Both Cormac and Deirdre laughed loudly at her lively display of temper.
“Hot! You’re hot for each other,” Deirdre said, bubbling with amusement.
But, Cormac cried in honest admiration, “Sure, you’re beautiful when you’re in a rage, me darling Trina!”
The Hawk pinned down her arms as if he was afraid she would strike him. He stared intently into her tawny eyes, murmuring, “For once, I am in full agreement with Master Cormac.”
Blushing deeply, Katrina glared at him, her lips compressed in stubborn determination.
Rory interrupted, “Stop flirting! We need to get the Shamrock into hyperspace and shake loose the Emperor’s tail. What’s my bearing, Trina? Hawk?” His gaze flipped from one to the other, as they stood close together, not quite embracing.
Shaking free of his grasp, Katrina strode briskly to the console. “Any reply yet from the Rogue Star?” Receiving a negative, she swung around to Black Hawk. “Niall, do you have any idea where your ship could be?”
He shook his head doubtfully. “It depends on whether they traced us to the Emperor’s ship before we escaped to Ulverkop. Otherwise, they may have no clear goal in mind.”
She stared at his face, finding no clues in the shadowed eyes, and carefully examined the sensor displays and maps. Finally, she made a quick decision. “We’ll wait five minutes. If they haven’t replied by then, we’ll go hyper.”
“Give me a destination to plot?” Rory asked, anxiety showing on his freckled face.
“Marina four,” Katrina suggested. “I’d like a comfortable seaside resort.”
Rory whistled, “Pop right into the heart of the galactic tourist trade! I love it.”
Deirdre giggled, “There’s no way the Emps will find us among those vacationing crowds.”
Only Captain Hawk was not enthusiastic. Shaking his head, he remarked quietly, “I would prefer a less popular destination.”
“We can drop you on some other planet of your choice,” Katrina told him coldly.
He gave her an enticing look, as if he wished they could be marooned on the same planet. She batted her eyelashes coyly, and turned back to the control panel.
A buzz sounded. “The signal is coming in from the Rogue Star,” Deirdre said.
Captain Hawk grabbed the com, eager to speak to his crew. The relieved voice from the Rogue Star said, “Captain Hawk, where are you? We’ve been searching since you were captured from the repair dock on Laos Minor.”
“Jake, I’m on a Solarian scouter, the Shamrock. We can meet you at,” he glanced quickly at the star charts, “the Willawanga system. It’s in an Independent sector with low population, and only two hyperspace jumps from our current location.”
“Will do, Captain! It’s three jumps for us, so we should arrive in about twenty hours.”
The Hawk nodded, closed the com and turned to the Shamrock’s crew. “I suggest we hype out of this system fast.”
Acknowledging his suggestion with a grin, Rory ran his fingers swiftly over the keys. “I’m setting up the jump schedule right now. We’ll go hyper in two minutes.”
“While we’re in hyperspace, I’m going to the galley,” Katrina said. “We haven’t eaten in at least two days.” She moved toward the door, and glanced over her shoulder at the Hawk. “Come with me, Niall. You need to eat too.”
He strode along the passage at her side. Feeling the dizzying mental disconnect as they shifted into hyperspace, Katrina swayed. He gripped her arm and steadied her.
“Sorry,” she said. “Going hyper always makes me feel queasy for a second.”
“Should I call you Captain Sligo?” he murmured. “You appear to act as commander of the Shamrock.”
“We don’t have formal ranks on the Shamrock. We take on tasks as needed, or those that match our skills. Cormac would say I’m just a take-charge busybody.”
9 Willawanga
THE SHAMROCK POPPED out of the second hyperjump and cruised towards the Willawanga system. Everyone gathered at the bridge. Deirdre was monitoring for any sign of enemy ships, and Rory was in the pilot’s seat.
“No signal from the Rogue Star,” Black Hawk muttered, peering over Rory’s shoulder at the screens.
“Your ship has to make a third hyper jump,” Deirdre reminded him.
Katrina examined the solar system at higher magnification. “Rory, let’s mosey over to Willawanga and slide inside its asteroid belt.”
The Hawk stared at her with a gleam of admiration in his sharp green eyes. “You think like a good pirate, Mistress Trina.”
