Nykyrian looked back at Caillen. "You and Darling need to rig additional power to the Malia to make sure she can get out as fast as you can pilot her. She's too big to dogfight."
Nykyrian tossed the print-outs to Darling. "Aksel will probably be holding Kiara in his office. I'll need a dum my bom b. Can you do it within the hour?"
"Is my hair red?"
Nykyrian stood. "Then we prepare."
Jayne, Caillen, and Darling left. Hauk stayed behind with a face that reminded Nykyrian of Rachol's doom-and-gloom attitude. Disregarding him, Nykyrian pulled his Nemesis gear from the closet.
"You're not planning on com ing back, are you?"
Nykyrian paused. With a deep sigh, he pulled his boots out of the closet and sat them on the floor. "I'm good, but no one's good enough to survive the number of fighters that'll be after me."
Hauk tapped his fingers against the tabletop in a pulsing rhythm that set Nykyrian's teeth on edge. "Why not send Kiara back in the Malia and let me fly out with you to fight?"
Nykyrian unbuttoned his shirt. "The Malia might get caught. I trust Darling and Caillen to make their way safely home. I need you to see Kiara makes it back to her father intact."
"I'd rather keep you alive."
"Kiara is m y life," Nykyrian whispered. He sat down in his chair and placed his head in his hands.
This was the only way that made sense. If he were dead, Kiara would be free, he would be free. Strangely, he felt no rem orse. Somehow it felt right.
Nykyrian looked at the ring on his smallest finger, the ring he had bought before he went to see Kiara the first time after her father shot him, the ring he had intended to give her as a wedding band, but couldn't bring himself to do it. The rows of red griata stones, surrounded by a gold band, glinted in the dim light.
He pulled the ring off and handed it to Hauk. "I want you to give this to Kiara."
Hauk studied it, then looked at him with a severe frown. "This is a wedding ring."
"I know. We were married according to Andarion custom a few months ago."
Hauk closed his eyes and Nykyrian knew he wanted to curse.
"I'm depending on you to m ake sure she's recognized as my widow." Nykyrian licked his suddenly dry lips. "If I don't get the chance, tell her I love her, that I've always loved her."
Hauk's eyes teared. "I can't do this," he said in a ragged voice.
Nykyrian cleared his throat of the lump. "We've had too many missions together for you to soften now."
Hauk clenched his teeth and looked away. "You always planned to come back from those missions."
Nykyrian scoffed. "Not really. This is the first time in my life I actually want to return alive. Pretty damned ironic, isn't it?"
Hauk fastened the ring inside his pocket. "What do you want me to tell Rachol?"
Nykyrian smirked, jerking his boots off. "Ask him where the hell he was when I needed him m ost."
Hauk's eyes widened incredulously.
Nykyrian chuckled. "I'm only kidding. If you said that, he'd start drinking again. Since he was the driving force behind the OMG, I leave it for him to run." Nykyrian stood and reached for his clothes. "Also tell him the lorinas are his to coddle."
Hauk laughed. "He might dig up your body just to shoot you for that!"
Nykyrian paused at the thought. He just hoped Aksel left enough of him to bury.
*
Caillen sat at the control panel of the Malia, waiting for clearance to enter Aksel's base. He smiled at the six crates of damson, Nykyrian had graciously donated to add realism to the scam.
The orange light on his board flashed, warning him the probe scanners were on. Pushing in a series of buttons, he smiled as the jamm ers hummed on.
"Take that you swixtas." He laughed.
"Malia cleared," the controller's voice echoed. "Dock in bay eight."
Caillen complied. He loved his job. There was nothing like extreme danger to get the blood pumping and the brain juices flowing.
Several soldiers stood by, waiting to board his ship. Caillen shook his head, and double-checked the settings on his control panel.
He walked past where Nykyrian and the rest were hidden, wasting time. The longer the guards had to wait, the more anxious they'd become. It was a childish ploy, but it always served to unnerve sentries. With a prayer for success, Caillen slowly lowered the ramp.
He opened the hatch and stared down the barrel of a laser rifle.
"Problem?" he asked calm ly.
"We're expecting Quiakides," the helmeted soldier snarled.
Caillen burst into laughter. "Is that you, Marek?"
The soldier shifted nervously before pulling his helmet off. "Yes."
Caillen shoved the barrel away from his face and sauntered back inside his ship. The other soldiers filed on board and set about searching his cargo. "Buy a clue. What would I be doing with Quiakides? Hasn't anyone bothered to tell you we don't get along?"
"You run missions for him."
Caillen dropped his mouth sarcastically. "Duh! I'd run missions for the devil as long as he pays me on time."
"That's why we're searching you."
Caillen laughed again. "Like Quiakides can't afford a better mode of transportation than this dilapidated junk heap. Forget a clue, buy a brain."