CassaStorm (34 page)

“Sir!” said the Vindicarn holding the computer. He gestured for Cherzta to look at the screen.

“What’s happening?” said Piten.

“The command system is reprogramming,” said Byron. He tilted Bassan so his son could see the console. “Look! It worked.”

The flashing lights ceased and the screen went dark.
Now what?
he thought. There was a pause before Athee replied.

According to Mevine, the system’s now accepting new commands. It’s waiting for our input. What are we supposed to tell it?

New commands? Mevine had mentioned the possibility of reprogramming the probe. Byron could think of only one answer.

Protect us
, he thought, growing excited.
Athee, have Mevine pass that to the others. We can tell the probe to protect all of the races. All eleven races.

“Sir, according to the Jerril, it’s waiting for a command,” the man with the computer announced.

“Protect!”

All heads turned toward Byron. Cherzta’s brows came together.

“Command the probe to protect all the races,” Byron said, sitting up straighter. “You really want peace? That alien ship will ensure no more wars. And it will protect us from outside forces should something even worse come along. Maybe even the aliens who created it.”

The Vindicarn leader was clearly skeptical of the idea. He opened his mouth to speak, but the man with the computer held up his screen. Cherzta frowned, his fists tightening at his sides. They conversed for a moment, their voices hushed.

Byron held his breath. They’d warred with the Vindicarn for so many years. Would Cherzta and the others agree to such a proposition?

Cherzta glanced again at Byron before nodding to the man with the computer. With heavy steps, he returned to the console.

Byron,
thought Athee, her mental voice gasping.
The leaders have agreed.

He watched as Cherzta punched in a code and placed his hand on the metallic ball. Athee confirmed the transmission from all ten leaders and Byron’s shoulders sagged in relief. The Vindicarn might not want peace, but that probe now left them no other option.

Piten nudged Byron’s elbow. “Good call on that one.”

“Pity the first race that breaks that pact,” Byron said in a low voice.

His body ached from emotional exhaustion. Adjusting his grip on Bassan, he attempted to rise. The Rogue grabbed his arm and hauled Byron to his feet. Armed Vindicarn hovered nearby and he wondered how long it would be before they were permitted to leave. Despite Piten’s healing, his son still required medical attention.

Cherzta stepped away from the console and the man with the computer confirmed the command’s successful upload. The Vindicarn leader glanced around the room, his expression wary. His soldiers waited, staring at one another in confusion. Those men had no idea of the full implication of what had just occurred.

Won’t they be surprised, Byron thought.

His gaze falling to the three outsiders, Cherzta approached them. Byron stiffened as the man halted in front of him, his scowl present once more.

“I know who you are,” Cherzta said, his black eyes cold as he stared at Byron. “You’re the pilot who destroyed our only disrupter vessel forty years ago. You killed thousands of my people that day.”

Byron’s stomach tightened. He hadn’t realized Cherzta would have access to such information. That single act of destruction had ended the war, but at a high price for the man’s race. If the Vindicarn wanted revenge, he now possessed the perfect opportunity. Byron could not have walked into a bigger trap.

In his arms, Bassan shifted his position. A hand grasped Byron’s neck and he held his son tighter.

“Father, I want to go home,” said Bassan, his voice raspy.

Cherzta glanced at Byron’s son. His eyes narrowed to mere slits.

“And yet you risked your life and that of your son’s to save us,” the Vindicarn stated, his voice just above a whisper.

Afraid to speak, lest he endanger Bassan’s life as well, Byron held his tongue. Piten didn’t speak either. The Rogue’s hand rested on the back of Byron’s shoulder, the thin fingers pressing hard against his skin. Blocking his fear from Athee, Byron waited, prepared for the worst.

Pivoting on his heels, Cherzta flicked a hand in Byron’s direction. “Take them back to their ship.”

Concerned the Vindicarn would change his mind, Byron spun toward the exit. The man who’d led them into the alien ship guided the two men out of the main control room. Byron avoided making eye contact with any of the guards and focused on his steps, eager to be away.

We’re going home now
, he thought to Bassan.

With his son in his arms, Byron found the loose sand a challenge. Piten grabbed his arm and steadied Byron as the trudged toward the shuttle. The hatch opened and he hustled inside.

