Page 26 of Desperate Measures

“We just left two days ago. Did I forget my hairbrush?” Piras asked the com vid image of Admiral Tranis.

“I wish it were so trivial. We have a major problem, Admiral, Captain Kila.”

Tranis’ bearded visage was grim, snuffing Piras’ rare urge to joke. He exchanged a glance with Kila. His Nobek stood at his side in the spyship captain’s ready room, where they’d been reviewing their itinerary for searching Galactic Council space for the All. They were mere hours from gaining the enemy space under the cover of the ship’s phase. Despite their proximity, they’d thus far gone unchallenged.

Tranis’ priority com had halted their planning session. “I assume we have a change in mission?” Piras asked.

“I’m ordering you to immediately divert to Open Arms Orphanage on the moon Mymah at full speed.”

“The Earther orphanage set up following Armageddon.” Realization woke.

Kila’s ever-present grin dimmed as his attention intensified on Tranis’ com image. “It has Kalquorian personnel. They didn’t evacuate when the GC put out the order?”

“They believed they were exempt, given the orphanage’s charter. At least it’s what their head of security Nobek Besral claims. I’m inclined to believe they were unwilling to leave the children.”

“I take it the GC has reneged on the charter,” Kila growled.

“They have a squad of six prime defender warships speeding to the orphanage now and are expected to arrive in five days. They’ve threatened to arrest anyone who dares to defend the Kalquorian staff, which are a dozen Nobeks over the age of one hundred sixty. Most are closer to the two-hundred-year mark.”

“How brave of the Darks,” Kila snorted. “Is the GC’s squad headed by a ridden officer?”

“No surprise, right? The head of the orphanage, Matara Cheryl Taupin, heard the commanding officer’s voice doubled.”

“How many children and minders?” Piras asked, his tone quiet.

“Five hundred minors and twenty-two Earther administrators. The human caretakers are women.”

“There’s the second part of your answer as to why the Nobeks wouldn’t leave,” Kila said.

Piras snarled an oath under his breath. Twelve Nobeks nearing retirement age, nearly two dozen women, and hundreds of children. And no vessels to defend them from six heavily armed warships.

“The All has no honor,” Kila observed, his trademark grin turning to a snarl. “We can get there first, as long as the Darks don’t detect us as we cross the GC’s border. What of reinforcements? An evacuation fleet?”

Spyships were among the smallest vessels of the Kalquorian fleet. They were faster than most, and thanks to them already having a head start in Mymah’s general direction, Kila could reach the orphanage well ahead of the enemy. Unfortunately, there was no hope of loading five hundred children and the orphanage’s staff on board. Even if he jettisoned the vessels in his craft’s shuttle and fighter bays, he wouldn’t have enough room for an evacuation.

“You’ll arrive two days ahead of the group of marauders we’re sending. We can’t get a transport in because none of those ships have phase ability.”

Kila checked his computer. His gaze flicked to Tranis. “At full speed, we’ll be there less than a day before the GC squadron.”

Piras’ heart plunged to his stomach. A lone spyship, which carried a limited amount of weaponry, against six warships. The odds were abysmal.

Tranis’ visage reflected the direness of the situation. “You’ll have to fend them off on your own for at least thirty-nine hours. Maybe more if the marauders are detected by the Darks when they cross into GC space.”

“No doubt the enemy will be watching for a rescue attempt,” Piras noted.

“No doubt. If not for the women and children…” he spread his hands helplessly.

“But they’re there, and it’s up to us to keep them alive.” In an instant, Piras’ horror fled, replaced by ironclad duty. “Let them know we’re on our way, Admiral Tranis.”

Chapter Seven

Kalquor

Betra smiled at Resan as his Dramok motioned for him to approach the door to Clan Seot’s home. Resan probably did so because he didn’t want the responsibility of being the first to greet Shalia, should she answer the summons. Betra chose to give his clanmate the benefit of a doubt and concluded he was being deferential because of the former relationship he’d had no part of.

There was no need to press the door announce to alert Clan Seot they had visitors. After all, theirs was the sole home dug into the rocky island off the capital city’s shore. Shalia had clanned well, though it had been a side-effect of her falling very much in love.

Which was what I wanted for her when we ended as lovers, Betra had a moment to think, then the unobtrusive door set in stone disappeared to reveal Anrel.

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