Ricochet

by Sandra Sookoo

  “And that means what exactly? Kinda need details.”

  “Power on that engine is down to 75 percent.” Images moved onto his HUD. Megaris-8’s beacon seemed much farther away. Too many asteroids crowded into the viewfinder. He bit the inside of his cheek, keeping his comments to himself. It wouldn’t do to have her see him worried. “Don’t be so aggressive through here.”

  “We can make it.” She flexed her hands before fitting her fingers over the leather. “Don’t be such a girl.”

  His jaw clenched, but he didn’t respond. Did she never just let her emotional side loose? He held fast to the steely determination in her voice, marveling at her control. “Too many rocks to keep telling you about. I’ll take over if you’d like.”

  “Only if I’m dead.” She glanced his way. Her smile was still in place, only now it was strained. “That’s a promise.”

  “Sounds like.” Maybe this was how she cut up and had fun. He wiped at the sweat on his upper lip and closed down the ship schematic. “Let’s see what you’ve got. Personally, I don’t think you can get us there in one piece.”

  “Jerk. If I do, you owe me half the purse from yesterday.”

  “Deal.” She’d never backed down yet. How far would she go? As worry sank into his consciousness, he wondered how far he’d push her until she broke—or how far she’d let him. When he left her and took the ship, would she come after him, madder than the now-extinct Earth tigers, or would she commandeer another vessel, continuing on for her own glory? Stratton shook his head, tired of his thoughts centering on Willa.

  “Ace, I need stats. Start talking.”

  “Right.” Focusing on the HUD, he called out coordinates and obstacles in a steady stream. The ship responded to every slight movement of her fingers. Warning alarms sounded frequently as smaller rocks dinged the ship from every angle. One of the larger chunks hit the stern, prompting a warning from the computer.

  “Engine one failing. Please redirect life support and other vital energies.”

  The streak of vulgarity that tripped out of Willa’s mouth made Stratton wince a couple of times. Where’d she learn that sort of language? He rerouted the necessary power, double-checked that the other two engines were performing at peak, then let loose a string of his own curses when the HUD erupted in green light.

  “No clear path through the Belt. Any new ideas?”

  She thrust out her chin. “Hope you have an iron stomach. We’re going in.”

  Oh shit. He had no time, no advanced warning. One flick of her wrist sent the Anomaly spiraling through the field, first one way, then the other, until he felt sure his brain had been scrambled and abandoned somewhere back in the cargo hold. Warning activators sounded through the cabin, but he left them screaming, since all his fingers were digging into the worn leather of his seat. His HUD bounced, and static filled the headset, Willa’s commands and questions lost in the murk his mind had become.

  Finally, the endless barrel rolls and corkscrews ended, and she righted the ship. When he drew a relieved breath, the cabin lights flickered, then died. All buttons and gizmos on the console blacked out. Even the HUD left him alone.

  “Damn it! All your crazy driving has left us sitting ducks.”

  “Stow it. I did what I needed to do and got us past the danger zone.”

  Not for worlds would he agree. He swallowed a few times, forcing the bile down into his stomach, and even then it was rejected. By sheer force of will, he kept himself in his seat and didn’t run to vomit in the hold. Now was not the time to show she’d nearly killed him. Calming himself, he took quick stock of the situation. Life support in the slick suit still worked. Its quiet hiss of power provided a soundtrack to the tension simmering in the cabin. He touched the datapad’s display. Screens flashed under his direction. “Fuck. We’re currently in second place, and the field is gaining.”

  “Don’t panic.” She yanked her helmet off and tossed it behind her seat. “Let me check the main control panel.” Shrouded in darkness, Stratton felt, more than saw, her scramble to the floor beneath the console. Her labored breathing rasped in the darkness. Seconds later, she’d ripped the metal panel away from its housing.

  He flinched as her shoulder brushed against his leg. In other circumstances, he could have manipulated the situation to his advantage. Leftover adrenaline, surviving certain death and seeing her on all fours made his cock harden and press into the tight confines of his suit. He stifled a groan, praying to a listening deity she wouldn’t notice the erection when the power was restored. “Anything?”

