by Cheree Alsop
Hyrin paused to study one of the markers on a branching hallway. “I see it!” he said excitedly.
Tariq grabbed his arm and pushed him forward. “We don’t have time. Figure it out later.”
“That’s way too complicated,” Shathryn complained as they ran. “Why couldn’t they keep the galactic imploder on a nice, easy to navigate Sparrow or Finch? We’d be done by now.”
Gunshots rang out behind the crew.
“Open!” Devren shouted at the door.
It slid to the side. Tariq returned fire, covering for his crew as they ducked into the safety of the cargo room.
“How do you close this thing?” Tariq asked into the headset.
The door slid shut.
“Oh,” he said.
Pounding sounded on the door as the salvagers fought to get in. Tariq stood at the entrance, ready to take them on should they figure out the key to opening it.
“So that’s what an Omne Occasus looks like.” Hyrin’s voice was filled with awe.
Chapter 16
Everyone stared at the box. It was huge. At least two of the crew would be required to lift it.
“It looks like it’ll explode if you touch it,” O’Tule said.
“Great. Just what we need. An exploding box.” Shathryn’s sarcasm was colored with fear.
“It won’t explode,” Hyrin told them. He examined the box closer. “The vials have to break, allowing the energy from each orb to mix.” He paused, then sighed. “I wish I knew what the orbs were made out of. It’d be easier to disarm it.”
Metallic clangs hit the door, but it stayed closed against the bullets the salvagers used.
“If we can’t disarm it, what do we do?” Straham asked.
“Take it with us.”
Everyone stared at Devren.
“It’s the only way. If we can’t disarm it here, we need to give Hyrin time to figure it out. Getting the Omne Occasus to the Kratos is our best chance to deactivate it and end the threat. That’s the only way we’ll lose the scavengers’ interest and protect our galaxies.”
Gazes turned to Tariq. Liora realized they viewed Tariq’s opinion with as much respect as their captain’s.
He studied the imploder with distrust clear on his face.
“Are you sure you’re going to be able to disable this thing?” he asked Hyrin.
“I’m not positive, but I’d much rather try than let it fall into the wrong hands,” Hyrin replied.
Tariq nodded. “As much as I don’t like the thought of this thing on board the Kratos, Dev’s right. Let’s get it up.”
“How do you plan to get out the door?” Shathryn asked.
“I’ll create a diversion,” Liora told them.
“You shouldn’t come over here. There’s too many of them,” Tariq said.
“I know how to get around this ship. I’ll be fine,” Liora replied. “Besides, how else are you going to get out of there? We can’t risk them shooting the imploder.”
Liora jogged down the hallway. Looking through the screens had made navigating easier. It wasn’t long before she heard the sounds of commotion near the cargo room.
Liora crept up to the junction. The salvagers looked as though they were prepared to wait the Kratos crew out. With only one exit from the cargo room, it wasn’t a bad idea. Liora debated how to catch their attention without getting herself filled with bullet holes.
She glanced down at her atmosphere suit and an idea began to form in her mind.
Liora grabbed the chest of the scavenger suit where it was bleeding and staggered into view of the scavengers. Several of them hurried up to her. She was grateful the reflective shield hid her face from view.
“It’s a decoy,” she said, stumbling against the wall. “They have the imploder. They ran that way.” She pointed down another hall she knew led to a dead end.
“What are you doing?” Tariq demanded. “Are you crazy?”
Liora kept quiet in the hopes that the scavengers would believe her.
“They’ve got the imploder!” a scavenger said. “We’ve got to stop them before they reach the ship!”
Several scavengers ran up the hallway.
“You’re coming with us,” the one who had spoken said.
“I’ll slow you down,” Liora protested. She had hoped being wounded would make them leave her behind, but apparently chivalry did indeed exist among thieves.
“We’ll carry you back to your ship,” the first replied. “Come on. Help me.”
At his command, a scavenger ducked under her other arm. They jogged after their comrades down the hall.
“Now,” Liora said.
“What was that?” the lead scavenger asked.
“Open,” she heard Devren say.
“Uh, now we’ll stop them,” she continued, making her voice tight as if she was in pain.
“Just hold on. We’ll get you medical care as soon as the imploder is found,” the leader promised.
Liora wished he was cruel so she could kill him without remorse. Instead, he actually seemed to care about his fellow scavengers. It was the last thing she had expected.
“I see it,” Hyrin said with excitement over the headset. “Liora’s right! Backwards Galian! Who would have thought?”
“So where do we go?” Tariq asked with a hint of impatience.
“Right,” Hyrin said. “We need to take the route marked like this. It’s a rough translation of loading dock.”
“We’ll take your word for it,” Shathryn replied.
Liora could hear the labored breathing of the crew members who carried the box. She wished she was back inside the control room so she could guide them safely. The thought of a bullet hitting the Omne Occasus was a scary one.
The scavengers turned down the next hallway and reached the dead end.
“Hey,” one of them exclaimed. “She lied to us!”
