Ariston_Star Guardians

by Ruby Lionsdrake

  Realizing her top was open, revealing her stomach and bra, she cursed to herself and paused to button it before bursting in on Safin.

  In the cockpit, voices came from the comm, a spattering of them talking over each other.

  “…mean, sir?”

  “There was a storm.”

  “There still is. Sir, can’t you—”

  “I don’t want to hear excuses,” responded the captain’s cool voice—she remembered it from the night before. “You get control of that other ship, search it for artifacts, and prep it to bring it into our hold. If it won’t fly again, then prepare to scrap it for all the valuable parts. If you want a ride back up, you’ll get it—and all the artifacts those people have stolen. You should have taken care of them yesterday.”

  Smoothing her clothes, Mick stepped into the cockpit. Most of the snow had blown off the forward camera, and she could see the area out in front of the Viper on the view screen. It had stopped snowing and hailing, but wind continued to rail against the hull. The sky had grown lighter, but not much. Clouds blanketed it, hiding the orange sunrise, wherever it was.

  “Why is he so certain we’ve been stealing artifacts?” Safin whispered, even though they weren’t transmitting, only listening.

  “I have no idea,” Mick said. “Maybe he saw our people out taking samples.”

  “What if we can’t take over their ship?” one of the men asked.

  “You want a ride off that dust ball, you’ll get the ship and anything they’ve stolen.”

  “…Teia said they saw them get a bunch of stuff, sir. What should we do with it if we get it?”

  “Bring it aboard. We’ll drop it off with some archaeologists in the Ios System when we swing through to sell the parts from the unfortunately lost-to-misfortune ships we found and salvaged.”

  Mick grunted. “Unfortunately. Right.”

  “And if you can, bring me that traitorous Ston,” the captain said, distaste dripping from his voice. “I want him dead, but I’d prefer to kill him with my own hand. After I question him to see who the bastard is working for.”

  “Gladly, sir.”

  “Who the hell is Teia?” Safin whispered. “And what stuff? Our team didn’t find any artifacts or anything valuable, right?” He frowned at her.

  “Not that I know of. I was busy fixing the ship, but I didn’t see anyone except Ariston carrying anything back.”

  “What was he carrying?”

  “Dev. And her soil.”

  Mick was aware of Ariston standing in the corridor right outside the cockpit, but she didn’t look at him. She was also aware that he still wore only his underwear, and she didn’t need to be distracted by that right now. If they ended up finding a way onto the salvage ship, she was going to make him go to his cabin and get his clothes. No rides for people who didn’t have a full set of clothing.

  “We’ll get them, sir,” a determined voice said over the wind. “Get that shuttle ready. We’ll have everything for you in under an hour.”

  “You better.”

  The chatter ended, leaving Mick scowling at the comm station. It sounded like she would need to defend her ship. And soon.

  How was she supposed to ambush the shuttle being sent down if she was busy repelling a siege?

  “Teia is a woman’s name,” Ariston said.

  “Thanks for the tip,” Mick snapped, then regretted it. She had enjoyed kissing Ariston—all right, doing a lot more than kissing—and she ought to simply remember that, rather than the look she’d seen in his eyes afterward. But it stung, more than she would have thought it would, that he might have been thinking about the love of his life while being with her.

  He gave her a slightly puzzled look, but all he said was, “I saw her out in the ruins with a man from the salvage ship. She was the one to pull up a skull while I watched, and she and her partner may have gotten more skulls during the night. They were somewhat protected in that reservoir.”

  “She’s an archaeologist?” Mick asked, not certain how this tied in.

  “No, a woman on Eryx’s crew. An opportunist, I would guess. It sounded like she checked the wreckage of the crashed ship, found information about ancient skulls and a gem-like chip embedded in them, and learned that collectors will pay a great deal for them. It’s possible she and her partner got caught by the rest of the men down here, or that the others were suspicious when they were gone all night. Maybe they tried to cover their tracks by saying your people got the skulls. Eryx, for all his flaws, seems to want to protect the ruins from looters. From what I’ve gathered, he’s something of a vigilante. He doesn’t see himself as a criminal.”

