Wreck of the Nebula Dream (14 page)

As if registering for the first time who and what he actually was, Twilka stared at Khevan. She raised her hand to stroke the scarlet tattoo curling on his cheekbone. “You’re a D’nvannae Brother!”

“Yes.” Khevan captured her hand and lifted it away from his face, squeezing her fingers slightly before releasing them.

“Hey, I want to offer contract terms.” Her voice gained animation and energy. She didn’t even notice the tranq inject he gave her. “Get me out of here alive. I can pay, whatever the going rate is. You can do it – I know you can. The D’nvannae can do anything.” She worked to remove the intricate collar of golden chains and charms dangling around her neck and upper body. “Here, this has to be worth enough.”

“Now wait a minute.” Mara’s voice was sharp with annoyance. She frowned. “He’s with us.”

Khevan curled his hand over Twilka’s, stopping her awkward attempt to unclasp the necklace. “I’m not available for contract.”

Blinking, she stared at him in confusion. “But you – your hair’s not braided,” she argued, taking a strand of it into her fingers for a second. “So you’re available. So we contract. I have the price, right here. This necklace cost my father a fortune – two fortunes probably – on the jewelers’ planet in the Inner Sector.”

Mara stared across at Nick, who was watching this byplay in frustrated silence. He shrugged in answer to her unspoken question. “I certainly have no authority over a D’nvannae Brother. Can’t stop him from taking a personal contract. I’m grateful he acted as my backup since the problem with the lifeboat, on Level Three. There was a damn good chance I wouldn’t have been able to pull off the rescue of either the children or Twilka without him.”

Mara transferred her glare to Khevan again. Her voice dripped scorn. “It’s common knowledge that the Red Lady who rules your Order favors profit over philanthropy. Twilka’s necklace is more than a fair price for the services of a D’nvannae, even such a high-ranking one as you appear to be.”
 

The Brother’s answering words took Nick by surprise.

“I cannot contract with you.” Khevan was speaking to Twilka gently but with unmistakable finality. “The Lady Whom I Serve decrees what a Brother does and does not undertake. This night I serve at this man’s command.” He pointed at Nick.

“For how long?” Twilka pouted.

 
It was not an attractive expression for her, in Nick’s opinion.

“As long as it takes to get us – all of us – off this cursed ship. I can’t argue with the Red Lady. Nor can I accept a private contract while I am bound by Her to act upon Captain Jameson’s orders.”

“I’ve never heard of a D’nvannae refusing a legally offered contract,” Mara said.
 

Khevan raised one eyebrow. “And you are, of course, our contractual expert, Miss Lyrae. But in this matter, you’re mistaken. The Brotherhood does refuse contract if the Lady herself declines. Rare, I admit, but so is the situation in which we find ourselves tonight.”

Nick cleared his throat. “I don’t know why you’re so sure your Red Lady wants you to take my orders, but I’m grateful.”

Khevan made him a half bow. “The word of the Lady is quite unmistakable to an initiate.” He gazed at Twilka, who apparently had nothing to say, her eyes wide and her mouth open. “You’re one of our party now, and therefore, I’ll work to see you safely away from this ship, along with the rest.”
 

Guy sounds genuinely sorry he can’t take the contract.
Nick checked Twilka’s reaction.

The girl licked her bruised lips, fingering the rejected necklace absently. “Well, I guess that’ll have to do then, won’t it?” Closing her eyes, she reclined on the couch, deliberately shutting them all out.

Mara took a deep breath. “If we’ve settled the issue, I’m going to get the children something to eat.”

“Let them nap a bit if they’re so inclined,” Nick advised. “It’s going to take me a while to do anything out there on the bridge. The primary and secondary AI interfaces are probably a total loss, smashed into oblivion.”

“So what do you hope to accomplish?” Mara took some drinks and snacks out of the cabinets, dividing them up. “A vessel the size of the
Nebula Dream
will be helpless without two-way communication with its AI.”

