Zakota: Star Guardians, Book 5

by Ruby Lionsdrake

  She laughed at his swift answer, but then raised a hand to her mouth, as if she wasn’t sure that had been the correct response.

  “I was the eldest, and it was my job to follow in his footsteps,” Zakota said. “As the first-born sons had done in our family for more than thirteen generations. But for a lot of those generations, my people were isolated on Amalcari. There was no access to the rest of the galaxy, nor were we certain anyone else was out there. These days, a lot of young people leave. There’s nothing for us on Amalcari. The seas have been overfished, and the galactic taste for our seafood has shifted, so few trade for it anymore anyway. But even if that hadn’t been the case… the stars always called to me. I read books as a boy, the stories of Herakles and Pytheas and the Black Hole Dancer. I always knew I would leave.”

  “And your father couldn’t support that? Didn’t he understand that you wanted a better life for yourself?”

  “Well, he didn’t believe it was a better life. He was always very spiritual, and he believed that everything you need for happiness is found here.” Zakota laid a hand over his heart. “And here.” He touched his head. “And in those around you, your family and friends. In a way, he’s not wrong, but sometimes, something calls to you out there, and not answering that call will eat at your soul and make it impossible for you to appreciate the rest.”

  Katie looked at him without answering, as if she were scrutinizing some peculiar deep-water fish that a storm had hurled up onto the beach. Maybe she was thinking about how weird he was.

  “And sometimes, you just have to fly,” he added, throwing in a wink to dismiss the seriousness of what he’d been saying. Why had he brought up all that stuff? He didn’t usually talk about his family with others, or the fact that he’d always been a disappointment to his father.

  Katie opened her mouth to say something, but the group was turning into the hotel foyer, and she let it go. Too bad. He would have been curious to hear her comment. But if she thought he was a nut, maybe he didn’t want to know.

  “Katie, you can go with them,” Hierax said, falling back to stand next to Zakota.

  He nodded toward a reception area where the other women clustered. Indi gave him a backward wave and followed the others.

  Orion was already at the counter, looking like an odd chaperone as the women surrounded him. Most of them. A few had already wandered deeper in the foyer to point at fountains framed by vegetation or the big pool-like guest baths visible through a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows. Nude people, mostly humans, enjoyed the water, splashing each other and laughing. It seemed weird, considering a war might be taking place only one wormhole away.

  Did those people know? Did they not care? Were they not worried that the Zi’i might win, and Dethocoles could be the first system of many that the aliens claimed?

  Maybe the intel Sagitta had gathered was wrong, and there was no war. Maybe the Zi’i had gone home.

  But if that was the case, who had been ordering people to delay Sagitta’s ships?

  “Do I have to?” Katie asked, her hands in her pockets. She appeared far less intrigued by the baths than the others. “Do you need help getting those parts, Hierax?” Her eyes brightened. “Or flying the shuttle back to the ship?”

  “I think we better let Zakota handle that,” Hierax said dryly.

  “You should stay here,” Zakota told Katie, though he wouldn’t have minded her company, preferably to talk about far lighter things than family. Maybe she would like some tips on piloting shuttles in tight situations. “If someone’s looking to delay our return to Dethocoles, they might not be done yet.”

  He touched the stunner holstered on his belt. He might have struck a more intimidating pose with a bolt bow—Orion had brought his and all his knives and daggers, but he was staying on the station with the women, so he’d needed to take all his belongings.

  Hierax also carried a stunner, along with whatever was in his tool satchel. The man could make explosives out of tape and spit, so it didn’t worry Zakota too much that they hadn’t brought Mikolos or Hammer or one of the other dedicated fighters along.

  “If that’s a concern, should we have left the shuttlecraft in the bay without anyone watching it?” Katie asked.

  Hierax, who had been trading gooey-eyed gestures with Indi, turned back at the question. His lips puckered in an odd expression. “She has a point.”

  “Are you volunteering to guard it?” Zakota asked her, though he was skeptical that anyone would try to break into the hideous shuttle, if only because of the ferocious reputation the Zi’i had.