  An unexpected expression came over Ariston’s face, one she couldn’t pinpoint. Regret? Wistfulness? Ruefulness?

  “Apparently,” Ariston said, perhaps seeing her confusion, “Eryx only attacks criminals, or those partaking in criminal actions, then feels justified in taking their ships for salvage.”

  “We’re not partaking in anything criminal,” Safin said. “And he had his people attack us.”

  “You’re trespassing on a protected planet,” Ariston said before Mick could attempt to explain.

  “Er, what?” Safin appeared genuinely surprised.

  Mick had a feeling nobody here had a clue that they were breaking Confederation law. Maybe Umbra didn’t even know.

  “We’ll worry about it later,” Mick said, lifting a hand to stop Ariston from explaining. “We’ve got a more pressing problem, one that’s going to press soon.”

  She flicked her hand over the sensor display to bring it out of sleep mode, then checked on their weapons status. The night before, the Viper’s weapons had been down, but Woodruff had mentioned working on them while she’d been out wrangling those panels into submission.

  “We can fire the top Ferango cannons while sitting on the ground,” Mick said. “You can rotate them three-hundred-sixty degrees, like this.” She demonstrated for Safin’s sake.

  “Am I your new gunner?”

  “You’ll have to be. I’m going to be out there, shooting the crap out of any asshat that tries to get close to the ship. I didn’t do all those repairs just to have my baby blown up again.” Mick looked at Ariston. “If you’re done cavorting through my ship in your underwear, I’d appreciate it if you would put on your armor and help me.”

  His jaw tightened, and she sensed that she’d offended him. Which made her feel like an ass.

  Whatever he’d been feeling during or after that kiss, it didn’t mean he was a jerk. Just that he’d lost someone he would probably never get over. She had no right to be cold to him because she could never be the person he’d lost.

  “Actually, if your man can let me know when the shuttle shows up on the sensors—” Ariston nodded to Safin, “—I’ll prepare to run over and ambush it when it lands. If some of Eryx’s men are busy attacking your ship, that’ll be a good time for it. I can take it over, fly it up to the salvage ship, get your converter, and come back down. Or if there’s a chance I can take over the salvage ship and subdue the crew… I’ll do that. Either way, I’ll make sure you get your part.”

  “That sounds like a lot for one person to do,” Mick said. “Can you even fly?”

  “If the conditions aren’t too tricky. But I can force the pilot to fly if I need to. I’m not feeling overly warm toward those men after what they’ve done in the last two days.”

  “Me, neither.” She grimaced, Dr. Garcia’s specter coming to haunt the back of her mind. Thinking of his death made her feel guilty for worrying about kisses and relationship woes.

  Safin experimented with the weapons controls. “What’s the range?” he asked.

  “Five kilometers, but you can shoot at an ant on that boulder over there too. And raise the shields as soon as I—the two of us—get out there,” she said, nodding at Ariston.

  “I’ll get ready,” Ariston said, turning back into the ship.

  “Me too.”

  Mick trotted after him. He grabb
ed his shirt on the way past the table, their cards still scattered across it, and she tried and failed not to think about the kiss, about him being so turned on by her touch that he jammed her against the table without a word, his mouth descending on hers with raw, hungry need.

  He turned into the airlock where he’d left his armor to dry. She headed toward her cabin, but hesitated with her hand on the latch.

  “Ariston?” she said over her shoulder.

  He peered out of the airlock, his chest piece already in hand.

  She was horrible at apologies, so she said, “You’re a really good kisser,” and hoped he would understand.

  “So are you.”

  “But you suck at Kapti.”

  He snorted, half smiling. “Thanks for building up my ego before ruthlessly destroying it.”

