Buccaneer: Starship Renegades, Book 4

by S. J. Bryant

  Ryker grinned as he brought his elbow down on the man's back. The guard collapsed.

  The sword clattered to the ground and forced deafening silence over the room.

  Ryker bent and took up the sword. He held it in front of him, and turned in slow circles, watching the guards.

  Kari's heart resumed beating. She'd been sure Ryker was losing his head. Thank the stars he knew how to fight and had reflexes faster than a cat, despite his size. But now what? Ryker had a weapon; now was her chance. She slid her gaze to the nearest guard, but he'd been brought out of his daydreams by Ryker's fighting. They were all on high alert. If she moved in the wrong direction, they'd probably shoot her before she reached for a gun.

  "Better," Krispen said. He flicked his hand again and three guards lunged forward, swords raised.

  Ryker knocked aside two blades and dodged out of the way of a third.

  The blades clanged against each other, accompanied by heavy grunts as the guards and Ryker circled the room. The guards worked well together, had obviously trained for it, but Ryker parried and dodged, handling the sword as if he'd been born to it.

  Kari couldn't take her eyes off the fight. When the hell had Ryker had a chance to train with swords? She'd known he had an obsession with weapons—look at how much he loved his guns. But she'd had no idea that he knew blades as well. He moved and slashed like an expert, his sword whooshing through the air and forcing the guards back.

  The guards lunged in a coordinated attack, but Ryker back-stepped out of the way, then brought his sword around in a hard arc.

  The first pirate managed to divert Ryker's blade away from his neck, but it slammed into the side of the second guard's face and lodged in his cheek bone.

  Blood spurted from the wound and the man collapsed, Ryker's sword still stuck in his face.

  Ryker let the blade slip out of his hand and held up his fists, but the next attack didn't come.

  The two surviving pirates who'd been fighting him stood over their companion, mouths open.

  "Good," Krispen said. "Good. The mercenary groups will be happy to have you. Five hundred tokens at least."

  The guard who'd knocked the blade into his companion's face looked up from the dead body, face pale and pasty. "This was supposed to be sport, practice. No one was supposed to get hurt."

  Krispen shrugged. "He should have fought better."

  The guard's face twisted. "No, this is your fault." He jabbed his finger at Ryker. "I'll kill you for this. I'll tear out your insides myself and feed them to—"

  Krispen stepped forward and pushed the man's blade down. "Do you have six hundred tokens?"

  The man frowned. "No."

  "Then you won't be killing him, not today. You're welcome to buy him fair and square, but if you kill him without paying, I can promise Captain Blanchard will not be happy."

  The guard shivered as he cast a quick glance up at Blanchard who seemed to be enjoying the show.

  "Am I clear?" Krispen said.

  The guard nodded and stepped away from the body, but he didn't take his eyes off Blanchard.

  "Any other fighters?" Krispen said, studying Kari and her companions.

  Aydin stepped forward and before anyone could say anything, he snatched the blade out of the dead man's skull and swung at the nearest guard.

  The man only just managed to get his sword up in time or Aydin would have taken his head clean off of his shoulders.

  Kari turned her attention away, instead searching for some way out. She didn't give a damn what Aydin did. He was just as likely to get himself killed with his bad personality anyway. No, her only concern was escape. At least Ryker had done her a favor and killed one of the guards. Even better, he hadn't been punished for it. Two others were distracted and fighting Aydin, which only left seven.

  She and Wren could take on seven.

  Kari leaned forward and tried to catch Wren's eyes, but Wren's gaze was locked on Aydin and the guards and a manic gleam shone in her eyes. Why wouldn't she look the other way? Usually Wren didn't miss a thing, and now, right when Kari needed her, it was as if she had blinders on.

  From the uncomfortable shuffling, Kari got the impression that Piper had seen her, and not only that, knew what she was trying to do. Kari sighed and chewed on the inside of her lip. She'd just have to hope that the others had even half the observational powers of Piper.

