Uh, good question. She had claimed to know him when she had been convincing them she was sharing secrets, hadn’t she? No, wait. She’d said her brother knew him.
“I’ve never seen him in person before,” Tamryn said.
She didn’t even know who commanded the ship. The man’s fatigue jacket read Liakos. The name was not familiar, but Fleet had more than a hundred ships that maintained order in the system, and she hadn’t been out of the academy for long enough to run across that many of them.
“This message is for Captain Ram, if he still lives.” Liakos frowned deeply. “We’ve received the communication from the former mining ship Nebula 7, the claim that the station is now controlled by men who identify themselves as Glacians.” His frown deepened, whether because the thought of Glacians upset him or because he believed the claim was spurious, Tamryn couldn’t tell. “We were attacked by pirates on the other side of Tempestas. They were well armed, and we believe they may have been coming to the station to attack it. We intercepted them and blew up their ship, but clearly we’ve taken damage. We can’t make it to the Icesphere station for help. Life support and engines are on auxiliary power, and we’re leaking fuel. We need to dock, and we need spare parts so we can go about our repairs.” He hesitated, looking down at the deck for a moment, like a proud man hating to admit to failure or ask for help. “If Captain Ram is... detained and these... supposed Glacians are listening...”
“Supposed,” Brax growled. “I can’t wait to shoot this man.”
Tamryn drew back slightly, surprised by the venom in his voice. She bumped into Makkon, who had come to stand close to her again without her noticing it. She should have minded the intrusion into her personal space, but she much preferred his presence to Brax’s.
“Then our problem remains the same,” Liakos continued after a pause. “We are prepared to pay in gold aurums for the parts we need and for permission to dock so we can power down our systems for repairs.”
That made Tamryn raise her eyebrows. Fleet wasn’t known for bargaining with criminals, and if Brax had announced that he and his men had taken over the station, then this Liakos must see them as such. Granted, she was new when it came to real-world operations, but it was hard to imagine a Fleet captain offering a stack of physical gold to anyone. Did Fleet ships even carry gold? Most banking was done digitally with the only physical aspect being ID chips embedded in people’s fingers.
“You think it’s a trap?” Makkon asked.
She almost answered, but realized the question was for Brax.
“That’s what I’m wondering.” Brax looked at Tamryn.
That was exactly what she was wondering, if this was a trap. Something to lure the Glacians into complacency? So that they would open the airlock door with spare parts ready to sell, only to have a boarding party rush onto the station, leading the way with laser fire? That thought almost made her smile, especially if the Felling Axe had enough people that it could work. But given that Brax’s men had taken her station without receiving, as far as she knew, a single casualty of their own, she wasn’t certain if the Axe had enough people to thwart the Glacians. Even if they did have the forces necessary, would they commit them fully? Would they know how dangerous these men were? What they were? Since Tamryn had thus far been unsuccessful in contacting the outside system and sharing her intel, Fleet could be in the dark. She chastised herself for that, for all of the mistakes she had made so far.
“She’s a real thinker, isn’t she?” Brax asked.
“Always plotting something,” Makkon agreed, though his words sounded more proud than condemning. He touched her back again.
Tamryn smiled bleakly. He did think of her as his.
“It doesn’t seem like Fleet standard procedure,” Tamryn said. It didn’t seem like much of a betrayal to admit that much. They had already figured that out.
“They are injured.” Brax pointed out one of the portholes, where the ship almost looked like a derelict set adrift. “Be tough to fake that hull damage, and that back thruster is completely crushed.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t have told them who we are,” Makkon said. “They’ll be wary when they come in.”
“I don’t care. I’m ready for a fight. We have no need for trickery.”
Tamryn almost pointed out that they had needed a solar flare to sneak up on the station.
“Comm them,” Brax said, pointing at her. “I don’t believe anything that captain says, but I want him to know that some of his people are still alive in here. Just in case they’re thinking of sending in charges to blow up the station.”
Tamryn thought about disobeying, but she didn’t want to be blown up, either. The idea was startling and actually did seem more in line with what Fleet would do with a station full of terrorists.
