Shades of Dark

by Linnea Sinclair

  Or else Del had compelled everyone else to stay away. That wouldn’t have surprised me.

  It shouldn’t. He has, Sully confirmed, his arm draped over my shoulders now, hugging me against his side as we came up to the table. “Mine” was in his posture, in the defiant tilt of his chin, in the narrowing of his dark eyes.

  I nudged him. You two start pissing on the bulkheads to mark your territories and I’m leaving.

  Del snorted out a laugh.

  So much for privacy.

  “It is to be expected, Captain Bergen.” Del rose, holding a chair out for me. Kyi to Kyi, power to power. It is something we go through. It will pass as we come to trust each other.

  “Let’s start by staying out of her mind and mine, Serian,” Sully said tersely as Del and I sat. He was still standing, one hand on the back of his chair as if he was considering hurling it at Del.

  “Captain Regarth, or Del,” Del corrected. “Serian is not a name to be spoken out loud. I can explain why, later, or you can ask Brother Ackravaro. And please, sit. It is more difficult to apologize when you tower over me.”

  Sully lowered himself stiffly into the chair.

  “Now, ale? Wine? Or perhaps some Lashto brandy? Rim we may be, but occasionally some of the finer things do slip our way out here. And as I promised Captain Bergren, I am paying the tab.”

  “Lashto and bitter-coffee,” Sully said before I could answer that water was fine.

  “Excellent choice.” Del smiled, then raised one hand, signaling the bar ’droid.

  A round of Lashto brandy could easily eat up a week’s wages. Del had the ’droid bring the bottle. The bitter-coffee came in the usual small cups with a wand of rocksugar balanced across the top. The aroma was marvelous, reminiscent of roasted amberseeds and chocolate. If it weren’t for the company and reason we were here, this would have been a delightful experience, one to be savored slowly.

  Kyis are highly motivated by pleasure.

  That from Del, smiling.

  “Regarth.” That from Sully making no attempt to disguise the warning tone in his voice. Something else pulsed from him as well. Power, low level.

  Del splayed his hands in a small gesture of apology. “Let me state something up front, before we proceed. It may put those concerns you have to rest, at least until you understand all this better and realize you have no concerns. And be assured no one,” and he flicked one long finger toward the patrons sitting at the front of the bar, “can either hear or understand our conversation.

  “The only difference between you and I, Gabriel, is that I’m well trained in the use of my talents. That actually makes you the greater threat. I was able to block your link with Captain Bergren because I did not do it on a level of aggression. You perceived no danger because there was no danger. Had she sent out a serious cry of alarm and not just annoyance at my teasing, you would have known, you would have reacted, and I have every belief I would be dead.”

  Del met Sully’s gaze levelly, all traces of whimsy now absent from his sensual mouth.

  “As her ky’sal, you cannot respond to every twitch Captain Bergren makes. It would drive you crazy, and her. So you consciously or subconsciously filter what you sense from her. It’s necessary. Even when I compelled her to put the Grizni back around her wrist, it was a gentle suggestion. Had she truly fought it, it would have dissolved and you would have been there and I’d likely have her dagger in my throat.

  “Captain Bergren is a trained warrior. She has a justifiable confidence in her abilities. Get used to the fact, Gabriel, that she will not come wailing for you to rescue her at every turn. She will always welcome your assistance, but she’s capable of defending herself.”

  He folded his hands on the tabletop. “She’s also your ky’sara. You’ve not lived among us, so you don’t know what that means to another Kyi. Harming her would be an abomination to me. However, teasing her,” and a corner of his mouth quirked up, “is something I cannot promise never to do. Aside from the fact I’m an inveterate flirt, the joy between the two of you spills over to me because we are all joined on some basic level through the energies of the Kyi. What you share is something I’ve not seen in a number of years. It could almost make me as giddy as a bottle of Lashto.” He raised his glass. “Truce?”

  Sully stirred his bitter-coffee with the rocksugar, eyes narrowed warily. Finally he nodded. “We have a common goal. That eclipses whatever personal differences we may have.”

  “We have an extremely serious common goal,” Del said. “And forgive my intrusion, but I perceived you recently lost a pilot. You may find me to be useful to you, in more ways than one.”

