Two weeks into the trip, she awoke surprisingly rested for a change. During meditation later that day, she discovered she had lost the feeling that Daughter was in danger. Did that mean the danger no longer existed, or did it mean the danger was now in the past tense, hence no longer visionary? Should she inform Admiral Jast? With no one but herself to consult, she decided she would say nothing.
Three weeks later, after they had been jumping through interstellar space for two weeks, she suddenly lost the feeling of dread she’d had concerning the Palace. Could space travel have anything to do with her Seeing? She just didn’t know, and the not knowing frustrated her. She took to spending more and more of her time in meditation, hoping something would reveal itself.
After a full day within her quarters, a day during which she skipped all three meals, Tarn decided he’d better check on her. Without her, he, too, had been forced to skip meals, and he was hungry. He knocked softly at her door, but there was no reply. The door was unlocked, so bracing himself, he touched the door pad.
The door snicked aside, and there she was sitting on her bed in the lotus position, her eyes closed. She seemed to be breathing, but just barely. How long had she been like this, he wondered? Was she okay? He went to her side and shook her shoulder. Moments later her eyes flew open, staring about in fright. He backed away to the door, knowing he’d made another faux pas.
Her eyes flew to him as she struggled to fully emerge from her induced state. “What happened?”
“Sorry, Ma’am. You’ve been in here all day,” he answered uncertainly. “I’ve been worried about you.”
She looked about herself wildly. “What happened?” she asked again.
“Nothing, Ma’am. I just touched your shoulder.”
She looked at him with pity. “Oh, Tarn. I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry? Why? Are you okay?”
She uncurled her legs as she gathered her thoughts. “You say you touched me?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Could that have something to do with it?” she mumbled. She studied him for a moment and reached a decision. “Take my hand, and don’t let go no matter what.”
“Ma’am? I shouldn’t even be in here.”
His concern meant nothing to her at the moment. She reached for his hand and demanded that he hold hers, then she closed her eyes and went into herself again. It didn’t last long.
“There’s nothing more,” she whispered, opening her eyes and releasing him. “Where are we?” she asked curtly.
“Pretty much in the middle of nowhere. We have another week or so of jumps before we arrive on the outskirts of Dorwall. It’s a long way from Centauri III. Why?”
“Do you know why we’re going to this place? Has anyone told you?”
“No, Ma’am. Scuttlebutt has it that it has something to do with Daughter. I’m guessing you’re somehow connected to her.”
She pursed her lips. She’d been with Tarn for over a month and hadn’t said a word to him about what was going on. How unfair. “Sit down,” she ordered.
“No, Ma’am. I’m not even supposed to be in here with you.”
She stood up and stepped to the door, their noses only inches apart, and reached across him to close the door. Then she locked it. “Tarn,” she said, her face still only inches from his, “this transcends propriety. I have to figure out what to do. I need your help. Our lives might be in the balance. Yours certainly is.”
“Ma’am?” he asked, standing rigidly at attention.
She passed a shaking hand across her forehead. “Look, I know it’s asking a lot, but I need a friend right now. Will you please call me Krys?”
He glanced at the locked door and swallowed. “Krys,” he muttered.
“Thank you. Please sit down. I just had a vision, and I’m frightened.”
His shoulders sagged a little, and he looked at her as if he’d misheard. “You . . . had a vision?”
“Do you know what a Seer is?”
“No.”
She moved to the bed and sat, sensing correctly that he would not sit as she had asked. “Yes, you do. They’re the stuff of legend, and we’ve all heard the tales.” She stared across the small space at him. “Daughter thinks I might be a Seer, Tarn. A real Seer. From time to time I have visions of things that are about to happen. Sometimes they’re far in the future, and sometimes they’re not. They’re never clear enough for me to understand. Unfortunately, my field of view during these visions is too limited. I’ve been trying for years to improve my skills, but I’m getting nowhere.”
