Star Streaker Boxed Set 1 (Star Streaker Series)

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Star Streaker Boxed Set 1 (Star Streaker Series) Page 32

by T. M. Catron


  Moira clapped her hands, and two young women came out of the shadows.

  A feeling of disgust shot through Rance. She’d forgotten how the nobility lived—without a care for those under them. But the girls appeared healthy and well-treated. Both with the same olive skin and dark hair, close in age. Obviously sisters. They skirted around Solaris, who seemed to make them nervous.

  Rance thought about that little boy in the marketplace on Ares who had stolen the vagrappes. He was stealing food just to get by, living off scraps and in constant danger of being arrested. Moira, on the other hand, lived a life of ease and didn’t even realize it. Rance didn’t have anything against people being rich, but it annoyed her that she had felt this way one time herself. Had she ever been like Moira?

  “What happened to your husband, Moira?” she asked as the Tania and Sonya fussed over Rance’s head injury.

  Moira shook her head. “I don’t know exactly. He’d been going to secret meetings, at night. He invited a few strange people here once, and they shut themselves up in his office all day. Richard has always been a man of few words, but he’s never kept anything from me. At least, he’d always provided me with straight answers if I asked about things.”

  “He had other things?”

  “Mostly I never asked. I have my own responsibilities. But he never hesitated when I did. Except for those new meetings. He’d brush me off. And then our friends began to treat us—me—differently. They shut me out of several parties, but more disturbingly, they refused to do any business with my husband or me. And I still haven’t been able to figure out why.”

  Rance winced as Sonya dabbed a particularly tender spot on her scalp. “So he’s involved in some secret society that everyone knows about except you? Ow!”

  “Sorry, your Ladyship,” Sonya said. “The bleeding has stopped. I’m going to scan your head for a concussion and then we’ll patch you up.”

  Moira shot Rance a reproachful look. “Don’t mock me, Devri. I know it is unusual, nor does it make any sense, but I didn't know what to do—”

  She broke off in a sob. Moira looked so sad and so afraid, Rance couldn’t bring herself to give her a hard time. She wasn’t a hugging person, though, so she settled for awkwardly patting Moira on the shoulder until she composed herself.

  Moira sniffed. “I’m glad you came, Devri.”

  “Better call me Rance from now on. I don’t use that name anymore.”

  Moira nodded.

  “How did you find me?” Rance asked.

  Sonya swept a scanner over Rance’s body, watching the screen and making little-sniffing noises herself.

  “I took a chance,” Moira said. “And found a dealer in the city who runs a few questionable trading routes.”

  “You did what? Moira, you could have run into the wrong people! They could have hurt you. How did they find me?”

  “They didn’t know you. But I paid him quite a bit of money to send my message to every known smuggling outpost in the Outer Colonies, on the off chance you were hiding on one of them. The instructions were to relay it to you.”

  Rance sighed. What Moira had done was extremely risky, but she was glad it had been more anonymous than she’d thought at first. Tracking a receipt at so many locations would be next to impossible. Still, she’d used Rance’s real name, and Rance would bet the Star Streaker that whoever had sent the message had also watched the video. Moira was lucky she hadn’t had something worse happen to her.

  Sonya’s scanner beeped, and Rance looked over.

  “Nothing is wrong, Your Ladyship. You are very lucky. Are you ready to close the wound?”

  “In a minute,” Rance said, looking at Solaris out on the balcony. Sonya nodded and left.

  Rance joined Solaris. Smoke drifted on the wind, but it wasn’t so bad they couldn’t enjoy the cold air.

  “We need to find a way out of here,” Rance said, staring at the fires that surrounded them. Thankfully, they were still at some distance. “But I don’t think we can afford to keep going like we’ve been. We need a few hours’ sleep and something to eat.”

  “I agree,” Solaris said. “We’ll make better decisions after taking a break. How’s the head?”

  “No real damage. Apparently, I have a very hard head.”

  “I already knew that, Captain.” The comment was forced, not his usual light-hearted jab at all.

