CassaStorm (7 page)

Commander Byron, we need assistance!

Prefect, I have just returned to the surface,
he thought.
Medical and relief teams are on their way. In the meantime, I want you to contact the other prefects and arrange a meeting.

A meeting? Commander, our cities are in shambles from the attack! We don’t have time…

Prefect Enteller, arrange either a physical gathering on this base or a mental meeting by the evening meal, I don’t care which,
thought Byron, his strides growing longer. He was through treading with care around the prefect.
I have bought you all the time I can with High Command. Today was a direct attack against Tgren. If it has not convinced you of the necessity to declare your allegiance, then there’s little else I can do to help you.

There was a moment’s pause.
Commander, I will arrange a meeting of some sort.

Enteller sounded less than pleased, but Byron didn’t care. His rapid pace carried him around a corner and into the command center. Judging from the flurry of activity, he’d walked into total chaos. An officer noticed his appearance and at once approached Byron.

Let me know when to expect you,
he thought, ending his conversation with the prefect. Byron’s morning in the cockpit was only the beginning of a long day of battles.

Chapter Four

Noting an incoming message, Byron leaned forward and mashed the keypad. The inscription indicated it was a recording from High Command. The wrinkled face of the senior Chancellor of High Commander appeared on his screen.

“Commander Byron, we received your transmission confirming the Tgren’s declaration of allegiance with Cassa and our allies in this war. High Command accepts. Continue defending the planet and begin training the best Tgren pilots. All resources are to focus on those two objectives until further notice.”

The screen went black. Slumping in his chair, Byron closed his eyes. He’d hoped for that answer when he sent the transmission two hours ago. The meeting with the prefects had not taken long. Not with four Tgren cities recovering from enemy attack. Three of the men had tried to protest, almost causing Byron to abandon his resolve of restraint. Prefect Ubarce had taken over at that moment, calling the men cowards with no honor and inviting them to come view his decimated city. If the sight of Ktren’s destruction weren’t enough, the images Ubarce shared convinced them. A declaration of war against the Narcon and Vindicarn, and any race that sided with them, became a unanimous decision. Byron held a new respect for the young prefect.

I will try to visit your city tomorrow, he thought, running through his list of accumulating duties. Ubarce’s city housed the recovery facility for mentally damaged Cassans, and those numbers had tripled today, further taxing resources. At least he’d sent a medical team to help this afternoon.

His screen blinked again. This time it was the commander of the Nacinta.

“Commander Byron,” said Ganter, his eyes reflecting Byron’s own exhaustion. “We have confirmed the location of the Vindicarn and Narcon ships in sector 119-322. They’ve retreated even farther this time. Either we are beating them back…”

“Or they are just waiting for reinforcements,” Byron said, running his hand through his hair.

Ganter nodded, his eyes reduced to mere slits, which further wrinkled his forehead. “We lost thirteen men today I’m afraid. Another twenty are wounded. The nine men injured by disrupters just returned from the Tgren medical facility and should rejoin their squadrons tomorrow.”

“We lost six, with five injuries. Fortunately we did not have to deal with the Vindicarn today.”

“Small mercies. How many civilians?’

Byron pressed his fingers hard against the desk. “Forty-nine at last count. All but one are Tgren.”

“Damn good thing they finally declared war then.”

Just wish it hadn’t required a direct attack to get them to do it, Byron thought. “Commander, let me know if the enemy’s position changes.”

Ganter signed off, plunging Byron’s office into silence once more. After the daylong assault on his senses and mind, he needed a moment of peace. Reluctant to contact his security officer for an update, he pulled up Mard’s latest report on his computer. The numbers hadn’t changed, although the names of most Tgren casualties were now listed. He was relieved Athee’s uncle had escaped the ranks of civilians killed in the attack. The loss would’ve devastated her.

Byron’s gaze shifted to the list of Cassans killed during battle. His chest tightened as he read the names once again. He knew every one of those men, but it was the third name that dug deepest. Menernx, a pilot serving his third year on Tgren. The young man had possessed talent and an eagerness to improve. He’d also boasted a free spirit and great sense of humor.