“Sir!” said the security officer, holding out his hands to help.

“Just close that hatch and get us back to the Litheron,” Byron ordered.

He slid Bassan into a seat and the boy’s limp body drooped to one side. Piten held his son upright while Byron fastened the harness. Easing Bassan to one side, Byron managed to prop him up long enough to secure his own harness. The Rogue took the seat beside his son, pulling at the seat’s straps in haste. The engines roared to life and both men pressed a hand against Bassan’s body as the shuttle lifted into the air.

His heart still pounding from the hasty departure, Byron grasped his son’s neck and tilted his head back. Bassan’s eyes were closed but his mind continued to function.

“He’s just exhausted,” said Piten.

Byron pulled Bassan closer so that the boy’s head rested against his shoulder. The ship’s engines roared, signifying a rapid ascent. Deep in his chest, the teleporter began to hum. The sensation soothed his nerves and he sighed. Byron met Piten’s gaze.

“Thank you for bringing him back,” he said.

“You instructed me to protect your son,” said the Rogue. “But I would’ve done it regardless. I owed him that.”

A flash of sunlight filled the cabin, illuminating the man’s face. The regret in Piten’s eyes as he stared at Bassan, coupled with the man’s tender expression, reminded Byron the Rogue possessed a family as well. One he’d not seen or spoken to in many weeks. Piten had fulfilled his end of the bargain and then some. The Rogue deserved compensation for his efforts.

The teleporter kicked into action and the light vanished. Byron turned toward the cockpit as the maw of the hangar came into view. They would be safe within the Litheron in moments. Making a decision, Byron turned to Piten.

“Where is your home?” he said.

“My home?” the Rogue said, eyebrows rising. Piten eyed him with suspicion, his jaw moving as contemplated his answer. “Spaceport Arden Five. It resides in Charren territory, near the Narcon border.”

“I’m going to ask Commander Wraint if you can contact your family tonight. They should be able to get a signal through before we jump from Vindicarn space.”

Piten’s mouth fell open. Byron couldn’t help but smile at the man’s stunned expression.

“You’re serious?” the Rogue said.

“It’s the least I can do.”

Leaning back in his seat, Piten grinned from ear to ear. For the first time, Byron sensed emotion in the man. His genuine joy filled the cabin, infecting Byron as well.

The Rogue had saved his son. He’d saved all of them.

“Thank you,” Piten said.

The shuttle trembled as it touched down in the hangar. Glancing at his son, Byron stroked the side of Bassan’s face. They’d made it.

You do have a heart
, thought Athee.

Byron smiled. Trust his mate to hear everything.
Just don’t tell anyone.

Chapter Sixteen

“Hey sleepy, wake up,” said Byron.

Nestled in their bed, Bassan showed no sign of movement. He stroked his son’s head again, smoothing the wild locks. This time Bassan roused. He yawned and stretched his arms before rubbing his eyes with his fists. Byron smiled as his son blinked in confusion.

“Time to wake up,” he said, cupping his son’s face with his hand. “I think you’ve slept long enough.”

Bassan stared at him a moment before his eyes grew wide. “Where am I?”

“Relax,” said Byron. “You’re in our quarters. You’ve been asleep a long time.”

Panic crossed Bassan’s face and he struggled to sit upright. “The code!” he said, grasping at Byron’s arms. “Did it stop the probe?”

Byron laughed. “Yes, you downloaded the code, the leaders all declared peace, and the probe was stopped.”

Mouth open in surprise, Bassan leaned back against his pillow. Byron had wondered if his son would remember the events of the previous night. Considering he’d almost lost Bassan, he was grateful his son’s recollection of their time on the Vindicarn’s planet waned. Byron never wanted to experience a night like that again.

“The probe isn’t going to destroy Tgren?” Bassan said, doubt in his eyes.

“No,” Byron grasping, grasping his shoulder. “In fact, we reprogrammed it to protect all of the races.”

His son’s eyebrows rose and he sat up straighter. “Even the Rogue?”

Without hesitation, Byron nodded. “The Rogue are a mixture of all races, so I imagine the probe will protect them as well.”

