Chapter Twelve
When Roth arrived by shuttle to the explosion site, the scene outside the mine entrance could be described in one word—chaos. He could understand why; it was eerily reminiscent of the tragedy that had occurred in this very sector two decades earlier, though on a much smaller scale. Although he’d only been a boy at the time, he recognized the fear on the older men’s faces and knew they were haunted by the past.
As he got out, seeing neither Trask nor Lothar anywhere about, he took charge. After getting a status report, he directed the flow of the work teams inside and the injured to the med-triage tents set up outside, at a safe distance from the fire, smoke, and any subsequent explosions. As they worked, and things took on a more orderly degree of panic, he began to hear grumblings of a repetitive theme.
“You there,” he called to one of the warriors who was preparing to go back inside the mine after carrying an injured miner from the smoke-billowing entrance. “Get a mask and safety equipment on. You’ll be of no help if you join the count of the injured.”
“But the Princep, Commander, he’s fallen behind the roof collapse, and they need every man.”
“Equipment, first,” he barked as fingers of fear began to tighten around his heart. Kerr’s father had succumbed in the same fashion while trying to rescue injured from the mines after the Rain of Fire. To lose a leader in such a way couldn’t happen again. Rushing to the cart containing emergency equipment, he grabbed a breathing mask and helmet for himself, putting them on as he ran for the entry. As he arrived, a wave of men exited, one up front shouting, “Clear the path, Max Kerr is being brought out.”
Skidding to a halt, Roth waited with the other anxious onlookers for what seemed like an eternity as dozens of men streamed out, some choking on smoke with others helping them, and still more looking shaken, but walking under their own power. “Have a physic at the ready,” another called between hacking coughs as he rushed out. “The Princep has collapsed.”
A half-dozen men wearing the black and white tunics of the medical team moved forward with a stretcher and equipment at the ready.
Roth turned abruptly, scanning the crowd behind him until he found one of his men.
“Varo,” he shouted. “Have one of the shuttles on standby to fly the Princep out.”
“Wouldn’t it be faster to arrange for transport directly to the med-bay?” the warrior beside him asked.
“Not if he’s injured,” Roth replied. “His body won’t take the stress.”
“He’s right; the energy transfer could be further traumatizing to an extent he might never recover.” This came from Jarlan, who had arrived only moments ago. “Do we know anything about his injuries, Commander?”
“No, they are just now bringing him out.”
A group of four men, covered in a thick layer of green uladite dust appeared in the shored-up portal, carrying a makeshift stretcher between them. Jarlan rushed forward, physically pushing men aside to get to their injured leader. Roth turned and saw Varo waving from beside the first shuttle in the row off to the left. He took the path Jarlan had taken, watching as he bent over Kerr where they had laid him on the ground. He wasn’t moving.
“He’s critical, we need to move him now,” the physic said, urgency in his tone.
“I have a shuttle ready for liftoff,” Roth interjected.
“Emergency team, meet us there with supplies.” Trask, who crouched near Kerr’s head, called the order while signaling the others to lift the stretcher. Roth stepped up alongside the general, and they both moved worried bystanders aside to clear the path to the shuttle.
Once Kerr was loaded inside followed by Jarlan and the med-team, he moved forward and took the pilot’s seat himself, giving Varo orders as he did so.
“Stay and direct this chaos. Make sure they get the injured transported out by shuttle. Remember, no teleportation of anyone who isn’t 100 percent fit.”
“Lothar is on his way to take charge of the warriors in the rescue efforts,” Trask added as he strapped into the copilot’s seat.
Without waiting for a response, knowing the man could be trusted to follow through, Roth closed the doors and prepared immediately for liftoff.
As he piloted the small shuttle from the scene, he got an urgent call on his fleet channel. “Roth here.”
“Allon, Commander. I’m not sure how to say this, sir.”
“Spit it out, man. I’ve got my hands full here.”
“The alien ship, it’s gone.”
“What do you mean it’s gone?” Roth barked in alarm, shooting a look at Trask, who was equally stunned.
“We picked up a vessel departing space dock. Nothing was scheduled in or out today. Immediately, we tried to hail the captain on duty, but there was no response. The Reliant and Dauntless are still in port, and the Intrepid isn’t due back from its mission for some time. All our ships are accounted for, except the alien vessel.”
“What about the females?” he inquired, already knowing the answer.
“Also, gone.”
“All of them?” Trask snapped, and Roth knew he was most concerned about one female in particular.
“No, General, the first females, including your mate, remain, except the Prima and Ramekin’s mate. Neither can be located, so we suspect they are onboard the Earth ship as well.”
“Faex.” The general’s curse, kept low in deference to their injured passenger in back, held an ominous quality. “Kerr will be livid when he wakes. How did this happen?”
“In the chaos of the mine explosion, we pulled in extra pilots for the shuttles,” Roth deduced aloud. His gaze cut sharply right, meeting Trask’s.
“Obviously,” the general surmised, “it was a diversionary tactic.”
“Allon, what happened to our guards? We had sentries posted as per protocol.”
“We’ve already found many warriors who were stunned and restrained, sir. Both at the spaceport and here below.”
“What of Ram?”
“He has yet to be located, Commander.”
They shared another glance, suspicions rising. Ram had been having trouble with his mate, Eryn, from day one. Now she was one among the missing.
“How could they have gotten off the planet and onto the dock?” Trask demanded. “Are all the shuttles accounted for?”
“Yes, all responded to the distress calls at the mines.”
“Then how?” Roth repeated.
“We believe they teleported up. We found human blood at the center. But none of them had the skill to operate the controls.”
“They had to have had help,” Roth murmured.
“Yes, Commander. The city guard has already arrested a few suspects.”
As they topped a rise, Ariad came in sight, and Roth began to make his approach to the rooftop landing on the med-bay facility.
“I’ll take the Dauntless in pursuit, we’ll overtake their slower craft in hours,” he stated as he maneuvered the small craft, aligning it with the lighted landing pad.
“I’ll join you.” This from Trask.
Roth objected, “You are needed here in Kerr’s stead.”
“Krager will manage.” His voice dropped with his next words. “He knew, Roth. It all makes sense.”
“What are you saying? Who knew?”
“Kerr. I was standing beside him when he went down as though he’d been shot, clutching his chest like he was mortally wounded, yet there was no blood. I didn’t see any rocks, debris, or flames touch him, but as he fell, he called her name.” His hands clenched, becoming white-knuckled where he gripped the armrests of his pilot’s chair. “I predict the blood at the center turns out to be Eva’s.”
Incredulous, Roth stared straight ahead, trying for the softest touchdown while what the general was saying whirled round in his head. “That would mean…”
“Yes,” his friend finished for him. “They are more connected than any of us suspected.”
“Impossible.”
“No, although extremely rare,” Trask informed him. “I’ve read a few accounts of similar phenomena between fated mates.”
“But Kerr mentioned only the other day that she hadn’t transformed. She has none of his traits or his marking.”
“I know, yet it has to be so. What other explanation is there for a man as strong as Kerr, who is in perfect health, collapsing without cause before our eyes. And he knew: his last words before he lost consciousness were, ‘protect her for me.’”
“Fated mates,” Roth murmured. The connection between a fated pair was unbreakable. So much that a prolonged separation resulted in sickness, delirium, and ultimately death. “That means we don’t have much time.”
“She had better pray we have enough,” he replied, his fury palpable. “And that is why I am going with you, to honor his request, and to bring his treacherous mate back to do what is necessary to save him.”