Jeanne G'Fellers - No Sister of Mine by Jeanne G'Fellers (the rosie project .txt) 📕

around. “I once heard a story about a woman who died when she looked back to witness the destruction of a city. Best not tempt fate.”

“Sounds like one of Krell’s stories from the ancient human colony.” Tatra glowered at him but remained facing forward.

“It is one of my stories, Tatra. It’s about a man named Lot and his wife who turned to a pillar of salt for being sick-minded enough to watch the death of others.” Krell rotated the pilot’s seat. “We’re clear of Langus. The Predator has signaled. It’ll be here within the hour. Not a word from either of you about LaRenna not being with us. I’ll tell her raisers myself. It’s my duty.” Krell glanced around the craft in search of their baggage. If nothing else, LaRenna’s personal effects might provide some comfort. “Where’s our stuff?”

“I think we left it on the platform,” replied Firman.

“Oh.” Krell turned back to the controls and sank back in her seat, crying softly. It wasn’t that the material items mattered, but they had been tangible. They were all she had possessed of LaRenna and now they, too, were gone.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Necessity can make competitors into coconspirators.

—Taelach wisdom

Third Engineer Malley Whellen stood at her station, reading the updates on the Iralian fleet’s position. Master Engineer Freena Ockson, her lengthy braids looped neatly behind one ear, pushed past her, rushing here and there in final preparations for battle. “Anything new, Whellen?” Ockson was elbow deep in fine-tuning the Predator’s forward shield array.

“We seem to be faring well,” replied Malley. “The largest of the Iralian ships has been crippled. It’s retreated behind the boundary line.”

“Thanks be to the Mother for that small miracle,” said Ockson wistfully. “I was hoping for something good to tell Grandmaster Exzal. You schooled with her daughter, didn’t you?”

“Yes, Master Ockson, I did.”

“Pity to lose one so young.”

“What?” Malley spun around.

“Hadn’t you heard? She was posted on Langus.”

“Oh my.” Malley fell hard against the wall. Ockson assisted her to a seat at the deck’s massive worktable.

“I wouldn’t have told you if I had known it would affect you so, child.” Ockson looked sympathetically at Malley. “You knew her well?”

“We roomed together for over three passes.” Malley’s stomach churned. “I never got to tell her goodbye at the Training Grounds.”

“You have my deepest sympathies. I’m sure she was a good friend.” Ockson helped Malley into a seat. “Was your relationship with—” The deck lift doors slid open and both engineers came to attention, Malley sniffling as Belsas came on deck.

“Grandmaster Exzal!” Ockson held a tight salute Belsas quickly returned. “There is good news to report. The Blackmore has been heavily damaged. She’s retreated her position.”

“That is good to hear. At rest, Engineers. Return to your duties.” Belsas took the worktable’s lead chair, letting the others situate themselves before speaking. Malley, as required, stepped back to her workstation but kept an ear to the discussion.

“Let me introduce my companions,” said Belsas with a wide sweep of her arm. “You know my life mate, Chandrey Belsas.” Ockson and Chandrey exchanged brief pleasantries. “Beside her is First Kimshee Krell Middle and, uh—”

Firman leaned across the table to shake Ockson’s hand. “Guess I’m literally the odd man out here,” he chuckled. “I’m Firman Middle, Assistant Hiring Hallmaster at what used to be South Coast Langus. It’s a pleasure.”

“Odd staff if I do say so, Belsas.” Ockson smiled wryly at her old friend. “This is my assistant, Third Engineer Malley Whellen.” Ockson patted the remaining seat at the table. “Sit, Whellen. You’ll fall over if you lean this direction any farther. Program your station screen to read at the table.”

“Thank you, Master Ockson.” Malley took her seat and kept her eyes focused on the screen.

Krell sat back. “Malley Whellen? The name is familiar.”

“It should be, Krell,” said Chandrey. “Malley is LaRenna’s best friend from the Training Grounds. How are you, Malley?”

“Devastated to hear about LaRenna,” Malley replied faintly. “I’ll miss her.”

“She’s not dead!” Krell pounded the table. “She’s very much alive. It’s just a matter of time until we find her.”

“Please excuse First Kimshee Middle’s shortness,” said Belsas. “Krell Middle is LaRenna’s intended. That’s why she and her brother are here. The Predator is going to lead the search for my daughter and those holding her captive.”

“Where do we begin?” asked Ockson, surprised the news had failed to relieve Malley. “There are an endless number of places they could be headed.”

“Sarian space wouldn’t be safe for them.” Krell pondered the envious glare she was receiving from Malley. “There was an Iralian in the group. We should begin by scanning for lone launches headed toward the system’s edge.”

“Whellen, initiate the necessary program. I’ll take the updates myself.” Ockson input a string of commands into her terminal. “Seems we have the Iralians on the defensive. Twelve ships destroyed. Ten theirs, two ours.”

“Either of them Taelach?” asked Belsas.

Firman raised his brows. “Does them being Autlach make the loss any less significant?” he asked.

“No, it doesn’t,” replied Belsas. “Any losses at all are too many. I do, however, need to know the status of my own forces.”

“Neither of them were Taelach vessels.” Ockson reviewed the crew manifests of the fallen ships. “But there were two Taelach officers serving on one and a Kimshee in transport on the other.”

“Master Ockson, I think I’ve found something.” Malley pushed away from the table. Ockson read her findings and clasped Malley’s back in congratulations. “Excellent work. Why don’t you transfer this to the wall viewer and share your discovery.”

Malley activated the wall screen behind the worktable and stood to one side. “At any time there are twenty thousand or more planetary launches in use.” Everyone nodded at what was common knowledge. “That would typically make tracing one almost impossible.”

“Get on with it, Third Officer,” said Krell. “Time is wasting.”

“However,” Malley’s voice rose against the disruption, “all nonmilitary traffic was suspended yesterday. That left only twenty-one launch flights on record. Only four of those are currently en route.” Malley tapped the