Warm sunlight filtered in from somewhere nearby, producing enough heat on Sabrina Devon's cheek to wake her. She yawned, then blinked in alarm. If the sun was up, she had overslept.
She opened her eyes to the sight of a white wall awash with morning sun, and it was only then that she realized she was not in her own bed, either in Palace Royal on Praxatillus or aboard the Wayship Khediva. Alarm turned to panic as she bolted upright, crying out as her head split with pain.
"Sabrina! Lie down," called a voice, as footsteps hurried toward her. Blinking through the red haze of pain, Sabrina identified Sehrian Haaron and his wife, Éllina. So she was on Praxatillus after all, she thought with relief.
"You're going to be fine," Haaron continued, as Éllina smoothed Sabrina's hair out of her face and added, "You just need to rest."
"Not again," Sabrina groaned, lying back against the pillows as her headache began to subside.
"Yes," Haaron said. "This time it was a considerable mercenary force. They had infiltrated our maintenance crews in the orbital shipyard. For a while we thought they might get away with it, but Scotty, as usual, did the unexpected." His voice turned faintly amused, yet somehow uneasy, as he spoke of her brother. Sabrina, familiar with the nuances of her friend's speech, recognized it as her cue to worry.
"Where's Scotty?" she demanded.
"He'll be fine," Éllina said. "Commander Rayland is with him, and Her Majesty is expected momentarily."
"Expected?" Sabrina asked, blinking at the halo the sunlight produced around Éllina's abundant red-gold hair. "Why isn't she here? Did—"
"They attempted to assassinate Tirqwin while stealing Khediva," Haaron said. "Her Majesty has been involved in rescuing and healing him. It has not been very long since we stood down from alert."
"Oh God, how long can we keep this up?" Sabrina moaned, before she could stop herself.
Haaron, who had been sharing shifts aboard Khediva with the Devons to help prevent Homeworld from stealing the Wayship back, sighed and shook his head. "Not much longer. They have grown crafty as well as desperate. They know that we are stretched thin already. All they have to do is provide enough distractions, and they will succeed. And ever since they determined that they cannot kidnap Tirqwin, their assassination attempts have been swift and vicious."
Sabrina closed her eyes. Flashes of memory from the night came to her, jumbled and frantic and full of fear. Yes, it had been a mercenary force that had boarded the Wayship, masquerading as a maintenance team checking her manual docking clamps. They had administered a precisely calculated shock of power, forcing Khediva off-line just long enough to board her. Sabrina, shaken awake by the jolt and Khediva's cut-off cry, had not taken the time to scramble into her combat armor, running to the airlock armed with a single blaster, expecting help in the form of Tirqwin, who would have felt the invasion through their link, and his wife, Queen Maratobia of Praxatillus, who was in turn linked to Tirqwin. But no help had come, and her solitary stand had been brief and useless.
"I blew it," she sighed. "If only I'd had my armor on."
"It's not conducive to sleep, is it?" Haaron said, smiling. "It's all right, Sabrina. No one blames you."
"I should have hit the manual intruder defenses—or set off the distress beacon—or—"
"Don't think about it now," Éllina advised.
"What happened to Scotty?"
Haaron grinned a little. "I am devoutly glad I was not involved in his piloting instruction. It must have been a heart-stopping task."
"No, don't tell me. I don't want to know. He's all right?"
"He is in surgery, but the doctors are confident. And Her Majesty is coming," Haaron assured her.
"Her Majesty is here," Maratobia corrected as she entered the room, her silken skirts, still in purple mourning for her murdered father, whispering around her and her raven hair falling down her back in disarray. She looked tired and drawn, her violet eyes too large in her pale face, but she mustered a reassuring smile for Sabrina as she perched on the edge of the bed and laid a hand on her forehead. Sabrina felt a cool comfort flood through her as Mara called on the power of the Great Crystal to speed her healing.
"Thank you," Sabrina sighed in relief as her pain faded. "Is Tirqwin all right? Khediva?"
"Yes, and yes," Mara replied. "Tirqwin is aboard Khediva right now, inspecting the damage, but he will come to see you as soon as he is finished. He is very grateful and wants to thank you in person—but I suspect he needs to calm down a little before doing so."
"Damage?" Sabrina asked, puzzled. "There was no damage. They took me out, and then they had Khediva—they wouldn't damage her."
"Sabrina," Mara said, frowning, "don't you remember? According to Khediva's internal records, after you were hit, you blasted the main control console. It was the delay in gaining control that allowed Scotty's team to retake her."
"I did what?" Sabrina gasped. She closed her eyes. "Destroying the village to save it. God, I must have been out of it. Tirqwin must be ready to shoot me."
"On the contrary. He is quite in despair at how to suitably reward you," Mara smiled. "Now, I must go and look at Scotty's burns. We can't have our dashing Captain Devon swathed in bandages indefinitely."
"I'll come with you," Sabrina said, sitting up.
"No," Mara said. "Not for a moment." She looked at Haaron, who came forward and took Sabrina's arm, stopping her from getting up as Mara hurried into the next room.
"Let me go," Sabrina said irritably.
"You can't do any good in there, Sabrina," Éllina said.