  “Sure, give me a weapon, and I’ll hang out there until you’re done shopping,” Katie said. “I wouldn’t mind spending some more time with that simulator.”

  “We’re not shopping,” Hierax said. “We’re acquiring raw materials to build weapons.”

  “Are you paying for them?”

  “Yes.”

  “How is that not shopping?” Katie asked.

  “Because we’re getting the materials from a smelter, not a store. And we’re men. Men don’t shop. They make acquisitions. Right, Zakota?”

  “Whatever you say, Chief. We—”

  Zakota broke off as something glinted in the corridor outside the foyer. Something he needed to worry about? After the freighter incident, his instincts were on edge.

  Numerous humans and aliens streamed past, and he wasn’t sure what had caused the glint. Some people wandered into the hotel, but most continued onward, ignoring it. There was a shop across the way with potted trees to either side of the entrance, but he didn’t spot anything amiss. Maybe light had simply reflected off someone’s logostec.

  Zakota started to turn back to Hierax and Katie, but he caught the glint again. This time, he spotted the source, a metal barrel sliding out between the leaves of a potted tree. Someone in dark clothing stood behind it, almost completely obscured behind the foliage.

  “Out of the way,” Zakota barked at Hierax as he tore the stunner off his belt and grabbed Katie’s wrist with his free hand.

  He started to pull her toward the side of the foyer, to get away from the entrance, but realized that barrel—that sniper weapon—was pointing right at them.

  “Down,” he added, and tugged her to the floor.

  As they dropped, crimson en-bolts streaked into the foyer at head level. The level where his head had been.

  He let go of Katie so they could scramble to the side and spotted Hierax darting in the other direction. He hadn’t been hit, either. Good.

  But more en-bolts flashed through the foyer. One slammed into the glass windows overlooking the pool. Someone screamed. Glass shattered, and even more people screamed.

  “Security!” someone yelled.

  Zakota made it to the wall where he wasn’t in the sniper’s line of sight and checked on Katie. She was right behind him. He jumped to his feet and raced toward the doorway, following the wall for cover.

  “Get down! Everyone!” That sounded like Orion.

  Orange en-bolts streaked through the foyer, but this time, they came from the reception counter instead of the corridor. People outside had already been scattering, and screams of alarm echoed through the station.

  Zakota made it to the doorway and leaned his head and stunner around, intending to fire. But the sniper had moved. For obvious reasons. Someone had obliterated the potted tree.

  Zakota leaned out farther. He spotted someone running down the corridor, a human male.

  He leaped over people who had obeyed Orion’s orders—whether they’d heard him or not—and dropped to their bellies. Zakota raised his stunner and fired at the man. His aim was true, but the blow was absorbed before touching his target.

  “Personal forcefield,” he muttered as someone sprinted out and past him.

  Orion. He raced down the corridor after the man, his bolt bow in his arms. He raised it, as if to fire, but someone walking out of a shop almost crashed into the fleeing man.

  “Don’t,” Zakota yel
led, afraid Sagitta’s bounty-hunting brother would hit an innocent person.

  But Orion had already lowered the weapon. He pushed it to his back so it hung on its strap and ran faster, arms pumping as he chased the man.

  Zakota glanced back, making sure nothing was threatening Katie or the other women, and took off after Orion. He might not be the combat expert that many of the Star Guardians were, but he’d had enough training to be useful. Besides, he wanted to know why the would-be sniper had targeted him.

  He raced past humans and aliens, most of who were still down on their bellies or crouched on a knee as they tried to stay out of the way.

  Two security officers in red jogged out of a side corridor with stunners and shock batons. They took in Zakota’s uniform and didn’t say anything to him. Instead, they joined him in sprinting after the sniper.

  Up ahead, the sniper ran into a store. Orion had gained ground and was right behind him.

  Another security officer on a flo-ped zipped into view, coming up the corridor from the opposite direction. He sailed past the shuttle bay doors on his hover vehicle, clearly intending to join in the chase, but then a boom came from the bay. One of the side doors blew open, almost striking the security officer.

  “Hades’ wrath,” one of the men flanking Zakota spat.