She commed the other ship, wondering if Brax and Makkon would back off and let her talk, but they remained close, as they had for the message back to the core. This time, Brax didn’t grab the back of her neck. He did give Makkon a significant look, like maybe he expected him to grab her neck if she got out of line.
“Captain Liakos here,” the gray-haired man said as he appeared in the holo display. Scorched walls were in view behind him, the back half of his bridge appearing almost as damaged as the outside of the ship. Oddly, there weren’t any people visible at the stations. She supposed that was understandable if the stations were inoperable.
“This is Lieutenant Tamryn Pavlenko,” she said, “communications officer for Frost Station Alpha. We’ve received your message.” She looked pointedly at Makkon and Brax. She didn’t say she was a prisoner. They’d probably object, and it should be obvious from the way they had her fenced in.
“Pavlenko?” the captain mused. “You’re not related to the Pavlenkos, are you?”
Her stomach sank. Some random Fleet officer that she’d never met was the last person she had expected to inform the terrorists of her identity. “No, sir. I doubt I would have been stuck out here if that were the case. It’s a common name.”
“Not that common, but I see your point.” Liakos arched his eyebrows. “You seem to have company.”
“Unwelcome company, yes, sir. I advise you not to dock. The station isn’t safe.”
“We don’t have a choice, Pavlenko. Can your company be bribed to help us for enough gold?”
“I don’t know, sir. I—”
“Enough from her.” Brax elbowed her to the side. He pointed a finger at the captain. “You’re not invited to the station. We don’t want your gold. I suggest you seek your repairs elsewhere. You proceed to dock, and we’ll be ready for you.”
Liakos clasped his hands behind his back and paced back and forth behind the command chair. “I’m afraid we have no choice. We must dock.”
As he walked, Tamryn noticed that his uniform jacket, though pressed and crisp, did not fit very well. It was large for him. Maybe he had lost weight. But even so—
With a start, she realized this was a trap, but not the trap Brax and Makkon expected. A Fleet captain wouldn’t have cared about her last name and her relatives; but someone who lived a life on the hunt for money would be aware of the finance lords and wealthy families of the system.
She opened her mouth, almost reflexively voicing her concerns, but then she snapped it shut again. Was it better to tell them or not? Makkon and Brax expected a battle, and they would get it whether those were Fleet soldiers or whether her suspicions were true and they weren’t.
Brax slashed a hand through the holo display, and the link blinked out.
“Can we keep them from docking?” Makkon asked. He was watching her, standing close again. She wondered if he had read any of her thoughts on her face, or guessed at them.
“The station doesn’t have the kind of shields a ship would have,” Tamryn said. “It should, given all the new interest in the place, but it’s an old research facility. I believe even the gun turrets were a semi recent addition.”
“That was a no?” Makkon as
ked.
“You can choose not to open the hatch, but the docks are magnetic and will let anything snug up to them.”
“Hatches can be blown open,” Brax said, then tapped his comm unit. “Everyone ready for a fight?” he asked as he walked out the door. “Makk, bring your girl with you when you come. In case we need a hostage.”
Makkon frowned. “I thought you wanted a battle, not to hide behind a woman’s skirts.”
Brax waved in dismissal and didn’t answer. He was talking on the comm to his other men as he disappeared down the corridor.
“I don’t wear skirts,” Tamryn said.
Makkon’s mouth twitched. “Never?”
“Rarely.”
“Well, I’ll stand in front of you, so they won’t see you.” Makkon started for the exit.
“Wait.” Tamryn lifted a hand. “If you’re taking me to the airlock, give me a gun.”
He turned slowly to face her. She expected a laugh or a snort or a quick refusal. Instead, he looked toward the comm, though the display had long since faded, then back to her, a thoughtful expression on his face.
“You don’t think that was a real Fleet captain, do you?” he asked.
Tamryn struggled with whether to answer. If he’d already figured it out, did her confirmation matter? Still, she couldn’t help but feel like a traitor any time she gave them any information.
