CassaStorm (33 page)

The soft blue lights of the alien corridor came as a relief after the glaring sun. Byron’s eyes struggled to adjust to the gentle glow. Relying on the sound of the Vindicarn’s boots striking the floor, he guided Bassan to the right. The man’s form loomed not far ahead of them.

Same layout as our alien ship
, Byron thought to Bassan, giving his shoulders a squeeze.

On the other side of Bassan, the Rogue kept pace with them. Byron was surprised Piten had given no indication of interest or amazement since exiting the shuttle. If he lived on the fringes of civilization, the Rogue had probably seen as many wonders as Byron during his years of exploration. However, when they followed the Vindicarn into the main control room, Piten’s stoic expression melted.

Byron cast a quick glance at the plasma ball and its surroundings. They were similar to the Tgren’s ship. However, he was more interested in the group gathered around the main console. Several Vindicarn dotted the room, their weapons at the ready. He ignored them and followed their guide, his grip on Bassan strong. Maintaining a neutral expression, Byron approached the group.

The Vindicarn in the middle stepped forward and he at once recognized Cherzta. Attired in a dark red military suit adorned with numerous medals, the man’s lean frame towered even over Piten. His black eyes and dark scowl were more imposing in person. The air surrounding Cherzta suggested he knew no mercy. Byron clenched his teeth and shielded his mind. He had to maintain his cool.

The soldier who’d led them into the ship paused to confer with the Vindicarn leader. He stepped aside and gestured toward the Cassans.

“So you are the one with the code?” Cherzta said, his gaze on Bassan. The man’s words dripped with hatred and Byron felt his son’s arm around his back as Bassan pressed closer.

“Yes, sir,” his son said, his voice trembling as much as his body.

Cherzta approached, his hands behind his back. Byron held his ground even as those around the Vindicarn leader raised their weapons.

He needs that code. He won’t hurt you,
Byron thought to Bassan.
And I won’t let him.

Pausing in front of them, Cherzta scowled at Bassan before raising his gaze to Byron. A glint of recognition flashed in the man’s eyes, but Byron suspected it had nothing to do with their previous encounter.

“You would so bravely bring your son here, where no Cassan has ever dared to tread?” the Vindicarn said. “I wonder what would motivate a Cassan to make such a sacrifice?”

“We are here to save the remaining races,” said Byron.

“Including ours? I find that hard to believe coming from a Cassan.”

Fighting the conflicting thoughts in his head, Byron swallowed before answering. “We all signed the peace treaty.”

The man’s lips pulled back in an unnatural sneer. “And I still question the implication our races have anything in common. You might share traits with the backward Tgrens, but Cassans have nothing in common with the Vindicarn,” Cherzta stated.

“The races have more in common than you imagine.”

At the sound of Piten’s voice, Cherzta jerked his head. Byron shot a word of warning to the pilot but his thoughts couldn’t penetrate the pilot’s shields. The Rogue stepped forward from the shadows and stood beside Bassan. The Vindicarn recoiled, his face twisted with shock.

“A Vindicarn who would side with the Cassans?” he spat in disgust.

“I am half Vindicarn and half Cassan,” said Piten with no trace of apology, “and my allegiance lies with my own people.”

“Your people?”

“The Rogue. What some have now deemed the eleventh race.”

Cherzta bristled at that answer. Concerned, Byron glanced at Piten and willed the man to hold his tongue. The Rogue’s example was supposed improve relations, not agitate the Vindicarn further.

Trust me.

Byron held Bassan closer. Their lives and the future of the races now relied on one Rogue who might very well possess his own agenda. Never had Byron felt so out of control.

“A few half-breed monstrosities doesn’t mean the races are compatible,” Cherzta said, flicking his hand in dismissal.

“No,” said Piten, “but ten thousand multiracial Rogues is significant.”

The Vindicarn moved closer to Piten. “Ten thousand? That is impossible!”

The Rogue stood even taller, his arms taut at his sides. “We are there, on the fringes of your society, existing on neglected space stations and moon bases, taking up residence on planets no one wants. There are thousands of us, representing every race and every mixture imaginable. My own mate claims a heritage of Arellen and Narcon. I can show you if you don’t believe me.”

