It was a mistake, nothing more than coincidence. Had to be.
Yet tonight Tal had openly acknowledged her, walked her off the ship in full view of at least a hundred officers and crew also bent on a night out on X-33. By the time they got back, the whole ship would know.
They already knew. After she spent the night with Tal on Tatarus, what else could they think?
Careful, careful. Fantasies, soft and fluffy; reality, full of stings and barbs.
The lift doors slid open, Tal ushered her out, keeping his arm around her waist as they turned right and headed down the long corridor toward Astarte's docking bay. He felt so good, so right. If they were headed for Tal's quarters instead of her own, she wasn't going to object. The goddess knew she'd tried to be sensible . . .
Show you a flash of crystal and silver, throw in a bottle of good wine . . .
Shut up!
Easy lay.
Kass sucked in a breath before telling her inner nag where to go when warning signals that had been flashing in her brain ever since they exited the lift finally kicked in. "Run!" she shouted, grabbing for Tal's hand just as something whizzed by her ear.
"Fyd!" Tal zigzagged down the corridor, pulling her with him. He tried the next door into the station. Locked. They glanced at the docking bays to their left. Dark and empty. Pounding feet behind them echoed clearly over their harsh breathing. Two men, armed and gaining ground. Kass's short legs were holding them back. Still running and zigging, she looked up. Two floors above, a gallery jutted out over the corridor they were on, part of a series of observation areas on the same level with Station Control.
Tal spoke into his comm unit, but no one from Astarte was going to reach them in time. A soft groan. Tal stumbled, kept running.
"Tal?"
"No problem. Keep moving!"
Once again, Kass looked up at the gallery. Could she? Dare she try?
A laser flash so close it singed her hair. She could smell the burn. They weren't going to make it.
Fyd! If only she hadn't had that third glass of yrak.
Failure wasn't an option.
And then they were sprawled on the gallery floor, lasers still flashing two stories down. Kass thrust her arm over Tal's back as he started to spring up, ready to run some more. "Keep down!" she hissed. "Let them search. They'll never guess where we've gone."
In the light filtering onto the gallery from the well-lit room behind them, Kass watched as Tal came to terms with what had happened. Stomachs to the floor, noses nearly touching, they stared at each other. "You did this?" he whispered, incredulous. "You can move people?"
"If I could move a krall, twelve conference chairs, and the wing of a Tau-15, whatever made you think I couldn't move people?"
"Just another perfectly ordinary Psyclid moment."
Kass didn't blame him for the sarcasm. She hadn't exactly been forthcoming about her talents. "No," she admitted, "it's not ordinary. In fact, I was really surprised the day I looked down one of those long corridors in the Archives and contemplated the long, long walk to the book I wanted. And then, voilà, I was there, looking up at the spot on the fourth shelf that held the book."
"Do you by any chance walk through walls?"
"Line of sight, Captain. As far as I know, none of us can dematerialize. That's technology, I think, not a psychic gift. A technology as yet beyond anyone's skill."
Below them, the voices and footsteps of their two bewildered attackers had faded away, replaced by the sound of raucous voices singing, laughter, the tromp of many feet, some less than steady, as crews began to return to their ships after a night on station. Over it all, Kass heard voices calling, "Captain! Kiolani!" Help had arrived.
She scrambled to her feet, leaned over the balcony railing. "Up here! The captain needs help."
"Mallick! You make me sound like I can't walk," Tal grumbled as he struggled to a sitting position.
"Look around, Captain. Your blood's making a river all the way to the edge of the gallery, so cut the stoicism and play nice."
His blue eyes cut through her stern glare. "Kiolani," he said softly, "I believe this makes us even."
Kass tugged up Tal's shirt and, scrunching it into a ball, pressed it against the free-flowing wound in his left shoulder. "I still owe you," she returned grimly as a groan escaped his gritted teeth. "But there's nothing like getting shot at to clear away the fantasies."
