Star Crossed

by C. Gockel

  “Me,” Leonidas agreed, his voice cool, his face a mask. His eyes were locked upon the pirate leader; he did not acknowledge Alisa whatsoever.

  “Never thought I’d see you hide behind a woman’s skirts, Colonel.”

  Colonel? No wonder he had been so comfortable flinging commands around. So much for her initial guess that he was a sergeant. The revelation did not matter much now, though, not unless he had outranked this would-be pirate king and could cow him.

  “That wasn’t the original plan,” Leonidas said.

  “No shit.” The pirate cyborg laughed. The men stirred, exchanging uncertain glances with each other. “So you’re the one who killed my bombers. Damn, sir, one of those was my own craft that I flew out here. You know, back before I had an enormous ship.” He spread a hand toward the ceiling and walls to encompass the lumbering mining vessel.

  Alisa held her breath, finding that “sir” that had slipped out worthy of hope.

  “You’re working with pirates now?” Leonidas asked, his tone neutral, not as condemning as Alisa would have expected.

  “As I was telling your girl, they’re my pirates.” The cyborg clenched a fist and smiled.

  None of the ten men watching said anything to deny the statement.

  “I took the ship, made the current leader my lieutenant,” the cyborg continued. “We’re going to start a whole fleet out here. I even thought I might get more of our old battalion to join. You interested, Colonel?”

  Alisa nearly choked on his audacity. After Leonidas’s talk of honor and after he had balked at her scavenging that station, she sincerely doubted he would be interested in joining up with people who fired on unarmed freighters and wore scalps on their belts.

  “You want me to work under you, Malik?” Leonidas arched an eyebrow.

  “I did commandeer the ship and do the hard work whipping these men into shape. I wouldn’t be looking to lord it over you, Colonel. You were always fair. Not like those human officers, all stiff from having their pricks shoved up their asses.”

  “We’re human too,” Leonidas said in that familiar dry tone of his. Alisa could read the disapproval in there. She wasn’t sure if the pirate cyborg—Malik—could.

  “We’re better than human.”

  “I see.”

  “Join us, Colonel. Join my team. If you don’t… well, I’m sure you can understand. I’d rather not get in a fight with you, but I can’t have you competing with me, either.” Malik’s dark eyes narrowed, a warning in them.

  Alisa lost some of her hope that he might stand down if Leonidas gave an order.

  Leonidas tilted his head. “I’d have to consider it. Let’s talk.”

  Malik hesitated, his eyes still slitted. “And your people?” He flicked his fingers casually toward Alisa, but she sensed a trap being laid. If Leonidas demanded that she and the others be left alone, would this Malik find it suspicious? How far did he trust what sounded like his old commander?

  “My people?” Leonidas grunted. “I needed a ride out here. She’s the pilot of this barge. I’ve known her for a week.”

  “So you don’t care about her fate? You rushed out here quickly enough when she started crying.”

  Alisa glared at the cyborg. If not for that armor, she would have kicked him. She was tempted to do it, anyway, but she would only end up breaking her toes.

  “I’m not an animal, Malik,” Leonidas said, that dryness in his tone again, as if none of this particularly bothered or concerned him. “I don’t want to see a woman tortured.”

  “Who cares about human women? You’re too damned noble, Colonel. You think any of them care worm suck about us?”

  For the first time, Leonidas looked over at Alisa, meeting her eyes. She held his gaze, but she couldn’t help but think of the way she had called him “cyborg” for most of the week. And “mech,” Beck’s favorite slur, when she had been pissed at him.

  “No, likely not,” Leonidas agreed.

  “Well, we don’t have to torture them. These craven bastards used to kill people, scalp ’em and make jewelry from their bones before I came along. They were trying to make themselves seem scary, or so they say. I figure let’s make some money. Sell them into slavery. The trade’s picking up nicely without anyone out here policing the Dark Reaches. We can make a lot of money. Carve out an empire of our own. There’d be nobody telling us what to do anymore. Say, were you in the station? Did you find the doctor? I figure the same thing brought us both out here.”

