Fallen Empire 2: Honor's Flight

by Lindsay Buroker

  “I’ll wait at the airlock and charge onto their ship if I can,” Leonidas said. “I suggest you call the rest of your people up here and lock the hatch. The soldiers shouldn’t have a reason to harass the rest of you. Most of you.” He looked down, checking the battery pack on the blazer rifle slung over his chest. “I know you must have thought about handing Dr. Dominguez over, too, but since they haven’t inquired about him and the artifact, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t volunteer anything about him. Of course, I can’t stop you if you do.” He inclined his head and turned toward the hatchway.

  “No, damn it.”

  Leonidas looked back, his eyebrows raised.

  “Stay right there. Let me think a second. This is ludicrous. There has to be an alternative.”

  “We’re clearly trapped.” He waved toward the view screen full of ships. “But once they have me, they should leave your ship alone.”

  “I’m not worried about my ship. Those are my people you’re about to blast into. I don’t want them killed. And you’re my passenger. You paid your fare. I don’t want you killed, either.”

  “There’s no alternative,” he said softly, holding her gaze with his.

  Maybe it was her imagination, but she thought she read regret in that gaze. Despite his eagerness to leap into battle, maybe he regretted that he had to go out this way. Maybe he even wished he could stay on the Nomad and accept her offer of employment.

  “Sure, that’s it,” she muttered with a snort.

  “What?” Leonidas asked, even though he had probably heard her.

  “We’re making an alternative.” Alisa hit the internal comm button. “Stay,” she told Leonidas, pointing at the deck as if commanding a dog.

  His eyebrows twitched.

  “Mica, you keeping abreast of the situation?” Alisa asked.

  “I have a porthole down here.”

  “I’ll take that for a yes. How familiar are you with that tug over there?”

  “It’s an IM-7 Digger-class salvage tug with the imperial numbers filed off and Alliance paint covering the hull. It has improved power systems over the IM-6, with twin Z-drive 3619C engines that have a towing capacity of over 100,000 tons.”

  “So, you’re vaguely familiar with it.”

  Maybe she, like the gangly young boy Alisa had met on Perun, had a model of it.

  “Vaguely,” Mica agreed.

  “If you got aboard it, would you know how to break the grab beam?”

  “I can break anything on any ship.”

  “How is it that employers weren’t storming our hatch, trying to get you on their team? All right, good. Get whatever tools you need and meet us at the airlock.”

  “The airlock that’s already getting a tube and clamps extended toward it?” Mica asked.

  Alisa winced. “Yes, hurry. Leonidas?”

  “Yes?” he asked warily.

  “I need you to talk pretty to Alejandro. Tell him to get on the horn and call those imperial ships we passed on the way out of orbit. Tell him to let them know that his orb is about to fall into Alliance hands, so they might want to come out here and make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “I don’t care. Do it anyway. Go. Shoo, shoo.” She waved her hands at him, then turned back to her console. She doubted Tomich would tell his people to bother her ship, but she would lock down the controls so nobody but she could access them.

  “You really want those imperial ships to come over here?” came Mica’s voice from the corridor. She stepped past Leonidas as he was going the other way. “You’re not trying to start another war, are you?”

  “No, but we need some chaos if we’re going to have any chance of escaping. There are three other ships out there with grab beams. Didn’t I tell you to meet me at the airlock?” Alisa added, her hands flying over the controls.

  “I got ready more quickly than you.” Mica patted her satchel, but looked over her shoulder. “You sure this is worth it? Does the Alliance care about us, or do they just want the doctor?”

  “Leonidas.”

  “Pardon?”

  “They want Leonidas. Remember that warrant?”

  “I remember him being a colonel in the army that spent four years trying to blast us out of the sky and, oh, a lifetime oppressing us so that we lived in fear of spitting.”

  “You’re not going to get pessimistic on me, are you?”

  “Of course not. What’s there to be pessimistic about?” Mica waved at the various camera displays, all of them full of warships. “I’m just saying that maybe we should give him—both of them—to our people.”

