CassaStar (24 page)

“
Don’t think I did any good,” Byron mumbled. “I didn’t know what to say, so I just sat with him.”

“
Sometimes that is enough.”

His navigator’s words were accompanied by thoughts of reassurance. Byron suspected the comment carried a double meaning and applied to him as well. After all, he’d sought Bassa’s company knowing his friend’s presence would provide comfort.

“
Well, I may excel in the cockpit, but I sure lack everywhere else,” Byron grumbled, crossing his arms.

“
You don’t give yourself enough credit,” Bassa countered, leaning back in his seat.

Byron shook his head. “I’m better with machines than I am with people.”

“
At one time, that may have been true. But not now. You are a far greater friend than you realize.”

Raising his gaze, Byron stared at his navigator in disbelief. Why Bassa continued to see anything of value in him was beyond Byron. His navigator provided encouragement beyond his role in the cockpit, while Byron felt he contributed little to their friendship. Comforting Ernx was difficult enough. He doubted he’d even know how to respond if Bassa were injured.

Bassa’s curious expression alerted Byron that his thoughts were completely exposed. Alarmed, he silenced his mental voice and shifted in his seat. His unguarded moments were occurring too often for his tastes and he couldn’t understand the reason for such frequent lapses.

Offering a reassuring smile, Bassa sat up straight. “You are far more capable than you realize, Byron,” he stated, grasping his tray as he rose to his feet. “One day you will see that.”

Unwilling to sit alone in the hall, Byron departed with his navigator. He felt drained by the day’s events, especially those that occurred after the fight with the Vindicarn. Byron hoped he could retire early this evening.

Emerging from the telepod, Byron felt Bassa’s hand on his shoulder.

“
Don’t spend all night on your report,” he cautioned. “Get some rest. Tomorrow may be more of the same.”

“
Hope you follow your own advice,” Byron countered. Bassa’s fatigue was just as apparent.

His navigator offered a smile. “I promise I will sleep hard tonight!”

The morning held only drills for their squadron. The mood was subdued, but no one faltered in his flight pattern. The men were dismissed from the debriefing with a reminder that they were still on alert. After the previous day’s long morning patrol and afternoon battle, Byron hoped the remainder of his day was a little less eventful.

Inquiring on his friends, he discovered they were now in Nintal’s quarters. The navigator’s senses were returning and Ernx seemed delighted his friend would soon return to full capacity.

“
I started hearing Nintal about two hours ago,” Ernx stated with pride, beaming at his partner. “We’ve been connecting and exchanging thoughts ever since!”

His navigator returned his eager grin. Seated at his table, Nintal’s posture sagged, but his eyes sparkled with energy. The man’s thoughts were loud and echoed throughout the room, and Byron couldn’t miss the gratitude Nintal felt toward his pilot.

“
I’m wondering at what point he’ll tell me to shut up, too,” he teased.

“
Considering the alternative, you can chatter in my head all day long!” exclaimed Ernx.

Byron smiled at their banter. It reminded him of Trindel and his comical monologue. He doubted his former navigator’s endless chatter in his head would be a pleasant experience, though.

Ernx grasped the chair opposite Nintal with one hand. “The medics instructed me how to connect with Nintal and entice his senses to function again. My thoughts provided a path to follow. Now it’s just a matter of keeping the mental exchanges going while his mind grows strong again.”

“
You can’t imagine the lack of feeling,” Nintal said in a grave voice. “It was just nothingness until I heard Ernx’s voice in my head. I grabbed on to that sound as if my life depended on it. Ernx led me out of the darkest place I’ve ever known.”

The depth of conviction and feelings of gratitude broadcast strongly from Nintal. Ernx ducked his head, as if embarrassed by his friend’s assessment of the situation. However, the exchange that passed between the men spoke of great friendship and trust.

Shifting his position, Byron cleared his throat. “I’ll leave you to continue the healing process,” he offered, nodding at Nintal. “Glad you’ll recover.”

The man smiled and Byron felt a hand on his shoulder.

“
Thanks for waiting with me yesterday,” Ernx said in earnest, his gratitude transparent and obvious with his mental shields lowered. “That really meant a lot to me.”

“
Least I could do,” Byron countered, eager to leave the room.

Once out in the hallway, he breathed a sigh of relief. The lack of mental inhibitions had almost overwhelmed his senses. Byron was relieved Nintal would regain his mental abilities, as navigators needed to communicate telepathically with their pilots. Ernx would not be forced to make a career- changing decision. Judging from their commitment level, neither man would’ve continued without the other.

Byron wondered if he was that devoted to Bassa and decided not to dwell on that thought.

Bassa poked at the remaining food on his plate, contemplating his next bite. Constant dogfights for four days straight had taken its toll on his body and he found he possessed no appetite. Giving up the effort, he dropped his fork on the tray.

Byron glanced up from his meal. “Nothing tastes good tonight,” he observed, hunching further over his plate.

Rubbing his forehead, Bassa leaned away from the table. He glanced around the room, which was rather quiet considering the amount of officers present. Everyone seemed too tired to waste precious energy on verbal conversation. Bassa felt his shoulders sag at the thought of another day of battle. He was growing too old to maintain such a pace.

