by Linda Mooney
“Departing hyperspace in three … two … one. We’re coming up on the Melini-Tarmi system,” Hunter informed them as the ship jiggled. “There’s going to be some jostling as we get around these outer planets, so make sure you’re securely buckled in.”
Star opened her eyes to find his gaze directed at her. She couldn’t quite figure out why he appeared slightly amused, until it hit her.
As a hunter, I need to know what my prey is feeling. Your feelings just spiked when I mentioned getting something to wear.
Oh, dearest heavens! He knew exactly what was going through her mind, as well as through her body. “Wipe that smirk off your face, Hunter,” she breathed softly so only he could hear.
Her answer was a grin and a slow shake of his head as he concentrated on their entry, making her hope he was having just as much difficulty keeping his mind on the moment at hand as she was.
They soared under a ring of asteroids as they approached the quadrant where the Ombitra had been reported. It was Bruiser who sighted them first. “Heads up. Cruisers at two o’clock.”
There were eight of them, looking eerily beautiful, like a string of etched teardrops.
Star undid her harness and got to her feet, leaning closer to the viewscreen to examine how they were grouped. At her elbow, Hunter softly whispered, “Think you can take them?”
“Won’t know until I try, right?” She smiled back.
Deceiver moved forward to join them. “Star, we’re going to let you have first crack at them. All you need to do is see if you can stop them dead in their tracks. Nothing more. Got that?”
At her nod, the Guardian leader turned around to address the others. “If Star can immobilize just one of them, we’ll know we have a chance. But if she can’t touch them, we’ll try Commander’s disrupter and keep our fingers crossed. Everyone in a suit. Now. No sense taking any more risks than we have to. Hunter, you, too.”
“Hey, Deceiver?” Time Merchant swiveled around in his seat. “Incoming communications.”
“From who?”
As the man honed in on the signal, Hunter handed Star an earpiece. She stared at it before taking it from him. Their eyes locked, and an unspoken message passed between them. Their exchange, although brief, was noticed by everyone watching them.
As Star entered the airlock, Time Merchant reported back, “It’s from the Committee. For Hunter and Star.”
“Lock it in,” Hunter ordered. There was no time to stop what they were doing, just to listen to another recorded message. It would have to wait.
The door closed behind her, and they watched Star shoot away from the ship as they donned their protective suits. “Oh, this will be a piece of cake,” Star cooed over the intercom. “Melini-Tarmi is a double star system!”
Deceiver touched his headset to answer. “Yes, but they’re small stars. Are you sure you can soak up enough juice to put one of those ships into a spin?”
“Negative to negative, or positive to positive? This should be an interesting experiment. Hunter, can you put a little more distance between us? You might be right at the edge of my throw.”
“Copy that, Star. Retreating one spacial mile.”
“Hunter.”
He glanced over to see Time Merchant’s hand on the communications toggle. “What?”
“Committee has put a code one on their message.”
Everyone halted what they were doing, and turned to stare at the bridge.
Outside, Star was positioning herself between the double suns and the Ombitran ships, which hadn’t moved since their arrival. It was almost as if the enemy had expected them, and was waiting to see what the Guardians had to offer. Hunter turned back to Time Merchant. “Lock it in,” he repeated.
“I did, but they’re sending in an override.”
“I’m going to aim for the lead ship,” Star’s voice told them. In the distance she was a graceful acrobat lifting her arms, her body extended in a perfect arch, but compared in size to the Ombitra, she was a mere speck.
One ship. That was all she had to affect. One ship.
“Hunter!” Time Merchant called out again, just as override took effect.
“This is a class one communications durective from the Handfast Committee to Terrin DiLyric, also known as StarLight. Do not, repeat, do not use Starlight powers! Answer affirmative that message has been received! This is a class one communications directive from the Handfast Committee to Terrin DiLyric, also known as StarLight. Do not, repeat, do not—”
Hunter reached over the console and manually turned off the volume on the override. The signal continued to come in, but at least it was no longer blaring over the ship’s speakers.