She looked hard at him. “This mission is all about visions. I had a vision of Daughter in terrible danger, and because of that vision we’re going to her. I hope I’m wrong or that the danger to her is sometime in the future, but in my heart I believe we’re too late.”
“Why are you telling me this?” he asked, the locked door suddenly not so important anymore.
“I recently lost my feeling that Daughter is in danger. I hope it means the danger is gone, but I fear it’s because it has already happened, in which case we’re too late.”
“Does the admiral know?”
“No.”
Tarn reached for the door pad. “We should tell him.”
“Not yet. I’m still learning, Tarn, and I’m very uncertain of myself. There’s more.” Her eyes lowered, and she looked away from him. “I was getting nowhere, but the moment you touched me, I had a vision of you.”
“Me!”
She leaned forward into her hands, covering her eyes, afraid to look at him. “You were in terrible agony. You might have been dying.”
His attention locked on her, the closed door no longer a concern at all. “Uh, just how reliable are these visions of yours?”
“Pretty reliable,” she mumbled between her hands. She looked up. “What should I do?”
He inched away from the door, his mind calculating, then he reached a decision. It seemed to calm him. “We have to see the admiral, but let’s think about this for a minute. You say these visions are reliable. Have you ever tried to prevent one of them from happening? Can you change what’s about to happen?”
“I don’t know! I’ve never tried.”
“Maybe it’s time you did. I’m not ready to die yet. What else did you see? Were there others?”
“No, just you. You were on the floor, and you were in agony.”
“I was injured?”
She thought for a moment. “Not that I could tell.”
His brow furrowed. “Tell me about the floor.”
Impatience showing in her tone and her expression, she said, “It was just a floor, Tarn.”
He crouched down to be on a level with her eyes, one hand resting on her knee. “Was it like a floor in your home, or was it like the deck here on the ship? Or could it have been outside in a field somewhere?”
“I think it was on the ship.”
“Any idea of how far in the future it is?”
“No, but when it’s a long way off, I usually get a sense of that.”
He grimaced, then looked up at her sharply. “Was I at my gun station?”
“I don’t know. You were just on the floor. Sorry.”
“Not fair. If I’m going to die, I’d like to go down fighting.”
“I’d rather you avoided dying at all, Tarn. Besides, if it applies to you, it might apply to everyone else on the ship, including me.”
“Then it might include the whole fleet. We have to see the admiral.”
“I can’t tell him. I’m not even supposed to have told you. Daughter classified this ability of mine as an Imperial Secret.”
He looked at her long and hard. “What good are secrets if they can’t be used? Maybe it’s time you used this ability to change things. Come on!”
He led her to the admiral’s office and stopped before the aide’s desk. “I need to see the admiral, sir.”
“He’s in conference with his senior staff. Sorry, Ensign.”
“Whe
re’s the meeting?”
The lieutenant pointed his head to a door off to the side of the waiting room. Without hesitation, Tarn strode to the door, touched the door pad, and stepped in. Krys followed on his heels.
A senior officer was in the midst of a presentation. He stopped talking and stared at Tarn in surprise. Admiral Jast looked at him in amazement. “Ensign?” he stated calmly.
“Sorry, sir. Something’s come up. It has to do with the safety of the mission.”
Jast looked to Krys. “You have more information?”
“Yes, sir.” Looking around the table, she said, “Just for you, sir.”
Jast’s lips thinned. “If it has to do with Daughter’s safety or the success of the mission, everyone in this room needs to know. Out with it, young lady.”
Tarn led her to the foot of the table where she remained standing. He walked back to the door and closed it, standing rigidly with his back to it.
Krys started her story all over again. “We’re here because of a vision I had. Daughter believes I’m a Seer.” She heard a few gasps, though Jast remained expressionless. “My abilities are not refined, in fact I have little control over what I see or when I see, but I do see things. So far as I know, they end up happening just as I foresaw. When I first met Daughter some twelve years ago, I had a vision of her. She was laying in the dirt at the bottom of a ship’s ramp. Beside her was her Chief Protector, Otis. He was firing at something I could not see.”
