by C. J. Barry
Grey's fury bore down on her. He spun her chair around to face him and planted his hands on the chair arms. His face lowered to inches from hers, his voice hissed low and deliberate. “I don't care how many people die on Dakru. Let them deal with their own problems. Our mission is complete, Cidra."
"And what happens when Tausek's forces crush the truth. No one, on or off Dakru, will defy him. Certainly not Avion. He will never be stopped or punished."
Grey shot Plass a murderous look. Then he turned his sights back to Cidra. “It's suicide and you know it.” He pointed to Plass. “He knows it."
She realized it at that moment. A line had been drawn. The sudden insight choked her even though she'd always known that at some point this would happen. He was going to make her choose between him and her mission. Make her choose between righting the wrongs of the past and her future with him. He didn't understand that they were one and the same. She couldn't have a future without rectifying the past. What kind of future would they have if Tausek continued to rule? The answer was easy. The choice was not.
Cidra reached out and stroked his cheek with her fingertips and uttered the words that would cost her the most important thing in her life. “I'd rather die this way than be hunted down again. The rest of my days won't be spent on the run.” Then she drew a breath, dropped her hand and released him. “You needn't worry. I won't drag you into it. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."
Cidra saw the flash of fire in his eyes before they turned cold as ice. She had done something that could never be undone. He might never forgive her for this.
Grey spoke in a quiet voice. “Then I won't stand in your way.” He straightened and walked out.
Plass nodded at Fiske to follow Grey.
Cidra didn't dare move for fear her tenuous grip on control would break. She had never seen that much anger in him, deep anger. Hurt and betrayal. Not even a glimmer of mercy. He didn't understand her decision, didn't realize it was a need as great as her need for him. The way he saw it, she had chosen the mission over him. She had betrayed his trust. A crush of pain and emptiness filled her.
In silence, Plass regarded her. The daughter of Jarid Faulkner continued to impress him. Under all that classic beauty was the heart of a saint and the courage of a warrior. Although he wasn't entirely sure of what had just happened, he could tell by the look on her face that she had just made a painful decision. Of all the people involved in this mess, she had sacrificed the most and deserved it the least.
"Everything he said was true. I may not be able to protect you. You owe nothing to Dakru,” Plass spoke solemnly.
Cidra met his gaze, her voice hard. “I owe it to the Kin-sha, to my father, and my family. To millions who died for Tausek's power and greed. And myself. That's enough for me."
Plass flicked his eyes to the door. “Will you go alone?"
Cidra paused. “If I have to.” Then she raised her chin. “You are."
"Yes, I am,” he replied solemnly, but the thought of Cidra alone with Tausek plagued his mind. He didn't doubt she could draw a confession from Tausek, but her safety afterward was a different issue. Plass decided to work on Captain Stone. She didn't have a chance without him. Despite what just happened, he believed Stone was the one man who would protect her to the death.
"Why?"
Her question startled him. “Why am I doing this?” Plass asked. She was assessing his motives and he hadn't given them conscious thought. It took him a minute to analyze all the complex emotions and principles that guided him to this point. Then he spoke reverently, “Tausek took something away from each of us. Some more than others, but we've all suffered. I have committed myself to making sure he pays for that."
Her blue eyes studied him, looking older and wiser than her age. “So have I."
"I think we have much in common,” Plass said.
Cidra's expression turned cold. “I doubt it."
Plass remained silent. After what the d'Hont did to her family, he deserved whatever she threw at him.
She didn't give up. “You could escape to another galaxy."
Plass raised an eyebrow. “I could no more do that than you could. We are both victims of Tausek and our own moral standards."
Apparently satisfied, Cidra pursued another question. “You said instant death was too good for Tausek. What do you have in mind?"
Plass smiled crookedly. “I thought he'd enjoy working in the Thorite mines."
Cidra nodded in approval and rose to leave.
"Will you join me for morning meal tomorrow?” Plass brought his fingers to his lips.