  It took us almost two hours and three pots of bitter-coffee to finish off the bottle of Lashto and lay out what we knew about Tage and Burke, and review the schematics for the Imperial Fleet P-75 that Burke had converted to a movable jukor lab. The coffee countered the majority of the effects of the brandy. We were sober when we finished, but more relaxed. Sully’s animosity lessened somewhat, though it spiked every time Del touched my arm or my shoulder in an affectionate gesture.

  I refused to let it rattle me this time. Not like Sully’s constant small caresses that had unsettled me before I’d known what he was. Ren did it too, though less so. I saw it as an almost subconscious Ragkiril habit. They were highly motivated by pleasure. Physical contact was something they craved.

  I’d known humans like that too. Dorsie was one. Maybe that’s why she and Ren got along so well together. Now, if she were to be around Del, we’d probably never get another meal out of the galley that wasn’t geared for the Takan or Stolorth palate.

  “So you had no inkling they were going to move on Grover’s City,” Del was saying.

  “My gut reaction was that something was coming. But Umoran wouldn’t have been my first guess.” Sully shook his head sadly. “Two of my crew lost family there.”

  “Do you think Tage knew that?”

  “Fleet knew about Marsh Ganton when I was on patrol,” I told Del. “Our intelligence stated he was a rim-worlder, likely Umoran, but more knowledge than that wasn’t priority. Of course, Tage has access to that intelligence. He could have built on it. And of course, Berri Solaria had met Marsh and Dorsie.” And become quite friendly with Dorsie, I remembered. She might have well passed on the location of Dorsie’s family. “Marsh’s father’s job at the docks was recent, though. To believe they were targeting him in order to get at us seems like an awful lot of work. They have easier methods.”

  “Yes, your brother.” Del nodded thoughtfully, lips thinning.

  “And they also have whatever Gregor told them,” Sully added.

  “You sincerely need to get over this discomfort you have with routinely scanning your crew. Do you see, now, how much of this could have been avoided? Greater good, my friend. Even Fleet operates on that premise.” Del glanced at me then back to Sully.

  “That’s not how I work.”

  “Hijacking a shipment of synth-emeralds so a clinic in the colonies can fund new equipment, you don’t need to know any more than your crew is capable of following your orders. But this is the largest and most critical humanitarian effort you have undertaken. I’m not saying what you’ve done for the past decade has not saved lives. It has. But we’re talking now about saving worlds. The rules of the game are different.”

  I watched the concern play over Del’s face. “Why do you care?” I asked him.

  He seemed surprised by my question. “Pardon?”

  “You’re Stolorth. The Empire has all but ostracized you. Why do you give a damn what happens here?”

  He brushed his fingers across my wrist. “This is my home.”

  “But Stol—”

  “Is not my home. I am a Serian. You know how our names relay our heritage?”

  I did. Ren was Frayne Ackravaro Ren Elt. Ren was his birth name, Elt the name of his grandmother, Frayne, his mother, and Ackravaro, his clan-of-region. That made Cordell Del’s birth name and Serian his clan-o
f-region. He should be Cordell Serian. Yet he used his mother’s name and a variation of either his birth or his grandmother’s name when referring to himself.

  “Serian is—was—a clan of royalty that originated in what you now call Baris,” he said, his voice again taking on that cultured tone. “One of the oldest royal lineages of Stolorths, predating the arrival of humans. In spite of that, we were known as progressives. We fought for space travel. We encouraged open diplomacy with Takas and with humans, when you came along. So much so that we opened our temples and academies to your representatives. You learned about us. You watched us work the Kyi.” He shook his head sadly. “You became fearful, your fear fueling the likes of Abbot Eng, but he wasn’t the only one.

  “Suddenly we were demons, hated. We were driven from Baris and massacred because of the policies the Serians instituted. So my grandfather did the only thing any noble Kyi would. Something that is demanded by what we are. He and his siblings, and my grandmother and hers, took their own lives. It is called rash’mh han enqerma. To give to the gods a sacrifice in exchange for an unspeakable wrong. They returned to the Great Sea. My parents were permitted to live because of my grandparents’ sacrifice.