“No,” she finally said. “His uniform was too big, and there should have been several other people on the bridge with him.”
“So maybe there was a fight out at Tempestas, as he said, but the pirates won.”
“It would have to have been a lot of pirates to take an executor-class ship,” Tamryn said, “but those are my thoughts, yes.”
“They’re our enemies either way.”
“If they’re pirates, they’re my enemies too. Give me a gun, so I can be useful.”
“It might serve you to let us fight each other and stay out of the way.”
“I had that thought, but you’re not letting me stay out of the way, are you? If you’re making me come along, I may as well shoot pirates while I’m there. I don’t want to be some helpless victim.” She also didn’t want to risk that fake Fleet captain looking her up and finding out that she was, indeed, one of the Pavlenkos. She wasn’t worth more than the secret of faster-than-light travel, but if she was loitering near the airlock, the pirates might find her a much easier prize to grab. They would think they could ransom her to her family for quite a bit, and they’d be right. “I’ve had enough of being the helpless victim,” she added.
“I’m sure you have.” Makkon sighed and squeezed her shoulder. “I can’t arm you. Not if you’re at my back.”
“What if I’m at Brax’s back?”
He snorted. “Especially not then.”
Chapter 13
As Makkon stood in the corridor near the airlock, with Tamryn behind him, he kept thinking that he wanted to grant her request and give her one of his pistols. He also wanted to enshroud her in combat armor so she wouldn’t be at risk if a firefight broke out. When a firefight broke out. Had there been more time, he might have taken her back to the lounge, Brax’s desire for a hostage be damned. But the Fleet ship had veered for the station as soon as the comm link had been cut. Already, it was docking, with thumps and clangs coming from the other side of the airlock hatch. Brax hadn’t opened it yet, and Makkon wasn’t sure if he would. His men, all of them save Zar, were lined up in the wide corridor on either side of the hatch, all with multiple weapons ready, all shaking out their arms and hopping up and down, readying their muscles for battle.
Makkon looked back at Tamryn. She was leaning against the inside of a wall strut she could use for cover and glaring down the corridor at Brax.
“We’ll try to take the battle into the ship,” Makkon told her. “We want to add it to our forces, even if it’s too damaged to be more than a sacrifice later. But if the battle spills out onto the station...” He knew the men around him could hear and would question his words, but he didn’t care. “Run. I’ll find you later.”
“I’m sure you will.” The way her mouth twisted reminded him that she’d rather he not find her later, or any other time, either.
He understood why, and her reaction was perfectly normal, but it felt like someone pouring salt in a fresh wound. This was not the time for revelations, but it suddenly occurred to him that he might be falling in love with this woman. It was ridiculous, since she would never reciprocate the feelings, but one couldn’t stop an avalanche once it began to tumble down the slope.
Another clang came from behind the hatch, followed by a spray of sparks and a boom. Smoke flooded the air. Figures in white combat armor surged in through the haze, laser rifles firing. Makkon shot back, aiming for the vulnerable spots in the armor. He stepped away from the wall to make sure Tamryn wouldn’t be visible to anyone rushing in. He hoped she would heed his advice and run.
Red, orange, and yellow laser beams streaked in every direction. Makkon pulled his axe off his back, knowing he could open the tin-can armor with a blow powerful enough, as he’d done in the other fight. The alloy might deflect lasers and bullets, but he could hit harder than that.
One of his men threw a grenade through the hatchway. It traveled through an airlock tube before clanging off the bulkhead inside the enemy ship. As soon as it hit, it boomed with enough authority to rattle Makkon’s teeth. The men in combat armor stumbled, and he and the others descended upon them, rushing in too close for their enemies to swing their weapons around to shoot. Even with the armor and its enhancing abilities, they couldn’t strike Makkon’s people. They seemed to lumber in comparison to the Glacians.
Makkon found himself fighting at Brax’s side, much as he had during the assault of the station. Despite their differences, they worked well together, like lumbermen felling trees as a deadly, efficient team.