“Is this what sent us on this mission?” Jast asked.
“No, sir. At the time, the vision seemed to me to be far in the future.”
“Very well. I take it you’ve had another one of these visions more recently?”
“I did, sir, back on Centauri III. Daughter was again in mortal danger with Otis standing over her firing at something. They were outside her quarters on Resolve. Admiral Chandrajuski chose to act on the basis of that vision.”
“That’s all?” Jast demanded with some incredulity. “We’re out here because of some kind of hocus pocus?”
“Sir, Daughter believes strongly enough in my abilities that she named me a Friend of the Royal Family. The last vision of her was clear, and I believe her danger was imminent. It very possibly relates to the earlier vision. I cannot say with certainty.”
“Yet you trust your feelings with this vision stuff.”
“I don’t trust any of my visions, sir, but Daughter does.”
“Hmm. Is there more?”
“Yes, sir. Just a few minutes ago I had a vision of Ensign Lukes. Just as in the vision with Daughter, he was laying on the deck in agony. He might have been dying.”
All eyes turned to Tarn. He was already standing at attention before the door, but he stiffened even more. “When will this happen?” another officer asked.
“I can’t say, sir,” she said, turning to him, “but I do not sense it is far in the future.”
Jast sat back in his seat, his gaze on her but his thoughts elsewhere. His gaze shifted to look at each person at the table and ended up on Tarn. “You chose well, Ensign. Since you’re now an intimate part of this debacle, I invite both of you to stay. Please be seated.”
Chapter Sixteen: Defeat
When they dropped from hyperspace into the outskirts of Dorwall’s system, Krys and Tarn were not invited to the bridge. A full day went by before they were summoned. They met with Jast and his staff in the conference room again, and he was not a happy person. He brought a display to life on the wall to show Dorwall’s system in great detail. He zoomed in on an inner planet, then let the display speak for itself. Krys understood little of what she saw, but Tarn did. He let out a gasp, his gaze going to Admiral Jast.
“Yes, Ensign. Lots of space junk. We’re too far out to be certain, but we believe it’s the remains of a large number of ships.”
He turned to Krys. “At least one of your visions appears to have come true. Have you had any more?”
“No, sir.”
His lips thinned. “Our job is to find Daughter. We’re going to continue inward with all guns ready. A few Chessori ships are headed our way, with what intent we don’t know. They are unresponsive to our calls.”
“Sir?” Tarn asked.
“I know, Ensign. If the remains of those ships out there are ours, these Chessori are not to be taken lightly. Two heavy squadrons escorted Daughter – it’s unthinkable that they’d succumb to any threat. Thanks to Ms. Krys, we are, at least, forewarned, which may be an advantage they lacked. We’ll find out what happened here, we’ll find Daughter if she’s still alive, and you know fleet policy: we never desert our sailors. If there’s anyone still alive out there, we’re going to rescue them.”
Tarn hesitated to question this very senior officer, but he saw no alternative. “Sir, what if we’re all killed? What if no one’s left to carry a message back?”
“That’s why I called you in here. You and Ms. Krys will board a fighter and retreat to a safe jump point. If things go poorly for us, you’ll carry the message back to Admiral Chandrajuski. Understood?”
“Sir,” Tarn said, pushing his chair back and standing at attention. “I’m a gunnery officer. I’d rather stay with my battery.”
“Request denied, sailor. Your duty is to see to the safety of Ms. Krys. Your ride is waiting on the hangar deck.”
Tarn visibly sagged. “Yes, sir.”
Tarn led Krys back to their quarters at a brisk pace. He threw some of his things into a duffel bag, then added hers to them. Neither took very much. She took hold of his arm as they headed toward hangar deck. “I’m sorry,” she said softly.
He shook her hand off angrily and continued his brisk pace. As they neared the hangar deck, she stopped him again. “Tarn, wait. I have to see the admiral one more time, briefly.”