Bassan rubbed his eyes again. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Since we boarded the shuttle to return to the Litheron last night,” said Byron. “I let you sleep through the morning meal, but that was several hours ago. Thought it was time you woke up and got some food in you.”

“I guess I am hungry.”

Byron patted his head. “Then let’s get something to eat,” he said.

Bassan smiled, his eyes still heavy from sleep. It was the first full night’s rest Byron’s son had enjoyed in weeks. Bassan had even slept through the medical examination last night. As exhausted as his son, Byron had also slept well into the morning hours.

Before they left their quarters, Byron knelt in front of Bassan. His son appeared confused and stared at him with wary eyes. Byron grabbed his shoulders and gave them a firm squeeze.

“I want you to know,” he began, hoping he could convince Bassan of his sincerity. Byron stroked his son’s head in an attempt to alleviate his son’s anxiety.

“I want you to know that I am very proud of you.”

Bassan’s mood changed at once. Joy radiated from his mind and his delightful smile returned. Pulling Bassan closer, Byron felt the boy’s arms wrap around his neck. Byron sighed, grateful he hadn’t lost him.

His son pulled away, his small hands still holding Byron’s shoulders.

“Would Bassa be proud of me?” said Bassan, a ripple of concern disrupting his joy.

“Yes,” Byron answered without hesitation. He could see his former navigator, the man’s eyes bright. “Bassa would be proud of us both.”

His son’s eager grin returned. Byron patted his head and rose to his feet.

“Let’s go get something to eat,” he said.

Bassan bubbled with excitement as they entered the telepod. When the door opened on another section of quarters, he stared at the empty hall in confusion.

“What are we doing here?” he said, legs moving fast to keep up with Byron.

“It’s almost time for the midday meal,” said Byron, grinning in anticipation of his son’s reaction. “I thought you’d like some company.”

He paused at a door and touched the press plate. There was a moment’s hesitation and the door slid open. Byron entered and nodded at the occupant. He stepped aside and turned to his son.

“Piten!” Bassan said, his face beaming.

The Rogue rose from his chair at the computer and returned Bassan’s smile. “Good to see you up and about.”

They faced each other for a moment, as if unsure how to respond. Piten gestured to the computer.

“Sorry, I was checking on some friends of mine. Seems I’ve been missed.”

Bassan glanced at his father. Byron smiled and offered a nod of assurance. His son uttered a cry of joy and rushed toward the Rogue. He hugged the Rogue with such ferocity he nearly pushed Piten back into the wall.

“Hey there!” said Piten, returning Bassan’s embrace. “Good to see you as well.”

“I sensed you in my mind last night,” said Byron’s son. “I knew you’d help us!”

The Rogue pried Bassan free and held him at arm’s length. “I helped, but your father is the one who brought you back here safely. You wouldn’t be here if not for him.”

Byron opened his mouth to protest. Piten shot him a look that implied silence and turned Bassan to face Byron. Receiving a light shove from the Rogue, his son moved to his side and pressed against Byron’s body. Patting his son’s shoulder, Byron offered Piten an appreciative grin.

You deserve the honor, not me
, the man thought.

Thank you.
Byron cleared his throat. “We thought you’d like to join us for the midday meal.”

Piten presented a bow. “I’d be happy to join you.”

They entered the dining hall together, Bassan firmly planted between the two men. The hall contained only a handful of personnel, which suited Byron. Despite the message sent out to the crew regarding the Rogue’s actions during the trip to the Vindicarn’s planet, he worried the men might harbor grudges toward the half-breed. It would take time for old resentments to die where the Vindicarn were concerned.

Byron selected a table in the corner and away from curious onlookers. The food was fresh and the three of them dove into their meals. His son inhaled half of his plate within minutes, which pleased Byron. A healthy appetite was a good sign.

Reaching for his glass, Byron met Piten’s eyes. The Rogue pointed his fork at Byron.

“So is it true?” he said. “You’re the pilot who destroyed that Vindicarn disrupter ship all those years ago?”

Swallowing his drink, Byron leaned back in his chair. “It’s true.”

The Rogue offered a wicked grin. “My mother told me about it when I was a child. The Vindicarn version had the pilot dying in the explosion. But I guess the version my father told her was accurate; the pilot lived.”