Star Fire
Page 8
As they went down into the bowels of the dark underground, her eyesight sharpened, giving Sasha a good view of Kiev’s muscular back and buttocks. She nearly swallowed her tongue. Where was her composure? Her sense of staying on mission? Her inner voice snorted—that had gone out of the window once she’d let him fuck her. Okay, the fuck had been mutual.
Tiny noises marked their passage downward. A small pebble kicked into the vastness below. The slide of her hand on the metal rail. The soft tap of their feet on the grate. Finally, they stepped down onto the concrete, cracked from centuries upon centuries of age. The air hummed with the almost inaudible sound of machinery.
Sasha fumbled one-handed for her day-planner. She kept a death hold on the pepper spray with the other. With a delicate balancing act, she checked the readings. “It says we’re in the heart of the disturbance.” How’s that? she wondered. Wouldn’t a magnetic signal that strong wipe out her day-planner and throw them around? She shook her head, frowning at the hallway before them. Kiev pointed to the tracks in the fine layer of dirt covering the floor.
So, they wouldn’t be exploring the side rooms. With a small pang of disappointment, she followed him down the hallway. She had no problem with locked doors, but she barely resisted the urge to peek past the half-open exit. The end, a sliding double panel was, wedged open far enough for a person Kiev’s size to squeeze through.
Dutifully, he peered into the unknown.
“Hallo, luv.” A blond man stepped into her line of sight and pointed the square barrel of a weapon at them—likely the sonic wave blaster that had killed the natives. Ahead of her, Kiev froze, then slowly turned around with an unreadable expression. Sasha turned to face the pirate, Hales. “Fancy meeting you here.”
Sasha frowned at the man, switching to her own language. “Yeah. Fancy that, Hales.”
He flashed a dimple her way and a smile he obviously felt would win her over. Blond hair, a rakish beard and good orthodontia still made him look like the slimy bastard he was.
“You should drop the fake English accent though. It makes you sound like a superhero’s knock-off butler.”
Hales lunged forward, his handsome face going to mean and squinty. “Shut up, bitch.”
Kiev brought his sword up, stopping when the gun turned on him.
“Uh-uh-uh,” Hales taunted. “One more step with that and I shoot the bitch where she stands.”
Understanding intent, if not the words, Kiev nodded.
Hales turned to Sasha. “Oh, baby. We are gonna have—”
She sprayed him with the pepper spray. Hales dropped the gun, screaming as he rubbed at his eyes. Sasha pushed him backwards so that he fell, rolling and screaming, hands trying to rub the pain away.
“He shouldn’t rub like that. It only makes it worse,” Kiev said as she slipped through the space.
“My eyes! Fucking bitch! My hands!” Hales screamed. His accent was all street-gutter now. “It burns! It burns!” If the blisters were any indication, he wouldn’t be relying on his handsome face anymore.
Sasha ran behind Kiev, following the hum of the machines through another hallway. Tipped-over cabinets and old trash littered the way. Sasha kicked a bottle that she was sure had recently contained soda. She pointed it out and Kiev nodded, continually scanning the floor, walls and ceiling. He pointed to another door. Past it, more stairs waited, and the low murmur of voices reached her ears.
Carefully, she followed Kiev down the stairs. Both of them crouched to stay out of sight. One hundred and fifty steps and two landings later, Kiev pulled her behind a large, rack of dead computer equipment.
Taking in the dark and shadowy surroundings, Sasha surmised that these computer racks went along the outer edges of the room. Probably to give the scientists of Atmos room for their doomsday machine. She wanted to split up from Kiev and go around the outer edge, but Kiev shook his head.
The expression on his face was the equivalent of someone else screaming in her ear. Instead of blithely going her own way, as she’d always done, she found herself nodding and following, pepper spray in one hand, ready to fire. The sonic wave blaster was a death she wouldn’t wish on even Hales. Images of the victim from the village last night crowded her mind. She’d use the filthy thing if she had to, but the idea made her skin crawl and that hesitation could cost her life. For now, she was better off using the spray.