  “I left Stol when I was twenty-two. I’ve never been back. I may not be blind like your friend Brother Ackravaro, but I am as much an outcast in Stol as he.” He reached for his glass of Lashto but didn’t drink it. “So I live now on the fringes of my ancestral home. And once again I see the massacre of innocents on the horizon. I was powerless to save my own people before. But I am not so powerless now. It is time for han rey qer—”

  “Revenge for the greater good,” Sully said softly.

  Del regarded him through hooded eyes. “You understand.”

  “More than you know.” He shifted in his chair then leaned forward. “I find I’m in need of a pilot. Would you be interested, Captain Regarth?”

  I understand why Sully made the offer. I just didn’t like it. Maybe it was because Del was a Stolorth Ragkiril, and Fleet training and prejudices still populated the recesses of my brain, my affection for Ren notwithstanding. Plus, Ren wasn’t a Ragkiril. He barely had Ragkir talents. Del was an overwhelming presence. Strong, sensual, confident. Charming. Very much like Sully, and I had my hands full with him.

  Though I didn’t mind having my hands full with him.

  Del was—

  “I’d be honored to serve as pilot,” Del said.

  —coming on board.

  Del, true to his word, paid the bar tab. I took at shot at making him reconsider. “You don’t have your own ship to attend to?”

  “A little beauty!” He adjusted his duffel’s strap on his shoulder. “I negotiated an excellent deal several years ago with a repair yard run by an Elarwin who works a magnificent refit.”

  “That wouldn’t be Yagiro, would it?” Sully asked.

  “The same.”

  “Woman’s a genius.”

  I’d been trailing behind them as we left the bar. I sidled next to Sully. “So shouldn’t you—?”

  “My crew and my pilot have a mission of their own,” Del said. “Not dissimilar to what we need to do. I can set a meetpoint with her once we have Burke taken care of. Where are you berthed?”

  “E-Level,” Sully said.

  “The lifts have been abysmal of late. We’ll take the stairs.”

  So were a lot of others, but at least people were moving up and down on the metal treads, not standing grumpily in line. This time I was on point, Sully and Del—taller—behind me. The stairwell blast doors were propped open, so I was looking straight out when I passed through, not down at where my hands would have been against the crash bars.

  A blue flash of laser fire ripped through my vision.

  “Down!” I screamed, but Sully’s hand was already on my shoulder, dragging me backward into the stairwell. My Stinger was in my hand but I didn’t return fire. I landed on my ass instead. Then Sully’s hands were in my armpits, pulling me upright.

  Chasidah!

  “Fine, I’m fine,” I told him as people barreled past, boots pounding up and down the stairs. An alarm wailed distantly in the corridor beyond the doorway.

  “This way!” Del shouted.

  We headed down.

  I caught flashes of information racing between Sully and Del as we flung ourselves down the stairwell. Our attackers—and they were after us—were a woman and a man, no uniforms.

  Feels like ImpSec assassins. That, from Del. Imperial Security Forces meant Fleet, or Tage using Fleet personnel. Not Narfial stripers, then. And not Purity Brigade.

  Not Purity. I’m scanning for them, Sully said. We slowed at the next landing because Del did. He was in front now, with Sully and me behind.

  Others stopped with us. More kept running. But as far as I knew, only two actually knew who fired the shots and who they were after. Del and Sully. If there were any other Ragkirils, they’d know.

  None, Sully told me. His eyes were dark and distant.

  Del glanced over his shoulder, his eyes equally as dark—but a deep shade of blue glistened in their depths. Stupid. They don’t know I’m here. Or what you are. I say we take them. And no one will ever know.

  A shout above us. A scream dying away. Images darted between Del and Sully, far beyond my ability to grasp.

  Behind me, Chasidah. Don’t argue.

  I stepped behind Sully but kept my Stinger out, no idea which pairs of boots in the cluster heading for us were our attackers.

  Suddenly a man tripped, his legs angling awkwardly. Seconds later, a woman tumbled over him, her pistol flying from her hands, her eyes wide. She screamed, the sound abruptly halting as her head hit the stairwell wall. Her neck snapped. Her body appeared almost pulverized.

