CassaStorm (28 page)

For kidnapping my son, you’ll have to prove yourself, he thought. I don’t give a damn if you’re one of the eleventh race or not.

Byron straightened his shoulders. “Clean this man up and place him in Cassan attire,” he said to the security guards. “He’ll be traveling with us to the Litheron under light security.”

“Yes, sir,” one of the officers answered.

Turning away, he gestured for Athee to lead the way out of the shuttle. Placing a hand on Bassan’s shoulder, he guided his son down the ramp and away from the ship.

“Athee, I need you to run home and gather clothing for us,” he said to his mate.

“But Bassan is hurt,” she said, pointing at his legs.

“Take him to medical first,” Byron said, not bothering to glance down. “Then get back here quickly. Prefect Ubarce is on his way. The senior officers still need to meet before I depart.”

Her face fell. She nodded and pulled Bassan close to her body. Byron grabbed her arm.

Athee, we are running out of time. Please, it’s necessary you’re with me on this.

Just give me a chance to say goodbye to my son.

Byron’s gaze dropped.
I promise, you will have time to say goodbye.

Wrapping her arms around Bassan, Athee guided him toward the exit closest to the medical facility. It was then Byron sensed her mind was closed. Athee never locked him out of her thoughts.

Hope you don’t lock me out the entire time we’re gone, he thought.

“Is everyone clear?”

Byron scanned the room. Heads nodded and the men voiced their confirmation.

“Remember, no one but authorized personnel in the alien craft,” he said, leaning against the table. “If we fail, then you may begin the evacuation of Ktren, Prefect Ireth. You’ll still have almost five days to accomplish that task.”

The man nodded, his eyes wide. Ktren’s new Prefect was young and ratified in haste after Enteller’s collapse. His rapid, jerky movements during the meeting revealed a man overwhelmed with the task before him. Orellen knew the man though, and he’d assured Byron that Ireth was capable. With the shuttle leaving soon, Byron had no choice but to trust the judgment of Athee’s uncle.

“Prefect Ubarce, I need you on the Doorthmore since it will carry the largest population of your people,” Byron said. “We’ll require someone else in a position of authority on the Nacinta as well.”

“Sir?” said Ireth, raising a finger. “One of the men on Ktren’s list is an experienced pilot and leader. The man knows how to take control of a situation.”

“Be sure Officers Hurend and Mard know his name,” said Byron. “We’re sticking to the current roster no matter what. Unless your need is pressing, all concerns and requests are to pass through Liaison Officer Athee. Should we fail to stop the alien ship, everyone will be very busy.”

He glanced at his mate. She didn’t appear happy with that arrangement, but Byron knew it would keep Athee occupied until they returned.

“You all have your orders,” he said with authority, straightening his back.

The men began to rise to their feet, the sound of their voices a low buzz in the room.

“Commander Byron!”

Ubarce’s words silenced all conversation. Byron inclined his head.

“Successful mission for you and your son, sir,” the Prefect said. “And a safe return.”

Everyone seconded the sentiment. Byron nodded in appreciation, his gaze drifting to Athee’s chair. His mate was no longer present though.

She just wants a few extra minutes with Bassan, he thought. However, he knew she was at odds with the decision, and with him.

Additional questions arose, delaying his departure. Mard followed him out of the room, clarifying last-minute details. Byron reiterated his instructions to increase security around the alien ship.

“I don’t want anyone sneaking inside and causing havoc,” he said as they entered the hangar.

“Yes, sir,” said Mard.

“And be sure to release Enteller before evacuating,” Byron added, recalling that the man still resided in their medical facility. “He is not getting a free ride on the Nacinta.”

His security officer offered a wicked smile. “With pleasure, sir. May your mission be a success.”

Mard stepped away. No longer focused on his security officer, Byron noticed Mevine had followed him into the hangar.

“Officer Mevine?” said Byron, gesturing for the man to walk with him. The science officer hustled to his side.

“Sir, I sent you instructions for uploading the code to the probe,” Mevine said, holding up his tablet. Byron glanced at the directions.

“Seems rather straightforward.”

“The key is the timing. The code needs to be in direct response to the probe’s transmission. Once it’s sent, a signal will go out to the remaining alien ships. Every race received the alien code for peace, which will be entered at that time, followed by a confirmation from all eight leaders.”

