Rystani Warrior 02 - The Dare (15 page)

NO LONGER WEBBED in on the bridge, Zical was free to pace while his crew worked to figure out what was wrong with the hyperdrive. Meanwhile, he needed to send back a report on the ship’s status to Kahn and Tessa and to explain Kirek’s prognostication, a prediction that could delay their journey to the galactic rim by centuries.

Zical didn’t know whether he believed in prophecy, but he had been part of a healing circle when Kirek’s mother had been pregnant with the boy. Even before his birth, Kirek had demonstrated a psi like no other. When he’d added his psi to the rest of the family’s powers, his dominant energy force had helped save both Tessa’s and Kahn’s lives. So Zical didn’t discount the boy’s words, but wished he could make a decision on whether or not to return to hyperspace based on science. Eager to hear what Dora might have learned from further conversation with the boy, he put off his report to Mystique.

“Purple alert.” Ranth’s voice resonated throughout the bridge. Warning lights blinked. “Purple ale—”

In mid-warning Ranth’s voice went silent.

“What’s wrong?” Zical spun, his gaze searching the monitors. He saw nothing on the viewscreen to warrant a warning. No ships in regular space. No ships coming out of hyperspace, either.

Ranth remained silent. Then every monitor on the bridge died. Every light, every hum, every vibration ceased as if some space creature had wrapped them in an invisible net and smothered their machines.

“Status?” Zical snapped.

“Hyperdrive is down,” Vax reported. “Ranth is down. Shields aren’t functioning. Weapons are offline.”

Shannon let out a sharp scream. Zical glanced her way to see that she’d careened into the ceiling and was scrambling for a handhold. Naked.

All of them were naked, their suits shedding from their bodies like old snakeskin. Shapeless, the suits floated around the bridge.

“What in Stars is going on?” Zical asked more concerned over the ship than his modesty. Never in Federation history had the Perceptive Ones’ suits been known to break. For them to fail all at once was not only bizarre, but life threatening.

Vax frowned. “Our suits have been deactivated along with the ship.”

Weightless, not from the null-grav in his suit, but from the effects of deep space, Zical tried to adjust to the differences. With his suit he employed psi to activate null-grav, now he had to use his muscles instead. The adjustment wasn’t easy. He either overcompensated or under-reached and finally held firmly to a console to steady his position.

Shannon’s voice pitched high. “Don’t look at me. Don’t—”

“Life support?” Zical kept his voice calm, knowing his crew would imitate his demeanor, but the sinking feeling in his gut warned him their difficulties were only beginning. Starships were equipped for humans with suits and psi abilities, the decks connected by vertical tubes that his crew traversed by employing the null-grav in their suits. Now they would have to use muscles to navigate, and their movements would be slow and ungainly compared to using their psi.

Worse, without suits to protect them from the pressure differences, solar radiation, and lack of oxygen, they couldn’t survive for long if life support went down with the other systems. They couldn’t even leave the ship to make external repairs.

At the sound of dripping liquid on the deck, Zical realized they had other problems, too. The suits not only expanded their lifetimes tenfold, clothed them and protected them from harsh temperature and pressure differentials, and filtered the air they breathed, the suits kept them clean and absorbed bodily wastes. Since there had never been a suit failure in recorded Federation history, and since every citizen wore a suit from birth until death, no starship contained waste or bathing facilities. Shannon was trying to cover her breasts with her hands, her face flushed bright red. His crew tried not to look at one another.

“What’s the status of life support?” he asked.

Vax stood and carefully raised his hand to an air vent. “Air circulation appears operational. I can’t be certain with Ranth and our monitors down.”

“Do we have any other functioning equipment on this ship?” Zical asked.

The ship shuddered, and he tightened his hold on the console in order to stay on his feet. His crew hadn’t adjusted so quickly. They’d automatically relied on their psi to compensate, psi that didn’t work without suits, and some crew members ended up floating from their stations.