  Aydin's fight didn't last long, but he didn't kill anyone. Kari couldn't help but be disappointed, six guards would have been easier to face than seven.

  "Another above average fighter," Krispen said. "Unusual. What about the rest of you?"

  Wren continued to stare straight ahead. At least Kari was glad of that, the last thing she needed was Wren giving away her secret profession. As long as the pirates didn't know about that, then Kari and her team had an ace up their sleeves.

  "Perhaps I should tell you what the other slaves do," Krispen said. "Then you might be more willing to admit you can fight. If you have a special skill or trade, we might be able to get you work doing that. Sure, you won't earn as much as a free person because your owner will get a cut, but hey, it's better than death. Right?"

  Kari said nothing. Aydin still had a sword and no one seemed to be paying him any attention. She caught his eye and tilted her head a half inch to the left, hoping he understood.

  "The final group," Krispen said. "Is only for your pretty boys and girls, so I guess that rules you lot out." He let out a short bark of laughter, but Kari got the impression that he'd made the same joke every time he'd had a group of slaves standing in front of him. "Except maybe you," he said and winked at Piper. "Although we'd have to wash that filth off you first."

  Piper stared at the ground and said nothing.

  Kari's chest tightened. If he tried to lay a finger on Piper… they had to act now. She jerked her head up, caught Aydin's eye, and nodded once. He lunged at the closest guard, sword out.

  Kari flung her elbow into the nose of the man who stood behind her. Blood sprayed out and he doubled over. Kari snatched the plasma pistol out of his belt and pressed it against his temple.

  A quick glance showed that both Wren and Ryker had reacted quickly. A man already lay unmoving at Wren's feet and she had a gun in each hand. Ryker had Krispen in a headlock.

  Atticus and Piper stood with their mouths slightly open.

  Kari pressed the gun harder into the guard's temple as she locked eyes with Blanchard. "Now, what did you say about negotiation?"

  CHAPTER 13

  Atticus forced himself to breathe. He'd barely realized Kari and the others were moving before they'd pinned the guards down. Even after spending most of his life on a military ship, he'd been unprepared for the speed with which Wren had slammed the side of her hand into the guard closest to her. He'd gone down with a dry choking sound.

  But they'd done it. Ryker, Wren, Aydin and Kari had got weapons and brought the room to a stalemate. This was it, their chance at freedom.

  Atticus allowed himself to stand straight and survey the room. He frowned. Blanchard still sprawled in her chair, her foot tapping against the side. Why wasn't she going for her weapon? She didn't even look worried.

  "Something is wrong," Piper said.

  A sinking sensation in Atticus' stomach forced him to agree.

  "What are you talking about?" Kari said.

  "Look at them." Piper took a step back and turned in a slow circle.

  Atticus followed her gaze. Aside from the unconscious guard beside Wren, and the one with the broken nose that Ryker had punched, they looked calm. They didn't even lean away from the guns pressed against their heads.

  A slow smile spread across Blanchard's face. She drew her leg back over the armrest and planted her feet on the floor. A series of slow, sharp cracks echoed through the room as she brought her hands together in mock applause. "Well done."

  Taylor grinned, glancing between Blanchard and Atticus' companions like a dog looking for treats.

  Atti
cus hesitated. The man who'd been knocked unconscious by Wren carried a second pistol. Atticus could probably get to it while everyone was distracted. At least then he'd have a weapon and be of some use. He had no idea what kind of game Blanchard thought she was playing, but Atticus knew Wren, and from the straining muscles in her shoulders she was only seconds away from killing Blanchard and every one of her companions.

  "Let us go," Kari said, "with our ship, and no one has to get hurt."

  "Oh, I agree that no one has to get hurt," Blanchard said. "But your ship—and your bodies—are mine."

  Atticus edged toward the unconscious man. Things were about to get ugly. If Wren got her way, the walls would probably be coated in blood before the day was out.

  "I'm not joking," Kari said. She pressed the gun harder into the temple of the man she held.