Just like your father, Ernx, Byron thought, picturing his friend during their last exchange. Ernx no longer flew Cosbolts, but he’d lost none of his quick wit. Aware the death of his only son would devastate his friend, Byron had sent the news himself. Better Ernx hear it from his former comrade than receive an impersonal message.

I am so sorry, my friend, he thought.

Byron?

His mate’s was the one voice he didn’t mind breaking the silence.
How is your uncle?

He’s resting,
thought Athee.
The medical staff said he‘ll be here at least a week. I’m going to stay here with him tonight. Istaner is working with the cleanup crews and my cousin’s mate is helping with supplies. Besides, sitting by his bedside will give me time to fill out my reports.

Irony tugged at Byron’s chest.
I think I can cut you some slack if they aren’t done in a timely fashion. Besides, I know what happened during the battle. I was there, remember?

I can at least fill out my report on Ktren. I’ll miss you tonight.

I’ll miss you,
Byron thought, closing his eyes to allow her words to fill his senses. They rarely spent nights apart and he would miss the warmth of her body at his side.

Don’t forget to retrieve Bassan before you go home.

Byron’s eyes flew open. Retrieve Bassan?
I thought he was staying with Mevine?

He’s spoken to me several times tonight, asking when he can go home. Today really scared him.

Can’t he stay with you?

It’s too chaotic here
, thought Athee.
It would really disturb him to see the damage.

I still have work to do, though. I’ll ask Mevine if he can stay…

Byron!
Athee’s voice bordered on indignant.
I know we have our duties, but he hasn’t seen either of us all day and he’s really scared. And don’t tell me he ought to understand the harshness of war. All he knows is he could’ve lost both of us today.

Covering his eyes, Byron moaned. He hadn’t counted on taking care of Bassan tonight. There were still tasks he needed to complete. Granted he could perform his duties from home, but the day had taken its toll on Byron’s body. As parched as the desert surrounding Ktren, his energy was spent.

Bassan has contacted me three times in the last hour, asking when you would arrive
, thought Athee
. If you aren’t going to retrieve him, then you tell our son he won’t see either of us tonight.

Damn your powers of persuasion, Byron thought.
I’ll leave in a few minutes.

Good. I’ll feel better knowing he is with you.

Is that the real reason you want me to get him?

He wants to be with his father. That’s all the reason that matters.

Guilt pricked at Byron’s conscience. His gaze strayed to the computer screen and Menernx’s name
. I’m on my way. I’ll speak with you later.

He fielded two more messages while crossing the compound, and Byron had to pause outside of Mevine’s door to answer a third. Hopefully, he could go a few hours tonight without his computer pad chirping or a voice echoing in his head. Byron needed some sleep.

When the door slid aside, Bassan leapt out to greet him. His son hesitated, eyes wide as the boy stared at his father. Byron imagined he appeared rough. He’d never even changed out of his flight suit. Not wanting to scare his son further, he offered a faint smile. Bassan at once threw his arms around his father, clinging to Byron in a manner that suggested he might never let go. Byron draped his free arm around his son, too tired to offer more.

“You look beat.”

Byron glanced up and noticed Mevine in the doorway. The science officer straightened his shoulders.

“Sir!” he added.

“Mevine,” Byron said, shaking his head.
How many times have I told you? No formalities here. I appreciate you watching Bassan.

“He is always welcome,” said Mevine, smiling at Bassan. The boy broke his death grip on Byron and slid his small fingers into his father’s hand.

Go home and rest,
thought Mevine.
It’s been a long, terrible day for everyone, and you do indeed look beat
.

More than you can imagine. Goodnight, my friend.

Once they were home, Byron told Bassan to amuse himself in his room. Byron wanted nothing more than to shed the flight suit, which felt stuck to his body. His son obliged, providing Byron time to clean up and grab something to drink. He intended to send Bassan to bed at that point, but an urgent message derailed that idea. Collapsing on the oversized couch, he answered the call.

