Trist took up position in front of the door and placed his hand on his comm. “This is Trist. Report.”
Nothing but static answered him and he drew his ion blaster. I didn’t have one, as Trist had pointed out—with great pleasure—that I was a doctor, not a warrior.
Well, fark that.
I jogged to the S-Gen machine. “Ion blaster, gradient zero-one-zero.”
“Authorization code?” The computer buzzed and Trist turned to me with shock in his eyes. I ignored him.
“This is Doctor Valck Brax, Intelligence Core, clearance level zero-one-zero, access code Earth Miranda Doyle.”
“Voice confirmed. Code correct. Complete biometric scan.”
“Brax, what are you doing?” Miranda was moving closer, wringing her hands before her as she glanced to the children. “And why did you say my name?”
“I’m protecting you.” Apparently, all of my code clearances were still in the Coalition Fleet’s system, and thank the gods for that. If this ship had communication blackout by Hive attack forces, I wouldn’t have been able to access a weapon unless my information was already stored in their system.
I stepped onto the black scanner pad lined with bright green bars and waited. This part always burned a bit, as the scan was more intense than the normal used for clothing measurements. Not many knew the scanners were also capable of becoming transport pads, but Trist would know. As did I. And the weapon I’d requested was way above a doctor’s grade, reserved for Intelligence Core operations or battleship commanders.
As for the access code Earth Miranda Doyle, it was the one I’d been using for the last two years since her arrival on Trion with Natalie and baby Noah. My obsession with her did not weaken or fade with time. I didn’t want to talk about that. Not right now.
The S-Gen machine’s bright green light faded. “Scan complete. Please clear transport pad.”
I stepped back and waited as a special black weapon appeared. Not a typical ion blaster, this one could ionize an enemy completely. Not simply injure or burn, but turn an enemy into particles smaller than dust. They were top level clearance only. Even Trist didn’t have one. They were not battle issue, as the I.C. did not want them falling into the hands of our enemy Hive.
I wrapped my fingers around the handle and grinned at Trist, raising my brows. “So, what’s this alarm all about?”
“You lied to me, Doctor,” he said, his voice calm and accusatory, even with the alarm blaring.
I shook my head. “You banished me to private quarters and didn’t bother to ask about my background.”
His eyes narrowed. “We will discuss this later.”
The young Prillon boy made his way to my side, and I shifted my attention to him. “Do you know how to use that blaster?”
He looked offended, which had been my intention. Better angry than scared. “Of course. My fathers have taught me well.”
“Good.” I nodded and put my hand on his shoulder. “Take the rear and be ready in case they transport in behind Lady Treval or the other children.”
“Who? In case who transports in?” Miranda asked as she watched the young warrior reassure his little sister before moving into position behind her and the other three much younger children. The Prillon boy pulled his blaster from where it had been strapped to his thigh—clearly not a practice weapon—and turned his back on us, watching the other side of the room. Good lad. Well-trained.
“The Hive, mate. Remember the other day when we were in the command deck and there was talk of ships disappearing? I fear this ship is their next target.” Trist looked at me and I returned my attention to the door.
“Comms are dead?” I asked.
“Yes.” His dark look said it all. We’d be fighting our way out of here.
13
Miranda
* * *
What the hell was going on? I’d never heard that sound before, but I instinctually knew it wasn’t good. Not the way Brax and Trist were behaving. The way the children stopped what they were doing and lined up quietly. Orderly. It reminded me of a fire drill in elementary school on Earth. But we weren’t walking outside. There was no outside.
The fire department wasn’t coming. The Hive was.
Here? On this ship? On this silly little ship where I was baking cookies? Even now the scent of vanilla and cinnamon Snickerdoodles filled the air. Damn Hive. They were going to try to hurt us, and they were going to make me burn my cookies. Okay, I shouldn’t be so flippant about the Hive, especially with children here.