Fools Rush In (The Interstellar Rescue Series Book 3)

by Donna S. Frelick

  Perai.

  “Permission to fire thrusters, Cap?” The pitch of Dartha’s voice had gone up half an octave.

  “Not yet.”

  Now every face on the bridge was turned in his direction. He ignored them and watched the screen, willing the Octagon to continue its fruitless snuffling behind the stones in another section of the field. He imagined the scene on that ship’s bridge. Vort would be nearing the end of his patience by now, likely screaming at his crew to Find him! Find him!

  Eight minutes.

  The Octagon continued its zig-zag path deeper into the Ming Ra. Vort was surely not aware he’d left the way open for the Shadowhawk to make a run for the jump node.

  Nine minutes.

  Mo looked up from his sensors. “Reserves at 75 percent, Cap.”

  Thank the gods! “Sip, we need a course back to the node, one that allows for us to drift part of the way at first. Dartha, put us on that course with a short burst of thruster power. I want them to miss it if they’re not paying attention.”

  There was a heartbeat of stunned silence before both crew members acknowledged the extraordinary orders and reported ready. “Now. Go thrusters.”

  “Aye, Cap. Firing thrusters.”

  He felt the engines thrum briefly and watched the orientation change on the viewscreen as the ’hawk took her course out of the Ming Ra. For a moment he thought perhaps Vort had missed the burst of thruster power; the Octagon sailed on without pause. Surely they couldn’t be that lucky?

  Ten minutes.

  “Power reserves are at 80 percent, Cap.” Mo turned to raise an eyebrow at him. “Should I try raising the starboard shields?”

  “Yes, I think we’re going to need those, XO.” Sam turned back to the screen, where the Octagon had made a course correction. “Sooner, rather than later.”

  He felt the thrusters growl again and a dark slab of rock looming in the sensor screen fell harmlessly to port. On the comp-sim side of the screen, the Octagon had completed her turn. Their time was up. Vort was on to them.

  “All possible speed now, Dartha. Get us out of here as fast as you can.”

  “Aye, Cap! Three-quarter ID.”

  The engines now hummed full-time in his bones, and the asteroids shrank in the sensor screen, a function of the reduced magnification that was automatic at this speed. “Ot, stand by on aft cannons.” Sam wouldn’t waste anything on Vort until he had to, but he’d bet that wouldn’t be long.

  “Aye, Cap. Standing by.”

  “She’s in weapons range, Cap,” Mo said. “Coming in hot.”

  Sam hit the comm. “All hands brace for incoming fire.”

  The first streams of laze fire shot out from the nose of the Octagon and sheared off the face of a nearby asteroid. Dust and bits of rock bloomed into a cloud that obscured ships, asteroids and anything beyond on the sensor screen. The second shot fared better, striking the ’hawk’s aft shields and shaking the ship to her core.

  “Evasive maneuvers, Dartha! Ot, time to use those cannons.”

  “Aye, Cap, firing now!”

  Laze fire splashed against the Octagon’s forward shields, lighting up the dust cloud.

  Ot turned to his captain with a grin. “Got him, Cap! Direct hit!”

  “Dartha, give him our port side for half a minute.”

  Both crew members acknowledged and the maneuver brought them broadside as the Octagon raced closer. “Fire port cannons!”

  Twin arcs of blue laze fire raked across the enemy’s flank, pounding her shields until they flared and collapsed. Sam saw it and gripped the arms of his seat.

  “Come about, Dartha. Now, now! Aft cannons, Ot. Hit him amidships. We’ve got the sonofabitch!”

  “Coming about, Cap.”

  But not fast enough. Sam felt it in his gut; his ’hawk was not her graceful self and fought to make the turn. Ot bounced with impatience waiting for his target to line up in his sensors.

  Concussion torpedoes erupted in a swarm from the Octagon, slamming into the port shields, knocking Sam and everyone else standing to their knees. The ’hawk bucked and yawed with the impact. Connections snapped in the bridge control panels, throwing sparks and smoke into the air. Outside the ship, a few torpedoes found targets in nearby asteroids, exploding them into dust. The sensors picked up little but a swirl of multicolored gas and tiny fragments.

