To Touch the Stars

by Tess Mallory

"Yes. And you're going to help me get her out of here."

  His words were like a cold dash of water in the face. Eagle laughed.

  "Help you take the child my father has sought for years off of Station One?" He shook his head. "I don't think so." Once again the barrel of the blaster was thrust against the side of his face. "C'mon, Telles," he said, gauging the distance between the two men as well as the grip his captor had on the weapon. He wasn't sure he could take him, but it appeared he might have to try. "You know I can't do that."

  "You don't understand, Eagle. She healed me. She's the one who brought me back."

  Eagle heard the information but it took a full minute for it to reach his brain. He frowned, sure he had heard wrong. "She did what? She brought you back—from where?"

  Telles sighed, lowering the blaster slightly, his golden hair sending shadows across his face. "From the darkness, from death."

  Eagle leaned toward him, his voice fervent. "The only darkness I care about is the darkness you're going to see when Zarn tosses you into a solitary confinement cell.

  Damn it, man, you're a Forces soldier! If she really is the heir to the throne, you know what it will mean if you take her out of here."

  "I'm not with the Forces anymore."

  "So who are you with?" He knew the answer even as the man opened his mouth to reply. He groaned aloud and cut him off "Aw, hell, Telles, don't tell me you finally did it. Don't tell me you finally joined those damned rebels you were always talking about."

  "Why, Colonel, if I didn't know better, I'd swear you could read minds." Telles turned the setting knob on the side of the phaser he held with two fingers, keeping his gaze on the other man. Eagle tensed, watching for his chance to attack.

  The explosion came without warning, throwing the two men to the floor. The child sprawled nearby, but still did not utter a word as the two men grappled for the weapon that had been knocked from Telles's hand. They fought each other, rolling over the smooth surface, fists flailing, legs flying. Eagle almost had the weapon, when another explosion rocked the office and the phaser spun out of his reach. Telles picked it up and stumbled to his feet, grabbing the little girl by the arm.

  "This isn't over, Eagle," he said as another explosion ripped the air. "There's more you have to know!" He hesitated another instant, then lifted a communicator to his lips and said something. The air around them shimmered, sizzled, and he and the child simply disappeared.

  "Transporter," Eagle whispered, then jumped to his feet and made it to the com unit before another quake shook the ground. "Report!" he shouted. "Anyone! What's happening?"

  The unit crackled and spewed and finally a voice came back to him, confirming what he already knew. "Colonel!" Millon cried. "We are under attack!"

  Chapter Two

  "Calm down, Millon. Just tell me what the hell happened." Eagle purposely calmed his own voice but his muscles were taut, prepared for battle.

  "Spacecraft attacking, Colonel," Millon said, his voice more even. "They just came out of nowhere and ordered us to lower our shields or be blasted by plasma-ray. Before I could even contact you they started firing. That's why we're being rocked, but so far our shields are holding."

  "We're just feeling the resonance," Eagle mused, rubbing the back of his neck. "They're probably still too far away to punch holes."

  "Yes, sir, but they're coming closer fast!"

  "Who the hell are they? Are they out of their minds?"

  "They're signaling again. Should I—" The unit suddenly went dead.

  Eagle whirled from the device and headed for the weapons locker in the corner of the office. He deactivated the lock and took out a fully charged phaser rifle. As an afterthought, he shoved three thermal grenades into his jacket pocket. He turned in time to see ten forms materialize outside the curved observation window.

  Cursing roundly, he ran back to the com and snapped it on. "All officers, we've been invaded, repeat, we have invaders. Battle stations, I repeat—"

  The explosion that blew his door into a million fragments caught him from behind, sending him flying across the room and skidding flat on his back for several feet before coming to a stop against the weapons locker. The sound of booted feet thundering into his office made it through his stunned senses, and he managed to lift himself to his elbows only to be thrust back again suddenly, the breath knocked from him as a heavy weight descended on his chest. Cold metal pressed against his temple, then slid across his cheek, turning his face toward the man sitting on top of him. No, not a man, a droid, studded with what looked to be tynarium pellets. Illegal. Had they come with Telles? Most likely. They were mercenaries or privateers, but what in hell did they think they were doing attacking one of the Kalimar's strongholds? They must be insane.

