by Jenn Burke
“You have within you the essence of four races. You were incomplete before, and that is why you failed.”
Smoke began encroaching on his vision and for an instant, Zed thought something catastrophic had happened to the Guardians’ ship. Blackness crept in behind the smoke, telling him the true source of the haze—shock. He leaned forward and forced himself to suck in a breath, and the fuzziness receded.
The strength of the stin—their poison. The heart of his humanity. The ashushk’s intelligence, the drug they’d created to try to help him. And…whatever that was in his neck, the spirit of the Guardians.
He was proof…of a concept? A prototype? But there had been other super soldiers—the ashushk had them, too, and they were not here as proof. Why?
“The ashushk have reached their potential. Humanity has the capacity for more.”
Zed’s stomach plummeted to his feet. “You’re not…you’re not going to do this…” Oh God, please say no.
“We are not,” the voice assured him, low and gentle. “We have no need for an army of Zanderanatolius.”
He let out a shaky breath. “Then why? Why did you save me?”
The warm touch again. If he left here, he knew he would miss that.
“Because you are proof that for all the differences between worlds, there are commonalities, commonalities that can be embodied by humanity. You could not exist, otherwise. You will be a reminder to all the races, proof that fighting each other is the same as fighting yourselves. Proof, too, that the races are stronger together.”
“Is that the purpose you wanted to give me?”
“Yes. A portion of it. It could be more, but it would require you to know.” Learn, accept, embrace, understand. Stay.
Could he? Did he have a choice, or was he fooling himself?
“Stay, Zanderanatolius.” Meaning echoed around the words, a plea. Here, he was wanted, needed. Accepted.
“What would I do here?” he asked, his voice soft.
“You would help us.” Concepts flowed by, just out of his reach, and he understood that if he wanted to grasp them, he would need to agree to the Guardians’ offer to know. “You would have purpose, you would have importance. You would have a place.”
A sudden longing for the Chaos, with all her imperfections and her oddities, spiked through him. That was his place. That was his purpose. Maybe it wasn’t as grand as the one the Guardians offered, but it was his. He swallowed, acknowledging that he needed more than purpose and peace in his life. He needed his crew, his family. His love.
If they didn’t need him…
Zed sucked in a shaky breath and pushed to his feet. “You have my gratitude for everything you’ve done—for healing my body and my mind, beyond the damage done by the Project. But I am no longer lost.”
He wasn’t, he realized. He really wasn’t. For the first time in years, he had an anchor. A reason. He had Flick. And maybe…a third chance at the life he wanted.
“What you said before, that humans are our hearts? It’s true.” He offered the empty room a small smile. “I need to be with him. I might be small on a galactic scale, but to him, I matter.”
“To us, as well.”
Their disappointment rocked him. His knees weakened with the force of it. He bent forward, trying to catch his breath, trying to subdue the tears that threatened. In that instant, he questioned his choice. Did Flick want him as badly as this? Did the crew of the Chaos, or his family?
“We require that you serve our purpose, Zanderanatolius.”
Something cool clasped his right wrist. He pushed back the sleeve of his tunic to see a silver band had wrapped itself around his skin. He could detect no seam, nor did the cuff move when he tried to adjust it. Power tingled through his fingertips as he tried to pull it off. What was it? A restraint? Something to keep him where the Guardians wanted him?
Fatigue sliced through him. He’d felt this before—the Guardians had encouraged him to sleep more than once in order to speed his healing or…He didn’t really want to think about what they might have done while he was unconscious. He held on to the idea that the aliens meant him no harm, using it as a shield against the fear that spiked. After staggering to the bed, he collapsed on it and fought the urge to close his eyes, to go under.
Did they allow for free will only when it suited their purposes?
“Don’t make me stay,” he begged.
For once, the Guardians remained silent.
Chapter Nineteen
“We need a plan.”
Nessa glanced up from the holo novel she was reading. “For…?”
