Her hand slipped, her palm sweaty. She grimaced and dashed it against her trousers.
She’d been in battles on the Nomad before, but never when she was the pilot. The practice maneuvers her mother had made her cycle through hadn’t prepared her for this. But she found herself employing them now, fingers flying to take the Snapper through the evasive maneuvers that Jelena had balked at repeating over and over. They came automatically, and she was glad for Mom’s insistence on practice. The shipyard was still several minutes away, however, and she started to doubt her decision to head for it.
A thwump reverberated through the freighter as Erick fired at one of their pursuers. Visible on one of the cameras, a burst of blue energy launched from the turret cannon, lighting up the night sky. It took one of the yachts in the nose. The energy struck its shield and dispersed, but that had to have hurt.
“Good shot,” Jelena said.
Erick did not respond. A round of blazer beams struck the Snapper’s shields, and Jelena tried to coax more power from the thrusters. If the ship started taking real damage, Erick would have to leave the cannon and head to engineering.
“Need a bigger crew,” she muttered. If her grandfather were there, he could have waved his hand and made these ships crash—or simply leave them alone. Androids might not be affected by attempts at mental manipulation, but if there were any humans on the ship . . . “Erick, any chance the captains over there are human and susceptible to your charms?”
For the first time, Jelena wished she’d spent more time studying the art of telepathic manipulation than that of communicating with animals. The suns knew Grandpa had tried to give her a broad education. But there wouldn’t have been time now anyway. Handling the controls, trying to keep those ships from lining up the Snapper for a straight-on blast, wasn’t leaving her the bandwidth to concentrate on anything else.
The shipyard came into sight on the view screen, a huge framework orbiting the moon, numerous bays attached to its long struts and beams, a small station for housing personnel at the core. She was too far away to see if people in spacesuits were out, repairing or assembling ships, but numerous large projects were in the works. Even though she needed something to use for cover, she cringed at the idea of taking a battle into the middle of all that. Sane people wouldn’t fire into a bunch of civilian techs, but could she be certain her pursuers were sane?
“Got him,” Erick said.
Jelena had barely noticed him firing several more times.
“I think his shields are down,” he went on. “He ought to give up . . . maybe.”
The camera showed both yachts still in pursuit, weaving and banking as they kept the Snapper between them. A jolt went through the freighter as an e-cannon blast slammed into the shields. The flashing alarm on the console started beeping, warning her that power had dropped below fifty percent.
“To answer your question,” Erick said, sounding irritated as he fired again, “I don’t sense any people aboard those yachts.”
“Then we can blow them out of the sky without worrying about more than financial damages.”
“I am trying.”
Jelena adjusted her course, intending to weave between some of the beams on the shipyard where it didn’t look like ships were being worked on, but a huge vessel sailed out from behind the station, and her comm light went on. The heavily armored civilian cruiser sported enough weapons to blow up the moon below—and definitely any ships heading its way.
“Unidentified freighter,” a male voice said over the comm, “you will fly away from the shipyard at once, or we will open fire.”
“Any chance you can open fire on the yachts harassing us first?” Jelena asked, veering away from the cruiser, though she didn’t immediately head out into space. There wasn’t a damned thing out there to hide behind.
“You will not involve us with your squabbles,” the voice said sternly.
Jelena glowered, both at him and at the cheeky yacht flying so close it could have picked her nose. She flung the Snapper into a loop, certain that the android would fire soon. She was right. Despite her attempt to evade the attack, another e-cannon blast slammed into them at close range. The freighter rattled, and Jelena would have been thrown from her seat if not for her harness.
She spun the Snapper before it came out of its loop and veered sharply to the port side, a hint of nausea plaguing her stomach as the artificial gravity struggled to compensate for her wild flying. The yacht, still close enough to shave her legs, drew back as she smashed into it. Energy sparked and flashed as her shield bumped against its unshielded hull, and her big freighter knocked the yacht away. Jelena didn’t know if she had done any real damage, but seeing it spinning away, at least for the moment, gave her some satisfaction.
