Page 123 of Star-Crossed Captive
“It’s okay,” Nia said, expression tight, but resigned. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt. I’ll go with them.”
“No.” The word was wrenched from Mace.
Thankfully, Betel didn’t seem to be listening to her. “She’s not going anywhere,” he said, his gravelly voice cutting through the sickbay.
“Stand down, Lieutenant. This isn’t any concern of yours. The charges have been formalized. She will stand trial.”
“Like hell.” Mace tried again to push himself up, this time moving his arms under his body.
“Mace, stay still.” Nia stepped toward him but stopped when the sound of a weapon charging echoed in the sickbay. “You’re going to rip your back open.” She replaced her hands on her head.
Steps moved toward her, and Betel pulled his weapon.
Nia shouted, “No!” at the same time Mace did. Shots echoed. Betel crumpled. Two warriors came into view, one grabbing her upper arm, the other holding bonds.
“Don’t touch her,” Mace shouted, pushing against the table.
“Sorry, Commander. We have our orders.”
“I rescind your orders.”
“You’ll have to go through proper channels, sir. We’re taking her.”
They pulled Nia to her feet, and she met his eyes with a wobbly expression before they took her out of sight.
His heart ripped from his chest. “Let her go!” He tried to scream the words, but they came out wrong. His back speared with pain as he raised himself.
The door slid shut on a whoosh.
“No!”
Mace struggled, ignoring the burning sensation through his spine, the tearing of newly formed flesh. He shifted his weight, bringing his legs to the side. Excruciating tingles shot to every part of his body. He had to get to Nia. He had to stop them. Nothing else mattered.
His feet swung over the edge. The sensation of his back ripping in two felled him. His legs gave out on a groan. He fell on top of Betel, his head hitting the deck with athunk. Pin prick stars dotted his vision, then blackness.
Mace tried to stay conscious, didn’t know how long he lay on his lifeless friend when the door opened again, feet hurrying toward him. “Nia?” he asked, voice hoarse.
Cache came into view. “You’re bleeding all over the place,” she said as she squatted beside him.
“Cache. What did you do?”
Her hands stilled in the air as they reached for him. “Fuck. You think I had something to do with this? I came here as soon as I heard, thought I could put a stop to it.” She rolled him to a seated position, pain lancing through his shoulders where she touched him. “Shit. Seriously, stop bleeding. That’s an order.”
On a groan and a hiss, she hoisted him up, her shoulder under his, staggering under his weight even though she was as tall as him. Cache leaned him against the med bed. Once he nodded he could stand on his own, she bent to check Betel’s pulse.
“Stunned.”
“If you didn’t issue the warrant, who did?” Mace wanted blood so bad he could taste it. For the charges to be formalized already, they would have had to be in the works since before theOrionop.
Cache’s face paled. “I thought you knew.”
Not much could faze Cache and the look she was giving him solidified the dread resting in his stomach. “Knew what?”
“The warrant came through Admiral Ricker. Foley’s behind it. He took her off station.”
Mace roared, blood rushing to his head. He pushed away from the bed.
“You can’t even walk, fuck, slow down.”
