Dragon's Nemesis (The Dragon Corps Book 7)

by Natalie Grey

  Payback was a bitch.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  THE CONWAY SLID through the blackness near Station X. The gas giant below lent an eerie light to the proceedings, highlighting the underside of the shuttle as it peeled off with Wraith’s strike team aboard.

  The station was a hub of activity, which provided an easy barometer of whether or not the Conway and its shuttle had been spotted. The ship had been run through every blocking and cloaking protocol that could be devised by Tersi, John Hugo, Lesedi, and Tera, and Nyx took comfort in the fact that if they couldn’t cloak the ship, no one could; they’d gotten the best of the best.

  There might be a factory floor inside for fine-tuning, but the outside of the station was also done up as a shipyard, with the hulls of two destroyers taking shape while a swarm of robots flew around them. Flashes of light from the welding caught on the silver of the ships and the robots.

  The station, itself, was of a good size—though the ships made it seem smaller. The Conway’s shuttle was approaching one of the upper levels, where the detention center was supposed to be, while the Conway itself would dock in the ship bay at the center of the station.

  “Dock” was a loose term, of course. The crew was intending to leap out of the ship as it made a single pass through the bay.

  They slowed as they approached the station, and were amused to see several ships clear out of their way as though they’d been cleared for approach. Nyx gave one last nod to Maple and Halo, and headed down the corridors at a sprint. As she went, she heard Maple give the command to release test bots—little devices emitting the same signals as the Conway, which would see if they could get through the force fields to the docking bay before the Conway tried.

  No point in ending up crispy, as Tersi had so eloquently put it. He’d been in a good mood, which Nyx had noted without comment. After worrying about him for so long, it was good to see him happy—and while she was deeply curious about what, exactly, had happened, she remembered how jealously she guarded the details of her courtship with Mala, and decided not to ask. If Tersi wanted to tell her, he would. Until then, it was none of her business.

  In the shuttle bay, the team made a hole to let her get to the front of the group. They knew how much it meant to her to be the first off the ship and fighting in Ghost’s hideout. She’d had to tell them, in fact, to take their shot at Ghost if they got one. Wraith pointed out that Nyx would be grumpy for the rest of her life if she wasn’t the one who took Ghost down … but, as Nyx pointed out, better she be grumpy than have Ghost have a chance at getting away.

  “Team A, you are clear,” Maple reported. The alarms sounded, the shuttle bay vented slowly, and then the doors glided open as the Conway blazed through the force field.

  The team leaped, guns already up as they rolled onto the bay floor and stood.

  The workers in the bay scattered for the exits with screams. Nyx’s eyes tracked the shapes of their bodies under the standard-issue jumpsuits. They didn’t appear to be armed, and as long as they kept running instead of fighting, she’d be happy to let them go.

  “Move!” Nyx called. She had no idea how long there would be before the station’s bay was vented. It was the most economical way to deal with intruders, and while her team’s boots could lock onto any vaguely metallic surface, anything not held down would become a high-speed hazard. She wasn’t keen to try her luck with that.

  The doors at the edges of the room were sliding down, but Foxtail had made a beeline for them as soon as she was out, pushing all of her implants to their maximum. She’d brought all of her tools with her, as well as several little drives Tera had given Nyx the last time they spoke, and Nyx could see Foxtail now hunched over a panel on the wall, running subroutines until the doors stalled.

  “Landing bay not secure,” announced a computerized voice, with a faint attempt at concern. “Venting cancelled. Please close blast doors and try again.”

  There was a storm of screams and shouting from one of the control booths nearby and Nyx grinned as she slid under the half-closed door.

  “Good job, Foxtail.”

  Foxtail gave a thumbs-up with her free hand, not looking away from her panel. Doors began to slide open all through the station. I say we make it really hard for them to boot us out of there, Centurion had said during the planning phase, and Foxtail was executing on that admirably.

  They’d only gotten into the first corridor, however, before the guards found them.

