Page 62 of Desperate Measures

“I own a few bakeries on Kalquor. I’m thinking of expanding. If Haven looks promising, my son will supervise the new shop,” Diju said. “He’s an excellent baker himself and wants to expand his management skills.”

Definitely a matchmaker and pouring on the salesmanship. Charity wasn’t sure if it was an improvement over the kind of mother for whom no woman was good enough for her baby chick. Since Ilid was easy on the eyes, she was willing to learn how much fun he might be.

His smile told her he didn’t mind his mom talking him up. He must like what he sees, Charity supposed, and was reminded her appearance wasn’t what it had been. Would he have been better attracted to the old her?

“It’s very nice to meet you, Jennifer.” The warmth in Ilid’s gaze quieted the twinge of upset she wasn’t herself.

“And you, Ilid. A baker, you say? I love a guy who can cook. Did you bring anything I can sample?” She poured on the innocence in her tone and smile to keep from affronting his parents with the innuendo.

A gleam in his regard told her he’d picked up on her hint. His smile broadened. The trip to Planet Farm Hell was beginning to look up.

* * * *

Galactic Council Space

Kila paced the quarters his clan had been assigned to. Part of him marveled at the size of the room, far more spacious than his clan’s quarters on his spyship, which currently sat in a repair dock in Kalquorian space. A man could actually move around.

Hope had grumbled about the smell, but Kila rather enjoyed the animal-like musk. He also appreciated the drain in the middle of the attached lavatory, which doubled as a toilet…something else Hope strenuously objected to. “Who does their business in the damned shower?” she’d yelled when she learned how the facilities worked.

I’ll buy her an Adraf-fur scarf if I can find a seller. It’ll help her cope better.

For now, however, most of his mind puzzled over the fight they’d had at the orphanage. “I reviewed the footage we recorded of the battle at Mymah. The Darks aimed a few shots at the fighters and shuttles, but they mostly left them alone. They concentrated on firing at the spyship. A few warships could have blasted a number of the smaller vessels, then joined in the attempt to take us out. They didn’t bother.”

“For which I’m grateful. The children got away safe. I have no complaints.” Piras stretched on the large sleeping mat that had been provided for the clan, relaxing for a change. He’d voiced no criticism when it came to the smell or the facilities. He seemed perfectly content at the moment.

“I’m not complaining either. I simply wonder why they wouldn’t have gone for the easy targets. It’s as if they took our turning and daring to fight them personally.”

“They should have. I took them attacking the orphanage personally.” Lokmi scowled at his computer, set on a table scrounged up for their use. He was checking the specs on the vessel they’d hitched a ride on. He was content when it came to their quarters, but he’d been pretty judgmental about the inefficient engines. He was hoping to talk his way into the engineering department and “fix this ridiculous bucket that has no right to call itself a ship,” as he’d put it.

Her nose wrinkled, Hope listlessly stirred a cup of coffee. “I bet they were insulted. From what I heard from the prisoners we captured from the first squad that showed up at Open Arms, the Darks have insanely huge egos.”

“I’m not sure I approve of you communicating with those things,” Kila griped. “Just because you can hear them in your head doesn’t mean you have to talk to them.”

“We could learn important stuff, such as how to stop them in their tracks, if I can get them to admit a weakness.”

“Have you begun studying the interrogation protocols I sent you?” Piras asked.

“Yeah. Pretty icky stuff when I think of using them against humans, Kalquorians, or most of our allies…but against the Darks, I’m all for it.” She suddenly stood and went to the closet in the far wall. She rummaged through her travel bin until she found the light cologne she wore. She spritzed the air.

“You’ll get used to it. You won’t even notice the smell in a day or two,” Kila told her.

“That’s what you swore two days ago. I still feel as if I’m sleeping in a barn.”

“Tell me more where the Darks’ egos are concerned, my Matara. Do you believe they’re self-absorbed enough for us to use it to our advantage?” Piras sat up, relaxation fleeing in favor of finding his enemy’s weaknesses.

She considered. “The All thinks it’s superior to every other life form. Hell, it’s in the name it gave itself, isn’t it? Only a raging narcissist would say, ‘I’m the All.’ The Darks think of themselves as the All too…we Separates are abominations as far as they’re concerned.”

“What of the message you received from their dimension? From the entity that assumed your appearance? Did you ask the captured Darks about it?” Kila asked.

“I did, and they shut up quick after a moment of angry squawking. I only caught a single word…other. Or maybe the Other, like it’s a capitalized name or title? They refused to share telepathic messages afterward, but I got the idea they aren’t pals with whomever shares their dimension.”

“The All and the Other. Huh.” Kila went back to pacing, musing over the miniscule clue…if it were a clue.

A voice buzzed through the room. The entire clan alerted as it spoke. “Admiral Piras, Captain Kila, we have a visual on Jedver if you and your experts would care to join me on the bridge.”

Piras was on his feet in an instant. “Thank you, Captain. We’ll be there momentarily.” He made no attempt to call their host by name…it was beyond Kalquorian or Earther capabilities to pronounce.

“Let’s see what’s out there.” Kila noted how slow Lokmi was to leave his computer. He doubted it was solely because his clanmate was so intent on updating their host ship.

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