Nick grinned. This he did have an answer for. “Once, on a Star Guard cruiser, in the middle of a rough mission, I watched techs get their AI online in time to save us from the pursuing enemy fighters. I’m willing to bet the men who trashed their own bridge here tonight didn’t know about the manufacturer’s redundancies for the AI interface system. The AI monopoly keeps some proprietary trade secrets highly classified.”

“I suppose if a Special Forces team had been ordered to destroy the
Dream
’s bridge, there wouldn’t be a hope in the Seven Hells of talking to the AI ever again?” Mara teased.

“Damn straight. No one would.” Nick left them then, walking out onto the bridge. The portal shut behind him.

About half an hour later, Nick heard the wardroom door open and he smelled genuine coffee. Mara had come to find him, a mug of steaming Terran coffee in her hand. “Nick?” She paused, staring around the dimly lit bridge.

He sat up carefully, having been curled under a console to her left, reaching into the circuits. “Over here. Watch where you step. There are a lot of broken shards from the readouts and vids. Do I smell real coffee? All I could get in the Third Level dining room was synth swill.”
 

“I found the captain’s private stash, I think.” She raised the mug and steam swirled above her hand. The emergency lights gleamed off the embossed SMT crest. The
Nebula Dream
’s name sparkled in fancy golden script at the cup’s rim. “I made some for the adults, didn’t want you to miss out. No cream or sugar or gincinna spice, though.”

Nick reached out a hand. “I’ll take it as long as it’s strong and hot.”

“Hot and strong I can deliver.” Gracefully, she picked her way through the debris on the deck.
 

He came to meet her halfway, stretching his cramped limbs and then taking the mug. Their hands met for a fleeting second.

“This is terrific, thank you.” Taking a second swallow of the hot, bracing fluid, he sat on the edge of the captain’s chair. After taking another drink, half emptying the mug, he gazed at her over the rim. “How are you doing?”

“Oh, I’m exhausted. Probably not as beat-up as you, or poor Twilka, though. I’m not complaining. I’m good for whatever it takes to get us to safety.” She pushed a few loose tendrils of her hair behind her ear, adjusting the small pearl stud in her earlobe. “If I forgot to mention it before, thanks for coming with me, to rescue Paolo and Gianna.”

 
Smiling, he pushed the last curl behind her other ear, brushing her cheek lightly. “Other than meeting you, this was a damn boring cruise until tonight – last night – hell, whatever night it was. I’m not bored now.” Preparing to resume work, he set the empty mug out of the way.

Mara retrieved the cup, tracing the design with her fingertip for a minute. “I feel guilty you and Khevan were so close to getting off this damn ship on the Level Three LB and now, since you came to help me, who knows if you’ll survive? If any of us will? I honestly believed there were more lifeboats on Level Two.”

“Hey.” He stood, caught her hand in his, and pulled her close. “I wasn’t leaving this ship without you. As soon as I got the lifeboat launched, I was going to your level to find you.”

Surprisingly, she leaned into his embrace, her arms encircling his waist. “I was so frightened after the crash. I’d been working and then the next second, I was on the floor, with one of my computers on top of me. My cabin was distorted, the bulkheads shoved out of alignment. But the hull wasn’t breached. At least, not then. I believed I was trapped. I had to pry the portal open. Then I heard the children crying from the cabin next to mine.”

Nick gave her a hug, since she seemed to need physical contact and he relished having her in his arms. “You stayed cool, did what needed to be done.”

Mara’s voice was muffled, her head resting on his chest. “I wish Mrs. Nadenoft had survived.”

He held her away from him, drinking in the sight of her beautiful face. “I’m glad
you
did.”
 

There was an odd breathless moment of tension between them before he let her go.
I wanted to kiss her so bad, wonder how she would have reacted?

“What progress have you made in connecting to the AI? Any luck there?” Mara twirled his coffee mug on the broad arm of the captain’s chair.

Glad she’d changed the subject, he glanced at the console he’d been working on. “A few more minutes and I’ll be inviting the others in for a debrief. I’m about ready.”

Head tilted, she was studying his face. “I’m guessing it’s not good, is it?”