  On her first station, Ghost had been accompanied by mercenaries. They were highly trained and dangerous, but they were mercenaries nonetheless. These were different; these, Nyx suspected, were part of an elite group raised and trained on Eternas, loyal to the Samuels family for generations—and aware of how high the stakes were. They fought as a unit and they faced the Dragons down without fear.

  They also had no problem using explosive rounds in the halls of their own space station. It was only later that Nyx realized this should have been her first clue—in this moment, she was more concerned with the explosive rounds themselves. She skidded into a narrow doorway and took up position to fire back. With Choop and Centurion in position as well, the guards ducked behind cover and the explosive rounds stopped for long enough for most of her team to take their own cover….

  While the last four charged directly into the fray.

  There was a yell of alarm and Nyx gave a smug smile. No matter how many times a Dragon team did this, it never got old for her. There was a rhythm to firefights: each team taking cover and popping up to fire, picking one another off according to skill.

  …Or a team could just charge across open ground, wind up in the middle of a crowd of enemies, and wreak some havoc. No one ever saw it coming, and when Loki was involved, well, things got even more interesting—especially as even some members of her team still hadn’t seen what he was capable of. He burst into action now with a deep yell of satisfaction, and Nyx counted at least three guards who hit the wall to slide down in little heaps.

  “Holy shit,” Centurion said, on his private comm channel to Nyx.

  “Impressive, no?” She held herself still, chose her moment, and picked off a guard at the edge of the fray. They’d taken too long trying to decide how to get inside Loki’s guard, and in doing so, they’d forgotten to watch the Dragons with their guns out.

  Rookie mistake.

  A few more seconds and it was done, Loki’s panting coming over the comms while the rest of the group stood and surged forward along their path. There was no time for standing around right now, but as they moved, the team allowed themselves to decompress with a few jokes. Tallies of who’d taken out how many were called back and forth, with a few accusations of inflated counts.

  “Let’s just say Loki wins,” Doc suggested. “That was something to watch, kid.”

  “I told you all,” Choop said, sounding aggrieved. “I told you how he could fight. None of you believed me.”

  “We were there, remember? We saw him wipe the floor with you. We just didn’t think you put up much of a fight. Ten guards, though—”

  The doors along the corridors, both ahead of and behind them, opened and yet more guards streamed out.

  The Dragons didn’t even hesitate. Doc aimed and took out three guards in rapid succession before launching herself into the fray. She and Choop, for all their banter, had developed quite the rapport when it came to working a melee situation as a team. As Nyx watched, Choop gave a hopping kick that sent one guard stumbling back into another. Both of them went over in a heap and Doc did the clean-up before using another guard’s momentum to send him hurtling in Choop’s direction.

  Nyx, meanwhile, noted another group approaching the periphery and sank into a crouch in the middle of the swirl. She took out two of the soldiers at the shins—people always tended to use good armor on the chest and head, and skimp on the rest—and then called for Foxtail to accompany her as she went charging into the group.

  The guard at the tip of their for
mation, to his credit, did not flinch. He braced himself and punched with impressive form. Bracing, however, had been the wrong choice. With no mobility to help him absorb the power of Nyx’s push-kick, he took far too much force directly to the chest.

  And even bullet-proof armor didn’t help you when it came to bone-cracking force. His fist shot harmlessly past Nyx’s side and he died with a froth of blood at his lips. He didn’t have time to see Nyx pull out her sidearm and take down two of the guards at the back of the formation before whirling into motion to take out the rest before they could form up.

  She didn’t intend to let any of them play the same game as Doc and Choop.

  There was a crackle in her earpiece, and something that sounded a bit like Wraith’s voice, but nothing came through and she had no spare time to try to work on tech problems. With brutal efficiency, she and Foxtail took out the last of their group and ran to catch up with the rest of the team, who had now moved on.

  The family’s suite was ahead, containing Ghost’s office and—theoretically—any family who were in residence. This made the fact that there were no guards there concerning. There was no way the two groups they’d encountered were everyone.

