by Cheree Alsop
“Devren, get away!” Tariq said. There was no more pain in his voice, only all-encompassing fear for his friend.
“Get out of my way, whelp,” Edron growled. He pushed at Devren with his foot.
“I won’t,” Devren replied. He locked his small arms around Tariq so the man couldn’t move him.
The stick hit Devren so hard his breath left him in a gasp.
“Teach you for interfering,” Edron spat. “You and your goody-goody parents. ‘Oh, my dad’s a Coalition captain’.”
He hit Devren again. This time the crack across Devren’s shoulder made him cry out.
“Devren, run,” Tariq pleaded.
“I won’t let him hurt you,” Devren replied, holding on to his friend as tightly as he could with his small hands.
The stick struck him again.
This time, Tariq rose like an angry ursilis disturbed from its winter slumber. The boy, only a year older than Devren, set him to the side as easily as if he was a newborn felis and stepped in front of him like a shield.
“Don’t ever touch my friend again,” he shouted at his father.
Edron took a step backwards in surprise. He struggled to focus on his son. Anger lit his face at the boy’s defiance.
“Teach you to confront me, boy!”
He raised the stick.
Tariq didn’t wait for it to come down. Instead, he rushed his father, barreling into him at waist level. Given the boy’s small size, a normal man wouldn’t have gone down, but Edron was drunk and something akin to the rage of a beast seemed to fuel Tariq.
Edron hit the ground on his back and his head rebounded off the flat metal piece of the broken hoe. He stopped moving.
Tariq stood staring down at his father’s still form.
“Is he dead?” Devren asked with fear touching his voice.
No adult had ever hit him like that. He had seen Tariq’s father do it to his friend, but never with quite the rage he had just shown. Devren’s shoulders and back hurt where the stick had struck them.
Tariq shook his head. “His chest is still moving.”
Devren couldn’t tell if his friend was happy or sad about the statement.
Tariq clutched his arm to his chest. Devren could see where the bone was coming through the skin halfway to his elbow. Blood dripped to the ground. A dark bruise colored the side of Tariq’s face and a trickle of blood showed along his hairline.
Protectiveness welled up in Devren.
“Come on. You’re staying with me. We won’t ever come back here,” he told his friend.
He ducked under Tariq’s good arm. Tariq let him lead the way.
They didn’t look back.
“My mom patched Tariq up and he stayed with us. A few days later, we heard that Edron had gone. It was only when we got older that my dad told us he had ordered Edron to leave and never return. He said Edron should have put up more of a fight, but he just packed up and left.” Devren glanced at Liora. “Tariq never talked about him. When he married Dannan, I offered to send out a search for his dad so he could be there, but Tariq refused.”
Liora thought about the memory. “Why that one?” she asked. “Why show me that memory?”
Devren’s brow furrowed. “Tariq was always the strong one, a leader even though he never wanted to lead, a fighter, the first one in a fray, the best shot. No matter what he did, he succeeded because he was more determined than any person I ever met.”
He paused, his expression torn. He studied the wall across from them and said, “That memory was the one time I was the strong one. I protected him instead of the other way around. I got him out of there and brought him home.” He looked at her. “That was the one time he needed me. I truly believe that if I hadn’t gotten there, his father would have killed him. Edron had beaten him plenty of times, but never to the point of breaking his arm. The fact that he kept going showed that he didn’t have any sense left. He would have killed his own son.”
“That’s why he told you ‘thank you’ out there by the hangar,” Liora said.
Devren nodded. “I think so. He found me in the cell on the ship. It was like he knew I was there and he was biding his time to get me out. I’m not sure what would have happened to us if he hadn’t been there.”
Liora kept silent. She had built up plenty of animosity toward the man who had destroyed Tariq’s childhood. Hers had been similar in some ways, but far different in others because Damaclans were expected to raise their children with that type of abuse to toughen them so that they can survive the Damaclan lifestyle. Even though the race as a whole had become far less aggressive in its dealings with others, there was still the expectation that each child be able to defend his or her self. The fact that Obruo took this to a completely different level was another matter.
For Edron to raise Tariq with such brutality when those around him lived a life of love and security seemed far crueler. The images of Devren saving the older boy’s life showed the reason for their deep connection.
She glanced at Devren and saw him sitting against the wall, his head bowed and his hand holding his closed eyes as tears ran between his fingers.
“I should have been there, Liora. I should have gone with you.”
The heartache in his voice gripped Liora hard. Before she was even aware of what she was doing, she had moved next to him and put an arm around him. He leaned against her, his head still bowed as he fought to control his tears.
Seeing Devren cry did something to Liora’s heart. He was the man who had saved her from the Kirkos. He had come back for her instead of leaving her in Malivian’s cruel hands. He was the one who had been so kind as to invite her into his crew to save her life and give her a purpose. He had been there every step of the way except one, the step in which Tariq had been torn so viciously from both of their lives, the step that would haunt them each to the ends of their days.
“It’s okay,” Liora said, her voice quiet.
“No, it’s not,” Devren replied. “I should have been the one to throw the bomb. He should be safe, here, with you.”
