by Reagan Woods
“Only that we each hold our silence and the transaction takes place now.” The Troclian slid his robe discreetly aside to show a raised scar on his left shoulder. The triangular symbol bisected by a serpentine line was a shadow hunter’s seal – or a reasonable facsimile thereof.
“What would your Guild want with our ship?” Zocan asked curiously. The Guild of the Shadows were mercenaries for hire without loyalty save to one another.
“I have it on good authority that my quarry boarded your ship sometime late yesterday.” The lizard hissed causing Zocan’s heart to sink.
“Pardon me.” Natar raised a hand, a peaceful request for acknowledgement, and stepped forward. “You’re saying our ship was boarded by the people you’re hunting. You’re prepared to simply buy it and – what? – tow it away from the dock with your prisoners on it?”
This time, the Troclian’s laugh was uproarious, but his eyes were hard. “No.”
“No?” Natar asked, shooting Zocan a puzzled look.
Zocan had hardened his heart the moment he heard the ship had been boarded. He couldn’t think of Nora or the terror she must be feeling. If she remained alive.
He drew the Troclian’s attention back to himself with an impatient gesture. “Is our ship still in one piece?” The Guild wasn’t known for seeking permission before destroying property when something stood between them and their prey.
“Of course,” came the all too smooth answer. “I am Primo Hunter Vrenti and I have been charged by my superiors to bring my quarry in – dead or alive. My team is watching your ship now. Everything is quiet; however, we are prepared to move should those we seek attempt to leave.”
“We must verify your story,” Zocan stated implacably. He tossed a felted blanket over the sword and began to pack it. Lyon and Z’cari were certainly watching the activity from afar. The hurried motion was designed to alert them that trouble was afoot so they could follow Zocan and Natar to the ship without breaking cover.
Natar took a defensive posture as they followed the Troclian down the main thoroughfare. There was every possibility they were walking into a trap. If that were the case, he had quite a bit of fury stored up and some unlucky shadow hunters would be the target of his wrath.
Chapter 23
It was cold and dark in the void. Nora’s nose ran and she couldn’t feel her toes any longer. The intruders were searching for her – not her specifically, of course – but they knew someone else had been on the ship. Eventually, they would access whatever internal monitoring system the ship had and find her hiding spot. The only thing saving her right now was that these guys were less familiar with this ship than she was.
She huddled at the very top of the spiral staircase and listened. Millimeters of hard metal separated her from the flight deck. Best guess, the staircase dead ended right into the support console for the instrument panel in front of the pilot’s seat.
Dumbfounded, she’d realized the intruders didn’t know how to turn off the glitchy translation system. They weren’t even sure what it was. So, while the ship was no longer under her control, sheer luck was on her side for once because they were inadvertently broadcasting their intentions in English.
“You four, get out there and keep looking. I know someone else is here. I can smell it,” she heard the growly barks before the translation system’s mechanical voice. There was something vaguely familiar in the angry quality of the intruder’s native tongue, but she couldn’t put her finger on what. Frankly, she was too scared to give much more than a passing thought to anything outside her paralyzing worry.
They really weren’t going to stop until they found her, she realized with a sinking feeling in her stomach. Guilt warred with fear. Even if she managed to remain hidden until the Lyaran’s returned, was that how she should repay their kindness, by letting them stumble into a situation that could easily end them? Ugh. She was so not a hero.
There was a loud rumbling and she realized that the remaining intruder had started the ship’s engines up. Hijo de puta. As of now, hiding was no longer an option. If she wanted to see the Lyarans ever again, she had to act and quickly.
She readjusted her position on the wedge-shaped step to get a better feel for the metal wall that separated her from the would-be pilot. Part of her was expecting it when a little pressure allowed her to silently slide the wall to the side.
Now what?
Her heartbeat thickened as she stared at the scuffed black boots of the intruder in the pilot’s seat. Did she really have it in her to kill someone in cold blood? She thought of the priests, of the way they’d treated her and Lyon’s assertion that females were often treated that way and worse by the people on sketchy worlds like Coniru.
Nora drew a deep breath and gripped the handle of her axe in both hands. Now was not the time to let her soft heart rule her. If these intruders managed to get the ship into space before she took them out, she’d be screwed because she couldn’t pilot the damned thing.
In the limited light from the door she’d cracked, Nora scanned her surroundings. As she stood on the staircase, the ship’s prow was at her back. The metal duct work that doubled as the flight console support extended down even with the floor of the cockpit, so it was about three feet. After that, the stairs weren’t so closely bound by the metal walls.
The would-be pilot shifted in his seat and his shiny faceplate swung into view. Nora didn’t have time to debate, she punched her axe forward, jabbing him with the hard blade – thud, thud - twice in the same spot. The force of her blows shattered the face plate and his big body slumped. He rolled in slow motion as his listing weight carried him awkwardly out of the chair.
Within moments, he lay sprawled on the floor, his neck bent at an impossible angle. Mouth agape, she clambered out of the hidden access. Hysteria bubbled up and she pressed a hand to her mouth to hold the overwhelming emotion inside.