  "Oh, I know," Blanchard said. "But unfortunately, you're about to suffer from a change in the weather."

  "What?" Kari said.

  Atticus tried to read Blanchard. What was she getting at? Was it a trick to buy time while re-enforcements arrived? Did she have a panic alarm?

  "One thing I've learned," Blanchard said. "Is to never take a bounty without all the information."

  "Kari," Wren said. "Get us out of here, or I start killing."

  "Just wait," Kari said, then turned her attention back to Blanchard. "I don't know what you're talking about, but my friends and I are leaving. Now."

  Blanchard held up her hand. "I told you, you should have all of the information."

  "What information?" Kari said.

  Blanchard's smile widened. "That's the right question."

  Atticus' gut squirmed. Blanchard wasn't scared. Her guards weren't scared. There was something more going on than Atticus or his companions knew.

  "Well?" Kari said.

  "Information such as the fact that your gun isn't active," Blanchard said, leaning back in her chair.

  "What?"

  Blanchard waved her hand at Kari.

  Kari pulled her gun a half inch to the side and squeezed the trigger. A blast of plasma should have shot out, singeing the head of the guard closest to her.

  Nothing.

  Kari stared at the gun and tried again. Still nothing.

  "What the hell?" Ryker said. He pointed his gun at the floor and squeezed.

  Silence.

  Aydin and Wren did the same.

  "Now you're starting to see," Blanchard said.

  "Who needs guns," Wren said. She slammed her useless pistol into the nearest guard's head and he crumpled. She crouched low, as if ready to leap across the room at Blanchard.

  "I would stop right there if I were you," Blanchard said. She reached behind her back and pulled out a small pistol. "This is the only gun in this room that works, and I will use it if you take one more step. Stand down, all of you."

  Atticus felt like his feet had been glued to the floor and he was forced to watch the scene play out without being able to do anything. What had just happened?

  "Put the guns down," Blanchard said. "They may not shoot, but as your friend just demonstrated, they can still do damage."

  None of them moved. Kari kept looking at her gun as if it were a puzzle she had to solve. Ryker let out a stream of curses and Wren stayed crouched, ready to tear Blanchard's throat out.

  "Down. Now." Blanchard fired at the far wall and a bright red ball of plasma careened into the smooth metal, leaving a black patch.

  "Do what she says," Piper said.

  "You should listen to her," Blanchard said. "She may not be a fighter, but she's got more brains than all of you."

  A ball of frustration threatened to choke Atticus, but he could see how the situation would play out if they didn't put their guns down. Wren or Ryker, or one of the others would snap and attack, then Blanchard would use her gun. How many of his friends would die?

  "Put down your weapons," Atticus croaked. "She's got us beat."

  "Ah," Blanchard said. "Another pair of brain cells to rub together. I was wondering if you were going to do anything useful."

  Atticus ignored her and focused on Kari. If she put her weapon down, the others would follow suit. "Put it down. This isn't the time."

  Kari hesitated for a fraction of a second, then her hand snapped open and the gun clattered to the floor. It bounced twice, each crack of metal on metal making Atticus flinch.

  The others let their weapons fall, standing like defeated statues.

  "Better," Blanchard said.

  "What the hell was that?" Ryker said. His hands curled into meaty fists and red anger suffused his face. Atticus could imagine him charging across the room like an enraged bull and trampling Blanchard.

  "A marketing trick," Krispen said, returning to his chair. He'd managed to stay away from the fighting and avoid getting hurt, sinking into the shadows during the confrontation. "To find real market value."

  "What?" Kari said.

  "It's genius," Piper whispered.

  "Ah," Blanchard said. "The smart one gets it."

  Atticus tried to read what she meant. A marketing trick? To make them think they'd escaped, only to rip it away again?

  "What's she talking about?" Kari said.

  "She made us react," Piper said. "Now she knows how well you can fight. And how well I can't."

  Atticus swallowed. That went for him too. What were the options Krispen had listed at the start? Atticus' were fast disappearing.