“No.” He took a step back to the site of his painstaking labors. “Since you’re here, can you stay a few minutes, hand me the tools, so I don’t have to waste time getting up?”

“Of course. I’ll be glad to have something to occupy me while I’m waiting.” Mara walked after him toward the console, broken shards crunching under her feet.

 
“It won’t bother you?” He nodded toward the far corner of the bridge, where he and Khevan had placed the bodies of the SMT officers, covering the poor unfortunate victims with the heavy linen tablecloth from the wardroom.

She shuddered, head turning involuntarily in the direction of the impromptu morgue before she gazed at him again with a deep sigh. “Of course it bothers me, but if you could use some help, then I’m here. We don’t have time to waste on being squeamish. So, I can deal with it. Thank you for keeping the children from seeing – seeing too much.”

“Sure thing.” Nick hunkered down and crawled beneath the lip of the instrument panel. “Poor kids have already seen too much, what with their mother being killed in front of them earlier tonight.”

“I hope maybe they were asleep at the actual moment of impact.” Mara cleared off a bare patch on the deck, kicking stuff aside with one foot. Sitting cross-legged, leaning on the bottom panel of the console, she was ready to hand Nick tools or whatever else he might require to finish his task. “Seems odd you know how to fix an AI interface. I mean, your being a soldier, not a tech.”

“Well, if you’ll pardon my saying so, I’m not
just a soldier
.” Nick stuck his head out, giving her an exaggerated frown and then a grin as he emphasized the last three words. “You’re dealing with the Special Forces here, lady.”

She laughed. “Well, excuse me, sir. I knew there were different branches of the service –”

“Special Forces operators work behind enemy lines, blow things up, commit acts of sabotage. Other miscellaneous jobs I can’t tell you about. We don’t publicize ourselves.” His voice was muffled as he tugged at something. Sparks flew and he cursed luridly for a minute, nursing a singed finger. “Have to know how things are put together to blow them apart. Hand me a reverse grav clamp, would you?”

She slapped the indicated item into his outstretched palm. “I guess it’s logical, when you explain it. I never thought about it before. The adventure vids make blowing things up appear pretty easy.” Now she was teasing him.

“Yeah, the entertainment folks leave out a lot of the boring details in those vids. I think we’re ready for a status briefing now.” Nick wriggled out from under the equipment and stood, brushing futilely at his clothes. “Let’s get the others.”

Mara took his hand and they walked across the bridge.
 

Reaching the door of the wardroom, Nick beckoned to Khevan and Twilka. Gianna was asleep in Paolo’s lap, clutching her teddy bear, snoring softly. Her face was flushed. Nick hoped she wasn’t coming down with something.
Things were tricky enough already without a sick child on my hands.

“We’ll be right out there, on the bridge, if you need us, okay, trooper?” Nick said softly to Paolo, who looked as if he never planned to close his eyes again.
Kid is definitely running on nervous energy.
“We’ll leave the door open. I promise, we’re not going anywhere on this ship without you and your sister. Officer’s word of honor.”

Satisfied by Paolo’s silent, small nod, he walked to the center of the bridge, the other adults trailing after him, an apprehensive audience.

Over his shoulder, he said, “I have bad news. It’s probably the worst thing you’ve ever heard. And then we’ll get to my personal worst nightmare, come true on this damn ship.” He stopped at the captain’s chair and faced them. “Which do you want first?”

“Could you kind of lead up to the last part gradually?” Twilka requested. “I think I’m scared of your nightmares, soldier. One tranq didn’t do much good for my nerves. And there aren’t anymore tranqs in the medkit, which is the first piece of bad news, in my opinion, even before
you
start broadcasting!”

Nick chuckled.

Then he straightened, his tone growing even more flat and matter of fact, as if he was briefing a Special Forces squad prior to a mission. “All right, here’s the deal. Night before last, Number Four engine dropped out of sync and the crew had to shut the engines off most of the night. Eventually they got three units burning again.”

“But Captain Bonlors said it was routine maintenance!” Twilka protested. “I mean, he told me personally!”