“By all that’s holy, what is that all about?” Disaster asked.
Reaching for his headset, Time Merchant switched their signals over to a different frequency, and Star’s voice suddenly bubbled in overhead.
“…to do, Deceiver? Please advise.”
“Repeat, Star? We just redirected your signal,” Deceiver responded.
“What do you want me to do?” Outside, they could see she was hovering but unmoving.
“It’s a class one directive, Star. Do not use your powers. Come back to the ship,” Deceiver ordered her.
“But—”
“No buts, Star,” Hunter interrupted. “I agree, there had better be a damn good reason why the Committee sent a class one, but right now’s not the time to discuss it.”
“Want me to send the affirmative?” Time Merchant asked.
Hunter nodded. “Maybe it’ll shut them up and get them out of our squawk box so we can get our work done without any more interruptions.”
“Which means we go to Plan Two,” the Guardian leader announced. “Commander! It’s your game now.”
As ordered, Star returned to the ship, but opted to remain outside and help the others mount the disrupter onto the side of Three. Once it was secured, Commander aimed it at the nearest enemy vessel, and turned it on.
“This is starting to get under my skin,” Corona muttered through her headset. “Why don’t they move? Why don’t they fire at us?”
“Yeah,” Provoker agreed. “It’s like they’re … waiting for us to do something.”
“Waiting to see what we got,” Morning Fire breathed. “After all, it’s been four years.”
Glancing over at the woman floating nearby, Commander said, “Better watch from inside the ship, Star. I don’t know what kind of kick this thing will have, or if there will be any side effects.”
She nodded and went inside the airlock. If the untested disrupter had any kind of power, at least the transport’s hull would protect her.
“Deceiver, we’re ready,” Commander informed.
“All right. It’s your project. Go for it.”
Aiming the bowl-shaped antenna toward the enemy vessel, Commander said, “Beginning with a dozen short bursts, just to see what they do. Mark. On five. Four. Three. Two. One. Firing.”
The disrupter burped a dozen times, spraying invisible magnetic charges at the glittering ships. Fifteen Guardians held their breaths, hoping for some sign the machine had made a dent, or at least scratched the surface.
Eight crystalline Ombitran spaceships remained in a tight, unmoving line.
“Crap!”
“It’s all right, Commander,” Deceiver tried to soothe the man. “Let’s try a continuous stream this time. A ten-second flow, for beginners.”
“Copy, Deceiver.”
Inside the airlock, Star felt the dozen bursts rip through her. The pain was substantial, but the shock was greater. They pierced her with invisible knives, leaving behind bloodless wounds that nearly sent her careening into the side of the ship. Through her headset she could hear the order for Commander to fire a single stream. Slamming her hand on the big red palm lock, the inner door slid open and she fell inside just as the disrupter hummed.
It was like locking her entire body in permanent stasis, stopping her breathing, stopping her
heart. Shutting down every functioning synaptic nerve until the universe no longer existed. Star gasped once before losing consciousness and all signs of life.
For the duration of nearly half a minute, she was listed as clinically dead.
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Chapter 23
Confirmation
Star gasped as her starved lungs sought to breathe. Her whole body convulsed as nerve endings came to bright, flaming life, and she cried out from the pain. She could feel her skin tingling, and a wave of warmth invaded her senses. A calming passed over her, through her. An unspoken reassurance told her she would be all right.
Someone had covered her in a blanket. Vaguely she could tell she was lying flat on her back. Taking another deep, raspy breath, Star somehow managed to turn her face toward the presence she knew was there. “Udo?”
“I’m here,” his voice quickly confirmed. It was loving, and hoarse with tears.
“The … disrupter…”
“It’s off, Star. Oh, dearest heavens, I’m sorry. Forgive me. I had no idea it would do that to you.” It was Commander’s voice, also filled with tears, regret, and anger at himself.
