Chapter 21
brAXTON
The Derecko doesn’t feel like home without Jaxus on it. I swear, even when we’re not in the same part of the ship, our connection is strong enough for me to sense his presence. Walking from the hangar bay to the control room without that warm sensation in my chest is very unsettling.
When we get there, Hex kicks everyone out.
Then he claims one of the hover chairs and brings up several floating screens so he can speak to each member of the Council at once.
They are rarely all in the same location at any given time, but today nine of the thirty members are seated at the same table, in a spacious room with low light, and windows as big as houses.
“I see you have your commander with you, Captain Henrix, but no one else,” one of the hooded figures says. “Numbers said you needed to speak with us about an urgent matter. Is it truly that serious?”
“It’s not like you to keep your crew out of the loop,” another member agrees.
It’s more like him than they know. Or I knew, before today. Loving Jay has made Hex into a different Giver. He is not the obedient subject he once was, who would never think about being dishonest with the Council or his crew.
Doing whatever he must to have a future with our mate is clearly his top priority now—and he fights for that future as remarkably as I witnessed him take on every major challenge that came his way in the past; masking his true motivations effortlessly as he persuades each member of the Council to vote “yes” for our plan to scare some sense into humanity.
“l don’t know what I’d do without you,” I say, after he’s given a final word of approval, then dismissed.
“You could have brought them around, if you were in my shoes, and were the captain of this ship.”
“Absolutely not.” I laugh at how ridiculous his humility is. “None of us could be on our way to either great victory, or utter defeat, without you.”
“We all need each other, and couldn’t do this alone,” he says, his face impassive.
“I know sharing our little hybrid will be hard sometimes, and jealousy might make tempers flare, but I am thankful that Jay has three mates who love him selflessly and ferociously. And who would sooner die than put their needs above his or our nestlings’.
If there is ever an unfortunate moment, when they need me most and I can’t be there for them, I know you or Xan will look after them just as well as I could.
And there is no greater gift that I could ask the stars for. ”
“Shit, Captain, you’re going to make me cry while your eyes are as dry as a desert.”
He slides off his chair and pulls me into a brief, brotherly hug. “Let’s save those tears for the end of this mission. Then I might have a cry with you.”
“Yes, Captain,” I choke out as we separate. “Should we tell the crew about the announcement?”
“Contact Xan while we’re on our way to Earth and tell him to do it remotely.”
“Or we could just have Numbers do it.”
“No, they should hear about it from a Giver, not AI. No offense, Numbers.”
“None taken, Captain.”
It’s kind of creepy when he replies out of nowhere and lets you know he’s been listening the whole time, but—just like with eager members of the crew—he appears to just enjoy being involved.
He opens the door for us on our way out, before its sensor can react to our movement, and whispers spread across rooms as we march through them, promising, “We’ll talk later,” to anyone who tries to flag us down.
I feel guilty for leaving our crew without a captain or a commander again, but we will lead them better than we ever have when we return, because the stress of losing Jay (or ruining an alliance to keep him) will no longer be hanging over us.
We cut through space as fast as the scoutship will go, then enter Earth’s skies stealthily enough to not cause panic with sightings of an NV ship.
With no cloaking activated, however, humans with the strongest technology at their disposal will be able to detect our presence before we land at a private airport in a neutral zone.
These zones are where humans have allowed us to build compounds, and where they have built designated meeting spots for NVs to sit down with world leaders and their top military brass.
When we land, I see one of them waiting for us on the tarmac. General Trembly must live nearby if he got here before us. He probably got out of bed and headed to the airport while Xan spoke to the Earthlings, making our intentions known, and telling them where they could meet us to discuss them.
“Captain Henrix,” he says, only addressing Hex when we step out of the scoutship, as if we hadn’t just had a very professional, polite call not too long ago, when I was manning the Derecko.
The man has a discolored, dark patch of skin on his bald head that I offered to correct for him once.
We haven’t gotten along since.
“It’s good to see you, General.” Hex offers his hand.
The general doesn’t take it. “Do you want every NV on this planet to be evicted from Earth tonight?”
“You can’t just evict them without notice.”
“If you’re going to reserve the right to address our people without notice, we reserve the right to evict without notice.”
“Then evict,” Hex tells him, “because you won’t prevent us from honoring our Council’s wishes. They have decided that your people deserve to know what threats are out there in the universe, so we intend to share this information with everyone on Earth, with or without your permission.”
“And,” I begin, “you might want to think about how unsafe that will make your people feel, after they hear what we have to say. You should see how they react to our news before severing ties with us.”
“These people are not my people, Commander,” the general growls, as his eyes and discolored skin turn black. “My kind has spent forty years hiding comfortably on Earth, and I’m not going to let you ruin that.”