The Last Stryker (Dark Universe Series Book 1)

by Alex Sheppard

  “Are you going to tell everyone about me?”

  The ghost of a smile scrunched the captain’s face as he closed his eyes and shook his head. “No, it’s not my secret to tell. Unless your lie threatens the safety of my crew, you can hold on to it.”

  What if her being on the Endeavor caused even more trouble for the captain and his crew? What then?

  “Sit,” the captain gestured at a chair across from him. He poured a bit of his red, runny noja into a cup and held it out for her. “Drink this, you’ll feel better.”

  Ramya took the cup but hesitated to bring it up to her lips, and her action was not lost on the captain.

  “I know how your family likes their noja. With a lot of milk and honey, topped with cream, right? Well, this is different, but then,” he leaned forward to look Ramya in the eye, “you’re different as well, aren’t you?”

  There was no arguing that. Ramya took a sip and winced. It was bitter as bitter could be, and the harsh taste trickled past her tongue and seemed percolate into her bones like an acid tearing its way through slush. Yet, it was strangely refreshing. It cleared her senses and grounded her in an instant, like a miracle.

  “There, you like my noja.” The captain chuckled and took a long sip from his own cup. “Now you’re officially part of the crew.”

  Ramya let out an anguished laughter. “So, everyone has to taste your noja to be officially in?”

  “My noja and Sosa’s Pax. And seems like you can handle both quite well.”

  Ramya couldn’t stop the giggle. The captain was a strange kind of funny. And sitting there and drinking the undrinkable noja with him was unexpectedly relaxing. To be honest, it was the first time in a long time that she felt so much at home.

  “So . . .” Ramya hesitated to bring up the topic that needed to be brought up. “When did you know about me?”

  “When do you think?”

  “Right when we met maybe?”

  The captain took a long sip of his noja and nodded slowly. “Yes. The moment I saw your eyes, I knew. You have Kiroff genes, my dear. Your grandfather, your father, and your uncles, they all have the exact same eyes.”

  There it was again, the same conversation about her eyes. Not too long ago, the pilot of the Stryker had said the same. She had ignored him, but if the captain had the same opinion then it had to be true. Weird thing was, no one had ever told her about it until now.

  “I had known your grandfather for a very long time, Rami,” the captain said. “So the resemblance is striking to me. But it won’t be to everyone, if you’re worried about that.”

  She was worried. She could do her hair a different way or dress and carry herself differently, but how could she change her eyes?

  “Besides, you take after Sonya. A lot.”

  Her mother? That was new also. She did inherit her mother’s dusky complexion but no one had ever mentioned a strong resemblance to the breathtakingly beautiful Lady Sonya Kiroff.

  “How do you know Gael?”

  The captain’s question was so abrupt and unexpected that for a second Ramya couldn’t fathom what he was asking.

  “Who?” she blurted.

  “Gael Arlington, the GSO lieutenant you heard speaking.”

  “I . . . I met him at the CAWStrat, right before I left. I didn’t know who he was then.”

  The captain sat up, his eyes narrowed. “Gael was at the CAWStrat? What was he doing there?”

  “GSO agents have been at the CAWStrat for a few days now.” Ramya went on to explain the theory about the GSO recruiting cadets after their fleet was wiped out at Sector 22.

  The captain sighed and fell back into his chair again. Staring at the ceiling, he scratched his chin for a while. Then he looked up at Ramya again.

  “So, Gael was at the CAWStrat when you decided to leave?”

  “Yes,” Ramya said, sighing. Gael was very much there. She had actually left him waiting in the middle of the Decosset when she excused herself and pretended to visit the refreshment room. In truth, she had ran back to her room and taken off from there.

  The captain took another sip of his noja before looking intently at Ramya. “What’s you plan? Where are you off to?”

  Ramya stiffened. She wondered if she could tell him about her plans to confront the Moanus and get the Kiroff hearth back from them, or if she could tell him about finding Uncle Bryn. Both plans were far-fetched, she knew. And he’d surely laugh at her.

  “That’s all right of you don’t want to tell me,” the captain said. “Everyone has a right to their secrets.” His eyes took on a faraway look, and Ramya wondered how many secrets the captain had stored away in his mind.

