“You all good?” Sinjin's voice crackled into his ear. “I think I might have underestimated things when I called this a shit storm.”
“Any idea who just destroyed the ruins?” Mak asked her.
“No.” The vice-admiral's tone was short. “But I'm standing in the launch bay onboard my ship, waiting for you to tell me every little detail of what the hell happened down there.”
“Do you have Dr. Garett in custody? He'll have more idea than anyone.” Nyha said.
“That Dr. Bartali?” Sinjin asked. “I'm afraid to say that yes, we did have Garett in a holding cell. A guard found him dead two minutes ago.” She drew in a deep breath. “They're snipping all the loose ends, and there is no longer any doubt I have a traitor onboard.”
“What now?” he asked.
“Now that we've confirmed there are no survivors on Cepi,” Sinjin said, “you're invited to watch a show. Kalastoni is blowing this damned piece of rock to bits.”
The massive laser array was primed, but the Kalastoni waited until everyone had landed in the launch bay, and the battleship had jumped to a safe distance, before they engaged.
The vice-admiral was right, it was a show.
Nyha wondered why destruction was sometimes beautiful, and destruction on this scale made it even more spectacular.
“You didn't want to go down there and check things out first?” Nyha asked Sinjin as she stood beside her and Mak on the observation deck. “Recover the bodies of the hostage-takers?”
“The array was in the right position after its last orbit of Kalastoni, and we didn't want to risk anything else happening before we ran out of time. It's our planet on the line.”
“I understand that,” Nyha said, and then realized there was an uncomfortable silence in the room at her words. She sighed internally, because there was nothing she could say to mitigate the discomfort.
She'd tried smoothing things over for years, and realized it just made things worse. Now she tried not to speak of Halatia's destruction too often, but she refused to keep completely silent because she had a duty, to the girls at least, but also to herself, to keep the memory of what Halatia had been alive, rather than the dead, smoldering wreck it was now.
A hand slid along her shoulder, and then Mak pulled her in under his arm. It was a comforting gesture, but the low zing of attraction that she'd felt since their first back and forth on her comm set roared to life.
The jolt she felt had her looking up at him. His gaze was knowing, as if he'd been waiting for her to catch up.
She sent him a smile and curved her own arm around his back.
“You didn't hear Veld or any of his people say who was behind this?” Sinjin stood with her hands clasped behind her back, a tall, voluptuous, commanding presence with silver hair cut short and standing on end around her face, as if she tugged at it regularly. They watched the laser array reduce the bigger pieces of Cepi to much smaller ones.
“No. The only thing Mak and I heard was Cors say he'd been blinded by the money, which suggests one of the Breakaways was involved.” Nyha let her head rest briefly on Mak's shoulder, then straightened up.
“I overheard Garde, Veld's second-in-command, say that the people he'd gone in with were prepared to pay big money, but that if Veld didn't deliver, they'd be better off dead than telling their employers they'd failed.” Mak's grip on her shoulder tightened, and then he dropped his arm.
“We've still got the two hostage-takers who were ferrying the hostages on the pick-up, but they seem to be late recruits, they're just muscle and I think they were getting a flat fee, not a share of the big profits.” Sinjin blew out a breath. “But we have other avenues.”
“Whoever on the administrative council pushed for me and the girls to come up here, for a start.” Nyha knew her voice was cold, but she didn't care. Whoever it was had thrown her girls into harms' way for money. They could go down in flames, for all she cared.
“Fenik Darm,” Sinjin said. The way she spoke had Nyha turning to look at her.
“Dead?” she asked.
“Dead,” Sinjin confirmed.
“They're clearing house.” Mak rubbed his chin. “But they either have a far reach, or they've got a Verdant String base.”
“Yes.” Sinjin flicked him a look. “That ship looked cutting edge, and it was, but we have full-scan capabilities on this battleship and everything on there we identified as Verdant String tech. It's been put together in new and interesting ways, but it's ours.”
“Veld must have been able to absolutely sink them if he was taken in and made to talk,” Nyha said. “They were prepared to risk you getting a look at their ship, and at their innovations, to silence him.”
“Someone on this ship had to have warned them we had the hostages secured and Veld had no leverage left.” Sinjin's tone promised a long and thorough hunt for whoever that person was. “The leak is Kalastoni, because until you lot boarded, I had an all Kalastoni crew. Someone here was prepared to put their own planet in jeopardy for money.”
There was nothing to say to that, so they all watched the last big chunk of Cepi get turned into fine space dust, and Nyha wondered who had the connections and resources to put together a massive space ship, and fund the theft of a grav generator.
She shook her shoulders to loosen them. Not her problem.
She would, though, put her mind to the relationship between the internal spiral and the grav generator. That they were connected was unquestionable, in her mind. The thought of it excited her.
“I'd better go check on the girls. Thank you for sending a pod for them, Vice-admiral. And for the extraction units. If it wasn't for you, and for Mak and his team, we'd be dead.”
“We would never have let that happen,” Sinjin told her.
Unsaid was the notion that there were all too few Halatians for them to risk losing even one.
“Thank you. And thank you on behalf of the girls.”
