Chapter 16

Lorran:

“The Suhlik patrol near the planet, but they do not enter orbit,” Lorran said, staring at the screen. Green squares glowed on an ancient screen. The squares were meant to represent ships, but they could be anything. “This behavior is most unusual. Suhlik do not hang about. They must detect our energy signature, yet why do they not come to the surface? Also, unusual. Could the scanners be faulty?”

“I agree. I doubt the scanners are working correctly,” Mylomon said.

Lorran considered the equipment in the comm center. Half of the machines were not operational. They had no way to know if this scanner was correct or just showing a random pattern of green blips on a screen.

“The shuttle’s scanners are not ideal, but we could take it into a low orbit,” he said.

If there was no Suhlik patrol, they could leave immediately. The quicker they left this empty planet, the better. However, his proposition was not without risk. He recalled too vividly the panic he felt when his mate had been knocked to the ground while hunting.

No. He could not put his mate in a potentially dangerous situation.

“If we are wrong, the shuttle would be exposed and defenseless against an attack,” Lorran said. Then, “This equipment must be operational. Caldar was waiting for us upon our arrival.”

“True.” Mylomon rubbed his chin. “False readings, then, to keep us in place. We have questions to ask Saavi. There is no need to delay.”

* * *

They found Saavi in the kitchen storerooms, sorting through fuel tanks to find usable canisters.

“Female,” Mylomon started. Saavi’s back went rigid. “We must have a frank discussion about your mate’s research.”

The female touched each canister, as if counting. “Nothing revolutionary. Basic stellar cartography. We’re updating the charts.”

“Seems a boring post for a male as accomplished as Ulrik,” Lorran said, because nothing sounded more dull than stellar cartography.

“Ulrik did not always agree with the Council. They thought a cycle out here would give him time to consider his wrong. This was a punishment.” She tapped a cannister. “Can you carry this? I will carry the other.”

Mylomon stared down at the canister in his arms, having perfected the broody lone warrior look. “This is unnecessary. We return to the Judgment today.”

“The Suhlik have retreated?”

“The scanners have been altered. Their readings are false, but that is not new information to you,” Lorran said.

To her credit, Saavi did not protest her innocence or make denials. She blinked, as if bored. “Fine. This is thirsty work. I will have tea, and you may ask your questions.”

In the kitchen, the female busied herself preparing the tea and carried a false smile along with a tray laden with cups and a teapot. She set her burden down on the table.

She served the tea. Lorran accepted his cup but did not drink. A bitter, fruity aroma wafted upward, like fermented fruit. It reminded him too much of warm summer days in his parents’ vineyard, an atrociously strong brew.

Mylomon simply stared at his cup.

Lorran set the eggshell fragment on the table. “We know your research was not stellar cartography.”

She sniffed. “And you waited until now to ask?”

“This one allowed himself to be distracted,” Mylomon said, with a nod in Lorran’s direction.

“Newly mated males can’t be expected to do anything. Ulrik…” She let her voice drift away, as if overcome with grief.

Doubt crept into Lorran’s mind. If Saavi was still in the depths of her grief, it was heartless of them to question her so harshly.

“I have not been distracted. I have spent my time exploring this base. It has been most illuminating,” Mylomon said.

She pressed her lips together, eyes flashing as if annoyed.

“The condition of this abandoned base is remarkable. Nonperishable foodstuffs. Working power and utilities. Smugglers have been using this base,” Mylomon said.

“I’ve never been here before. I don’t know anything about that,” she said.

“How fortunate for you it was near your ship when you were forced to leave.”

“Fortunate? My son lost his father. I lost my data. I lost my specimens. There is no point in continuing my research.”

“Yes, let us discuss your specimens.” Mylomon leaned forward, and Lorran did not know how, but he swore the shadows shifted with the male. “You are aware that research on viable Suhlik young is a crime against sentient beings and punishable by the Council, which is why your mate was so far on the fringes of Sangrin territory.”

“They do worse to us.” She refilled her cup, taking extra time to fuss with adding sweetener and a spoonful of powdered milk. “I’ve heard rumors about a shadowy warrior with no name and no clan. A foundling with unusual abilities.”

“I have a name, and I have a clan,” Mylomon said in a flat tone.

“It seems that such a male would find our research relevant. Very relevant.”

“You would be incorrect. How did your mate acquire the eggs? Did he discover a hatchery or someone so craven as to sell them? Did Ulrik think his research would not bring the Suhlik’s wrath upon him? Who funded Ulrik’s research?”

“Ulrik’s research, Ulrik’s research,” Saavi said in a mocking tone. She slapped her hand against the table, rattling the cups. “Our research! Do not erase my contributions because I am female. We worked on it together, and I intend to continue.”

She had a hard gleam in her eyes. Lorran had seen it before on the previous warlord, Omas, before he had been challenged by Paax.

