Jordan (36 page)

And while having his memories was a comfort, memories were no substitute for his arms around her, his demanding kisses, his
gentle teasing, his thinking fast on his feet. Going on without him would be the most difficult thing she’d ever done.

He meant everything to her. She’d do almost anything not to lose him. But if he didn’t unite the Staff and the Grail, Earth
couldn’t stand against the Tribes.

But suppose the damn legend was wrong?

Suppose Earth could win in the fight to come? Suppose Jordan’s sacrifice was for nothing?

Vivianne spun and headed to her cabin. She needed to talk to Maggie. Perhaps things had gotten better.

“Earth’s surrounded,” Maggie told her in a grim, flat tone that dashed Vivianne’s hopes. “The Tribes have given us twenty-four
hours to surrender unconditionally, or they’ll attack. They claim they have the Holy Grail and can’t lose.”

“That’s not true. Jordan and I stole it back.”

“It’s too late,” Maggie told her, her voice saddened. “They’ve blockaded Earth with an armada. Hundreds of thousands of ships
are up there.”

Vivianne’s stomach knotted in fear and frustration. “What’s Earth’s response?”

“Total panic. There’s almost no food. Little water. Martial law has failed. Too many deserters. There are riots in every major
city. Looting. No one goes out without a gun.”

Vivianne forced herself to speak past the fear choking her. “What’s Earth’s response to the Tribe’s ultimatum?”

“News is sketchy. Europe and Africa will surrender. The North American States are ready to fire nuclear missiles into space,
even though we know that when the radiation falls back on us, it may wipe out the planet.”

“Earth’s got to hold on, Maggie. Just a little longer. Once we launch the
Draco,
Jordan plans to unite the Ancient Staff with the Holy Grail.”

“The Ancient Staff?”

“It’s a legendary energy source.”

“How will that help?” Maggie’s skepticism came through the channel.

“According to galactic legend, once Jordan merges the two objects in space, the Tribes can’t win.”

“You’d better do it soon. With the state this planet’s in, we may blow ourselves up before the Tribes get the chance.”

“We’ll do our best.”

“Just hurry.”

Sick to her stomach, chilled, and hating her options, Vivianne ended the transmission and gathered George against her, his
warm, furry body lending comfort. The dog picked right up on her mood and tried to lick the tears running down her cheeks.
She angrily wiped them away with the back of her hand.

She didn’t have time for tears or sorrow or wallowing in self-pity. She didn’t have time to grieve.

The captain of the
Draco
couldn’t be seen crying on the bridge, and that’s where she needed to go. She hurried to the command center, all the while
sharing Maggie’s news with Jordan over her handheld. She arrived just as the ship floated away from the loading dock.

Jordan was at the helm. Gray was at navigation, Sean at engineering. Tennison was speaking to traffic control through his
headset.

Shari-ki
love, you knew this moment was coming.

Jordan’s thought popped into her head with a rush of tenderness.

“Traffic control’s asking us to pull out of the lineup.” Tennison frowned and tossed off the headset. “I sent back static.
But that will only work for another ten seconds.”

“Tell them our recent rehaul’s giving us a problem,” Vivianne ordered, “and we can’t power down.”

Tennison repeated the message twice, then cut the communication. “I don’t think they bought it.”

“How long until we clear the traffic?” Jordan asked Gray.

“Ten minutes. Maybe twelve.”

That was too long. The Tribes would send ships after them.

Sean’s head jerked up. “Captain, a warship just took off from dock eighty-seven. It’s heading straight for us, and everything
in its way is skedaddling.”

“How long until they have a lock on the
Draco?
” Jordan asked.

“Two minutes,” Gray said.

Jordan vacated the helm. “That might be enough time.”

Vivianne felt herself go faint, nauseous.

“Time enough for what, sir?” Gray asked.

Not yet.
Even if Vivianne hadn’t been linked to Jordan through
shari-ki,
she would have felt his determination. They were in space, and he had less than two minutes to unite the Grail and the Staff.