“Are you their official guardian?” Sinjin asked.
“I am. I lived with them in a group home when I first arrived on Arkhor. I was twelve, and they were babies. We became a family, and when I was old enough, I applied for custody. I'm more of an aunt than a mother.”
She looked out at the destruction. “Tilla's mother would have been devastated to see what happened here today. She was the foremost authority on Cepi before she was killed on the Dru.” She kept her gaze on the debris. “But she would have understood doing anything to save a planet, and she would be grateful for her daughter's safety. So would all the girls' parents.”
“Then we've done our job.” Sinjin's voice choked a little.
Nyha dipped her head in acknowledgment, sent Mak a last smile, and walked away.
Sometimes she barely remembered the destruction of Halatia. Today conspired to be very much not one of those days.
12
“Do you believe the theory that our ancestors visited Cepi when they came this way to colonize Kalastoni?” Ju asked as she looked out at the glittering dust that was all that remained of the small moon.
“It's possible.” Nyha leaned into her, and hugged her close.
“Do you ever wonder why the ancestors came this way at all?” Fran asked, leaning in herself, and Nyha looped her arm around her, too.
“Given the scarcity of habitable planets as close to each other as the planets of the Verdant String, I’m firmly in the camp that believes they came here specifically because they'd seen the Verdant String from afar. The chances of them stumbling on it accidentally are almost nonexistent.”
“But why did they settle all eight planets?” Tilla came up behind them, stretched her arms around them to include herself in the group hug. “There weren't that many of them. They could have all landed on one planet and stayed together.”
“They were probably hedging their bets,” Nyha said. “They couldn't foresee all the problems they'd encounter on each planet, so they split the armada up into eight, and each took a different planet in the Str
ing.”
“And all eight thrived. And we all became slightly different, but still the same at the core, and found each other again, hundreds of years later.” Ju pressed her forehead against the glass. “Well, until Halatia was ripped apart.”
“I'd like to think that there's still another Verdant String planet we haven't found yet.” Vik squirmed her way into the group, too. “I'd like to be the one to discover it one day.”
“We've discovered plenty of other planets with life, whole other cultures, but never another Verdant String.” Tilla shook her head. “We'd have found it if it was out there.”
“Well, I'm glad Vik is alive and well and has the chance to look if she wants to.” Nyha reached out a hand and stroked the short, pale blue of Vika's hair off her forehead. “You should be proud of how you handled yourselves today.”
“Dr. Bartali?”
The little huddle fell apart as Nyha turned toward the door. A Kalastoni soldier stood to attention, her tall, slim frame blocking the door.
“Yes?”
“A call for you from Arkhor.” The soldier held out a comm device, and Nyha took it with a nod of thanks. “Hello?”
“Nyha? They tell me you're all right. Is that true?”
The voice of Nyha's mentor tumbled and tripped through the comm set.
“Yes, Suk. We're all fine.”
“I'm getting reports you were deliberately put in harm's way, and if that's so, HIA will not stop until we know why.” Suk's voice quivered with outrage.
“It's okay. I know why. And the person directly responsible is already dead.” She moved away as she spoke. The girls didn't need to know all the gory details yet.
“Tell me then. What was it about?”
“They wanted us up here because they knew having us as hostages would result in the softest, most cautious approach by the Verdant String, giving them the time they needed to do what they planned on Cepi.”
She kept all outrage out of her voice, all the anger she'd felt herself. Because Suk could not be reasonable about these things.
She'd been twenty-five when she'd survived the Dru; one of the very few adults to do so, and even then, she was barely alive when they'd been rescued. She ran the Halatian Interests Association on Arkhor, and she really wouldn't let this drop if Nyha couldn't persuade her it was already dealt with.
“What did the bastards plan?”
“They'd found the grav and atmosphere generator, and they were trying to steal it.”
Suk was silent for a moment, and that was a feat in itself.
“Did they succeed?”
“No. The girls and I got ourselves free, and then the Arkhor special forces team who were already on Cepi protected us and got us out. As soon as the hostage-takers didn't have their prime hostages any more, whoever they were working for blew them up, and then the Kalastoni decided they didn't want any more nasty surprises with so little time left before Cepi crashed into them, so they blew it up as soon as we were at a safe distance.”
“You saw the destruction of Cepi?” Suk's voice lowered.
“Yes.” Nyha kept her voice gentle. “It was hard, but we were safe, and in good hands. And it was momentous. An experience of a lifetime for the girls.”
“That's true.” Suk sounded thoughtful, and Nyha let herself relax.
“Do you know how we're getting home?” she asked to further distract her.
“Oh! That's why I was officially contacting you. To say Arkhor's vice-admiral says you're going to take the pick-up back. The one that was originally sent for you. And that you're to be escorted by a special forces team.”
Nyha realized she was smiling. “That suits me very well.”
“You're sure?” Suk sounded suspicious.
“Positive. I've become very fond of that particular Arkhor special forces team.”
“All right.” Suk hesitated. “I'm glad you're well, Nyha. When the news reached Arkhor that you and the girls had been taken, it was . . . hard.”