  A clank sounded against the hull. The ship shivered, and Alisa imagined giant talons wrapping about the hull, grasping it tightly to the tug’s side.

  She finished and pushed away from the controls. “They paid their fare. We’re not giving anybody to anyone.”

  Mica grabbed her before she could head through the hatchway. “Alisa, don’t be ridiculous. If we openly side with them, the Alliance won’t forgive us. I don’t want my family suffering for the choices I make here. I already spent four years worrying about that during the war.”

  “We’re not openly siding with them,” Alisa said. “We’ll be…”

  “My prisoners,” Leonidas said, returning to NavCom.

  They turned together to look at him. He had donned his helmet, and one of his hands rested on the blazer rifle strapped to his torso. As it always did, seeing him in full combat armor—the armor of the enemy—made Alisa uneasy.

  “If you insist on coming along, that is,” he added, his frown making it clear that he didn’t think that was a good idea.

  “We do,” Alisa said, as Mica shook her head. Alisa nudged her with an elbow. “Some intellicuffs for our wrists would be good, though. Then if we’re spotted, it would be obvious we’re prisoners.”

  She did not like the idea of making Leonidas seem like a villain—more of a villain—in the Alliance’s eyes, but Mica was right. It would be foolish of them to make themselves enemies of the Alliance on his behalf. She had no trouble snubbing the remnants of the empire, but this was different. As she had said, these were her people.

  Mica sighed. “I have some old-fashioned metal handcuffs in my cabin. I’ll get them.”

  “That’ll have to do,” Alisa said, stepping past Leonidas to follow her to the crew quarters. He came right behind her.

  “I’ve put together something special too.” Mica dug a small device out of her pocket—a remote control?

  Before Alisa could ask what it controlled, Beck ran out of his cabin, his combat armor on. “We’re getting boarded, right?” he asked as Yumi poked her head out of her own cabin across the way. “I assume you want me to wait somewhere, fully armed and ready to spring into action when they come in?”

  “Actually, I was hoping you could give yourself a black eye, then tie yourselves up.” She nodded toward Yumi and also waved toward Alejandro’s hatch, which had just opened.

  “These aren’t the usual requests made to a security officer.”

  “I’m an unusual employer.”

  “Not arguing, Captain. Not arguing.” Beck did look like he wanted to argue about staying out of the fighting, but Yumi stepped forward and took his arm.

  She started to guide him back toward the cabins, but Mica called out from her own room, “Have anyone who’s not involved in this scheme stay in NavCom with the hatch locked. I’ve got a surprise rigged.”

  “A surprise we’ll like?” Alisa asked.

  “A surprise those boarding us won’t like.”

  “You heard her.” Alisa waved Beck toward NavCom.

  “There’s no place in this freighter we could hide?” Alejandro asked from farther down the corridor, his satchel clutched to his side. “That cubby in the cargo hold, perhaps? I’m sure navigation will be the first place they look.”

  “They’ll be busy looking at me,” Leonidas said.

  “Because you’ll be shooti
ng at them?” Alisa asked. “Or because of your blinding handsomeness?”

  He frowned at her, no hint of a smile on his face.

  “If it’s the first thing, I’d prefer we do this without killing any Alliance soldiers,” she said, holding his gaze.

  “What are we doing exactly?” he asked.

  “Boarding them while they’re busy boarding us,” Alisa said, “disabling their grab beam, making a messy distraction on their ship somewhere, perhaps with explosives, and then coming back to the Nomad and flying away. Without killing anyone.”

  Leonidas stared at her, and she thought he would say something along the lines of, “That’s ludicrous,” or “If they shoot me, I’m shooting them back.” Instead, he said, “If they’re in armor, I may be able to break it down without killing them.”

  “What if they’re not in armor?”

  “I can target their knees.”

  Alisa grimaced, remembering that both of her kneecaps had been shattered in that last crash on Dustor. She had passed out before enduring the pain for long, but she vividly recalled those few minutes before she had.

