Planet Killer (Star Kingdom Book 6)

by Lindsay Buroker

  “Tristan and I can go to help,” Asger said.

  Tristan nodded. “As long as someone can loan me a galaxy suit and a couple of weapons.”

  Qin wanted to volunteer to help, too, but she couldn’t leave Bonita.

  But Casmir shook his head. “I’m sure they won’t be so distracted that they won’t scan us as we approach. If they see extra men inside, they may believe Johnny Twelve Toes is being dishonest with them.”

  “Won’t they sense the crushers?” Bjarke asked.

  “No. They were designed not to give off significant heat or energy signatures.”

  Bjarke returned to considering Casmir thoughtfully. Still deciding if he trusted him?

  “I’ll do it,” he finally said.

  “How are you going to play Toes without your tattoos?” Bonita asked.

  “I’ll have to hope they don’t have pictures of Johnny Twelve Toes in this system. Unless you have a way to apply fake tattoos.”

  “I have a makeup kit.” Bonita’s eyes twinkled.

  “I have nail paint,” Qin added, “and some stuff for stenciling skin.”

  Bjarke appeared more horrified by these suggestions than anything Casmir had mentioned, but he let Bonita lead him off by the hand.

  “What are we going to do?” Asger asked Tristan.

  “Where is this ship going?” Tristan waved a finger to indicate the Dragon. “Back to the station? Did you come out here looking for us?” He shifted his finger to include himself and Casmir.

  “Just you, actually,” Asger said. “I knew Kim and Casmir were up to something.”

  “I wish I had.”

  “Sorry, Tristan,” Casmir said. “Had I known you were the type to fling yourself into danger to rescue a near-stranger, I would have tried to warn you not to.”

  “I was a knight,” Tristan said, as if that explained everything.

  “Yes, I should have realized.” Casmir smiled.

  “Bonita was hired to find Scholar Serg Sunflyer,” Qin pointed out. “We’ve been heading this way, in addition to looking for Tristan, believing that Dubashi might have kidnapped him, and he might be in the base.”

  Casmir scratched his jaw. “If Dubashi had Scholar Sunflyer—or has him now—why would he need Kim?”

  “Are you suggesting,” Qin said, “Scholar Sunflyer might be dead?”

  “Or escaped?” Casmir sounded wishful.

  “We could go look for him,” Tristan said, waving at himself and Asger, “if we can find a way to sneak in with Casmir and Bjarke. I agree that a simple freighter should stay away from the mercenaries.”

  “This is not a simple freighter,” Viggo announced. “I am complicated, emotionally sensitive, and have hidden depths.”

  “And you’re a big snoop,” Qin said.

  “You’re standing in the middle of my cargo hold. It’s not as if I’m using special spy equipment to listen to your conversation.”

  “Casmir,” Asger said. “If we stowed away in your shuttle, could you make some kind of scanner-scrambling box we could hide in?”

  “Uhm.” Casmir gazed around the cargo hold, which was mostly empty since they had unloaded their last freight at the station, and then toward engineering. He tapped a rhythm on his thigh as his gaze kept roving, finally coming back and landing on… his crushers? A smile curved his lips. “Zee, you make a fantastic couch.”

  Qin blinked. What?

  “I am a capable chameleon,” the crusher said.

  “A large hollow box should be a simple matter,” Casmir said.

  “Extremely simple.”

  Asger’s eyebrows rose. “That’s not the scanner-scrambling material I had in mind, Casmir.”

  “And yet, it could work if he makes the sides thick enough, and I wouldn’t have to build anything. The crushers are already designed not to register on scans.”

  “I don’t understand,” Tristan said.

  Zee melted like candle wax, then expanded and formed into a box as tall as Casmir. The top opened like a regular lid on hinges that appeared identical to the rest of the tarry black material.

  Tristan’s jaw dropped. Even Asger, who had seen Zee transform before, gaped. Zee opened and closed the lid a couple of times, sealing the seams the last time so that his hollow box was impermeable.

  “Oh man,” Tristan said, understanding dawning. “I just spent three days stuck in a locker on a shuttle. At least that wasn’t airtight.”

