It took a mighty effort on Lysandra’s part not to look too relieved. She pulled out her tablet and opened up information on one of her Taborian accounts then handed it to Victor. “The contents of this account ought to be more than enough.”
Victor raised an eyebrow when he looked at the tablet. “I suppose this will do.” He held out the tablet to Lysandra.
She reached up and took hold of the tablet, but the fingers of his artificial hand didn’t let go. She almost objected but stopped when she saw the mercenary’s angry black eyes locked on her sleeve or, more precisely, what was up it.
His left hand moved lightning fast, grabbing the lip of her sleeve and pulling it back, exposing her wrist sheath and the variblade it contained.
There he froze, staring at the variblade with an unmistakable light of recognition in his eye.
***
Things Victor hadn’t felt in years flooded him at the sight of his family's ancient variblade. It looked exactly the same as the last time he saw it, clutched in the hands of the man who had burned his world.
“Where did you get that?” he growled.
Mira, if that’s really who she was, snatched her hand back, letting her tablet fall to the deck.
Lena got between him and Mira. “Victor, what is wrong with you?”
Victor looked down at Lena. “That variblade she has up her sleeve? There’s only one person she could’ve gotten it from.” He looked over Lena’s shoulder. “Where is he?”
“Who?” Lena asked.
“The emperor. Where is he?” Victor shouted.
“Not on my ship, Victor!” Lena said.
“You’re lying,” he said, shoving her aside and stepping toward Mira, his prosthetic brushing the handle of his pistol. “What are you? Some kind of bodyguard? A servant? Where’s your master?”
His family’s variblade appeared in her hand, and a katana-style blade, just like his father favored, flowed from the handle with the unmistakable speed of a First Civilization model. “Stay away from me!”
Victor grabbed the handle of his pistol, but, before he could draw it, he heard the sound of another gun cocking next to his head.
“Victor, stop!” Lena said.
Victor shot an angry glance at the red-haired woman. “So how much is the emperor paying you?”
“I’m not working for the emperor!” Lena said.
“Then why do you have one of his minions on your ship?”
“It’s not what you think!” she said. “I don’t want to shoot you.”
No, she didn’t, judging by the fact her finger wasn’t on the trigger.
Victor put up his hands and glared at Lena. She walked up and pulled the pistol from Victor’s holster.
While she was distracted, he grabbed Lena’s gun by the barrel with his prosthetic hand and twisted the weapon from her grip. He immediately followed up with a left-handed hook to Lena’s temple, laying her out on the deck.
He turned to Mira just in time to see her swing his family’s variblade at him. Still holding Lena’s gun by the barrel, he barely brought it up to block, using its grip to hook the blade.
The edge bit deep into the metal and plastic of the gun’s grip, yet he kept the blade from taking off his head.
But Mira didn’t wait for Victor’s next move. She pulled the blade back, and the edge cut the rest of the way through the handle of Lena’s gun, causing bullets to spill from its severed magazine.
Victor threw Lena’s ruined gun at Mira, who dodged it, but it gave him enough time to grab his own variblade from his belt and form it into a longsword. Just in time to block Mira’s next attack.
Variblade clanged against variblade, once, twice, three times. It was all Victor could do to keep from getting cut as Mira launched a series of rapid slashes.
The skill and finesse with which she handled the variblade was impressive; something he would expect from one of the emperor’s bodyguards. And the idea that the emperor was aboard the Mae, within his reach, spurred him forward.
He launched his own assault, a constant barrage of heavy chopping cuts. Mira parried all the blows, but the violent impacts forced her to backpedal.
Victor kept up the assault, intent on pushing her into a corner, but Mira seemed to realize that. She ducked under a swing and rolled away from him to open some distance.
Victor gasped in surprise when Mira formed her variblade into a spear and thrust its silver tip at him. He spun away from the thrust and felt the tip glance against his armor.
A spear. That’s new, he thought.
