Moonstruck (18 page)

“Finn.” Her warning held a pleading note that made his heart wrench. “Don’t.” She’d gone white.

He backed off, touching his hand to her pale cheek to convey he was sorry. “We don’t know what we’ve got at Goddess Reach. It might be terrorists, or a simple raid by starving pirates.”

“If you’re looking for my sympathy for pirates and raiders, you won’t find it.” She sneered, scrubbing clean—clean of any trace of him, it seemed like.

“Be wary of painting all rogues with the same broad brush.”

“Skullers, murderers—not ‘your people,’ right?” She dried off and pulled on her uniform while he stood there, dripping wet. She was baiting him. It was as if she was trying to make him angry.
To make you show your true colors, Rorkken.

A Drakken’s colors.

He wouldn’t let her do it. Not all Horde were monsters; he’d prove it even if it meant choking down his pride. “Your typical Drakken isn’t behind this. To insinuate they are is downright irresponsible for someone in your position. There are those on both sides who’d return to war over it.”

“If peace is that fragile, then we should have finished the war.”

“We did finish the war!”

“The politicians finished it. Not the commanders.”
Not me,
she left unspoken.

“It sounds like someone has unfinished business with the Horde.”

“Who doesn’t?” She fastened her gleaming collar as he buckled his belt.

“Consider your counterparts on the other side who feel the same. Chances are they’re behind the terror crimes on Cupezikan and, I hope to gods not, Goddess Reach.”

“Open,” she told the room-bot. The door slid open, allowing her out before they’d finished the discussion.

This was why you didn’t sleep with someone on your crew,
he thought for the hundredth time. Because when they frustrated the living hells out of you, you didn’t have to fight the urge to strip them naked to get them to pay attention!

Growling, he took off after her. Their boots thundered down the deserted corridor. It was ’tween shifts. Everyone who lived in this part of the ship was either working, sleeping, eating or in the bar drinking.

“A long war makes for a fragile peace, aye. It wouldn’t take much to break it. But who are we to make that decision for an entire galaxy? That’s what we’d be doing if we jump to blame too fast, trying and convicting an entire people for the acts of a fanatical few.”

They stepped into the lift. The door closed, sealing them in tense silence that seemed to last an eternity.

Brit’s fists opened and closed behind her back. Quietly, and with some effort, she said, “I accused you of being capable of unspeakable things for no other reason than that you are Drakken.” She hesitated as she stared straight ahead at the sealed doors, seeming to search for words. “I’m sorry. I’m angry. I’m scared,” she added in an almost-whisper.

Something deep inside him wrenched with her pain. She’d exposed her true self, and it cost her, he sensed. If ever there was a time he wanted to draw her into his arms and hold her close, this was it. “Ah, Brit…”

“No.” Her hand shot up. “Don’t say anything.” It was as if she was trying hard not to break down, knowing that if he offered tender words, she would. “What I said…isn’t how I really feel about you. You’re not like the skullers. I know that.”

That came from the heart, bringing him one step closer to capturing it. “I do know, sweetheart.” How oddly liberating to utter the tender pet name outside her bedroom, he thought, even if they’d likely never have the freedom to reveal their relationship in public. A pang of grief grabbed at his chest, and regret for what they’d never have.

The lift stopped at bridge level. “Door—remain closed,” she told the lift-bot then turned to him. Her expression was confused, uncertain. “Why do you put up with me?”

“When I’ve found something good, I hold on to it.”

“Good…Me?” She let out a weary laugh absent of any trace of happiness. “You’re mistaken, Warleader. I’m not good. Not even close.”

With that, she changed back to Admiral Bandar and released the door, walking out of the lift and onto the bridge.

“S
TATUS
,” B
RIT CALLED
out as she took command of the bridge.

“Distress call verified,” the comm officer reported. “It’s a data signal only. It shows voice, but we haven’t been able to get it yet.”

“In light of what we found on Cupezikan, we will respond immediately nonetheless. Time remaining to Goddess Reach at ninety percent speed,” she demanded of Tango, the Earthling pilot.

“Five-point-seven ship-hours, Admiral,” he said.

“Set course to Goddess Reach.”

“Yes, Admiral.”

In his hand was a multicolored cube. Curious, she walked over to his station and took it from him. “What is this?”

He started to rise to his feet. “Remain seated, Major. You’re on duty. Any other time, yes, you would stand when I address you.”

