to herself as she watched. From her high vantage point, she could see the box at the vendor’s feet, pushed under the heavy shade of the booth’s table. From the top of the box, Keryn could see at least three other vases just like the one in the vendor’s hand.
The door behind her cracked open and she turned at the sound. Adam’s familiar blond hair and strong Terran features were all that was exposed through the thin opening of the door. Even trying to cover the rest of his body, Keryn could see a splatter of blood smeared across his cheek. As Adam stepped out of the way, she entered the cramped hotel room.
Adam stood, his chest bare as he tried futilely to wipe away the blood that coated his muscular forearms and hands. Pointing at her own cheek, she let him know about the smear that had made its way to his face. He scrubbed furiously as Keryn looked around the rest of the room. On an end table next to the sofa, the bloody, serrated scalpel had been dropped arbitrarily as Adam passed through the room toward the front door.
Finally wiping away the majority of the gore on his arms and face, Adam looked at her sternly. “He told us everything we wanted to know,” he said matter-of-factly. “Deplitoxide is a derivative from a plant growing in the swamps of Beracus, in the Falitan Galaxy.”
Keryn recalled what she could of the Falitan Galaxy. It was a galaxy off the main trade routes, damning it to relative obscurity. Try as she might, she couldn’t recall anything of importance about the small galaxy except that it only had two or three planets in orbit around its tiny red sun. She had to assume that Beracus was the only inhabitable planet among the few planets in orbit. It wasn’t hard to see why it would have been unexplored before Cardax arrived and found Deplitoxide among its flora.
“Penchant is cleaning up the room as we speak,” Adam continued flatly. He paused, the look of concern returning to his face. “He’s still alive back there, but he’s in bad shape. If you wanted to speak to him…” His voice trailed off, leaving the sentence incomplete.
“No,” Keryn replied, shaking her head. She had no intention of giving the Voice more reason to creep back into her thoughts. “Go wash yourself while Penchant finishes in the back. I’ll head back onto the porch and make sure we’re not interrupted until everything is finished.”
Adam stepped toward the single bathroom, but paused in mid step. “We did the right thing here,” he said, without turning around to look at her. “The ends truly do justify the means here.” When she didn’t immediately reply, he walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
“I know,” she whispered to the closed door. Turning, she went back outside and closed the door behind her. She was glad to be back outside; Keryn had always been amazed at how easy it was to feel alone when there were so many people around her. The noise surrounded her like a cocoon, enveloping her with so many sounds and distractions that they merged into a single hum of activity, each lacking distinction from the next.
Closing her eyes, she took in the sounds and smells of Miller’s Glen. City living had always been an escape for Keryn; a world so unlike that of her home that she was easily able to forget the pressures of her race and the Voice it carried. Night after night during her time at the Academy, she and her friends had slipped away into the city, losing themselves in pulsing beats of clubs and potent drinks at the bars. It seemed fitting that she found herself in another city, losing herself once more among the sights and sounds.
Keryn shivered as a cold wind blew over her body. She opened her violet eyes, surprised to feel a breeze on such a warm planet. Glancing at the crowd, she found that she was not the only one surprised. Many of the patrons and vendors on the street passing in front of the hotel had stopped their bartering and glanced around, confused.
A shadow fell over Keryn and in surprise she turned to find what had blocked the sunlight from her face. Others turned as the shadow spread down the street, carrying with it a cold wind. Screams started to spread as, one by one, the citizens of Miller’s Glen looked up at the sky. Her eyes turning all the way to the sun itself, Keryn’s mouth fell open and her eyes wide in surprise. Nothing had come in between the sun and Miller’s Glen to create the shadow. The shadow had come from the sun itself. At the base of the sun’s southern hemisphere, a black spot grew over the surface of the swollen orb. Black tendrils spread across its surface, casting thick shadows onto the planet below.
Shaking free of the spell that had befallen them all, people began running for cover. Like cattle, people on the street pushed and strained against one another as some ran inside buildings and others ran toward the spaceport on the edge of town. Merchants fled, leaving behind piles of substandard food and trade goods that they had been selling at high prices. The streets were in chaos, punctuated time and again by sounds of gunfire and the screams of those unfortunate enough to fall and be trampled by the fleeing masses.
Keryn lunged from the railing and threw open the door to the hotel room. “You guys need to see this,” she yelled into the room. “Now!”
Adam, who had pulled on pants but remained barefoot dripping with water from his shower quickly joined her on the balcony. As the cold blast of air struck him, he shivered reflexively. Penchant quickly joined them as well, appearing in his natural state and still stained with Cardax’s dark blood from his clean up in the back room.
“What the hell?” Adam asked, breathlessly, as he stared up as the vanishing sun. He shivered again in the cold air; the temperature in Miller’s Glen was dropping rapidly as the sun continued to disappear. Staring at what remained of the sun, only half the sphere was still yellow. The rest had been consumed by the inky darkness.
As they watched, the darkness spread both on the sun’s surface and across the planet below. They stared as another quarter of the sun vanished; the planet was cast into a growing twilight. Keryn squinted against the fading light of the sun, straining to see a flicker of movement in orbit above the planet. Her eyes spreading wide, she pointed near the base of the now nearly black sun.
“Do you two see that?” she asked. Following her lead, Adam and Penchant watched as two separate concentric blue circles expanded in the sky. “Is that what I think it is?”
Adam clenched his jaw tight as he watched the blue circles spread. “They’re plasma explosions,” he said, his voice sounding dead and in disbelief. “I think we just lost the two Interstellar Alliance Cruisers in orbit.”
Keryn shoved at them both, trying to push them back inside the hotel room. “Get back inside. I think this is about to get a lot worse for us all.”
Slamming the door behind them, Keryn pulled free the radio on her wrist. “Cerise, this is Keryn.”
Static was the only reply she heard in her earpiece. Pressing the talk button, she tried to reach the
As she released the talk button, static again leapt to life on the otherwise silent radio. Her hand shaking, she pushed the button one last time. “Cerise, please answer me,” she said weakly. Letting go of the button and hearing static one more time, Keryn turned toward the other two, tears in her eyes.
“I think we might have lost the
CHAPTER 10:
Placing his hand on the smooth metal of the fighter’s hull, Yen perused the line of ships in the gargantuan hangar bay. The small
Though he moved from fighter to fighter, his thoughts were miles away, stuck invariably on Keryn’s face, the Wyndgaart who saved his life and with whom he had fallen in love. The thought of her smile and touch haunted him as he went about his tasks, checking fighter after fighter in his Squadron. Absently, he typed the closest ship’s serial number into his palm display, bringing up the maintenance report for the ship. It said what he already knew it would: the ship was immaculate. Yen had the best crew and pilots in the Fleet under his command, and it showed in his vessels.
“It’s still good, you know,” a female voice called from behind him, her voice seemingly lost in the vastness of the hangar. Yen didn’t have to turn to know who it was. Among his pilots, only one had truly become his confidant and friend.
“Warrant Morven,” Yen said, turning toward the attractive Warrant Officer. Though her blond Pilgrim hair was tussled and grease smeared on her cheek from working on her ship, he was still warmed by her smile. Iana Morven was one of the higher-ranking Warrants under Yen’s command. Though there were a number of full officers on