  “Oh?”

  “The latest parts he was working on—to make us stronger, faster.” Malik clenched his fist again, his eyes lighting up.

  Alisa shifted uneasily. Leonidas was hard to read right now. Was that what had brought him to the station? A desire for improvement parts? A little upgrade to the operating system?

  “I did come out to see him,” Leonidas said. “He’s dead.”

  “Damn. I was afraid of that when I heard from my new men that they’d found the place but half of them had gotten themselves eaten by animals while investigating it.” Malik thumped his fist against his torso, the gauntlets clanging hollowly off the chest plate. “I plan to deal with those animals later, but let’s go talk in private without the goons listening, eh?” He pointed at one of his “goons.” “Take the woman and whoever else is in that bolt hole and dump them in the pens with the others.” He extended a hand toward the open hatchway, an invitation. “Colonel?”

  Leonidas inclined his head once and walked toward the hatch with Malik. He did not look back as the pirates closed on Alisa, grabbing her and hoisting her from her feet.

  15

  Beck put up a fight, but he was too vastly outnumbered. Already disarmed, Alisa could not help at all. The pirates searched them, removed their weapons and valuables, hoisted them all over their broad armored shoulders, and took them out of the Nomad and into a bay the size of a hangar in the air yard back on Perun. Four dirigibles could have fit in it with room to spare.

  Alisa found herself twisting to give the freighter a long look as they traveled away from it. When she had first decided to find it and refurbish it for the trip to Perun, she hadn’t liked the idea. She hadn’t wanted anything to do with the Nomad. But flying it this last week had stirred up old memories, memories of more than learning of her mother’s death. There had been memories of the past and of good times growing up in the ship, of going on adventures with her mother and of meeting interesting people and seeing interesting places.

  As her captors passed another ship and the Nomad disappeared from sight, Alisa felt a twinge of distress that had nothing to do with her injuries. She was afraid she wouldn’t see the freighter again, and that disturbed her more than she would have expected.

  As they traveled through the vast mining vessel, Alisa tried to note their route so she could find her way back later. Unfortunately, she did not have the best view as she flopped about on her captor’s shoulder, her pain renewed as the armor banged against her injuries. But she had a sense of massive rows of mining equipment, of an indoor smelter with robots processing metals, and of huge storage rooms of unprocessed ore. Now and then, flying robots zipped overhead on some errand or another.

  They seemed to walk a half a mile before they reached corridors filled with what she assumed were crew quarters and the main living areas. All she saw were pirates and more pirates wearing all manner of scruffy clothing with all manner of weapons hanging from their belts. Many of them had scalps dangling from those belts, even boys who could not have been more than thirteen or fourteen. Alisa wondered if Malik truly meant to spare her people’s lives long enough for them to reach some slave auction. And how insane was it that such a fate sounded like an improvement over their current situation? Slaves. What a crazy notion. Slavery had always been outlawed in the empire. She couldn’t even imagine life toiling for someone else with no freedom to be found.

  But it was life, and if she was kept alive long enough to be sold, she could find a way to escape. One wa
y or another, she would make it back to her daughter. Of course, she would prefer to do it with her ship and to escape sooner rather than later.

  Her captors turned into a narrow corridor with old-fashioned iron bars lining the fronts of a dozen cells. Still dangling from a man’s shoulder, Alisa glimpsed unfamiliar people packed into almost all of them. Most had contusions, scrapes, and other signs of injury. Some of the women were naked. Her gut twisted with unease as she remembered how the one pirate had shown an undue interest in her ass.

  A pirate stopped in front of one cell and leaned a garishly beaded earstar toward a reader while others moved to cover him with rifles. The chip in the wall chatted with the chip in his personal device, and the iron bars slid up into the ceiling. Alisa found herself dumped inside, her wounds protesting anew and eliciting a gasp of pain. She rolled to a stop in front of a familiar gray robe as the bars slid back shut. The pirates left without a word.

  Alejandro helped her to sit up.