Mira thrust again, and Victor parried. The variblade spear made a hollow ring as Victor’s weapon impacted it.
Victor knocked aside the next thrust and grabbed the shaft with his prosthetic hand. He then yanked the spear to pull Mira close, but the spear shaft went liquid in his fingers and flowed back into the handle of Mira’s variblade.
Victor made a left-handed slash at Mira, but she backpedaled from reach. He followed, intent on staying close so she couldn’t use her spear again.
Instead she formed her variblade back into a katana and brought it up in time to block another attack.
Sweat dripped from her brow, and her breath was heavy. She was tiring. She must have used up most of her energy early, during the initial rush of adrenaline. Skilled then but not experienced.
Victor proceeded to launch a constant barrage of slashing attacks. Mira parried them all, but he wasn’t trying to get past her defenses. He was battering her down.
He kept the pressure on, driving her back, not allowing her to disengage. When her back pressed against the wall, he chopped at her again and again, not bothering with any kind of subtlety. She blocked each attack, expending a little more energy every time, becoming weaker and weaker.
She slid down the wall, buckling under Victor’s constant attacks until she was sitting on the deck, her variblade held up in a quivering hand.
Victor was winded, and his heart thundered in his chest, but he had won. His opponent had no energy left.
He slapped the flat of his blade against the back of Mira’s hand. She yelped and her variblade—his variblade—clattered to the deck. He pushed the weapon behind him with the tip of his boot and held the tip of his own weapon under Mira’s chin. She looked up at him with a mix of fear and defiance.
“You fought well. Now tell me where the emperor is, and I’ll let you live as my prisoner,” Victor said.
“The emperor is dead!” Mira said, her voice cracking.
Victor sighed. “You made your choice.” He pulled back to deliver a killing thrust.
“Victor, stop!” Lena said. “She’s telling the truth!”
Victor glanced over his shoulder, keeping the tip of his variblade pointed at Mira. Lena was on her knees, blood seeping from the side of her temple.
“So how much is the emperor paying you to protect him, Lena?” he asked.
“I’m not protecting the emperor, you moron! I’m protecting his daughter!” Lena said.
“His daughter?” Victor looked back at Mira. He recognized something about her. Her eyes. Those fearful yet defiant eyes of hers. They were a brilliant sapphire blue. He had seen eyes like those once before, when they had stared down at him with hate as Savannah had burned.
“Son of a bitch!” Victor said. He stepped back, letting his sword hang at his side.
Lena got up shakily to her feet. “Yeah, you are.”
Victor glared at her. “You shouldn’t have lied to me.” He activated his radio. “Fara?”
“Captain, Cormac just reported that—”
“Never mind that, Fara,” Victor said. “I need boarding specialists on the Daisy Mae to take her crew prisoner.”
“What? Why?”
“I’ll explain when there's time,” Victor said. “Now send them aboard.”
“Yes, Captain,” Fara said.
“You can’t—” Lena hissed.
“You’re not in a position to stop me, Lena.” He turned to the
women he mistook for a bodyguard. “As for you—”
“You should address me as—”
“I figured out who you are, Princess Lysandra,” Victor said, embarrassed he hadn’t recognized her earlier. “As of right now, you and everyone on this ship are my prisoners.”
Chapter 26
The mercenaries took only a few minutes to secure the Daisy Mae. Their boarding was unexpected, and Lena, at Victor’s command, had ordered her crew not to resist.
Lysandra just lay where she was while Victor guarded them both in the galley until the boarding party arrived.
“Cuffs,” Victor said. One of the crew dutifully gave him a pair of plastic zip-cuffs.
Victor walked over to her and picked her up by the forearm. He immediately spun her around and zip-cuffed her hands behind her back.
She wanted to resist but didn’t. Not only because she didn’t want to cause any more trouble for Lena and her crew, but also because she was just too tired. She had expended herself fighting the mercenary captain.
Victor’s subordinate cuffed Lena and led her from the galley, toward the airlock. Lysandra followed in the grip of the mercenary captain.
