"This is your opportunity for an unconditional surrender. I promise no harm will come to you. In fact, we have big plans for all of us! I didn't realize how good you were at public speaking. We have a brand new indentured servitude contract for you to sign. Granted, the terms aren't the greatest, but since you don't hold any actualleverage—"
His voice cut off. The lights on the frigate flickered out, one by one, until the large ship went completely dark. It listed to the side, caught in the planet's gravity well.
"Ionic beam terminated," Vaelix said. "Time to bring everyone home, Torvyn."
The shuttle shot past the powerless frigates as the Starbreaker came into view. The ship rotated as the shuttle bay doors opened.
"Prepare for emergency landing and immediate slipspace jump," Torvyn said.
I braced myself across Kaedren, and Lyrin braced himself across me. We crunched into the floor as the shuttle skidded across the bay's landing pad, a loud metallic groan filling our ears. Then, the shuttle stopped moving, and the aft ramp slammed open.
"You are going to be okay," I whispered in Kaedren's ear. "You are strong, you will survive!"
Before I could say anything else, I was gently lifted off Kaedren as a team of medics loaded him onto a stretcher. It took eight of them to do it, but they pulled him off the shuttle and hustled him to the medical bay. Lyrin wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight.
"Kaedren's in good hands," he said.
I pushed him away. "I know, because I will be there with him."
I ran down the shuttle's ramp, Kaedren's purple blood still warm on my hands, following his stretcher into the ship.
Chapter 11
I stood outside the ship's surgical suite, watching helplessly through the large glass window. Kaedren lay unconscious on a bed in the center of the room as the ship's doctor, a small army of nurses, and the suite's robotic auto-doc worked over him in practiced coordination. The medical staff's white scrubs had been stained purple with his blood.
I looked down at my hands. They were the same color.
I wiped them on my pants, scrubbing hard, as if I could erase the evidence of what he'd given.
I leaned my head against the glass and closed my eyes. The ship was quiet. Unnaturally so. I'd expected noise after the failed mission, alarms, arguments, or frantic movement, but there was nothing. Word of Kaedren's injuries had spread across the Starbreaker like wildfire. He might have been the quietest, most stoic beast of a man I'd ever known, but everyone understood how large his heart was.
A young crewman stopped beside me. He didn't speak or ask anything. He simply watched the medical team work. He set a small tablet against the wall, pressed his hand briefly to the glass, and then left.
The screen displayed a short note, urging Kaedren to get well soon.
From the mission I planned.
This wasn't your fault.
I know. I'm not blaming myself.
This was Voss's fault.
He played his part.
Then why aren't you doing that thing you do?
Because there's a difference between choosing risk and choosing consequences. We chose risk, knowing there would be consequences. The only alternative would have been perfect foresight, contingencies for every possible trap, and that doesn't exist. We did the best we could.
So weagree...
I waited for the voice to continue, but she didn't. The silence inside my head matched the silence in the corridor. For once, we had nothing to argue about.
That should have felt like progress.
It didn't.
I pulled a data tablet from my pocket and scanned the post-mission report.