“I’m an interstellar spy and secrecy is paramount,” she snapped back. Then, she grew thoughtful. “At least, I was a spy. My cover is probably blown by now. Surely, the Emps can connect the dots between the thief they captured on Ulverkop and the Shamrock’s search for the missing Mistress Trina.”
“We’ve got trouble! A battle cruiser exited hyperspace at our rear,” Deirdre yelled from her seat watching the screens. She tapped the keys frantically, searching for the ID signal. “It’s the Emperor’s Revenge on our tracks.” She swung to face the others who had fallen silent at her announcement. “They’ll have detected us by now.”
Katrina said, “Deirdre, beam an SOS signal to the Solarians. They must be on alert for us.”
“Get behind the sun and go hyper again as soon as possible,” the Hawk barked out.
His expression dubious, Rory said, “We can try.” His fingers flew over the navigation panel as he set the new course.
“Cormac, take control,” Katrina ordered.
Settling into the pilot’s seat, Cormac switched to manual control. His mobile face was serious. “We need speed and agility.” Under his skilled guidance, the scouter zoomed at a sharp angle, accelerating as it raced toward the small yellow star. He swung the ship on a zigzag course through the outer planets, and circled the sun, using its gravity to ramp up their speed.
Without warning, the Shamrock screeched to halt.
“We’re caught in their tractor beams!” Deirdre cried. “The Revenge is pulling us in.”
Stepping out of his seat, Cormac paced over to the tall locker beside the door, and drawled, “We’ll give ‘em a fight.”
He tossed a laser gun to Deirdre and handed another to Katrina, who had joined him by the weapon locker. Reaching inside, Katrina apulled out a long knife and stuck it in her belt. She opened the locker on the opposite side of the door and removed an armored vest and helmet.
“Are you with us, Black Hawk?” Cormac called out, as they prepared for combat.
His fists clenched and ready for a fight, Captain Hawk was still staring at the screens and estimating their collision time. He swung to face Cormac, a fierce gleam in his green eyes. “I am well armed.” He slipped the black glove from his right hand and raised his metal hand defiantly in the air. His tall dark figure exuded menace with the fine steel wires of his hand shining in the cabin lights.
Deirdre gasped in awe, “Sure, ‘tis our mythical Nuada of the Silver Hand come to life!”
Katrina smiled at her friends’ open-mouthed amazement on seeing the steel hand. She asked, “Will you take a second weapon, Niall?”
“Yes, my hand is best at short range.” He took a heavy slicer from the rack.
Cormac also took the heavy gun and a laser, one in each hand. He pulled body armor over his chest and handed another shielded vest and helmet to Deirdre.
Moving to stand beside Black Hawk, Katrina flattened the palm of her hand on his chest and declared, “We’re battle buddies.” She offered him a helmet and protective vest, and he swung the armor negligently over his shoulders.
A devilish glint in his eyes, he gazed at her face, and said, “Kiss me Kat! I march into danger.” He hoisted the gun onto his left shoulder and pulled her close with his metal hand.
“We go into danger, Niall,” she corrected him curtly, swinging her gun aside and raising her face to his. He kissed her firmly, yet too briefly. The warmth generated by his li
ps trickled through her body.
Nearby, Deirdre and Cormac dropped out of a fervent embrace.
Rory complained in a pathetic tone, “What, no one wants to kiss me?”
Deirdre and Katrina exchanged sly glances and stepped to either side of Rory, each planting a kiss on his cheek. Then, they returned to their men.
“We split up, one pair in each corridor,” Katrina instructed, leading the Hawk along the left passage. As they stepped off the bridge, the metallic clang proclaimed another ship had clamped against their airlock. They ran toward the sealed outer door.
It was too late to prevent the enemy from entering the scouter. As Katrina ran beside the Hawk, the red armored troops of the Emperor poured out of the opposite end of the corridor.
Heavily outnumbered by the enemy, Black Hawk retreated around the corner, pushing Katrina into cover behind him. He peered around the wall and fired into the attacking force. Screams and yells marked the retreat of the surviving troops. Slipping into the main corridor, Hawk raced after the troopers with Katrina at his heels, shooting continuously at their enemies.