  “What’s bothering you?” she asked.

  “You mean other than we’ve stranded ourselves in a hostile city with invading pirates and no way of communicating with the ship?”

  “Yes, other than that.”

  Rance leaned her elbows on the railing and closed her eyes. She was so tired, but she wanted to eat. And she wanted Solaris to talk to her. Out of all her crew, he was the least transparent. She knew so little about him. Somehow it was important she knew more. Just in case one or none of them ever made it off Prometheus.

  But no, she wouldn’t think about that possibility.

  Solaris leaned against the railing next to her and sighed. “When I was a child,” he whispered, “my entire planet was destroyed by pirates.”

  Rance’s eyes flew open. “It was? How?”

  “The Galaxy Wizards never found out how they did it. But the pirates swooped in with overwhelming force and set the whole planet on fire. In the battle, it broke into pieces.”

  “Wow,” Rance said, looking at Solaris. “How did that happen though? What kind of weapons did they use?”

  “I’m not sure, but I’ve spent most of my life trying to figure it out. The Wizards got me off the planet. I was one of the few survivors.”

  “Is that how you ended up being a Wizard?”

  “Yes. They raised me.”

  “What about your family?”

  Solaris was silent, looking out over the city. “They didn’t make it.”

  “I’m sorry,” Rance breathed, horrified. She had her share of family problems, but at least she’d had a family.

  “It was a long time ago. I don’t remember them well.”

  “So that’s why you’ve been upset.”

  “Correct.”

  Panic rose in Rance’s throat. “Do you think that’s going to happen here?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. But I can’t figure out why. My little planet was a backwater, full of pitiful farms scraped from the dust. I think the pirates had been trying to establish a base of operations there and something went wrong.”

  “And here?”

  Solaris stood up straight and turned back toward the house. “There are all sorts of compelling reasons to control this planet, rather than destroy it.”

  “Let’s hope you’re right,” Rance said. She turned to go back inside.

  Solaris stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Rance?”

  “Yes?”

  He met her eyes. “Back on the Streaker, when Unity was getting ready to inspect us, you said you were a nobody.”

  Rance shrugged. “So?”

  “You were wrong.”

  Heat rose to Rance’s face, and she tried to clear her throat. “What brought this on?”

  “Just thought you should know.”

  Solaris turned back out to face the fires. Rance wondered if he were worried they wouldn’t make it out of their situation either. She started to put a hand on his shoulder, to let him know she appreciated his sentiment. But it felt awkward, so she dropped her hand to her side and left him on the balcony.

  Inside, she went to find a room of her own. The guest rooms were as beautiful as the rest of the house, with fine artwork on the walls and soft fabrics on the bed. Rance felt at home, yet didn’t. But she was too tired to consider anything other than sleep.

  A moment later, Tania knocked on the door and brought a simple but fine meal of fish and fruit. Rance ate while Tania used a laser to seal the cut on the back of Rance’s head. The food was good, but Rance was so hungry she wolfed it down in a few bites, without pausing to savor it.

  When Tania le
ft, Rance washed her food down with tea and eyed the luxurious sunken bath in the corner of the room. After their tough day, a hot bath would feel wonderful. But she was too tired for even that. She splashed water on her face and flopped down on the bed. It sank down with her, then automatically adjusted to her body. The bedcovers were soft and inviting, caressing her skin. With a sigh of relief, Rance drifted off.

  She woke when someone tapped on her door. “Enter,” she said.

  The door slid open to reveal Solaris, who didn’t enter but said, “Time to go, Captain.”

  With a groan she barely concealed, Rance rolled out of bed.

  “Nice hair,” Solaris smirked. Then he turned and left.

  Rance rolled her eyes. Her hair, still partially braided when she’d fallen asleep, was now sticking out like a tangled nest. She unbraided it and smoothed it as best she could before twisting it together once more, finishing as she left the room.