  “Any time.” She gave him an old Marine salute before ducking into her cabin to change.

  They didn’t have much time, and she needed to raid her chocolate coffee bean stash before going into battle.

  15

  Fully armored and armed, Mick crouched between two boulders, watching her sensor display for signs of life. Though she didn’t know if she could trust it or her vision. Being outside again made her uneasy, and she anticipated she would start seeing things that weren’t there soon.

  The Viper was at her back, shields up and the two Ferango cannons on top ready to fire. Mick hoped their enemies wouldn’t realize how many repairs she and Woodruff had accomplished before the storm started. Maybe they would underestimate what it would take to finish off the ship.

  The wind still blew, shrouding the horizon with orange dust and whipping sand and snow against her faceplate, but weak orange sunlight filtered through the clouds and the haze, promising they were at the tail end of the storm. An experienced pilot ought to be able to land in this.

  Even as she had the thought, a blip showed up on her sensor display.

  “Captain,” Safin said over the comm, his mouth full of something—coffee, perhaps. “Do you see that? A shuttle is heading down.”

  “Thanks, I see it. Ariston?”

  “I see it,” he said from behind a different boulder. “It looks like it’ll land on the far side of the ruins. If you think you can handle defending your ship, I’ll go after the shuttle. It will be shielded, so I’ll have to time my attack to get inside the hatch when it’s open for their men to go in.”

  “Do you think they will split forces?” Mick figured he would be more likely to know what they would do than she. “Some going straight in while others come over to attack my ship? The comm message from the captain made it sound like no one was getting in until they defeated us.”

  And found a ship full of artifacts. That would be a disappointing search for them, unless they considered Dev’s soil samples particularly enthralling. They had better not take her bag of coffee beans. She was running low. She’d tossed a big handful into her mouth before heading out here.

  “I suspect the people from the first shuttle who came down without armor may be waiting over there for that shuttle, since I’m not reading them over here,” Ariston said.

  “Could be, nobody’s over here. What if they knew we were listening and deliberately misled us, so we’d stay here to defend the Viper instead of ambushing them?”

  “They shouldn’t know about the ambush.”

  “They could guess. If they believe my ship is out of order and that we’re trapped down here…”

  “I’ll head over to the shuttle now.”

  Mick glimpsed the back of his patchwork armor as he left his cover and ran around boulders toward the ruins.

  If they were expecting him, would he truly be able to take control of the shuttle by himself? Or would they be waiting, all the men who’d spent the night here and all the men who’d been sent down? They could be ready to blow him into smithereens right now. If that was the case, he might need an ally.

  A couple of silent minutes passed, and Mick grew more convinced that nobody was coming to attack her ship. Even if a legion of men did, Safin and Dev could fire the cannons from inside, cannons that would do far more damage than her bolt bow. She might even hinder her people if she stayed out here to engage the enemy head on, as she’d planned to do. Her people would have to hold their fire out of fear of hitting her.

  “Safin,” Mick said. “I’m going over to that shuttle in case Ariston needs help.”

  “I haven’t observed that he ever needs help.” Safin must have seen some of Ariston’s fighting skills when he’d been defending the Viper the day before.

  “That’s because you haven’t seen how poorly he plays Kapti.”

  “I am on this channel,” Ariston pointed out dryly.

  “I keep no secrets from my crew.”

  She meant it as a joke, but sobered quickly when he replied, “Do they keep secrets from you?”

  Mick still wasn’t certain if Dr. Lee or any of the others had known more about Umbra’s plans than she had.

  “We’ll have to have a chat later and find out,” she said, running between the boulders in the direction he had gone.

  “I want you to stay and defend that ship so everyone has the best chance of surviving for that chat,” Ariston said.

  His way of saying that he didn’t want or think he needed her help? If he thought that, he was being cocky. The odds would be far better with two armored warriors assaulting that shuttle.