Goodbye,
shari-ki
love.

Jordan raced toward the airlock, the Grail in a pack over his shoulder, the Staff sheathed to his side. Every fiber of Vivianne’s
being wanted to race after him, to beg him not to destroy the Staff that gave him life.

She willed herself to stay on the bridge. It took every speck of willpower to let him do what must be done. Earth needed her
skills to keep the ship out of the Tribes’ hands until Jordan… died.

Oh, God.

Tennison remained calm. “Traffic control’s demanding we stop or be shot down.”

Vivianne gathered her panic and locked it up tight. “Tell them we’re trying to comply, but the valve’s stuck and if we shut
down, we’ll careen into the space station.”

“One minute until the warship has us in a lock.” Sean began a countdown.

Vivianne bit her lip and followed Jordan’s progress on the monitor. He’d almost reached the airlock. But even after he tugged
the handle, the portal would have to cycle and equalize the pressure before it would open.

“Where’s Jordan’s spacesuit?” Gray asked, eyes wide with horror.

Damn him. Even if the legend didn’t come true, he was going to die.

“Thirty seconds.”

The airlock opened. Now it had to cycle closed before the outside door would allow him to exit. He’d have to time his actions,
uniting the Staff and the Grail in the critical moment just before the outer hatch opened. Because after the airlock opened
to space, every cell in his body would explode due to the pressure differential.

Vivianne was going to be sick.

“Twenty seconds.”

As the airlock cycled, Jordan kneeled, opened the backpack, and removed the Grail. He unsheathed and extended the Staff to
its full length, then carefully positioned the bottom of the Staff over the center of the Grail.

A scream bubbled up from her chest to beg him not to do it. To forget the legend. She needed him. But so did Earth… She prayed
the distance between them prevented her from feeding him her emotions, that his dying memory of her wouldn’t be her anguish.

“Ten seconds,” Gray said.

Vivianne held her breath, clenched her fists, and pressed her lips tightly together so she wouldn’t make a sound. Jordan could
hear the countdown through the speaker system. She had so many things she wanted to say. But there was no time.

She should look away from the monitor before she saw the man she loved disintegrate before her eyes. But she couldn’t stop
watching.

Eyes fierce with concentration, Jordan showed determination in every tight muscle of his body.

Sean monitored the gauges from engineering. “The hatch should be ready to open. On my mark. Now.”

Jordan kicked the handle down to open the hatch. At the same time, he slammed the Ancient Staff into the center of the Holy
Grail.

Nothing happened.

“The hatch.” Jordan kicked the switch again. “It’s jammed.”

Gray spoke urgently. “Captain, the warship’s locked on to us.”

“Raise shields,” she ordered, then spoke to Jordan, her hearts pounding. “What’s wrong with the airlock?”

“The circuit’s blown.”

“Sean, go replace that faulty airlock circuit,” she ordered.

“On my way.” Sean hurried from the bridge.

That circuit had worked just fine when Vivianne and Jordan had come aboard just a few minutes ago. Had a circuit really blown?

Or had one of the Tribes’ mechanics rigged the airlock circuit to blow after they left the space station? But why? The Tribes
couldn’t have known their plans, or the
Draco
would never have been allowed to pull away from the dock. Nothing made sense, including the fact that the warship had yet
to fire a weapon.

“Why haven’t they shot at us?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Gray answered.

“They don’t want to destroy the Grail,” Jordan muttered through the speakers, recycling the lock to reenter the main body
of the ship.

Jordan was correct, of course. And that gave her only a measure of relief. Because not only could the firepower from the warship
kill them a hundred times over, they couldn’t out run the warship, either. Or even try Jordan’s dangerous trick of jumping
straight into hyperspace. With so many ships nearby, trying to jump now would pull other ships out of sub–light space with
them and create a massive collision that would kill them all.