  “How did you go to the bathroom?” Qin asked.

  “A couple of times, after the mercenaries got off, I was able to sneak out and use the shuttle’s lav. A couple of times… I wasn’t.”

  “Ew.”

  “And here Rache was worried about me throwing up in there.” Casmir patted the Zee-box on the side. “Zee, can you make air holes?”

  Zee melted and re-formed into his original bipedal shape. “It is possible a scanner would detect something inside of me if there were holes.”

  “Bonita has air tanks,” Asger said, “and Tristan can borrow a galaxy suit, I’m sure. I’ll get your pertundo so you can use it for one more mission.”

  Tristan had grown ashen at the sight of the box-without-airholes, but he lifted his chin at this last sentence. “My pertundo? I would like to put it to use one more time.”

  “I assume we won’t have to share a box?” Asger asked.

  “If Zee can make a box, the others can,” Casmir said.

  “I will instruct them in the ways of versatility,” Zee said.

  “We do not need instruction on how to form a box,” another said, with a touch of Zee’s haughtiness.

  “I believe we have a plan,” Casmir said.

  Asger drew Qin aside as Casmir and Tristan went off, perhaps to hunt for a galaxy suit. “A third crusher could probably make another box if you want to come along.”

  “I’ve been considering it. Cats love boxes, you know.”

  He blinked. “What?”

  “I see you didn’t have pets growing up.”

  “Not cats. I had a dog when I was a kid. He mostly ate boxes. At least when he was younger. When he got older, he was more likely to lift his leg and, uh, never mind.”

  “That is one thing I would not suggest doing to a crusher.”

  “No,” Asger agreed. “I think not.”

  Qin was tempted to ask Bonita if she could go on the mission—if Scholar Sunflyer was inside the base, she could get him herself—but if Bonita and the Dragon ran afoul of some of the mercenary ships and got into trouble, Qin wouldn’t forgive herself if she wasn’t there to help. She remembered the mercenary captain that Bonita had tricked when they first came into the system. Would those ships be at the meeting?

  “I’ll stay here,” Qin said, then gripped his hands. “But I want you to be careful, so you can come back to me and braid my unicorn’s tail again.”

  He studied her hands, then lifted them and held them to his chest. He glanced around the hold—only the crushers remained, and they were busy turning into practice boxes—then eased closer to her.

  “I want you to know how much your support means to me,” he said, gazing into her eyes. “You’re very special.”

  As she gazed back into his beautiful blue eyes, her heart captivated, she mumbled something incoherent, momentarily forgetting how to form words. Then, before she lost her courage, she leaned in and kissed him. He smiled against her lips and kissed her back.

  Nearby, the lids of box-shaped-crushers thunked as they experimented, but she had no trouble ignoring it.

  “Qin,” Bonita called sometime later, her voice drifting down the ladder well from above. “I need you to come stencil a pirate.”

  Asger drew back, his smile crooked. “How much would I have to pay you to paint a penis on his cheek?”

  “I don’t have one of those in my stencil kit.”

  “I guess you don’t have the erotic collection. Or the anatomical education collection.”

  “No. There are forest creatures and ponies.”
/>
  Asger’s smile grew wicked. “I’d also pay well to see Johnny Twelve Toes walk into the enemy base with a pony on his cheek.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  25

  Yas was checking the progress of the medical nanites and waiting for Jess to wake up when Kim Sato walked hesitantly into sickbay. A guard loomed in the corridor but didn’t follow her in, nor was Rache anywhere in sight. Yas didn’t know if she was guest or prisoner or some mix of the two, but it seemed nobody was worried she would attack him if left unsupervised. Likely true, but it did make him wonder if Rache had forgotten about her proclivity for kicking his mercenaries.

  “Good morning, Dr. Peshlakai,” Kim said, her gaze shifting to the prone Jess on one of the sickbay beds.

  “So formal. We’ve mutinied together. I think you can call me Yas.”

  “I’m not one of his crew, so I didn’t mutiny. I attempted to escape while suborning you.”

  “I’m not sure which scenario is least flattering for me.”

