Page 31 of Advance and Retreat (Dark Empire #6)

F or a moment, Laughter couldn’t respond. She’d been so sure Rorix and his Nobek sidekick would concoct an excuse to keep her from the expedition, she almost yelled at him anyway.

“Matara? Do you accept the post?”

“Yes.” She winced at the breathlessness of her tone. She stood and steadied herself. “Yes, Captain Rorix. I’m delighted for the opportunity. Thank you. How soon can I board the ship?”

“It’ll be ready for personnel to move aboard in five days, LDS Com Officer, but there’s no rush.”

LDS, for long distance system, Laughter surmised, pacing the tight space from the lounger to the sleeping mat and back. She wondered who’d oversee short and onboard coms. They’d have to train each other on their specialties.

She was so busy musing, she missed a little of Rorix speaking. “...leaving in two weeks. That’s Kalquorian weeks, which means—”

“Twenty days, yes sir.” Laughter had the mad urge to babble extra thanks and managed to rein it in. “Question, Captain?”

“Yes?”

“What’s EC-1122’s name?”

“Name? Oh, you’re referring to an Earther tradition, aren’t you.” Not a question, but a statement. He somehow managed not to scoff, though Laughter sensed he wanted to. “The Coydidak don’t name their ships. We have no need to personalize machinery.”

“Humans tend to see our ships differently, especially those we spend the better part of our lives on. Inanimate machinery or not, we regard them as entities deserving names. Just so you know the mindset of new members of your crew.” Having won the job, she saw herself as an ambassador to the Coydidak command on behalf of her people.

“ Explorer would fit as a name. Traveler or Expedition —”

“Call the damn ship whatever you like,” Rorix sighed. “I’ll see you in two weeks, LDS Lorenz.” He clicked off.

Laughter stared at the com unit in her hand. Had he really given her the assignment? Was she truly off to explore unknown reaches of space?

She shouted a victory cry, the sound wild and happy and ringing. Her arms flung to the ceiling of her little rental’s combined living and sleeping space. She bounced a few times, whooping in triumph as she beamed at a small, sealed urn she’d set on the tabletop in the middle of the room.

“We did it, Dad! We made it happen!”

* * * *

J edver

Piras wandered the tight, crowded confines of the saferoom.

He had nothing to do at the moment, unless he decided to look over the shoulders of his companions.

As an admiral and chief spy of their group, he had every excuse to check up on his team, and in Mereta’s case, his ward.

He understood all too well they wouldn’t appreciate it.

Grown, responsible people were like that.

He knew what each was up to. Lokmi was at work on a project to help them escape Jedver when they received word their ride had arrived...if it did.

The area had endured three weeks of intensive, door-to-door searches by the authorities.

Piras and his group had been forced to spend nearly an hour in the cramped secret space behind the wall while Dark-ridden security had torn Elcoger’s shop apart, as it had every establishment in a fifty-mile radius.

Finally, the hunt had tapered off, and the signal for rescue had been sent.

There’d been no answer in the five days since.

Kila monitored the com system tirelessly, intent on responding as soon as the Adrafs decided to reply.

Meanwhile, Hope monitored the vids drones sent back of the city, watching for any advance on their position in case another round of searches in their area commenced.

Mereta sat alone in a corner, often appearing to meditate.

Not quite alone, Piras amended. Mereta kept the containment imprisoning the Dark Lokmi had removed from him nearby. The secretary-general’s fascination with the creature appeared almost obsessive, to the point Piras had questioned him on the matter.

“It’s lonely,” Mereta had responded. “First separated from the All, now from me and the Universal Spirit...I hope at least being able to see I’m near gives it some comfort.”

“Comfort? To that ?”

“It’s birthed from a malign, malicious entity, but it’s still a living creature.” A ghost of a sad smile had drifted across Mereta’s lips. “I have reason to believe it’s had second thoughts about its previous tasks on behalf of its source.”

“Enough to excuse its actions?” Piras couldn’t contain his shocked disbelief.

“No. It’s still very much a part of the All. Second thoughts or not, it would have obeyed its source’s will to guarantee my execution and continue the mission to destroy all sentient life in this dimension. But it has shown potential for evolvement, given time.”

