Page 22 of Star-Crossed Captive
“Of course not!” She winced at her honesty. “Just—” She stepped to the side again, allowing another person by, then glanced down the corridor. “Put me somewhere else.”Anywhere else.
“This is where you’re needed.” He ran an agitated hand through his hair. “You’ll have a four-hour shift to start.” Pressing the side panel, the door slid open. He all but pushed her inside, hand on the small of her back.
All activity stilled at their entrance. Every head turned in her direction. Three medics stared at her, their white jackets standing out in the against the gray of the bulkheads. She heard the beeping of Mace’s vambrace and her hands parted.
The medics resumed their tasks, but the patients, both child-sized and not, remained focused on her.
Nia forced a smile. “Get me another post,” she said, trying not to move her lips.
“You’re good. I’ve seen your work. You’ll be fine here.” His words made her break the staring contest she was having with a toddler sitting on their mother’s lap.
She ignored the rush the compliment gave her and turned her back to the room “No. I won’t,” she said under her breath.
Head tilted slightly, he stared at her. For a second, she believed he would give in, then he shook his head. “I’ll return for you at the end of your shift.”
She wanted to throw something at his retreating back. When he paused at the door, she breathed a sigh of relief. Then he said, “Don’t try to leave.”
“Why not?”
He kept his voice low. “Your bonds will shock you once you cross the threshold.”
She stared at her wrists, unsurprised.
But he continued, “They increase in intensity with each attempt. Could eventually kill you if you kept at it.”
Nia inhaled sharply as the door closed behind him. She looked at her bonds, then at the door, then at her bonds—a sick feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. The voice of her basic training instructor pounded in her brain.Better to kill yourself than to be used and abused by Tells. If you have an out, take it.
Her stomach rolled. The suicide option had never sat well with her. She turned around, and a medic stopped in front of her, looking her up and down.
“You’re a doctor?” His tone held derision.
Nia tensed. “Yes, a surgeon.”
He threw a short white jacket and a scanner at her. “Get to work or get out of the way.”
Her spine snapped straight, jaw going slack.What an asshole. That sort of insubordination would have earned him a reprimand where she’d come from. Her eyes followed him as he returned to the woman he’d been tending.
Trying to put her wounded sense of hierarchy aside, she donned the jacket, zipping it closed, and noticed how the sleeves stopped short of her bonds, making sure they would be exposed at all times.
Hand clenched around the scanner, she approached the first unattended person—a child. He sat on a med bed, face flushed, his mother beside her. Nia stopped in front of them, and he sneezed.
She stepped back.
When Mace entered the command center, he knew something was wrong. All the commanders and sub-commanders were already there, one for each section of the station for a total of eight. At the head of the holotable, the commodore threw him a displeased expression. The rest stared at him with raised eyebrows.
Ignoring them, he took his place beside Grey, and homed in on Foley across the table. Narrow face, long nose, and his muddy-colored hair swooping over his pale forehead, Foley appeared as self-satisfied as he always did.
Mace clenched his fists, ready to call him out, but Cache touched the holotable, retrieving three-dimensional images of a decimated ship. A tense hush settled over them.
“We’ve lost another Destroyer,” she began without preamble. A rumble of unease passed between the commanders. “Three Guardians attacked theBellicosewhile it escorted five transports to Saturn.”
His lungs lost air like he’d been punched. He’d had many friends on theBellicose. Snippets of recordings streamed across the table’s surface, one where the Destroyer exploded. Fury seared through him, hot, escalating his need to lash out.
Retaliation.The CORE had done this because of the attack onElara Five. Mace’s eyes went to Foley again. The other commander kept his eyes on the recordings, arms crossed, and had more to answer for than the destruction of a medical station.
“Survivors, sir?” Commander Poole asked from beside Foley, his features wide where Foley’s were narrow.
Cache took a breath. “They kept a few to make an example of and executed the rest.” Grumbles of anger and unease rippled across the surface of the table. “The ones who survived are scheduled for the airlock in two days’ time. The CORE didn’t seize the transports caught in the crossfire. Some are being diverted here for medical attention and should arrive by tomorrow.”
