Page 45 of Reformation
You’re not going to be killed.He crouched beneath the right-side gun, leveled his laser cutter up at the belly of it, and turned it on high. The laser made enough of a hole that he could jam a pulse emitter into the gap, which began to break the hardened metal apart. The growing whine of an impending shot abruptly cut off.
He moved over to the left gun, doing the same thing. By the time he had the second emitter in place, the first gun had already shaken itself into pieces. Flashing lights on the ship’s hull indicated their state of emergency. Good.
It wasn’t enough to just disarm them, though. He had to disable them. They knew the energy signature of Jason’s ship now, and if they were desperate enough, they might try to ram it before they could get up to speed. Jason situated himself right beneath the control cabin and turned his laser cutter on.
Ship shields were designed to combat laser systems. Big ships had big defenses in place, and lasers were considered a primitive means of fighting them. Little ships like this, though, while still shielded, weren’t nearly as tough. A powerful, focused laser with enough time could penetrate a hull, and Jason wasn’t going anywhere yet. It took five minutes, but when he felt the ship shudder beneath his hands, he knew he’d penetrated deep enough. He put his last few laser emitters into the subsequent hole, then pushed off and away. Let them fly with the hole that was about to erupt from their belly.
I’ve got them! Are you coming?
I’ll be there soon.Jason set his reel to bring him back. He kept his eyes on the ship, watching with cold satisfaction as it beganto list. Their fuel storage had been compromised—excellent. The shaking was growing more pronounced—even better.
Where do we go now? To find Garrett?Ferran asked.
No.Nowhere in the Central System would be safe for them now.We go to Perelan.
An explosion in the enemy ship lit the darkness for a moment. A second, larger one followed. The shock wave helped push Jason along a bit faster.
And now we know we won’t be followed.
Chapter twenty-five
Miles; Darrel; Garrett
Miles sat alone in his ready room, eyes darting between the message he’d just received from his son and the data he was getting on the enemy fleet’s formation. They were less than a standard day’s distance from Pandora. Now, he reminded himself firmly, wasnotthe time to turn this ship around and blast Raymond Alexander’s personal residence into atoms.
They’re safe. That was the first thing Garrett had said, that his girls were safe. It was a good way to start because the story that followed was harrowing enough without a load of uncertainty on top of it. Explosions, deaths, being hunted down and almost captured if not for intervention from Perelan’s ambassadors. Now his family was on the way to an alien planet where the Alliance had very little jurisdiction, which was a comfort. The president’s gamble had failed.
You’re next.His son had sounded hollow as he said the words, like all the energy had been burnt out of him.He’ll havethem focus on your flagship to try and take you out. It’ll sow dissension and put your fleet into a state of chaos. You should hang back, let other ships take the brunt of the attacks while you whittle them down.
It was a loving thought but not a practical one. Miles’s ship was the flagship for a reason—it was half again as big as any of the other vessels and had the best shields and guns by far. Miles had already pulled his senior staff aside and had them install a program into the tracking system that was calibrated to center on the energy signatures of the waiting ships, instead of arriving in a flurry and wasting valuable time trying to identify the enemy. He’d gotten some side-eyes for it, but they were nothing he couldn’t defuse and certainly no accusations, not after laying down the law with his subordinate captains. They could complain about him all they wanted to, but they would follow him into battle and follow their orders, or he would install new captains in their places.
There were fewer than twenty-four hours before they arrived in orbit over Pandora. He should sleep. He should send Garrett more than a rote affirmation of receipt of his message. What hereallywanted to do was directly contact the Perel ship holding his family, but that could draw attention that would be unwise, not to mention deadly for everyone aboard. They wouldn’t be safe until they were actually on the planet. Raymond hadn’t grown bold enough to attack a sovereign alien world, not yet. Not ever if Miles had his way.
His children were in the hands of the Perel. He, in turn, had one of their children on his ship. Miles rubbed his eyes for a moment, then went back to studying the spacescape over Pandora. He was going to do everything in his power to make sure that child was returned, safely, to his home.
***
There was a strange sort of tension on board, nothing like what Darrel had imagined when he thought about serving in the fleet. He had assumed that activity would far outweigh any downtime, that excitement would supersede boredom, and that duty wouldn’t feel like so much terrifying obligation.
He was wrong. They were heading into a fight tomorrow, and far from bluster and brashness, everyone around him was just … quiet. Like they couldn’t quite believe what was happening to them and didn’t want to think about it anyway. Most of the crew were first- and second-year cadets, so that stood to reason.
Eventually, he took refuge in the room he shared with Grennson, who looked as disturbed as Darrel had ever seen him, all his quills sharp and lifted. “Oh,” Darrel said, finally understanding. “This must feel even worse to you.”
Grennson nodded miserably. “There’s a lot of fear. It’s … without something like adrenaline to combat it, fear is an exhausting emotion to subject yourself to over and over. It grates against the mind, always moving, never silent. It’s radiating at me from all corners of the ship right now, and I can’t escape it.”
Darrel sat down next to him. “Am I making it worse, or do you want me to stay?”
Grennson immediately took his hand. “Stay. You make everything better.”
Darrel had finally gotten over his blushing reaction every time Grennson complimented him, but he still felt a little swell of warmth from it. “Here, sit down in front of me.” He tossed a cushion on the floor. “And try not to stab me, okay?”
“Okay.” Grennson got down on his knees, facing away from Darrel, and Darrel cracked his knuckles and tried to remember what Jason had told him about tension headaches and Perel.Light and gentle, focus on the temples, deep breaths, easy strokes.He set his fingertips along the ridge of Grennson’seyebrows and stroked outward, following the curving bone to the very edge of Grennson’s temples, then repeating it.
Slowly he got into a rhythm, and as he made his gentle motions, his own nerves started to settle. He couldseethe good it did Grennson, the stiffness of his quills lessening until at last they were feather soft again, his shoulders gradually lowering until they didn’t almost touch his ears anymore.
Darrel wasn’t sure how long he’d been going, but by the time he stopped, he could tell that their breaths, even their heartbeats, were in perfect sync. It was the sort of empathic connection Perel were only capable of with people they were especially close to, and he felt grateful that he qualified. “Do you think you can sleep?”
Grennson nodded. “Do you feel ready for tomorrow?”