“Yes, ma’am.” His throat moved. She made him nervous. She cast a glance at Hadley, who was pretending to look anywhere but at the Earthling. “It’s called a Rubik’s Cube,” he said. “It’s a puzzle.”

“I see.” Brit looked it over. “A toy. You’ve brought a toy to the bridge. Do I assume all this is a game to you, Major?”

“No, ma’am.” He acted more like a frightened grass-bunny than a military officer. Cadet Pehzwan had more composure about her than he did. She returned the puzzle cube and made a mental note to start putting the Earthling to the test as she had Hadley. The officer-children on this ship needed to grow up. She helped them not at all by sheltering them; more than ever if the galaxy once again was leaning toward war. There would be no more deaths on her conscience. There were enough of them as it was. “Put it away, and don’t bring it here again.”

“Yes, ma’am. I mean, no, ma’am.” Flustered, he corrected, “I understand.”

Greener than pond scum, she thought and walked away. At Tango’s age, she’d already had countless battles under her belt.

The comm officer called out urgently, “We’ve got a voice signal now, Admiral.”

“Put it on.”

The sounds of chaos exploded on the bridge. “They’re here! They’re coming! Oh, my gods…”

Everyone on the bridge went silent, riveted by the sound of screaming in the background and…was that the sound of plasma fire? Brit exchanged an alarmed glance with Finn. “It’s the Horde!” the person shouted.

Horde. Everyone in the sector who cared to listen had heard that transmission. Finn’s fears of mass retaliation toward the Drakken had just moved a step closer to reality.

“Oh, gods save us. Someone help us—
please.
” The communication ended with the sound of a baby crying.

Inside, Brit crystallized with purpose. “To Goddess Reach—maximum speed,” she ordered, hoping they weren’t already too late.

A
T THREE-POINT-ONE HOURS
into the journey to Goddess Reach, a proximity alarm blasted. “Drakken cruiser in range, Admiral,” the bridge officer informed Brit.

A surge of excitement washed away the cold dread lying in her belly since Cupezikan. Were these the skulling bastards she was after? Were they foolish enough to cross her path? Did they not know who was tracking them? Vengeance was always sweet.

“Give me a holo,” she directed.

An image of a smallish Drakken vessel appeared on the holo-vis. The ship was armed, but nowhere near the size it would need to be to take on a battleship the size of the
Unity.

“Do you think it’s them?” Hadley asked.

“Tell me what you think.”

“Well…”

Brit waited for the girl to have the courage to advocate her own opinion. It was, after all, what she was training her to do.

“It’s a small ship, Admiral. It looks rather banged up, too. I don’t think it’s the same raiders who killed the scientists.”

“Small, banged-up ships can house monsters capable of committing atrocities as well as larger, sleeker models can.”

“True….” Hadley thought some more, then said, “My gut tells me they’re not the ones we’re looking for.”

“It is wise not to discount one’s gut, Hadley. It is also wise, however, to never give a Drakken the benefit of the doubt.” Brit stopped, realizing what she’d said. Realizing that she might be wrong, and yet not being able to fully commit to a sea-change of thinking she blamed on taking Finn as a lover. To her, Drakken were guilty until proven innocent. To her, they were all of the same mold—monsters in human form. That was, until Finn Rorkken showed up and turned her life upside down, forcing her to see him as a man, not Horde.

Her relationship with Finn was inappropriate on so many levels. Most troubling, it caused her doubt within herself as a military commander. He’d given her cause to think twice when before she would have acted without hesitation. Black and white, right and wrong, it used to be so clear.

It was no longer.

“More of an issue here, Hadley, is whether intercepting the raider vessel is justified. Likely you are correct, these are not our skullers and stopping to bother with them will delay our arrival at Goddess Reach. This is when a commander’s own feelings on a matter will come into play, as mine will in this instance. I for one could not stomach knowing that I let murderers slip through my fingers. Thus we will intercept, board and remove the crew. I’ll give them the chance to prove their innocence, of course.” A swift chance, but a chance all the same.

And if they were the skullers? It was over for them. Her hand closed into a fist. She’d punish them for their sins and savor every moment of doing so, she thought, as bitterness filled her, a bitterness that felt at once more comfortable in its familiarity than the tolerance Finn advocated.

