“A prisoner,” Leonidas said, his tone flat.
“With the way you’re wedged in there, I doubt you’ll get out in less than seventeen minutes.” She smiled back over her shoulder.
He gazed steadily at her, no hint of amusement in his eyes. The carnage down below probably did not bother him. After a lifetime as a soldier, he had to be inured to it. She had to figure out how to turn him to her way of thinking. Even if that seat was a tight fit for him, there was no way she would be able to turn him in against his will.
“What if I offered you up as a prisoner if they agreed to stop firing?” Alisa asked. “At the least, one of those warships would have to move away and lower its shields to let us fly into their shuttle bay. Once there, we could figure out how to get out again before they could actually collect you and torture you, or whatever they have in mind. At this point, they would probably torture me, too, since I’ve been seen in your company so often. So, I have a motivation to make sure we can get out again. Maybe I can jury-rig this ship to—”
“You said the Starseers got the doctor’s orb?” Leonidas asked.
“They did,” Alisa said, not sure what that mattered to him at this moment. “He’s distraught.”
Leonidas looked down at the wrecks as they flew over them, then toward the temple. Another charge exploded against its shield, and it flashed again. Wavering. Weakening.
Alisa glimpsed the Nomad, still stuck in its docking spot, as they flew around the back of the temple.
“Do it,” Leonidas said.
“What?” Alisa twisted her neck to look back and see his face. “Really?”
“I don’t know if it will work, but you can try. What I know is more than six months out of date. It won’t help them, but if they believe it will and you can use it to your advantage, do it.”
“All right. Good. Thank you.” Alisa sat straight in her seat and tapped for the comm channel she had already identified. “If they go for it, we’ll find a way back out again before they get a chance to question us.” Had she already said that? For some reason, her thoughts seemed a tad scattered. “This could work,” she said with determination. “We just need to buy a little time. Enough for the Starseers to move their temple and enough for Mica to figure out how to extricate the Nomad so it can sneak away in the mists.” Admittedly, the latter motivated her far more than the former, but she didn’t want to see the Starseers obliterated, either. Whether they deserved it or not did not matter to her. They still had the answer to the question of where her daughter had gone.
Leonidas grunted noncommittally.
“Commander Farrow?” Alisa asked, sure she had the right ship targeted but doubtful as to whether he would be the one to answer. If the Starseers had been muddling people’s minds, he might not even be alert enough to answer. “This is Captain Marchenko. I need to talk to you. Sapphire Status,” she added, referring to the system of color codes for assigning priorities and threats.
Several long seconds passed. Would they ignore her altogether? Maybe they knew how depleted the temple’s shield was, and they were completely focused on defeating it.
“You’re not in your usual ship, Captain,” a male voice finally responded. Commander Farrow.
“No, sir. The Starseers have my freighter locked down. But I’ve escaped from the temple with a prisoner.”
“Unless you have that Naidoo woman in your backseat, I’m not interested.”
On the other side of the temple, another Alliance Cobra was hit. It was only a glancing blow. The ship wobbled once and started to recover, but abruptly the thrusters turned off. It plummeted to the ice, crashing alongside another wreck.
Alisa’s plan to help the Starseers made her uneasy, especially when they could do that. Further, she did not know all the politics here. Was the Alliance justified in this attack? Even if it was, they were losing so many fighter ships. Was it truly worth it to tangle with Starseers?
“I have someone else that I know you’ve been looking for, Commander,” Alisa said, almost as if a mental nudge had prompted her.
“Such as?”
“Colonel Hieronymus Adler. I’ve heard the Alliance wants him.” Alisa had no idea if the commander knew why the Alliance wanted him. The three suns knew she didn’t. But even if Farrow didn’t, he ought to be aware of how much the government was willing to pay for his delivery. She assumed he would attempt to move all the suns and all their hells to obtain him.
“He’s your prisoner?” Farrow sounded skeptical.