“Ombitra?” She struggled to open her eyes. Her lids felt like they were glued to her lower lashes.
“They’re gone.” This time it was Deceiver.
Focusing, Star found her center and discovered it was totally depleted. Somehow managing to turn her head back in Hunter’s direction, she weakly said, “Need … sun.”
The blanket was removed. Strong arms lifted her, cradled her. She heard the whoosh of the airlock, then the void of silence as the pressure dropped. Over the headset still in her ear, Time Merchant’s voice said, “Positioning the ship twenty-two thousand spacial miles from Melini-Tarmi. This is as close as we can get, Hunter, without the gravitational pull dragging us in.”
“Copy that, Merchant. Thanks,” Hunter responded. His voice vibrated in her ear.
He adjusted her head upon his shoulder, protecting her against his wide chest. Star felt a smile reach her lips. Bliss would always be within the circle of his arms.
The outer hull door opened soundlessly, and Hunter launched them toward the small double star. Almost immediately, despite the fact that the two yellow suns were weaker than the one at home, she could feel herself filling and warming from their touch.
“Star?” His voice was tender. He could sense her growing stronger. Slowly, Star opened her eyes to see how dark and troubled she appeared, reflected in his blue ones.
“Hey, big boy. Fancy meeting you out here.” She smiled gently.
“Oh, crap, Star. You nearly scared the life out of me!”
“So I passed out. No big deal, Hunter.”
He shook his head, and over her headset she could hear the others’ reactions. “No, my heart. You didn’t pass out. You died.”
This time she stared at him. “I what?”
“For about thirty seconds, you were gone. The ship confirmed it.” He paused, knowing the rest in the ship could overhear, but realizing he no longer cared. “I thought I’d lost you.”
The little double stars were working their magic. Nuzzling her cheek against Hunter’s shoulder, Star told him, “It’s going to take a lot more than one of Commander’s gizmos to put this tough bitch down.”
Ghostly voices tittered in her ear as the two of them floated just beyond the ship. After another five minutes, she could move her arms and legs.
“You said the Ombitra are gone?” she asked, letting them hear her returning strength in her question. Hunter took her cue and returned them to the airlock.
“Yeah,” Deceiver said. “When we saw you fall into the ship, I yelled for Commander to kill the switch. Hunter reached you first, and when the computer told us you had no vital signs, it was total confusion in here. Some time after that, Corona noticed the ships were gone.”
“So you don’t know if the disrupter worked or not,” Star wondered aloud.
“We were in a panic,” Morning Fire’s voice filtered in. “We dropped our defenses. Why the Ombitra didn’t take advantage, we have no idea.”
Inside the airlock, Hunter started to set her on her feet, but Star reached up to hold fast to his neck. He gave her a loving look as he held her tighter.
As the inner doors closed behind them, Hunter finally released her. Almost immediately the others crowded around her to welcome her back. Star glanced over at the man standing near the kitchenette, and strode over to him. Guilt and shreds of grief clouded his face as Commander lifted his eyes at her. Wordlessly, Star wrapped her arms around the man’s neck and pressed her lips to his. He remained standing there with a dazed expression, and the others stood in shock at the tableau, unable to believe what they were seeing. Star’s body suit may have left little to the imagination, but she had always made it known no hand was to touch her, and no man was to make any unwanted advances. Which was why rumors and untruths about her supposed sexual escapades made such juicy gossip, and made it too easy to accept the possibility that the frigid space queen hid the heart of a tramp. This show of warmth and forgiveness was as unexpected as it was unbelievable.
Rearing back, Star gave the man an understanding smile before wagging a finger under his nose. “Hey, you didn’t know it would do what it did. And you did warn me to get out of range. But the next time you have to mess around with anything magnetic, Commander, give me fair warning first, so I can get my butt off-planet. All right?”
The man expelled the air he had been holding. “All right,” Commander promised.
