[LEGACY VERSION] The Emperor of Time (Book 1 - The Kaireyeh Chronicles)

Chapter 10 - Damon, Barenin

"Countermeasures," Campa barked. "Get our squawker drones up and away from the city. Ready ship drones for deployment."

A hand pressed on Damon's shoulder and he jerked around, reaching for his arm. The crest started to form on his hand.

"Hey, sorry!" the boy said, jumping back. "That's my station."

Damon swallowed and scrambled to release the straps holding him to the chair. He was barely out before the kid slid in, dismissing Damon from his attention as he scanned the controls and made adjustments.

Damon stepped back, grabbing a console behind him to steady against the shaking deck. His hand twitched again for his halo trigger, but he pressed it to his side. There were no Miravec here. The Miravec were all out there, shooting at the ship.

"Hey, kid, you're in my line of sight," a man said at the console he leaned on. "There's a handhold over there." He pointed to handholds placed at intervals on the bulkheads.

Damon glanced over to Campa to see if she'd tell him where to go next, but she was busy. Around the bridge, everyone was busy and strapped in, all the seats occupied. Damon made his way across the trembling deck to the back of the bridge. He thought about trying the lift to go find Luc, but sickbay might be anywhere, and he doubted it was a good idea to be in a lift car during launch.

The ship bucked, and Damon slid across the deck. He found a handhold by the lift hatch and looped his good arm through it. The view on the front screens flared orange.

"Hostile Missile 1 has detonated outside our damage range," a man called out. "HM2 still tracking."

"Alexi," Campa barked, "where are the shields?"

Alexi's voice cracked over the bridge comm. "We need full power to lift and maneuver. Another twenty seconds."

"Trim power off the thrust," Campa said. "We'll make it."

"HM2 locking onto a squawker. HM2 deton--"

Damon jerked hard to one side. He braced against the handle and managed not to fall.

"Two--no, four--more hostile missiles fired," the man tracking weapons reported. "Two more fighters on our tail. And those three cruisers in orbit have engines going hot. Sir, they're coming around the planet to intercept us."

Campa studied her holos and called out a new course. "Set translight coordinates Campa-Five and begin countdown for minimal--and I mean minimal--translight window."

Damon gripped the handhold tighter. Ships entering translight too close to a planet could blow up. His master had lost a shipment when a ship had tried to outrun pirates and miscalculated the minimal translight window.

Everything had gone wrong for him that day. Was it too much to hope they'd survive the jump to translight? Was it too much to hope Campa knew what she was doing?

He clenched his teeth and held on.

#

In the engine room, Barenin/Alexi kept his mind split. One part monitored the thoughts of the engine crew for spikes of trouble with the machinery, another part focused on being himself, being Alexi. He was reaching beyond his human focus for the extra Aezthena senses; he needed to stay grounded. Not the least because one part of his mind was on the bridge with Damon.

It was strange--he was here, in the engine room, but at the same time, he remembered looping his arm through a hold on the bridge. He remembered the sour dryness in his mouth. The throbbing in his arm. The heat that flashed through him and pushed his heart into his throat every time the ship shook.