At least Mereta’s spiritual bent and sympathy didn’t keep him from realizing the Dark’s continued threat. Nonetheless, Clan Piras kept a close eye on him. Lokmi had gone the extra step of coding the containment prison so Mereta couldn’t release the thing.

Piras passed the corner where the spiritual master sat contemplating his would-be Dark disciple.

He trekked along the aisle of shelves and their bins of components on either side of him in metallic rows.

Down one row to the Dramok’s right, Lokmi sat on the floor in the midst of a scatter of materials for his project.

Piras might have pointed out it would damned hard for him to gather up the mess and hide it quickly if a surprise search were conducted, but Hope was keeping a close eye on the situation outside.

They’d have plenty of warning if another hunting expedition showed up.

She was in the next row on his left, marching up and down it as she restlessly scanned nearly a dozen holo monitors.

She and Lokmi had sequestered themselves amongst the shelves so as to not be disturbed during their work.

Since his Matara had already acknowledged him as he’d paced the saferoom, she ignored Piras’ latest passing to keep an eye on the footage from her hovering spies.

Kila had the most spacious area. A small bed in the back was his ad hoc desk, his computer scanning frequencies for the com they hoped would come soon. He sat on the other bed before it, his eyes closed in concentration as he listened to whatever came through his earpiece.

The trouble with being a leader who knew how to delegate jobs to those most qualified to do them was Piras had nothing left to occupy himself.

The boredom was driving him nuts. He realized his incessant pacing was probably making his team crazy too, but he wasn’t the type to sit in contemplation or budding friendship with the enemy like Mereta.

He also wouldn’t barge in on the work his clan was doing perfectly well absent his input.

He’d asked and been told, appreciatively but firmly, they had their various tasks under control.

As he paused at last in the middle of the stockroom’s rear area, sifting through tasks he might do to occupy his mind no matter how mundane, movement at the corner of his vision caught his attention. He turned his head.

He started at the sight of a silver hand seemingly materializing from the wall on his right, on the opposite side of the room where Kila sat. It wasn’t coming through the wall...it was emerging from the secret space where they’d hidden during the Darks’ search for Mereta.

The silver hand could be explained easily. One or both of the Beonid twins were in a place they supposedly weren’t aware existed, according to Elcoger.

The pair had been in the room earlier to unbox a shipment. Piras remembered seeing the male Ershma as he’d departed through the door to the main shop area, though he’d been busy speaking to Lokmi about his project. Piras hadn’t noted Ivad’s exit and had assumed she’d gone ahead of her brother.

He glanced at Kila. The Nobek’s gaze, also trained on the waving hand, though it would barely be noticeable from his position, met his. He rose from his seat.

Piras shook his head, motioned him to stay quiet. The summons was for him, and he wanted to know what Ivad was up to. Getting her to talk while a protective and threatening Nobek loomed close might shut her up.

Kila grimaced, clearly not liking the situation. He remained standing but didn’t move from the spot.

Piras walked slowly toward the slight gap where the wall opened, angling his approach so he could identify the interloper before getting too close.

He caught sight of Ivad’s smiling face, which lit brighter when she saw him.

Her hands were empty. She appeared to have no weaponry on her person.

He’d have been able to see it if she did.

Her clothing was scandalously tight to anyone who wasn’t a Plasian or Beonid, a fact he’d noted almost absentmindedly when she’d been unpacking bins.

“Come here.” Her breath of a voice barely reached him as she urged him closer.

He did so, though he had a sick sensation in his gut and not merely because she might have seen Mereta unphase after they’d thought the coast was clear.

Since Piras’ arrival, Ivad had given him looks and made flirtatious comments that, while not overt enough for Hope to do more than glare at her, had made him uneasy.

He hoped the Beonid had important intel to share.

It was why he came a couple feet from the opening before stopping.

“Ivad, why are you in there?” He kept his voice low.

“Waiting for you to notice me, silly Dramok. You’ve walked back here three times and failed to do so. It’s rather insulting.”

Kila would have a fit to realize he’d missed Ivad sneaking into the space unobserved.

The Nobek had been intent on fixing one of Hope’s monitors, which had stopped working, while the Beonids had been present.

He’d been monitoring the com signal at the same time.

Too many distractions had left them vulnerable, had Ivad’s intentions been deadly.