Byron’s shoulders tightened. “That’s a lot of people separated by a great distance who must coordinate together.”

Looking up from his computer pad, Mevine’s immense eyes revealed his concern. “Yes, sir. The leaders know the approximate time of arrival, though. As long as everyone is in place and the Vindicarn keep in communication, it will work.”

“They better, because we’ll all die if it doesn’t.”

They reached the shuttle, its engines purring and hatch open. Byron paused, the weight of uncertainty draining his spirit. He didn’t like the lack of control and strain this had placed on so many people.

“Sir?”

Byron turned his attention to Mevine. His science officer dropped the computer pad to his side and stared at the hangar floor. His drooping posture reminded Byron of the insecure young man he’d met twenty years ago.

“Sir, I’m sorry this had to involve your son,” said Mevine, his voice cracking. “I should’ve paid closer attention to the boys.”

“Mevine,” said Byron. Moving closer, he brought a hand down on the man’s shoulders. The science officer’s head jerked up.

“This isn’t your fault. I was angry earlier. But what appears a great misfortune and accident might just be the very thing that saves us.”

“There is just so much uncertainty. We don’t know what will happen when Bassan downloads the code. What it will do to him…”

“I’m afraid that’s a chance we have to take. If it’s within my power, nothing will happen to my son.”

Regret continued to drift from Mevine’s mind and he shifted his stance. “I just hate being responsible for placing you and your family in danger yet again.”

Byron laughed at the idea and Mevine’s mouth opened in surprise.

“I was good at placing myself in harm’s way long before I met you, my friend,” Byron said, patting his shoulder. “We’ll be all right.”

The science officer’s face broke into a smile. He stood straighter and his brows came together. “Sir, we can’t lose you.”

“Don’t worry, Mevine. I’ll be back to overwork you in five days’ time. You have my word.”

He sent the science officer on his way. As Mevine scooted across the hangar, two security officers approached with the Rogue pilot. Dressed in Cassan attire, the man’s appearance no longer exuded such a threatening vibe. Head high and shoulders squared, he strode across the hangar in between his guards with a quick step. The Rogue’s confident air did not sit well with Byron.

Byron placed himself at the base of the ramp, hands behind his back. The trio stopped before him, the security officers holding the Rogue’s arms. The man’s hands were still bound, his fingers interlaced and arms dangling in a relaxed pose. Byron frowned and took a deliberate step forward.

“These are the conditions,” he said. “You are confined to quarters on the Litheron and restricted from use of our computer system. Your sole purpose is to confirm the existence of the eleventh race. The Vindicarn may require medical tests to confirm this fact. If so, you will behave with respect toward the Vindicarn. If you step out of line, millions will die. Including many of your own people. Understood?”

“Yes,” Piten replied, his jaw set. His eyes did not reflect his somber tone.

Byron’s eyes narrowed. Taking a step closer, he placed his face close to the Rogue’s and stared hard at the man.

“You kidnapped my son. You made it personal. If you do anything to jeopardize this mission, I will end you,” he said in a low voice. “That flagship has no room for dead weight.”

The rebellious glow left Piten’s eyes. Satisfied his threat had achieved the desired result, Byron stepped off the ramp. The security officers escorted the Rogue into the shuttle and out of Byron’s sight.

The sound of footsteps behind him alerted Byron to Athee and Bassan’s arrival. He smiled at his son, pleased to see him in clothes that weren’t torn and dirty. Glancing at Athee, Byron was greeted with haunted eyes and a closed mind. She pulled the bag off her shoulder and held it out for Byron. The moment his hand clasped around the strap, Athee dropped to one knee in front of her son.

“You be good,” she said, one arm around him while her free hand stroked his hair. “You listen to your father and do what he says. And no wandering around the flagship by yourself.”

“Mother, I’ll behave, I promise,”

Athee kissed his cheek and gave Bassan a fierce hug. She rose to her feet with great effort and took a step back. Byron tried to reach her mind, but her shields continued to lock him out of her thoughts. Concerned, he touched her arm. Athee pulled free and took another step away from them. Her gaze met Byron’s for only a moment before she spun on her heels to leave.