He didn’t look up when he spoke. His free hand punched the floor.
Liora pushed calming emotions toward him.
“Don’t.”
Devren’s word stopped her. A wash of cold ran over her at his denial.
Devren opened his eyes and look at her. The agony in his deep brown gaze clutched her heart.
“Don’t soften this for me. Don’t make it go away. Tariq deserves to have those mourn his loss. His friends were few and far between. It’s only right that his death should tear us to pieces.”
Liora closed her eyes. The pain she had pushed so deep, the emotions she hadn’t been ready to address, all came bubbling up with such abruptness a sob escaped before she could stop it.
Devren lifted his arm. Liora ducked underneath and leaned against his chest. They cried together for the loss of the man who had changed them both, for the cruelties in his life that had made him who he was, and for the love that, despite everything, had shaped his every action.
Liora cried the tears she had fought so hard to keep at bay, and it was wonderful to have someone to share the heartbreak, someone who understood, someone who loved Tariq; even if it was in a different way than she, it was the love that he deserved.
Chapter 14
“Are you sure this is going to work?”
Liora glanced at Hyrin. The Talastan looked from Devren who stood with his hands on the box in the control room of the S.S. Kratos to the Ketulans who ringed the red planet in even more numbers than the last time they flew by.
“I’m not sure,” Devren replied. He looked at Liora. “How are you feeling?”
Liora felt the gazes of the rest of the crew. Those who had been in the room when Tramareaus revealed the box knew how important her reply was.
“I am very carefully not feeling anything,” she said.
Devren nodded. “Hyrin, take us closer.”
“I hope you know what you�
�re doing,” Straham said, his voice tight.
“Trust him,” O’Tule replied. “And don’t interrupt. Tramareaus gave very specific instructions to not interfere in any way.”
Devren closed his eyes as the S.S. Kratos drew nearer to the Ketulans. Liora took a tentative pull, careful not to jar his concentration in any way. The emotions she felt from Devren were jumbled. Fear mixed with anger, the need for control tangled with the stress of not messing up. The life of every member aboard the Kratos rested on his shoulders.
Ketulans began to drift toward the starship.
“They’re coming,” Hyrin whispered.
“Quiet,” O’Tule replied.
Claws came out to glitter in the light that shone from the Kratos.
“We’re in trouble,” Straham said. “They’re getting too close.”
“Let him concentrate,” Zran replied.
Devren’s hand wavered on the box. Liora worried that even though Tramareaus had assigned the captain to be the one to use it, the Artidus may not have considered that the Ketulans were responsible for taking Devren’s best friend from his life. Liora’s heart clenched. Their tales were very similar. Perhaps if Devren had been the one with the box in the room, the Ketulan would have attacked the way it was about to before Liora regained control of her emotions.
“Easy,” Liora whispered.
She pushed feelings of calm and control toward Devren. His eyes opened halfway and he glanced at her, then closed them again. She saw his shoulders relax and his hand press firmly to the box.
“What are they doing?” Hyrin asked.
Liora looked at the screen. The Ketulans that had been advancing with their blades out hesitated. Those closest to them began to back away. They spread out, drawing to either side.
“They’ve made us a path,” Straham said with amazement.
“Let’s go,” Devren ordered. He kept his eyes closed, his full concentration on the box in his grasp.
Hyrin’s hands shook as he steered the starship carefully between the rows of machines. The glint of the ship’s light on their claws made a tremor run across Liora’s back. She could feel them tearing into her skin, gouging deeper and deeper.
“They’re closing in,” Hyrin said.
“Liora,” Devren whispered.
Liora realized her fear was crossing to him. The Ketulans outside moved closer. Liora shoved the emotions away and pushed comfort and strength instead. She saw Devren’s jaw unclench and the Ketulans moved back.
Hyrin landed the S.S. Kratos on the red planet. He had to yank his hands away from the controls. His fingers remained white where they had pressed the board so tightly in his stress.
“Now what?” O’Tule asked, her voice quiet.
“I’ll show you,” Devren replied.
There was the hint of a small smile bringing up the corners of his mouth. Liora wondered what he was up to. A glance out the window showed the Ketulans surrounding the Kratos, hovering, waiting for an order.
At Devren’s quiet command, Straham pressed the panel and opened the hatch to the outside.
“The atmosphere here isn’t safe to breathe,” O’Tule began.
Devren cut her off with a shake of his head. “We’ll get suits on in a minute. Watch.”
They followed him out into the red planet’s bright daylight. Squinting, Liora made out the huge ship that had crashed into the red sand. The huge holes in its sides showed the reason for its crash. The hull was halfway buried in the blowing dust.
“How do we get the coordinates from that?” Zran asked.
“We don’t need to,” Devren replied. He paused, waiting like a storyteller for the perfect timing, then said, “We’re going to fly it.”
“What?” Hyrin replied.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Straham said.
Devren merely smiled and closed his eyes again. To Liora’s amazement, the Ketulans that had surrounded the Kratos in a cloud flew toward the partially-submerged ship. As the astonished crew watched, they exchanged their claws for tools.
“What did you do?” Liora asked.