Aboard the mercenary frigate, Victor took them to what Lysandra assumed was the small starship’s cargo hold. There Lysandra was separated from Lena.
Lysandra glanced behind her, as Lena looked back at her until she disappeared around a corner. She then glared at Victor. “What will you do with her?”
“I’ll lock her in the cargo hold. The brig isn’t big enough for her and her crew,” Victor said, not bothering to look at her.
“Please don’t hurt them,” Lysandra asked.
He pulled Lysandra to a stop and stared at her with his angry black eyes. She felt helpless with her hands cuffed, but she still made an effort to stand straight and look him in the eyes.
“What makes you think I plan on hurting them?” Victor asked.
“You already gave Lena a black eye,” Lysandra said.
“After she pulled a gun on me.”
“Can you blame her?”
“Yes,” Victor said. He tugged on her arm, and they were moving again.
A short time later, they arrived at the brig, which was little more than a cell with a couple acceleration beds, a sink, and toilet.
Victor pushed her inside.
Lysandra turned around to see him fishing around in one the pockets of his armored pressure suit.
“You may want to turn back around,” he said.
“Why?” Lysandra asked.
He found what he was searching for and pulled out a pair of cable-cutters. Holding them up, he said, “I was going to cut off those cuffs, but, if you want to struggle out of them, be my guest.”
Lysandra sneered at the mercenary and turned around. Victor walked up behind her and, with a quick snip, freed her hands.
Rubbing her wrists, she turned around to see Victor backing up to block the hatch. He had a questioning look in his hard eyes.
“What?” she asked.
“The emperor, your father, is he really dead?” he asked.
Lysandra sighed. “Yes, I saw it myself. Check the Mae’s logs if you don’t believe me.”
His face twisted into an angry scowl, and the muscles of his jaw flexed under his rough beard. He looked like a hunter whose prey had just escaped. Backing from the cell, the mercenary slammed the door shut.
***
For the seventh time, Victor hit Play and watched as the emperor’s yacht slammed into one of the frigates Uther Solari had sent to kill him. For the briefest moment, a new star flashed into existence,…and then there was nothing.
He hit Pause and reclined in his seat, scowling at the screen. Years of effort spent to get the chance to kill Emperor Magnus, only to see him die due to the betrayal of his own people. The irony of it did little to salve Victor’s bitterness.
What should he do now? Deep down a dark voice told him that he knew exactly what to do. The emperor’s only surviving child, his daughter, was in easy reach. A pull of a trigger, a thrust from a variblade, or even just a press of a button…
A knock sounded on his cabin’s hatch, pulling Victor from his dark thoughts. He got up and opened the hatch, finding Fara on the other side. “What?”
Fara crossed her arms, irritation obvious in her expression. “You weren’t answering the intercom.”
“I silenced it,” Victor said. “I said I didn’t want to be disturbed.”
“Well, too bad for you because we have bigger problems right now than your desire to brood.”
“I’m not brooding. I’m deliberating,” Victor said.
“Bullshit! You’re disappointed you didn’t get to kill the emperor yourself. Well, big deal!” Fara said. “We have more important issues right now, issues that require you, the captain, to deal with them.”
“I could just give up command and make you the captain,” Victor said.
She slapped him. Hard. “No! Just because I sleep with you does not mean I will clean up your messes. We are alone, in hostile territory, with a friend and her crew as our prisoners and a princess in our brig. All because of you!”
Victor rubbed his cheek. Fara had hit him so hard that stars flashed in his vision. He huffed and said, “Since when do I have to ask for your permission to be left alone on my own ship?”
“You just tried to foist your command onto me, so don’t even get started, Victor,” Fara said.
Victor sighed. She was right, as much as he hated to admit it. “Fine. What do you need me to do exactly?”
“Well, to start, Cormac decided to start repairs of the Daisy Mae on his own initiative after you failed to answer his calls. That means, we’re stuck here until you order him to bring his people aboard.”
