Authors: Catherine Spangler
Rising to face him, Moriah wanted to kick herself. In the flurry of McKnight’s arrival and taking care of Sabin, she'd forgotten to erase her communications. She'd fixed the navigation records when she reset course for Elysia, but then she'd gone to care for Sabin, and had never given the calls another thought.
She realized trying to lie her way out wouldn't placate him. It would only provoke him further. It made no difference now whether or not he knew she'd breached his security. "I overrode your security codes."
"How did you do that?"
"It's an old system, easy to breach."
He clenched his teeth so hard, she thought his jaw might crack. "Then you contacted my partner?"
No way around admitting to that. She simply wouldn't reveal the entire story. Sabin would never know McKnight had actually traveled to the ship. "You were very sick. I thought he might know—"
"You contacted McKnight to tell him I was sick?"
"Well, yes—"
"Great, just great!" The ungrateful wretch threw his hands up in disgust.
"I thought you might die!"
"Yeah, right. So you called my partner. The old man probably had a fit. I'm surprised he didn't come and try to doctor me himself."
He was way too close to the truth. "He told me to make the broth and feed it to you," she said quickly.
Sabin regarded her, his expression skeptical. "That's all he said? No ranting about medical supplies and how I really needed this medicine or that?"
She shook her head. "No. Guess he knew you wouldn't have anything. He told me how to make the broth. Said it would help your recovery."
"Just proves he secretly hates me," Sabin muttered, running his hand through his hair. He fixed her with a midnight glower. "And it makes me wonder if you can be trusted."
After all she'd done for him! Fury rolled through her. Drawing back her fist, Moriah punched him in the chest as hard as she could.
He reeled back, a stunned expression on his face. "Damn! That hurt!"
"Good." She punched him again for good measure, then danced back before he could grab her. "You sorry son of an Antek!" she hissed. "You've got debris instead of brains in your head. You were helpless for two cycles—helpless! I could have taken this ship anywhere. I could have dumped you or killed you. But I didn't. I took care of you. Kept your fever down, fixed you broth. Not once have you thanked me. No. Instead, you yell at me."
She paused, chest heaving, and then plunged back into her tirade. "Notice where we're headed? Elysia, that's where! Just as I agreed. I gave my word to go there and I intend to honor it. Even if you are a kerani's ass!"
Sabin rubbed his chest. "A kerani's ass? Surely you can do better than that."
"A lot of descriptions come to mind. But I refuse to lower myself to that level."
"Thank you."
"I—what?"
"You're right. I never thanked you properly for everything you did while I was ill. No one has ever done anything like that for me before. You could have taken my ship or escaped. I'm grateful you didn't." His sincere tone took the heat out of Moriah's anger. She hesitated, at a loss for words.
"Listen, I overreacted," he admitted. "I hate not being in control. When I was sick, I felt totally helpless. I've been taking it out on you. I'm sorry."
Another apology. At least he was willing to admit he was wrong. "It's no big deal," she muttered.
He studied her a moment, then a smile flirted around his lips. "I didn't realize you cared about me."
Electricity jolted her heart. He was far too handsome when he smiled, far too self-assured. "I don't," she clarified. "I wouldn't leave a wounded lanrax by the wayside to die."
"Right." The smirk on his face and the gleam in his eyes indicated he didn't believe her for a millisecond.
The problem was, she was having trouble believing it herself.
Moriah studied the screen, chewing her bottom lip. As always, the innocent gesture did wicked things to Sabin's libido. Unwelcome heat rushed through his body, settling in the lower extremities. He cursed her for affecting him this way; cursed himself for not having better control over his body.
As much as he desired her, he could not— would not—make sexual overtures toward her. She had survived the unthinkable. After her past experiences with men, she deserved someone special, someone who would cherish her, help her overcome the past. Sabin was not that man, never would be. He had no interest in emotional entanglement, no aptitude for it. He knew where it led. To pain.
The subspace transceiver beeped. He punched the pad. "Travers here."
"Ranul here."