“Fix.” Elias gestured at the wallet lying open on his desk and activated the display. A virtual sheaf of correspondence materialized over the keys. “This is all the paperwork he has to sign to accept Zed’s estate. I’ve been sitting on it for four days. The Anatolius lawyers have taken to messaging me twice daily to ask about the delay.” He felt the pinch of his brows. “I really don’t want to talk to Brennan again. That last call…”
“Oh, Eli.”
Reporting the death of a family member had been hard enough. Reporting the loss of Zed’s body? It had been like telling Brennan his brother had died all over again. And the fact that no one could offer more than supposition about why the Guardians wanted Zed’s body had hurt everyone involved. Thank all that was holy they’d already missed the memorial service. Elias wasn’t sure he’d have stood up for it. Fixer sure as hell wouldn’t have been able to.
“I found him in the mess yesterday. Sitting in the booth, staring at a bottle of Glavan whiskey,” Nessa said.
Not good. “Just staring, not drinking?”
“Just staring,” Nessa said, her tone musing. “Maybe a short bender might knock a few things loose.”
Elias shook his head. “Trust me, Ness, Fix doesn’t know the meaning of a short bender. Ever wondered why he only ever drinks one beer on poker night?” For the space of a breath, he debated changing the subject. Fix’s past indiscretions were his business. But Nessa was a doctor, and a friend. A concerned friend. “After his discharge from the AEF—” which had been a fucking mess, “—Fix went looking for his family. He grew up on Pontus Station.”
“Pontus…oh.”
Yeah. Pontus had been all but destroyed by the stin. Very few had survived. The battle there had been one of the most crushing defeats of the early war.
“He found only a long list of the dead and…he was already messed up. You know he was kept by the stin for nearly four years, right?”
“I’ve seen the scars.”
“He hit the drink pretty hard. For about six months. If my father hadn’t literally tripped over him on Fusang Station, he’d probably have drunk himself to death.”
“I had no idea…” A crease appeared between her brows. “He doesn’t present at all like a recovering alcoholic. No compulsive behaviors or other apparent crutches.”
“Unless you count the tinkering, or his workouts.”
“I figured that was a holdover from his AEF days, or maybe a reaction to being a prisoner for so long. Needing to be strong.”
“Yeah, that’s probably a part of it.”
“He shouldn’t drink at all.”
“You want to be the one to tell him that?”
Nessa’s shoulders deflated with a deep sigh. “I’ve known him for nearly eighteen months, and yet sometimes I feel I don’t know him at all.”
“He doesn’t give away much.”
“I wish I knew how to help him.” Sadness pinched her pale features. “His grief is so awful. It’s too deep, too profound. Given his past, he probably shouldn’t even be taking those sedatives I gave him. But—”
“He hasn’t had nightmares like this for a couple years.” Elias drummed his fingers along the edge of the desk. “Maybe we should get him liquored up. Then ask him to sign the paperwork just before he passes out.”
Nessa arched a brow.
“Got a better plan?” he asked.
&nbs
p; “I think we should just ask him.”
“He’ll fly into one of his moods.”
“Probably. We could ask Qek to do it.”
“That’s…” Not a bad idea, but also not fair. Elias shook his head. “Nope. I’m the captain, I have to do this.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“He’ll think we’re ganging up on him.”
“We are.”
Before he could gain his feet, his wallet buzzed against the desk. One glance pulled a deep groan from his belly. “And there’s the other thorn in my side.”
“I’d make a quip about roses, but Qek’s our resident expert on idioms.” Nessa glanced down. “It’s Nynt.”
“I know who it is.”
“How long have you been dodging his calls?”
Unease slithered through his belly. “Too long.” He tapped his wallet, grateful for once that they did not have the equipment to receive jazers and full holo calls. This would be a voice-only ripcomm.
“Ah, Captain Idowu. I see I have finally caught you.”
Quaint.
“Mr. Nynt.”
