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“No, Ganesha altered course as soon as the transponder was deactivated. The Nissa is still on our original course, but I doubt they will be for long. Admiral Siller isn’t stupid. He’s not going to try tracking a ghost.”
Ranvir knew that, too. “What about the Prefect and the other ships?”
Tane scanned the massive amount of data before him. “The Prefect hasn’t moved, but it isn’t firing on the remaining pods. The other ships seem to be pursuing the escaping vessels.”
“Any way we can assist them?” Ranvir asked and saw Pike raise an eyebrow. “Yes, I know our shields aren’t one-hundred percent, but if they can’t detect us, we may be able to assist at least some of our brethren. It will also allow us to try and connect with members of our pods. If we can, we can set up a rendezvous point.”
“How?” Wells swung around to ask. “The communications array is down.”
Ranvir ignored Wells’ question and looked to Ganesha. “Set course for the closest group of vessels. Pike, be ready on weapons.”
“Yes, Major,” they both replied.
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
Done with her pity party, Talyani rose and entered her closet. She wanted to get out of her borrowed clothes and into something that made her feel like her. She’d just entered the room when everything shuddered, and she fell against a wall.
“What the hell!” She tried to stand, but the room lurched sideways, flinging her into a corner. “Gods damn it!” she shouted at the bridge. “Can’t you give a girl some warning?”
Pressing her back against a wall, she braced her feet on one of the secured cabinets. Grateful she had been when the ship tipped onto its side again. What the hell was that arrogant cyborg doing? She thought they were running away.
The Troubadour wasn’t shuddering the way it had when they’d been under attack, and she couldn’t hear any weapons fire, but that didn’t mean anything. The ship had extensive soundproofing, especially in her quarters so that she wouldn’t be disturbed. She regretted that now.
Finally, the ship seemed to stabilize. Rising, she quickly stripped off her clothes and pulled on a pair of pants and an oversized sweater. They were what she called her ‘real’ clothes. The ones she could be Taly in. They were the complete opposite of the professional ones that filled the majority of the closet. Those were all glitz and glamour that was Talyani, and while she enjoyed wearing them for interviews and on stage, they weren’t practical for everyday life.
Moving to the opposite wall, she selected a pair of comfortable exercisers. Pulling them on, she exited the closet and crossed the bedroom to her private bathroom.
Inside, she got the first look at herself since that morning. Gods, she was a mess. The long silky curls she was known for were now a knotted nest. Sighing, she reached for a brush and began the arduous task of detangling the mass. As she did, the ramifications of everything that happened today hit, and she began to shake.
Dropping the brush, she gripped the edge of the counter.
Oh, Gods, she was a fugitive now.
She was a fugitive on a ship with four rebel cyborgs, none of which were her half-brother, and a fan who seemed to know how to handle a communications station. Could she trust any of them? The one with the major’s insignia had immediately taken command after she’d freed them, and the other cyborgs had followed him, even though his first order had been to abandon the rest of their fellow cyborgs.
How long before he ordered them to do the same with her?
They had control of her ship. They didn’t need her. Not even for her access code because, as cyborgs, they’d eventually crack it.
Then there was Vujcec Wells. Her ‘fan’ who’d so easily turned on her when the major had saidhewas of no use to them. No. She couldn’t count on him either.
She could only rely on herself the same way she did on stage.
She took a deep breath, picked up the brush, and worked on her hair. She was Talyani Zulfiqar. She was more than a pretty face and a famous voice. Nas was always telling her that. Maybe she needed to start believing it. After all, she’d already done the impossible.
“Gods be damned!” she cursed as the brush got stuck in her hair. “I’m never going to get through this. I should just cut it off.”
But she couldn’t. Her fans would riot. They loved her hair. It stood out; no matter how people tried, they could never imitate its unique color or the large natural curls. It made her instantly recognizable, even without facial enhancements.
Her eyes widened at the realization.
It made her recognizable.
That wasn’t a good thing for a fugitive.
Leaving the brush where it was stuck, she reached into a drawer and pulled out the scissors her hairstylist used to trim her ends. Taking a deep breath, she went to work.
Time to become who she really was.
Taly.