  “Better than their heads, I guess,” she murmured.

  Mica stepped out of her cabin. “His and her models.” She waved the two pairs of metal handcuffs at Alisa. “Which do you want?”

  “Well, you’re the one with short hair and a surly disposition.”

  “Ha ha. If we had more time, I’d clobber you for implying you’re more feminine than I am.” Mica tossed a set of cuffs into Alisa’s hands.

  “I’m not sure that statement corroborates your claim of femininity.”

  A clank sounded, and an alarm went off, the warning that someone was forcing the airlock door. Alisa hurried toward the cargo hold.

  “Are there keys to these?” she asked, noting the physical keyhole.

  “I don’t have them anymore,” Mica said, “but if you get them lubricated enough, you can slip out.”

  “Ew.” Alisa clasped one side of the cuffs around her wrist, leaving the other free for now.

  “Maybe your new cyborg buddy can help you.”

  Despite the direness of the situation, Alisa flushed with embarrassment. She hoped that wasn’t why Mica thought she was taking this risk. Alisa just wanted to protect her people and the Alliance soldiers.

  “I can break them easily,” Leonidas said, either ignoring or completely missing the innuendo.

  “You must be fun in bed,” Mica said dryly.

  His brow wrinkled behind his faceplate. Alisa almost laughed, but there was no time. They had reached the airlock door, and the bangs and thumps coming from the other side promised it would be open soon.

  “They’re going to burst in here with their guns on autofire, aren’t they?” Alisa asked, noting with some amusement that Yumi had found the time to stack crates all around her chicken pen and reinforce the netting stretched atop it with more layers. She couldn’t blame her and hoped nothing happened to the birds.

  “Likely.” Leonidas pointed to a corner protected by a beam and more crates. “I’ll charge into them. You hide.”

  “I have a better idea.” Alisa grabbed his arm. “We’ll all hide.” She tugged him toward a concealed door in the bulkhead, the same spot where they had hidden when the ship had been boarded by pirates. “Just long enough for them to come in and spread out.”

  Mica did not hesitate to rush to the spot and open the door. Alisa followed her, crouching to squeeze in behind her, but she paused when Leonidas did not follow. A hiss-clank came from the airlock. The soldiers would force their way in any second.

  “Leonidas, come on.” Alisa jerked her thumb into the dim storage space.

  He must have objected to the tone of her voice, or the order itself, because he said, “You’re not my commander, Marchenko.”

  “I’m the captain of this ship, and you’re on this ship. Look, I’m trying to save all of our butts. Get over here. Please.”

  “It’ll be easier to make those kneecap shots when they’re spread out and you can sneak up on them,” Mica added.

  “You can’t sneak up on a man in combat armor.” Leonidas waved to the back of his helmet, probably indicating the camera embedded there.

  “Oh, I think you’ll be able to,” Mica said cryptically.

  “Come on, Leonidas,” Alisa said. “I’ll rub your ears if you join us.” Maybe bribery would work better with him than commands, since he seemed to believe his former military status as a colonel meant he outranked her, even on her own ship.

  After a long look back toward the airlock, he finally strode across the hold. The doorway to the hidden compartment was just large enough for his broad armored shoulders to fit through. As soon as he squeezed in, Alisa pulled the door closed behind him. Darkness fell in the cubby, a spot meant for hiding valuables in case of a pirate boarding, not for hiding people. The door did not have a peephole or any way to see what was happening in the cargo hold, though the clangs from the airlock reached Alisa’s ears.

  “Despite your interest in comparing me to a cat, a bat, or some other animal, I prefer shoulders,” Leonidas said.

  “Pardon?” Alisa asked.

  “Shoulder rubs.”

  “Oh. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “I bet you will,” Mica muttered.

  Alisa might have flushed again—she would definitely have to set Mica straight in regard to her feelings toward Leonidas—but a final ominous clang came from the airlock. After that, silence fell. Alisa imagined soldiers in combat armor streaming into the hold, rifles pointing in every direction as they searched for enemies.