  On his knees on the deck, Sam wiped something warm and wet from his brow; his hand came away bloody. “Ot! Tell me you’re lined up!”

  “Firing aft cannons.”

  Even in the chaos of the bridge under attack, Sam could feel the rhythmic thud of the cannons as they let go. He pulled himself to his feet and watched the comp-sim as the two lines of blue-white laze fire hit their mark.

  “Got him dead center, Cap!” Triumph lifted Ot’s voice.

  The sensor screen flared as the Octagon’s damaged engines became critically unbalanced and swallowed what was left of the ship, her crew and her oxygen in a brief, fiery explosion. On the computer simulation, the light that had indicated the enemy ship winked out, leaving nothing in its place. Sam knew, even if the sensors were clear of dust and gas, there would be little more than debris to show that the Master of the Octagon II had occupied space and time seconds earlier. His nemesis had been erased, as neatly as if he had never been. Only the scars on Sam’s own body now existed to show that Drew Vort had ever lived in this universe.

  His crew was cheering, but Sam didn’t join in. As the adrenalin rush of battle drained from his body, his mind returned to its one true focus. Vort was part of his past. If Sam was to have a future, he had to get through that jump and make it to LinHo in time to save the only thing that mattered.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  It was dark again. In her jailors’ parody of night and day, the lights had been turned off for the hours meant for sleeping and resetting of the body’s circadian rhythms. But Rayna was not asleep. Her mind wouldn’t allow it, regardless of whether her body might want to respond to the dark as it should.

  She’d spent the long “day” exercising in the tiny cell—pushups, situps, squats, every ahx zun martial arts routine she could remember from her training days. She’d pushed herself to the point of exhaustion, rested, then started up again. And still, when the lights went out, she’d stared into the blackness and waited for a sleep that would not come while the walls closed in on her.

  No matter which direction her thoughts took, frustration followed. From Lainie, out there on her own, possibly in trouble. To the Thrane, setting his charges all over the factory, maybe even this minute sending the signals to rip the place apart. To herself, stuck in here, unable to do anything to stop him. And, finally, always, to Sam. Sam, who she would never see again.

  Rayna turned over and punched the flat, lifeless pillow. She would give a significant body part to be able to punch a living being right now. A shot at the main target of her anger—the Thrane—would be too much to ask for. But a guard or two? Yeah, that would be very satisfying.

  A whisper of sound wafted through the slot at the base of her cell door—someone was accessing the security system to enter the cell block. Adrenalin surged through Rayna’s veins, kicking up her pulse, tightening her chest. She fought it with deep breaths. If they were coming to kill her she would only have one chance, a very slim one. But she’d be damned if she’d go out without a fight.

  As she slipped behind the door, the corners of her mouth curled up. Remember, you asked for a fight, you dumb ass.

  Light flooded the cell, and Rayna could hear voices now as the guards approached—low murmurs, as if they were trying not to disturb the sleeping cell block. Why bother? This place was far removed from the dormitories; guards never worried about who heard them. Then another thing struck her—the voices were feminine.

  She waited.

  “Ray! It’s me, Lainie! We’re here to get you out.”

  “Oh, for chrissake!” Rayna exhaled the breath she’d been holding and stood back from
the opening door. “I came this close to breaking your neck.”

  “Perai! Touchy much? We’re here to rescue you!”

  Rayna noted the storm clouds of righteous anger gathering around the teenager and shook her head. “Never mind. I am very glad to see you.” She extended her welcome to the older woman with Lainie. “You, too, Brilly.”

  Brilly responded with a terse nod. “If the meet-and-greet is over, can we get our asses out of here? I was only able to program the camera malfunction to last for 90 seconds.” She led the way out of the cell and down the corridor. “It’s on continuous loop, but the security comps have programs that scan for things like that. A loop goes on too long and an alarm is triggered.”

  Rayna nodded. Kinz was not the solid, impenetrable bastion of security it was reputed to be on the outside, but it was secure enough where it counted, and Brilly’s help had been essential. She offered up a prayer, too, for the departed Neko.