“I wish to express my condolences for the loss of your crew member.”
He…what? “Ah…”
“News out of Sol is that the family of Major Zander Anatolius held a memorial service for their youngest son just four days ago.”
Gears shifted inside Elias’s head. He wondered if the rusty grate could be heard outside his skull. “Though he was ill for some time, his loss is no less…” Devastating? “A blow.”
“No doubt.”
How much did Nynt know? Emma had been freelancing for Agrius on Chloris. How much of her history had she shared with the cartel?
“Listen, I’m going to give it to you straight.”
“I wish you would, Captain.”
“The last month, my priority has been my crew. I’m sorry if that has infringed upon your…overtures? This meeting you want to have. I did tell you we’d be out of local space for some time, and that meant out of Agrius territory. Before then, we made an effort to live and let live, if you know what I mean. And those creatures on Risus weren’t mine.”
He’d got a little shrill at the end there, but Nynt didn’t interrupt. Obviously, he had the patience to listen to underlings wind themselves up and run themselves back down again.
“Your crew is your family, yes?”
“That’s it exactly.”
“Then I understand.”
“You—what?”
“I understand, Captain. Now, if I may beg your indulgence, I would like to resume our negotiations. I will even let you choose the meeting place.”
“Why is it so important that we meet in person?”
“I believe a deal sealed in person, with a handshake, is somewhat more binding than any bio-signature. In person, we may take one another’s measure.”
Elias blew out a sigh. “Okay.” It was probably a trap, but okay. They needed to get this business concluded. Elias consulted the map of the galaxy he had permanently projected over a small device Fix had made for him. For a moment, his thoughts stuttered, then settled. They were currently scooping gas in a system so insignificant, it still had a string of numbers and letters for a name. He scanned the surrounding systems for a suitable meeting point.
“How about Nezha Station?” A Shi Corporation ex-orbital station in a system clogged with asteroids and gas giants. The place served as a galactic filling station. A trading post that welcomed all comers with only one rule: take your troubles elsewhere. Not that the station wouldn’t have its own gangs in the substrata, its own illegal commerce. But Nezha was known throughout the galaxy as neutral territory.
Nessa gripped his shoulder. Yes, we’re really going to do this, he answered silently.
“That would be acceptable.” The transmission paused for a brief moment. “Can you be there in three days, Standard?”
“I can.”
“Until then, Captain.” Perhaps suspecting Elias had used up all his politeness, Nynt cut the connection.
“Well.”
Elias glanced up and forced a smile. “Well.”
“Unless he has contacts on Nezha, it would be hard to—”
“I think I’m beyond caring, Ness.”
“No, you’re not.” She smiled warmly. “Never that.”
Returning the smile, Elias tapped his comm. “Qek?”
“Here, Captain.”
“Change of plans. Instead of shipping shit from Vix to Beta Huntara, we’re going to meet Nynt at Nezha Station.”
“Will we be traveling directly to the Nezha system?”
“Yeah. ETA?”
After a pause, Qek answered, “Two and a half days, Standard. We are finished scooping gas. Would you like me to plot a course?”
“Please.” They could use the extra half day to scout the station. With any luck, they wouldn’t trip over Agrius doing the same thing.
Moments later, a shiver passed through the corvette, the transition from normal space to j-space only slightly disconcerting after all the years Elias had spent in the black. Gripping the arms of his chair, he prepared to stand up. “Ready to pin Fix down and push his thumb to a seal?”
An odd vibration passed beneath his feet. Elias looked down, aware Nessa’s chin had dipped also. They were used to the constant hum of a maneuvering ship, and both recognized when the pitch changed.
Elias messaged Qek again. “Everything all right up there?”
“I am not sure. The star drive output is fluctuating oddly.”
“How oddly?”
“It appears to be a repeating pattern.”
“A what?”
“Fixer is investigating.”
“Good.” Regardless of the issue, Fixer attending his duty was good on all counts. “Should we drop back out of j-space?”