  “Maple, tell me no family ships have left the station.”

  “No new ships have left,” Maple reported at once. “What with Rhea, we’ve kept a close eye out.”

  “Right.” Then something in her tone caught Nyx’s attention. “Wait, what do you mean, ‘what with Rhea’?”

  “Did you not hear Wraith?” Maple sounded concerned. “I thought—well, they’ve gotten to the detention center and they’re getting Dess’s brother out. Looks like he’ll make it. But….”

  She didn’t seem to want to finish the sentence, but Nyx didn’t need her to.

  “But Rhea Hugo isn’t here,” she said. It made sense, abruptly, why they’d been keeping an eye out for ships leaving. She strode past the rest of her group and into the family suite, making directly for the offices on the right side of the apartments. She didn’t have her gun up. There was no need for it, after all. She was only confirming with her own eyes what she knew to be true: that Ghost wasn’t here, either.

  And then her suit crackled, and Wraith’s voice sounded, tight with worry.

  “Floor 18,” she said simply. “We need all the backup we can get.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  THE ARIANE’S shuttle had brought John Hugo over an hour before. He held himself still and straight, the way Dess used to hold herself before hostage negotiations. Whatever demands Aunt Gee was ready to pass along, he seemed equally ready to hear them. He gave Dess a small smile and a murmured thank you, and then he allowed Talon’s team to precede him out into hallways of Tian Station.

  Dess applauded their caution, but she was already turning away, thinking there was nothing to see, when the spray of gunfire erupted in the hallway.

  “Get back!” Jim, the only Dragon left on board with her, tackled her sideways onto the metal grating of the ship.

  The blast doors of the Ariane slammed down a second later and there was shouting from outside to open them and let John Hugo back in.

  “Wasn’t us!” Jim called back. “See if you can get them open from your side.”

  “It’s the station.” Dess pushed herself up and grabbed at his arm. “Get me to the cockpit, I need to talk to their security. Please,” she added, when he hesitated. “And tell your team to stand down while I talk.”

  “They’re not going to stand down while the Head of Intelligence is in the crossfire,” he said grimly, but he took off down the hall, yelling into his comms.

  “Tell them not to go chasing off after anyone!” Dess called after him. She was running as fast as she could, but that was not nearly as fast as him. When she arrived at the cockpit, she was completely winded and he already had station security on the line.

  “—tell them to stand down,” the chief of security was saying crisply.

  “Mr. Brown,” Dess said, still panting slightly. “This is Dess Tasper, currently aboard the Ariane.”

  “Ms. Tasper, are you in a command capacity over the Dragons on the station? I must advise that—”

  “Sir, I am aware of station protocol.” Dess slid into her seat. “I am also aware of the defense mechanisms you are required to activate. I am asking for two things: clemency for the team, as they were responding to an imminent threat on a civilian and did not attack first; and to let them be the ones who clear the station.”

  There was a pause. Jim was muttering into his personal comm behind her and Dess focused all of her attention on her mental image of Gianni Brown. Tall and dignified, he had tanned skin and salt-and-pepper hair, and he always wore the jumpsuit that would go under a set of armor—that he clearly kept himself fit enough to use.

  “Ms. Tasper,” he said finally, “I must have misheard you.”

  “You didn’t mishear me,” Dess said, keeping her voice level instead of annoyed. She had no idea what was going on in the corridor and she did not want Talon’s team at the mercy of Tian’s eminently capable resident army—or defense systems. “The Dragons have been fired upon while attempting to negotiate for the return of a hostage. The incident was instigated by Ghost.”

  “Rest assured that we will review your claims, Ms. Tasper, and should Ghost be determined to—”

  “Mr. Brown,” Dess said, beginning to lose her temper, “you presently have two teams of highly capable soldiers—and, I will be frank with you, more capable than your own security teams—battling in your corridors. With them is the Head of Alliance Intelligence. If you activate your automated defense systems, you will kill him and will force the Alliance’s hand against Tian Syndicate, which I think we can agree no one wants.”