“And you want to leave,” Victor said.
“Yes, but that’s not all,” Fara said. “Lena’s been banging on the cargo hold hatch, demanding to speak with you.”
“And you can’t speak to her?” Victor asked.
“I’m not the one who locked her in the cargo hold!” Fara said.
“Okay, okay. I’ll talk with Lena,” Victor said.
“And Cormac?” Fara asked.
Victor scratched the bridge of his nose as he thought of an answer. “Leave him be for now. But, if anything even remotely hostile shows up on your screens, you tell him to come back to the Alexander. Captain’s orders.”
“All right, that works—for now,” Fara said. She stepped aside to clear his way from his cabin. “Now get moving, Captain.”
Victor smirked at Fara and exited his cabin.
He arrived at the cargo hold hatch a minute later. Someone was banging on the hatch. Victor activated the intercom on his side and said, “Stop hitting my ship.”
One loud thump hammered against the hatch. “Fuck you! What makes you think you can board my ship and lock up me and my crew?”
“You lied to me, Lena. And then you pulled your gun on me. That’s not something I react well to,” Victor said.
“I wasn’t going to shoot.”
“Then you should have kept your gun in your holster.”
“I thought you would hurt Lysandra,” Lena said.
Odd she would use her first name, Victor thought. “Well, this is what happens when you lie to people, Lena. They can often jump to their own conclusions.”
“Well, the lie almost worked,” Lena said. “I wasn’t expecting you to recognize Lysandra’s variblade. What’s the story behind that anyway?”
“If we’re doing story time, then you start first. How did you end up with a princess on your ship?” Victor asked.
“Well, I got a message sent to me for a job.” Lena concisely recounted her meeting with the princess at a bar, the sudden attack by an Imperial kill-team, their escape from Lysander, and finally the surprise arrival of the emperor just a few hours before.
“And that’s all?” Victor asked.
“I’m not sure what else there is to tell,” Lena s
aid.
Victor rubbed his composite fingers over his beard. Based on what High Councilor Quill had told him about Uther Solari, he would try to kill the last heir of the emperor who he had betrayed. Thus, that same heir would seek to escape and try to warn her father. Too bad she was days too late.
“That actually does make sense,” Victor said.
“So you’re letting us go?” Lena asked.
“No. I said, your story makes sense. I didn’t say I trust you,” Victor said.
“So what will you do with Lysandra?” The concern in Lena’s voice was unmistakable.
That’s a good question, thought Victor. “She’ll stay in my custody. If Magnus Lacano is dead, that makes her Empress of Lysander. She’s too valuable to let go.”
“So you won’t give her to Holace Quill then?” Lena asked.
Not a bad idea. “Perhaps,” Victor said. “The Free Worlds and the Lysandran Empire are still at war. With Magnus’ heir as a bargaining chip, the war can be brought to a quick end.”
“But that would mean giving her to Uther Solari,” Lena said. “He’ll kill her.”
“So?” Victor asked.
“That’s cruel, Victor! She just watched her father die and had her world stolen from her. You can’t imagine what it must be like for her!”
Oh, I can imagine just fine, he thought. “I don’t know what High Councilor Quill will do with the princess, Lena. And I don’t really care.”
“Because all you care about is credits, right?” Lena asked.
No, not even those, he thought. “I suggest you get comfortable in there.”
“You’ll hand us over to the high councilor too?” she asked.
“I haven’t decided on that. But, until then, you’ll just have to sit tight,” Victor said. “I’ll provide what necessities you need in the meantime.”
“And what about my ship?” Lena asked.
“Give me a moment,” Victor said. He activated his suit radio. “Cormac.”
“Captain? I tried reaching you earlier,” Cormac said.
“I was indisposed,” Victor said. “Is the Mae repairable?
“I believe so, Captain. An overloaded capacitor caused a safety fail-safe to shut down the drives. I can repair it using spare parts from the Alexander.”
Refusing Excalibur Page 30
