found his torrential thoughts the same way she had felt his pain. It bombarded her on each side, sorrow, frustration, grief, heartache, and a feeling of utter loss.

  Let me cover it, she said. You need to rest.

  Devren hesitated, then gave a small nod.

  Covering emotions felt almost the same as she had with the pain. Liora pulled instead of pushed, and the emotions cascaded over her in a tidal wave.

  Tariq was right. The loss of blood had been a factor, weakening Devren’s body until he could no longer keep the emotions at bay. The feelings of loss from his father shook through her to the point that she could barely breathe. She could feel how much strength it had taken him to step into his father’s shoes and see his crew through the attack.

  Breathe, she said into his mind. Sleep.

  She could feel Devren’s muscles loosen. Tariq helped him lay down while she concentrated. She lost track of time until Tariq touched her on the shoulder.

  “He’s sleeping,” the officer whispered.

  Liora carefully released her hold. The emotions eased, settling from her into his resting state. The relief of letting go escaped her lips in a sigh.

  “Come on,” Tariq said in a hushed voice.

  He helped her from the bed and led her down the hall. The batter of emotions had left her exhausted. He kept a gentle grip on her arm as if he guessed as much, but when she glanced at it, he dropped his hand.

  “What did you do?” he asked.

  She looked at him from the corner of her eye. “It’s nothing.”

  “Don’t do that.”

  At his frustrated tone, she met his gaze. “Do what?”

  “Act like that was nothing.” He motioned back toward Devren’s room. “He’s asleep. I’ve been up with him for half the night. I didn’t think he’d ever sleep again the way he was. He said he thought you could help him, and you did it without saying anything.”

  Devren had taken Liora speaking in his mind without overreacting. For some reason, she worried about what Tariq would think. He was cut from a different cloth than his friend. He seemed more practical, yet stronger in other ways. She didn’t know what he would say, and it bothered her that it worried her. She never cared what anyone thought.

  The best she could do would be to tell him the truth, but that was the last thing she wanted him to know. Far too often people had come to see her act at Malivian’s circus, to feel her mind push at them on Malivian’s command, to surprise and scare them with her strange ability, only to have their awe turn into terror. She didn’t want Tariq to look at her like they did when she was done. The fear and loathing she thought she had gotten used to were something she didn’t think she could handle from him. Admitting that scared her.

  “Tariq, I…” She lowered her gaze. “Can we talk about it later? My head is pounding.”

  It was the truth. Between Malivian’s beating and helping Devren, she had ended up with a headache the size of Titus.

  Tariq watched her carefully for a moment. “Sure,” he finally said.

  He walked with her quietly back to her room and waited outside for the door to close. When it did, Liora leaned against it. Her whole life had changed. She had started over completely when she stepped back on board the Kratos. It left her open and vulnerable in ways she had never been. It was a scary thought, and one that spun in her mind when she settled back on the blankets on the ground.

  “Liora?”

  She sat up again at the sound of Tariq’s voice.

  “Yes?” she asked.

  “Can I come in?” He paused, then asked, “Are you decent?”

  She looked around quickly, but there was nothing to hide and no reason to do so. She wore the only clothing she owned, and there wasn’t anything else in the room.

  Feeling foolish, she said, “Yes.”

  The door beeped when Tariq set his hand to it, and the officer stepped in. His eyebrows pulled together at the sight of her on the floor.

  “You know, the beds here aren’t so bad.”

  Liora lowered her gaze at the question in his voice. “It’s too soft,” she said.

  He sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at her. “I guess after the floor of a cage, anything would be too soft.”

  It was hard to tell the direction of his thoughts by his tone.

  Silence settled between them.

  Liora finally broke it. “Did you need something?”

  “Huh? Oh, yes.” He held out the object in his hand. “I brought you this.”

  She accepted the bag of frozen drak berries and gave it an uncertain look.

  “You shouldn’t have,” she said.