  The trio exited the Solitary block and sealed the doors behind them. Brilly spent several precious seconds with the security comp to delete all evidence of this latest visit and to make sure there was no record of Rayna’s having been there at all. When she was done they turned and moved back toward the main hub of the factory building, away from the cameras watching Solitary.

  In a darkened corridor away from any prying eyes, Rayna called a halt. Not much distinguished this section of hallway; it was flanked with large storage lockers. Up ahead, a little-used passageway led into a mechanical room, at the rear of which was a tiny ventilation grate. The vent led directly to the outside, but though it was hidden and covered with a heavy perforated-metal plate, some clever children had still found it during their brief time in the factory. They’d never had a chance to use it before their “experiment” ended and they were sold. Or so Rayna had been told.

  Lainie’s gaze flicked from the lightless passage to the mech room back to Rayna’s face, her jaw tightening as she recognized the place. “No. No, Ray. I’m not leaving you here.”

  “I’m not giving you a choice. You weren’t meant to be here in the first place.”

  The girl clenched her fists and took a step forward. “Really? Well, it’s a fucking good thing I was here, wasn’t it, or you’d still be stuck in that mulaak cell. You need me.”

  Rayna flushed, and she just caught herself from meeting the teenager’s anger with her own exasperation. As an agent of Rescue she had a job to do, and not much time in which to do it. Lives were at stake. The girl would only be in the way. But that’s not why Rayna was sending her away.

  She made herself back off. “You’re right, I do need you, Lainie. I don’t have too many friends, and I can’t afford to lose one.”

  “Friends don’t leave friends behind. I can help. You know I can.”

  “It’s too dangerous!” Rayna couldn’t keep the note of desperation from her voice. “This guy, this Thrane, he may already have us sitting on a ton of explosives. They could blow any second.”

  “No, Ray, that’s just it!” Lainie rattled off her argument with breathless excitement. “That Thrane has been laid up in the infirmary since you killed his shalssiti mate. He hasn’t had a chance to place any bombs, and he’s too weak to fight us. He’s a drifting freighter in an asteroid field! We go, we get him, then we leave. Together.”

  Rayna shot a glance at Brilly. “This true?”

  “He took a beating on the factory floor.” She shrugged. “But Thranes are mightily attached to their mates. Maybe he just doesn’t want to get up.”

  “Yeah, and maybe he just likes working from the infirmary.”

  Brilly raised an eyebrow and nodded, but Lainie’s face showed only confusion. “What does that mean?”

  “It means he may not be as injured as he seems. It means I may have to use every bit of the training and experience I have to kill a wounded fang-eel.” Rayna put all of her authority as an agent of the Interstellar Council of Abolition and Rescue into her voice. “It means I have to do this alone.”

  Lainie’s expression grew dark. “And what if you can’t do it alone? What if he kills you instead because no one was there to help you?”

  “Then I’d like to know you were safe. I’d like to know you were out there with Sam and the Shadowhawk, even if I can’t be. You understand?”

  The girl seemed caught between defiance and despair. “No,” she said, but her body had given up the fight, standing with shoulders slumped and head lowered, as if she’d been sentenced to life in the prison around them instead of freedom in the wide galaxy outside.

  Rayna knew she had won; she didn’t hesitate. “Brilly, you know this way out, right?”

  The woman nodded. “We use it sometimes. She’ll fit through the opening just fine. I won’t be able to go with her, though.”

  Lainie lifted her chin. “I’ll manage.”

  “Don’t linger on the streets,” Rayna told her. “Go to the bar where you saw Sam make the handoff to the Pataran. His name is Daniel.”

  Brilly handed the girl a comm. “Call him as soon as you get there. If anyone else picks you up, smash this and it’ll send out an emergency signal.” Brilly turned to Rayna. “Should I meet you back at the infirmary?”

  “No. I do this on my own.”

  “Then you’ll need this. Knocks out the cams for ten seconds while you access the security comp.” The woman handed her a package. “Little something extra, too.”

  Lainie couldn’t seem to help a last appeal. “This is fucked up.”

  Rayna pulled her into a hug. “You have to go. I’m gonna kill that bastard, then I’ll be right behind you.” She’d never noticed how thin the girl was, how frail. Lainie resisted the contact, her body stiff in Rayna’s arms.