That satisfaction was short-lived as she glimpsed the shipyard’s cruiser flying toward them. Toward her. He must have pegged her as the troublemaker. Or maybe he’d heard from the authorities below that she had stolen goods aboard.
“Erick!” she blurted, a thought surging into her mind. “That cruiser has people aboard it.” She knew that from her brief conversation with the man, not because she’d had time to stretch out with her senses and check. She had no idea if the pilot was human, but if the captain was . . .
“Yes, I hear they’re often found aboard spaceships,” Erick said, managing a dry tone, though his voice sounded strained. He fired again, shooting at the ship she’d bumped, the ship now recovering and heading back in.
“Stop firing for a minute and see if you can convince him to join in against these yachts.”
For a moment, Erick didn’t answer, and she was about to repeat herself.
“I’ll try,” he finally said. “You know you may be starting a war between that corporation and whatever corporation owns the shipyard.”
“If we survive this, I’ll stay awake nights fretting about it, I promise.”
It was hard to hear Erick’s sigh over the alarms beeping in NavCom. Shield power was down to twenty-five percent. Flying one-handed, Jelena reached over and took a few shots using the weapons controls on the console. The second yacht was right behind them, matching her every move, peppering their butts with blazer bolts. If nothing else, it was an easy target. She sent a barrage of her own bolts into its nose. It veered up, but only far enough to get out of the line of her weapons fire. It came back in right away, firing from above this time. Jelena dipped the Snapper’s nose, trying to line him up with her blazers again.
White light flashed on the rear camera, coming from somewhere off to the side.
“Is that the cruiser firing?” she asked, fear surging through her. If Erick hadn’t had a chance to manipulate anyone over there yet, the cruiser would be targeting her, not one of the yachts.
An explosion lit the starry sky behind her. The Snapper’s shield alarm flashed a dozen times as its defenses were struck. Not by weapons, this time. Shrapnel. The cruiser hadn’t just fired on the yacht; it had utterly destroyed it. Thousands of tiny pieces of wreckage were all that remained.
Another surge of energy lanced out, and the second yacht, the one that hadn’t been shielded any longer, blew up even more spectacularly.
“Get us out of here,” Erick said tightly.
Jelena did not hesitate. Whoever had done the firing would realize he had been manipulated somehow, especially when the rest of the crew started questioning him. Jelena turned the Snapper away from the moon and the shipyard. They could do repairs once they were at a safe distance. The dozen-odd alarms flashing on the console promised they would need to do at least some. She felt pity for the animals down in the hold—they would have been terrified during that fight. She’d meant to give them a better life, not a scarier one.
“I’ll make it up to you,” she whispered.
“What?” Erick asked, his voice more distant now. He’d probably left the turret to head to engineering.
“I’m sorry you won’t be able to meet with your friends,” she said, realizing he was
losing out too. The Snapper wouldn’t be allowed to visit Alpha 17 again. She knew there were a few ports where the Star Nomad couldn’t go, but that was after years and years of flying. What would her mother think when she learned Jelena had gotten their new freighter blacklisted after less than two weeks of flying it?
“Just get us far away from here,” Erick muttered.
Chapter 6
Jelena found their cyborg guest in the cargo hold, leaning against the hatch and looking surly. She had removed her spacesuit and wore gray military fatigues underneath, but they contained neither name nor rank. Jelena didn’t know if they indicated the woman had been in the Alliance army before becoming a guard, or if her employers simply favored the style. The cargo pockets on the trousers bulged, perhaps with items taken from sickbay, but she wasn’t holding a weapon, nothing obvious at least. She could be hiding a laser scalpel—or a real one—under her palm.
Jelena stopped several feet away, resting the butt of her staff on the deck. Behind her, the animals whined and crooned and snorted. A monkey hooted—she was fairly certain that was the one she owed the fruit to.