She turned to him. “Do I have a choice?"
"Of course. I am inviting you, not ordering you. I could arrange for a tour of the ship.” He knew she'd jump at a diversion from the detention quarters.
She pursed her lips. “Very well."
Cidra headed toward the exit but stopped just before the door with her back to him. Plass watched as she clenched and unclenched her fists. “Were you there that night?"
Plass stilled. He didn't have to ask where she meant. Her home, her family, that night ten years ago. Even though he owed her the truth, he couldn't take the chance that she might back out.
"No."
A deep sigh relaxed the tight muscles in her back and she walked out, leaving him alone with the horror of the past. Plass snarled when he realized Tausek had timed the Faulkner massacre perfectly. The d'Hont were ripe for the kill, their hands still dirty from burying their own loved ones.
When he opened his eyes again, a smoldering amber of hatred remained. How long had Tausek perfected his plan, setting the pawns in place, easing them toward the trap? How cold-hearted could one man be that conscience didn't alter his course? Had he calculated the losses and found them acceptable?
Plass’ hate for the man grew by the minute. He vowed to use the hatred fully.
* * * *
If she hadn't had a guard standing next to her, Cidra would have remained frozen in place in front of her and Grey's detention room door indefinitely. She should have asked Plass for another room. Two days in the same room with Grey would destroy what was left of her soul. Reluctantly, she activated the door and stepped onto the battlefield.
The lights were dimmed to near darkness, a sharp contrast to the brightly-lit corridors. When the door closed behind her, she stood in place and waited for her eyes to adjust. She could hear his breathing. There was nowhere to hide in the tiny room as she surveyed the lone chair and the large bed. That's where she saw him, lying on his back across the bed, his hands behind his head. He didn't acknowledge her, but she knew he was still awake.
She stared at him. He was so beautiful, dark and brooding. She loved his seriousness as much as his rare wit. The smile that streaked across his face when he laughed, the tenderness in his eyes when he touched her, the intelligence of his mind when he worked. She loved him down to every fiber of his being. Without a doubt, every one of those fibers hated her right now. No words could cut through that hate tonight. The battle would have to wait another day. The warrior within her was empty.
With a deep sigh, she walked to the opposite side of the bed and laid down next to him, careful not to touch any part of his sprawled body. Her body's automatic reaction to his familiar scent took her by surprise; it was oblivious to the mess her mind had made of their relationship. She turned her back to him, denying herself any further torment.
Defiant silence thundered. In one fell swoop, the weight of the day crushed her. She fought back the tears that burned her eyes, shoved the sob back down her throat. She would live with her decision and the fact that he would never understand or forgive her. But at least he would still be alive.
As sleep drew its heavy blanket over her, she wondered if she would ever forgive herself.
* * * *
Decker paced as a streak of curses came over the bridge comm unit aboard Calíbre. Barrios and Coon sat in command chairs while Rourke ranted through the comm unit.
<
br /> "When I get my hands on that thick-headed bastard, I'm going to kill him,” Rourke said. “I can't believe he would get into a mess like this and not tell me. Are you positive they are heading for Dakru?"
"Absolutely,” Decker said. “Two days from now. We're following Grey's personal signal, behind them by about thirty minutes."
Rourke mumbled in disgust. “How bad is it?"
Decker sighed. “Bad. I've heard a nasty rumor that Tausek is planning a self-worshipping military celebration with Cidra's dead body as the big entertainment."
Rourke swore. “So tell me if I've got this right. Grey and Cidra were captured by the d'Hont and are now being held in a d'Hont Class One cruiser heading to Dakru. All the d'Hont are going to be there for a military celebration. So basically, we are taking on the entire d'Hont force in their own home."
Decker winced. “Yeah, that's about it."
Rourke launched into a sardonic drawl, “Well, how difficult could it be to rescue them? Dakru only has the best military force in the galaxy with kick-ass weapons and an impenetrable planetary defense. And there's what, three of us? No problem. When do we start?"