“We may have no choice. The pattern is slowing the drive. Beyond a certain threshold, we will lose folding capacity.”
“Ah, is it safe to execute an emergency drop?”
“I am calculating.”
The comm hissed and popped and then Fixer’s voice joined the conversation. “The drive isn’t responding and propulsion is shutting down. We’re going to drop out of j-space.” Even across the channel, the engineer sounded too calm and for a startling second, Elias wondered if he’d done something to the drive, if his grief had propelled him to tinker and—
“Prepare for drop in three, two, one.”
The Chaos lurched and skipped. Despite his grip on the desk, Elias rolled with his chair. Gravity fell away for long enough for everything in the room to float from its anchor, then weight crashed back down, dropping everything to the deck. Nessa bounced against him. Elias wrapped his arms around her before she could roll.
“Got you.”
His wallet skidded across the floor past his head, and as it went by, Qek’s normally soft voice seemed to screech through the channel. “Contact on sensors.”
Contact, as in a…”Another ship?” Fuck, that was all they needed.
Before Qek could respond, a synthesized voice boomed through the connection. “Human vessel Chaos.”
Shit, that sounded like—
“You fuckers!” Static distorted Fixer’s yell.
“Fix, clear the channel.” You didn’t antagonize the Guardians, even if they had stolen your dead partner’s body. “Guardians, this is Captain Idowu. We are experiencing a core malfunction. I apologize for any intrusion. As soon as we restart, we will be underway.”
“There is no malfunction.”
Holy hell. Was this how it would all end? A misunderstanding with the keepers of the galaxy?
“We summoned you.”
Oh, yeah, they were goners. Elias looked over at Nessa, then picked up his wallet. He felt a need to hold their destiny in his hands. He sat up and nearly dropped the wallet as the Guardians spoke again.
“We have delivered a package to your main hold.”
They had…what? The G
uardian ship hadn’t even docked with them.
They hadn’t landed on Ashushk Prime, either.
Elias scrambled to his feet. “Acknowledged.”
“We thank you for your service, human vessel Chaos.”
Ah…
The connection closed, the resulting silence ringing with unasked questions. Elias looked at Nessa and then at the wallet in his hand. He called the bridge. “Qek?”
“Here, captain. The Guardian vessel has left normal space.” Of course they had. Wouldn’t want to get caught in the blast radius. “I have confirmed there is an object in Cargo One. It is warm enough to register on sensors.”
“Warm enough?” God, no.
“Yes. Object temperature appears to be thirty-seven degrees Celsius.”
Nessa’s head snapped up. “That’s human body temperature. Normal.”
It couldn’t be…
Chapter Twenty
Felix skidded through the hatch to Cargo One, hope burning a path from his gut to his esophagus. It was stupid to think the Guardians might have done him a favor, at long last, but his whole life was based on the slimmest chance. He’d lived through the impossible, he’d survived the worst version of a war.
The package was a man, lying supine on the floor. Even from the doorway, Felix knew it was Zed. He could see his nose, the shadow of his lashes on his cheeks. How many times had he lain awake, watching Zed sleep? He knew that profile!
The rest of the crew arrived behind him. Ignoring them, Felix knelt beside Zed. His heart beat so hard, he could feel it throughout his body. Likely, it rocked him—and he couldn’t move his arms. Maybe it was fear making him sway in time to the loud knock of his pulse.
Nessa dropped to her knees on the other side of Zed and put her fingers to his neck. Barely a second later, she smiled. “He’s alive.”
Qek’s clicks and Elias’s gasp blended into one sound that echoed along the back of Felix’s skull. Somehow, he gained mastery over his body—only to fold forward over Zed’s inert form.
“Zed?” His voice cracked horribly. Felix tucked his hands beneath Zed’s shoulders and tried to lift him, shake wakefulness into him. “C’mon, Zed. Wake up.”