Judging by the sneer the woman offered, Jelena figured she looked like some odd shepherd.
“You said I could leave,” she said.
“Yes,” Jelena said, “but something came up—your colleagues specifically—and we had to depart. You probably shouldn’t have loitered so long before deciding to try the hatch. Albeit, I can see why you wouldn’t be in a hurry to leave the luxurious accommodations of our fine ship.”
The sneer deepened, one side of the woman’s upper lip curling nearly to her nose. “The gray-green puke on the walls is hideous. Who painted it? A depressed convict from a military prison?”
“The previous owner was a smuggler. We didn’t ask to see his work history.”
“It feels like a cave in here. A coat of eggshell white with an accent wall over there would make it airier and brighter.”
“Er.” Jelena didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t expected their surly cyborg guest to offer interior design tips. “I’ll take it into consideration.” Assuming she was ever allowed to fly it again. “Anyway, I meant what I said before, even if events conspired against us. We can drop you off at our next stop, and you can get a ride back to your duty station.” She decided not to mention Arkadius—it would be better to drop the woman off at a space station along the way so she couldn’t tell her employers where the Snapper had ultimately gone.
“Oh, good. Because intra-system travel is so inexpensive.”
Jelena was once again tempted to point out that they had saved the woman’s life, but as Erick had mentioned, she still might not be grateful.
“Maybe your employers can reimburse you,” she offered. “Since you were wounded in the line of duty.”
“I was kidnapped in the line of duty.” The cyborg eyed the animals. “And I’m not the only one.”
“Yes, but the animals were happy to be kidnapped.”
The woman snorted. “How do you know?”
“All you have to do is ask them.” Jelena turned toward the animals, lifting her staff and smiling as she sent feelings of warmth toward them. The dogs wagged their tails, and the monkeys jumped up and down and hooted. One of the pigs rolled on his back, as if in a wallow. She supposed Erick would object if she suggested he build a big muddy pool for the cargo hold.
“Ask, right.”
“If you saw the conditions they were in before,” Jelena said, letting her voice grow stern as she turned back, “then you shouldn’t doubt it.”
For the first time, the surliness faded in something akin to enlightenment. Or maybe that was incredulity. “Did you break into Stellacor’s high-security facility to steal the animals?”
“Of course. What did you think we were doing?”
“Stealing research secrets for Regen Sciences. That’s what my boss said.” The woman shrugged. “I just follow orders. I don’t know everything, but who would risk their lives to steal animals?”
“We liberated them.”
“You’re spaced.”
“Possibly so. Will you give me your word that you won’t cause any trouble until we reach someplace where we can drop you off?”
The woman’s expression grew doubtful, but she didn’t object outright. She looked back and forth from Jelena to the animals. Jelena lowered her mental shields to try to get a sense for her feelings and whether she was planning duplicity. Just because she preferred not to use telepathy on strangers didn’t mean she couldn’t. It was just unpleasant. So different from interacting with animals.
“You’ll drop me off at the next stop?” the woman finally asked.
Jelena sensed defeat rather than duplicity, but also sensed that the cyborg didn’t want to give her word to be good. Who knew when an opportunity might arise?
Jelena caught an image flashing through the woman’s thoughts, of her leading Jelena and Erick in chains back to some man in a white lab coat. Wishful thinking, or was she truly planning that?
“If you don’t cause any trouble in the meantime.” Jelena nodded firmly.
“And if I do? What then? You’ll keep me aboard? That sounds like a punishment for all of us.” She sneered at the green bulkheads again.
“Which is why I’m hoping for a lack of trouble.”
“I bet you’ll get yourself into trouble whether I do anything or not.”
“In that case, there’s no reason for you to cause it, right?”
“Whatever.”
Such enthusiastic agreement.
The comm beeped. “I’ve got some information for you, Jelena,” Erick said.
