Defying The Alliance: INFERNO (Novokin Alliance Invasion 2) (8 page)

If I hadn't seen them with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed it. It was almost like I had a brand new crew, eager and fresh out of the Academy. Peering up from the repair schedule, I took delight in pure a captain's moment. I heard about these while still in officer training. In all honesty I can't say I ever gave them a second thought. Watching all members of my crew working in tandem filled me with pride. Their steps were wide with purpose, their movements fluid, their eyes focused and shone with eager anticipation. There was no bickering, no lazy commentary, not a sliver of negativity. There's no finer moment for a captain, serving with a crew that's united in both cause and heart. I felt I needed to savor the feeling of pride and comradery.

Then the damned reality of our situation burrowed into my moment. It crept in like weed vines pushing tendrils of pain and darkness into and around my good feelings. Until it choked the life out of them. We all heard the cries of the dead. Demanding justice. We worked hard to bring vengeance to the dead to protect the innocents and our way of life.

Anya flew by on her long legs, yammering about something on her data pad and shouting off commands while the previous slaves we had liberated just over a month ago hurried after her. Most had decided to remain on board since then. We were fortunate to learn that two of them had trained as ship's mechanics. Anya had absorbed them on her team. Looking at them now, it's like they'd always been part of my crew.

She caught me eyeing her. Gave me a terse nod and then picked up her whirlwind diagnostic tour of the ship. Anya never showed it, but I knew this was hard on her too. She hadn't heard from her brother Arok since the first attack of the invasion. He was a commander in the Southern Cross Protectorate fleet; a group of pilots who specialized in cryo-sleep deep space missions. To this day she didn't know if he was alive or dead. Sadder still, she might never know.

My green friend Jaxx sat behind his console. He couldn't do much more than that these days, what with his bellies being ready to pop. Any day now I'd be a godmother to two bouncing little budlings. If we were lucky, someday we might even be able to take them to see their home world. All of the Protectorate worlds had suffered massive destruction under the Novokin invasion. The Floturans’ plight was most dour. The few survivors were sold into slavery. To once again have to face such a horrific reality was… I stole another glance at my first officer cooing at his bellies while Julie held each baby bump feeling for his budlings to kick. I'd have to be dead and vaporized before I let that happen to my godchildren.

My eyes lingered on the young female Terran. She's not even from this galaxy, and happens to have the strangest shade of hair I'd ever seen. Red like lava from the depths of the infamous Hellaschpring Volcano on Vesuvius Prime. Julie has been a tremendous comfort to Jaxx these last few weeks. We rescued her and several other slaves from the Lizardian slavers while on a mission on Deep Proteus space station. It was about five weeks ago. A rescue that put us in the direct crosshairs of the Alliance. To avoid capture and possible death we committed our first act of piracy in the outer rim sector.

Regardless of Julie’s relaxed, gentle countenance and youthful energy she more than proved she could handle herself under pressure. Her brilliant plan and antics helped us to confront the prime minister and oust him as a traitor to his people. Without even touching him. I can't believe she even had me going during the interrogation. I guess I shouldn’t be. She's the one who kicked us all in action back on Deep Proteus space station five. Her defiant spirit inspired us. Refusing to cower at the abusive ministrations of her Lizardian slaver.

The heavy metal door opposite him opened. He turned an unconcerned eye to the demure woman who slipped in. His first impression was that he was staring down at a prey animal, weakness personified. Her steely serpentine gaze met his and the corners of his tight sneer tugged upward. He had made the right choice as usual.

He went out of his way to avoid most dealings with her kind. Yet he found this dark haired woman and her penetrating eyes striking. At least as much as they could be in an inferior species. The Terran woman stood at attention after entering his quarters. She waited for him to motion her toward the single metal chair across from him in the spartan room.

"I assume you know why you're here Subcommander?"

A terse nod her only reply. Asmot appreciated this female even more. No need to waste time with frivolities.

His voice sounded relaxed by years of training. "Captain Jones started out as a mere nuisance, a gnat on a Brochain elephant's ass. But now it seems that gnat has gotten herself a small fleet. Still little more than an annoyance, but one that we need to squash."

"I heard that she gave you a beating during the incident with the mining colony," the striking woman interrupted. A sly smile was barely visible on her lips but evident in her eyes.

Curious, that he found her insolence both annoying and provocative. He dismissed her remark with a slow blink of his eyes. "With the help of another traitor she escaped. This Captain Jones' talent must lie in coercion."

