Read Ronan: Ziva Payvan Book 3 Online
Authors: EJ Fisch
“But…remarkable, to say the least. All things considered, it has been an honor serving with you.”
“Well,” Ziva said, straightening his jacket, “you know I’m not very good at being complimentary, so…”
“Mmm, I believe you told me once that I’m – how did you put it – ‘not so bad’.”
“That I did.” This time she had to fight to maintain a positive demeanor. He was stalling; she could feel it. It was only making things harder.
His smile was just as forced. “This isn’t working, is it?” He winced.
She shook her head and placed her hand over his, giving it a quick squeeze before removing it from her face. “You have to let me go. Don’t try to come after me. Don’t try to fix the situation. You’ll just make everything worse.”
Aroska leaned in and embraced her once more. “If you say so.”
His eyes glistened when he turned and took a hesitant step toward the door. Tears were forming in Ziva’s eyes as well, but she blinked them away before he could notice, infuriated by the emotional response he evoked in her. The same old voice whispered in the back of her mind:
The more you get attached to something, the more painful it will be to lose it.
“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to remind you one more time that this door is still open.”
She looked up and nodded. “Acknowledged. But it’s not going to happen.”
“Well then.” He resumed his trek out of the room. “I’ll have some clean clothes brought in for you if you’d like. You look like hell. Get some rest, okay? And I’ll, ah…I’ll see you later.”
The door slid shut behind him, but the light on the control panel remained green. Now that she was alone, the realization that she
could
just walk out sunk in. Zinni was right; she could disappear with no trouble. The
Zenith
was still docked at her house with all her relevant belongings aboard. But no, her way was better. She could kill easily enough if ordered to, but making a personal decision that would condemn those she loved to a life of misery or even death…she didn’t think she could live with that.
She rubbed her clammy palms together as she moved over to the control panel. Her hand hovered over the door controls for a moment before coming to rest on the intercom button. “Hey,” she said, able to hear her own voice coming through the comm at the warden’s station outside. “Can I get a blank data pad in here? There’s something I need to do.”
Morning came all too soon, and Aroska wasn’t sure if he’d gotten a wink of sleep. He’d found a bench in the spec ops locker room and had settled down with the intent of resting his eyes for a bit, but try as he might to relax, the thought of lying there idle was unbearable. He’d spent half the night wandering aimlessly through the building, particularly the holding block. Emeri had ordered them all to leave Ziva alone, as Reddic was watching and it needed to look like they were cooperating. As far as Aroska knew, she hadn’t left her room yet, and it was confounding. He tried to put himself in her place and was sure he’d want to make a run for it if given the opportunity. With her reputation, he would have expected her to do the same, but here she was preparing to do what was quite possibly the first truly selfless thing she’d ever done.
The Federation ships had arrived in the Noro system in the middle of the night and, after ordering the GA’s fleet to stand down, had destroyed what little remained of the Resistance armada. The technicalities had elicited many an eye-roll among the Haphezian higher-ups. The Feds had been called in by Reddic two days earlier to respond to Ronan’s presence and were now there to pick up HSP’s Nosti prisoners, not to offer assistance to Haphez in any way. Galaxy forbid they actually
help
the Haphezian or Durutian fleets win the battle. No matter though; the remaining Resistance forces had been doomed anyway. Tobias’s ships had gone slinking back out into the Fringe, and the only Durutians who remained were part of the Special Tasks Unit under Reddic’s direct command. They were currently working with the agency to move the prisoners to a secure transport the Feds had sent down.
A shuttle was being sent down to collect the ‘borgs, as were a pair of fighters Reddic and Mae would fly up behind the
Intrepid
. Aroska had to admit he was glad they were being allowed to perform the escort. Maybe it was just because they were familiar faces, but he somehow trusted them more than he would have trusted a couple of random Feds.
He strode down the main corridor of the holding block now, glad Ziva had been placed in one of these nice rooms and not in an interrogation room or detention cell with the other Resistance prisoners. Nobody had been ordered to come get her yet, but he’d volunteered himself for the job anyway. Matney’s ships had arrived in Haphezian airspace, and once the prisoner transfer was complete, it would be her turn to leave.
The display on the control panel still glowed green when he stopped in front of her door. Part of him hoped he’d find the room empty, but deep down he knew she was right. Leaving with the Federation was the only way to protect everyone. He just wished it didn’t have to be her. Surely she had to see that she was going to die, yet she was still willing to go through with this. It was so tempting to try to come up with a plan, try to help her, but the fact that she’d warned him against doing that almost made him wonder if she already
had
a plan. He’d simply have to trust her to figure something out, he decided. It felt like the hardest decision he’d ever made.