“Be right there.” Jelena turned toward NavCom, but paused. “Do you want a cabin?”
“Huh?”
“It’ll be three or four days to . . .” She paused to do a few mental calculations, thinking of stations on the way to Arkadius where the cyborg could find transport. “Starfall Station. Four days, yes. You’re welcome to sleep with the animals, but if you want more privacy, we have a couple of guest cabins.”
“Being nice to me isn’t going to change anything. Stellacor is going to catch up with you and make you pay for thieving from them.”
“Liberating.”
“What?”
“I liberated living beings from them. You can’t own living beings. Thus, I wasn’t stealing.”
“What kind of idiotic argument is that? There’s slavery in half the system. You can own people, animals, bacteria, whatever you want.”
“Not in the Alliance. You can keep animals if you provide for their needs in a suitable environment, but you can’t own them. The government can take them away if you’re mistreating them.”
“We weren’t in the Alliance.”
“We are now.” Jelena smiled a tad cheekily. “Take a right in the corridor up here. You can have the cabin that’s the second hatch on the left.” She waved and jogged off, not certain the woman wouldn’t hurl a throwing knife—or perhaps a scalpel—between her shoulder blades. Maybe she should point out that she was the only pilot on board. Technically, Erick could fly, but he showed an alarming disregard for ship—and public—safety when he did. Freighters were not thrust bikes to be raced along a course at breakneck speed.
“I’ve given our cyborg a cabin,” Jelena said as she plopped down in her seat in NavCom.
Erick looked at her from the co-pilot’s seat. “Are we locking her in?”
“We’re going to feed her and give her some freedom in the hope that she’ll think twice about making trouble.”
“So, similar plan as with the animals?”
“Exactly.”
“Did you also offer her bananas?”
“Maybe I should. Leonidas eats a lot and likes his sweets. Cyborgs have fast metabolisms.”
“Are we sure that’s what she is?” Erick asked.
“That was your hypothesis.”
“Yes, but I’m not a scientist. Or a cyborg expert.”
“I suppose I could ask her what she is, but she hasn’t even told me her name yet. Asking her to roll up her sleeves and show me the scars seemed personal at this stage in our relationship. What’s your information?” Jelena tilted her chin toward the console, but the only holodisplay dangling in the air was the general navigation one, showing their position in relation to the stars and nearby planets.
“Admiral Tomich responded to my message.”
“Oh?” Jelena sat up straight. She hadn’t been certain Erick had actually sent a message. “What did he say?”
“The Alliance is aware of the assassinations, of course, and they do believe Thorian is responsible for them.”
“Even though there’s no evidence?”
“Just because the news reports don’t have evidence doesn’t mean Alliance intel doesn’t.”
“Did you ask if Tomich knew who else might be on the list?” Jelena thought of the doctor—Horvald—who would be performing Leonidas’s tests and maybe his surgery, one of the few medical people left with expertise on imperial cyborg soldiers. What if the assassin got to him before the surgery? For that matter, could their family friend Doctor Tiang, formerly Admiral Tiang, be in danger too? He was another imperial officer who’d defected during the war. Tiang was quirky and fun and not at all like most high-ranking officers she’d met. Her throat tightened at the idea of him being some assassin’s target.
“I did ask, and he said the Alliance could only make guesses. Thorian—”
“We still don’t know it’s him.”
“Tomich seemed certain. And since Thorian has been targeting some high-ranking Alliance officers as well as retired imperial curmudgeons, they’re implementing measures to stop him.”
“What does that mean?” Jelena asked.
“He didn’t say explicitly, but I read between the lines that they’re sending assassins after the assassin. It was discussed at the highest level, and Senator Hawk and Senator Chen signed off on it. Apparently, Hawk let Thorian live once when he had the chance to get rid of him, so he’s taking this personally.”
The Rogue Prince (Sky Full of Stars, Book 1) Page 9