"That it does Captain," the woman mused absently as if trapped in some long distant memory rather than sitting in front of the second most powerful and possibly most dangerous man in the galaxy. In a blink of an eye her countenance morphed into something tense and taught, reminding me of a cornered viper, ready to strike. Asmot found himself wondering, almost on the verge of concern if this woman across from him was armed.

Leaning in, she crossed both hands and made a show of placing them on the edge of the table as if to say be calm, I'm no threat to you. "So I've looked over the file you sent, and I know what you want me to do. My only question is, why should I?"

"Is not the glory it would bring to the Novokin Empire satisfaction enough for you?" He let the question hang out there, unattended and ultimately unanswered.

Steepling his fingers he felt a wry grin tug at the corners of his own mouth before he spoke, "I thought as much. If you assist me in this matter I will ensure that you will be the first and only of your kind to achieve the rank of captain. Not only that, you'll get a ship and crew to go with your new title."

"If I may be so bold to ask Sir, which ship will I be assigned?" The lilt in her voice, her first and only indication of deference to her superior. He found her intriguing.

Asmot waved a hand in the air, "Why any that you desire my dear, save my own and the supreme commander’s of course."

Pure malice emblazoned her dark, big, brown eyes. Pure hatred and darkness the likes of which even deep space could not rival twisted across her face. Even Asmot, the butcher of worlds who had earned the name Red Sky shuddered at the comely Terran female’s features distorting into such a grotesque, venomous visage. "I want the Razor."

Regardless of how empty the ship was, I couldn't find peace. Details of the impending mission sloshed back and forth in my head. It was risky, but there was no way we could back down now. The stakes were high. There's a moment, a deciding time when regaining your freedom, even a sliver of your dignity back becomes more important than life itself. This was that kind of moment. We all felt that way. Damn the consequences. Or so we thought. 

I struggled to prepare for another briefing with the other ships' captains, scheduled two hours from now. Without a personal assistant all the administrative work had fallen squarely in my lap.
Ugh!
I could feel the grumpy knocking at my door. Heck, even I didn't want to be around me right now.

Alone in my quarters, I dropped like a stone on my over-sized, unmade bed. One of the perks of being a captain, more space to be lonely. Lacing my fingers back behind my head I prayed for silence, but it wouldn't come. It never did. In quiet moments like this my mind always skittered back to that day; the first mind numbing images of New Astoria's destruction and the ensuing rage that followed.
Skeck! 

Trying to shake the images out I turned my head to the side and I focused on the picture of a young happy couple. A brown-haired young man with a kind smile and joyful eyes was looking at me through the large, glass picture frame settled on my bureau.
I missed him so much.

No girl could've asked for a better father. He was always there for me. Always encouraging me, even when I was hesitant about joining the Protectorate.

"Isn't this what you’ve been dreaming about all your life?" He had reminded me. We stood there on the massive steps of the United Worlds Protectorate Senate building. It was the morning before I attended my first orientation at the Academy.

I remember not being able to look up at the building. It was so big, so humbling and stood for so much. "Yeah, but what if I don't make it? What if I'm not good enough, what if–." My voice cracked and my feet froze to the marble stairs leading up to the Great Hall.

“Hey,” he said. His hands rounded and gently tugged at my shoulders forcing me to turn his way. “Look at me sweetheart.” He held a finger to my chin, and tilted my head up to face him. He was beaming, "What if you're the best there ever was? Where will I put all the plaques and metals and vid clippings? They're the lucky ones, to have you. So let's make a deal, what if you just do your best and then we'll wait and see what happens. How does that sound kiddo?" He locked me in his big, crushing hug. His joy infectious. All was well and as it should be with the world. I hugged him back with all my might. His strength and courage infused into me.

I missed the way his stubble scratched my cheek. What wouldn't I give to smell that awful cologne he always wore because he said mother liked it.
Skeck dad, I miss you. I could use your help here.
I crushed the pillow I was holding in my arms, but I was still cold.

Beside him in the picture was a woman with the same hair and eyes as mine. I had but a few memories of her. My mother died shortly after the birth of my sister when I was three.

I started to breathe fast and shallow. The scream bellowed out from my throat before my brain even had a chance to register what was happening. I threw the pillow I was mashing in my hands at the wall. It ricocheted and knocked down the second picture frame on my bureau.

Oh not again.
This was the second time in a month that picture frame found its way to the floor.