  “Stupid question. It’s still dark.”

  How easy it would be to tell her to forget the race and take her right there. Perhaps, had they not been in the asteroid belt, he would have considered it. Now, he’d suffer in silence. The woman would be his death. Stuck in close confines with a raging libido would literally kill him, he had no doubt. Frustrated and needing a quick outlet for pent-up energy, he banged a fist onto the console. When Willa startled and smacked her head on the underside, he grinned. The smile widened as the cabin lights flickered a few times before they came on and stayed there.

  “Guess it needed a man’s touch.” He laid the datapad over his arousal. The HUD lit with green images. She deliberately stared at his lap, her lips twitching with amusement or annoyance, he couldn’t tell which. Didn’t matter, apparently, as his cock hardened in anticipation. I need a distraction and fast. The HUD provided it. “One huge-ass asteroid is coming our way. If you can manage to stop devouring my crotch with your eyes, I’d like to live through this leg of the race. Then you can use my body as your own personal plaything.”

  A deep, rosy color stained her cheeks. “Drop yourself into the nearest black hole.” She pushed off the floor and flung herself into her seat. “Preparing to edge around it.”

  “Be careful. It’s impressive.” He wasn’t referring to the asteroid, but his off-color humor wasn’t wasted on her. Willa made a choking sound, but she said nothing. “Engine one still down. Engine two not far behind. Ship’s life support holding at 85 percent. We’ll need repairs at the checkpoint.” That put a dent in his plans. Without a ship, he couldn’t nab Chaf and leave. Well, he could by hijacking someone else’s craft, but what would Willa do?

  He couldn’t worry about that. The job, the money, always came first, no matter how much he enjoyed baiting her.

  “One step at a time, Ace.” She touched a few red, blinking buttons. “I need full thrusters to lift us up and over.”

  “Will do.” He pulled a lever to comply with her order, and the lights flickered.

  The computer’s voice came through loud static: “Total engine failure in three minutes. All vital services are in danger.”

  “Damn it!” He swiveled to face Willa, pulling off his useless helmet and hurling it to the floor at his feet. “Let me pilot this bird to the checkpoint. I’m faster, and I can nurse the rest of the power we have.”

  “Go screw yourself. I’ve got this.” She pushed the steering mechanism forward. “We’ll land on the largest asteroid closest to us. Undoubtedly, there’ll be a small outpost or star base that can either help us with repairs or let us summon help.”

  “Right, an outpost on a medium-sized asteroid in a string used only by thieves and worse. Sounds real smart.” His stomach clenched with a giant knot of worry.

  Willa shrugged but kept her focus on the console. “It’s the only option. If you’re so worried, you can go in with guns blazing like some testosterone-crazed defender of the galaxy. I’m going to land this ship.”

  Willa held the steering mechanism in a death grip, all the while refusing to look at Stratton. Sure, setting the Anomaly down in dangerous terrain wasn’t the best idea, but what else could she do? No engine power meant becoming space junk. Not conducive to winning the rally or gaining respect. Once again, failure loomed on her horizon. Today was not the day she’d give up. What would her famous father do under the same circumstances? She gritted her teeth. Probably
find some way to fix the ship midflight and come home a hero.

  Fuck that. She was not her father, and she’d make her own mistakes, fight her own battles.

  Right now, she had to land this bird, get it fixed, stay in the race and ignore the way Stratton’s teasing and innuendoes made her body prickle with awareness. That lying, cheating galaxy-troller had no spot in her future. Men weren’t exactly sparse around Lingoria. She could have her pick of any of them, but…

  But nothing. He’s well-versed in charm and pleasure. He probably makes every woman he comes into contact with feel this way. She blinked against the flashing red alarm lights while maneuvering the craft through a series of smaller asteroids. She’d ditch Stratton at the end of the Trike, and that would be the end of their relationship. There was no need to think otherwise. With a nod of affirmation, she asked him to read off the coordinates.

