Dana Cartwright Mission 3: Kal-King (25 page)

He then dove away for cover, kicking the commander’s tracker into the niche ahead of him, as Dade dematerialized.

“Bravo-Six, you got two foxes closing on your rear.”

He heard weapons fire from beside the ship up to the left, but his focus remained on the device as Three took aim and did the honors.

“Thanks Three,” came over the COM.

Janz stared at the display, seeing Alpha Team in serious trouble. “Bravi — Alpha team needs assistance. Move forward.”

He test fired his rifle, growled that it failed due to the disrupter. He grabbed Dade’s by the strap, and hurried to catch up with the others.

Janz showed them the tracker, and pointed to Three and himself then at another ship. That left three of them to assist Alpha team. He indicated a potential sniper.

“Roger,” came back from the threesome and they moved out.

Three started away, reaching a secluded wall near the Cutlass Class before realizing Macao wasn’t behind him.

“Bravo-Four, do you copy?”

He waited. “Bravo team, anyone have a visual on Four?”

“Negative, no sign of him.”

After deliberating for two-seconds, Three continued with his assigned task, doing a solo run.

Kieran launched from the lift and demanded of the MAT technician, “Put me down right where Commander Dade had been.” He had a hand laser in his left, and a tracker device in the right, as he stepped onto the pad.

“Commodore, sir?”

“Just do it!”

“Aye, sir.”

That tone got it done.

Kieran materialized in the bay beside an abandoned rifle. He did a quick three-sixty turn, but saw only one green blip inside a Cutlass Class and started for it, sensing immediately it was Janz.

Macao watched the barrel of the projectile weapon and not the man crushing his COM link device under a boot heel. Archaic as such weapons were, their kill rate rivaled a laser rifle, mostly because you bled to death before help could get to you.

“Who are you?” The human male demanded.

Janz stared. “I’m a Star Service captain. Put the weapon down.”

“Can you pilot this ship?”

Janz nodded.

The man motioned him away from the hatch and hit the mechanism, sealing them in. He then pointed up the ramp to the bridge.

Cutlass Class had only three decks: lower, central and bridge. Simple and efficient but not very practical for long trips. The space dock at Centauri Prime built so few that the model had been discontinued.

A solo pilot could easily handle the ship. A projectile weapon, however, could seriously imperil cabin integrity.

Macao worried that the man might do something rash. He needed a plan to stall — or, some reason to stay within the base — without getting himself killed.

Prince Korwin tapped Dana’s shoulder, and then fell into the copilot’s chair, stifling a yawn. “You look distracted.”

She glanced his direction before returning her focus forward. “Janz Macao is in trouble.”

“You want to detour?”

She shook her head. “No, there’s nothing I could do.”

“Nothing ‘we’ can do,” Korwin corrected.

She looked down at the console, watching the distance to Centauri Prime shrinking by the minute.

“We have a more important mission,” she admitted.

“Micah is resting comfortably.” He chuckled, “You’re even more of a worry-wort than I am.”

“What’s a worry wort?”

“A person who…not like you to worry, DD.”

Dana shrugged. “So much has happened — is happening — I think we have reason to worry.”

Prince Korwin lounged back,
 
stretched his arms up toward the ceiling and his legs out. “I feel it, too,” he admitted. “Just tension…like right before the EVA-Stress Evaluation, remember that?” He waited for her to comment, but none came. She was busy at the navigation computer. “What are you doing?”

“Revising our course and speed for an earlier ETA.”

“You’re always a step ahead of me.” Korwin grinned, “Just like the old days.”

Kieran skidded on the deck, landing just short of the Cutlass. He dove for cover, as its engines roared to life. The ship quickly rose to hover level just above his head, and the under-side gear retracted. He caught a glimpse of his brother at the controls, put up his weapon, straining to telepathically communicate with Janz.
What are you doing?

No choice
, came back.

Where are you going?

Hostage...to rendezvous with King, I think. Tell
Thresher
to let us through.

Kieran scowled. He tapped his voice-badge and demanded of
Thresher
’s MAT technican, “Grab me.”