  Chapter Eight

  Instead of going back outside, Moira led them down into the tower’s basement. Rance tried not to think about going underground again. The panic from the day before set in quickly this time, and she took deep, calming breaths before following Moira out of the elevator. Solaris, Abel, Tania, and Sonya walked behind.

  There were more residences here, small living spaces that held no more than a bunk, a galley kitchen, and a bathroom. The doors, stacked on top of one another in neat rows, resembled beehives.

  “How do people get up there?” Abel asked, looking at the doors.

  Moira pointed. “They have moving platforms.” Small hoverboards moved up and down the walls like floating discs.

  The thought of using a hoverboard to reach an underground home every night didn’t sound like much fun. What if Rance accidentally stepped out the front door, and one wouldn’t be there to catch her fall?

  “They’re for assistants or extra servants when we have guests,” Moira said. “Or anyone else who wants to live in this section of the city. We’re going to use the private corridors reserved for nobility. My husband uses them often when he wants to travel quickly. Normally, we’d ride a transport. But they won’t be running now.”

  They walked down a hallway to another elevator. This one took them down five more levels, opening onto a well-lit corridor as wide as the streets above. The underground tunnel stretched up two stories and looked like a nighttime, above-ground street. On the second level, darkened windows overlooked vendors’ stands and screens showing the invasion above.

  It was crowded with people.

  Nobles, servants, aliens. Wandering, sitting, standing. A few moved through like they had a destination in mind. Most huddled in small groups, whispering and watching the screens. A few noticed the group stepping off the elevator. Moira pulled a veil over her face.

  “So this is where everyone went to,” Rance said with a sinking heart. How would they get through all of this without being stopped? For once, she wished she was dressed as a noblewoman instead of a ship’s captain. Their navy flight suits stood out amongst the traditional, elaborate garb of Prometheus’ nobility.

  Although nobility filled the halls with fine clothing, they still stank. The press of bodies, cooped up without much air flow and limited bathrooms, created a hot, sweaty odor of too many people pressed into a small space.

  Underlying all of it was the scent of fear. Most people avoided eye contact with their group. Few people spoke. Rance couldn’t believe they were all just hiding. But then she realized that with so many ships destroyed, they didn’t have a choice. The survivors could only hide and pray for mercy if the pirates found them.

  Hiding may have been fine for all of them, but Rance had no intention of being caged like an animal.

  The tunnels here were better maintained. The ceilings were higher, and lights filled every corner. It didn’t feel like being underground. Rance was grateful. The situation was stressful enough without adding her claustrophobia into the mix.

  They passed door after door, family after family. Rance avoided eye contact, not wishing to draw any more attention to themselves than necessary. But she often felt the stares on her back as they passed.

  As they made their way to the corridor leading under the river, the crowds thinned.

  “This comes up right in the Senate building,” Moira said. “The offices, anyway, not the meeting hall.”

  “That’s near the Star Streaker,” Solaris said.

  “Roote,” Moira asked, “what are you carrying?”

  “Just a stick I picked up.” Although with a staff in hand he increased the possibility of being recognized as a Wizard, Solaris had kept it out as they walked, preferring to be on guard and armed to losing precious seconds in a fight.

  Moira looked at him shrewdly, her eyebrows furrowing together beneath her veil. “I saw a man with one of those once. He came to my home with my husband.”

  If Solaris was surprised by this, he didn’t let it show. Rance, however, had a harder time hiding her shock. A Galaxy Wizard had visited Moira’s husband? What was he doing with them? Did it have something to do with his disappearance?

  “It’s my weapon of choice,” Solaris conceded. “Although I’d rather not have to use it.”

  He nodded to the crowd ahead blocking the wide underground street. The atmosphere was tense.

  “At least no one is fighting,” Rance said.

  “Yet,” Solaris said. “Right now, they are like tinder waiting for a spark. It won’t take much to set them on fire.”

  He moved ahead of the group, followed by Rance, Moira, Tania, and Sonya. Abel brought up the rear.