Liora unsheathed her knife and stabbed it into the shoulder of the scavenger on her right. He stumbled against the wall and she landed on her knees. Another scavenger lifted his gun. She threw her knife. It sunk deep into his chest. Liora dove at him, ripped out the knife as he fell, and rolled over his body to plunge the knife into a third man.
Bullets followed her as she fought to survive. Wherever she landed, another scavenger was there. Time seemed to slow with the falling bodies. She used their forms as shields and turned their own guns against them. Liora’s Damaclan training took over entirely until she became a spectator in her own body, watching her hands break the neck of one salvager and then use the helmet of another to bash in the skull of a third.
The violent rush died away to leave her standing amid the bodies. It was the second time she had been left to view the effects of her wrath. She felt disgusted by the savagery she was able to channel, and loathed the blood that dripped from the fingertips of her gloves.
It took Liora a moment to realize that the leader of the scavengers was still alive. For some reason, she hadn’t killed him. His helmet was off and he stood watching her, his eyes wide with shock and horror at the sight of his men and women broken and piled at her feet.
“What are you?” he asked.
Liora pulled off her borrowed helmet with numb fingers that left streaks of red across the shield.
“Just a girl?” he said as though he barely dared to believe it. “My daughter’s around your age. You can’t be older than twenty-five.”
Liora shook her head, but couldn’t bring herself to speak.
“Liora, get out of there,” she heard Tariq say over the headset of the helmet in her hands.
“You shouldn’t be able to do that,” the scavenger continued. “You killed them.” His eyes filled with tears. “All of them. They were good people.”
“Good people have to die,” she said softly. It was a phrase Obruo used to say when she questioned him about killing. She had hated learning the art of death. She would rather grow things the way her mother did in the garden on their roof. Instead, Obruo had
forced her to train in the Damaclan art, and he had never failed to hide the hope that the training would kill her.
“You’re wrong,” the scavenger leader said with heartache in his voice. “You’re so very wrong.”
He lunged toward her with his hands outstretched. Liora sunk her knife into his stomach. At the same time, something pierced her skin where the side of her throat met her shoulder. She shoved the leader back and pulled the small, pointed object from her neck. It looked like a thorn and the end of it glistened darkly.
The scavenger slid down the wall holding his stomach tight with lifeblood flowing out between his fingers.
“You’re finished,” he said. “Your days of killing are at an end.”
Fire ran from Liora’s neck in both directions. A level of pain she had never felt before flooded her veins.
“What was that?” she demanded.
It was too late. The scavenger’s eyes glazed over. He slumped to one side, joining his companions in death.
Liora shoved her helmet back on.
“They’re everywhere!” Hyrin said. “How do we get around them?”
“They’re Coalition,” Shathryn pointed out. “Shouldn’t we just give them the imploder and have it done with?”
“No,” Devren answered firmly. “We can’t let it fall into the wrong hands.”
“Are you saying the Coalition is the wrong hands?” Straham asked.
“Possibly,” Devren said. “Until we know their motive for certain, we need to get it as far away from everyone as we can.”
“That’s treason,” O’Tule said with worry in her voice.
“It’s survival,” Devren replied. “With this kind of power, we can’t make a hasty decision. We need time to figure things out.”
Liora stumbled up the hallway.
“How do we get the Coalition to leave the Gull alone?” Hyrin asked.
Stone’s voice came over the intercom. “Like this.”
The sound of gunfire and people yelling answered.
“He’s shooting at them!” Shathryn said.
“They’re scattering,” Tariq called. “Now’s our chance.”
Liora broke into a shambling half-run. Every heartbeat felt like it pushed more of the thorn’s toxin through her system. Pain pulsed against her lungs and her heart. Each nerve ending burned with fire. She didn’t want to be left behind. The thought of staying in the foreign ship filled with scavengers terrified her as much as the pressure closing off her throat.
Liora collapsed against a wall. Her legs stopped working. She felt like she was suffocating. She threw off her helmet and curled into a fetal position. Everything hurt. The light piercing her eyes felt like acid rain burning her retinas. The floor against her side punished her body with a thousand daggers. Every breath was torture.
Liora realized something in that moment. Since losing her mother and the rest of her clan, she had thought the worst thing was to live when her loved ones had died. She had survived life with bitterness driving her to the next danger, and when she was imprisoned in Malivian’s circus, she had hoped it would be the key to her eventual demise.
But now that death was an impending reality, Liora realized that she wanted to live. The worst thing would be to throw her life away without realizing her full potential. She wanted to see a sun again and truly appreciate its warmth. She wanted to fly in a spaceship once more and really feel the wonder of racing through the stars. Most of all, Liora wanted to love.
The emotion that had been so lacking in her life since her mother died made her heart ache with such fierceness it kept her mind alert despite the pain. She needed to remember what it felt like to love something and fight for it, to have a purpose, a drive, to belong to something or someone.
“Tariq.”
Liora pushed the name with all of her remaining strength. She didn’t know how far she could reach, or if he was even open enough to hear her. In the haze that filled her mind, she couldn’t even say why it was his name that she called, but that was the name that stayed center in her thoughts when everything else fell away in the darkness.