  The man kept rolling but he was dead long before his shattered body hit the landing.

  People gathered around them. Someone shouted that the stripers were coming.

  This way. Del moved quickly and silently for the corridor. We’ll take the lift this time.

  Stripers were everywhere. Sully wrapped his arm around my shoulders, drawing me against him. Act frightened. They won’t see you as a threat.

  I didn’t have to try all that hard. Just because I was career Fleet didn’t mean I liked getting shot at. Or ambushed. Or liked seeing how easily a Ragkiril could shatter someone’s bones, or snap his neck with a mere thought. And not even a flicker of the Kyi whispering around him.

  It had all been Del, that much I was sure of. Besides being linked to Sully, I’d been physically touching him when the two ImpSec assassins appeared on the stairs. I felt no additional power surge, beyond what he was using to maintain our link at that point.

  And I had felt a slight twinge of surprise from him at what Del had done so easily.

  The station was still in an uproar when we reached E-Level, but whispers were going around that the minor crisis was over.

  “Couple of pirates on the bad end of a deal,” someone said.

  “Damned rafthkra addicts,” intoned someone else a bit farther down the corridor.

  “Stripers shot ’em,” a tall man in green coveralls announced to his group standing stiffly by a cargo bay door. “Party’s over. Back to work.”

  Marsh stepped back warily when Sully brought Del onto the bridge of the Karn, introducing him as the new pilot. I could understand his thought processes. Ren was blind, safe, accepted. The best or worst he could do was read rainbows, a person’s emotional resonances. But this tall, imposing guy was a fully sighted Stolorth. Who knows what he could do? Maybe nothing; most were empaths. But…

  “He has the schematics for Burke’s jukor ship,” Sully added.

  Marsh’s frown vanished. He stuck out his hand. “Welcome on board, Captain Regarth.”

  “Del,” the Stolorth corrected, taking Marsh’s hand. “Chasidah rightfully holds the title of captain on this ship.”

  “I’ve put in our departure request,” Marsh said, looking from Del to Sully to me. “Firs
t available slot is in an hour. I took it. Things are backed up because of some kind of accident on station.”

  Yes. Someone tried to kill us. Something we couldn’t tell Marsh without revealing what he didn’t know about Sully and Del. “I’ll take her out, but I’d like you on the bridge at that time,” I told Del. “The Karn has some interesting quirks you might need to be aware of.”

  Marsh snorted. “She’s Sully’s baby, that’s for sure.”

  “Why don’t you finish stowing your gear, then come up to the ready room in fifteen minutes to meet the rest of the crew?”

  “My pleasure, Captain.” Del smiled. “Mr. Sullivan, I have a few things you might be interested in seeing. If you’re not busy right now?”

  “I’m not,” Sully said. “Chaz?”

  “I’ll be in the ready room,” I told him as they headed for the corridor. “I have a feeling I have lots of system and traffic advisories to wade through.”

  Warmth cascaded through me, a small message from Sully. We’d made it. We were safe. I was loved. Then those invisible fingers that weren’t Sully’s tapped playfully on my nose.

  Don’t push your luck, Regarth.

  That’s not at all what I was pushing, Sullivan. Need I give you a lesson in female anatomy as well?

  Stop it, boys!

  The captain has spoken. I could feel Del’s silent chuckle.

  From Sully, not quite annoyance but more like exasperation.

  Introduce him to Dorsie, I told Sully, knowing Del heard me. She’ll keep him busy.

  Dorsie? Images flashed between the three of us. Ah, Mr. Sullivan. I do approve of your choice of officers and crew.

  I very clearly heard Sully sigh as I crossed through the hatchway into the ready room.

  Checkpoints and security procedures had doubled, not only due to the “accident on station” but the fallout from what had happened on Umoran. Fortunately, the Karn’s forged documents were second to none. It didn’t take me long to make the necessary changes to the ship’s databanks. I had the news feeds running as well. Nothing on Thad, no revelations about Gabriel Ross Sullivan. Just mourning on Umoran, and a growing list of the dead. Not all of the jukors had been captured yet.