  That brought a small smile to Tariq’s lips that quickly disappeared. “It’s for your bruises. Here.” He took the bag and pressed it carefully to her face. “It’ll help the swelling go down.”

  “It looks pretty bad, huh?” she asked, reaching up to hold the bag on her own.

  “Like you ran into a wall. You really should watch where you’re going.”

  Liora laughed and caught herself, surprised at her reaction. “They appear out of nowhere.”

  “Like trained Damaclans.” Tariq’s blue eyes showed a spark of humor when he said, “It’s a different sort of joke when a Damaclan is actually in the room.”

  “I’ve never heard it as a joke before.”

  “Really?” He sounded surprised. “It’s used when someone’s being super stealthy and…” He paused. “Now you’re the one joking.”

  She leaned back against the bed with a smile. “Gotcha.”

  He huffed and rose to his feet. “Yeah, you did.” He ran a hand over his face, pushing his tangled black hair back from his eyes. “I’d better get some sleep or I’m going to be no good in the morning.”

  “Same here,” Liora replied. She glanced at him. “Although, I’ve got no idea what I’m actually doing here.”

  “On this ship?” Tariq asked. At her nod, he said, “Wall security. Keep them from jumping out at people.”

  She shook her head. “You’re ridiculous.”

  He nodded. “I’ve been told that.” He walked to the door and waited for it to slide open. He glanced back at her, his expression indecipherable. “I’ll make sure the palm reader gets reprogrammed in the morning so my print gets removed. You should probably keep the riffraff out.”

  The door closed behind him. Liora laid back on the blankets and pressed the frozen berries to her face. It was a long time before she fell asleep in the strange room that was now hers.

  Chapter 9

  Liora awoke to Duncan’s voice over the intercom.

  “Officer Day, your presences is requested on the bridge.”

  “I’ll be right there,” she said.

  She splashed water on her face and ran the comb she found in the bathroom drawer through her hair. She liked how much easier it was to handle since Shathryn had cut it.

  Devren and the rest of the bridge crew were already there when she arrived.

  Devren gave her a grateful smile and gestured toward the monitor.

  “The planet matching the coordinates from the Coalition missive is in sight, but Officer O’Tule found a ship near our drop point,” Devren told her. “We relayed the information to Colonel Lefkin. He ordered us to destroy all Revolutionaries with extreme hostility.”

  Liora wondered what that had to do with her summons. She didn’t have any expertise in neutralizing enemies or planet surveillance.

  Devren nodded at O’Tule. “Pull the ship up on the screen.”

  The craft appeared to be a Copper Crow in poor repair. The name ‘Star Chaser’ had been painted in a fine hand along the hull. The ship sat heavily to one side and battle damage was evident along the starboard flank.

  “Do you see anything you recognize?” Devren asked quietly.

  Liora studied the sides of the ship as O’Tule made a sweep. There was nothing special to make the Revolutionary craft stand out, except—

  “Wait, go back.�
� Liora pointed at an image on the screen. “Can you focus on that?”

  O’Tule brought up the symbol painted near the loading doors. The screen focused on the red pickax with a circle around it.

  Memories of the same symbol tattooed on the forearms of heavily muscled men surfaced in her mind.

  “I remember them,” she said quietly. “They aren’t soldiers.”

  Devren waited beside her without speaking.

  “They came to the circus once.” Liora thought of the wonder in the eyes of the children who ran through the tents as if they couldn’t get enough of what they were seeing. Mothers followed close behind with the men lingering to view the stranger exhibits. “They’re a huge family. I wonder what brought them out here.”

  “Pull back,” Devren told O’Tule.

  She did so and swept the area around the craft. The camera paused on indentations in the sandy ground.

  “A group left the ship.” Devren’s brow furrowed. “We haven’t found any sign of them.”

  “What do we do?” Hyrin asked.

  “The Colonel said to blow up the ship,” Officer Shathryn said with a hint of uncertainty.