Cherzta took a step back. Two men with weapons moved closer, their guns aimed at Piten’s head. Byron pulled Bassan behind him. If tempers continued to flare, his son didn’t need to witness the Rogue’s death.

“You can continue this path of hatred,” said Piten, his tone somber. “You can deny the chance to save your world because it comes from a Cassan and his half-breed son. In doing so, you will condemn all races to die. And once the probe has reduced your numbers to a fraction of what they were before, then you will see us. You will see the thousands of Rogues who have lived at peace with one another for generations. Maybe then you will realize–all of you will realize–that coexistence is not only possible, but necessary for survival.”

Byron’s gaze shifted to Cherzta. He held his breath, waiting for the Vindicarn to respond. In the back of his mind, Athee lingered in fear. The probe was approaching and they were running out of time.

Piten shook his head and gestured toward Byron and Bassan. “This Cassan and his son risked everything to come here. They came to save your people. That is the ultimate gesture of peace.”

Still Cherzta didn’t respond. One of his men moved closer to whisper into his ear. He pointed at the large computer tablet in his hand, his movements frantic.

Byron!
Athee’s voice rang in his head.
Mevine says the probe has arrived. You must get Bassan into place now
.

Pulling his son forward, Byron gripped his shoulders. “Let us upload the code,” he said. “Let us fulfill our end of the bargain.”

The weapons trained on Piten shifted to Byron. He kept his attention on Cherzta, hoping for a sign. If they’d come all this way for nothing…

“Please, sir,” said Bassan. His voice cracked and Byron felt his son’s frame shiver. “Please, I don’t want anyone to die.”

The Vindicarn stared at Bassan, his eyes cold. Uttering a growl of disgust, Cherzta gestured toward the main console.

Pushing Bassan from behind, Byron propelled them to the main computer. The crescent-shaped apparatus glowed with energy. Every light and display radiated power, including the metallic ball at the base. Byron grasped his son’s right hand and held it up.

The Vindicarn with the computer tablet appeared at his side. “You are to transmit the code as soon as the probe makes contact. I’ll give you the signal.”

Byron nodded. Interweaving his fingers with Bassan’s, he held his son’s hand tight. Wrapping his arm around Bassan’s middle, he pressed his cheek against his son’s and closed his eyes.

One last time,
he thought, pouring every ounce of reassurance into Bassan.
I’ll be right here with you. We’ll do it together, all right?

All right,
Bassan thought. His fear subsided, replaced by determination.
I won’t let you down.

Byron sighed and kissed his son’s cheek.
You’ve never let me down. And I love you so much.

Relief and joy flooded his son’s thoughts. Byron’s chest tightened as Bassan reciprocated his affection with no inhibitions. All his son had ever wanted was to know his father approved of him. His complete surrender to what was about to occur tore at Byron’s heart. If it took Bassan’s life…

A noise from the console forced Byron to open his eyes. The display screen flashed data at an astounding rate, pulsating brighter by the second.

Byron, the probe is transmitting now!
Athee thought.

Holding his son’s hand over the metallic ball, he held his breath. The images flashing across the screen came to an abrupt end.

“Now!” the Vindicarn shouted.

Together!
Byron thought.

He pressed his son’s hand around the metallic receptacle. The images haunting Bassan for the past few weeks erupted from his mind. Locked with his son’s thoughts, Byron closed his eyes against the brilliance. The code raced through Bassan with a ferocious roar, drowning out all sound. Byron felt, rather than heard, his son’s excruciating cry of pain as it vibrated through his body. Squeezing his eyelids tighter, Byron pressed harder on Bassan’s hand. They had to maintain contact. Despite the agony, his son had to deliver the full code.

Almost done!
Byron thought, fighting through the onslaught to reach his son.

As abruptly as it began, the stream of images ceased. Byron gasped and opened his eyes.

Mevine says the probe received the code!
thought Athee.

Bassan’s body was limp against his, though. Byron touched his mind and sensed nothing.

Byron!