  “There’s a poor excuse for an old landing strip a few miles ahead off the port-side. I’m able to read only one dwelling but five life forms—three humanoid. Atmosphere is habitable, although oxygen is somewhat thin.” For all his balking about being the navigator, his fingers flew over the datapad as well as the windscreen. Maps cycled through in rapid succession, their red-and-green glow the only indication they’d ever been there. “No one else is stirring on the asteroid. I can’t ascertain another building of any kind. Hard telling if we’ll be able to fix the ship, especially fast enough to remain in the race.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “We’ll have to risk it.” And I’ll do it to prove you wrong. A shiver racked her body. “If you were the pilot, how would you set her down?”

  Stratton grunted. “Quick and easy. You waste any more time, and we’ll never make it.” He shrugged and chucked the datapad into a side slot. “The faster you get in there, the faster you can hopefully get out.”

  “I’ll do that.” Damn the man for being so sexy. His smoky voice made her so wet she’d be reduced to panting soon. She felt as if she were trapped in a weird, human-nature study lab designed to monitor levels of sexual tension. “Hang on.” Willa squirmed, stopping herself at the last second from plucking at the hated uniform as its close-fitting fabric rubbed against her sensitized nipples.

  That would guarantee his censure, mockery, or worse—his attention.

  Concentrating on the ship’s failing systems, she pushed the Anomaly into the asteroid’s weak gravitational field. To her right, Stratton softly counted down the seconds until impact. She blocked out the sights and sounds in the cabin, held her bottom lip between her teeth and shoved the steering mechanism down. “The descent will be rocky. Brace yourself.”

  With little to no resistance in the thin air to slow their course to the surface, Willa scanned the horizon as it rushed to meet them. Yanking back on the wheel, she pressed the button for acceleration dampeners, hoping they’d have enough juice to halt their forward momentum.

  No such luck. An alarm beeped. No power to those services.

  “Five seconds to impact.” Stratton slammed his seat harness into place and braced his feet flat on the floor. “Three, two, one…”

  The rocky asteroid’s surface bumped against the bottom of their ship with a horrendous screeching of scraped metal and fiberglass. The computer’s voice began a countdown that would end with the cessation of life support. Willa bit back a curse and sent the ship into a slide along what appeared to be a long-forgotten, semicleared portion of ground. Reddish-brown dust billowed around the Anomaly’s nose, obscuring the windscreen until she was landing blind.

  “Employ the retrorockets. This boat has seconds.”

  Stratton’s fingers worked a few buttons on the console. “Aye, kita. Rockets functioning, but I have no idea for how long. Power’s draining fast.”

  Half standing, Willa screamed at the craft, demanding it give into her command to stop. The tip of the nose dug into the ground, furrowing a deep groove into the surface before the ship lifted slightly and came to a shuddering halt some thirty feet from the dwelling Stratton had mentioned. Another wash of red alarm lights filled the cabin. With her heart pounding, blood rushing in her ears, Willa shut off the near-useless engines and waited until she no longer heard their roar before turning to him.

  “At least we didn’t crash.” She frowned, not willing to think about how much damage the hard set-down had caused the nose. “You okay?”

  “Yup.” His hands shook on the console, but he quickly busied himself with unbuckling the safety harness. He stood, wobbling slightly, a hand at one of the HEPPs on his belt. “Stay here and let me do some recon. I’ll wheel and deal with the folks out there, maybe cut us a deal to get us out sooner.”

  She refused to debate what the funny little twinge around her heart meant. “Like hell.” Willa struggled with her harness, then once free wrenched herself out of her seat. “Don’t forget your zero-center belt. Gravity throughout the Belt is weaker than you’re used to.” Once she’d wrenched open a cabinet, she threw a weighted belt at him, then donned an identical one herself. “I’m not a damsel in distress. And I’ll have you know, I’m probably a better shot too.” As she buckled the belt around her waist, she shoved past him. Before he could stop her, she stalked into the cargo hold, maneuvered past the quad rover and slammed a fist on a silver button on the wall.

  “Hold up, woman.” Quickly donning the additional piece of equipment, he followed her as the back panel slid open. Three heavily cloaked men stood armed and ready with enough handheld artillery to bring down a herd of Lingorian cattle. She’d barely drawn her HEPP before Stratton clambered to her side and attempted to shove her behind him. Elbowing him hard in the ribs, she stepped forward. The men hadn’t threatened them, so there was no need to shoot first—yet.