Soon, they pushed their way through the hatchway, through the airlock tube, and into the ship. A grenade hurled at them spewed green, toxic gas. Makkon held his breath, knowing he could do so for several minutes, long enough to fight through the cloud. They slew men, some in armor but others simply wearing a hodgepodge of clothing and firing with pistols. Their eyes grew round when they saw the Glacians’ speed, how they dodged laser fire and hurled enemies around the ship. Some of them broke and ran, jumping past bodies that littered the corridors, bodies in black Fleet uniforms.
“Dornic, Skion,” Brax barked, even as he hurled an opponent against a wall so hard that the man’s head caved in. “Take the team and capture engineering. Makkon and Rebek with me. We’re taking the bridge.” His voice lowered to a mutter. “If we can find it.”
“Engineering will be on the lower level,” an unexpected voice spoke from behind them. “The main lift is in the center of the ship on these models. There’s a different lift that leads to the bridge. That way. I can show you.”
Tamryn had acquired not one but two firearms, a rifle that she gripped and a pistol she had jammed through her belt. In the chaos of the fight, Makkon hadn’t been worrying about her—he’d assumed she would stay in the corridor or run. This would have been her chance to shoot him in the back. He had good instincts for sensing people coming up behind him, but the smoke and noise had left him unaware of her approach. Had she known? Maybe this was a temporary truce until they defeated the pirates. Or maybe she was leading them into a trap. Hoping he wasn’t being foolish, he chose to believe it was the first thing.
“You heard her.” Makkon jerked his chin at Brax, who also seemed surprised to have someone come up behind them.
He glared at her weapons, then shot Makkon a warning look before trotting deeper into the ship’s interior, in the direction Tamryn had pointed. Makkon had no trouble interpreting his look; it was his ass if she betrayed them.
The team split in different directions, Dornic’s men taking the first lift they came to. Tamryn gave terse directions, and Brax obeyed them, leading their small group deep
er into the ship. Worried that Tamryn might make an appealing target for a pirate, Makkon took the rear, checking behind them often. An alarm had started wailing, and it would be easy to miss the sound of someone sneaking after them.
More laser fire came from ahead, and Brax grunted with what could have been surprise or pain. Makkon hurried to catch up. He rounded a bend in time to catch Brax shooting a fallen man in the head. A pistol dropped from the man’s fingers. He had either been coming out of a lift in the middle of the corridor or guarding it, because he lay half inside and half out, the doors stuck open.
“Behind us,” Rebek warned an instant before Makkon heard footfalls on the deck.
He spun, worried Tamryn would be shot in the back. She had dropped to one knee and was facing in that direction. When six pirates raced around an intersection, she was as quick to shoot as Makkon and Rebek were. Makkon fired over her head, taking one man in the face. She felled two pirates with two quick shots, and Rebek sent another one flying to the floor, screaming with pain. The trailing two enemies wore combat armor, and Tamryn’s bolts were deflected off the white chest plates.
Makkon touched her shoulder to warn her to stop shooting and jumped past her, his axe in hand. Like some berserker from Old Earth, he bowled into the two men, knocking aside their rifles before they could bring them to bear. He chopped his blade into one chest plate with all of his strength. The axe, made with his people’s strength in mind, was nearly indestructible, and it won the war against the armor. The second combatant had pulled out a pistol and backed up, trying to shoot him. Makkon knocked the weapon aside, then lunged in and slammed his axe into the flexible neckpiece, a weakness in the armor.
That man fell, his windpipe crushed, and Makkon whirled back, expecting another attack from the first. But Tamryn was already firing. Her blasts slid through the gash Makkon had left in the armor. The pirate stumbled back, smoke wafting from his chest, and tumbled to the deck.
Makkon turned back toward Tamryn, whose rifle was still raised. Wondering if he would have to dodge a shot from her, he advanced warily. She looked him in the eyes, and he saw the controlled fear there. If this wasn’t her first battle, it had to be close to it. Her steadiness in light of that was amazing. But would she see him as another enemy?
Frost Station Alpha 1-6: The Complete Series Page 15
