“We are already on our way to you and are traveling at top speed.”
“Thank you.” Even at top speed, they were still a month away. “How long can they survive in one of those pods?”
“The pods have enough oxygen and rations to sustain life for…” He muttered something in his language. “For two of your Earth months.”
Relief rushed through her. “Good.”
“They were designed in such a way to provide those inside with adequate time to either reach their chosen destination or locate a habitable planet on which they can seek shelter.”
“My friends can’t do that. They don’t know how to pilot those things.” The Lasarans had only schooled them on how to activate the distress call beacon, how to calculate the rations they should consume each day, and how to use the weird space toilet inside it.
“As soon as we lock onto their beacon, one of my men can remote pilot the pods for them. The Lasarans have given us the override codes.”
“Good.” At least they would have a fighting chance.
Dagon fell silent once more. Every once in a while, she could hear him speaking softly to the men on what she assumed was the bridge of his ship.
Fear kept trying to creep in and choke her. Eliana steadfastly pushed it back and turned her mind toward finding her friends.
A thought occurred to her. “Will talking to me keep you from receiving incoming communications from someone else or detecting distress beacons?” Though she had spent four months aboard the Lasaran ship, she still knew little about how one operated.
“No. My communications officer can continue to search for the others while we speak.”
“Who is your comms officer?” she asked curiously.
“Janek.”
“Can the other people on your bridge hear us talking?”
“Yes.”
“Hey, Janek?” she called.
All background conversation ceased.
“Yes, Earthling?”
Despite the gravity of her situation, she laughed… then wished she hadn’t when the pain in her side multiplied. “Being called Earthling is just too weird. Call me Eliana.”
A pause ensued. “Yes, Eliana?”
“Were you the one who spoke to me before Dagon did?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you for waking me.”
Another pause. “You are welcome, Eliana.”
“No matter what happens to me, please keep searching for my friends, okay? You all seem like good guys. So if I can’t save them, I want you to.”
“I am searching for them now,” he assured her.
“Thank you.”
Eliana stared at the stars. She had twenty-six hours of oxygen, and Dagon’s ship was a month away.
Correction. She had a little less than twenty-six hours of oxygen since she had been speaking to them for several minutes. “Dagon?”
“Yes?” he responded instantly.
“I’m going to try to slow my heart rate and sleep for a bit. Would you please keep the comm link open so I can hear you?” She was more afraid than she was letting on and didn’t want to lose the connection to them even for a second, terrified she might not get it back. “You don’t have to speak English or anything. I just…” Tears threatened once more, but she kept them from altering her voice. “It’s never quiet where I’m from.” Especially since she had preternaturally sharp hearing. “And I’m guessing deep space is completely silent.” The last thing she needed was for that silence to close in and make her feel more alone.
“We will keep communications open.”
He had a nice voice. A very telling voice. She didn’t have to see him to know that his inability to save her upset him.
“Thank you.”
Closing her eyes, she tried to clear her mind and block out the pain. The latter was pretty damn difficult. The peculiar symbiotic virus that infected her was healing what damage it could. The bleeding lessened. One broken rib slowly shifted back into position in torturously small increments.
Eliana listened to the activity on Dagon’s ship.
Her breathing slowed.
Her heart rate decreased.
And consciousness gradually slipped away.
Dagon stood in the center of a circular room. The only furniture in it was a padded bench that hugged the wall all the way around. Breath slow, he waited… and tried once more to turn his mind away from the Earth woman he had failed to save.
A flicker of movement drew his eyes to one side. The wall to his right seemed to shimmer faintly. Spinning, Dagon struck out with his sword and hit metal where there appeared to be none.
A curse filled the air, not his own.
He swung his weapon again and again, each time striking his invisible target. He straightened his free arm. The armor protecting it elongated into a chain that slipped down through his fingers and formed a heavy metal ball on the end. In battle, the ball would be covered in spikes. But now it was smooth.
He swung his sword, then spun and let the ball fly in an arc.
His target grunted when the ball hit.
Barus flickered into view as his camouflage failed. Bending forward, he breathed heavily through his mouth. “I’m glad you didn’t hit me any lower with that.”
Dagon tried but could find no smile. The ball and chain retracted, merging back into the armor on his forearm. Crossing to the low bench that circled the room, he picked up the scabbard and slid his sword home.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Barus said behind him.
His words did little to ease Dagon’s troubled spirit. “I am aware.”
“The Earth woman was too far away.”
And she had died alone.
Three days had passed since he had spoken to her. Her oxygen supply had long since run out. But she had not made a single sound. She had wept no tears. She had not begged them to come faster. She had not gasped or struggled to find her last breath. She had simply… slipped away.
Every man on the bridge had grown tenser as that twenty-sixth hour had approached. Though the comms that linked them remained open, they had heard nothing from her since she had told him she was going to sleep for a bit.
No other ships had been closer.
None could have saved her.
“Take comfort,” his friend and second-in-command said gently, “in knowing she must have died of her wounds in her sleep. It was the most merciful death she could have found in her situation.”
Dagon nodded, knowing it was true. He also took comfort in knowing that if she had died in her sleep, she had died unafraid. “She was not what I expected of an Earthling.”
Barus nodded. “The Sectas described them as a primitive, warring society full of people quick to hate anyone who was different. The fact that they captured and tortured the Lasaran princess confirmed that.”
“And yet Eliana risked her life to save countless Lasaran men and women.” Dagon had spoken with Tiran, commander of the Lasaran ship Tarakona. The two of them had become friends after being brought together in the biannual war games conducted to train Lasarans, Yona, Segonians, and additional Alliance forces to fight together in battle against the Gathendiens and other enemies. According to Tiran, some Lasaran escape pods had been recovered. And many of the Lasarans inside them had credited Eliana with getting them there swiftly and saving their lives. “She was very brave.”