  “I hope you weren’t punished.” She gave him a probing frown.

  “Not by the captain. The mercenaries were not pleased with me. I’ve been forced to remind them that it’s unwise to threaten a man who may one day be standing over your unconscious body, with access to all manner of deadly drugs.”

  “Are you allowed to do that? Threaten to kill patients? It seems contrary to the Hippocratic Oath.”

  “I believe I can threaten them all day long. I can’t actually harm them. But they don’t know that.”

  “That seems like a loose interpretation,” Kim observed.

  “All of the modern interpretations are loose ones. The original oath involved swearing to Apollo, Asclepius, Hygieia, and Panacea. That’s not as trendy as it once was.”

  Kim came to stand beside him and look down on Jess. “Is she going to be all right? It’s been a day and a half. I didn’t expect her to still be unconscious.” She grimaced and lowered her voice. “Did Tristan inadvertently do serious damage?”

  “Tristan?”

  “It’s a long story, but that’s the ex-knight who was stowing away in Rache’s shuttle. I think she surprised him. He only sneaked aboard because he was trying to rescue us.” Kim grimaced and touched her chest. “I’m sorry Chief Khonsari was injured.”

  Yas felt pleased on Jess’s behalf that Kim remembered her name. As far as he recalled, they had only met during that unpleasant sojourn on Skadi Moon when Rache had kidnapped Kim, and they’d all been afflicted by the gate’s pseudo radiation.

  “I’m less sorry,” Yas said.

  Kim blinked a few times. “What?”

  “Of course I don’t wish anyone to be injured, but as I mentioned to you on the sub, she’s one of the ones who refuses to come in for exams. And she’s… the one I’ve most wanted to examine. To see if there’s a medical reason for what seems to be lingering physical pain from the cybernetic surgeries she underwent to save her life.”

  “So you scanned her while she was out?” Kim guessed.

  Yas nodded and waved to his full-body scanner. “She’s not still unconscious from the intruder’s—er, your knight’s—attack. The concussion was relatively simple to fix. The numerous fractures and compressed disks along her spine are what I’ve had nanites working on repairing. Since it was clear the injuries pinched nerves and were painful, I’ve kept her under a light sedative while they work.”

  “He damaged her spine?” She frowned again. “Or was it some kind of whiplash from the head trauma?”

  “No. Sorry, I wasn’t clear. These fractures have been there for a while. I believe they’re the cause of the ongoing migraines and nerve pain she hinted at.” His fingers curled into a frustrated fist. If only she’d come to him months ago. “And I suspect they came about because she was given cybernetic prostheses for the limbs and organs that were too damaged to repair, but someone didn’t think things out fully. Her hand on that side has increased gripping strength, her arm increased lifting capacity, her leg increased pressing capacity.” He mimicked squatting and hefting something. “And as an engineer, she has probably used her extra strength. Often. But not only were her upgrades not symmetrical, since she retains most of her biological body on the other side, but whoever did the surgery didn’t think to strengthen her spine or replace the bones with synthetics, so she could more easily support the greater weight she has no doubt been lifting, the greater force she’s been applying. Most of the mercenaries with cybernetic upgrades did that, but I’m sure whatever surgeons they went to knew the men were seeking enhanced strength and intended to use it. With Jess, the surgeon was presumably just trying to do enough to save her life.”

  “Talking about my condition to strangers, Doc?” Jess slurred from the bed. “That’s a little rude.”

  “This is Kim Sato. You remember her, right? She saved our lives. She’s not a stranger. She’s—”

  “The captain’s girl, I know. I was just teasing.”

  Kim’s eyebrows flew up at being called the captain’s girl. Yas was glad she’d heard that and not some of the more lewd and speculative commentary that he’d caught in the mess hall.

  “Still, you could at least rub my feet if you’re going to spill all my secrets to near strangers.”

  “Do you want your feet rubbed?” Yas would if she did. His fingers twitched in that direction of their own accord.

  “Usually. Sometimes, it helps the rest of me hurt less.”

  “I’m hoping the rest of you will hurt less naturally now. At least until you injure your spine again.”