McHale sat on his right hand to keep from making a fist, wanting to shake it at the Commodore, but he had an even harder time keeping the anger from his voice. “What is he thinking!”

“Fane! I don’t know. He wasn’t even cleared for the mission team; just took it upon himself to tag along.” Kieran sobered, “Where’s Xalier?”

Commander Coe joined them at the command chair. “Sorry to report, sir, but his link went silent just as you beamed down. I tried to stop you.”

Both Commodore and Captain hissed in response.

At that moment, the COM sounded. “Alpha Team to
Thresher
; objectives accomplished. Bring us home.”

McHale looked to Coe but demanded, “What about Bravo team?”

When no response came, McHale ordered, “You don’t come back until Bravo team reports secure.”

A disappointed “aye, sir,” followed.

McHale shifted his focus back to the armada on the forward screen. “What are they doing?”

“Waiting,” Kieran guessed.

“Well, so will we.”
 

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Dana checked the ETA a fourth time, just before Carlton relieved Baker — seven more hours to Centauri Prime. If
Katana
could go any faster, she’d push it.

Korwin appeared in the hatchway. “DD?”

They all turned, hearing the distress in his voice.
 

“Contractions have started.”

“Regular? Four-one-one rule?”

“No, not yet.”

Dana reviewed options. “We could detour to One. That would cut our arrival by roughly two hours.”

“No. Our son must be born on Centauri,” Korwin insisted, “but if you can, get us there sooner.”

Dana sighed. “Maybe if we shut down all non-essential systems, and I re-route power to the engines, I can boost our speed by five percent.”

“Do it.”

She swiveled back to the console to run a quick computer check. Shutting down duplicators, lighting, and aft shields, eked out just over six percent. She verified the course correction, and nudged the speed up accordingly. Then she took a serious scan of local traffic. Not a single major cruiser with a medical department appeared anywhere closer than Earth.
 

Fane!

She checked the new ETA, nodded to Baker, released the safety bar, and went below.

Korwin was holding Micah’s right paw; his eyes were closed as he meditated and breathed with her through the contraction.

Dana hated to interrupt until he was ready.

“DD?”

“Five point two hours.”

Micah smiled. “Our son is eager.”

“There are no ships close enough to offer assistance.”

Korwin reached for Dana’s hand, and guided it to Micah’s belly in time to feel a forceful kick.

She felt lower. “He’s well positioned. When the contractions are four minutes apart and last one minute or longer we’ll…” She didn’t want to use the word “worry,” but it was implied.

Dana?

She blinked.
Janz?

Tell me about Doctor Russet?

Russet?
She struggled to visualize the man, while attending the Princess.

Can you?

Janz, Princess Micah’s in labor; we’re racing to Centauri trying to…

Oh.
He didn’t apologize, but went silent.

She shut her eyes.
Russet is albino, born off-world.

A slave?
 

Hawk’s slave. He’s rather odd.

Is he a good shot?

I have no idea. Why?

Janz paused and sent her an image, like a freeze-frame snapshot. She involuntarily retreated as if the barrel of the weapon were mere inches from her nose.

Oh, Janz! At that range, a projectile weapon can be fatal.

He groaned.
If he misses and it breaches the hull it would be, too. I have two options: try something now or wait until we’re aboard King’s ship. I’m inclined to…

Wait!

Why?

Dana was about to respond when Korwin interrupted.

“Two-minute warning.”

He handed Dana a medical scanner.

“We’re not going to make it to Centauri,” Micah announced rather apologetically.

Dana ran a quick check, and then set aside the scanner. “I’ll get some things ready. Never done this in the field...”

She guessed towels, bed sheets, and hot water for sanitizing their hands.

Baker called from the bridge, “Um…we’ve got a warning alarm up here.”

Dana moved to go, but Micah reached for her. “Let Korwin go.”

He seemed reluctant.

“Please, my dear one,” Micah placed a kiss upon his cheek. “You go.”

Korwin got up from her bedside, gave Dana a nod, and then left the suite.

Dana locked stares with the Princess, hearing a calm and melodious whispered, “Dearest, I am not human. You know that. This form is not my real form, but a host body. This child is not my real child, yet he will have my essence and Korwin’s DNA.”