  Something touched her hand, Leonidas’s gauntleted fingers. He gently but firmly snapped the second side of her handcuffs around her wrist. A faint click sounded as he did the same to Mica.

  Soft thuds came from the other side of their door. Someone walking past—or walking toward them. Alisa held her breath. She knew the door concealed this cubby from plain sight, but she had also heard that some models of combat armor had special visual sensors that gave the wearers access to night vision and thermal vision. What if the door panel was not insulated enough and their body heat registered to such a scanner?

  “Unleashing the surprise,” Mica whispered, her voice so soft that Alisa was not sure she had heard correctly.

  Not wanting to make any noise, she did not ask for clarification.

  A startled exclamation, the voice muffled by a helmet, came from the other side of their door. Someone barked an order from the far side of the cargo hold. Alisa, crouched with her back to the wall and Leonidas between her and the door, felt her feet lighten. A hint of vertigo washed over her as they went from feeling light to lifting off the floor.

  “Your surprise was to cut gravity?” Alisa breathed, bracing herself with a hand on the ceiling of the compartment and a foot against something else.

  Was that Leonidas? If so, he hadn’t moved. He still crouched in front of the door. His combat boots would have magnetized soles for fighting on the exterior of a ship or in situations without gravity. So would those of the men outside. Alisa grimaced, doubting Mica’s surprise would do anything, other than to warn the soldiers that someone was up to no good on the ship.

  “And the lights,” Mica whispered. “I left power on in NavCom, but that’s it.”

  Thinking of helmets with night vision, Alisa did not know how much help that would be.

  “I like it,” Leonidas breathed, but did not explain further. He shifted closer to the door, almost dislodging Alisa’s foot. Maybe it would add a degree of uncertainty or confusion to the other side, and he would have an easier time sneaking up on them. And if he tackled someone, it might knock the person’s magnetized boots free from the deck.

  “Did Alejandro comm the imperial ships?” Alisa murmured.

  “I don’t think so,” Leonidas whispered. “He said he wouldn’t. I pointed out that any help would be useful, even that of Senator Bondarenko’s people. He may change his mind.”

&n
bsp; Leonidas did not sound confident on that last note, and Alisa’s stomach sank with a feeling of defeat. If the imperial ships did not come over to at least make threatening noises in the direction of the Alliance ships, nothing they did on the tug would matter. Even if they managed to free the Nomad, the warships would simply recapture it.

  The squawks of alarmed chickens came through the door, and Alisa imagined them floating up into the netting above their pen, terrified and confused. Poor things. As much as she had enjoyed the morning omelets, she didn’t think livestock should be riding along when the Nomad had been encountering trouble so often. She hoped none of the young idiots with guns would find it amusing to shoot the chickens.

  A couple of minutes passed, and Alisa did not hear anything besides the squawks. Had the men moved to search the rest of the ship? Their cubby was near the steps, so she ought to have heard people clanging up the metal treads, but they might be stepping carefully—softly—if they were worried about flying up into the zero gravity air.

  “There are only two left in the cargo hold,” Leonidas whispered. “I’m going out. Stay here until I come for you.”

  “Kneecaps,” Alisa told him, though if the soldiers were all in combat armor, she knew he would have to do more than that. “And be careful,” she added.

  It was too dark to see anything, but she imagined Mica giving her a curious look.

  Alisa did not hear him open the door, nor could she see anything outside, but he moved away from her foot, leaving her scrabbling for another hold, and she knew he was gone. She had barely registered it when the squeals of blazer fire erupted near the airlock. Streaks of crimson lit up the cargo hold briefly, but from her spot, she could not see anyone or tell who was firing.

  The fight ended almost as soon as it had begun. Alisa was tempted to poke her head out, not that there would be anything to see in the dark, but a touch to her shoulder made her twitch in surprise.

  “Stay,” Leonidas said. “The others will be here any second.”

  Not waiting for her response, he refastened the door, leaving Alisa and Mica alone in the dark.

  Chapter 16