  The door next to the loading deck of the craft they watched opened and a form stepped out. Liora realized why the crew members appeared reluctant to follow their colonel’s orders when the small atmosphere suit of a child landed on the sandy ground, then held up a hand. A slender form joined the child. Two other small children climbed down beside the first.

  “Have you seen any men?” Liora asked.

  “Not yet,” O’Tule replied. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Why would they travel in a family group clear out here?” Shathryn asked.

  “That’s what we need to find out.”

  Hyrin glanced back at Devren. “What about the surveyors?”

  “If they’re down there like the Coalition suspects, the Revolutionary presence is a threat to them as well. We’ll send down a Gull to investigate. The last beacon from the surveyors is only a few clicks off. With a little luck, we can check out both areas before a decision is made.”

  The intercom buzzed.

  “Captain, the Colonel is trying to contact you,” Hyrin said.

  “Put him through.”

  Colonel Lefkin’s face appeared on the main screen.

  “Captain, report.”

  “The Revolutionary ship appears to carry women and children, Colonel. I’m sending in a Gull to investigate.”

  Disapproval showed on the colonel’s face. “Captain Metis, your orders were to destroy the ship with extreme hostility. Their presence proves a threat to the survey crew.”

  “Colonel Lefkin, I understand,” Devren replied. “The Gull is already on its way. I just want to ensure that none of the survey crew is being held captive aboard before we blow the ship. We’re close enough to the surveyor beacon’s last signal that they might be related.”

  That appeared to mollify the colonel. He nodded. “Very well. Secure any cargo aboard the surveyors’ ship. This is to be your highest priority. Report to me with your findings.” His face disappeared from the screen.

  Hyrin let out a whistle. “What was that about?”

  “I don’t know.” Devren studied the ship. “We need to get to the bottom of whatever’s going on here.”

  “I didn’t enlist with the Coalition to kill women and children,” Hyrin said.

  “Neither did I,” Devren agreed. “There’s more to this mission than they’re letting on. Let’s get aboard that ship.”

  The crew followed their captain from the bridge.

  “You’re going?” Liora asked on their way down the hall.

  “Yes,” Devren said, “And so are you. Officer Duncan will man the ship until we return. My crew is small and we took on heavy casualties in the last attack. Several members of the investigation team were injured. Until I add more personnel, our missions will require all hands to go above and beyond.”

  “That’s nothing new,” Hyrin said quietly.

  Devren glanced back at him.

  “What, Captain?” the Talastan asked, his eyes blinking sideways. “It’s not like any of us do exactly what it says in our job description.”

  “They gave you a job description?” Shathryn asked.

  Officer O’Tule grinned at her. “Mine just said, ‘Do what the captain tells you to.’ So that’s what I do.”

  Shathryn snorted. “Not me. I have to argue about it a bit.” She patted her fluffy purple hair. “Let’s me feel like I have an input into the proceedings.”

  Liora glanced at Devren. He looked like he was trying to hold back a smile.

  The captain motioned down the hall. “Secure your weapons and meet me in the loading bay.”

  Liora followed Shathryn and O’Tule into a door marked ‘Armory.’ A crew member shoved clips into guns and handed one to each of the officers.

  “Full automatics?” Liora asked in surprise.

  Shathryn gave her a knowing nod. “We don’t know what we’ll encounter. Better to be safe than sorry. These MP Twenty-fives have proven to be effective in almost any type of atmospheric condition and gravity level. They shoot at a higher rate without jamming, and,” she accepted the gun and took another clip for the pistol in her holster, “They’re extremely handy for letting men know when you’re just not interested in them. Thanks, Branson.”

  “Anytime, Officer Shathryn,” the man replied. He held a gun out to Liora.

  “I’d take it,” Hyrin said from behind her when she hesitated. “The captain won’t let you on the Gull without the ability to defend yourself.”

  “I’m not sure a gun is necessary,” Officer Straham said, following them. “With her, we might not need any weapons.”

  Liora took the gun Branson held out.