  As Solaris moved through the crowd, it subconsciously parted for him, creating a path through. Not for the first time, Rance wished he would teach her that trick.

  The group avoided eye contact with everybody. Rance shuddered to think what would happen if this crowd thought there was a ship left on Prometheus. Her crew would never make it out. She began watching the doors, looking for exits, just in case. If the crowd swarmed them, they’d need a quick escape. The only problem was knowing if a door led to a side passage or a dead end. Rance dropped back to walk beside Moira.

  “Do you know another route, if we need it?” she whispered.

  “I know a couple, but I’ve really only ever used this one.”

  “Are they easy to get to?”

  “Yes. Several of these side passages take you to other underground streets. It’s laid out on a grid.”

  Rance wished the other tunnels they’d used had been laid out on a grid. But then, service tunnels were always different. They passed one of the passages Moira had described. An alley, leading out to another well-lit thoroughfare. She nudged Solaris, who took note.

  After that, Rance kept her eyes peeled. Above them, the ground occasionally shook, as if the pirates were bombing the city. Every time a roll of thunder pealed over the street, the crowd ducked. The group moved faster. The Star Streaker was hidden, not impervious. If they didn’t hurry, they might not have a ship to return to.

  Rance’s heart pounded in her throat, and the urgency of their situation grew with each shudder of the ceiling above. Then, one particularly violent shake felt like an earthquake, and the lights flickered. A few people screamed. More families began moving about. A few followed Rance’s group. She tried not to glance back at them. They were probably just using the same route to get out. But she couldn’t help but wonder if they were following because they wanted to see where Rance and her crew were going.

  They had just passed another alley when a familiar woman stepped out from around the corner. She wore cream-colored robes and a jewel-encrusted headpiece. She locked eyes with Rance, and then her gaze slid back to Moira. Rance groaned as recognition flashed in the woman’s eyes.

  “Moira?” she asked.

  Rance and Moira stopped walking. Sensing trouble, Solaris kept his back to Moira and watched the crowd. Rance did the same, keeping Moira and the woman in her peripheral vision. In addition to watchin
g the crowd, she had another reason for not making eye contact with the woman.

  Rance knew Lady Lysa. The woman was from Xanthes, had dined in her father’s home. She was also responsible for pressuring Rance’s father, Davos, to arrange Rance’s marriage to Harrison McConnell.

  “Hello, Lysa,” Moira said.

  “I thought you’d left Prometheus with your husband?” Lysa asked.

  She looked at Moira’s company, sweeping her eyes up and down Solaris’ flight suit. Her gaze slid over Rance, then Tania. “And you’ve got your servants with you, I see.”

  “I couldn’t leave them behind. You know how indispensable they are to me, Lysa. I can’t even go into hiding without them.” Moira smiled, but it looked forced.

  “And this flight crew?”

  “Friends.”

  Rance prayed Moira didn’t mention her real name. Even now, she didn’t want Davos to find out she’d been on Prometheus. If she escaped the pirates, Lysa would report straight to him.

  “If I didn’t know you were helpless without your husband, I would think you were planning to fly away.”

  Moira’s face blushed so red Rance could see the color beneath her veil. “I am not helpless without my husband. And we aren’t flying anywhere. It’s hard to do that without a ship. Now, if you’ll pardon us, we’re going to find a quiet hallway away from this infernal crowd.”

  Lysa nodded. The group moved on, faster than before. But when Rance glanced back, Lysa was following close behind Abel.

  Rance nudged Solaris again and whispered, “We’ve got a problem.”

  “She’s following?”

  “Yes.”

  Moira had looked back too, and seeing Lysa, stopped to confront her.

  Rance grabbed her arm. “No, keep moving.”

  Moira obeyed, and they turned once again, walking faster. Rance began to scan the area, looking for a side street to run down if they needed to. But Lysa was following too closely for them to make an easy getaway.

  The crowd noticed the group, watching with interest as they flashed by. As Solaris picked up the pace, Lysa fell behind.

 

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