  “It’s not . . .” She wanted to tell him she didn’t care much about keeping her plans secret but that she feared ridicule, but her words faltered yet again.

  “There’s no rush, little girl,” the captain said reassuringly. “It’s not like we’re running off anywhere.”

  “I’m headed for the Fringe,” Ramya declared. “That’s the plan for now.”

  “Hmm,” said the captain. For a long, quiet while, they sat looking at things other than each other. Then the captain cleared his throat. “Well, I wish I could take you there, but the Endeavor is not equipped that well. The Fringe is full of pirates and many other unpleasant creatures, and this old ship will be like a sitting duck out there.”

  “I know,” Ramya said quickly to assure him that she was not expecting him to help her all the way to the Fringe. “I’ll find another transport from somewhere near the outer settlements. You can drop me off wherever you think is best.”

  The captain’s eyes clouded; whether it was fear or concern for her or both, Ramya didn’t know.

  “Anyway, we need to sort out this trouble with the Stryker first before anyone goes anywhere,” she added.

  The captain looked away, his tone gruff when he spoke again. “The Fringe is not an easy or safe place to be, especially not for you, Lady Ramya Kiroff.”

  His words felt like a slap. It stung like nothing before. Not even her father’s habitual derision pained her as much. Ramya felt her eyes burn and her sight blur. She blinked, fast and furious, determined not to let her hurt show. She also wondered what had upset her so much. Was it the thought that it’d be hard for her to survive the Fringe, or was it because of the formal address he used? It was more of the latter, she decided.

  Gulping to drive away that ache in her throat, Ramya found a few words and she uttered them out as firmly as she could. “Please don’t call me that, Captain. I don’t want to hear that name.”

  Ramya saw the captain’s jaw tighten, but before the ripples on his forehead could deepen, a sharp rap sounded on the door. Ramya jumped at the interruption, almost spilling what remained of the noja in her cup.

  “Yes,” hollered the captain.

  “It’s me, Captain. Fenny.”

  “Come in.”

  The petite navigator of the Endeavor walked in with a sullen face. She barely glanced at Ramya, instead keeping her gaze locked on the captain.

  “Ross is in the COM with Wiz, and they seem to be doing fine by themselves,” Fenny informed. “I’m going to go back to the cargo bay. The Pterostrich cage needs some mending, so I thought now’s a good time to take care of that.”

  Captain Milos nodded. “All right. Go. Take Rami with you.”

  Fenny flinched at his words and shook her head with vehemence. “I don’t need her, Captain,” she said in a scathing tone, throwing an annoyed sidelong glance at Ramya.

  The captain raised an eyebrow and Ramya wondered what could be wrong. Fenny had always been friendly with her.

  “I’ll be fine on my own, Captain,” Fenny said again as the captain continued to stare. “Rami can be with Sosa. I’m sure she’ll be needed there.”

  Refusing help, particularly with mending the Pterostrich cage, was weird. Fenny wasn’t cursing anymore either, which Ramya thought was extremely odd.

  “You’re taking her with you,
Fenny.” The captain’s order was crisp with an air of finality.

  Fenny nodded, but it was clearly a grudging consent. Then, without even acknowledging Ramya, the woman marched out of the captain’s room.

  17

  Ramya had to rush to catch up with Fenny who strode away without sparing her a glance. “Fenny,” Ramya yelled, trying to wrestle some attention from the woman. “Wait.”

  Fenny didn’t stop until she was in the elevator. Even then, she refused to look at Ramya and simply stared at the ceiling grim-faced.

  “What’s wrong?” Ramya demanded. She had always found Fenny to be a cheerful, if loud, presence. The Fenny of now was not normal. Had something happened between her and the others? Could Ross have said something to make her mad? He had been with her in the cargo bay, and although Ramya hadn’t noticed them squabbling in the feed, they could’ve fought later.

  “Fenny?” Ramya tried again. “Why aren’t you talking to me?”

  “Not in the mood,” Fenny snapped. The elevator screeched to a halt and Fenny darted out of it as if staying there a second longer would burn her.

