by T. M. Catron
Then, she saw the building. No ship. Even though her brain told her it was hidden, her heart stopped at the sight of an empty place in front of the building. She held her breath.
“Is it still there?” she asked.
Solaris waved his hand, and the Star Streaker appeared in front of the building, intact and ready to go.
Chapter Ten
The beautiful bronze ship was the most welcome sight Rance had ever seen. Lit by the glow of a fire two streets over, her home shone even in the darkness. She checked the vicinity for trouble, but the way was clear. As they hurried to the ship, Solaris stumbled. Rance caught his arm and hauled him up. If only they could get to the door without trouble.
“Okay?” she asked. Although she supported Solaris, she too was about to collapse.
“Yep.”
But Solaris didn’t look okay, and Rance realized he’d been draining his power the entire time the ship had been disguised. For a whole day. Rance vowed to find better ways to disguise the crew in the future. Then she decided that in the future, she wouldn’t take on any jobs where disguises were required.
If they got out of this alive, she was going to start transporting illegal cappatters. No one attacked you for delivering squealing, cuddly pets.
As they reached the ship, the ramp lowered. Rance’s heart was beating loudly. They were almost home. Almost safe.
With almost everybody. Her heart wrenched when she saw Tally peering at them with his large, glowing green eyes. They stumbled onto the Streaker, collapsing onto the floor of the cargo bay. Rance kissed the cold metal for good measure. Then she rolled onto her back and looked up at Tally.
“Tell James to get us out of here, Tally.”
But Tally didn’t move. He always acknowledged her. Always. But now he stood there looking at Rance like he was afraid to tell her something. She propped herself up on her elbows.
“Tally? Where’s James?”
“He went out after Harper. I’d be out there too, but someone needed to be here if you needed help.” He looked at Moira. “Good to see you, my Lady.”
“And you, Tally.”
Solaris stood wearily to his feet. Rance hadn’t thought he had enough strength left, but he leaned on his staff and asked, “Why did Harper leave?”
“She was trying to figure out a way to boost communications. We wanted to be able to fly to you once you found Lady Moira.”
Rance struggled to stand. Every muscle in her body protested. But the panic she felt now tripled as she realized they’d have to go back out.
Solaris and Abel seemed to be thinking the same thing. Abel moved to the weapons locker to replace the ones he’d lost.
“I told everyone to stay on board!” Rance yelled as she went to get a gun of her own. For good measure, she grabbed two daggers and attached them with a belt.
“Yes, but Harper said she could get through the pirates’ jammers if she found the right spot on that building.”
Rance mashed the button to lower the ramp again. When it landed, she stomped off the ship. Abel and Solaris followed.
Out on the street, they fanned out once again, this time heading for the dark tower nearby.
“What was she thinking?” Rance fumed.
“She was trying to help, boss,” Abel said.
“She disobeyed a direct order,” Solaris said.
“Oh stuff it, Roote. This isn’t Unity.” Rance immediately chastised herself for losing her patience with Solaris. He was right. Harper had defied her even though it was to help.
“What do you think?” she asked after a minute. “Inside, or around?”
“If she was trying to get around the jammers, she would have wanted to go to the top of the building,” Solaris said.
“Then that’s what we’ll do.”
They hurried for the front steps, Solaris raising his staff in preparation for unlocking the door. Just then, someone yelled from an alleyway to the left.
Rance halted mid stride, listening. Abel nearly collided with her. Then she heard it again—a defiant cry, joined now by catcalling voices. As one, Rance, Solaris, and Abel changed course for the alley. As soon as they rounded the corner, Rance thanked her lucky stars they’d arrived when they did.
Harper was backed against a wall, her eyes scanning the faces of five men in front of her. Already a petite woman, she looked tiny in the shadow of the pirate thugs who carried small arms and lead pipes.
Harper’s eyes flashed in defiance as they closed in. She crouched low, ready to sprint for any opening they might give her.
Rance was furious, her tunnel vision returning. This time, she doubted Solaris would try to stop her from murdering the pirate scumbags. With the return of the tunnel vision, all weariness left her body, and her head cleared, ready for a fight. She checked her daggers, then raised her gun.
Rance, Solaris, and Abel charged at once. Time slowed for Rance, who had been in a handful of conflicts where she’d had to fight for her life. This one was different. They were fighting for someone else. She’d already lost one person in her charge tonight. She wouldn’t lose another.
The pirates heard the oncoming storm and turned to face their attackers. Rance’s Academy training kicked in, and she fired on the first who raised his blaster. Her shot hit him squarely in the chest, and he flew backward into the brick wall, narrowly missing Harper. The other four fired together, but Solaris generated a quick shield and blocked their fire. He sent out a burst of energy that sent them reeling back, their guns flying out of their hands. The shield wasn’t as powerful as he’d used on the pirates half an hour ago, but it allowed them to get to Harper.
Solaris was too tired to do more. Rance wasn’t going to see him get hurt, either. He’d already done enough.
So Rance led the charge, yelling a battle cry as she met the first pirate head on. She didn’t want to risk shooting Harper, so she hit the brute with the butt end of her rifle, knocking out two teeth just as he swiped at her with a massive fist. She dodged him and spun around to knock him in the kidney. He grunted but turned and came after her.
