CassaStar (27 page)

The man’s gaze shifted to Byron. Catching the implication, Bassa turned to look at his pilot. Byron’s eyes widened and he glanced from one man to the other.

“
Me?” the young man asked, an anxious waver in his voice.

“
Yes, someone must remain with Bassa to assist with the recovery process. Since you share a familiar connection, your presence would be the most beneficial.”

Byron hesitated, his mouth slightly ajar. He glanced at his navigator, his expression uncertain, and Bassa wondered if the young man was up to the task. Byron treasured his privacy.

Straightening his shoulders, Byron nodded. “I’ll stay with him.”

The medical officer nodded and turned back to Bassa. “I’ll have a technician bring a change of clothes. He will also instruct your pilot on the recovery techniques.”

Bassa remembered to thank the man before he departed. Turning his attention to Byron, he noticed his pilot’s wary expression. Bassa’s head dropped against the pillow and he offered a weak smile.

“
Thanks, Byron.”

Crossing his arms, the young man shifted his position. “Well, I’m sure you don’t want to stay here all night,” he stammered.

“
Not really,” Bassa answered, amused by his friend’s nervous behavior. A total lack of confidence was a rare thing in Byron.

Bassa was allowed to dress in private, for which he felt grateful. However, his lack of mental connection meant he completely missed the conversation between Byron and the technician outside his door. Bassa retrieved his flight suit before stepping into the hallway and discovered his pilot waiting alone. Flashing an uneasy smile, Byron gestured toward the exit.

When the telepod doors opened across from his quarters, Byron poked his head out first. Indicating that the coast was clear, the young man allowed Bassa to exit and followed him across the hall. Bassa passed his hand over the press plate and entered his quarters just as the sounds of heavy boots echoed down the corridor. Byron breathed as sigh of relief as the door closed.

“
Didn’t think you were ready to be assaulted just yet,” he explained.

Bassa dropped his flight suit in the appropriate bin. “Not yet,” he admitted, feeling strangely antisocial. All he wanted was a shower and his own clean clothes.

“
Let me grab a couple things from my quarters and I’ll be right back.”

“
Be quick!” Bassa called as his pilot darted from the room.

Byron was not long in returning and Bassa retreated to the bathroom. The cold water felt good, but he did not linger. The lack of mental sensation was unpleasant. Bassa couldn’t even sense Byron in the next room. He felt disconnected, as if no one else in the universe existed. Dressing quickly, Bassa escaped the confines of the small room before anxiety set into his brain.

Byron awaited him at the table. “Feel better?” he asked, sitting up straight in his chair.

“
I suppose,” Bassa answered with a shrug. “Could use some food. Are you hungry?”

“
I am now.”

Bassa requested two meals in his room. The men said little as they consumed their food. The hour was late and he suspected sleep was not too far in his future. Bassa felt as if he’d slept for days, but it still wasn’t enough.

“
I’ve done nothing but sleep all day,” Bassa moaned, shoving aside his tray, “and yet all I want to do is sleep some more.”

Byron leaned back in his chair, his shoulders sagging. “I’m pretty beat, too. We probably both need a good night’s sleep.”

Rubbing his eyes, Bassa rose to his feet. “I’ll request a cot for you.”

A portable cot and extra blankets were delivered within minutes. The men each took a turn in the bathroom before retreating to their respective beds. Bassa stretched out on his back, pleased to feel his own bed under his body again. Once Byron had settled on the cot, he dimmed the lights.

“
Goodnight,” he called.

“
Goodnight,” Byron answered, stifling a yawn. “If you need anything, let me know.”

Bassa’s eyes remained open for a few minutes, adjusting to the darkness of the room. His lack of mental awareness was eerie. He could discern the form lying on the cot, but he couldn’t sense Byron’s presence. Bassa finally succumbed to exhaustion and the opportunity to escape the silence in his mind.

Restless even in sleep, Bassa finally arose. Disturbed to discover he was alone in his quarters, he went in search of Byron. Bassa wandered the Sorenthia and entered the hanger just as the ship was placed on alert. Without hesitation, he joined the officers boarding the Cosbolts. His ship was wheeled into position and shot into space without even a countdown. Alarmed to discover enemy fighters swarming the ship, he instructed Byron to take evasive action.

His pilot didn’t answer. Bassa called again, but there was no reply from the pilot’s seat. Reaching out with his mind, he realized he was all alone in the fighter …

With a gasp, Bassa awoke. The darkness of his quarters matched the black expanse of empty space in his dream. He reached out mentally, desperate for contact, but no mind returned his touch. Chest tightening as panic swept through his system, Bassa sat upright and reached out with one hand, his mind disorientated.

“
Bassa?” came a sleepy voice.

Turning in the direction of the sound, he attempted to focus on the dark form. Bassa detected movement, but his lack of mental connection with the voice’s owner unsettled him further. Only an empty void loomed within his mind.

“
Bassa, you all right?”

Realizing he was in his quarters, Bassa sought to dispel the darkness. “Lights!” he cried.

He caught a fleeting image of Byron on the cot before the brilliance blinded him. Hand covering his eyes, Bassa requested the lights to dim. Adjusting to the subdued light, his thoughts focused and he recognized his pilot. The reality of his situation became clear and Bassa remembered why he was unable to hear Byron’s thoughts.

“
Damn, that was bright!” his friend exclaimed.