Obsession, dangerous and without reason.

“Is the Council funding you?” Lorran asked. Could it be his father knew of such crimes? He wanted to believe his father was a good male, that he would not fund crimes against sentient beings, even the Suhlik, but Oran was one of the few proactive Council members.

“Those craven old males…” Saavi said. She drained her cup and set it down on the table with more force than necessary. “No. The Council did not give us funding. Our donor is generous but insists on remaining anonymous.”

“You must have a means of contacting them,” Lorran said.

“Encrypted messages. The donor contacts us.”

“The hard drives destroyed on the ship…”

“Old messages. I needed to quickly destroy our navigational history,” she said.

“Tell us who supplied the eggs,” Mylomon interrupted, “or are they an anonymous donor, as well?”

“I supplied the eggs.” Caldar stood in the doorway. He sauntered over to the table and picked up Saavi’s mug, sniffing the tea. “Saavi…you know that poison does not work on a Mahdfel.”

“Poison?” Lorran stood abruptly, knocking his knees into the table.

Saavi sighed and reached into a pocket. She displayed a blue pill. “The antidote.” And swallowed the pill.

“Female, explain yourself,” Mylomon growled, his fingers gripping the dingy white cup tightly. Perhaps too tightly, as Lorran swore the male’s fingers sank into the cup.

“A new invasion is coming, warriors,” she said. “The Suhlik encroach on our territory. They build hatcheries in our territories. Must we cover our eyes and pretend that we do not see them? They raid and bomb as they please. They crush us under their heels because we are nothing but insects to them. Must we pretend we are thankful for their foot on our throats?”

Caldar took the cup from Mylomon’s hand, along with the rest of the poisoned tea, and dumped it into a sink. “A touch dramatic but accurate. I found a hatchery in Sangrin territory.”

“Why did you not inform the Council?” Lorran asked.

“What makes you think I did not?” He sounded so bored and condescending, like he needed a punch in the face to realign his attitude.

Lorran really did not like this male.

“Did your father not tell you?” That smirk. Yup, Lorran was going to punch Caldar in the face.

“Is my father the donor? Is he funding this atrocity?”

Caldar shook his head. “No. I informed the Council that I located a hatchery, but it had been abandoned. The Council told me they were not interested in old intelligence.”

“The eggs were not viable,” Mylomon said.

“Not in the slightest. Whatever engineering that Suhlik had done, it failed. The eggs I supplied to Ulrik and Saavi were rejects.”

“But still useful,” Saavi said. “We can study the modifications the Suhlik made and plan accordingly. These samples were particularly interesting. It seems they are trying to replicate a past success.” She stared at Mylomon, as if wanting him to inquire about the past successes.

He remained silent.

She sighed. “We can upgrade our biochemicals to better attack Suhlik genetic material. Discarded shells are useful.”

“Such material is still a crime,” Mylomon said.

Saavi waved a disinterested hand. “Your morality bores me.”

Lorran did not like this female either. “If the Suhlik had your son, you would not be so tolerant—”

“If the Suhlik had my son, he would be dead like my mate,” Saavi snapped. “Ulrik gave his life so that Mikah and I might escape.”

“Your research brought the Suhlik to your ship,” he replied.

“Are you so naïve that you believe they would have ignored a ship alone? They require no reason beyond slaughter.”

“They wanted revenge for what that one took from them.” He pointed to Caldar. “The lab with the incubators…some of the eggs were viable, were they not?”

Saavi shook her head. “No, none.”

He did not believe her. “When we return to Judgment, Paax will not let your crimes go unpunished. He will inform the Council.”

She huffed. “They will deny everything.”

“And then he will do as he sees fit. If you were Mahdfel, he would end your life for such a crime,” Lorran said. Paax’s judgment often ran harsh, but Lorran never believed the warlord to be unjustified in his actions.

Lorran glanced at Caldar. A slippery male, Paax had said. Caldar might dodge criminal charges from the Council, if they truly knew and if they had been secretly funding Ulrik, but he would not evade Paax.

Caldar’s posture changed, shifting from relaxed to defensive. Yes, the same thought occurred to him.

“I know of Paax’s research. I know what the hypocrite did to his own brother,” Saavi said. “He is not fit to judge me.”

True enough. Lorran did not understand the specifics of the research Paax conducted in the years before he became the warlord. He injected a serum into his twin, Omas, to save his life. Instead, it twisted Omas into a nearly unstoppable brute. Omas had been a good warlord until that point, but he turned bitter and violent, twisting the clan until he nearly destroyed it.

“It’s imprisonment for you, Saavi. I’m sorry. I’ll take the blame,” Caldar said.

“You cannot do that for me.” She lifted her chin. “And my son? Will this warlord make my son an orphan? What of him?”