  "Very good," Krispen said. "Although you've only worked out half of the puzzle. For example, I now know that that one can fight better than all of you." He pointed at Wren. "And yet I have a feeling that she might not have fought at all if I'd given her the normal test. She's hiding something. She's like a dark current just below a calm surface—hidden, but deadly."

  Atticus doubted that the man had ever even seen a real ocean.

  "And you." Krispen turned on Piper. "You think and notice things. That could have got me in a lot of trouble, but now it can make us a lot of money. I don't know about him." He gestured at Atticus. "But if he was traveling with companions such as you, he must have some value. Rest assured, I will find it."

  "So, this was some kind of sick game to force us to show our hands?" Kari said.

  Blanchard half bowed without standing up. "I don't pay Krispen's exorbitant fees for nothing."

  "I am going to tear your intestines out with my teeth," Kari said.

  "Not if I get to them first," Ryker said.

  Blanchard's cold smile didn't reach her eyes. "Take them away, back to the cell. It sounds like Krispen has a value for them."

  The guards—those still conscious—reached for Atticus and his companions.

  Wren tore her arm away and lifted her fists.

  "As much as I enjoy a good show," Blanchard said. "There are real guns just outside the door that I'm sure my men would be more than happy to use. You especially should be careful. Some of those men you hurt might never fully recover, and even the ones that do will want a pint of your blood in revenge."

  Wren displayed about as much emotion as she always did—none.

  "Take them away," Blanchard repeated.

  "Let them," Kari said.

  This time Wren didn't snatch away, but her narrowed eyes promised murder to the man who'd grabbed her.

  Atticus let himself be led away although his feet dragged on the floor as if they weighed four times as much as usual. For a brief moment it had felt as though they were just seconds from freedom, now they were as far away as ever.

  What if that had been their last chance for escape?

  In his travels he'd had the unfortunate privilege of seeing some of the slavers' blocks. They were bad places. He'd rather die than wind up on one of those.

  Hell didn't even begin to describe it. They had to get out.

  CHAPTER 14

  A guard lumbered in front of the cells, running a large metal spoon up and down the rows of bars, clanging like a discordant xylophone. "Food, you ungrateful
dogs."

  Kari snatched her bowl and joined the rest of the prisoners as they milled toward the front to get their meager spoonful of brown gruel. She stayed at the back, waiting for everyone else to be served before she approached the guard.

  He wore a puffed white shirt—stained yellow with dirt and sweat—and a purple sash that had probably been bright at some point in time. "Bowl," he said.

  Kari held it out between the bars. "I want to speak to the captain." It had been three days since they'd been forced to fight in front of the captain and desperation curdled Kari's stomach.

  "Ha! Keep dreaming, girly. Captain's got better things to do than talk to slaves."

  Some of the gruel splashed over the edge of the bowl and dripped to the floor.

  "I've got information," Kari said.

  The guard tossed the large spoon into the almost empty bucket he carried. "Then you can tell me."

  "No. I will only tell the captain."

  The guard's eyes narrowed, and he reached out, but Kari stepped away from the bars, out of his reach.

  "You'll tell me or I'll—"

  "What would happen to you if the captain found out you prevented her from learning valuable information?"

  The guard's glare wavered.

  "It's worth her time," Kari said.

  The man shoved a fat finger through the bars. "If this is some kind of trick, or waste of time, I will beat the living daylights out of you."

  Kari nodded but stood her ground.

  The guard turned and stomped away from the cells.

  Kari took the chance to eat her gruel. She'd need all the strength she could get.

  "I hope you have some kind of plan," Ryker said, sidling up beside her. "I don't think he was joking about beating you up."

  "Me neither," Kari said. "I have a plan. Well, not so much a plan as a strategy."

  Ryker groaned. "Kari!"

  "What? We can't wait any longer. They'll be selling us off soon, and before that Aydin will go nuclear."

  "And this strategy of yours?"

  Kari shrugged. "We've been around. We know things, know people. They'll be willing to negotiate."