His heart sank a bit when he found her still sitting on the sofa. One leg was draped over the other, her eyes were closed, and she held a deactivated data pad in her lap. She said nothing as he entered, so he said nothing in return. There was nothing he could say that she didn’t already know anyway.
It’s almost time. Today’s the day. I don’t want you to go
. All meaningless.
So he sat down beside her instead, staring straight ahead at the wall and doing his best to let his mind go blank. It wasn’t the first time he’d found himself envying her cold disposition. Her ability to care or not care with the flip of a switch would come in handy right about now.
Ziva didn’t move for the duration of the time he sat there. He wondered if she was somehow asleep, but he didn’t dare speak to her or touch her. She was aware of his presence though; he couldn’t tell whether she’d visibly relaxed, but the air in the room seemed less tense than it had when he’d entered. The possibility that she was glad to have him there brought him some comfort as well.
The silence was broken when his communicator buzzed. “Yeah,” he answered, a dry throat making his voice even quieter than he’d meant it to be.
“They’re ready for her,” Skeet said.
Already?
Aroska checked the time on his comm and realized he’d been sitting there for half an hour. For a moment he wondered how Skeet had known he was there, but then he looked up at the tiny cam mounted in the corner of the room. Clearly he hadn’t been the only person hoping to keep an eye on Ziva.
“We’ll be there soon.”
She was already on her feet by the time he ended the transmission, headed for the door as if nothing were wrong. The only thing about her that made the situation seem any different was her face. There was genuine sadness there, maybe even fear. It was a far cry from the indifference she usually showed while preparing to do something risky.
They both remained silent as they moved out into the hall, with Ziva setting a brisk pace and Aroska struggling to keep up. He wasn’t sure how she could be motivated to move so fast, given what awaited her once they reached their destination. Perhaps she saw no point in dragging things out any longer than necessary.
When they arrived on the landing pad, the prisoner transport was lifting off from the ground far below, flanked by three Federation fighters. The
Intrepid
remained docked right where they’d left it the day before, and two more Fed fighters had set down beside it. Reddic and Mae waited in full flight gear; her heavily-bandaged right arm bulged under the suit. Skeet and Zinni stood off to one side, sans the hoverchair, and Emeri approached from the front of a long line of security personnel. Aroska guessed they were mostly there for show – if Ziva hadn’t gone anywhere by now, she wasn’t going to.
“I can’t believe you’re really doing this,” Emeri said, falling into stride with her.
Ziva didn’t even slow her pace. “Believe it or not, Director, I was thinking of leaving anyway.”
Aroska imagined his own face mirrored the shock Emeri was showing. “What?” he exclaimed, taking a few jogging steps and cutting her off.
She shot him a glare that compelled him to back off before shifting her attention back to the director. “After everything that happened with Dasaro, it’s time for me to move on. This wasn’t really what I had in mind, but it’s the way things are. Take care of my team.”
Aroska could only stand there for a moment wondering what she’d meant. Was she talking about the way the agency had turned its back on her, or the fact that her face and name had been spread all over the Fringe? Either way, it would have potentially made her job harder, but he still tried to convince himself they were lame excuses for leaving altogether.
They arrived at the end of the platform and Ziva moved over to lower the
Intrepid’s
boarding ramp before returning to address the group. An ominous wind whistled by, signaling the approach of a storm. Gray clouds hovered low over the city, creating a bleak atmosphere Aroska found appropriate for the occasion.
As he stood there watching her shake Emeri’s hand and exchange a few words with Skeet and Zinni, he realized how the fact that he was even out on this landing pad right now was a testament to the kind of person she truly was. He was there because of the connection, the connection that had saved his life and had allowed him to save hers in return. It was a connection that only existed because she truly cared about people, and he’d somehow ended up lucky enough to fall into that category.
He saw her give them each a warm hug – something he’d never expected to witness – before she directed her attention toward him. She stopped with about a meter between them and scrutinized him with her hands on her hips as if trying to decide what to do.
“You don’t have to do this,” he said. “You don’t have to carry all of this on your shoulders.”
“Sure I do. After all, I can’t stand the thought of everything not being about me.”
Aroska bowed his head and stifled a chuckle.