Shifting in his chair, Decker piped up. “I didn't say it would be easy. You don't have to help us. We're prepared to handle it ourselves.” He ignored the identical horrified expressions on the faces of Barrios and Coon.
Barrios reached out and snagged his arm. He whispered low, “Speak for yourself, Decker. I, for one, want all the help we can get."
Decker waved him off and concentrated on the angry mutterings emanating from the comm. Not that the final outcome was ever really in doubt.
"I'm in,” Rourke finally grumbled.
Decker relaxed. “Great. Thanks. Thanks, a lot. Now. All we need is a plan."
"What?” Rourke boomed.
* * * *
Cidra wondered how it had come to pass that she should share a morning meal with her sworn enemy. Her mind was still grappling with the events of the past few days. Emotions warred within her, rising one by one to be addressed by her overwhelmed brain. The stress of tackling it alone was wearing her down.
Melodious, benign music drifted lightly around her and Commander Plass as they ate alone in Expunger's domed executive dining area. The mottled blue-green and gold walls were a welcome departure from the sheer monotony of gray and silver in the rest of the ship. High golden stools ringed an impressive raised center table, topped with a polished black stone slab.
Plass watched her as he ate. She appeared reserved, wary, and tired. No doubt, the conflict with Stone was the reason. She needed to be rested and ready to face Tausek in less than two days. Plass realized he'd have to work fast.
"Is your meal satisfactory?"
Cidra startled but collected herself quickly. “Fine. It's fine."
Plass raised an eyebrow when she laid down her fork and turned to him. “What's going to happen once we get to Dakru?"
Plass reached for his drink. “Expunger will remain in orbit around Dakru, directly over the Capital City. You, Lieutenant Fiske and I will take a transport to the surface. Major Berman and his men will land their ships at the city's outer slave bays. Major Holtz and his forces will remain aboard Expunger."
"And once we land on Dakru?” Cidra persisted.
"You will be brought to Tausek's chambers located on the top floor of his tower building."
Cidra looked him dead in the eye. “And you? Tausek knows you have turned against him. He will arrest you the minute we land on the planet."
Plass met her gaze. “Correct. This entire plan is contingent on your success. Lieutenant Fiske will see to it that your conversation is broadcast. Once it airs, I should be released.” Noting the skepticism in her eyes, he added, “If not, Major Berman's units will protect you."
"You don't believe that any more than I do.” She snorted slightly. “I have no delusions, Commander."
Plass waited for her to back down from the plan. She didn't.
The dining quarter doors opened, admitting Grey and Lieutenant Fiske. There was a momentary break in Grey's step when he saw Cidra.
"How was your tour, Captain?” Plass asked.
Grey narrowed his eyes at Plass, knowing he'd been set up. “Most impressive, but I'm sure you already knew that."
Plass looked pleased. “Yes, I did. Expunger is the most advanced starship in the fleet. A pleasure to command.” He motioned to two stools nearby. “Please join us."
Fiske stepped forward. “Nothing for me, sir. I'll wait outside."
Cidra cleared her throat and addressed Fiske directly, “If you don't mind Lieutenant, I would also like a tour."
Fiske shot Plass a surprised look. Plass gave him a nod.
"Perhaps later today would be better,” Fiske began hesitantly.
Cidra slid off her stool. “Actually, now is a perfect time."
She turned to Plass. “I would appreciate it if you could assign me to another detention cell, Commander."
Plass nodded. “Of course."
She turned back to Fiske and flashed him a stellar smile. “Lead the way, Lieutenant.” She followed him out the door.
Grey was livid. How dare she act that way toward a d'Hont—cavorting with the enemy? She practically threw herself at the man. She was his mate. A rage he couldn't name tightened every muscle in his body.
Plass said nothing as the tension built in silence. A meal was served unnoticed to Grey.
"She is a remarkable woman,” Plass said.
Grey raised his eyes slowly to Plass'. “What ... is that supposed to mean?"