  “My spine,” Jess mouthed, and then she squinted. “Did you do an exam, Doc?”

  “Just a full-body scan to assess your injuries. And a blood draw for various tests. A check of your vitals.”

  “That sounds like an exam.”

  “Does it? Huh.”

  “Maybe you should pray to those ancient Greek gods now,” Kim murmured. “She looks like she’s thinking of strangling you.”

  “The patients on this ship are on the surly side, I’ve noticed,” Yas said.

  Jess wrangled the indignation off her face—and did not strangle him. “What about my spine?” She swallowed. “Is it something that’ll keep me from working? I don’t know… This is the only home I’ve got anymore, Doc.”

  Yas lifted his hands. “Your spine is on its way to being fully healed. You should feel better than you have in some time.” He didn’t mention that she might be able to more easily wean herself off the trylochanix now. One battle at a time. “However, I am going to recommend you see a cybernetic surgeon with an excellent track record, because I think you’ll need some spine enhancements to keep from hurting yourself again.”

  She crinkled her nose. “That sounds invasive.”

  “It is an invasive surgery, but most of the mercenaries have done it and survived it, if that helps.”

  “Not really. I’ve seen those guys eat bullets and pull each other’s fingernails out on dares.”

  “You could try a girdle.”

  “A what?”

  “A girdle designed specifically for back support.”

  There was that nose crinkle again. As a professional, he shouldn’t point out that it was cute.

  “I think that would get me teased a lot in engineering,” she said.

  “Instead, you should hurt yourself and deal with pain all the time.”

  “It’s the mercenary way.”

  “I hope you’re joking.”

  Jess lifted a hand. “Yes, yes. I’ll try to find someone to look at me. Someday.”

  Kim clasped her hands behind her back. “I know of an excellent cybernetic surgeon in Zamek City who works with implants and prosthetic limbs attached for medical purposes—cybernetic implants and enhancements for athletic or combat purposes are frowned on in the Kingdom, but she’s very experienced and good. I also know an excellent physical therapist who specializes in those who’ve newly received prostheses.”

  “A gird
le and a physical therapist. Just get me a cane or a float chair now.” Jess flung a dramatic arm over her face.

  “Chief Khonsari appreciates your input, Kim,” Yas translated. “She’s just feeling grumpy and distraught at the idea of needing these therapies since she’s only twenty-nine.”

  Kim didn’t seem to know what to make of the comments. “The physical therapist is Casmir’s mother. She bakes hamentaschen for her clients.”

  “Hamen-what?” Jess lowered her arm.

  “Uhm, kind of a stuffed cookie.”

  “Cookies sound promising. Especially after all the protein-puck meals I’ve eaten on this ship.”

  “They’re quite good,” Kim offered.

  “Too bad there’s no way this ship will ever go to the Kingdom.” Jess grimaced. “Unless it’s to bomb it.”

  Kim’s eyes darkened, but the door opened before she said anything else.

  Rache walked in wearing his combat armor, the helmet tucked under his arm. “Chief Khonsari, you’re conscious. Good.”

  “I woke up so the doc can rub my feet, and Kim promised me cookies.”

  “If you come to Odin,” Kim murmured. “Sans bombs.”

  “I wouldn’t bomb anyone.” Jess laid a hand on her chest.

  Rache did not comment on the cookies—or foot rubs—instead turning to Kim. “We’ll be there soon. If you’re still determined to come over with me…” He might have raised his eyebrows behind his mask.

  “I am,” Kim said.

  “Then prepare anything you want to take with you. I don’t know if he’ll search you or allow you tools.”

  “He?” Nobody had given Yas the story of why they’d picked up Kim, though her being the captain’s girl, at least according to the rumors around the ship, had seemed reason enough.

  “Prince Dubashi,” Rache said, “is in the market for a bacteriologist.”

  “Why do I have a feeling nothing good can come from that?” Yas asked.

  Kim sighed. “Because it can’t.”

  Oku paced the paths of the tiny garden in the Citadel, longing for her greenhouse back in the capital, and the small laboratory where she worked on her projects. Frustration made her steps fast and agitated.