As his heartbeat slowed, he realized how foolish his behavior must appear. Moaning, Bassa pulled his body upright and swung his feet to the floor. Embarrassed by his display of insecurity, Bassa covered his face with his hand.

“
Sorry,” he muttered, taking a deep breath.

“
It’s all right. You just startled me. Are you all right now?”

“
I’m fine,” he answered, rising to his feet.

Bassa stepped into the bathroom to splash water on his face, taking a moment to clear his head. Once he felt in control of his thoughts, he returned to his bed and forced his muscles to relax. Doubt continued to nag at Bassa, though. What if his senses didn’t return?

Chapter Thirteen

In the morning, Byron was pleased to discover food waiting when he emerged from the shower. Hunger overruled all other considerations and the men consumed their meal in silence.

Byron suspected his navigator still felt awkward regarding last night’s rude awakening. Bassa’s moment of panic had unnerved him. The loss of his senses had frightened his friend in the medical facility as well. This turn of events troubled Byron. The man never displayed fear, not even in the most dire of situations in the cockpit. The most stable and assured person in his life was coming undone and this worried him.

Finishing his food, Byron leaned away from the table. They needed to test Bassa’s senses soon. He waited until his friend had set down his fork before broaching the subject.

“
Feeling anything yet?” he asked, shifting in his chair.

Bassa’s gaze dropped to the table’s surface and his brows came together. His frown deepened and he shook his head in disgust.

“
Nothing,” he growled, leaning his elbows on the table. Bassa rubbed his forehead and sighed.

“
Try again,” Byron prompted, pushing aside his tray.

Setting his jaw, Bassa closed his eyes to concentrate. Byron watched with a hopeful heart, willing his friend’s powers to return. Bassa took a deep breath, his fists tightening. Suddenly, he lifted his head and slammed one fist on the table.

“
Nothing!” he exclaimed. “Just damned empty silence.”

Alarmed by the desperation in his friend’s voice, Byron cringed as he realized what was required. Reviving stunned senses required an open mind. He couldn’t shield, as it would prevent connection, thus forcing Byron to sacrifice the one thing he treasured – his privacy. He felt uncomfortable with the process, but he had to try for Bassa’s sake. His friend deserved every opportunity.

Clearing his throat, he leaned forward. “I guess we need to work on it together, then. Focus on my voice,” Byron instructed, his authoritative tone catching Bassa’s attention. “Listen for my voice in your head.”

Bassa appeared skeptical, but he dropped his chin and closed his eyes. Byron focused on his navigator, determined to reach his friend.

Hear my voice,
he thought.
Follow the sound. Follow my thoughts.

He repeated his entreaty, his eyes on Bassa. His navigator gave no indication that Byron’s voice registered. Frustrated by the lack of response, he closed his eyes and tried again.

Bassa, hear me. I know you can! Follow my voice. Find your own
.

Something stirred in Bassa’s mind. Eager to uncover any remaining trace of mental ability, Byron followed the echo.

Try again! Follow my voice.

A tiny sound rippled through his friend’s mind, but it was not enough to establish a connection. Abandoning all caution, Byron flooded Bassa’s mind with his presence.

You have to hear me because I’m not flying with anyone else!
he cried, his eyes squeezed tight.

Something stirred within Bassa’s mind and Byron grasped at that thread. His friend could not abandon him now …

I … hear … you …

The voice was faint, but his friend had indeed spoken. Byron’s eyes flew open as he uttered a triumphant cry. Bassa met his gaze, his expression incredulous. Byron grinned foolishly as relief flooded his entire body.

“
You did it!” he exclaimed, slapping the table.

Bassa grasped his arm and Byron returned the gesture as he continued to grin with excitement. His friend appeared equally elated, his eyes revealing a gratitude he could not voice. Sensing the intensity of the moment, Byron decided to press forward.

“
Let’s get the rest of your senses working,” he offered.

Bassa lowered his head and closed his eyes. Feeling apprehensive but a little more confident, Byron did the same. Taking a deep breath, he opened his mind and reached out to his friend. He sought to connect with every aspect of Bassa’s mental abilities. He’d never entered another man’s mind before, although he endured evasive probing as a child. Bassa’s thoughts were faint, but his senses seemed intact. Byron focused on that area of the brain, encouraging his friend to reconnect. As if sleeping, Bassa’s mind began to awaken and return to life.

As the man’s senses grew in strength, Byron became aware of a thousand different thoughts. A kaleidoscope of images swirled in his mind. Scenes drifted in and out of focus like a dream. He saw Bassa’s parents and brother, now just distant memories. Moments from his friend’s first tenure as a navigator, as well as his years as an instructor, flitted past his mind’s eye. The images were strong and fresh, and the sights he viewed intrigued Byron.

The accompanying emotions carried the most impact, though. A hint of regret colored Bassa’s thoughts regarding his lack of mate or family, although it did not run as deep as his feelings regarding Tal. He continued to harbor guilt and blamed himself for ignoring his obligations as an older sibling. That perceived failure weighed heavy on his heart. Byron sensed Bassa’s remorse stemmed from those feelings rather than a genuine love for Tal.

The brothers were never close. The realization of this fact caught Byron by surprise. Bassa had never loved Tal, and only thoughts of the man’s parents carried any sense of genuine affection. Despite the vast number of partners and friends over the years, Bassa had never connected with any of them.