The others joined in the fray, even Harper, who’d thrown herself onto a pirate’s back and was trying to choke him. Rance lost track of who was fighting whom and concentrated on hitting anything that wasn’t wearing a navy flight suit.
The first pirate rapped her hand with his fist, and Rance winced when her dislocated fingers popped back into place.
She smiled. “Thanks,” she said and brought her knee up to connect with his groin.
The man doubled over. Rance launched herself at him, refusing to give him breathing space. One blow with her rifle, two blows, and he fell back, unconscious. She hesitated, tempted to finish him off. After all, they had taken Sonya.
But the ongoing fight drew her attention. Two more pirates were still up. Harper had been thrown off to the side, but she was getting to her feet as well. Solaris, clearly fighting fatigue, still managed to avoid his pirate’s jabs. Then, he found an opening and whacked the man on the head with his staff.
The pirate went down, laying still on the pavement.
That left one more. The four advanced on him, backing him against the wall. Rance raised her blaster and aimed it at his forehead. The blood-lust that had come over her was still coursing through her body, and it was taking everything she had not to pull the trigger. For Sonya, for the city, for Prometheus. “Talk, pirate, like your life depends on it.”
The man blinked. Blood gushed from his lip and down his chin. “I’m not a pirate.”
Rance laughed.
“I’m not,” he insisted, raising his hands. “The pirate symbols are a disguise.”
“For who?” Solaris asked. His face had turned ashen.
“Nilurians.”
Rance’s mouth dropped open. They were Nilurian Rebels? How had they managed to organize this much force? Rance became even more incensed. Pirates polluting and pillaging was one thing, but a coordinated attack by an organization that claimed to
devote itself to protecting the common man? An organization that led peaceful protests and fought for human rights?
Sonya had been a commoner. Who had protected her?
Rance holstered her blaster and drew her dagger. A clean death was too good for this one. The Rebel’s eyes filled with horror as he realized what she was about to do.
Then, the fear left his eyes, and he crumpled to the ground. Rance gaped in surprise and looked around.
Solaris was standing quietly at her side, having just delivered a well-placed blow to the Rebel’s head. Without killing him.
He fixed Rance with a shrewd gaze, but it wasn’t accusing. “He’s not worth it, Captain. Shouldn’t we go?”
The street beyond the alley was filling with people. Slowly, Rance’s head began to clear, and she could feel again. She felt mostly pain, and the traces of her anger faded into weariness. There was no time to contemplate what she’d almost done. They had to get back to the ship before it was overrun.
Where was James?
As if he’d heard his name, James appeared from somewhere behind, out of breath and looking relieved. He had a bag slung over his shoulder, stuffed full of something lumpy.
“There you are! Harper, you okay?”
Rance looked over at Harper, who was shaken but unharmed. Without waiting for any more disasters to befall them, the crew sprinted for the Star Streaker. As they exited the alley, a crowd was running for the ship. Some were closer than the crew was. They wouldn’t make it in time. Rance almost stopped, sat down, and cried.
Just then, the ship took off, leaving a trail of street dust behind it.
“Tally’s coming to get us!” James shouted.
Solaris looked like he wouldn’t make another step. Rance put her arm under him to steady him.
“You might have to leave me,” he whispered.
Rance snorted. “Don’t be so dramatic, Sunshine. Nobody gets left behind when you’re on my crew. How many times do I have to tell that thick skull of yours? I’m beginning to think I need to hit you over the head with your own staff.”
“Don’t. I’m too tired to block you.”
The Streaker whined overhead. The crowd changed direction, following. As soon as the ship got close, Tally lowered the ramp. The blast from the engines threatened to knock them all off their feet.
First, James jumped up. Then Abel, pulling Harper with him.
James paused, a horrified look crossing his features. Rance turned, expecting the mob to be on top of them.
Instead, they were scattering. Some still sprinted for the ship. Others were screaming and running in haphazard directions.
At the center was a gray-backed wolf-like creature with a spike on its tail. The same one that had chased them in the alley. As if seeking revenge, or attempting to flee the pirates itself, it turned toward the ship.
“Go go go!” Rance yelled.
Abel and James pulled Rance and Solaris into the ship. As soon as their feet hit the floor, the ramp closed. Rance caught a glimpse of fangs and saw the whites of the eyes of the people they were leaving behind. She didn’t know whether to thank the creature for scattering the mob or to hope somebody killed it.
Then, the ship was maneuvering through the city, and the crew scrambled to buckle in for their escape.
Chapter Eleven
When Rance pulled herself into the cockpit, she barely made it to her chair before her legs gave out. Solaris dragged himself up after her.
“You should go lie down,” she said.
“No, thanks, I’d rather see my death coming.”
He sat down but didn’t bother to buckle in, propping his staff against his chair and hugging it. Despite what he’d just said about being able to see, he closed his eyes.
“Hey, no one is dying today,” James said.