More troopers appeared, pounding towards them from around the next intersection. On shouted orders, the retreating men slowed. Strengthened by the reinforcements, they resumed their assault.
Katrina and the Hawk backed against a wall, sweeping their fire over the advancing enemies.
Taking a hit on her ankle, Katrina screamed. She toppled to the floor, unable to stand. Knocked from her grasp, her laser skidded across the floor and clanged against the opposite wall, out of her reach. The Hawk stepped in front of her, protecting her prone body with a sweeping sheet of fire. Katrina attempted to crawl toward her weapon, dragging her injured leg behind.
Abruptly, the Hawk grunted and collapsed on top of Katrina, pinning her under his weight. His weapon thudded to the floor. Struggling to free her arms and upper torso, she grabbed his slicer. Propped against his body, Katrina gritted her teeth and fired into their attackers. In a cold fury, she aimed to slaughter them. A few seconds later, a whistle shrilled. On the signal, the troopers stopped shooting, turned tail and pounded out of sight.
Katrina shook her head in bewilderment. Why had they disappeared? It didn’t really matter, Niall was more important. Wriggling into a sitting position, she examined his unconscious body. She reached for his wrist and probed anxiously for a pulse. She felt the faint throb of his weak heart beats. He was alive!
She searched his prone body for the injuries. Blood welled from his lower torso just beneath the loose armored vest. Pulling out her knife, she sliced carefully through his clothes and exposed a bleeding slash across his abdomen. Katrina moaned. His wound was potentially lethal without expert medical help. Cutting strips of his black garments, she packed them tightly over his wound. She pressed her knee against the padded gash, trying to staunch the gushing blood.
She spotted a trickle of blood on the side of his chin where the cloth had unwrapped. Reaching across his body, she pulled away the headcloth to locate the head injury. Blood seeped from a shallow scrape across his cheek. Leaning over his face, she mopped the blood away. The new wound marred the left side of his face, which she had touched once before. Curious, she brushed aside the cloth veiling the right side of his face.
There it was! She had discovered the source of his mysterious aversion to exposing his face. Katrina ran her fingers over his cheek, feeling the ridged scars of the brand tattooed on his skin. He bore the Emperor’s brand marking the faces of criminals, and indeed, anyone else the Emperor wished to dispose of. No wonder he was ashamed to show his face to his high born wife!
Katrina was filled with pity. She didn’t despise him for bearing the ugly brand. The Emperor’s vicious hatred was well known to her and her Solarian friends.
As she bent over him, he moaned in anguish, his eyelids fluttered and opened. His green eyes were dazed and filled with pain. He focused on her face and his eyes brightened momentarily. His metal hand rose to touch the side of his face and he groaned in despair, “Leave me! I am dishonored. Let me die!”
His breath came in shallow, painful gasps, and he repeated in anguished despair, “Let me die!”
Aching with sympathy, Katrina touched his face gently. “Niall, please don’t die! I want you to live.” She wondered why his face was wet, and then she felt the tears swelling in her eyes. Her tears dripped onto his bare face and she pleaded with a desperate urgency, “Niall, don’t give up! I love you!”
For a second, he gazed straight into her eyes with sudden recognition and an echo of empathy. His steel hand gripped her arm, almost involuntarily. He groaned despondently, his eyes shut tightly and his head drooped to the side. He had fallen unconsciousness once more.
Katrina sobbed in despair, pressing her face against his wet, scarred cheek. Her misery was interrupted by the voices of her friends. She lifted her head to see Cormac and Deirdre shuffling awkwardly toward her.
“Trina, what happened? Are you hurt?” Deirdre called. She was leaning heavily on Cormac’s shoulder, with a stained bandage wrapped around one thigh. Cormac stood by her, clutching his bleeding right arm against his chest, his face pale and strained with pain.
“My leg is injured,” Katrina said, with tears still streaming down her face. “But, Niall has a horrible wound in his side. He’ll die unless we can find medical help. It’s awful. He said he wants to die!”
“Move aside and let me examine him,” Deirdre said, dropping onto her good knee beside the Hawk’s unconscious body.