The three of them looked up eagerly as the inner door opened and Commander Rayland entered, moving slowly with his cane, his newly cloned arm still a surprise to Sabrina every time she saw it. His face was lined with the tragedies of his world's collapse and struggle, but there was kindness in the glance he gave her. "Your brother will recover," he told her. "I do not know of anyone else in the universe who would have attempted what he did. It almost makes me glad of my enforced leave." He smiled grimly. "It is terrifying to command such unquestioning loyalty, such fearless determination. Mukryilla is furious with him."
Sabrina didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "He's so young," she faltered, after a pause.
"You are both so young, my dear," Rayland smiled, holding out his new arm. "Come along and see him."
Sabrina took his arm gladly as she slid out of the bed, reflecting on the incongruity of padding along barefoot in her comfortable cotton T-shirt and leggings on the arm of this courtly old prince in the uniform that seemed as natural to him as his own skin.
The intensive care ward had no windows; the light was strong but artificial, as different from the other ward as the odors were. Here she could smell charred flesh, antiseptic, and other less identifiable chemicals—and, strangely strong, Mara's floral perfume. Sabrina and Rayland went to where Mara was standing over Scotty's bed, smiling down at him as she removed her hands from his face.
"There," Mara said. "Better?"
"It itches," Scotty complained.
"Is that all?" Sabrina said in astonishment, catching her first glimpse of him. He was smeared with blood and burns, but his grin was in place, and his blue eyes were bright and alert. "Now who looks like hell?"
Scotty gave a short bark of laughter. "Oh, you optimist! I feel much worse than that!"
Sabrina gave a wry smile at their customary joke, then felt a sharp pang at the fact that they did this often enough to have a custom about it. I will not cry. "Well, they keep telling me you'll live, despite your best efforts."
"Hey, I got a reputation to live up to," he grinned. "Captain Devon, hero to millions!"
"Not to mention, suicidal maniac," Sabrina retorted.
"Hah. I'm not the one who blasted Khediva's controls," Scotty shot back. "Wait 'til Tirq gets hold of you!"
"No quarreling," Mara said. "Scotty, here comes your superior officer, doubtless with a few comments of her own. Subcommander, I'm afraid you can't have him back just yet."
"Good," Subcommander Treva nar Mukryilla said, folding her arms. "While he's in bed, I can relax." She looked at Scotty. "Either you are going to be the youngest Subcommander in Praxatillian history, or you are going to have one of the shortest lives in history. I haven't decided which."
Scotty gave her a salute, wiping the grin off his face with difficulty. "I take it you're pleased with my work, Subcommander?"
"Impudence isn't going to help your case," Mukryilla told him sternly. "You acted without my authorization. You've narrowly escaped one court-martial this year; please do not put me to the trouble of convening another one."
"Yes, ma'am."
Mukryilla considered him for a moment, still frowning. "I notice that you only seem to have this problem when it concerns Wayship Khediva. I am strongly considering forbidding you to go anywhere near her."
Scotty lost his flippant air, his expression hardening. "My loyalty to Khediva predates my commission oath. If you ask me to abandon her, I'll have to resign my commission."
Mukryilla sighed. "That is what I thought you would say. Don't give me cause to bring it up again, Captain, or you may find yourself doing just that. I don't care to command actively suicidal soldiers. They not only get themselves killed, they tend to get those around them killed. You got lucky. Lieutenant Carsfael did not."
Scotty's jaw dropped in horror. "But I thought—I ordered her to stay back—"
"She went after you when she saw you were in trouble," Mukryilla said.
"But I told her—"
"Now perhaps you can appreciate how I felt when I found out what you had done," Mukryilla said. "If you are not going to obey, you cannot expect to be obeyed." As she saw his expression, her own softened a little. "I am sorry you had to learn this lesson in such a harsh way. But then, perhaps that is the only way any of us ever do learn it." She paused again, then laid a hand on Scotty's shoulder. "It was a quick, painless death, and it served a purpose. None of us ask for more than that. She will probably not be the last to die under your command, but strive to make her so."
"Yes, ma'am," Scotty said hoarsely.
Mukryilla nodded, then glanced at Rayland, saluted Mara, and left. Sabrina glanced up and noticed Tirqwin standing behind Mara, frowning as he contemplated what he had just heard. "Tirqwin!" she said in relief.
He smiled at her, then at Scotty, and she was relieved to see Scotty look a little less crushed as he returned the smile. "Hey, Tirq," he said.
"Is this not going a bit far to be the center of attention?" Tirqwin inquired, looking at the crowd around the bed, which now included Haaron and Éllina as well.
Scotty tried to grin, but failed. Tirqwin sobered. "I thank you, for myself as well as for Khediva."
"I'm not the one you should be thanking," Scotty said.
Tirqwin laid a hand on his shoulder. "I hope it will be the last time I have cause to do so, believe me." He turned to Sabrina, kissing her forehead. "Thank you too, my dear."
She shook her head. "Don't thank me until we've put Khediva back together."
"You should all go and let Scotty rest," Rayland said into the silence that followed. Sabrina looked at him, and Rayland shook his head slightly. She realized that she couldn't give Scotty the advice and comfort he needed; Rayland, an experienced soldier and commander, could. She bent down and kissed Scotty's forehead. "Get better fast," she told him.
"Hey, Rina, smuggle me some real food," he called after her, as Tirqwin and Mara led her out of the room.