If only that were true, Rance thought. But James didn’t know about their loss. The Star Streaker lifted off. Just as it cleared the buildings, a huge fireball hit the exact spot where they’d been sitting. The massive shock wave hit the Streaker, knocking it off course with a shudder. Rance bit her tongue, and the warm taste of iron filled her mouth.
“Triton’s toes! They missed!” James said.
A small B-class fighter zoomed overhead, its dark green hull looking out of place next to the black ships they had seen earlier.
Rance’s heart raced in her chest, and blood rushed to her ears. But her body sagged into her chair, unable to process her fear fully. She stared out the window as if through someone else’s eyes. Searing pain shot through her arm—a deep gash was bleeding freely. One of the rebels must have nicked Rance with his knife. She hadn’t even realized it at the time. She covered the cut with her hand to avoid bleeding all over her seat.
“I think, Captain,” James said, “that it’s time for my stupidly stupid, death-defying trick.”
“What’s that?” Her words slurred. She must have been in worse shape than she thought.
“An in-atmosphere jump to hyperspace.”
“James Fletcher, don’t you dare!” Tally called over the comm.
Rance leaned over and switched it off. Then she addressed James.
“You’ll have to jump like you did on Doxor 5—short and sweet. Then we’ll prepare coordinates for a longer jump after we find an opening in the blockade.”
“That means we’ll have a short time where we’ll be sitting in space like idiots, waiting for the Nilurians to paint a target on us.”
“We don’t have a choice.” Rance flicked on the comm again. “Harper, tell Deliverance I need two sets of coordinates, to be used one right after the other.”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Is it wise to use Deliverance, Captain?” James asked. “After her malfunction?”
“We can’t afford to get this wrong. Harper will double check her calculations.”
Two small fighters appeared out of the sea of buildings, arcing gracefully between towers. They fired on the Star Streaker the second they came within range. James dipped and weaved back through the buildings, using the towers as cover.
“And hurry,” Rance added to Harper.
Orange fireballs shot past, narrowly missing the Streaker and striking a glass building. A section of glass wall shattered, sending a shimmering, glittering rain of shards to the street below.
“That was close!” James said. “Where’d they come from?”
Rance studied the Streaker’s sensors, which weren’t meant for tracking enemy ships in a battle. But she saw two little dots blipping in and out between buildings behind them. “They’re from those two small fighters, but you’ve lost them again.”
Solaris sat with his chin on his chest—frowning, breathing, listening. Was he meditating? Rance didn’t have time to ask before another rain of glass and fire fell from above, striking the shields and making Rance jump in her seat.
They were lucky the two fighters on their tail weren’t equipped with guided missiles.
“Harper?” she asked.
“Almost there, Captain. Deliverance isn’t cooperating.”
“How so, Deliverance?”
To jump into hyperspace in such proximity to a planet and ships is unheard of, Captain. The likelihood of death is three trillion to one. I cannot participate in these calculations. Suggest surrender.
“The likelihood of death is much higher if we don’t get out of here! We won’t surrender, Deliverance.”
“Captain,” Harper interrupted, “we don’t want to get this wrong. If the first jump is off by even a fraction of a degree, the second jump will send us into a part of space only the dead can find.”
“Just get us there, Harper. Deliverance, help her!”
A silent pause. The crew held their breaths. The Star Streaker dipped down and flew into a narrow side street. Its wings were so close to the wall Rance imagined them leaving sparks. But James’ experienced hands held the ship steady, waiting.
“Got them,” Harper said. “Sending to you now.”
The coordinates displayed on Rance’s and James’ displays.
“Everybody hold on,” Rance said. “Good luck, James.”
James scoffed, as if luck had nothing to do with it, and brought the Streaker out of the alleys. He maneuvered around another skyscraper, tilting the ship straight up for the clear sky ahead.
The hyperdrive spun up, sending vibrations throughout the ship. Rance could taste victory. They were going to make it.
Then, gliding over the city like a horrendous metal monster, a Renegade appeared above them.
Right in their jump path, pointing their cannons directly at the Streaker.
“Stop! James!” Rance yelled. Solaris opened his eyes and sat up, wide-eyed.
James was already correcting, punching a button and canceling the jump just in time. A collision alarm sounded. Rance punched it off as James banked left, away from the Renegade. More fighters zoomed around the buildings.
Rance held her breath, gripped her seat. There was nothing more she could do. No fancy tricks, no words of encouragement. Either James could out-fly them, or he couldn’t. Their lives were in his hands.
More fire from the ships behind, but James had changed course before it pummeled their shields again. Instead, he flew straight at the slow-maneuvering Renegade. Alarms went off everywhere—collision alarms, weapons alarms.
“Shut them all down, Deliverance!” Rance yelled. The alarms shut off, leaving her ears ringing.
Even this close, the Renegade could fire a missile, hit the Star Streaker, and absorb any damage to its own hull. But the Streaker wouldn’t survive. A direct hit would burst the Streaker and its crew into a thousand tiny pieces that would rain down on Prometheus like the glass from those buildings.
The ship shuddered again. Rance wasn’t buckled in, and she held on tight so she wouldn’t be thrown forward into James. Her broken fingers ached, but she forced herself to keep holding on.