I leapt off the bed desperate to examine my fatal error. I lifted the frame off the floor delicately as a surgeon. The glass was already gone since its last accidental encounter with the menace that was Caspia. The wooden frame finally cracked, splinters slashed the photo in half. I let out a long sigh, staring at the only photo I had left of my sister. I pushed the two pieces together thinking about her. We both had the same brown, unruly hair, and the same cinnamon eyes but the similarities ended there. My sister, my younger sister was taller and wispier than me, almost wiry.

We also never saw eye to eye on anything. Except for the Academy. Ever since she joined -three years after me- it seemed she was on a mission to prove she could do more, go further, do better. She wanted to prove she was better than me. I didn’t mind. I kind of enjoyed her rising to the challenge of the Academy life and I believed it not only propelled us both to be better, but grow closer. No matter what though, we were sisters.

Making captain of the Razor put a serious strain to our relationship. She never showed up for my captaincy ceremony. She’d joined the Protectorate and aspired to follow in my footsteps. But more often than not the official record stated that she "lacked the drive," and "was unwilling to put in the time or necessary hard work needed". Maybe if she’d survived, she’d have outgrown all that and be captain of her own vessel by now.

With care I removed the torn photo from the broken picture frame. I placed the pieces onto the bureau. I often wondered how and where she was when it happened or if she suffered when she died. My father’s body had at least been recovered. Some of his friends at the University had made sure it was properly dressed and cremated. I couldn’t attend his funeral, lest I be captured and killed. I would have no such closure for my sister.

Loss stabbed through my heart. I looked away. My gaze shifted across the room. I took notice of the large, ornate, metal frame sitting next to my cluttered terminal. I pushed myself off the bed, took a few steps and my shaky hands reached and picked up the frame. The word “Congratulations” was etched on the top of the square metal.

The day of my graduation from the Academy. The happy faces of my best friends smiled at me. My face happy, carefree. I couldn’t help but smile at it, and touch each of the faces in turn. My short frame stood out from the other Academy graduates in the picture, who all towered over me. The picture was perfect. A snapshot catching the perfect moment where we all screamed with joy and revelry. Except for Liam. I never thought about the smile that split his face every time he looked at me or what it might have meant. I never realized the depth of his love for me, even back then. How could I've missed that? I thought we were just having fun. He never seemed like the kind of guy to get tied down.
I thought he was just, just–. Why did he leave me? Why did he have to...

The metal picture frame flew from my hands. Smashing against the wall, it fell with a resonating boom on the deck floor. My shoulders shook beyond my control, while my keening reverberated from the walls. The pain of losing a love I never knew I had tore at my gut.

BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ!

Before I had a chance to make the decision to ignore the angry stinger bee at the door, my golden barbarian was in my room. His frantic eyes searched me from head to toes and then my space, like he expected to find someone else in the room. I stared back at him speechless, motionless. I prayed he hadn’t heard me cry. I'd be mortified.

He moved his muscular, half naked body near the tossed metal picture frame on the floor. His muscles tightened and stretched as he bent down and picked it up. He still refused to put on a praking shirt. Like he did it on purpose to frustrate and annoy me. His eyes perused the photo before he reverently placed it on the bureau next to the photos of my family. His intense, green gaze drifted back to me.

“Are you ok?” Worry coated his deep voice while he closed the distance between us. “I thought...” His eyes fell on the floor while he raked his neck. “Never mind, I apologize for intruding in your quarters like this. It won’t happen again,” he mumbled, taking a step back ready to spin on his heels and exit my quarters.

His golden ass wasn't getting away that easy.
Not this time.
“Yeah, right. I’ve heard that before Mister. You make promises you can’t keep. Don’t bother now. Don’t pretend you care,” I snapped, bursting into more tears. My shoulders shook. Like I was piloting a single engine fighter through atmospheric re-entry without any thrusters.

What the prak? Since when did I turn into such a crying little girl?
The more I tried to close the flood gates, the fiercer and hotter they ran down my flushed cheeks. I was mortified.
What happened to the hardass Captain Caspia Jones? Who was this feeble woman crying like a praking baby?

His eyes went wide with…
hurt?
My words cutting to the quick. He stood there for a moment, frozen, lips pursed. Indignance radiated off him in waves as if someone had accused him of murder.

“You say you care for me, for my safety. You tease me with your passionate kisses and you touch me like you want me, then you avoid me like the Xardian plague. What kind of sick game are you playing here Trex?” I saw the hurt in his eyes before he spun on his heels to leave the room. My knees crumpled underneath me. I dropped into a chair feeling more alone than ever, my chin bent to my chest, spent and torn.