Quietly, she dropped back, letting Kiev lead. He paused and tensed, pulling something long, like a stylus, from one of the pouches on his belt. Sasha waited. Her breath caught in her chest as he snatched one of the pirates on perimeter guard and dragged his victim at the same time as pressing the stylus against the man’s neck. Kiev eased the inert pirate to the floor and motioned for her to follow.
The next man was as easy as the first. The third man coughed before he went down. They froze, waiting for the guns to start firing in their direction. From their vantage, she could see Hobbs’ looming form approximately thirty metres away, talking intently to a blue-skinned, male holo-projection.
Sasha took a deep breath and glanced at Kiev. There was no easy way to do this. She hitched up the sonic wave blaster and stepped out before Kiev could stop her. “Hobbs! Time to give it up.”
Both her ex-second and the holo-image turned to face her. Sasha saw movement out to the side, barely felt Kiev behind her, before one of Hobbs’s minions jerked and fell into the flickering light of the doomsday device. A knife protruded from his throat.
Hobbs’ meaty hand hovered over the panel. “Captain Tran.” He didn’t sound surprised. “How nice of you to join us. I’m sure you know my guest.”
She walked forward, thinking furiously about the holo-image, keeping the gun trained on Hobbs. Blue skin. The alien’s large eyepatch covered nearly a quarter his long face, too long and too blue for any human races. She pegged him as a breshmarian. The remaining eye stared at her, unnerving.
“Captain Taddius,” Sasha addressed the holo-image. “I would think this little pocket of space was too far removed from your usual den of piracy to be of interest.”
Captain Taddius nodded. “A new uniform and a new crew.” He suddenly did not appear so happy. “I would have preferred for my associates to kill you outright. You are entirely too resourceful. Finish the demonstration, Mr. Hobbs. My customers are losing confidence in your abilities.”
“His abilities or yours, Taddius?” Sasha asked, hiding a smirk. Her ex-first mate might run the ship, but he did not command the title of Captain. Hobbs moved his hand closer to the controls and she focused on him. “Don’t touch anything.”
“You don’t like guns, Captain. You have to be prepared to follow through for the threat to mean something.” Her ex-second in command slapped a button, making the display shift through a series of colours.
Sasha pulled the trigger, but in the end, Hobbs was right. She winged him solidly in the shoulder, likely damaging bone and joints. Hobbs cried out, but punched in a series of numbers.
At the same time, she heard the metal slide of Kiev’s sword. Sasha dived to stop Hobbs. He couldn’t be allowed to finish his demonstration, or sell the fucking thing on the black market.
Kiev didn’t understand any of the conversation, but the intent to show off the device was obvious. The blue-skinned one was a hologram. While the technology had the potential to send his inner scientist into throes of excitement, his priority was Sasha’s safety. When she’d walked out into the open his heart had nearly stopped. Then, instinctively, he’d thrown two bladed knives into the throat of the leader’s standby guard.
Hearing movement, he drew his sword and ghosted into the shadows. Gods, how he wanted to stay by her side and make sure no one came near. That type of thinking was foolish when she could handle the leader. His hired guns, though, were a more serious threat. How many were left? One pepper-sprayed in the entry, three down around the room’s perimeter. Ducking low, Kiev decided there were no more than two left, not counting the man at the device’s controls.
In the dim light, the long, lean furred creature bared a mouthful of fangs from a pointed muzzle. He instantly realised that the slitted pupils gave the alien better night vision.
Kiev ducked away from a handful of sharp claws and swung the sword down, smacking the delicate wrist with the flat of his blade. The creature made a low growl, with the pain, its ears swivelling back, and returned to a two-handed hold on the pipe.
Stepping inside the creature’s reach, Kiev aimed for appendages, hoping to slow it down. The furry alien blocked and parried with the pipe. A reverse swing came up inside Kiev’s guard, slamming against his temple and cheek.
Stars burst behind his eyes. Pain made furrows across the opposite cheek. Kiev rolled and regained his balance. Blood spattered on the floor, darker shadows against the dull concrete. His cheek burned as he and the creature watched each other. The sound of Sasha’s scuffling came to him.
