"You Rotted well can't stay here."
Kaylla paled, slipping to the ground, a sour expression on her face. "I'm not going," she gasped, shivering and clutching herself tightly. "I can't… face those men who……
Staffa bowed his head. "No, I suppose not. But where can you go? There's a Regan death warrant out for you. You've got to evacuate the planet."
Magister Bruen shook his head. "Such a mess we've all made."
Staffa wet his lips, kneeling beside Kaylla. He searched her frightened eyes. "I can't help the past. I know what I've been… who I am. But there's a safe place for you in the
Itreatic Asteroids. A place where you can be alone, pursue the work you began on Maika. There will be no men, no terrors from the past."
He swallowed. "One time on Etaria, I told you I would restore you to Maika
if I could. I… I intend to see to that promise. "
She shook her head, hot tears beginning to leave streaks down sun-browned cheeks. "I…. No. " A trembling fist went to her mouth. "No. Maika is dead for me… as are so many that I… loved. I wouldn't go back there."
"We need you," Bruen added in his cracked ancient voice. "Humanity needs you. You must take my place. I know you, Kaylla. I know the power of your mind, the way you have been tempered. The Seddi need someone of your capabilities, your strength. "
"Let me…. I must think."
Staffa straightened, feeling the fingers of the ghouls stroking at the back of his mind. He looked up, spotting the familiar contrails of assault craft in the ionosphere. He watched with approval as his lean-winged craft made a standard double-cover approach. The deadly wedges shimmered behind energy shielding as they settled around the clearing.
Staffa marched out to meet the first craft to land on the trampled valley grass before Makarta. The forward ramp dropped and Ryman Ark's trained people hit the ground at a run, their figures shimmering and indistinct behind the energy barriers. They deployed with weapons at the ready.
"Crack team," Staffa heard Mac mutter behind him. Staffa grinned as Ark trotted forward in full assault gear, his black face grim. Staffa shook his head, laughing with relief. "What? No finger ID necessary? You're slipping, Ark. '
"Been a while, Chief." Ark's lips curled into a smile as they hugged each other, pounding backs. Ark finally pushed back, a quizzical look on his face. "How in five Rotted hells did you get into this mess anyway?"
"It's a long story. How's Skyla?" he asked, a sudden lump in his throat.
Ark frowned. "I…. Rotted Gods, Lord Commander, I don't know. She was frantic getting us here. Regular tyrant.
Then, as we closed… I don't know. She tightened up. Clammed up hard as a Riparian shellfish. When I left the bridge, well, would you believe she was wringing her hands? That one?"
"All right, load up. Let's blow this rock and 1 want that tunnel over there blasted on the way out."
"Got something hidden in there?" Ark mused thoughtfully.
"An obsession. One I must come back to someday." The Mag Comm's presence tickled at his mind, beckoning.
He turned, watching hudded knots of Regan soldiers where they muttered to each other, MacRuder at the center of the largest circle, arms moving passionately.
"Looks like quite a haul," Ark muttered, indicating the Regans.
"They bought their freedom already." Staffa lifted a shoulder. "Some may be coming with us."
"Good fighters, huh?" Ark had his hands propped on his hips.
"Damn good. Maybe the makings of our equals," Staffa brooded. "I'd rather have them with us than against us. A lot has changed in ree Space." He paused. "I have a mind to blast Rysta's ship to plasma."
"Why? Rysta can't hold a candle to us," Ark scoffed, kicking at the black dirt.
"I'm not worried about Rysta, but I am about a Regan First who's aboard Gyton. His name is Sinklar Fist." A cold foreboding clutched at Staffa. "And I've got a terrible feeling we're going to be staring at him over blasters one of these days soon."
Staffa greeted the members of his crew who monitored the lock as he stepped out of the hatch of Ryman's assault ship after it settled gently into its hull dock.
"Welcome aboard, sir," one of the techs greeted.
"Good to be home." Staffa stopped for a moment, placing his hand against Chrysla's sturdy bulkheads.
"Lord Commander?" Skyla's voice called down from the speaker. "Could I see you as soon as possible?"
Staffa glanced up at the pickup. "What's the situation with Rysta's fleet?"
"Tap has them in his sights. At the first sign of trouble, he's got orders to blow Gyton into junk. Same with the rest of her ships. I suggest we conclude whatever business is necessary and space at the first opportunity. We could
be sitting ducks if Rysta gets a message off to Tybalt."
"Good work Wing Commander. Meet me in my quarters as soon as possible." He thumped a gloved fist against the hull and added, "I'll be there as soon as I check on something."
"Affirmative. Stay out of trouble."
Staffa chuckled, anticipation of seeing Skyla rising in his breast. But first… He took a right down a lighted corridor and entered the main bay. Across the large compartment, MacRuder stood with the last of the Targan troops awaiting transshipment to the Regan transports. Behind them, the status light on the large oblong shuttle lock indicated that it was pressurizing. Armed Companions stood around the periphery, alert for trouble.
As Staffa approached, Mac grinned and stepped away from his troops. Mac stopped uncomfortably, blue eyes meeting Staffa's levelly.
"You're ready to go?"
Mac nodded. "Yes. I guess it just had to be this way. I hoped I'd see you, get to thank you again. I'll never forget what you did down there. Pleading like that for our lives when we would have killed you outright. You're not the monster I grew up believing in. You and Sink. you're a lot alike. Damn it, why do you have be on opposite sides?"
Staffa smiled grimly. "The time has come for a new way of thinking. You didn't deserve to die like that." He hesitated. "Are you sure you won't come with us? I liked the way you handled yourself down there in the darkness. Men and women of your caliber deserve more than Rega will give you."
MacRuder frowned and stuck thumbs in his equipment belt. "I can't be part of the Seddi. I saw what they did on Targa." He lifted a hand to stifle Staffa's protest. "Bruen and I had a long talk on the way up, and I know why he did what he did. But knowing intellectually and having lived through it are two different things. I can't forgive him for
the suffering. I can't forget Gretta's body in that cell-all the men and women who died on that ball of rock. " He shook his head. "It wasn't worth it."
"I'm not asking you to be Seddi. I'm asking you to join the Companions, to help me stop the coming war, and maybe to help all humanity find a dream. We've made ourselves the enemy, when in reality it's the Forbidden Borders. Help me break them. Come with me."
MacRuder pursed his lips as he met Staffa's questioning gaze. "I'd like that, Lord Commander, and I sincerely appreciate your offer, but I owe Sinklar. I guess it all goes back to a Kaspan rooftop in the rain. He kept us alive. He kept me alive time after time down there. He tried to get us out. The only reason he left Makarta was because the Emperor ordered it." He looked pained. "If I turn my back now, all those people who died in Makarta trying to save us died for nothing. I can't have that on my conscience."
Staffa nodded his understanding. "You're a good man, MacRuder. You know, the chances are excellent we will meet again… in less friendly circumstances."
MacRuder nodded, a deep sadness reflected in his blue eyes. "I know. Perhaps it's up to these Seddi quanta." "Remember, Mac. You always have a place with us. If
you ever need to get in touch with me, use the code 'Makarta. ' "