Athee’s terrified cry fueled his own fear. Releasing his son’s hand, Byron let Bassan’s body drop into his arms. Placing a hand on his chest, Byron felt for a heartbeat. It was there, although very faint. But his son’s mind registered no activity. And they were far from the mental healing power of the Tgrens.

No!
thought Athee.

Rising with Bassan in his arms, Byron stumbled away from the console. He pushed past several Vindicarn, ignoring the shouts in his ears. Someone grabbed his arm and he tried to shake free. The person proved stronger and forced Byron to his knees. Pulling Bassan’s lifeless body closer, he cradled his son and uttered a sob.

“Byron!”

Looking up, he discovered the Rogue kneeling beside them. He touched Bassan’s head.

“He’s not gone,” Piten said. The Rogue met Byron’s gaze, his eyes intense. “I can reach him. Do you trust me?”

Byron stared at him a moment before the implication took hold. Piten could heal minds. He tightened his grip on Bassan and nodded.

Piten closed his eyes. Byron watched his son’s face, hoping for a sign. Athee’s wails pounded at his heart, repeatedly striking his chest with force. He’d promised her they would return. Byron had promised his son he’d be all right…

A spark ignited within Bassan’s head. The boy’s mind sprang to life and his body jolted from the effort. His son cried out and opened his eyes.

I’m right here,
Byron thought.

Tears filled his son’s eyes and his hands clutched at Byron’s chest. Athee’s cry of joy rang loud in his head and Byron seconded her response. His son was alive. Closing his eyes, he held Bassan close.

I’m right here
, he thought.
And I’m so proud of you.

He cradled his son until Bassan’s sobs subsided. Byron opened his eyes and turned to Piten.

“Thank you,” he said. Words weren’t enough, but it was all Byron had in him at the moment.

The Rogue smiled. The gesture broadened his face, revealing Piten’s more Cassan features. At that moment, it didn’t matter his race. The man had saved Byron’s son.

His attention no longer focused solely on Bassan, Byron grew aware of their surroundings. Beyond Piten, Cherzta watched them. Byron stared at the Vindicarn with concern. The Rogue altered his position and gazed at Cherzta as well. The man was no longer scowling and appeared to be studying them. Byron adjusted his hold on Bassan, determined to protect his son if necessary.

Mumbling, Cherzta stepped up to the console. The other man held up his computer and the Vindicarn leader punched in a code. Cherzta held his hand over the metallic ball. He froze for a second, and then pressed his hand into place. Byron breathed a sigh of relief.

Five have connected
, Athee thought, her mental voice still shaky.

Come on, thought Byron. We need all eight.

Six,
she thought.
Seven.

One more, thought Byron. Who was holding out?

Eight! No, wait.

Byron glanced at the Rogue. Piten cocked his head in puzzlement.

All ten!
Athee thought in triumph.
The Arellens and Torbeth participated even though it wasn’t required. Their leaders must’ve returned to the alien crafts by jumping a small ship into the hull. Byron, all ten races have sent their commitment of peace to the probe!

Byron uttered a soft bark of laughter. “All ten races sent the message,” he said to Piten.

The Rogue grinned and patted his shoulder. Byron eased his hold on Bassan and brushed the boy’s damp cheeks with his fingers.

You did it
, he thought.
It’s all over now. No more nightmares.

Did it stop the probe?
thought Bassan.

The leaders just sent their response. We’ll know in a moment.

A loud pop echoed throughout the room. Byron looked up just as everything went black. Shouts came from several directions and Cherzta’s voice rose above the confusion, barking orders to his men. Byron held Bassan close and felt a hand on his shoulder.

A gentle whoosh preceded the appearance of a ring of blue lights, similar to those in the ship’s corridors, circling the room. It provided a soft ambient light that bathed the control room. Byron glanced to his left. Piten’s hand rested on his shoulder.

What is happening?
he thought to Athee.

Mevine is working on it!

A startled cry caught Byron’s attention. Those around the console backed away as the entire unit came to life with pulsating lights. Images flashed on the screen at a pace faster than the images that had haunted Bassan for weeks. In an instant, the room flooded with lights as the ship roared to life.

Mevine says all systems are coming back online. He says the command module was wiped clean and is reprogramming itself
, thought Athee.
It worked!