Dropping the bag, Byron moved to intervene. They could not part under these conditions. He needed their connection over the next five days. Seizing her arm, Byron yanked Athee to him. Her hands raised in protest, pushing against his chest. Ignoring her objection, he wrapped his arms around his mate and held her fast.

“Athee,” he whispered in her ear.

She grew still and Byron stroked her hair. In a flash, her shields dissolved. A flood of painful emotions washed over him and he tightened his grip around her waist. Athee threw her arms around his neck and uttered a sob. With all barriers removed, the intensity of the moment caught Byron by surprise. His surroundings became secondary. Closing his eyes, he focused on his mate.

I can’t lose you,
she thought.
I can’t lose either of you!

You won’t.
No matter what happens, we’re both coming home. I promise.

When her nerves settled, Byron eased his hold so he could see her face. Athee wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand and took a deep breath.

Good to know you still have that fire I so admire,
he thought.

She offered a weak smile and dropped her gaze. Placing a finger under her chin, Byron forced Athee to look up. Without hesitation, he kissed her, unconcerned others might be watching. His duty resided with his title of commander, but his life and loyalty rested with his mate.

Pulling away, Byron gave her cheek a stroke before releasing Athee.
You’ll be with us the whole time.

I know.

Retrieving the bag, Byron placed a hand on Bassan’s back. Glancing one more time at Athee, she managed a faint smile and nodded. Her heart was still heavy but acceptance now colored her sorrow. His mate’s mind was open again; that mattered most to Byron. Guiding Bassan up the ramp, he entered the shuttle.

Byron glanced at Piten, seated near the rear of the craft. If the man’s friends planned a rescue, the ride to the Litheron would be the best opportunity. Byron sat at attention, his body tense as the shuttle lifted up and teleported. He watched the view change beyond the cockpit, counting the seconds as the ship glided toward the cavernous maw.

When the shuttle entered the flagship’s landing bay, his muscles eased. The Rogue’s only chance for escape vanished as the interior walls of the Litheron flew past.

Setting down in the main hangar, the shuttle came to rest. Byron released his harness before assisting his son. The security guards pulled Piten to his feet and he staggered off balance.

“Release his hands,” Byron told the officers.

“Sir?” questioned one of them.

“He will be confined to quarters and requires the use of his hands,” Byron explained.

The Rogue stared at him as the guard released the metal bonds. Byron detected curiosity and wondered if it would alter the man’s attitude. Too many unknown factors surrounded the Rogue. Bassan’s promise would test Byron’s tolerance levels the next few days.

The Litheron’s commander greeted them as they exited the craft.

“Commander Byron, welcome,” he said, hands at his side and back straight. “I am Commander Wraint. It is an honor to have you on our ship.”

His ready smile was at odds with his age, which Byron guessed to be a few more years than his own. The grey dusting his short hair and deep wrinkles around temples suggested years beyond the youthful gleam in his eyes. The man’s open and eager demeanor implied he knew Byron. Racking his brain, Byron tried to remember Wraint, but he couldn’t recall the man. At least it placed him in good standing for the duration of the trip.

The commander’s pleasant smiled faded, and Byron glanced over his shoulder. Piten walked down the ramp, his stride wary as he scanned the hangar. Turning to face Wraint, Byron paused. Every Cassan in his line of sight had ceased their activity to gawk at the Rogue. His Vindicarn heritage caused a stir, sending ripples of hatred their direction. Byron had sent word of his prisoner to the commander, but those gathered in the hangar only saw one thing. Piten was their enemy despite any peace treaty.

“Commander,” said Byron, taking control of the situation. “This man is to be confined to quarters and guarded at all times, for his safety and ours. He is needed as additional proof of the eleventh race once we reach the Vindicarn’s planet.”

Regaining his composure, Wraint nodded. “Secure quarters have been arranged. As have quarters on the senior officers’ level for you and your son.”

Bassan fell in step with Byron as the commander led them toward the exit. The boy stared in awe as the cavernous hangar, oblivious to the attention their group garnered as they moved across the room. Byron glanced over his shoulder and noted four security officers walked with Piten. Considering the reactions of those they passed, he hoped it would be enough.