HMS Valediction

Chapter 30.2

When I arrive, I try not to notice how many empty spaces define the small, gray room. Flatts. Grant. Birgar. All gone. We stand around the parameter in a circle, leaning up against the bulkhead and crossing our arms over our chests. The VIPERs are back in their menacing battle dress.

I choke down my hatred. Never again will I push my skin against the URE's colors. I don't serve them anymore.

I take my place in the circle. "Civilian casualty report?"

Coodi steps up and opens her PAHLM. My eyes widen in shock. I forgot that those were still functional.

Knuckles catches my eye. He opens his hand and tosses the contents to me.

It's my PAHLM. The old one he replaced back in the clinic when he first told me I was pregnant. The crack from my trip down the vents splits the tiny black device in two. Its crevice is rough against the pad of my thumb as I rub it like a lucky rabbit foot. It ignites, blue pixels warming my hand.

But I don't put it on.

"Sixteen civilians, two VIPER, and one officer."

"Nineteen. So we're at just under two thousand souls on board."

"Correct, Commander."

My mouth dries. I wish I had Kai's message to project on the wall so they'd know it's nothing I did or nothing I had control over. I wish there was something else I could say besides 'we're toast, folks.'

"There's been a development," I start lamely. No shit. "Captain Moon of the HMS Valediction has received a message from another ARC."

They bubble up in excitement. No, don't be happy. This is terrible. I'm about to become the harbinger of your destruction.

"It was a distress call. They've been taken hostage."

Their faces morph to soldier-mode. Resolute, they hear distress and they want to answer it with guns and fists. I know them so well. I am them.

The next part is so hard to describe—it catches in my lungs and hitches to my neck. I can't pull the words out, even if I were to stick my fingers down my throat and pry them out.

"Which one is it?" McCroy asks. There's a peck of fear in his question.

I can't speak. My mouth opens and I try to say the word. Four, I say in my mind. Four. Just say four. It's the one with the people that still matter.

Coodi must sense my distress. "Commander?" She steps forward into the center of the room. "Is it ARC9? Do they have Hayomo?"

Hayomo. My fists curl at my side. "No. It's not ARC9. It's ARC4."

Knuckles chuffs a sarcastic laugh. "Considering our last exchange with the noble ARC4, they must believe they're quite fucked."

I glare at him. "We have been given one opportunity to ensure their safe return to NOHA's caravan."

My VIPERs' attentiveness is my undoing. I absorb their eagerness, their solemnity—all except Knuckles—their readiness to leap into action. I can't do it. I can't tell them that the solution is so hopeless.

So don't.

A voice in my head rings out like a blaring alarm through the dead of the morning. The cracked PAHLM reflects light from the sconces surrounding us. It catches a ray and hits me square in the eye. There's always another way.

I grip it tight and cross my arms over my chest. "But we're not negotiating with those who hold our people's freedom for ransom. We didn't bust out of one prison to be holed up in another."