  “Gentlemen, we’re in need of quick repairs. Can you help us?” Her gaze darted between the men. The only visible parts of their bronze-skinned faces visible were their eyes and the bridges of their noses. Lengths of fabric wrapped about their heads and necks covered any identifying features, or gender, for that matter.

  They also remained silent. Several feet beyond them, the other two beings made their presence known by slapping thin leather straps against their legs. One of the men was a six-armed Caringa but more squat and a deeper yellow than Chaf’s partner. Stratton stiffened behind her. The knot in Willa’s stomach grew two sizes. What to do?

  “It’s a desolate place you’ve fallen onto, miss.” The gritty voice definitely belonged to a male. He stepped forward, reaching for Willa.

  Stratton sprang in front of her, brandishing a HEPP. “Touch her and die.”

  “Ah, look, mates, it’s the infamous Stratton Sinnet. Maybe he’s dropped by to give us back the money he owes us.” The man laughed and tugged the protective fabric from his face. Golden-brown skin shadowed by dark-green stubble shone in the illumination from the cargo hold. “Protecting your woman won’t stop us from taking her.”

  Did Sin know every unsavory being in this galaxy? Full of unease, she silently agreed. These were the type of people who had nothing to lose, and the remote location offered open-ended immunity from any planetary authority. She and Stratton had fallen into a trap, exactly as Stratton had said they would. Damn the man and his knowledge of every lowlife watering hole in the galaxy. It was time for action. Once again shoving Stratton out of her way, she leveled her HEPP at the man. “The only thing that’s going to be taken is new parts for this ship. Now, we can do this my way or with the help of Old Trusty here.” She waved her weapon. “And I don’t miss my mark.” Her father’s tutelage saw to that.

  A round of raucous laughter circulated through the group.

  The man she’d assumed was the leader gestured toward the barren landscape. “As you can see, this is not a spaceport. The only law in the Belt is pretty much ours, which means that we get to take whatever we want. Why?” A note of culture mellowed his graveled voice. He glanced at his fellows, and they laughed again. “Consider it a tax for gracing us with your unwanted presence. Now,
if you don’t mind, step out of the ship.” The unmistakable ring of warning ran beneath the polite request.

  She half turned and laid a palm against Stratton’s chest when he would have surged forward. Muscles bunched and tensed beneath her hand. “What makes you think we’ll do anything you say?” Her finger caressed the trigger, but on the off chance they weren’t villains, she couldn’t bring herself to shoot. No sense in bringing galactic authorities down on her head if she didn’t have to. Imagine what her father would say about that.

  “I guess you’ll have to trust me.” The leader thug’s hand snaked out so fast she couldn’t regain her position in the hold as he dragged her to the ground. “Or, I can do this.” He snapped the fingers of his free hand.

  The whir of a charging HEPP filled the air, followed by a string of violent cursing and a hiss of pain from Stratton. Willa had enough time to glance over her shoulder at him, her eyes widening at a gash in the left shoulder of his slick suit. They’d shot him! No one got to rough up her navigator but her.

  “Bastard.” She wrestled with her captor, nearly wriggled out of his grip twice, but the other cloaked men joined the fray. A well-aimed kick connected with someone’s soft groin region, and a flying elbow cocked another on the chin. The jolt from the blow shot up her arm, temporarily numbing her enough to loosen her grip on the HEPP. The third man promptly jerked it from her hand, turning the weapon on her while the remaining two men boarded the Anomaly.

  “Stratton, do something!” Her heart thumped so hard she felt it in her throat. She weakened in the thin air. Black spots danced before her eyes, and she shook her head to clear her vision. She struggled with her captor, but even she knew it was hopeless when the two men she’d injured grabbed her arms. They both reeked of tobacco smoke and liquor that smelled of turpentine.

  “Little busy here.” A groan, then a gasp, followed his statement. Sounds of a fistfight ensued, yet Willa couldn’t confirm who was winning, since she was held fast between two thugs.