“
Are you going to make it?” asked Byron.

His gaze returning to his pilot, Bassa nodded. “I’m as able as you.”

“
That’s not saying much right now,” the young man mumbled.

Byron stabbed at his food, as if searching for an edible piece. Uttering a growl of disgust, he shoved aside the tray. Crossing his arms, Byron leaned against the table.

“
At least they could serve food with flavor,” he charged. Byron frowned as he scanned the room. “I didn’t see Hannar tonight. He wasn’t injured, was he?”

“
His mate went into labor,” Bassa explained, resting his arm on the chair beside him. “He remained in his quarters so he can concentrate on the experience with her.”

Byron’s expression turned to one of disbelief. “He can hear her all the way out here?”

“
Yes. Bonded mates can hear one another at all times.”

“
Oh,” the young man said, his thoughts still confused. “Didn’t realize bonding was that strong.”

“
It’s the most powerful connection between two people. And it’s permanent.”

That fact obviously bothered Byron. “Not sure I’d like that,” he declared, scrunching further into his seat.

“
You may one day,” said Bassa, amused by his friend’s reluctance.

“
You’ve never had a mate.”

“
No, I haven’t.”

“
Why not?”

Byron’s directness caused him to pause as he pondered his response. “I got close once, but it didn’t work out,” he finally admitted.

“
Any regrets?”

“
I often wonder,” Bassa mused, contemplating that thought. “My life would’ve been different.”

“
You wouldn’t be out here risking your neck for me?” Byron teased.

Bassa offered a weak smile. “Probably not. But I’ve no regrets being your navigator.”

Byron emitted a short bark of laughter. “I’d like to think I’m a poor replacement for a real mate.”

That triggered a sense of the ridiculous in Bassa. “Well, you do lack in certain areas,” he observed, one eyebrow cocked.

“
Can’t help you there!”

Bassa chuckled. “At least you’re good company.”

His pilot smiled. It occurred to Bassa that Byron’s mental shields were down and his mind unguarded. Under normal circumstances, the young man was protective of his privacy. He was not actively blocking now, though. Bassa considered testing his partner’s open stance, but decided to save that experience for another time.

Byron glanced at the other tables and Bassa sensed unease. Byron turned to his navigator with troubled eyes.

“
Is it true Corten lost his senses?” he asked in a wary voice.

Bassa emitted a heavy sigh. Corten had received a direct hit from a Vindicarn disrupter as well as physical injuries to both he and his navigator. Their wounds would heal, but Corten’s senses had failed to return. Unable to communicate telepathically, he could no longer function as a Cosbolt pilot.

“
Unfortunately, yes,” Bassa replied.

“
What’s he going to do now?”

Bassa shook his head. “I think he’s still in shock. His navigator hasn’t decided if he’ll continue without Corten, either.”

Byron sighed, his gaze dropping to the table’s surface. Bassa sensed discomfort and indecision as his pilot’s mind processed the information. The possibility that either of them could lose their senses bothered Byron on multiple levels. The conflicting emotions flit through his mind at a rapid pace before the young man settled on anger.

“
Need to blast every damn one of the Vindicarn out of existence,” Byron growled.

Bassa pushed his chair back and stretched his legs. “Tomorrow! Right now, let’s go get some sleep.”

“
That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day,” answered Byron, pulling himself to his feet.

Despite his exhaustion, sleep did not come easy to Bassa that night. He’d faced many enemies in his career, but none as frightening as the Vindicarn. Casualties were bad enough without the threat of losing one’s senses forever. He’d survived hundreds of battles in his long career, but his pilot was still just a boy. Bassa worried Byron would not enjoy a similar tenure in the fleet. Despite his guidance, his greatest fear resided in the thought that the young man still wouldn’t escape tragedy. Bassa was now more determined than ever to ensure that Byron survived.

Chapter Twelve

Byron fired two shots, determined to hit the elusive target. The second blast sheared off a wing, sending the ship into a violent tailspin.

Jump!
commanded Bassa, the coordinates flashing into Byron’s mind.

He felt a slight impact as they teleported to safety. Upon re-entry, he scanned for damage.

Just nicked the hull,
Bassa announced.
We can still fly.

That was too close,
Byron replied, turning the ship to rejoin the fight.

Incoming!

Byron noted the enemy fighter bearing down on their position and went on the defensive. Their ship dove, spiraling downward. The Vindicarn followed, taking the bait. Laser blasts shot past their nose, the flashes almost blinding. Byron caught his breath as he conveyed his intentions. Bassa’s reply was instant affirmation.

In the blink of an eye, they were behind the enemy fighter and bearing down at full speed. Byron’s thumb pressed hard on the trigger and a single bolt emanated from their vessel. In a brilliant flash of light, the Vindicarn ship exploded.

Gotcha!
exclaimed Byron, soaring past the scraps of debris.

Watch your jump count,
cautioned Bassa.

Only seven!
Byron protested. He still had several jumps remaining.

Rorth’s in trouble!

Following his navigator’s direction, Byron located Rorth’s team amidst the confusion. Their weapons damaged and jump capabilities exhausted, the ship was defenseless against the Vindicarn. They were trying to outrun the enemy in a desperate attempt to return to the Sorenthia.