Katrina attempted to lift her body away from Niall, but she couldn’t move her arm. It was locked tightly in the vice-like grip of his steel hand. “I can’t! He’s clutching on to my arm.”
Deirdre tried to pry away his steel fingers, without success. She remarked, “He wanted to keep hold of you, Katrina. Maybe he doesn’t really want to die.”
Katrina gave a shaky laugh and relaxed wearily in her awkward position. She lay partly across the Hawk’s chest with one knee pressed against his wound.
Cormac peered closer and muttered, “I see why he hid his face. It’s an evil brand. How did he annoy the Emperor?”
“It could be anything or nothing at all,” Deirdre said in a gentle voice full of sympathy. “We all know how the Emperor loves to mistreat his subjects, or indeed anyone in his power.”
“What can we do now?” Katrina whispered. She felt faint from the pain of her injured leg and hopeless about the Hawk’s lethal wound.
At that instant, the insistent buzz of a com rang loudly in the quiet corridor.
Deirdre grabbed her com. “Rory, what is going on? The troopers ran away.”
Rory’s voice quavered, “Sorry, I’m late. They beat me up before they left. But, I saw what happened. The Solarian battleship, Ulysses, popped out of hyperspace, and the Emperor’s Revenge skedaddled once their troops were on board. The Ulysses is chasing the Revenge. They’ve sent a scouter to rendezvous with us.”
“Tell them to send medics!” Katrina yelled. “We’re all injured and Captain Hawk will die without treatment.”
“Did you hear Trina?” Deirdre asked Rory. “She is correct. Also, we cannot operate the Shamrock with so many of us wounded.”
Cormac slumped to the ground, leaning his back against the wall, and muttered in a faint voice, “I’m staying here.” He supported his injured arm against his chest, groaned and closed his eyes, his face pinched with pain.
Deirdre bowed her head in exhausted resignation as she knelt beside Katrina and the Hawk.
They waited in anxious patience despite the agony of their wounds.
It seemed a long time before they heard the faint metallic clang of another ship engaging their airlocks.
Footsteps rushed toward them. Two medics raced over and checked their injuries with expert efficiency. They wanted to remove the Hawk first, since he was the most seriously wounded. But, the medics could not release his grip on Katrina. In the end, they were carried out together and transported
to the Ulysses side by side. In the ship’s sick bay, the doctors pumped the Hawk with anesthetic. As the pain receded, he relaxed and loosened his steely grip on Katrina’s arm.
Hawk and Katrina were separated for treatment. He went immediately into intensive care. She was prepared for surgery to restore her severed Achilles tendon.
10 Battleship Ulysses
AFTER THE BATTLE ON the Shamrock, they endured a slow convalescence, especially the Hawk. He was isolated in the intensive care facility on the Ulysses for treatment of his severe wounds. Due to their leg injuries, Katrina and Deirdre lay in adjacent beds in the sick bay. Cormac was ambulatory with his arm in a sling. Katrina asked about Captain Hawk every day. She longed to talk with him, but he was still unconscious and recovering slowly.
At length, she was permitted to see him for a short time. She was pushed on a hoverchair into his room, since she could not stand on her damaged foot, and left sitting next to the bed.
Katrina stared at the Hawk, saddened and appalled by his sickly appearance. Eyes closed, he lay motionless under the white sheet. His austere face was pallid and pinched with lines of pain. The ridged scars of his prison brand stood out against his blanched face. His very stillness was a complete contrast to his usual alert stance and feline agility.
Now she was able to examine his bare face, Katrina thought he would look handsome if he relaxed and smiled. She reached out to touch his left hand lying on top of the sheet. “Niall!” she whispered, tenderly caressing the back of his hand with her fingers.
His eyes flicked open and he gazed into her face. His lips twitched into a smile, softening his strained expression. “Katrina,” he murmured, eyes widening as if he saw a pleasant dream.
“Oh, Niall, please get well soon,” she pleaded, leaning over his bed as far as she could from the seat of her hoverchair.
Lifting his metal hand, he placed a gentle finger on her cheek and asked, “You don’t despise me for this dishonorable brand on my face?”
Captured by the Hawk Page 7