Devren glanced at her with a smile. “I altered their orders. Instead of killing us for whoever controls them, they’re to fix the ship and take us back to whoever controls them.”
“That’s genius,” Straham said.
“I told you to trust him,” Hyrin replied.
O’Tule rolled her eyes.
“What about worms?” Zran asked. He eyed the sand in front of them with uncertainty. “Am I the only one who forgot that a worm devoured an entire Coalition troop in one gulp?”
“We can take a Gull,” Hyrin offered. “We won’t touch the ground, so it can’t track us. I’ll fly you guys to the ship, drop you off, and follow you in the Kratos. That way if something goes wrong, we aren’t relying on an escape vehicle built by the enemy we are going to fight.”
“That sounds logical,” Devren said.
“Talastans are always logical,” Hyrin replied with a pleased expression. “They just aren’t always the strongest as far as courage in concerned. I get to fly the ship I love and leave you guys to figure out that alien wreck.”
“Smart,” Zran replied. “I’m with the Talastan.”
“Me, too,” O’Tule seconded. “The thought of going on that ship gives me the creeps.”
It took far less time for the Ketulans to fix the craft than Liora thought it would. Afterwards, despite the crew’s trepidation, the machines seemed content to wait for their next orders.
“Think we can get them to fly it?” Liora asked as Hyrin took them over in the Gull.
Devren gave the Ketulans a skeptical look. “There’s one way to find out.”
***
The ships drew near to the black star cluster. The monitors around the alien craft showed asteroids circling the larger planets. The Ketulans didn’t slow. They weaved between the huge asteroids with deft proficiency.
Hyrin’s voice came over their headsets.
“Um, Captain? Things are getting a bit tight.”
“It’s probably best if you keep some distance. We don’t know what we’re going to find when we get to our destination. Stay on the outskirts,” Devren ordered. “Track us so you can pick us up if you need to.”
“Will do, Captain,” Hyrin replied.
They watched the Kratos fall back to the edge of the asteroid belt.
“Guess it’s just us, then,” Devren said to Liora.
“I can still hear you loud and clear,” Hyrin replied over their earpieces.
Devren rolled his eyes while a smile played about his mouth. “And here I thought we’d be going into this alone.”
“You’re never alone, Captain,” O’Tule told them.
Liora chuckled at the exasperation on Devren’s face.
“Why did I agree to communicators?” he asked her.
“Because you need my expertise when it comes to navigating the intricacies of the Macrocosm,” Hyrin replied.
“Thanks,” Devren said with a wry smile. “That was supposed to be a rhetorical question.”
“That means you’re not supposed to answer, oh great learned one,” Zran said.
“I know what it means,” Hyrin shot back.
“Let’s keep the banter down,” Devren told them. “We’re going to need to concentrate. We’ve reached the planet.”
They watched the surface draw near.
“Out of all the planets in the Macrocosm, this is what he chose for his home base?” Liora asked. “It seems a little cliché.”
“I would have gone with anticlimactic,” Devren replied. “I mean seriously, jagged ridgelines, deep crevasses….” He paused, then leaned closer to the window. “Is that lava?”
“It’s quite heartwarming,” Liora said. “Look. He rolled out the welcome mat.”
The Ketulans steered the ship toward a deep canyon. Yellow and orange lava shot up on either side. Fire burned along the rocks. They continued deeper into the crevasse until the ro
cks closed overhead and they flew inside a wide tunnel. The rocks around them glowed an angry, fiery red. Flames were stirred up by the breeze caused by their wake.
“This is a little more like it,” Devren said quietly.
They both stared at the huge opening in the tunnel ahead of them. The rocks spread to either side were clear like crystal or diamond, and they glowed from within with the same red fire, creating the appearance of an entire room of glass waving and flowing with the dance of flames.
“There she is.”
Liora saw her as soon as Devren said it. Her mother, the woman with the silver hair, lay on a crystal table at the top of long steps chiseled out of the stones. She was motionless and her eyes were closed.
“Do you think he killed her?” Liora asked, barely daring to say the words.
Devren shook his head. “He needs her for leverage against you. If she’s dead, you could just turn around and leave. He wanted you here for a reason. He’ll keep her alive until he has you where he wants you.”
The ship stopped at the bottom of the long staircase. When the doors opened, heat battered against Liora and Devren.
“We do this together,” Devren said quietly.
Liora nodded.
Together, they started up the stairs.
“Liora Day, my least favorite being in the Macrocosm.” The Sadarin’s voice sent a chill down Liora’s spine. She hated the way it grated right through her, tainting every part of her with its searching, searing tones.
She drew her knife and saw that Devren’s gun was in his hand. He held the box that controlled the Ketulans in his other arm.
“No firearms for you, Captain,” the Sadarin drawled.
Devren cursed under his breath and dropped the gun. The sound of the weapon clattering down the steps was loud in the cavern. He shook his hand. Liora could see the imprint of the pistol’s grip burned along his palm.
“I didn’t think you’d bring a friend,” the voice continued, echoing down from the top of the stairs. “Actually, I figured your friends had all abandoned you by now, what with you letting that human, Tariq, die the way he did.”