The floor thrummed under his feet, feeling as though the foundations rocked. Terror slid through him and his sword slipped from his fingers. The furry alien’s eyes rounded and it paused, seeking those at the command console. Kiev dropped his sword and dived, trusting his suit to protect him. The creature yowled, twisting underneath him, proving it was as desperate as Kiev to get to the other players in this game. Kiev pulled back his fist and punched. He grabbed his opponent’s tunic and punched again.
His tough uniform saved his shoulder from a vicious bite. Kiev risked more head injury and slammed his forehead against the alien’s nose, satisfied at its yowl.
Fire slid through his gut. Kiev hissed at the pain, hunching his shoulders. The alien slipped away enough for him to glimpse the long knife covered in Kiev’s blood. Damn, but he hated being gutted. It ranked fourth on his list of bad deaths.
He fumbled at his belt, searching his emergency pouch for the special adrenaline-stimulant cocktail he’d invented. The single dose was designed for a desperate, hopeless situation like this. Out the corner of his eye, the alien scrambled to its feet, weaving while Kiev sucked in the gas from his ‘last-chance’ inhaler.
The drugs hit his system in a rush, speeding up his heart rate, clearing his thoughts. He was going to die, but he’d take the bastard with him. Sasha would have her chance to save Aros.
Kiev roared, grabbing his sword. Adrenaline and fury aided his swing, perfected by twelve hundred years of warriors’ training and knowledge and thirty years of practice in this body. The sharp edge sliced into shoulder meat. Kiev spun, angling down to cut across the alien’s thigh. It went down to one knee as he pressed the advantage. He barely noticed the knife plunging into him again. It was an insect’s bite beside the swing that took the furred alien’s head from its shoulders.
Kiev paused to breathe. He turned, tugging the knife from his side, and ran to Sasha. The hologram was gone. He didn’t understand the language the alien strangers screamed, but he knew she’d won as her kick crushed the bigger man’s knee. She yelled her order again, tears streaming down her cheeks, as the man held out both hands in surrender.
“Kiev, no!” Her sudden glance his way made him turn.
Blisters on the face of the pepper-sprayed man twisted his expression into a grotesque mask.
The drugs in Kiev’s system still made him light on his feet, even as he could feel the blood loss. “For Aros!” The sword raised, he ran, ducking the man’s ill-aimed laser weapon. The next shot was absorbed by the suit as Kiev reached his enemy. He swung, noting the wide-eyed horror as the man realised he was about to die by a primitive sword. The blade struck, slicing a deep track—front shoulder to hip. For a half-second more, the man wavered, then fell in the widening pool of blood.
Behind him, he could hear Sasha. Her cries faded as the world distorted and the drugs began to wear off. He slid down to one knee, then that one crumpled. Soft hands caught him and lowered him down. Sasha’s red halo of hair and her pale, tear-tracked face filled his vision.
“No, no, no. Oh, God. What have you done?” She began to tear at the suit fastenings, then at her pack. “Oh, fuck.”
Kiev held a hand over hers and tried to smile. “Did you stop the machine?”
Sasha started tumbling items from the pack. “Yes. It was… It’s okay. I’ll explain later.” Her gaze hardened as he started to struggle for breath.
Kiev-Dirrel had died so many times, he knew the signs. It wasn’t as bad as falling down a cliff or being chewed and digested by the draco-lizard. But damn, he hated to die by gutting.
She leant down, fresh tears brightening her ocean eyes to stars. “Don’t you die on me. Fuck you. Don’t you dare die on me.”
“Searched for my heart for an aeon of night. A flame at twilight, my Star Fire.” He breathed the words. “Twined in life, part…” Pain consumed his vision.
“Damn you, Dirrellen. Bad poetry is not going to get you out of marrying me.” Whatever she was doing burned at his wounds.
“Dirrellen loved NaTashamarilla. He—I searched. No other woman would do.” He blinked, taking slow breaths. He tried to touch her face and brushed against her shoulder instead. Kiev didn’t have the strength to try again. “Life would have been an adventure with you, Sasha-Tasha.” The familiar darkness swept over him, parting him from her again.
Chapter Six
Julian Horoscope, day forty-four—
Sometimes opportunity is right under your nose.
Dying for someone is easy. Living is so much harder.