“You’ll be okay,” she said, squinting against a ray of sunlight that broke through the clouds. “I promise.”
How she could say such things was beyond him, but he nodded anyway and offered his hand. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“I know.” To his surprise, she stepped forward and threw her arms around his neck, leaning up to rest her chin on his shoulder. Never in his life had he expected her to do such a thing, but the realization that this was no ordinary embrace hit him when her whisper tickled his ear: “What time is it?”
It struck him as an odd question, but when he pulled away and saw her steely face, he knew she was serious. She still carried that data pad and was perfectly capable of checking the time on her own. The thought occurred to him that she wasn’t asking for herself.
He glanced down and made a mental note.
10.03
.
She seemed satisfied by this and turned back toward the ship, signaling to Reddic and Mae that she was ready. They acknowledged her and climbed into their fighters, and she paused at the base of the boarding ramp long enough to glance back over her shoulder. Then the ship swallowed her up.
As he stood there watching the ramp retract, it was all Aroska could do to keep himself from sprinting forward and stopping her. One look at Skeet and Zinni told him they were thinking the same thing. But Ziva had a plan – he could feel it. Maybe she would figure out some way to avoid the Federation ships and make an FTL jump. There had to have been a reason for asking about the time, too. He checked again and found that only a minute had passed.
The
Intrepid’s
engines roared to life and the ship sat there humming for a moment before it lifted off with the two fighters hovering on either side. As it turned to move out over the city and begin its ascent, a soft but high-pitched squeal reached his ears, followed by a subtle rattle. He caught sight of a large dent with a burnt-out area in its center and recalled feeling something hit the ship as they’d fled the
Marauder
.
“Damn it, Z,” Skeet muttered, “that’s not going to hold.”
“What is it?” Emeri said.
“Damage we sustained yesterday,” Aroska replied, searching his communicator’s call logs for the last transmission he’d sent to Ziva’s ship.
Skeet had beat him to it and held his own comm out where they could all hear. “Thruster’s exposed,” he said as they waited for the transmission to connect. “It’s already running hot trying to compensate for the pressure loss that hole is causing.”
“I hope you’re not going to try to talk me into coming back down,” Ziva’s voice crackled.
“You have to, Z!” Skeet cried. “The ship’s not stable. You’ll blow before you hit five klicks. Even if you don’t, you’ll never break atmo.”
“
Sheyss
, Skeet. I told you everything would be fine. I’ve got it under control.”
“Don’t be stupid, Ziva!” Aroska shouted past the lump forming in this throat.
“I’m not going to debate this.”
The transmission ended abruptly. For what seemed like hours, all Aroska could do was stare at the ship as it continued soaring upward and listen as Skeet tried time after time to reconnect. It wasn’t long before both the
Intrepid
and the Durutians’ fighters disappeared behind a veil of clouds.
“What the hell does she think she’s doing?” Zinni demanded.
“I don’t kn—”
Aroska flinched when a muffled boom echoed through the sky. The sound morphed into a series of sharp cracks, followed by one last blast that drowned out all the city noises around them. A fireball erupted from the spot where the
Intrepid
had disappeared, spitting massive chunks of smoking black material out behind it.
Skeet’s shouting ceased, and Zinni’s weakened legs collapsed beneath her. The lump in Aroska’s throat felt like it had grown to be the size of his fist. Maybe it was actually his heart lodged there. He tried to scream, tried to yell, tried to say
something
, but no sound emerged. He fell to his knees, unable to breathe.
He already found himself wishing he could rewind time and stop her despite all the times she’d told him not to. Everything had been fine just minutes before. She’d been standing right there, displaying genuine emotion, acting like a real person, baffling him with her cryptic last words:
What time is it?
The thought prompted him to check his watch again.
10.07
. The time he’d lost yet another significant person in his life. A time he swore he’d never forget.
His thoughts – pleasant compared to the harsh reality – were torn apart like the
Intrepid
itself when he became aware of Emeri shouting somewhere behind him. He turned to find the director on comm with someone aboard Matney’s ship, demanding to be redirected to Reddic’s fighter. There were several seconds of silence before the Durutian came on.
“What the
hell
happened?” Emeri cried.
“Don’t know, sir,” Reddic answered through static. “Something blew on the rear of the ship and it caused a chain reaction. There was a bright flash…I think the FTL drive went. Everything that didn’t break off in the initial explosion has been completely vaporized. The
Intrepid
is gone.”