“The special forces captain was in touch with me from the very start, Suk. He helped us at every turn, and the hostage-takers never even knew he was there. Arkhor looked after us. Their soldiers risked their lives.”
Suk breathed out. “Thank you.”
That response would have sounded odd to a stranger, but Nyha knew exactly what Suk meant. “They're our people now, Suk. We will never forget, but we have to move on.”
“Yes.” She took a deep breath. “I'll see you soon.”
Nyha said her goodbyes, and the girls offered to return the comm device, giving them an excuse to wander around the Kalastoni battleship a little longer and poke their noses into places they would most likely never have access to again.
Nyha handed the device over with a smile. She walked back to the window and leant against it, looking out at the sight of Kalastoni to the left, the debris of Cepi in the middle, and the small, uninhabitable planet of Darga on the right.
She heard footsteps behind her, and knew from the quiet, light tread who it was.
“I hear we're heading home together,” she said to Mak as he settled in beside her. He braced his arm above the window and leaned forward, the only evidence he wasn't completely relaxed the hand fisted on his thigh.
He flicked her a sideways glance. “We are.”
“I guess your mission is over, given the rock you were guarding is space dust now.”
There was that little quirk of his lips. “True. And the HIA also insisted on protection for you.”
Nyha sighed. That sounded like Suk. “It'll be good to get back.”
“A warning; they won't just let you disembark like you would have before this happened. You'll be sent to a debrief, I guarantee it. What happened here is not a standard run-in. There are complexities to this that will have everyone in the Admiralty worried.”
“Oh.” She hadn't thought of that. “Then do me a favor, for everyone's peace of mind; only tell the HIA we've landed when the debrief is over, or there will literally be hell to pay.”
“You know who'll be there from the HIA to meet you?” Mak sent her another look. “A friend?”
“Suk Cavada. She was my mentor when I lived in the group home, and she's . . .” Her throat closed up and she had to wait a few moments before she could speak again. “She had it worse on the Dru than I did, because she was older.”
Nyha glanced up, and saw Mak's hand above his head was fisted now, too.
“She'd studied law on Halatia, and after she was rescued she switched to Arkhoran law instead, worked her way up to president of the Halatian Interests Association. She comes across as strident, but it's just that she'll be worried. This has stirred up memories for her. She'll want to see us straight away, to make sure we're all right. If someone tells her she has to wait, she'll imagine terrible things have happened, and . . . let's just rather avoid the unpleasantness.”
“You love her,” Mak said.
“I love her.” Nyha crossed her arms over her chest. “So let's try to make it easy on all of us.”
“I'll arrange it.” His voice was gentle. “So, what are your plans when we land in Fisk? Got some spare time?”
She turned to him, and just like he had on the main observation deck with Sinjin, the look he sent back was steady and sure, waiting for her to catch up.
She smiled. “Don't worry, I'm keeping pace.”
He let out a surprised laugh. “Are you now?”
“You haven't left me behind yet.”
He turned to face her fully, leaning against the wall with his shoulder, mirroring her by crossing his arms over his chest. There was heat and promise, and maybe a little impatience, in his eyes. “I don't intend to leave you behind. I want you with me, all the way.”
Suddenly serious, she held his gaze. “You mean that.”
He gave a curt nod and put out a hand. “Come on, doc. Let's go home.”
As she reached out, she had to admit, that sounded pretty good.
~FIN~
Michelle Diener is an award winning author of historical fiction, science fiction, and fantasy. Her sci-fi series include the Class 5 series and Sky Raiders series.
Follow the author:
Sign up for Michelle Diener’s newsletter
Visit her website: www.michellediener.com
Follow her on Facebook
STOWAWAY
A VICTORIA ETERNAL SHORT STORY
By Anthea Sharp
ABOUT STOWAWAY
Liza Roth is on the run—from her past, from a tragic loss, from a powerful family who’s placed a bounty on her head. Forced to leave the space station where she’s taken refuge, Liza disguises herself as a maid on a luxury star liner, only to discover she’s not the only fugitive on board…
STOWAWAY
Outside the large, round window of the space station, the universe shone, each star a promise kept. Or broken.
Liza Roth spent a lot of time staring out that window during her evening shifts at Eun-Jeong’s Galactic Bulgogi House. It was simple enough to play the keyboard, her fingers making light, unobtrusive music on the keys while her mind wandered out there in the black.
The view wasn’t real, of course. Eun-Jeong’s was nestled in the trade corridor, deep in the station’s rotating hub and far from any of the reinforced windows. But Eun liked the illusion.
“I run a class joint,” she’d said to Liza when she’d come to interview for the gig. “That’s why I want live music, you know? Everybody else plays canned stuff, but my Bulgogi House is different. We cater to upscale clients, ne?”
Liza had just nodded. Back on Earth, she’d dined at the most highly-rated restaurants in the galaxy, eating real beef off of gold-chased porcelain and drinking champagne from crystal goblets.
A glass of that champagne cost more than what she made in a year, out here on the edge of the spiral arm. It had been a different life, the one she’d fled, and she never wanted to go back. No matter how much her gut sometimes ached with loneliness.
Orphans In the Black: A Space Opera Anthology Page 45