  “I’m afraid I can’t say I’m happy to see you here, Captain,” Mica said—she sat against the wall, her knees drawn up and her arms hugged around them.

  “Not happy to see you two here, either.” Alisa started to scoot toward a wall as Beck and Yumi were ushered in behind her—she needed something to lean against for support.

  Alejandro stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “Captain, I must ask.” He glanced toward the bars, but the pirates had already shuffled away. He also glanced toward a corner of the ceiling where a dark round smudge might have been a camera. Or a squashed spider. “I must ask,” he whispered, “did they loot the ship?”

  “Mica’s ruse fooled them,” Alisa said. “They left in a hurry.”

  He slumped back against the wall.

  “None of our equipment was scrounged as far as I saw,” she said, “but the Nomad is stuck in their docking bay, I’m afraid. Oh, and I watched the video footage when I was trying to figure out where you all went. They did steal our duffel bags, probably stuffed in whatever looked valuable in our rooms. Which wasn’t much in my…” She trailed off, the horrified expression on Alejandro’s face making her stop.

  He lurched to his feet, almost tumbling over her in his agitation. “Shit, shit, shit.”

  He paced to the wall, slapped it, and pushed off and paced in the other direction. There was only room in the tight space for four steps. A handful of gaunt, bearded men in the cell opposite from them watched him with hollow eyes.

  “Is he allowed to swear when he’s wearing that robe?” Mica asked.

  “I don’t fully know the rules,” Alisa said, watching his agitated pacing. She supposed this was not the time to ask him to look at her punctures and gashes. They didn’t have a first-aid kit, anyway.

  Alejandro gripped his hair, then shoved his fingers through it with both hands as he turned again. He muttered furiously to himself, and Alisa only caught snatches, “…get caught up in this… a fool… shouldn’t have trusted… fail. Failure. Can’t fail.”

  Alisa did not know what to say, or if she should say anything. She already felt guilty for getting everyone involved in this. Oh, Leonidas was truly the one to blame, but she had known they would be taking a detour when she invited her passengers on. And she hadn’t been up front with them. She had waited until they were underway to announce that the Nomad would be heading out to the T-Belt. And now this. If they didn’t find a way off this ship, the time lost for the detour would be the least of their problems.

  “Where’s our cyborg?” Mica asked as Alejandro continued to pace.

  “Communing with his own kind,” Alisa said. She looked at Yumi, half expecting her to lose her composure the way Alejandro was. At the least, Alisa expected one of her passengers to curse at her and make accusations. She surely deserved them.

  But Yumi had found a corner of the cell and was sitting cross-legged, her eyes closed as she practiced some breathing exercise. Interesting time to meditate.

  Alejandro stopped in front of one of the walls, placed his palms on the drab gray metal, and thumped his forehead against it. Maybe Yumi could teach him to meditate.

  “What’s that mean?” Mica asked.

  “Turns out the pirate leader is someone in matching red armor,” Alisa said, scooting over to sit against the wall beside her. “Oh, and they know each other. Malik is the leader’s name, but he calls himself Sublime Commander. He called Leonidas Colonel.”

  Alejandro was still leaning his hands against the wall, his head down, but he rotated his neck to look at them.

  “But I figure the doctor already knew that,” Alisa said. “That Leonidas was an officer high up in the Cyborg Corps.”

  Alejandro dropped his head again. If he knew, he didn’t care. Not right now. What had he been carrying in that bag that was so important? Some secret plans that would magically bring the empire back to full power? That was an appalling thought, but probably a silly one. One man couldn’t undo what had happened, not when it had taken tens of thousands if not hundreds of thousands of people and fifty years of planning and four years of all out combat to bring down the empire.

  “What does that mean exactly?” Mica said. “He’s not going to help us?”

  “I don’t know,” Alisa said, “but he and Malik walked off practically arm in arm, and he didn’t look back at me. He seemed fine with the idea that we’d be sold into slavery.”

