Dominion Read Free

back into her body, the recoil sending her stumbling against the Nomad ’s hull.
    â€œDon’t fire,” she said as she recovered herself. “Please. Don’t even move. Do nothing. Do you hear me? Do nothing !”
    The tone of her voice changed on the final word. It echoed and resonated. Paul felt his body grow still, as though held in place by unseen bonds. He did not struggle against them, though. He did not want to. He found he was no longer quite as afraid. Only his head was capable of movement. He looked at Syl, and her eyes flicked to his. Her lips did not move, yet he heard her voice speak to him.
    â€œ Trust me ,” it said.
    And he knew that it was Syl who was doing this, Syl who was holding them in place, Syl who was keeping them from acting against the incoming threat. They had no choice but to do as she said. She had taken all other options from them. Even Meia had lifted her hands from the controls.
    Syl’s influence might have reduced Paul’s fear of the alien threat, but as he stood fixed in place, watching the unknown object grow from a gleaming dot to a revolving orb the size of a small car, his fear of Syl increased. Trust : she had picked the very word that had passed through his mind only moments before. Was it a coincidence, or had she somehow been listening to his thoughts? Could she do that? Were her powers that great?
    And then the extent of Syl’s abilities, and the alien ship, and the orb, were no longer his only sources of concern. The Derith wormhole behind them bloomed for an instant, like a flower opening then collapsing upon itself, and from it emerged another threat: the sleek silver form of the Illyri hunter, a ship of the Diplomatic Corps that had been pursuing them for days, seeking their destruction. From the corner of his eye, he followed its approach on the screens embedded in the intelligent glass of the cockpit windows, so that it was superimposed over the reality of the alien vessel, like a small pale ghost.
    Syl’s hold over him diminished as she was distracted by the new arrival. Immediately he barked instructions to his crew.
    â€œSteven, hard to port, then come around. Rizzo, prepare to engage. The Diplomat ship is closer, so that’s your first target. All weapons.”
    And then Paul turned to Syl.
    â€œDon’t ever do that again,” he said softly. “Not for any reason. Do you understand? I am in command of this ship and its crew, not you.”
    Syl seemed about to argue with him, then saw the fury on his face. She nodded, and looked away, but her eyes were like red-hot coals.
    Yet even as the Nomad began to move, its engines gave a deep sigh, and died.

CHAPTER 3
    T hey didn’t panic. Later, that would be what Paul remembered most clearly about those first seconds after the engines failed, and he was hugely proud of his crew for the way they responded. Rizzo, Thula, Meia, Steven, Alis—each contributed to the diagnostics check, trying to determine the source of the failure. They worked fast, constantly communicating with one another, each telling the others what had been done and what was about to be done.
    And all the time Paul watched as the Corps pursuit ship came around in a fast arc to bring them into its sights.
    It was Meia who came to the correct conclusion before the others.
    â€œOur systems have been targeted,” she said. “We’ve lost propulsion, weapons, and navigation, but life support and ancillary power are untouched. We’ve been carefully disabled.”
    Paul looked past the cockpit screens to the sphere, which had slowed its approach and commenced a lazy orbit of the Nomad . Beyond it waited the alien vessel.
    â€œThat won’t be much consolation when we’re dead,” said Thula, who was tracking the Corps ship.
    â€œWe’re in their sights,” said Steven. On the cockpit screen, the Corps vessel turned from green to red.
    â€œThey’re firing!”