They barely had time to exchange a look of significant understanding when they were surrounded by a swarm of people from Astarte. Dorn Jorkan, Mical Turco, Anton Stagg, Joss Quint, more marines, an emergency med team, and . . . K'kadi? Kass scooted back to let the med techs work, her head swiveling toward her brother, who was obviously trying to communicate something urgent. Arms gesticulating wildly, he was jumping up and down, clearly totally frustrated by his inability to communicate.
"I'm sorry, dama," Stagg said. "We would have had to restrain to keep him from coming with us. No one told him, he just knew."
After a lingering look at Tal who, though pale, was now safely in good hands, Kass stood up and concentrated on her brother. K'kadi pointed down to the corridor below, where Tal had been shot, then back in the direction she and Tal had come from after exiting the lift. K'kadi's fingers formed an arrow, pointing, pointing, pointing. His azure eyes pleaded.
"Lieutenant Stagg," Kass said, "do you recall what happened earlier in K'kadi's quarters?"
"I do."
"I think he's trying to tell us he can track the two men who did this. I have no idea how, but he seems to have scanned what was going on, and now he wants you to go with him." Kass turned to her brother. "K'kadi, do I have that right?"
A vigorous nod. He reached for Stagg's hand. Tugged.
"On it." With a nod to Quint, the lieutenant turned and loped toward a whole squad of waiting, well-armed marines from Astarte. They followed K'kadi to the nearest lift.
Kass could only hope they made it to the docking bay level before station security showed up and endless explanations brought any hope of finding their attackers to an abrupt halt.
A flurry of movement as the med techs unfurled a skimmer pallet and gently hoisted Tal on board. They strapped him in, flat on his back. One of the techs pressed a button on a control module, and the pallet slowly rose to waist height. Reg waist height, Kass corrected. To her, the pallet was even with her shoulder. Tal's eyes were closed. She couldn't tell if he was unconscious or simply protecting his eyes from the bright lights as their entourage entered the interior of the station.
Kass took a position by Tal's head and stayed there all the way back to Astarte's medical bay. She waited and prayed to the goddess, while a team of doctors worked on his wound. Knowing his injury wasn't life-threatening didn't seem to be much help. She'd lost Tal Rigel once. Fear of losing him again overwhelmed her common sense, blackening her horizons, snatching at her soul.
And then she was sitting by his bed, waiting . . . watching . . . thinking . . . wondering. Tal. Jagan. The rebellion. Destiny. Soulmates. Somehow the puzzle fit together, but from the stark reality of a med room at midnight on the rim of the galaxy, the only appropriate word seemed to be preposterous.
Chapter 19
"Report." Tal lay back against the raised head of his med-bed and glared at Anton Stagg. The lieutenant did not look happy. "Consider Kiolani my alter ego," Tal added, as the marine glanced in her direction. "Speak freely."
Until the batani marine entered the room, Kass had been holding his hand, something Tal suspected she'd been doing all night, because she was still wearing the clingy dress that hugged every delicious curve. The one he'd vowed to strip off her before the evening was over. Fyd! The Fates had him on their hit list.
Maybe not. Tal's lips curled in a secret smile. Looking back on the events of last night, it would appear his little Psyclid had become his personal hidden asset, as well as his secret weapon against the Empire. She'd earned her right to highest security clearance.
Lieutenant Stagg, contrary to his customary military-efficient attitude, appeared to be having difficulty putting his thoughts together. He shifted his stance to parade rest, glanced at a spot above Tal's head before addressing him face to face in proper military mode. "I don't know if Dama Kiolani told you, Captain," he said, "but the Psyclid kid seems to have a built-in scanner in his head-he can locate people he knows, sense the presence of people he doesn't know."
Tal nodded. "Kass told me, but it's not easy to accept."
Lieutenant Stagg cleared his throat. "Well, evidently, K'kadi is also enough of an empath to sense emotions, particularly violent ones. He led us in an unerring line down the corridor until we reached a Taurian merchant ship. Big, well-armed, and roughed-up, like it had survived more than its share of hostiles. A smuggler, if I've ever seen one. The trail stopped there. K'kadi kept pointing at the ship, but when I asked him if he could identify the men by sight, the kid looked like he was going to cry. So no point summoning station security. That was it.