The door whooshed open and she pointed the laser gun she’d confiscated at the buck-toothed pirate, she now knew as Beaches. Immediately, he held up his free hand and tried to give her an amicable smile. She narrowed her eyes. As if.
Sasha eyed Hobbs’ partner warily. He was still dressed in his disreputable oversized jacket, ratty shirt—open to show sparse chest hair—heavy-duty pants, and combat boots. He obviously preferred his role of bum pirate sleaze to Allied uniform.
She would have wanted to be the one at the controls of Fortune, but for the tectonic deharmoniser core at her feet and Kiev’s still form on the med-lab bed.
“Captain Tran, the authorities have arrived. The pirate Taddius is in custody.” Acting as if women drew guns at him every day, he came in closer and set the tray on the bedside table. In that awful outfit, women probably did shoot first and forget about the questions later. “I brought you lunch. My superiors want to know if”—his eyes sought out the bag holding the core and memory components, then moved to Kiev—“the device survived the explosion. They also would like to know the status of your companion.” Hobbs and Beaches had orchestrated a massive demolition of the machine while she’d done everything in her power to keep Kiev alive.
“By authorities, you mean Hobbs.” She made the query a statement. The food on the tray smelt good, but her stomach rebelled. There was no way any government would be getting their hands on the deharmoniser.
“Lieutenant Hobbs is one of my superiors, yes. He asked me to look in on you while he wraps things up. And his shoulder and knee are practically healed, thanks to the state of the art med-lab you have here on Fortune,” Beaches said, the good-natured smile fading at the edges. Real emotion peeked out as he straightened, making himself seem a little more military.
“We are sorry about how the whole operation went down. Once Taddius and other undesirables found out about the machine, it was only a matter of time before someone made a bid for it. None of the Allied governments wanted that. The idea was just to get you and the other civilians out of the way. No one wanted you or any of the locals hurt.”
“Tell that to the massacred locals in that village.” Frankly, she didn’t care that Hobbs didn’t have the balls to face her. She’d had precious little to say to him on Atmos, even after he’d produced his badge and called for Beaches to bring the ship and medical reinforcement. Having Fortune back was a hollow vi
ctory. All that mattered was Kiev’s survival.
Beaches had the grace to glance away, shamefaced. “Hales was the one who killed the natives. He’d been undercover too long, become one of the bad guys for real. When Hobbs told him to clear them out—” The dreadlocks swayed as he shook his head. Disgust turned his mouth down. “No one expected that. The cat-guy was one of Taddius’.”
Sasha didn’t answer. She wanted to scream. All of this was over goddamned spy games. Beaches must have thought she was really about to shoot him because he offered another sheepish, buck-toothed smile. “At least you have Fortune back, Captain Tran. And the higher-ups will send in a commendation. You’ll probably get promoted to one of the bigger trade lines.” Brightening to his own line of thinking, Beaches leaned in close, but was still wary of the gun. “You might even be able to strike out on your own with the reward the Allied Council would give you for that machine.”
Sasha wasn’t impressed. She let the emotion fill her expression until Beaches moved a few steps away. Finally, she set the gun down. She wasn’t going to shoot him and they both knew it. They both knew she wouldn’t be handing anything over, either.
He cleared his throat and pointed at Kiev. “I’d like to check his stats now.” With the same forced cheerfulness he’d had when he’d helped her carry Kiev to the ship, he peeled up Kiev’s eyelids, then checked the blood pressure readings before meeting her eyes. She had to give him credit—the man sure could fake happy. “Whatever that drug cocktail was in his system, it’s finally run its course. The coma side-effect will wear off soon.”
Sasha didn’t answer. Her heart leapt in her chest as Kiev’s fingers twitched. She got up and took his hand. Kiev’s fingers twitched again, and his breath hitched. Leaning in, she watched his eyelids move.
Beaches grinned, his two front teeth shining. “That suit is something else. I’d love to get it to some of my lab geeks and find out how it stabilised him. Whatever the tech in his suit did to keep him alive has gone dormant. But just in case, I still don’t want to take it off him. The nano-bots we set to work on his internal injuries are still active.”