  Rayna pulled back and met Lainie’s vulnerable gaze with a lift of her chin. “Go. See you on the other side.”

  “Standard orbit established, Cap. Maintaining as ordered.”

  In Sam’s chest a curious mix of relief and fevered anticipation greeted those words. His heart boomed against a ribcage tight with impatience. He couldn’t wait to get down on that stinking piece of rock.

  He kept ruthless control over his voice. “Thank you, helm.”

  “LinHo Central is hailing, Cap.” Patel raised an eyebrow at him. “They’re not happy.”

  “Put ’em through.” He waited while the connection was made and the pinched features of the dark-skinned human in charge appeared on his screen. “I’m Solomon Armstrong Murphy, Captain of the Shadowhawk. I am requesting full port privileges for my ship and crew for five planetary days. What’s the delay?”

  The man in charge scowled. “No delay, Captain. Just no. No privileges for your ship or your crew.” An oily smile slid across his face. “Seems you’ve made a few enemies.”

  “That right? And what if I told you I’d taken care of those enemies—permanently?”

  LinHo Central’s unconcern was profound. “My boss was alive and well at dinnertime.”

  “I’m not talking about your boss. I’m talking about his boss.”

  The man’s head tilted under the weight of a disbelieving grin. “You trying to tell me you’ve eliminated Drew Vort?”

  “Blew him into space dust at the C5 jump node. Guess that makes me the new boss, huh? I’d show a little respect if I were you.”

  “Where’s the proof?” His voice was steady enough, but the man’s grin had faded now. His face said he had started to think this crazy story might just be true.

  Sam turned to his XO. “Send him the ship’s log.” Then he watched as the Spacedock official’s face blanched and his knees gave out beneath him. “And, no, the log wasn’t faked. Vort is dead. At the time, I was still technically his partner. What was his is now mine. Set up a meeting with Vort’s Number One on LinHo in two days.”

  The man found his feet and his voice. “Yes, sir. But what are you going to be doing in the meantime?”

  “That’s my business. Now, are we good?”

  “Absolutely. Full p
ort privileges for five days. Done. Enjoy your time on LinHo, Captain Murphy, sir!”

  Sam gestured to cut off the connection. “Little veer. But at least the message will be all over that rock by the end of first watch today.”

  “You better hope it doesn’t touch off a turf war before you have a chance to establish your own leadership.” Gabriel had appeared at his elbow in that silent way of his.

  “You think I really want the smuggling rights to a cesspool built on slave labor?” Sam’s voice was little more than a growl.

  Gabriel shrugged. “Your crew might think differently. There’s profit in it. What’s your plan?”

  “I’m going to get Ray and Lainie and the LO’s out of that factory. Then for all I care that mulaak Thrane sonofabitch can blow LinHo to Portal’s Hell.”

  Brilly had left her the gift of another shiv and a security access card that would allow her to enter the infirmary. But Rayna refused to believe it would be that easy to get to her target. He was Thrane, after all, with the ability to manipulate her view of reality. She’d experienced Zetana’s grip on her mind, felt that helplessness in the face of a world that suddenly made no sense. Her enemy could make her think she was anywhere, doing anything. He could strip the weapon from her hand with a thought and leave her open to the attack that would kill her.

  Thranes varied in their natural talent, in their level of skill, in their training. Some were limited to touch telepathy; some could project their control over great distances. Zetana had been able to project a short distance, at least. Rayna expected no less from her mate.

  But Rayna had some defenses of her own. She had her own natural resistance to mind control—the resistance that had made it possible for her to be a Rescue agent in the first place. Her Rescue training had reinforced that resistance. Her shields were respectable—for a human. Given adequate warning, she could stave off an incursion. For how long, she didn’t know.

  All of this weighing of accounts left Rayna’s mouth dry as an airlock and the shiv shaking in her hand. Fuck it. The mulaak bastard had to die before he had a chance to do any damage. With that thought she silenced all her doubts. She flexed her fingers around the hilt of the shiv and slipped through the shadows of the empty corridors toward the infirmary entrance.