CassaStorm (6 page)

Enteller’s statement confirmed Byron’s suspicions. Disgusted with the situation, he crossed his arms. Diplomacy was not his strong suit. His leadership skills and familiarity with Tgren had secured him the position of commander. Moments such as these reminded him why he preferred the cockpit of a Cosbolt.

They are scared,
Athee thought, her words intended for him alone.

Not scared enough.

“Commander Byron?”

Turning to the speaker, Byron recognized the prefect from the city closest to Ktren. The man was several years younger than the others and the most open minded of the group. Byron had often wished he dealt with Ubarce rather than the obstinate Enteller.

The young prefect leaned forward. “What must we do to protect Tgren?”

Feeling calmer, Byron uncrossed his arms and reached for his computer tablet. “The Cassan High Command wishes to know if you are joining the alliance. If so, they are willing to bargain not only for the protection of Tgren but the training of your pilots in Cassan ships.”

“Our pilots in your space ships?” someone exclaimed with a bark of laughter.

Prefect Ubarce turned toward the offender. “It wouldn’t be the first time!” he said, pointing at Athee. “We haven’t ventured into space yet, but our pilots and aircraft have made great strides over the past twenty years. With the proper training, our men could learn.”

“Would there be enough time?” a man to Byron’s left said, his voice as thin and weedy as his body.

“Proper training requires years,” Byron admitted, “but we could have your best pilots ready to go within a month or two.”

“Well, unless I’ve misinterpreted the situation,” began Anchore, “we don’t have a month. That makes your offer meaningless.”

Grinding his teeth, Byron stared hard at the old prefect. To his right, his squadron commander shifted in his seat. His mate’s frustrations reverberated in his head. They weren’t getting anywhere.

“Unless anyone has something to add, I think it’s time we took a vote,” said Enteller, rising to his feet. “All those in favor of supporting the Cassans with occupation of Tgren and the continued harvest of letrellium but not declaring open war on their enemies, give your consent with a show of hands.”

Nearly every hand went up. Perspiration formed on his skin as Byron’s anger began to boil. They were all ignorant fools.

“All those opposed?”

It was a small consolation that three hands shot into the air, including Prefect Ubarce’s. Twenty-two to three meant no formal declaration of war, though. It also confirmed that the Tgrens were truly oblivious to the danger their planet faced.

“Commander Byron,” said Prefect Enteller, his lips revealing a smug satisfaction with the outcome, “please inform your High Command of our decision. We will not actively take part in this war.”

Too angry to speak, Byron nodded. Snatching his computer tablet from the table, he rose to his feet and shoved aside his chair. Without waiting for his squadron commander or Athee, he strode from the counsel room. He glanced at Prefect Ubarce in passing and noted the man’s distraught expression.

Your people will regret this path,
he thought in a private message to the prefect.

He didn’t wait for an answer. His boots striking the stone surface with force, Byron exited the council chambers. He wanted to place distance between himself and the idiots that governed this world.

Sir, they’re making a mistake
, thought Hurend. His senior squadron commander caught up to Byron just outside the room.
Despite our treaty with the Tgrens and the supply of letrellium, High Command still might decide to remove us.

The prefects are too caught up in their own world to comprehend the dangers beyond this planet
, thought Byron, casting a disgusted look at Hurend.

High Command will not like their answer.

I’m not going to enjoy sending it either.

Athee fell in step beside Byron.
We might be able to motivate Prefect Ubarce and a couple of the others to change their minds,
she thought.

They had reached the outer doors and Byron paused. Lips pressed together, he nodded at her.
Remain here and see what you can accomplish. Impart on Ubarce and the others the gravity of the situation. It’s in their best interests to formally side with our alliance.

Athee grasped his arm, her thin fingers pressing hard on his muscles.
Would they really remove everyone from the base?

It’s a possibility.

Even after all these years of working together?

If the situation grows desperate, that won’t matter to High Command.

Her hand dropped from his arm and Athee stared at him. The indignation in her thoughts matched the scowl on her face. His patience strained from the council meeting, Byron was in no mood to pacify his mate.

Athee! Nine of the ten races have declared war. Never in our history have the races aligned so decisively into two sides. With Tgren uncommitted, it sends the wrong message to High Command.

And what message is that?
she thought, chin raised in defiance.

If we’re not for you then we must be against you.

His words caused Athee to close her mind so tight it was as if she’d vanished. Only when consumed with anger did she employ her shields in that manner. Despite his annoyance with the situation, Byron didn’t like being locked out of her mind. The silence was a painful void in his head.

“Athee,” he said, his tone less harsh. “That is why it’s imperative you stay here and work on those prefects who might be able to sway the others. I won’t send a message to High Command until this evening. Give me something to work with, anything to indicate they might change their minds soon. Can you do that?”

Her shoulders relaxed and she offered a curt nod. “Yes, sir.” Her reply was cold, but her mental shields lowered.

Athee, I need your help if we are to save relations between our races and ultimately save Tgren,
he thought, hoping to pacify his mate.

I’ll do what I can.

Turning on her heels, she marched back in the direction of the counsel room. Confident his liaison officer would not leave until she extracted a positive response from several prefects, Byron pressed his hand on the outer door and flung it open.

I hope she returns with good news,
thought Hurend as they descended the stone steps.

So do I,
Byron thought. He glanced back at the state building.

Athee, bring me something that will pacify High Command, he thought, frustration adding weight to his frame. Anything so I can buy us more time to reason with these fools!

Jump!

The mountainside vanished, replaced with a view over the valley. Byron banked to the right in a tight arc, letting Athee guide him to his next target. He caught sight of Ktren, smoke curling from several locations. Shoving the image out of his mind, Byron focused on the Narconian fighter below them.