  There was only stunned silence from the other end of the line, and Jim leaned close to murmur in Dess’s ear, “I hope you knew what you were doing, telling him Hugo is here.”

  I did, Dess mouthed at him. She looked back to the speakers. “What I am offering you, Mr. Brown, is the chance to resolve this quickly and with not only a minimum of fuss, but a minimum of danger to your own security forces. Surely this should be an agreeable proposition.”

  Another brief silence, and then Gianni Brown said wearily, “You’re proposing I let Dragons fight in my corridors.” Dess could hear the subtext clearly: I’m going to be fired for this—and that’s if I’m lucky.

  “I take it you’re not very familiar with how Dragons fight or how difficult it is to stop them once they’ve started. With all due respect, Mr. Brown, they’re going to be fighting in your corridors anyway. I’m simply allowing you the opportunity to get your fighters out of the way. Which is something I will certainly explain to your superiors in person at the end of this.”

  “I’m going to take you up on that, Ms. Tasper.” He sounded amused now. “Very well, I’m giving the order now. Would you like to convey it to your team?”

  “To the Dragons? Yes.” Dess smiled, then had a thought. “Actually, just put me on the loudspeakers.”

  “You’re on … now.”

  “Attention, crew of the Ariane and forces loyal to Ghost.” Dess kept her voice pleasant. “This is Dess Tasper, relaying orders given by Gianni Brown, head of Tian Station security. He will sign off on them shortly. The forces loyal to Ghost, as the aggressors in this conflict, have broken station protocol, and the crew of the Ariane has been granted permission to deal with them in any way they see fit, so long as they continue to attack. Mr. Brown, will you confirm?”

  “Confirmed,” the man said.

  “Thank you,” Dess told him when the channel reverted to a private one. “Let me know where I can present your case at the conclusion of all of this. I am quite certain that with the review of the security tapes, it will be very clear that you made the only good choice.”

  “I hope so,” he said drily. “I’ll relay coordinates when this is over, Ms. Tasper.”

  He signed off and Dess gave a sigh. She rubbed at her
forehead and tried to make sense of the data streaming across the screen in front of her. “What is all of this? Can you keep tabs on the team from here?”

  She didn’t want to admit it, but her eyes were already searching, trying to figure out which dot represented Tersi.

  Jim must have known that, because he took her by the shoulders and practically lifted her out of her seat. “Waiting during a battle is an acquired skill,” he said firmly, “and it is always better with a cup of tea in hand. Would you go get us some?”

  He was giving her something to do so that she wouldn’t go crazy, and Dess managed to feel grateful—even though she’d much rather be glued to the screens, watching Tersi’s progress. She nodded and headed down the corridors toward the kitchen, tapping her fingers nervously against her palm. She had to let the energy out somehow or she’d go stark raving mad.

  The ship creaked and clicked as she watched the water boil. It took all of her concentration to stand quietly, and she gave herself over to the task. If she was exerting her self-control to keep herself still, it just might be enough distraction for her not to think of—

  No, she wouldn’t think of him. This was his job, she reminded herself firmly. Tersi was trained, capable, and well-regarded. He’d not only gotten through Dragon selection, he was a longstanding crew member on a Dragon crew so legendary that even Dess had heard of it.

  He’d be all right.

  They’d all be all right. She got down tea bags and poured the hot water carefully into the mugs. The Ariane’s dishes were a mishmash of different sets, and the mugs were the most eclectic of everything. Of the two she’d pulled down, one showed the seal of the Alliance and had SENECA in big gold letters, while the other somewhat confusingly read Sven & Ole’s, Grand Marais, MN. She couldn’t think of any planet named MN.

  She gave a sigh as she turned around, one mug in each hand … and froze.

  “Hello, Dess,” her aunt said from a chair in the corner.