“They’re going to war, Krys. I don’t think they have time for us now.”
“Then he’ll have to make time. Think!” she demanded. “When I touched you, I received a vision of you. I’d like to try it with him.”
Tarn studied her, then nodded his head. “It makes sense, I suppose.” They returned to Jast’s office. For once he was alone, his work done for the moment. His forces were positioned, and his fleet continued inbound toward the planet, still weeks away.
“Admiral,” Krys said, “I’d like to attempt another vision, a vision of you this time. Will you permit me?”
His eyebrows rose as he considered. “No,” he finally said, looking kindly at her. “I appreciate the significance of your offer, but what if you see me dead? What then? I cannot go into battle with such foreknowledge.”
“Even if it prevents losses?”
“Even then, Ms. Krys. My orders include rescuing Daughter at any cost. Any cost. Do you understand?”
“Sir, I don’t think Daughter is here anymore,” she whispered, uncertain of herself.
“But you don’t know. My job is to find out. We’re a strong, committed force, young lady. We do not sail to our deaths.”
She nodded and turned to follow Tarn. Before leaving, she turned back to him. “May the gods be with you, sir.”
“And with you, Ms. Krys.” Addressing Tarn, he said, “If things go poorly, get word back to Admiral Chandrajuski. Understood, Ensign?”
“Understood, sir,” Tarn said squaring his shoulders.
“Let me add, young man, that Daughter will hold you personally responsible if anything happens to Ms. Krys. Worse, Admiral Chandrajuski and I will, as well. Shove off.”
The tiny fighter was crowded. Crewed by six, it carried a captain, a pilot-navigator, an engineer, and three gunners. Krys was astonished when she met the captain, Lieutenant Stven.
“Why, you’re a Rress, from Rrestriss!” she exclaimed. The dragon stood some four feet tall at the shoulder on strong, leathery legs, though its head towered over the people and workstations on the bridge. Its sleek body was four times that in length when its tail was stretched to its limit. Bright purple scales, the ends tinged in yellow, cover
ed most of its body and long neck to the eyebrows. Long, leathery wings folded neatly to its sides and back, and the forward joint of each wing was equipped with a strong hand with retractable claws. The head was not that of a snake: a large dome held its brain and eyes. A long snout with exceptionally large, flared nostrils left plenty of room for a full mouth of vicious teeth. When in good health, the eyes generally matched the color of its scales, in Stven’s case purple. Black, vertical, diamond-shaped pupils focused on her.
“At your service,” he replied with just the hint of a hiss. “You know of my world?”
“I know it very well. I attended university there for seven years.”
The scales lining each side of the dragon’s backbone trembled in surprise, a behavior she had grown accustomed to during her stay on Rrestriss. “Seven years! You must be special.”
“I didn’t think you Rress ever chose military duties,” she answered, diverting his question.
“Well, there’s always one throw-back in the litter. Guess it was me. We’ll talk of it later. For the moment,” he said turning to Tarn, “Ensign Lukes, you’re my gunnery officer now. The last one was reassigned to the cruiser. Looks like he got promoted to your job. Please see to your duties.”
“Yes, sir!” Tarn replied with a grin. By now he would do anything for a crew assignment on any ship, even a small fighter. He went to a console, picked up a helmet, and was soon lost to them in the net.
The small fighter was shaped like a disc, with two guns topside and two on the bottom. A gunner attended each battery of two guns, though always from the bridge through the net unless there was a major malfunction. The gunnery officer was not ordinarily expected to man a gun, there were two ratings for that, though he could if he felt it necessary. His primary job was to coordinate the gunners’ activities with those of the pilot. Doing exactly that had been Tarn’s first assignment out of the Academy.
“I have work to do,” Stven said to Krys. “Before I go, have you any shipboard skills?”
“No, Lieutenant.”
Last of the Chosen (Spirit of Empire, Book One) Page 18