He sat up straighter. He rarely heard from fellow Shielders, and even rarer was his communication with their leaders— unless they needed supplies or something was wrong. He activated the viewscreen. "It's been a while."
Jarek san Ranul's image flashed on the screen. "It has. I'm afraid I might have bad news. Are you alone?"
Trepidation slithered through him. He was sure he didn't want to hear Jarek's news, whatever it was. His looked at Moriah, who watched with open interest. She already knew far too much, already posed a threat to a Shielder colony, and to Sabin himself. Yet, oddly, he was beginning to trust her, which was crazy, considering the lady had drugged him and stolen his ship.
Yet, although she had breached his security measures, she hadn't taken advantage of him while he'd been delirious with fever. She had remained by his side during his illness, keeping the course for Elysia. Still, regardless of her surprising actions, he couldn't take the chance of her learning any further information about his people.
"Give me a moment," he answered, still looking at her. He muted the contact. "I need to take this alone."
She stood, flipping her hair over her shoulder. The motion stretched her bronze flightsuit over her lithe form. For once, he was unaffected, too apprehensive about this communication to react to her allure. He waited until the panel slid shut behind her and then released the mute. "What is it?"
"We believe the Nissar colony has been attacked by Anteks."
The news hit Sabin like firing blasters. He went rigid, frozen with dread, trapped inside an avalanche of dark demons. Adrenaline surged as an all-too-familiar kaleidoscope of hideous scenes flashed through his mind. Terror. Screaming. Death.
He finally found the strength to speak. "What information do you have?"
Jarek's features remained stiff, but torment burned in his eyes. "One of my men doing surveillance on Calt overhead a Neanderthal by the name of Turlock boasting that he and his partner had discovered the colony. Claimed he sold the information to the Controllers. He apparently had a lot of money to spread around. When we tried to contact Nissar, we got no answer. I fear the worst. I'm headed there right now. Where are you?"
Turlock. Just as Sabin wondered where he'd heard that name before, the answer came to him. Turlock was Galen's latest cohort. Coldhearted, greedy bastard that he was, Galen would be more than willing to sacrifice an entire colony for gold.
A tidal wave of fury broadsided him. He knew with every cell in his body Galen was behind this senseless massacre. Because of the bounty on his head, Galen couldn't approach the Controllers with the information. But Turlock, his so-called partner, could. Galen was a dead man. Reward or not.
"Sabin? Did you hear me?"
He forced himself to think. "I'm two cycles from Elysia, traveling from Intrepid."
Jarek brought up some data. "Then you're less than two cycles from the colony. You're the closest one. I need you to meet me there."
Sabin understood the request all too well. Traveling to Nissar would be dangerous enough for two Shielder ships, much less one. There might be Anteks still loitering at the colony, or scavengers out for plunder, or slave traders searching for Shielder survivors to sell at Slaver's Square on Elysia.
But worse—far worse—would be the total, absolute destruction: of people, animals, and buildings. Nothing remaining but charred bodies and smoldering rubble. The echoes of screaming terror. The stench of death. He remembered them all too clearly.
Clenching the console, he willed air into his constricted lungs, willed himself to stay focused on the present. On what had to be done. No matter how horrifying.
It's been over twenty-four seasons,
he told himself.
Put it behind you and do your duty.
He was a Shielder, first and foremost. His obligations lay with his people. "I'll get there as fast as I can."
"You have my gratitude. I'm a little over two cycles away myself. I'll keep trying to contact them while I'm en route. When you arrive, orbit at a safe distance until I get there. We'll go planetside together."
Sabin thought of Moriah. Her presence made the situation even more precarious. He could be putting her in grave danger. At the very least, this detour would become a major source of conflict. But duty to his people came before all else. "All right," he told Jarek. "I'll wait for you to arrive. But contact me via computer rather than through the transceiver when you make orbit."
After Jarek signed off, he stared at the blank screen, battling the nightmares of the past. The fear, the pain, the stark reality that hundreds of lives could be extinguished in the cold blink of an eye. Death that claimed its victims mercilessly, while leaving those who did survive dead inside.