  “Slavery?” Mica pointed a finger at Alisa’s nose. “Captain, this is why I’m always pessimistic. Bad things happen all the time. Good things are an oddity.”

  “They certainly have been this week.” Alisa let her head clunk back against the wall. It hurt, but not any more than the rest of her body. “Alejandro?” she asked carefully, worried that he would snap at her and blame her for all this. “If you know something about Leonidas that could help us… I mean, should he deign to visit us or if our paths should cross before we leave this ship, if there was something we could say to persuade him—”

  “You mean to blackmail him,” Mica interrupted.

  “Persuade him,” Alisa emphasized. “If there is something, I’d sure like to know so I could try to use it.”

  “I would be open to blackmailing him,” Beck said. The pirates had removed his armor, and he almost looked small without it. It did not help that he wore a sad, defeated expression as he slumped against the wall.

  “I only know him by reputation,” Alejandro said, looking at the wall instead of her. “He was around the capital from time to time, getting orders for his troops.”

  “The Cyborg Corps?”

  “The Cyborg Corps.”

  “Was he in charge of them? All of them?”

  Alejandro lowered his hands. “Do you have any thoughts as to how to get out of here?”

  “Not yet,” Alisa said, surprised he was looking at her. “Why, did you expect some genius ideas to pop out of my head?”

  “You’ve done satisfactorily so far. And you seem determined.”

  “I’ve got a reason to be determined.” Alisa pictured her daughter’s face in her mind, wishing it hadn’t been so long since she had seen it in more than a photograph.

  “Good. As do I.”

  “Not just taking the tour of the system and spreading your religiosity then?” Mica asked.

  “Not exactly. Though I can prepare a lecture or sermon for you later, if you feel the need.”

  “I vote you lecture the pirates, Doc,” Beck said.

  “Seconded,” Alisa said.

  Yumi pressed her hands together in front of her chest and inhaled noisily through the back of her throat. Alisa wasn’t sure if that counted as a third or not.

  Alejandro crouched in front of Alisa, looking her in the eyes. “I have to get my bag back, and we have to escape. There’s something in there—the pirates can’t have it. It cannot be permitted. Our escape has to happen.”

  “I’m amenable to that,” Alisa said, though she questioned whether they would truly be able to find the pirates’ booty room in thi
s giant ship. If she got out of this cell, she intended to beeline for the Nomad and pilot it out. Unfortunately, with that grab beam of theirs, it would not be easy. She did not want to escape the bay, only to be sucked back in again. No, they would have to distract the pirates and find a way to disable the grab beam generator. She already had a daunting task without promising to hunt for the pirates’ loot. She didn’t even know yet how they were going to get out of this cell.

  “I’ll tell you what I know about Leonidas if you swear to help me get that bag. Swear it.” Alejandro sounded like a boy on the playground rather than a man in his fifties, but it was clear from his eyes that he was utterly serious.

  Alisa licked her lips. Hadn’t she just been listing all the reasons why looking for a few duffel bags would be suicidal? Was satisfying her curiosity about Leonidas worth making this deal? She might never even see him again. Even though she would like to think he would not take up with a pirate, he had taken up with her, hadn’t he? Someone he clearly disapproved of, someone he had caught stealing cyborg implants to sell… This Malik had a lot more power and resources to get him to wherever he needed to go for whatever the next step in his quest was.

  Aware of Alejandro looking at her, his dark eyes earnest and determined, Alisa took a deep breath. She hated to make false promises, but maybe she could somehow pull this off. With as many other things as had to go right for them to escape, what would adding one more detour to the list matter? Besides, if one of her people found the loot room and threatened to blow it up, maybe it would distract the pirates while the rest got to the ship. The brutes probably had a huge vault of goodies they had stolen from the miners and anyone else who had flown into their web.

  Alisa looked through the bars toward their cellmates across the way, wondering if they might be a resource. Eight men were packed in there, and she had seen numerous people in the other cells too.

  “If we can get out of here,” Alisa told Alejandro, “I’ll make sure we look for your bag on the way out. I promise.”