Chapter Eighteen

Riding the extra speed from supralight, t’Achreides-myn arced into system, far exceeding posted limits set for the navigation lanes. Her panel never lit with security warnings.

“Security and navigation beacons are offline,” she said.

He met her eye, frowning. “Then no one knows the Chekydran are coming.”

“Bugs blasting into an inhabited system means they’re going in for a kill. The only inhabited planet is Nol Jakze,” Edie said. “What the Three Hells is going on?”

The set of V’kyrri’s lips made it plain that his calculus matched hers. Not reassuring.

“We should link up to a beacon,” she said, “get an SOS broadcast going—”

“Stay on the mothership. We can’t let them—”

She shot him a glance. “I can’t go to Nol Jakze.”

“What are you talking about?” he demanded, flinging a hand at her view screen. “The crystal—”

“It’s like you said in the hangar,” she interrupted. “You couldn’t take me where you were going. I can’t go home—”

“You are going to have to get over your past.”

“They tried to kill me,” she snapped. “Nol Jakze does not want my help. If they ever did. They’re a Claugh protectorate. Let the Claugh protect them.”

“I am Claugh,” he countered.

“You’re going to protect an entire populace all by yourself?”

“If I have to,” he retorted. “I’d rather do it with you at my side. You can’t condemn a planet full of mostly innocent people to death by Chekydran.”

She slumped. No. She couldn’t. Because there’d be children out there. Running. Terrified. Pursued. And she knew about that. She wouldn’t be able to save them all. No one could. For the weeping, frightened fourteen-year-old she’d once been, she had to try.

She straightened her spine. No one deserved the Chekydran.

“I’m an impediment to you helping people,” Edie said. “Replace the relay on my teleporter. Let me put you down in the capitol where you can meet up—”

“We’re a team, Edie. You aren’t vanishing into the underbrush to hunt Chekydran alone.”

Stubborn man. She paid attention to piloting.

They achieved orbit without a single ping from security beacons. She tagged the Chekydran mothership on sensors. “There they are. Entering orbit.”

Palms damp, temples beating in time with her pulse, she forced her focus to the Chekydran ship. Bay doors opened. Small craft poured off the larger vessel.

“What are they doing?” she muttered, leaning closer to her readout as if that would force the symbols to make sense.

V’kyrri shook his head. “How do you read that?”

Edie swapped out the symbol-based system she preferred. The direction of information flow changed to accommodate the left to right orientation of Tagrethian.

When she glanced at him, V’kyrri scanned the panel, his expression tightening.

The swarm of little Chekydran ships broke apart into clusters of three as they entered atmosphere. They spread out across the blue-green globe.

“That’s not an attack formation,” she said. “Unless they—”

“Bombing,” he said. “They’re bombing.”

She grabbed hold of her panel to keep from falling, then dove for the nearest group, her main gun already warming. “Going for the nearest.”

“Where are planetary security forces?” V’kyrri snapped. He wrestled free of the bio-mesh and bolted for the com panel. “Give me a line.”

“Open.”

She brought shields up.

The Chekydran bombers skimmed the layers of upper atmosphere.

She dropped into position behind them. A short buzz of vibration beneath her right ring finger. She had a shooting solution.

One of the ships broke formation, circling to target her, guns hot.

Edie blew the ship into tiny glowing particles.

“Scramble your fighters, now.” According to the data on her screen, V’kyrri was shouting at her com panel. “I am Captain V’kyrri of Her Majesty’s Destroyer Queen’s Rhapsody.”

Edie flinched. Had to be tough to get the name of his dead ship out of his mouth.

The remaining pair of Chekydran ignored her. Bombs rained from their holds.

Confusion grabbed her ribs. She shot another one out of the sky. “They’re too high. Why are they letting bombs go? They aren’t even in position—”

“No. I do not have a destroyer in orbit,” V’kyrri snapped. “I’m on an adjunct mission for Her Majesty. We didn’t anticipate a Chekydran invasion, much less that your beacons would be offline. Get those fighters off the damn ground. You have bombers incoming. You’re Planetary Security. Get out there and protect your people. And while you’re at it, get your com arrays—”

Alarms fired off all over Edie’s bio-mesh, grating her nerves and rattling her teeth. “Planet-wide alerts firing.”

“Baxt’kal finally,” V’kyrri muttered inside her skull. “Idiots.”

“V’kyrri,” she said aloud, hoping she still had his attention. She took out the third ship and opened her throttle in pursuit of another bomber group. “What are they doing? They aren’t fighting back. They’re dumping payload too high. None of this…”

As if he’d teleported to her side, V’kyrri gripped her shoulder, his fingers too tight. Show me.

Edie replayed the data for him.

He let her hear the breath he sucked in through his teeth. “Break off. Do not engage.” He sprinted away.

“What?” she shrilled. “I can’t just…”

“All channels, all channels, all channels,” V’kyrri said. “It’s plague. The Chekydran are seeding plague. Do not engage. Destroying the bombers disperses the disease. Take shelter. Institute quarantine immediately.”