Finally, he set course for Nissar. And steeled himself to endure the horror to come.
* * * *
"Strap in and prepare for landing," Sabin ordered.
Moriah looked up from her computer. "We've arrived at Elysia?"
He'd been wondering how to handle this moment. He had kept quiet about their change in course, choosing to give her as little information as possible. He hadn't talked about much of anything, for that matter. He had no words, only memories that clawed at his gut.
She had eventually quit trying to instigate conversation. The silence was fine with him. He'd needed the distance from her. She was entirely too distracting. He could never take the risk of caring for anyone—never. If anything, the situation he and Jarek were about to face should reinforce that fact.
"We're not at Elysia," he said gruffly. "I had to make another stop first. We'll be on track again within a cycle."
Disbelief filled her eyes. "Where are we?"
"Better you don't know. But we're going to Elysia after I finish here."
Her eyes turned bronze as anger replaced disbelief. "I have every right to know where we are. How far are we from Elysia?"
"Three cycles. Trust me, you don't need to know anything about this side-trip. It has nothing to do with you."
She rose slowly from her chair. "Trust you? I gave you my word, and I've kept my end of the bargain. For some idiotic reason, I expected you to do the same. Now you're telling me we've traveled two cycles out of our way, costing me five—
five
—cycles of precious time. And it's none of my business? You can jump in the Abyss!"
He regretted what he had to do next, but he had little choice. Reaching into a cabinet, he pulled out some shackles. "I'd hoped you'd be reasonable." He stood to face her. "I apologize for the loss of your time. I'll make it up to you if I can. But make no mistake—I have to do this. You can cooperate and agree to wait for me on the ship, or I'll be forced to restrain you. Your choice."
Her hands clenched against her things, she glared at him, shaking with anger. "You bastard."
He really felt like a bastard, especially since she had honored her end of the bargain. "Agreed. But I'm bigger and stronger, and you have no choice in the matter. What will it be? Cooperation or coercion?"
She stared at him a moment longer, her eyes a blur of gold sparks, her hair tumbling around her shoulders. Finally, she tossed her head with a frustrated sigh. "I'll cooperate. I'll wait on the ship."
His bluff had worked. Relief swept through him. He had absolutely no intention of shackling her. If something went wrong, if anyone was plundering the colony remains, if an Antek patrol returned, if anything happened to him, Moriah would be on her own. She might have to defend herself. Or she might have to pilot the ship to safety.
"Your word that you won't try to escape and that you'll continue on to Elysia with me afterwards. Not that it would do you any good to leave the ship." He steeled himself against the suffocating coldness permeating him. "There's no one here who can help you."
"My word is good," she bit out. "I think I've proven that. How long will you be gone?"
How long? How long did it take to view total carnage? To determine there were no survivors? And then…how long to forget?
"No more than a few hours. So sit down and put on your harness."
After they landed, Sabin stood and strode into the corridor. Going to the weapons vault, he opened it. He took out body armor and strapped it on. Then he pulled out two guns and sled them into the holsters on his utility belt. He also took another gun, two stunners, and a plasma rifle.
"I take it this isn't a social call," she commented from behind him.
"No." He checked the charges on the stunners, hooked one onto his belt. "Here." He held out the other stunner and the third gun. "Just in case."
Her brows rose as she took them. "In case what?"
So much evil in the universe. So many heinous possibilities.
A great heaviness in his gut, he pulled out a blast helmet. "You might need to defend yourself."
Frowning, she stared at him. "What's going on?"
He wanted her to have a life. A future. She needed an avenue of escape if one became necessary. "Nothing that concerns you. But if I haven't returned in two hours or contacted you on the comm link, fire up the engines and get out of here."
He paused. She still knew the location of a Shielder settlement. Similar knowledge had just destroyed innocent people. He went to the hatch and opened the portal. No one should ever see such a heinous sight, but desperation spurred his decision. "Look out there."