  The two officers veered toward the shuttle bay—screams of anger and pain came from within.

  Zakota didn’t detour, instead turning into the shop where Orion and the sniper had gone, though he worried that explosion might have something to do with their shuttle. Still, better to catch one of the people responsible than to go look at some carnage.

  He groaned at the size of the shop he jogged into—a huge warehouse with all manner of clothing on racks that filled the floor space. Racks that someone might hide behind or under.

  Orion was at the back of the shop, the top of his head, his brown hair half-fallen from its bun, visible over the racks. He stood in front of a smaller exit that looked to lead into a maintenance tunnel.

  “Stay there, Zakota,” Orion yelled across the racks, waving his bolt bow. “He’s in here somewhere. I got to the back here first.”

  “Please, stop waving those weapons,” a clerk cried.

  Meanwhile, several wheeled robots carrying merchandise rolled back and forth between the racks, seeming confused.

  Zakota, stunner in hand, planted himself at the front entrance where nobody could get by him. He glanced toward the shuttle bay—all the security officers had disappeared through the smoking doorway.

  “Got a plan for flushing him out?” Zakota called, though if Orion did, he wouldn’t announce it where the man could hear. Maybe he would throw out a decoy plan.

  “Yeah.” Orion turned toward the door he stood in front of, shifted his bolt bow around, and fired at something.

  With the racks in the way, Zakota couldn’t see what he’d done. The clerk, who was much closer to Orion and had probably seen more details, squawked a vehement but completely inarticulate protest. Smoke wafted up from that back doorway. Had Orion melted the locking mechanism?

  A boom shook the floor, and more smoke—a whole cloud of black smoke—came from the center of the shop, from a display case of shirts.

  Zakota crouched, his stunner pointed toward the racks, certain their target would try to come out this way. And the sniper likely still had his weapon.

  Something clattered out from under the closest racks and rolled toward him. Zakota jerked his stunner at it, almost firing on instinct. It was a grenade. Just smoke or something explosive? He hesitated a split second, then lunged forward, grabbed it, and threw it as quickly as possible. Visions of his hand being blown off flashed through his mind.

  But it flew through the air and almost made it back to the shirt display. Then it exploded. Smoke billowed, and shrapnel hurtled everywhere, pinging off walls and the ceiling.

  “You’re ruining my shop!” someone yelled.

  The smoke flowed toward the entrance, making it harder to see. The sniper might be hiding behind a rack and pointing a weapon at Zakota, and he wouldn’t be able to see it.

  Zakota eased out of the shop so he could use the wall by the doorway for cover. He kept his stunner pointed into the shop, though he wished he had Orion’s bolt bow. If the sniper was still shielded, the stunner wouldn’t do much.

  The smoke stirred, and Zakota fired.

  The stunner beam splashed against a man’s chest—and bounced off. The sniper ran toward the corridor. Zakota held down the trigger and kept firing, hoping to drain the personal forcefield. It couldn’t have that much of a battery reserve.

  As he ran, the sniper, a bearded fellow with dark eyes, pointed a compact hand bow at Zakota.

  Zakota pulled back behind the doorway, but the man was drawing even with him, so that wouldn’t provide cover for long.

  A second stunner beam came from behind Zakota and slammed into the sniper’s chest. With a faint beep, the man’s forcefield died.

  He cursed and spun, as if to throw himself back into the racks. Zakota fired again, and so did his unseen helper. Two blasts struck the man in the back, and he tumbled forward, the bow flying from his hands and clattering across the floor. He fell down and did not move.

  Zakota looked back to thank his helper, figuring it would be Hierax or maybe one of the security officers.

  Katie strode toward him, a stunner in hand. Juanita walked beside her, carrying a—was that a branch?

  “Thank you,” Zakota said as the women joined him. “Where did you get that?”

  “From the tree Orion blew up,” Juanita said, though Zakota had been pointing at Katie’s stunner.

  “Hierax,” she said. “He was ushering the rest of the women into the back of the hotel where they wouldn’t be in danger, and I grabbed it from him.”