Without warning strong arms braced my shoulders and hoisted my whole body up off the chair. He held me there frozen, eyes full of tenderness peered intently into mine, before his muscular arms crushed my small frame into the warmest hug ever. I melted.

“It’s not like that, my little Captain.” His sweet breath whispered into my ear sending tingles down my spine. I loved it when he called me that. “Please, believe me when I tell you this. I care for you like no one else before. More than you will ever know.” The pleading in his voice genuine. He stroked my hair and laid soft kisses into the hair on the top of my head.

I tilted my head back and raised my eyes, stunned by just how gorgeous he was. My nose twitched when his golden-brown hair feathered my face. I searched those smoldering hot hazel green eyes for any signs of deception.

What I saw caught my breath in my chest. For the first time, they were completely open to me, honest and something else...
oh my! Was it love I detected? It couldn’t be.

I buried my face back onto his golden, fur-speckled chest reveling in the warmth of it and needing to be close. To believe. Allowing the rhythmic pounding of his strong, steady heart to sooth the fresh scars on my soul. To calm my nerves. To quite my mind. Time paused as I surrendered to the warm, possessive nuzzle he gave me.

The fear I lived with every day for my crew muted and faded. The despair I wrestled with, the moment I opened my eyes, every morning since the day of the invasion was but a distant memory, while I cuddled in his arms. He felt and smelled like home and I felt like I belonged. Only the hint of loss remained.

My focus again diverted when his stubble shocked my skin. His full lips laid a soft, warm kiss on the slope of my cheek interrupting the tracks of my tears. Then he kissed the other side even softer, chasing my pain away. Grazing my nose his lips finally rested on the flat between my eyes, kissing away the worries.

“Then why? Why did you avoid me? Why are you trying to keep me away?” I jerked back from his arms as realization hit me. Panic washed over me. “Are you leaving?”
Oh Goddess, he wasn’t sticking around.

Golden ridges puckered the skin around his eyes. A pained expression reflected in the green pools of his eyes.

Before I knew it. The ever present rage that had been my constant companion for the last three years just laying under the surface in wait, reared its ugly head. With both hands I beat against his marbled chest. “That is praking skeck Trex! I hate you! I hate you!”
I didn't want this! I wanted the anger, the hate, the rage..
. Anything that would numb the pain of losing more of my crew, my friends, my family, Liam, him–.

I don't remember Trex gathering me into his arms, his chest now wet with my tears. My body shook like I was naked outside in a northern winter storm. The whole time he held me tight against his broad, massive chest. His warm breath caressing the hair on the top of my head.

I was mortified. If my crew ever found out, I’d soon be nick-named “cry-baby captain” or some such nonsense. My captain’s decorum had jumped out the airlock and was fast swallowed by a big, black hole, never to be seen again.  

I tried to push him away, embarrassed, but he wouldn’t budge. His muscles contracted tightening the vice like hold of his arms around me.
Skeck no! Now I was furious.
I lifted up on my toes and reached for his lips. My teeth sunk hard on his lower lip. I felt him tense. But once again he held still. Stubborn and rigid. Like a praking mountain, refusing to give in to my anger or acknowledge his pain.
Stupid man! How dare he!

"I will not leave you Caspia. I’m here for you now and forever. As long as you need me." His husky voice whispered into my hair, as if he was reading cue cards right off my soul. 

His words resonated deep inside me, like a cool breeze quelling the swirling, rampant rage festering my existence. Like healing balm reaching the darkest recesses of my wounded heart.

He wasn’t leaving. He wasn’t leaving me. I was able to breathe again. I took a deep sigh allowing my mind to calm and center. My muscles relaxed in his embrace taking in the warmth of his skin. He loved me and he wasn’t leaving. A glimmer of hope loosened the panic’s iron grip on my heart. My cheek was flat against his tear soaked, muscle ridden, golden chest. When I tilted my, certain by now to be, red rimmed eyes up to meet his, blazing green torches burned away any lingering doubt. The fire of his desire, his love, his want for me glimmered within the bottomless darkness of the gold-flecked irises, expanding to conquer the brilliant green of his intoxicating eyes. The intensity of his passion reflected in them usurped both my body and mind. A shiver rushed through me, awakening every sensory fiber in my body. Causing them to vibrate with excitement and desire. The stony look, the walls he usually built up were gone. He stood in front of me, massive, powerful and unflappable. The window to his soul was wide open, exposing it bare and vulnerable. My heart quickened, pumping warm blood south to my belly. Heat infused my core.