  Ramya followed her out and they walked silently to the weapons storage. Fenny picked two blasters and handed one to Ramya. She also picked some armor and gave Ramya one. As soon as they had finished donning their helmets, Fenny stomped out of the weapons cache and back into the elevator.

  Ramya confronted the woman when the doors closed. “All right, Fenny,” she started, “you need to tell me what’s going on. Tell me right now, or—”

  “Or what?” Fenny almost spat. She took a step toward Ramya and glared. “What are you gonna do to me, Lady Ramya Kiroff? Blast me out of the iffin galaxy?”

  Ramya fell back a step, stunned by Fenny’s vicious response even before the meaning of Fenny’s words dawned on her. It was not until the doors of the elevator opened once more and she had followed Fenny out to the entrance of the cargo hold that Ramya could speak.

  “Wait. Did you just call me Lady Ramya Kiroff? How do you . . . you know . . .” Ramya’s words faded midway, a million thoughts bombarding her mind. Fenny had to have overheard the captain addressing her as “lady.” And Fenny wasn’t angry with Ross, but with her. “Oh, come on, Fenny,” Ramya pleaded. “What are you so mad about?”

  Fenny was busily punching in the entrance code at the door of the hold, but she stopped and whirled around to face Ramya. “Why am I mad? Well, because you iffin lied to me, that’s why,” she yelled, and jabbed an accusing finger in the air. “I thought you were a poor, little motherless kid, and I cared about you and . . . trusted you. I fought with Ross because of you. And you? You’ve been playing me . . . us all the while.”

  “Well, I’m sorry, but I didn’t have a choice, Fenny,” Ramya protested. “I’m not on a vacation, I’m on the run. I couldn’t simply tell you who I wa—”

  “Stop,” Fenny said. She held her arms up and hissed, “Just stop. I don’t know what wool you’ve managed to pull over the captain’s eyes, but do not try to convince me you’re all innocent, all right? I know who you are and what you are now.”

  Ramya’s throat was quickly filling up with hurt, but she managed a whisper. “You do? So tell me then, who am I?”

  Fenny placed her hands on her hips and simply heaved for a while before she uttered a sound. “You’re a spoiled little rich kid who has lied her way into my ship and is going to cause everyone I love and care about a whole lot of trouble.” She gritted her teeth and paused a while, as if to stop the rest of her cruel words from spilling out. “You’re a selfish brat whose whim for adventure might get all of us killed.”

  Raw anger burned in Fenny’s eyes and along with it the swirling hatred. How could Fenny hate her that much? She had only hidden her identity, not harmed anyone. And Fenny thought Ramya was running away because she had a whim for adventure? Ramya couldn’t bear to look at Fenny’s raging face anymore so she turned away. Besides, she also needed to quietly blink away the tears she knew were about to slip past her barricades.

  “Now you’re going to turn away,” Fenny said, sarcasm dripping from her voice. “Well, that won’t change anything. You’ll still be a two-bit liar, just like your father.”

  Ramya took in a long, deep breath. She was nothing like her father. She could never be anything like her father. And Fenny needed to know that. Ramya passed a hand over her still-moist eyes and turned around slowly.

  “Call me whatever you want to call me, Fenny, but do not compare me to my father. Not now, not ever. Do you understand?”

  Ramya realized she had spoken too harshly from the way Fenny’s eyes narrowed and nostrils flared. The woman recovered quickly though. Crossing her arms, she tilted a stubborn chin in Ramya’s direction.

  “And why shouldn’t I?” Fenny asked. “Runaway or not, you’re still his daughter and heiress to his endless fortune, aren’t you?”

  “As if I care about his fortune. I’d take this ship over Somenvaar any day.”

  Fenny froze and then she blinked and frowned before throwing her arms up in the air. “All right, that’s it. I can’t pretend like I’m not curious to know. Have you lost it? Are you seriously leaving it all behind?”

  Ramya couldn’t help but roll her eyes. She knew it probably looked juvenile and immature and so much like Isbet, but she couldn’t stop it. What did Fenny think she was doing, playing hide-and-seek with her father?

  “Yes, quite seriously,” she said. “You have no idea what my father would do if he got his hands on me.”

  “Will he disown you?”

  Ramya scoffed. “That would have been good. But he won’t. I was born into the Kiroff family so he’ll always find a use for me. But along the way he’ll humiliate me in the worst way possible and then some.”