  The droid on top of him leaned forward and Eagle blinked, realizing all at once that the creature had the body of a female. Clad in silver, the droid had been fashioned to resemble a woman from the neck down. The head was a typical helmetlike apparatus whose front-piece mimicked a human's face. But why the female body? Eagle tensed. It was possible they weren't outlaws but Psyks, a group of certifiably crazy renegades who killed for the love of killing and feared no man, not even Lord Zarn, ruler of a dozen systems, undisputed dictator of Andromeda. Eagle felt his throat go suddenly dry. The children. If they were Psyks and they reached the children… He ran his tongue over his dry lips and tried to speak.

  "Silence," the droid said, its voice toneless. "You will not speak. You will listen and if you do not obey you will be destroyed, you and all of this despicable planet."

  Eagle frowned. It sounded like a droid but its choice of words was rather emotional for a machine. He cleared his throat and opened his mouth again only to have the muzzle of the weapon the thing held thrust between his lips and halfway down his throat.

  "I said be silent."

  Eagle nodded his understanding and almost gagged before the droid finally removed the weapon. He lay gasping for breath beneath the heavy mechanism, wishing he could just get one good lungful of air before he died.

  "Where is she?"

  He stopped worrying about breathing and started worrying about answering. They were here for Zarn's prize. "You told me to be silent," he said. "Make up your mind."

  The hand of the droid lifted and Eagle winced as it came crashing down. There was no way to avoid the backhanded blow across the side of his face, and his neck snapped to one side.

  "We will not waste time with you, Guardian, or should we call you murderer—mindstealer—defiler of children!"

  Eagle shook the hair back from his brow and tried to get a better look at his assailant, ignoring the pain throbbing through his right jaw and the jagged cut the edge of one metallic finger had gouged in his cheek. Droids did not speak like this. His gaze raked over the female body, the helmet, and belatedly he realized he was likely looking at a human garbed in a tynarium suit. Also illegal. His suspicion he was dealing with Psyks grew by the moment.

  "What do you want?" he managed to gasp.

  "We want the child brought to you by the demon Zarn. We want her now."

  "What for?"

  He was rewarded for his question by another blow, this one catching him across the mouth. Blood poured down his throat from his busted lower lip and almost choked him. He rocked upward, hoping to dislodge the weight on his chest, but the droid pushed him back down.

  "To sacrifice to the gods for all you care. Give her to us or not a man will leave this planet alive!"

  Someone walked up beside the droid-woman at that moment and Eagle blinked, trying to clear his vision. It was a man, tall, thin, with the blue skin and hair of an Altairian. He didn't have the look of a Psyk, but you never could tell. He bent down and whispered something to the droid-woman and instantly it/she stood, relieving the pressure from his chest. Eagle drank in great lungfuls of air, then gasped as a pain laced through his side. A broken rib? Probably. He started to wrap his arms around his middle, but tucked down the natural reacti
on of his body. If they knew where he was hurt, they would likely try to reinjure that spot to make him talk.

  "Manak!" The droid-woman flung the curse skyward and spun back around to stab one long silver finger at him, her bland metal features belying the fierceness suddenly empowering the droning voice coming out of the helmet. "May the god of light damn you to an eternal torture!" Without warning, the droid-woman unsnapped several fasteners at the neck of her suit. Lifting both hands, she wrenched the helmet upward, pulling it off and tossing it savagely aside. It hit the wall with a dull thud, but Eagle was not watching its fall. His gaze was locked on the sight before him.

  Silver-blond hair cascaded around the features of the woman glaring down at him, dark brows arching in contrast above two slanted, catlike turquoise blue eyes, intelligent, presently filled with fire, edged with long, dark lashes. A silver band encircled her forehead. Quickly Eagle re evaluated his captor. Human, no doubt about that. Probably Andromedan. One square-jawed face with a determined, stubborn chin. High, sculptured cheekbones. One nose, straight, aristocratic. Full, beautifully shaped lips drawn back in an angry line.