“I’ve got him in this very Striker with me,” Alisa said, adding indignation to her voice, as if she could capture a cyborg easily any time she wished and it was offensive to imply otherwise. She pointedly did not look over her shoulder to see Leonidas’s reaction. “He’s drugged out of his mind and drooling like a baby. I don’t know how long that will last, so you might want to invite me in so I can deliver him.”
“You’re offering to deliver him to our back door?”
“Your front door if you want.”
“What’s in it for you, Marchenko?”
“I told you. My freighter is down there, and the Starseers aren’t letting it go. You blow up that temple, and the only thing I own in the universe gets blown up with it. I’ve got crew and passengers on there, Commander. Watching them get blown up, that’s a problem for me.”
“What do you want from me?” Farrow did not sound overly moved by the plight of her crew and passengers.
“Cease fire while I drop him off. Cease fire from all of your vessels.”
“You want those Starseer bastards to get away?”
“I want my ship to get away. Look, my engineer is planting some explosives to break their docking clamps. She just needs more time to make that happen. Then you can go back to pummeling the Starseers into the ice.” Alisa hoped the commander did not know that the temple was ambulatory and could eventually escape. “You think I care about them? We were prisoners down there until you came along and they got distracted. My ship is still imprisoned.”
“Odd how you got a different ship.”
“Odd? I’m good, Commander. Look up my record. This isn’t the first enemy ship I’ve stolen.”
Alisa slapped the comm to cut the channel. Let him think about her words and mull them over. Then if he was intrigued, he could contact her. She just hoped he didn’t know exactly what had happened back on Perun, that she had risked a lot to keep Leonidas from being captured there. If he had that whole story, he might not be inclined to believe that she had imprisoned him now.
“You’ve stolen other ships before?” Leonidas asked dryly.
“Don’t tell me you’re surprised.”
“Not really. I wouldn’t mind hearing the story.”
It was a silly time to worry about what he thought, but she couldn’t help but smile, pleased that he wanted to hear about her exploits.
“Perhaps I can share it while I’m digging those rocks into your back,” she said.
He snorted. “Perhaps.”
Alisa switched to the Starseer comm channel in time to hear someone say, “The eight are united. They’re targeting one of the warships. Just keep the fighter craft busy, boys.”
“And girls,” a woman added.
“Boys and girls, yes.”
As the Starseer darts kept harrying the Alliance fighters, Alisa flew up toward the top of the mist where the Star Nautilus, Farrow’s warship, lurked. It was still shooting relentlessly at the temple, but as she drew close, one of the ship’s e-cannon ports exploded in a smoky flash of white. That was when she noticed that three other weapons’ ports had also been damaged, if not outright destroyed.
The Alliance had the superior numbers by far in this battle, and the temple’s shield was weakening, but would they truly win? Even if they did, how much would they lose in the process?
The comm flashed, and Alisa switched back to the warship’s channel.
“Yes, Commander?” She tamped down her natural tendency to sound perky a
nd insouciant with the words.
“I’m taking the Nautilus up into the mist to get out of their range. Come join us in our hangar bay.”
Alisa thought about pointing out how hard it was to navigate in the mists, but she was more concerned about getting her deal and not simply flying into the enemy’s hands. She grimaced, hating that she was now in a position to think of an Alliance ship as “the enemy.”
“And you’ll cease fire?” Alisa asked.
“If your story is true, and you do, indeed, have a drugged Colonel Adler for us, we’ll help you get your ship back.”
Alisa scowled. That would not do anything to stop the fighting. And she did not see how Farrow could guarantee the safety of her ship when they were firing at the shield currently protecting it.
Alisa muted Farrow and switched to her regular comm unit. “Mica, are you there? What’s the Nomad’s status?”
“We’re still here. Enjoying the light show.”
“And working on a way to get out of there, I hope?”