“Training at the Academy or some other place will be found for him,” Mylomon said.

“You swear? Mikah is a good male. He should not be punished because of decisions his parents made.” Saavi held Mylomon’s gaze, unwavering, until the male nodded.

“I swear. Now, pack a bag. We are leaving within an hour.” Mylomon turned to Lorran. “Fetch your mate.”

* * *

That morning, Lorran divulged his intention to leave soon, possibly that day. To his relief, his mate had nearly finished packing when he arrived. Clothing littered the bed in neat piles and a messy heap. Wyn sat in the middle, folding.

“We are leaving,” he said. “Now.”

“I’m almost done.”

“Now,” he repeated, lifting the pink suitcase to the mattress. He stuffed her garments into the suitcase. “Prepare yourself. I will finish this.”

“Well, guess I have to wear pants today after all.” She grabbed a pair of trousers from the heap and dressed.

Within minutes, they were ready. Unease pricked along his neck. Something did not add up correctly between the scanner readings, Saavi’s confession, and Caldar’s relaxed posture. The slippery male had a plan, and Lorran knew that plan would only benefit Caldar.

“When we reach the shuttle, I want you in your armor,” he said. Then he set a plasma pistol down on the mattress. “And I want you to use this if the situation arises.”

“What’s happening? You’re worrying me.”

The overhead lights flickered, and the ground shuddered.

Wyn:

Not good. The earth moving any place other than bed was so not good.

Lorran grabbed her arm to steady her, but they continued to run. The suitcase dragged behind. The pistol, stuffed hastily into her waistband, dug into her side.

“Leave it,” he ordered.

Wyn hesitated. It was just stuff, clothes, and toiletries, but it was her connection to home.

The lights flickered.

She dropped the handle. “It’s just stuff,” she said, and she wouldn’t get herself killed over sentimental attachment to her shampoo, even if it did smell like sunshine and daisies.

By the time they arrived at the entrance, her sides were in stitches and she was gasping to catch her breath. She was so going to add cardio to her workout routine. Lorran’s morning yoga meditation was nice and all, but two days in a row now, she needed to run for her life so she should take the hint and start jogging. That she shouldn’t need to run for her life burrowed its way inside her mind, but there was fleeing to do. No time to think.

Saavi argued with Mylomon. “You cannot make me go! Your warlord will send me to prison. For what? Doing what he does not have the courage to do?”

“Female, you will come quietly, or you will be subdued.”

The ground shuddered again. Dirt rained down from the ceiling. The lights went out. This time, they did not flicker back to life.

Darkness surrounded them.

“Mom—” Mikah’s voice sounded so small and young.

Lorran gave her hand a comforting squeeze. “We are well.”

“Not true at all, but at least nothing is on fire.” As soon as she uttered those words, she wanted to claw them back, because it’d be just her luck if a fire broke out.

Caldar arrived with a lantern. The thin, yellow cast gave him a wan, otherworldly appearance.

Great, creepy ghost aliens.

“The Suhlik have discovered our location,” he said.

“Conveniently,” Mylomon muttered.

“There may be enough artillery for me to provide you cover. Hurry. You must reach your shuttle and depart.”

“What? Just run for it?” Wyn asked because that sounded like a terrible plan.

“Yes, female. There is no time.”

A loud snap, followed by muffled implosion, like the roof giving way. Wyn glanced up; she couldn’t see the ceiling, but at least chunks of concrete didn’t fall on her face.

“I am intrigued by the Suhlik’s timely arrival, just as we decide to depart,” Lorran said. “Perhaps they received a communication.”

Caldar stepped up to Lorran, chests nearly touching. Wyn did not imagine the growling. “I have battled the Suhlik longer than you have been alive, whelp. I am no traitor.”

“Indeed, your age is venerable. You have spent more years manipulating and scheming than I have spent in this universe.”

“Just because I choose not to answer to a warlord—”

“You do this for what? The greater good? Or your own good?”

“We do not have time for this,” Mylomon barked.

Lorran stepped back from Caldar. “Where is your ship?”

“I do not have a ship,” he said smoothly, but Lorran heard the small skip in his heartbeat.

“Lies,” Lorran said.

Mylomon grabbed the male by the back of the neck. “There are tunnels beneath this base, but only one is in good repair. I assume that tunnel will take us to your ship.”

“There is no ship. and you need a code to access the tunnels,” Caldar said.

“What is the code?” Mylomon tightened his grip and Caldar squeaked.

“I don’t know.”

His expression gave nothing away, but his heart skipped ever so slightly. More lies.

Mylomon said, “Wait for me outside the entrance to lower levels. This one will unlock the door for us.”

“You cannot make—”

Whatever the male intended to say, his words vanished as he and Mylomon sank down through the floor, leaving the lantern to cast a ghostly yellow light.