Plass continued, “Intelligent, strong, striking. And more courageous than anyone aboard this ship. Wouldn't you agree?” Plass took a bite of food.
"So?” Grey's tone was clipped and barely restrained.
"So much promise. It's a shame to see it destroyed.” Plass shook his head. “She will never survive facing Tausek alone. He won't let her leave his quarters alive. She knows it."
Grey snapped, “You bastard. How can you send her?"
"I have no choice. Her sacrifice will save countless lives.” Plass shrugged. “Besides, she's sending herself. How can she do otherwise? This is her destiny, her charge."
As Plass spoke, anger swamped Grey. This mission would end up killing her. That was the part that gnawed at him. The part he couldn't accept or condone. She had made the choice knowing it would drive them apart, knowing it would destroy their future. When all she had to do was walk away.
Plass was saying, “After Expunger is in orbit over Dakru, you will be allowed to contact your ship. They can pick you up anytime."
"No, they won't,” Grey mumbled.
"Did you say something, Captain?"
Grey glared at him. “Cidra's not going to face Tausek alone."
Plass gave him a pointed look. “I don't think she wants your help."
Grey stabbed a piece of food with his fork. “You let me worry about that."
* * * *
"This the stupidest idea I have ever heard,” muttered Barrios. “No one is going to believe that we are entertainers, much less musicians."
His round face was propped in his hands as he eyed the comm unit in the center of Grey's office.
"What do you expect on such short notice? You're lucky my people work fast,” Rourke's irritated voice came through the unit. “Can you think of another way to get down on that planet in one piece?"
"But why a band?” Barrios questioned in exasperation.
"Every available performing act in the sector is being recruited to play Dakru for this celebration,” Rourke answered. “Hangtime is a popular new group from Vaasa. Three male band members. We fit their general descriptions close enough to pass. We can't ask for more than that. It's a perfect cover. It will position us in the middle of the capital city. We can even smuggle our weapons inside the equipment."
Decker tapped on the table in thought. “When was this group scheduled to arrive?"
"Tomorrow afternoon. A d
ay early to setup,” Rourke reported.
Decker nodded. “The timing is right. We won't raise suspicions by arriving unexpectedly. When will your ship reach the coordinates we agreed upon?"
"We'll arrive early tomorrow morning,” Rourke stated.
Decker said confidently, “Calíbre will join you mid-morning."
"And the d'Hont cruiser?” Rourke asked.
"Unless they change their minds, tomorrow morning just before us,” Decker said. “What are we going to do if the real band shows up? Our cover will be blown."
"Not a problem.” Rourke chuckled. “Being creative souls, they don't take orders well, especially from Tausek. They were more than happy to accept my offer to find a replacement for them. I've got the security code they were issued to land on Dakru, boys. We are in."
Decker shook his head. “You do work fast. I appreciate it. We'll be ready to go the minute we drop out of hyperspace over Dakru. See you tomorrow."
Decker cut the communications and leaned far back in his chair.
Barrios pressed his fingers to his eyes. “This is never going to work."
Decker grinned. “Worried about being mobbed by crazed fans?"
"No,” Barrios mumbled. “I'm worried someone will ask me to sing."
* * * *
Cidra entered her newly assigned quarters with profound relief. The Expunger tour that had taken most of the day was little more than a blur. She had monopolized Lieutenant Fiske for as long as she could, but her mind and soul were still occupied with the most recent confrontation with Grey at breakfast. His furious expression remained etched in her mind.
She surveyed the grand room, slowly registering its contents. It was about as far from a detention room as she could imagine. Official guest quarters would be her guess. Being considered a pampered guest aboard a d'Hont cruiser did nothing for her state of mind.
Subtle lighting splashed over the rich burgundy colored walls, an elegant couch, and several chairs in a deep rose and gold. Plush flooring picked up all the colors in the room. Lavishly ornamented tables and trim work accented the grand quarters. But it was the massive, graceful bed that caught her attention.