  "Hell," Eagle breathed softly. "What kind of Psyks are you?"

  The woman crossed back to him and, leaning down, grabbed him by the uniform just under his chin. She lifted him from the floor in one smooth movement, heaving him above her until his feet were dangling in the air. His bruised ribs complained loudly, and he couldn't help groaning aloud.

  "She's gone, you son of a bitch!" she shouted, shaking him with her metallic fist. "A ship left orbit just after we landed. Where is she, space-boy? You'd better start talking if you want to save the rest of this stinking world."

  "Aren't they with you?" he asked groggily, even as understanding rippled through him.

  Telles! He'd taken the child and used the diversion of the invaders to get away. He hadn't been part of this band of renegades at all.

  Eagle hung helplessly above her, suspended by her super strength. Dazed, he stared down into two beautiful eyes, so angry, so passionate, and wondered how a woman like her had become a Psyk. She didn't really seem crazy—just furious.

  "Where is she?" she demanded again, giving him a shake.

  "I don't know," he said at last. Blood dripped from the gash in his face and his lip and splattered on her chest.

  With a curse she let him fall to the floor. He hit the surface with a grunt, rolling to his feet, wincing as he staggered upright. Instantly he was surrounded by the rest of the invaders. They were a well-groomed bunch, all wearing nondescript uniforms of a dirty green color. They were from a variety of cultures, he reasoned, noting a few extra ears here and there and variations of skin tones. All biped homo sapiens though, so they were from this galaxy. They didn't have the look of Psyks, now that he saw them all. Psyks were raving maniacs whose trademarks included savage body piercings and brightly painted skin. So if they weren't Psyks—who were they? And why did they want the girl—unless they knew she was the heir to the throne? Of course. Why else would they be here? Obviously the woman was the leader, and from the glint of determination in her eyes, he assessed she was not one to be taken lightly. Still, if she wasn't insane, maybe he could negotiate with her.

  "Listen, I—"

  He saw her nod to the man beside him but didn't have time to prepare for the stunning blow of the phaser blast that caught him in the back of the neck and sent him spiraling down toward unconsciousness.

  "You won't find her without me," he had the sense to whisper just before the light disappeared. Her voice was the last sound he heard. "Then, space-boy, get ready for the ride of your life."

  "He's Lord Zarn's what?"

  Sky spun around and stared at her head security officer, hands on her hips. Kell stood silently next to him.

  "His son, Captain," P'ton said, giving her a second salute to accent his deep-throated words.

  "Why the hell didn't our intelligence people tell us that before we hit the Station? We could have eliminated the future of Zarn's empire right then and there!" Kell raised one brow. "I've yet to see you kill someone in cold blood."

  "There's always a first time. Well, this is just great," she muttered.

  "I would say it is a gift from the gods, if you believe in such things," Kell said. "Depending on how attached the commander is to his son, we may be able to negotiate a trade—Mayla for the colonel." Kell stood near the closed door, his arms folded over his chest.

  Sky laughed, the sound harsh and mocking. "Are you out of your mind? Zarn thinks we have Mayla. He will follow us and blast us out of the sky for having the effrontery to take both his son and his prize!" She shook her head, lifting her hand unconsciously to the silver band at her temples. "We've got to make the colonel tell us where she's been taken before Zarn gets word we've attacked the station."

  Kell crossed to her side. "May I speak to you in private, Captain?"

  Sky pressed her lips together. As much as she hated leaving her security chief out of the loop, right now he, along with the rest of the crew, was on a need-to-know basis. She trusted P'ton, but the rest of this conversation was better held without him.

  "Thank you for your report, P'ton," she said, turning and giving him a grim smile. "You've shed some much needed light on this dark day. Any other data you may remember may be directly submitted into my computer site. You are dismissed."