Princess Micah’s body shimmered. An energy cloud surrounded her form. Her mitten hands reached inside the womb; she lifted up a beautiful, baby boy with the cord already tied. No blood, no fluids, no pushing, no labor…

Dana blinked at the impossibility.
 

“Take him.” Micah handed the baby to Dana, to swaddle in a towel. “Bundle up some sheets and dispose of them as you would for a normal delivery. Now you know why I could not give birth to our son at Centauri.”

Dana couldn’t help but stare. “How can you keep this from him? You are mated.”

“Only Alphan-to-Alphan mating opens all the gateways,” the Princess advised.

Dana didn’t understand, so Micah telepathically gave her the secret.

“This means I could mate with Kieran, without fear of…” Dana realized.

Micah nodded, coaxing Dana to hurry, while cooing over her son. “Oh, Eloren, you are so beautiful.”

Korwin returned as Dana stepped away. “He’s here.”

“He was in a big hurry, my love.” Micah’s eyes twinkled, “Isn’t he perfect?”

Dana stood behind them, as Korwin brought baby Eloren to his shoulder.

“He is!”

“What was the warning?” Micah asked.

“Oh, just a message that we’ve reverted to back up batteries. Nothing to worry about.” Korwin smiled at his son’s tiny cries. “Did you know Eloren means ‘gift of the gods’?”

Dana nodded. “Shall I slow us down?”

Micah assured, “I’m fine, no rush now.”

“Let’s resume our normal speed and arrival,” Korwin said, snuggling with his wife and son. “We need the rest.”

“We also need the duplicators back online for baby necessities,” Dana teased.

She left them, going to the bridge, sinking down into the pilot chair. Neglecting the safety bar, she reprogrammed the navigation computer and sighed, telling Baker, “Prince Eloren has arrived. No rush now.”

She changed all the programs, slowed their speed, restored systems, and set the back-up batteries to recharge.

As she stared forward at the star field, Janz Macao’s mate whispered,
How wonderful, a boy.

Aye.

Shalee?
Dana sent.
Tell Janz to be careful.

You tell him. If I do so, he ignores me
.

Dana chuckled.

Shalee, where are you now?

Still aboard the small ship.

No, you? Where are you? Inside Janz’s head? In his heart? I don’t understand how…

Every living thing has an energy field. When I mated with Janz, our energy fields became one. When my body died, my energy field remained merged with his.

You’re not Alphan. He is.

That is so.

If he had died, would his spirit remain with you?

No.

What would happen to his spirit, if you had not mated?

It would cease. Just as mine would have.

And if he dies, you die with him?

No.

No?

A mated Alphan is reborn.

Dana shut her eyes.
I don’t understand.

Baby Eloren has the spirit of an Alphan reborn; and a very strong one at that.

I don’t understand.

You will, one day. Uh oh…

Shalee?

We’re docking with King’s ship now.

Dana’s eyes snapped open.

I wish I could be there.

You are, my friend, you are.

Janz paid careful attention to the weapon, as Russet slammed the airlock hatch mechanism. While deliberating if he could disarm and disable the man before the door slid open, his life-mate cautioned,
Wait
.

So, he did.

The small, Cutlass Class Alphan ships were designed specifically to dock with Dagger Class, the largest of the personal yachts. Though Macao had been aboard the larger style vessels many times, he only vaguely recalled the deck plans. He thought the dock put them on level four, right at the rotunda, and into a clump of five mercenaries in full body armor. He expected to be led up to the bridge. Instead, they took him down to the storage hold, pushed him into a wire cage with a dozen roughly-humanoid males, opposite a cage with some extremely exotic-looking females.

Russet, with his projectile weapon, remained behind at the rotunda. As the mercs left, and the lights dimmed, Macao had other things to worry about.

This is not good, Shalee,
he told his life-mate.

Patience, my dearest…

As the newest addition, he observed about half of the men cowering and staying away. The other half dared to inch closer. Janz ignored the stench, but not the threat. He puffed up his chest and lifted up his hands in a martial pose. Thanks to the body armor, he appeared a giant to the inmates. They retreated.