  Not wanting to argue with him, Mick kept her mouth shut as she continued on. If the Viper was attacked while she was on her way through the ruins, she would turn around. This wasn’t such an epic journey that she couldn’t make it back in time to help.

  As she entered the ruins, her sensors registering nothing but the lizard creatures under the rocks, she almost ran straight into a man in turd-brown armor crouching in a rubble-filled courtyard. He was setting something up, something that looked a lot like a grenade launcher on a portable tripod. The way it was pointed, it would fire over the ruins and toward her ship. Maybe landing right on her ship.

  The shields could repel en-bolts for a long time, but grenades or other heavier ordnance? She didn’t know. And she wasn’t about to find out.

  Mick slipped behind a rubble pile and lifted her bolt bow. The man hadn’t heard her approaching—maybe that wind was useful for something—and she got off a shot before he noticed her.

  Of course, her en-bolt bounced off his shoulder armor without leaving a dent. She held her finger down on the trigger, hoping a sustained blast would burrow through, but he reacted instantly. Before he even saw her, he fired.

  Crimson bolts slammed into the rock wall behind Mick, shattering ruins that had stood for thousands of years. His aim improved as he spotted her. Out of habit, she ducked for cover behind her rubble pile when his shots arrowed toward her face. Logically, she knew the helmet, and even the clear faceplate, could withstand some abuse, but her instincts overrode that logic.

  Bolts blew into her rock pile, hurling broken pieces of wall into the air. One landed on her helmet with a disturbing bang.

  She crawled to the other side of the pile, leaned out, and fired. Again, her aim was solid, striking him on the chest piece this time, but he stood there and accepted it. Apparently, his instincts knew the armor would protect him. Once again, he aimed at her face.

  Growling, she ducked low. She needed to aim at something more vulnerable. He was laying down fire all over her rubble pile, blowing stones to dust. Soon, she would be left out in the open unless—

  “The grenade launcher,” she muttered.

  “Captain?” Safin asked, monitoring the channel.

  She didn’t explain. She leaned out from the other side of her pile and this time targeted the tripod and the launcher mounted on it. Had he loaded any ammunition yet? There was a box of shells or something similar near his feet. He kept firing and hadn’t moved away from the launcher.

  Her en-bolts blew into the metal, tearing the launcher from the tripod. She didn’t get the
spectacular explosion she’d hoped for. As he shot at her helmet again, she lowered her aim, firing at the box.

  An en-bolt streaked into it, and it blew up magnificently, a fiery yellow ball of flames filling half the courtyard and fully encompassing the man. A shockwave rolled away from the explosion, heat and power pummeling her in the chest. Her armor protected her, but several alarms flashed down her faceplate, warning her about the extreme temperature change.

  Not trusting that her enemy’s armor had failed, even when he’d been standing in the center of the explosion, Mick raced forward as soon as the flames died.

  The man lay on his side, his armor charred and melted in spots. His boot twitched.

  Mick pointed her bolt bow at him, figuring he was stunned and wouldn’t react to a sustained blast this time. But she hesitated to fire. If this were Earth, she wouldn’t shoot to kill someone, even someone who’d been trying to blow up her ship and the people in it. It would still be considered murder, still be against the law.

  This wasn’t Earth, but she’d been making out with a law enforcer that morning, and this planet was under his jurisdiction. She’d noticed that he was trying not to kill anyone, choosing to subdue them instead.

  But how the hell did one subdue someone protected by armor? It wasn’t as if she could bop him on the head, tie his belt around his wrists, and toss him in a closet.

  His bolt bow lay several meters away, so she settled for grabbing it and ensuring the grenade launcher—what remained of it—was inoperable. He would probably wake up, but with his weapons gone, she hoped he would stay out of the rest of the battle.

  She started after Ariston again, but paused. Could there be more men with more grenade launchers setting up to attack her ship? Maybe she should let Ariston handle the shuttle on his own—it was what he wanted, after all—and do a circuit to check for this guy’s buddies.