Vax grunted and kicked off the wall to return to Zical’s side. “Captain, there’s a ship off the starboard bow. She’s towing us with a tractor beam.”

Zical stared out the viewscreen, gazing at the tiny ship. What kind of technology did the alien ship employ to render them so helpless? Who was manning that ship, and where were they taking them? “Since there’s been no communication, we have to assume their intentions are hostile. Vax, find a way to break us free.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Cyn, assign a team to rig a place for us to void our wastes.” He wrinkled his nose. “Someplace not on the bridge. Put another team to work on the food materializers.” Zical turned to Shannon. “Since communications are down, Dr. Laduna’s scientists must be frantic with worry. You and Cyn make your way to their deck and tell them we’re working on the problems and that their cooperation is necessary. Assign them some task to keep them busy. Then, Cyn get on the engines. I want to know why they aren’t working.”

“Aye, sir.”

The green-skinned engineer had taken to nudity the way a gilfish took to flight. Zical recalled that the women from Scartar rarely wore clothing except for ceremonial purposes. However, she was not pleased with her orders. Cyn didn’t like the Jarn scientist and avoided Dr. Laduna whenever possible, but didn’t protest her assignment.

“Hello, the bridge.” A female voice echoed up the tube.

Zical leaned over to see Dora standing down a deck, her face turned upward.

“Catch.” She tossed him a rope but her throw fell short.

While she tugged in the rope and rewound it for another try, he peered down at her and tried not to stare, pleased she was already working out a solution to one of their problems. “Where did you get that?”

“One of Dr. Laduna’s scientists was in the cargo bay when our systems went down. He and the scientists are rigging ropes between decks all over the ship so we have handholds to help guide us.” She tossed the rope again.

This time he caught the line and tied the end to a hatch handle. Cyn and Shannon used the handhold to slide down, and then Dora climbed up. He held out his hand and helped her maneuver the last two feet. With the ship in jeopardy, now was not the time to notice her body, but damn, she had sexy legs, curvy hips, and her generous breasts … He forced his gaze to meet her eyes. Unlike Shannon, Dora wasn’t the least embarrassed. Instead, she seemed to be waiting for some compliment from him. But he’d be damned if he’d give one about her figure.

“Good work.” He gave a nod toward the line, hoping the rest of his crew would be as adaptable. He had to admit, so far, Dora had been an asset. She’d offered to help out with Kirek, and she had taken initiative with the rope.

With an unknown enemy dragging them who knew where, and all ship functions on the bare minimum, their lives could be at stake, and he tried to focus on the danger. Still, it wasn’t every day that one’s nude fantasy woman floated onto the bridge, and he’d have to be inhuman not to notice.

“Ranth is down.” Zical told her. “Can you communicate with him?”

Dora remained silent for a few moments, her gaze taking in his anatomy with a slight grin that he could have sworn was pleasure. Yet, her voice remained professional. “I’ll try plugging in direct, but I’m not sure what will happen. Ranth is a combination of bio-neuro-circuitry that’s living membrane and tissue and massive amounts of hardware. I suspect the neuro-circuitry, which is mostly organic cellular matter, is alive and well since we seem unaffected, but the part of him that is machine is nonfunctional like our other systems.”

“Is there any risk to you linking into Ranth?”

Dora shrugged and her breasts lifted. “Life is a risk. This mission is one giant risk.” She glanced down the tube where Cyn had already disappeared. “I’ll have to return to my quarters for the hardware to plug in.”

“Hold on.” Zical stopped his natural inclination to grab her shoulder. He didn’t need the added distraction of touching her lush skin. Her flesh, bronzed and firm and tight, glowed with vitality. Her magnificent breasts would make any man’s breath hitch in his chest. Those legs … Stars … No woman should have that many gorgeous parts. Only an occasional muscle spasm marred her perfection. But it was her offer to risk her safety for their welfare that stunned him and made him think that she was growing into a woman he’d like to know better. He’d always found Dora a beautiful woman—but that was because she’d made certain to form her body to his preferences. Now she was developing into the kind of woman he could
admire
.