“I’ve planted more explosives, and I’m ready to detonate them, but we have the same problem as before. If I blow them, it will most likely damage the hull of the Nomad. And it’s also unlikely that we can escape through the shield unless you can guide us out the same way you went. The sensors here read it as a solid barrier.”
“I had help getting this ship out. I’m not sure if my guide is interested in helping again. I haven’t heard from him in a while.” Alisa had lost track of which one was the robed pilot’s dart and had no idea if he was still alive.
The comm on the console flashed. “Captain Marchenko? Are you going to work with us? We’re prepared to fly out of range and lower our shields so we can invite you and your captive aboard. We’d hate for him to wake up while you have him behind you. Cyborgs are known to be irritable when they wake up.”
Leonidas did not say anything, not with the comm open, but Alisa sensed him glaring out the canopy and up at the warship.
“Yes, sir, I’ve heard that,” Alisa said, but she did not answer his other question. The warship was still firing down at the temple. Would it even matter if she got one of the ships out of range and out of the battle? There were two other warships.
She shook her head, second-guessing her plan. It seemed that little could be gained, and much could be lost.
Yes, it will matter, the pilot spoke into her mind. We’ve got a lock on the other two warships. Do it.
“I’m ready to follow you, Commander,” Alisa said, glancing over her shoulder.
Leonidas’s brow was furrowed as he gazed back at her. He looked like he was second-guessing his choice to acquiesce too.
She held up one finger, then touched it to her temple, hoping to imply that she was in contact with one of the Starseers. Everything would work out. It had to.
The Nautilus, as large as the temple below, rose like a small island lifting into the misty sky. Alisa followed in the Striker, contemplating pretending to lose the ship, so she couldn’t actually fly into its bay. Would that take it out of the fight for long enough? Maybe the commander would sit up there, waiting for her for the fifteen minutes the temple needed.
“We got one, we got one,” someone blurted on the Starseer channel amid spitting static.
“Confirmed. One of the warships is going down.”
Alisa swallowed. Was that true? She looked at her sensor display, but the mist had already enveloped her, leaving it an unreliable source. She could make out the ponderous presence of the Nautilus, but little else. Just haze and mist and more mist.
Someone else spoke on the Starseer channel, but it came out garbled, and Alisa could not make out the words.
They rose for several moments, Alisa following close enough to keep visual contact with the warship. She wondered how Farrow knew what the range of the temple’s weapons was. Would he fly all the way out of the mists for this?
She glanced at the clock display. Seven minutes had passed. The temple should only need another ten.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Leonidas asked.
“It’s getting one of the warships out of the fight, hopefully for long enough for the temple to get moving,” Alisa said, not answering the question. “I was told it would be enough to help.”
“Told.” He did not sound amused. “By one of them.”
“Yeah, one has decided to speak into my head. He guided us out through the shield too.”
“The same one who came out robed and led us to this ship?” Leonidas asked.
“I think so, yes.”
“You know that’s Abelardus, right?”
Alisa sucked in a breath. She’d thought that voice sounded familiar.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but are you sure you’re acting of your own volition, right now?” Leonidas asked. “I suspect he would like it very much if I fell into the Alliance’s hands.”
Alisa licked her lips. Had this all been her idea? Or had someone nudged her into it?
“You agreed to this,” she said, her voice uncertain.
He grunted. “Are you sure I was acting of my own volition?”
While Alisa debated her new concerns, the belly of the warship came into view, looming huge and dark out of the mists. Alisa switched from vertical to horizontal flight, almost bumping the hull with the top of her canopy.
“Their shields are down,” she said, realizing they had to be if she had gotten that close.
“Alisa,” Leonidas said, an edge of warning in his voice. “While I don’t think they’ll get anything useful from what’s in my head, I would rather not voluntarily put myself in their hands if there’s not a good reason. Interrogation and death are very likely outcomes here.”