  “I noticed your lack of sidearm,” he commented. “Can I interest you in a Beretta or Glock? They shoot the newest R.I.P. bullet technology to expand and shred anything they touch. Your enemy will be dead before he or she knows what hit them.”

  Liora couldn’t help comparing him to the food merchants who hawked their wares at Malivian’s circus stops. It seemed getting a gun aboard the Kratos was as easy as buying a cocoa-covered stano leaf or fried and powdered vogum cane. His smile was just as inviting as though she would receive the same pleasure shooting a hostile Revolutionary as eating overly sweet confections.

  “I’m good,” she said. “I don’t have much experience with guns.”

  His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “I think I have just the weapon. Hold on.”

  He pushed a finger to the print reader on one of the drawers behind him and pulled it open.

  After a few moments of rummaging, he said, “Here it is.” He held out a harness with a blade nestled inside.

  Liora withdrew the blade from the sheath. The metal was mixed in jagged sections, some parts light, others dark. It was serrated with wrapped finger grooves that fit her hand.

  “Is this Zamarian steel?” she asked in amazement.

  Branson nodded. “The darker part. I’ve run it through the analyzer, but it can’t tell me what the lighter parts are made of.”

  “That’s a beauty,” Hyrin noted. “Why don’t you ever give me anything like that?”

  “You’d cut yourself,” O’Tule and Branson said at the same time.

  Hyrin glanced at Liora and nodded. “Yeah, I would.” He double-checked the clip on his gun and slid it back into the holster on his hip. “Giddy up.”

  “Give him a gun and he thinks he’s a cowboy,” Shathryn said with a shake of her head.

  “I really can’t accept this.” Liora tried to give the knife back to Branson, but he crossed his arms and refused.

  “I’m the Kratos Armorer for a reason,” Branson replied. “I may have failed officer’s training,” he gave an embarrassed smile, “But Captain Metis knew my true calling. Guns, knives, stars, bayonets, laser pulse rifles, grenades, you name it, I’ve worked with it. Weapons are more than my jo
b, they’re my passion.” He speared her with a look. “That knife was found during one of our runs. It was meant for you. I won’t take it back.”

  Liora debated whether she should try to match stubbornness with the Coalition cut, brawny little man.

  “Come on,” O’Tule urged. “We’re going to be late. You don’t want to answer to Dev, I mean the Captain, if you’re tardy. He might give you a week of latrine duty, and you do not want to know what goes into keeping those things clean!”

  “Alright.” Liora wrapped the sheath around her thigh. She tried to ignore how comfortable the blade felt near her hand as they walked down the hallway. It had been a long time since she had owned a similar weapon. The fierce urge to fight welled up in her chest and she had to shove it back down.

  The group turned left into a room she hadn’t been in yet. Small spaceships, aircraft, and landcraft took up the majority of the area. At one end, officers were pulling on atmosphere suits and helmets near a small ship while Devren gave them instructions. He nodded when he saw the bridge crew and made his way over. Tariq walked at his side. The medical officer’s eyes narrowed when he saw Liora.

  “Do you think giving her a gun is wise?” Tariq asked Devren.

  Liora pretended not to overhear the question Tariq made no effort to soften. His mistrust hurt and confused her. After all, he was the one who had practically convinced her to come back to the Kratos, he had trusted her to help Devren during the middle of the Captain’s breakdown, and he had even brought her something for her face after Malivian’s beating. Now, the look of suspicion on his face when he saw her holding a gun felt like a stab in the back.

  “She’s an officer of this ship,” Devren replied in a tone that left no room for argument. “I will not have any of my crew setting foot on a hostile planet unarmed.”

  “She should stay here.”

  Devren met Tariq’s gaze. “She knows what kind of people are on that ship. She may be the only resource we have.”

  “Then I’ll consider this mission doomed to fail,” Tariq replied. He walked away without giving Devren a chance to reply.

  “This one’s for you.”

  Liora turned to find O’Tule holding out an object to her. The green-skinned woman said, “It’s your atmospheric pressurized oxygen recycling dome guard.”

 

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