“Moreover, the distress signal from the imperiled settlement has stopped,” Brit continued, in an attempt to justify what she never before felt compelled to justify: capturing a rogue vessel. “Unfortunately, it likely means the settlers are dead.”
Skulled.
Children included, she thought, grateful that her position of command would keep her on the bridge and away from the actual scene of the massacre. For even the most experienced soldier, it would be a gruesome encounter. For her, however, every glimpse of bodies and blood brought her back to that day on Arrayar. The nightmarish visions were kept carefully at bay. Even as a young officer, she’d been able to mask her reaction to such scenes. However, it was a situation she preferred to avoid now that the privilege of her position allowed her to do so. Draining it was, having to pretend it didn’t affect her so deeply.

You told Finn you were scared.

Yes, she had. Yet, he didn’t know the reason for her fear. Fear she’d mastered by transforming it into aggression, making a career of it. Oh, Prime-Admiral Zaafran knew about what happened on Arrayar; it was part of her official military records. But no one, not even Zaafran, knew the true events of that day.

She turned back to the bridge crew who awaited her orders: a command to intercept the rogue vessel, or dismiss it as an innocuous threat and proceed to Goddess Reach.

“Intercept the rogue,” she ordered. If it delayed their arrival at Goddess Reach by an hour or two, so be it. All that awaited them there was death. “Pilot, time to intercept.”

“Point-seven hours, ma’am.”

Not much time. Finn was asleep, knowing he’d need rest before arriving at the settlement. She brought her hand to her PCD. “Warleader.”

A pause—she counted one, two, three, and he answered. “Aye,” he said, his voice gentle hearing hers.

“Rogue ship. Small, armed, no military ID. I’ve ordered an intercept. Less than an hour to capture.”

“On my way.” His capacity to turn alert amazed her.

“We need a boarding team,” she told him when he arrived only moments later.

“Already done. Myself to command, Pehzwan to fly, Rothberg and Bolivarr for security.”

“No Coalition,” she noted.

“The rogues are desperate and scared. To lure them in, you’ve got to use the right bait. I have a Drakken crew, save one Earthling to show we’re Triad Alliance and Rakkelle as extra enticement.”

“Clever.” However, not necessary. The raiders were coming aboard whether they wanted to or not. If they had anything to do with the skulling, she’d be sending them on a one-way trip to the Dark Reaches for all eternity before the night was over.

T
HE SHIP TRIED
to outrun them, and of course they couldn’t. They refused to reply to comm attempts. Within range, the
Unity
trapped them in a web-beam array. Now the rogue was caught. There was no escape.

“Unidentified Drakken vessel, this is the Triad Alliance ship
Unity,
” the bridge officer said. “How do you read?”

Finally a reply: “Get off our freepin’ ass. We didn’t do anything.”

“Cooperation is in your best interest.”

“Go fuck yourself, Coalition scum, eh?”

Finn pressed a finger to his mouth. He’d not been any less arrogant plying the Borderlands of old as the Scourge.

Brit stood by. “This sounds rather familiar,” she said dryly.

“I never swore—not to you, at any rate.”

“I swore at
you,
” she reminded him.

“Enough to make a space-hand blush.”

“I made you blush? I doubt that very much.”

Their lingering glance was ripe with sexual promise. Then they seemed to remember where they were and walked apart.

Yarew was observing him. Finn fought off but listened to a prickle of alarm. This man and his intelligence background was not who Finn wanted learning about his nights spent with Brit. “The admiral and I have history,” he said, making light of the moment to defuse what the man thought he might have observed. “Here in the Borderlands. She never caught me, and it bothers her still.”

He heard Brit make a soft, derisive snort. “I simply let you go the way a fisherman releases a too-small fishlet back to the sea.”

Hadley laughed at their banter then contained her amusement as Yarew glared at her.

“I’ll talk to them,” Finn offered and took the comm. “This is Warleader Finnar Rorkken. I’m the first officer. State your identity.”

“Rorkken?” the vessel commed back. “A Drakken name.”

“Aye. I’m in the Triad forces now. Drakken, Coalition and the Shrine of Earth all serve together.”

Silence met his statement. They may have heard of the Triad, but had feared reports of its inclusiveness were lies to capture and imprison them.

“State the levels of your supplies—food and water.”

“What food and water? We got nothing. No money. Let us go. We didn’t do anything.”

“They’re underplaying it, of course, to get away,” Finn told Brit and Yarew. “I’d guess their supplies are, in fact, low. They have at most a week’s worth of supplies before they go hungry. We never had much more than that, even in the good times. They’ve probably come out to these remote parts to find something to steal without too much consequence.”

“Or kill?”

He shook his head. “Not these. They’re harmless.”

“If I’m letting you board that ship, Warleader,” Brit said, “you had better damn well be right.”