“Liora?” his voice crackled over the headset near her stomach.
She pulled the helmet close with curled fingers, but couldn’t make her mouth open.
“Liora, where are you?” Desperation touched Tariq’s voice.
Liora couldn’t keep her eyes open. She pushed toward him wordlessly, calling to him with anything she had left.
“Liora, I can feel you.” He sounded confused, but determined. “I’m going to find you. Don’t give up.”
Liora did everything she could to keep her focus centered on him. The pain throbbed through her body in debilitating waves.
She heard salvagers closing in. After what she did to the last group, they would kill her for sure.
Hands grabbed her shoulders and forced her roughly to her back.
“She’s the one from Mattin’s camera.”
“She killed them all.”
“Is she dead?”
“She looks dead.”
“There’s one way to know for sure.”
Liora forced her eyes open just enough to see the gun pointed at her forehead. A finger was tightening on the trigger. Liora couldn’t move. The need to fight back tightened her muscles, sending more of the scorching poison through her locked limbs.
The slight mechanical clicks of the bullet preparing to fire sounded like cannon explosions to her ears. She wanted to scream, to fight, to defend herself, but she was trapped in a cage worse than any she had ever experienced. She was going to die without the ability to fight back.
A gunshot tore through the air. Liora closed her eyes, sure she would feel the impact.
Instead, a body hit the ground near her head. Shouts echoed up and down the hallway. More gunfire sounded. The impact of bodies falling shook Liora. Every sound was heightened, every shout painful. In her mind, Tariq had been shot and killed. There were so many scavengers, Coalition officers, and rebels. There was no way one man could get through so many. She shouldn’t have asked him to come. He would die trying to save her.
A hand touched Liora’s face.
“Open your eyes.” Tariq’s voice was soft and pleading. “Come on, Liora. You can survive anything. You’ve got to.”
Liora wished she could tell him she was fine, but she couldn’t even muster the strength to do something as simple as look at him.
Tariq’s hands ran quickly over her body. “What happened to you?” he said, his voice quiet as though he spoke only to himself. “What could possibly take you down after all this?”
His hands paused at the knife wound in her shoulder. He moved on, checking the wound where the borrowed armor showed blood, but underneath there was nothing.
He opened her left hand and his actions stopped entirely.
“No.”
It was the only word he said. He slid his hands beneath her knees and back and lifted her as though she weighed nothing. Her knife fell out of her weak grip and clattered to the ground. Tariq turned, about to leave it. He muttered something in a language Liora didn’t recognize and lowered her carefully to the ground once more. She heard him scoop up her knife and felt him slide it into the sheath on her thigh before he picked her up again.
“Let’s go,” Tariq said to someone else.
Liora’s head lolled against his shoulder. She fought against the cloud of pain and fire, but it stole her breath and consumed her thoughts. His footsteps were the last thing she knew before the darkness won.
Chapter 17
Liora drifted in and out of consciousness. There were times she was aware of being on the bed in the Kratos’ medical wing, and others where she had no idea of where she was or what had happened. In all cases, she couldn’t move, speak, or give any indication she was conscious. Her mind floated, numb and muted in the cloud of medicine Tariq had put into her IV to chase away the worst of the pain.
“How is she?” Liora heard Devren’s voice break th
rough the haze.
“The same,” came Tariq’s short response. He sounded sullen and angry. “We shouldn’t have let her distract them alone.”
“She doesn’t exactly take orders,” Devren replied.
“Why are you smiling?” Tariq snapped.
“Because she’s still alive. You said yourself that a human would have died by now. It’s her Damaclan blood that’s keeping her alive.”
“Is that supposed to be ironic?”
Devren let out a sigh. “Perhaps. Fate is fickle. Who really says what allows someone to live and others to die?”
“My hands.” Tariq’s words were said without inflection.
“What’s that supposed to mean? You’d let her die?” Devren asked, his tone disbelieving. “Didn’t you take an oath or something when you become a doctor?”
“Yes,” Tariq answered, “And no, I wouldn’t let her die. Even if I didn’t take an oath. There’s something…” His voice faded away.
“What is it?” Devren pressed.
Tariq was quiet for a few minutes.
Devren waited as if he knew better than to push his friend too far.
Tariq finally let out a breath. “She’s covered in scars, Dev.”
“She’s a Damaclan,” Devren replied with a hint of confusion in his voice as if he didn’t understand what Tariq was getting at.
“They aren’t normal scars,” Tariq finally said. “I’ve seen Damaclan bodies before. They haven’t been abused like she has. My equipment picked up several broken bones that were never properly treated. She has stab wounds, blunt injuries, and compression fractures all over her body.”
“Was that a part of the training?” Devren asked, his voice quieter.
“I don’t think so. Someone has been cruel far past the point of discipline. Injuries like that are intentional, mean to hurt.” His voice lowered. “Meant to break someone.”
It was Devren’s turn for silence. When he spoke, his tone was sure. “If she pulls through, she’ll always have a place here on the Kratos. No matter what your differences, I’m not sending her out to fend for herself after all she’s done for us.”