“Holy shit.” Gray’s fingers danced over his screen. “The mother of all energy beams is shooting straight for us.”

Vivianne jerked her gaze from the monitor and Jordan to Gray’s data screen. The burst was wide, dense, and constant. “Evasive
maneuvers. Hard port forty degrees.”

“It’s a clutch beam,” Jordan yelled. “If it catches us, we’re dead meat.”

Vivianne had never heard of a clutch beam, but after she accessed Jordan’s memories, she knew that if the beam imprisoned
the
Draco,
her ship couldn’t cough up enough power to shake loose.

Vivianne prayed they could evade the beam long enough to fix the airlock. “Sean, hurry.”

“I’m on it,” he replied.

Gray fought with the controls. Sirens screamed. The engines protested.

“Throw the power from the shields into the engines,” Jordan ordered as he sprinted onto the bridge.

Vivianne stared at the data stream in horror. The beam was just a hundred meters off the
Draco’
s bow. “We’re not going to make it.”

Dream as if you’re immortal, live as if you’ll die today.

—K
ING
A
RTHUR
P
ENDRAGON

T
he clutch beam engulfed the
Draco,
and it felt as if they were swallowed by Jell-O, then held in place with Super Glue. Vivianne threw every ounce of power
into the engines.

“We’re redlining,” Tennison warned.

“All right, power down,” Vivianne ordered. There was no point in burning up the engines when they might need them later.

Gray frowned. “They’ve launched a shuttle.”

“How long have we got?” Vivianne asked.

“Four, maybe five minutes.”

Bleakly, she stared out the bridge viewscreens. There had been many times in her life when she felt like she’d come to a dead
end. After her parents’ deaths. Back in that cave on Arcturus.

Never had so many people been counting on her, and she was at a loss what to do next. They were trapped. In enemy territory.
Surely it wouldn’t take long for the Tribes to board the
Draco.

Jordan took one look at the data and spun on his heel. “Vivianne, come with me.”

“Gray, you have the com.” Vivianne had no clue why Jordan wanted both captains to abandon the bridge at such a critical time,
but she was doing no good here.

He hurried down to the engine room. “We have to make certain Trendonis doesn’t get the Grail.”

“How?”

“The Tribal shuttle will dock with the
Draco
in three minutes,” Gray informed them over the speaker system.

Jordan slammed his hand on the intership communicator. “Sean, have you replaced the blown circuit?”

Sean’s voice echoed back. “Almost done.”

“What’s your ETA?”

“Five minutes.”

“Shuttle will be here in two,” Gray said.

“Sean.” Jordan began climbing into the second spacesuit. “Forget the repairs.”

“Repeat that?” Sean asked.

“Don’t fix the door. It’ll only help the Tribes to board.”

“Understood, Captain.”

Jordan grabbed a spacesuit and shoved it into Vivianne’s arms. “Get in.”

Gray’s voice filtered down from the bridge. “We’ve got a problem. I’m watching Sean on the monitor, and despite your direct
orders, he fixed the circuit.”

“Stop him,” Jordan ordered.

Vivianne froze. “Oh, my God. Sean’s the mole. He jammed that door so you couldn’t get out. Now he’s fixing it to let the Tribes
inside.”

Vivianne eyed Jordan. “What’s the plan?”

He shot her a hard look. “I’m going to set off an explosion from engineering. The only thing between this deck and space is
one bulkhead. The spacesuits will protect us from the explosion long enough…”

He wanted to blow a hole in the
Draco’
s hull? Even if the spacesuits protected them, no one else would survive. “That will kill… the crew.”

“I know—” Jordan’s voice was tight, hard, and angry.

“But—”

“Every one of them agreed that they’d do whatever it took to save Earth. In times of war, terrible sacrifices must be made.”
He grabbed her shoulders. “There’s no time to argue. I need you to finish suiting up.”

“We’re the only two with spacesuits. That’s cowardly.”