  The man saluted her sharply and she returned the gesture, fist to her chest then hand thrust outward on a level even with her shoulders, palm down, fingers together. He turned on his heel and headed out of the room, pausing only long enough for the automatic doors to open in front of him.

  "He's a good man." Sky shot Kell a reprimanding look.

  "Don't you think the head of my security should be in on this?"

  "Not yet." He gestured toward a chair. "Let's sit down, shall we? You've got some tough decisions to make, and I have some recommendations to make concerning them." He lifted one blue brow. "That is, if you are interested in hearing them."

  His terse manner made Sky realize she had once again let her tendency to command everyone and everything around her get the upper hand. Kell was her best friend, and she valued his opinion above all others.

  "I'm sorry, Kell," she said softly, sinking down into the chair opposite his. "Of course I want to hear your recommendations. I'm just so worried about Mayla." She broke off as her throat closed convulsively around the name. Tears brimmed against her lashes and she reached up to brush them away, laughing apologetically. "I hope none of the crew walks in on me when I'm having one of these crying jags. It wouldn't do much for morale for them to see their tough, cynical captain boo-hooing over her little sister."

  Kell reached inside his jacket and brought out a soft cloth. He handed it to her and his stem lips eased into a smile as she blew her nose loudly.

  "Don't worry about the crew. They understand more than you realize. Mayla is more than your little sister, she's almost your own child. After all, you've raised her since she was three years old." He lifted her chin and tilted her head upward. His smile grew even softer and Sky felt a slight pang at the concern she saw reflected in his blue eyes. She knew Kell's feelings for her were more than friendship, much as he tried to deny it, but she also knew he had accepted that what she felt for him could never be more. "Don't beat yourself up for having emotions, Sky," he said. "Most humans do."

  "Even you?" she teased, taking his hand from her chin and squeezing it slightly.

  The brow arched upward again. "Just because I have chosen to live my life in a logical way, never suppose I don't have feelings. I control my feelings. That does not mean I don't choose to use them from time to time."

  Sky grinned at him wholeheartedly then. "I'd love to tell the crew what a softie you really are. They all think you're a cold-blooded—"

  "I know exactly what they think of me," he said, rising from his chair. "And I am not unaware of the prejudices that exist against me on board."

  "Prejudices?" Sky
laughed but the sound was hesitant. She had somehow wandered onto dangerous ground now and she knew it. Kell might claim to have complete control over his emotions, but she knew the subtle slights behind his back did not go unnoticed. "You're the most respected man on the ship," she insisted.

  "Thank you, Captain." The sudden tension in his pale blue face faded as he smiled down at her. "Now, what shall we do about the prisoner?"

  Sky stood and felt the mantle of command settling firmly around her shoulders once again, her fears for Mayla's safety necessarily pushed to the back of her mind as she considered her next move.

  "Have him stripped and taken to the lower cargo hold," she said, her voice suddenly hard. "Get one of the tables we use for emergency surgeries from sickbay and set it up down there. Strap him to it. Bring up that equipment we liberated from one of Zarn's outposts."

  Kell stared at her without answering for a moment and she allowed anger, brief but potent, to touch her gaze. "Well, Lieutenant?" she demanded. "Are you sure that—"

  "Set it up and report back to me. I'll be in my quarters." She stalked toward the doorway. "And find out if news of the attack on Station One has reached Andromeda yet." The doors parted.

  "Captain—" The exasperation in her first officer's voice stopped her and she turned back, noting the open disapproval on his face. "What in the world are you planning to do to this man?"

  She hesitated before squaring her shoulders and hardening her gaze. "Whatever it takes," she said softly. "Whatever in hell that it takes."

  Eagle came back to consciousness slowly, one piece of his brain at a time, as he tried to ascertain where he might be. He couldn't see—sight was always one of the last senses to return after a blast from a phaser set on stun—along with the ability to move. He doubted there had been time to reach another world, but then, how did he really know how long he'd been unconscious? The pain returned next, his cracked or broken ribs reminding him of his ordeal with the droid-woman. He tried to breathe shallowly as his vision at last began to clear, but he was still quite literally left in the dark.