Edie gaped and twisted to stare at him. “They’ll spread disease whether I blow them up or not?”

Misery weighted the shadows of his face. “Yes. Get us out of here. Nearest beacon you can hack and repurpose to broadcast a quarantine notice and distress call.”

Edie sheered out of atmosphere. Look at her. Obeying orders from a Claugh without question.

She snuck a glance at him, hunched over the com panel. His shoulders rode high. Tension stood out in the taut muscles of his back. He cared about her people. He’d earned the right to act as equal partner aboard her boat.

If it was a beacon he wanted, a beacon she’d get him.

After several minutes, her bio-mesh buzzed. “Lunar beacon.”

Edie slowed, eased close, and brought her ship to station keeping beside the buoy. “If it’s been powered down, it’ll take a spacewalk to get the thing online and a connection made.”

“Why wouldn’t you just code them on or off?”

She met his eye. “They aren’t supposed to be off at all. If they need major maintenance, they send someone in an exo-atmospheric suit and three branches of government have to agree.”

“Just the regional governor has to approve,” V’kyrri corrected. “The empire streamlined a little red-tape.”

A thump against her left thumb brought her attention back. She blew out a shaky breath. “We’re in business. Hard connect in 3, 2, 1, mark. Going fishing for who shut these off.”

“Could have been the bugs.”

“Would have fired alerts on world. This shut down had to come from someone with the government codes. The governor or someone close. Unless the Claugh streamlined that, too.”

“Not to my knowledge. Messages going in.”

Vibration like bugs on her skin walked her spine. “Ship incoming. Not Chekydran.”

“Almost done,” V’kyrri said.

“Edie. There you are,” her display read. “I knew you’d come. Do you have any idea how many credits your death is worth?”

“Baxt’k.”

“What?”

“Assassin,” she snapped.

“Weapons?”

“Oh sure. I can fire at him and rip away half the beacon while I do. Damn it. The governor’s code shut down the beacon. Are you clear, yet?”

“Almost.”

“Eeeeeediee. I know you see me.”

“Spawn of a Myallki bitch.” She switched on the com. “Immin? How the Three Hells did you find me?”

“Poor Edie. You were always a sucker for a hard luck case. First a pathetic bounty for miners turned rapists. Only you’d work for so few credits. And look. The Chekydran are attacking home sweet home. Still trying to right all the wrongs of the known galaxy?”

Her breath froze. How had he known anything at all about her home? “Damn, Immin. Got any Rylleian firewater on board? I owe you a drink for alerting me to that tell.”

“Not how that works, sweetheart. I could use a drink, but I’m fresh out, and TFC cut the purse strings.”

“You know this assassin?”

She closed the com. “Former coworker. Contractor. Brought in on rare occasions for specialty work. Stable as a three-legged Orhait.”

“Can you trust him?”

“To start shooting the instant he’s done gloating? Absolutely. If you’re done with the beacon, I can defend us.”

“Yes.”

She issued the disconnect command and turned her audio back on. “Durgot’s gunning for you, too, you know.”

“His isn’t the only, or even the best, offer on the table,” Immin said. "You do know how to make enemies. I’m considering an auction.”

“Who?”

“Isn’t it delicious when your past reaches out to swallow you?”

A chill walked her gut. Which past? Working for Intcom? Or her past as Firestorm? “Who, Immin?”

“I see you’re running with weapons hot. Tough day at the office, Edie, or out for a pleasure cruise in Chekydran-infested space? You get there’s nothing personal, right? I mean. I have needs and no credits. I like you, Edie. I really do, but—”

“You have Ykktyryk collections agents to pay,” she finished for him. Unpleasant vibration tickled up her spine again. “Sad song, Immin. Oh, hey. Speaking of someone who might want your hide mounted on his bulkhead after the Perrutan Cloud Base incident…”

Immin swore in his native language. Her display panel fed her a series of nonsense bytes.

An enormous blade of a ship arced over the top of t’Achreides-myn. Identifiers she didn’t need blinked on Edie’s screen. She blanked it.

“This is bad,” she muttered.

Immin turned tail and ran.

As if magnetically attracted, V’kyrri walked to the view screen, canting his head to follow the arc of the much bigger Erillian Aggressor.

“I know that ship,” V’kyrri said.

Yes. He did. She knew he knew because she’d been on that ship the last time he’d encountered it.

“A friend and I diverted to handle an emergency,” he said by way of explanation. “We were not the only responders.”

Edie chewed a bitter laugh she didn’t dare voice. He and she had come close to having to kill one another during the race to pick up Jayleia Durante after her father had disappeared a few short weeks ago.

V’kyrri and his friend had beaten them to Jayleia.

She’d lay odds that his friend had been Damen Sindrivik, the man she’d later found in Jayleia’s company on Silver City. Edie shook away speculation and focused on the Erillian.

Rhydian Trente, captain of the ship, had no good reason to ride to her rescue. Which could only mean he hadn’t. He’d come for the bounty, too.