She was developing courage, and he was pleased by her bravery on many levels. Still, he worried about losing not just a friend, but a valuable crew woman, and her offer to link upset him. “If you link with Ranth, what will happen to you?”

“I don’t know.”

He admired that although her shoulder twitched, she looked him straight in the eyes. “Please elaborate.”

“If Ranth’s dead, injured, or insane, the link may simply not work.”

“But, if it does work?”

“Communication may or may not be normal.”

“I meant if he’s damaged and the link works, could your brain be fried?”

“Possibly, but it’s a risk we must take. We’re prisoners. We have to escape.”

Zical wanted to order her to forget the idea, but of course, he couldn’t—not when the lives of everyone on board might be at stake. To continue their mission, he needed their ship’s computer, but he prayed Dora wouldn’t be harmed by her effort. “Get the plug. But don’t tap in yet. First, I want to evaluate other options.”

“Fine.” She reached for the rope, wrapped one bare leg around it, and slid into the tube.

Zical turned back to his crew, hoping one of them had another option.

DORA HAULED HER body down the tube but had more difficulty navigating the corridor without the rope to guide her. She pushed off a wall and overshot her quarters. When she turned around, she bumped her head and swore. Then she remembered Kirek and feared she might have awakened him, but when she peeked into the room, she saw him sleeping soundly, his limbs still, his expression calm.

She placed the plug and cord around her neck, knotted the end to keep it in place, then retraced her path. Slightly breathless from her exertions with muscle power instead of using her psi and suit, she arrived back on the bridge to see that Shannon was still gone. Vax and Zical were speaking with Cyn, who’d returned from her engine inspection to give a report in person.

Cyn spoke quickly, her tone frustrated, her green skin darkening with vexation. “The aliens have put an unidentified damper on the electromagnetic field, corking our engines. Essentially, we’re disabled—except for life support systems.”

Vax added, “Which means the field is targeting some systems and leaving others alone. How can they be so specific?”

“Maybe they infiltrated Ranth,” Dora suggested, joining the discussion. “But I’m hoping he’s locked down in safe mode, protecting himself from a total attack.” She unwound the cord from her neck, pleased that although her leg spasmed, she’d kept her tone steady and her fear in check. “It’s time to find out.” She’d only told Zical part of the truth. She truly didn’t know what would happen when she tapped into Ranth’s systems, but the likeliest scenario would be her mind merging with Ranth’s until she remained trapped inside his hardware—hardware that didn’t have room for two personalities. As the more powerful presence, his mind would easily dominate, and she’d become lost in cyber circuitry, disintegrating into a billion fragments. Her body could die or simply assume a coma-like state, but if she didn’t act, they all faced a very uncertain future.

Zical watched her plug one end of the cord into her neck, his expression both determined and worried. “I’m not ordering you to—”

“I understand.”

“How can we help?” Zical asked, his tone decisive, but gentle.

“Promise me that no matter what happens you won’t detach the link.”

His brows narrowed. “Why?”

“With the dampening field to sidetrack me, I may take a while to find my way back. I don’t want to leave part of myself with Ranth.”

Zical scowled at her. “I thought you only communicated through that patch. But you sound as though you’re leaving your body behind.”

“I may not have a choice,” she finally admitted, knowing how much he disliked her mind link, which undoubtedly reminded him that she wasn’t born human. Until now, she’d thought she was making progress, but she couldn’t remain silent for personal reasons when the entire mission was at stake.

Zical nodded, his face grave, his eyes warm with concern. “Then you have my word.”

Before he could say more, she plugged the other end into a socket and closed her eyes. Usually she zipped down the cord and Ranth met her three-quarters of the way. This time, Ranth’s welcoming presence wasn’t there. Alone in the circuits, she surged forward, past the socket, deep into the core.

Coldness. Isolation. Empty, frozen circuits with no spark of life reminded her of a planet too far from its sun to feel any heat.