  Zakota arched his eyebrows. “Did you ask him for it first?”

  “He had his tools. From what I’ve heard, that means he’s sufficiently armed.”

  “Probably true,” he said, noticing she hadn’t quite answered his question.

  “Good,” came Orion’s voice from the store. He’d reached the unconscious sniper and stood above him. “I’m glad you were able to stun him. Sage would have been irked with me if I’d killed him.”

  “We should take him somewhere and question him when he wakes up. If security doesn’t object. They may be too busy to object.” Zakota frowned toward the shuttle bay door. “I suppose it’s too much to hope that’s nothing to do with us.”

  “Probably.” Orion tapped his logostec and lifted it to his mouth. “Sage? There’s been an incident.”

  “Is anyone dead?” Sagitta promptly answered.

  “Not as far as I know, but someone was trying to make Zakota dead.”

  Zakota felt his eyebrows drift upward again. He’d thought that first en-bolt had been aimed at his head, but he hadn’t been sure if it had been chance. Maybe he’d just been the Star Guardian closest to the door, and the sniper hadn’t been picky. He wasn’t sure whether to feel mollified or not that Orion thought he’d been the clear target.

  “He wasn’t trying to sell the wrong person one of his charms, was he?” Sagitta asked.

  “Very funny, Captain,” Zakota said, almost shocked by the question. Sagitta could get dry with the best of them, but he wasn’t known for his sense of humor.

  Orion cocked his head. “You weren’t, were you?”

  “No.” By the gods, maybe he needed to work on his reputation. “People don’t usually blow up clothing stores in anger to demonstrate that they’re not interested in my work. Or shuttle bays.” Zakota looked toward the doorway again—one of the red-uniformed security officers was escorting a Krrrn out, the man coughing and the alien making a blarphgh noise that was probably the equivalent.

  Orion sighed. “We better check on that.”

  “I’m ready.” Juanita hefted her branch. Her eyes gleamed, as if chasing a bad guy through a mall on a space station was pure delight.


  Katie merely wore a determined look as she gripped the stunner, ready for more trouble. Zakota imagined her in a Star Guardian uniform flying beside him on the Falcon 8. Though for that to happen, she would have to train on weapons and take Ku’s spot. She might object to being a gunslinger instead of a pilot. Still, he didn’t mind that image at all.

  “We’ve got someone to question, Sage,” Orion said. “And we’re off to check on the shuttle. It’s possible it was damaged.”

  “While you’re there, go intimidate station control into opening up a docking slot for the Falcon.”

  “Your reputation is more intimidating than mine,” Orion pointed out.

  “Yes, but I’m here. And you’re there. With a bolt bow.”

  “And a woman with a large branch backing him up,” Zakota said.

  Juanita grinned and slapped the branch against her palm.

  Sagitta said nothing, though he had to be puzzled.

  “I’ll report in soon,” Orion said.

  He patted down the unconscious sniper, extricated some weapons, and tossed them to the store clerk who’d followed him to the front and still wasn’t managing to be articulate. Maybe Orion thought they could be sold to pay for the damages?

  Zakota was glad that neither he nor Orion had caused any damage to the merchandise. The melted back lock was another matter, but at least Orion wasn’t wearing a Star Guardian uniform, so his unorthodox tactics wouldn’t necessarily get the ship in trouble. Though, Zakota remembered grimly, they were already in trouble for leaving Dethocoles with the kidnapped women. So much had happened since then that he’d almost forgotten about that. But he wagered the archons hadn’t.

  Orion hefted the unconscious sniper over his shoulder and nodded toward the shuttle bay. “Let’s see if we still have a ride.”

  “I’m going to be a little disappointed if I don’t get another chance to fly it,” Katie said, walking beside Zakota as they crossed the corridor.

  “Maybe the next ship you fly will have seats and harnesses,” Orion said.

  “Like the Falcon?”

  “I’m not sure Sagitta will approve that.” Not wanting her to have time to feel disappointed by that reminder, Zakota pointed at her stunner. “Thanks for coming to help.” He extended the gesture to include Juanita’s branch. “Both of you.”