She visualized another enemy vessel crossing under the first and Byron decided to pursue both. Diving hard, he angled a little to the left. Firing once, he sheered the wing and sent the Narconian ship into a spin. With the fighter eliminated, he aimed at the target rising to meet him. He fired twice, rotating the Cosbolt in the process. A laser blast streaked by the canopy but missed its mark. Byron’s shots didn’t miss, though.

Continue diving
, Athee thought, sending him the image of an enemy ship on the tail of a Cosbolt.

Byron pushed the fighter even harder, swinging to the right to avoid colliding with another Cassan ship. A flash of blue below him provided visual contact. Gripping the throttle tighter, afraid the sweat pooling in his gloves would seep out through the pores, Byron pulled closer to the dart shaped fighter.

Hurry,
thought his navigator, visualizing two enemies descending upon them.

Jumping would be the only option. Byron held steady as laser fire streaked past the Cosbolt’s nose. Just two more seconds…

Firing at the Narconian, Byron had only a second to confirm a direct hit before Athee jumped the ship to safety.

They reappeared over the river snaking through Ktren’s valley. Byron questioned his navigator’s choice of location.

Assessing damage
, she thought, her mind divided.
Minor score across the main surface. We are fit to pursue those.

Byron caught the image of three Narconian ships about to cross the river up ahead. He stayed the course, clinging to the path of the flowing water. Just as the ships came into view, he yanked hard on the throttle. Firing multiple shots, Byron soared over the enemy vessels.

Two eliminated. No wait!
Athee thought.
The third just crashed. Excellent shot.

Excellent navigating
, Byron thought, pulling higher to assess the battle.

His six squadrons continued to fend off the Narcons. Byron received battle reports from three other Tgren cities, but his first priority was the fight over his own territory. Several Cosbolts were already down. His sector dealt primarily with a Narcon attack force. However, two of the Tgren cities were under siege from the Vindicarn. Byron could only imagine the causalities from the disrupter blasts.

We outnumber the Narcon now
, thought Athee, a hint of hope in her mental voice.

Let’s make sure they know that!

Arcing skyward, Byron set his sights on an enemy fighter. His navigator guided him as they leveled off behind the narrow craft. Firing once, Byron pulled up as the ship exploded, raining debris on the desert floor below.

“Enemy in full retreat!”

The voice on the com was Hurend’s.
I want confirmation! Squadrons Three and Four are to pursue,
Byron thought.

“Yes, sir!”

Athee…

All enemy ships are gaining altitude
, she thought.

Byron punched the buttons on his screen, determined to confirm the retreat with his own eyes. Less than a hundred Narconian ships rose from the planet’s surface. Two squadrons of Cosbolts pursued, firing at the enemy with reckless abandon. Turning his attention to the view outside the cockpit, Byron angled the Cosbolt to return to the base. So much damage to assess…

Enemy just jumped,
thought Athee.

About damn time.

He let Hurend retrieve the squadrons in pursuit. Byron needed to return to the surface. The Nacinta would want an update, as would High Command. Even more pressing was the tally of ships and lives lost today. Judging from the fires across Ktren, that total would depress him.

Bassan is all right.

Byron blinked, caught in the wave of relief from his mate. Now that the battle lay behind them, he could allow himself to feel again. Bassan’s safety lightened the load on his heart. Byron banked to the right and prepared to land, thankful he’d lost none of his family today.

Their Cosbolt taxied into the hangar, the first to return. Before it came to a stop, urgent voices began to assault his mind. Weary from battle, Byron suspected his endurance would be tested today.

Officer Mard, what is the damage to the base?
he thought, responding first to the senior officer of base security.

Minimal, sir. Most of the damage is from downed fighters.

No direct strikes?

No, sir. It appears Ktren did not fare so well though. Numerous strikes across the city have been reported.

I want the damage to the Tgren city assessed, as well as any damage to the base,
Byron thought.
Prepare medical for incoming wounded and send a team to Ktren.

Yes, sir!

Powering down the Cosbolt, Byron opened the canopy. He took a deep breath before hauling himself out of the cockpit. The hangar crew pushed a platform into position and he swung his legs over the side of the ship.

I need you in Ktren
, he thought to Athee, reaching out to steady his mate as her feet hit the steel platform. She nodded, wobbling a moment before gaining her balance.

Byron slid down the ladder and assisted Athee to the hangar floor. He could hear the echo in her mind of Tgren voices even as several officers requested his attention. With so much to focus on, he tuned out her thoughts. He reached out to Officer Hurend to confirm the return of Cosbolts to the base and a damage report.

A sudden cry from Athee stopped him in his tracks. He turned, struck by the anguish in her mind. Athee’s head was down, a hand across her forehead.

Athee?
he thought.

My uncle!

He didn’t require an explanation. Images of a leveled section of Ktren flashed in his mind. Emanating from Istaner, Athee’s cousin, they revealed a frantic search for the former prefect of Ktren. Byron’s stomach twisted as if it were collapsing. Orellen meant so much to both of them.

Returning to her side, he wrapped his arms around Athee. Ignoring the persistent voices in his head, Byron focused all of his mental energy on comforting his mate. They were pressed for time, but this might be the last moment they shared until tonight.

They will find him. Alive
, he thought. Easing his hold, Byron placed a hand alongside her face and tilted Athee’s head. Damp eyes met his, although no tears had fallen yet.

We still have a job to do. Can you manage?

Athee nodded, and her neck twitched from a nervous swallow. Sensing resolve in her mind, Byron released her. She straightened her shoulders and stood to her full height.

Let’s get to it then,
Byron thought.
And keep me posted. On all accounts.

He waited until they were clear of the hangar and Athee on her way before responding to calls for his attention. Prefect Enteller’s rose above the others, frantic in its pitch.