Alisa nodded. “All right. You’re right.” Questioning how much of the idea had been hers to start with, she veered away from the ship, diving back down into the mists. “Mica,” she said, tapping her comm, “blow those explosives. We’ll risk the damage. As long as she can still fly, we ought to be able to get to a city and—”
The Striker halted with a shudder and a groan. Alisa gaped at the dashboard and echoed that groan herself. The shields were still up, but the entire Striker was being held in place.
“I’d been hoping their grab beam wouldn’t work in the mists,” she said.
Leonidas sighed. She winced, certain he was judging her for being weak-minded, for letting herself be manipulated. Damn it. What had she been thinking?
“Do you have a handkerchief?” Leonidas asked.
“Uh?” Alisa patted herself down. In her flight suit, she would have had something—you couldn’t have bodily fluids dripping from your nose and distracting you during combat—but she hadn’t thought to grab anything on the way out of the Nomad. “Did my creative flying give you a nose bleed?”
“Something like that.”
She poked into the dusty first-aid kit fastened to the side of the pilot’s seat. The lid opened with a creak, and she suspected it hadn’t been opened since the rusty old craft had first been commissioned. She pulled out a piece of gauze and handed it back to him.
“Any Torovax in there?”
“You want me to take an inventory right now?”
“You’re not needed at the controls.”
“Don’t remind me.” Alisa unfastened the first-aid kit and handed it back to him. She was vaguely familiar with the contents and suspected he would be a lot more likely to find a drug that would charge him with adrenaline rather than a muscle relaxant.
“Thank you. Here,” Leonidas said as the Striker started moving, being pulled inexorably toward the hangar bay doors that were sliding open on the side of the warship. Something touched her shoulder. Her belt with her multitool and Etcher.
“You got my belongings?”
“I grabbed everything on my way out of the basement and visited the armory too.” He patted the bag he had been carrying all along. “Where do you think those smoke grenades came from?”
“I had n
o idea. Are we, uhm, putting up a fight in there?” Alisa glanced back, wondering what he had wanted the gauze for.
He had already made it disappear somewhere. She did not see any fresh blood dripping from his nose.
“I don’t know,” he replied. “I think they’ll be ready for it. I didn’t get the sense that the commander believed your story about stealing ships and drugging cyborgs. I may end up having to chat with him, whether I want to or not.”
“I’m sorry, Leonidas,” Alisa said as the grab beam pulled the Striker closer to the open hangar bay doors, the vast interior reminding her all too much of the maw of some ancient mythological beast that ate overly curious sailors.
“It’s not your fault. For a couple of minutes, I was oddly amenable to the idea of going in too.” He growled deep within his throat. “Next time I see Abelardus, I will throw him out a window.”
The voice that had been speaking into her mind was quiet now. Why wouldn’t it be? It had gotten what it wanted, one of the warships out of the fight and Leonidas delivered into the hands of his enemies.
Chapter 17
Still in the cockpit as the Striker drifted into the Nautilus’s hangar bay, Alisa unfastened the seat harness and awkwardly buckled her belt around her waist, so that her Etcher once again rested on her hip. She did not know why she bothered when the Alliance soldiers would simply remove all her weapons, and maybe all of her clothes and all of her dignity, before tossing her into the brig. They would do no better to Leonidas.
Guilt gnawed at her, and she looked over her shoulder at him as the Striker settled to the deck with a soft bump. His knees were still up around his ears, his armored body almost folded in half to fit into the snug seat. She tried to manage a smile. “At least you’ll be able to stretch your legs now.”
He was checking his weapons and only glanced at her. Alisa did not think he was angry with her, but she wished she had never told him to join her in the Striker. She had fought without a gunner on numerous occasions. She could have done so this time too. He would not necessarily have been safe if he had gone in the Nomad, but he wouldn’t have been lining up for an interrogation, either.
[Fallen Empire 00.5 - 03.0] Star Nomad Honor's Flight Starfall Station Starseers Last Command Page 71