  “But why?” Fenny asked. “You’re his daughter. He must care about you.”

  “He gives a damn about me.”

  Fenny scrunched her shoulders, indignant. Ramya knew that disbelieving look in Fenny’s eyes. Isbet always gave her the same look. No one believed how much her father disliked her. No one.

  Ramya pushed down a sigh. This wasn’t the time for self-pity. “He always wanted a male heir, but got me instead,” she said. “I’m this worthless girl who is not outstanding at anything. At CAWStrat my father got trophies for everything he participated in. And I? The best I could muster in two years was an honorable mention. Heck, I’m not even a beauty.”

  Fenny’s face had been dimming steadily as she listened to Ramya. Now she made a face. “Who said you aren’t pretty?”

  “My father. All my life,” Ramya replied, chuckling. She remembered the first time she had heard him say it. She must’ve been five or six. “An ugly mutt of girl” he had called her. She had cried for weeks and never told anyone about it, not even to Isbet. Yet now it felt strangely liberating to tell Fenny. “He has always called me ugly. Well, it’s true I am nothing compared to my mother. She’s—”

  Fenny’s mouth twisted as she scoffed. “I don’t know about anyone else, but my vote is with you. Besides, who cares about looks anyway? You’re a sharp kid, and that’s all that matters.”

  “Hah! You should tell my father that. He’ll find it quite funny.”

  Fenny balked. “Why is that? You are plenty smart. You snuck out of . . . wherever and got in here. Iffin Trysten hasn’t found you yet, has he? Then you fought that bird. And you helped Sosa. Heck, you even helped out in the COM. If that’s not smart I don’t know what is.”

  Ramya let out a long sigh. “Like I said, go tell that to my father. The only use he has for me is as bait, to lure another family into a marriage alliance. Then he’d train the man I marry to be his real successor. That’s his grand plan for me.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes, Fenny. Seriously. He was about to pull me out of the CAWStrat and get me married to some random guy. That’s when I ran.”

  “So that’s why.”

  “Yes, that’s why. It wasn’t just a whim.”

>   “Hey, the jury’s still out on that. If you ask me, the situation doesn’t sound that awful anyway. Sure, Trysten Kiroff is a pig, but I don’t see how marrying a guy he picked for you would be a bad thing. I mean, that guy would also have to be iffin rich to begin with for your father to choose him. You’d have a nice little life and not be fighting stinky hatchlings on a rundown ship.”

  It was Ramya’s turn to shake her head. “Really? That guy would probably be just as slimy as my father. And he’d be marrying me for my father’s money. What would that make me?”

  “Hmm, I don’t know.” Fenny thoughtfully rubbed her nose. “What would it make you? A wife maybe? One he’d move the heavens to please?”

  Ramya stifled a sigh. “Please me? More like please my father.”

  “Ah.” Fenny nodded like a wise sage. “So, the girl wants to marry for love, huh?” Fenny said in a singsong voice. “She wants to find her prince charming on her own.”

  “Oh, shut up,” Ramya retorted, and Fenny broke into noisy cackles.

  Ramya felt her face grow warmer. What was wrong with looking for love? That wasn’t asking for much.

  Fenny patted Ramya’s shoulder. “All right, sister. That’s enough chitchat for now. Back to work.” She turned back to face the door. “Your ladyship needs to learn to clean some bird poop.”

  “Wait! What?”

  Fenny vigorously punched the buttons of the door lock. “We have to clean the cage because the whole cargo bay smells like shit. We have to feed the chick again and extend the cage so she has enough room as she grows.”

  “It’s a she?” Ramya asked, squinting at Fenny.

  Fenny shrugged. “Yes, Vittoria is a girl.”

  Ramya took more than a second to react to that. “Vittoria?” she said, blinking.

  “Don’t you like the name?”

  “That’s not the point. Why would you name a murderous bird? It’s bad enough we’re keeping it alive, and now . . .”

  Fenny face drooped a little. “It’s not Vittoria’s fault that she hatched on the Endeavor. It’s ours. We destroyed her life. None of the other eggs are hatching either, poor things. I think they’re all dead.”