Several other messages had arrived and he listened to each one. Reaching the last one, Byron hesitated before opening the message from Ernx. Judging from the timestamp, his friend had sent it not long after receiving news of his son’s death this morning, Cassan time. Byron hadn’t expected a reply. He stared at it, afraid to let the message play. Ernx had lost his son under Byron’s command. The response couldn’t be good.

Leaning forward, he tapped the message. Ernx’s image appeared, his aging face revealing more lines than Byron remembered. Eyes dark and shoulders stooped, Ernx looked every bit a man who’d just lost his son.

“Byron, thank you for taking the time to send me a direct message about Menernx. I’ve always known there was a chance he might die. Comes with the territory,” said Ernx. He paused, his mouth twisted.

“Menernx was proud to serve under you. I’d told him so much about you over the years. His career choice was more influenced by you than me.”

I doubt that, my friend, Byron thought, his chest tightening. Ernx had been an excellent Cosbolt pilot in his prime.

“I remember the day he sent me the message he’d finally secured a tour of Tgren. He was so excited to meet the legend. Judging from the messages since his arrival on Tgren, you didn’t disappoint him. He was honored to serve under your command. It was a dream come true for Menernx.

“Byron,” said Ernx, his voice cracking. He dropped his chin for a moment before lifting it just enough for Byron to see the tears in his friend’s eyes. “At least I know my son died doing what he loved and doing it for a man he truly admired.”

Ernx sniffed and the message ended. Byron stared at the black screen. The tablet trembled in his hands. His friend had just lost his only son, and yet he still found it in his heart to send Byron such a moving message. Byron allowed his chin to fall to his chest.

I’m sorry your son had to die under my charge, he thought. I wish I’d known him better. I had no idea he admired me so much.

A touch on Byron’s shoulders startled him and he looked up. Bassan jumped, the tips of his fingers still touching his father. Byron stared at his son, surprised by the empathy in the boy’s thoughts. Steel blue eyes gazed back at him, but they were not cold or unfeeling. Instead, they mirrored an angst Byron had not seen since he gazed at his own childhood reflection.

“Bassan,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry, father,” his son said, removing his hand. “You just, sounded so sad, like you just lost a friend.”

Those words shot through Byron’s heart. Setting down the tablet, he reached for Bassan’s hand and pulled the boy close. Without hesitation, his son wrapped his arms around Byron’s neck. His thoughts were unshielded and Byron marveled at the love and adoration. Here Byron was lamenting not spending time with a friend’s son when he didn’t spend enough with his own. What if he’d lost Bassan today?

Byron?

Athee’s gentle voice entered his mind. If Bassan had caught Byron’s agonizing thoughts, then it was no surprise his mate heard as well.

I’m all right
, Byron thought, still holding his son. He allowed her to glimpse the message and refrained from shielding his feelings regarding Menernx and Bassan.

I’m sorry,
thought Athee in a whisper that caressed his mind.
Your son adores you, though.

I know. He’s here with me now.

Then I will allow you two a moment together.

Her presence faded. Byron released his son and held Bassan at arm’s length. He noted the short, dark hair falling across his son’s forehead, a hint of wave in the locks. It complimented the darker skin; a trait inherited from his mother. Bassan’s thin frame held very still in Byron’s grasp, waiting obediently for his father to speak first.

Byron smiled and brushed aside the hair on Bassan’s forehead. “I think you’re going to grow up to be very handsome,” he said.

“Really?” Bassan said. “Mother said I would grow up to look like you. She told me that’s good, because you’re handsome.”

“Did she now?” said Byron, both amused and flattered his mate would say that to their son.

Bassan nodded. He licked his lips and drew back his shoulders. “Father, why were you so sad?”

Byron rubbed his son’s arms, contemplating his answer. “We lost some quality men today. One was the son of a very good friend of mine.”

“I’m sorry.”