“Another friend of yours?” V’kyrri asked.

“Remains to be seen,” she said.

“Immin’s headed out of system. You’re clear. Prepare for incoming teleport.” The words appeared on her screen. Trente. Telling her to lower her shields. Must have tagged her without audio. V’kyrri didn’t tense or shift an iota. Trente wasn’t taking the chance that her passenger would overhear.

Great. He was hyped up on full-blown paranoia and asking her to give up her defenses. She glanced at the too-thin man in a khaki uniform standing at her view screen. Maybe he had reason.

“It’s not the best time for a visit,” Edie wrote back.

“Especially when you’re hacking a distress call into a beacon because the Chekydran are trying to wipe out your home world, Firestorm. I’m guessing you’ll want a pair of Ioccal IX boosters before you head dirt-side. We both know you’re going down there. You won’t be able to help yourself.”

She bared her teeth at his use of the name he wasn’t supposed to know while relief blew through her at the same time. “You stole extra doses when Intcom vaxxed us? Damn, you’re good. You’re assuming that’s what they seeded.”

“They haven’t changed pattern yet,” he replied. “They hit a troop depot last month. Confirmed Ioccal IX. You know, I’d expected Firestorm to be a diva. You weren’t. That’s the only reason I’m not really pissed off that I hadn’t figured it out before Durgot outed you.”

Edie frowned. He hadn’t had to tell her who’d exposed her. But he had, and Trente did nothing without reason. For a man after a bounty, he sure was collecting favors-owed from her.

Calculated risk, then. He’d either vaporize t’Achreides-myn, or he’d teleport in meds. Nothing she could do, either way. He’d dice her to atoms before she’d have her main gun at fifty percent. She killed her shields.

At least she wouldn’t have to tell Trente to watch where he put the goods. He’d obviously read everything about her ship. He’d know how many people were aboard before he’d ever considered messaging her. He probably knew before they did where they were going to be standing.

From the way V’kyrri whirled to stare at the center of the cockpit, Edie gathered that incoming teleportation made noise.

A palm-sized box materialized in the middle of her deck plating.

“Cargo arrived intact. What’s it going to cost me?”

“We’re even.”

There it was.

Because Edie had helped him when she hadn’t had to, Trente owed her. He couldn’t hunt her. Mercenary code of honor. Now that he’d returned the favor in the shape of vaccinations that would let her and V’kyrri get on world and not die from a hemorrhagic disease, all bets would be off.

The next time they met, he wouldn’t have to hesitate.

She sucked in a deep breath and let it go. “Message received and understood. We’re even. What brings you to this system in time to save my ass?”

“Looking after my interests.”

“What interests?”

“None of your business.”

She rolled her eyes. “Then you’ll want to know the bugs got tentacles on a new weapon.”

No answer. Not that he owed her one. But she’d thought maybe Trente had seen the same things she had over the past decade and come to the same conclusion—that no matter their personal issues with the Claugh, until the Chekydran were neutralized, humanoids the known galaxy over were targets.

Including her and Trente.

The Claugh were their best hope of fighting back.

“Good luck getting it back now that there’s plague on world. Immin will come after you until you kill him. Either pop him or stay clear so the Ykktyryk can find him and snap him in half. Stop leading him on. S’long, Edie.” Trente flashed out.

“Is this what I think it is?” V’kyrri had the little case open. He stared at a pair of dosing units.

Edie blanked her screen and climbed out of the cocoon. “Ioccal IX boosters.”

“Meaning you’ve already been vaccinated.” He canted a penetrating look her way. “You weren’t just a mercenary for Intcom.”

“You’re not just a pretty face.”

A feral grin lit his expression. “Let’s go find that crystal.”

“You’ll do better without me. Leave me here to coordinate.”

He gave her a look and popped the vaccine into her arm. “Chekydran,” he said, staring her in the eye. “Can you forget the past and lock on right now?”

“The past that was just out there gunning for me? Or the one that teleported over a pair of Ioccal IX boosters?” she flicked a finger at the view screen.

“Edie.”

“This isn’t about carrying a grudge,” she said. “No one on planet will be happy to see me, and if you’re in my company—”

“You’ve changed in ten years,” he pointed out. “You’re treating Nol Jakze as if it hasn’t.”

That jolted her.

He was right.

In her head, her home world had gotten stuck in time the moment she’d left it. Intellectually, she could acknowledge things had changed in a decade, but when she pictured any aspect of Nol Jakze, it was exactly as she’d left it. Old arguments and disagreements never shifted or evaporated, maybe because she’d kept them alive when they should have been allowed to pass on in peace.

Who was to say that once she’d left world she hadn’t been forgotten? If her people had embraced peace at any cost, then she’d wasted a decade of emotional space believing she was hated.

Edie sighed. Had she always been self-absorbed?

Pressing her lips tight, she returned to her sling and aimed her nose for a home that had nothing for her but suffering and death. Just like when she’d left it.

Who said you couldn’t go home again?