“Speaking of off-planet,” Deceiver broke in, “we need to reconnoiter and try to figure out why the Ombitra basically hit and ran. Why didn’t they fire on us when we arrived? Why strike once, then sit back and watch us? Why slip away when we were at our weakest, without any further show of aggression?”
“This is getting freakier and freakier. In fact, these last encounters don’t add up.” Condemner rubbed his temples. “If I hadn’t seen they were Ombitra for myself, I would have sworn it wasn’t the same enemy.”
“Hunter.”
They all turned toward Time Merchant, who had returned to his seat at the bridge. “Another message is coming in from the Committee.”
“Did you send in the affirmative?” Hunter asked.
“Yeah, but this one is labeled as their response.”
“Good.” He strode over to the panel and flipped the switch to open two-way communications. “I want to know why they think they can order Star to cease using her power, when there was every chance she could have—”
“Affirmative received that Terrin DiLyric, also known as StarLight, has not used Star powers while on assignment. This is a class one directive from the HandFasat Committee. As per orders from med lab, Terrin DiLyric is not to Star powers. Repeat. Terrin DiLyric is not to use Star powers. Med lab has confirmed that exposure to Star powers would seriously harm or destroy developing fetus. This is a class one—”
Star stumbled backwards as the words continued to blare over the transport’s speakers. A hand flew up to her mouth as her skin turned cold, and all the blood pooled to the center of her chest. Exposure to star powers would seriously harm or destroy developing fetus.
Understanding was a gut punch, knocking all the wind of out her, and she bent over with a small cry. Powerful hands reached out and grabbed her, and suddenly she was being held in his arms as her mind tried to cope with the news.
“…extend our congratulations to the HandFast couple. As per directive, this HandFast is officially ended, and both parties are released from further responsibility. Terrin DiLyric is hereby ordered to report immediately to med lab for testing, indoctrination, and counseling. This is a class one directive from—”
Time Merchant’s hand slapped the toggle, shutting off the announcement in mid-sentence. A smug grin came over him. “They didn’t have an override order on that one,” he smiled.
A long, uncomfortable silence filled the spacecraft.
All eyes were on the couple holding each other, and especially on the woman trembling almost uncontrollably.
“It’s over, Star,” Hunter spoke softly. “It’s finally over.”
Star managed to nod as she squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her face against his throat. After another minute had passed, Hunter pulled away and picked up the blanket that had been used on her earlier, draping it around her shoulders. She let him guide her to her seat, and Blender buckled on her harness as Hunter took the pilot’s chair.
“Hunter, are you up to this?” Time Merchant asked gently. The announcement may have shocked them all, but the emotional impact of it was worse for Hunter and Star.
They watched as the man set the course into the ship’s computers before bringing Three around for their voyage home.
“Yeah,” Hunter finally said with a voice set in stone. “Make sure everyone’s strapped in. Going into hyper light in five. Four. Three. Two. One. Now.”
Conversation was at a minimum during their return trip. Hunter never spoke except to give directions to Time Merchant, who did his job with his usual efficiency. In her cushions behind Hunter, Star sat in a silent huddle, knees and booted feet drawn up into the seat. To all she seemed asleep, wrapped inside the blanket, face buried into the material, her long, thick hair spread like a curtain over her features. Few could guess what was running through her mind. Few wanted to.
Star was pregnant. The HandFast was over. Now they could go on with their lives as if nothing had happened. As if nothing had occurred. The reasoning was almost laughable.
Every Guardian knew something had happened between Hunter and Star. Something miraculous that wasn’t supposed to happen. Something no one had expected to happen. And now they were ordered to go back to the way things had been before the HandFast? Maybe it was possible for other couples, but not for these two.
Morning Fire couldn’t take her eyes away from the shivering figure in the next row over. These next couple of days would determine two very critical issues for her best friend, and her heart ached to go over and put her arms around the woman.