Heart pounding in her chest, she sat her axe carefully aside and gingerly tugged at the fallen male’s leg. He was too heavy to move, but if she left him there, she’d certainly be discovered.
She felt light-headed with panic and she shivered as she broke out in a clammy sweat. Suddenly standing upright, she realized the loud thudding she heard wasn’t her heart. Heavy boots slammed down the hall at a galloping pace. Somehow, the intruders knew their pilot had fallen. She didn’t need the translation system to tell her they were alarmed, their shouts made it obvious.
Nora felt the seconds ticking by like water through her hands. She had no idea what to do. Turning in a confused circle, she debated shutting herself back inside the console or running for one of the staterooms. There just wasn’t any time and she was in over her head.
Her eyes landed on the shiny round stick hanging from the dead guy’s belt. The surprisingly warm weight was in her hands before she fully realized she’d reached for it.
It was almost like her father was there with her, coaching her as he had through a thousand drills, reminding her of the things to do when she was backed into a corner. They’d come up against plenty of raiders and military men. She’d fought with her people and she’d won. Fear was a sure way to die. “It’s imperative that you go on the offensive. Don’t sit and wait for these pendejos to take your life, hija mia. Take the battle to them.”
She hopped, feet first, into the vacant pilot’s seat and crouched down behind the high seatback. Her axe was nestled close, and she ran her fingers over the pilot’s weapon finding nothing but smooth metal. With a shrug, she held the new weapon at the ready, the way she’d seen the intruders do when they cleared the ship.
As she held the weapon, it heated in her hand. Her fingers felt like they were melting into the smooth metal. The sensation gave her the urge to flick the stick, but she held off. Somehow, she’d activated the thing. Now, she had to hope she wouldn’t accidentally kill herself with it.
The pounding footsteps and angry shouts cut off. From her position, she couldn’t see the other intruders, but she knew they’d spot
ted the pilot. She heard the rustle of movement and stood tall, her body rising over the seatback as she flicked the wrist of her weapon hand at the alien closest to her.
He fell to the floor as a sizzling bolt caught his face mask. The firing weapon kicked back, and she had to brace to maintain her footing on the gel-seat.
Nora didn’t have time to assess her strike because his companion was turning towards her, his own weapon raised. She didn’t hesitate, using every ounce of strength she possessed, she jumped vertically to the top of the seat back and leaped, bringing her axe down hard on his extended arm as she landed on the floor. He made a choked sound as his arm fell, useless, to his side.
Almost as an afterthought, Nora flicked her other wrist, aiming the energy bolt at his heart this time. The knee-jerk panic she’d felt at the boarding? She’d ruthlessly shoved that down, subverting it to her will to survive. If there was time later, maybe she’d have a sick panic attack.
She was too busy thinking like a killer now, like the predator her father had trained her to be, so she didn’t quibble over slamming her axe into each of the fallen male’s neck area for good measure. Someone else was going to have to clean this mess up because she wasn’t doing it, she thought, feeling somewhat removed and a little floaty.
Walking over to the console, she quickly removed the device she’d seen the intruder insert when they’d first arrived. The ship’s engines immediately quieted, falling back to a steady hum. Interesting.
“Computer, are you under my control again?” She asked, testing.
“Affirmative.”
“Computer, how many intruders remain on the ship and where are they located?”
“There are two intruders on the ship. Both life signs are in the lift en route to this deck.”
“Perfecto.”
It was time to take the fight into another area. The flight deck was too cluttered for what she had in mind.
Chapter 24
They wasted more time arguing than Zocan would have liked. Finally, Primo Hunter Vrenti agreed to his demand that they keep the boarding party small. They had a better chance of sneaking aboard the ship with a small, tight team. Not to mention, a large squad of the destruction-prone hunters tearing through the ship would likely void any chance of selling the thing once this was over.
Lyon and Z’cari had gotten close enough to ascertain what had happened and had broken cover. Rather than get angry, Zocan had felt relieved that they had more fighters he could trust. Vrenti had supposedly been transparent with him – revealing his numbers and his mission plan, and that was an unusual tactic for a member of the Guild.
In the end, Vrenti had brought two hunters – also lizards - along. The four Lyarans and three Troclians gained entry easily enough using the passcode Nora had agreed to set for them.
The doors to the lift slid open and the seven fanned out onto the third deck, Vrenti spearheaded the formation. He tilted his head inquiringly at Zocan, and Zocan pointed forward toward the flight deck. They needed to determine who was controlling the ship.
Common sense dictated they sweep the staterooms and the kitchen as they made their way to the cockpit. Z’cari and Lyon paired with the Troclian’s two hunters and broke off to do the search.
Zocan’s shoulders tensed with dread and a sick anticipation as they painstakingly checked each room. He didn’t want to think of poor Nora, bound and bloody, but he understood that was likely the best they could hope to find. He worried over Lyon and his reaction to the female’s predicament as well. So far, his mate was keeping his apprehension well in hand. Zocan followed suit, blanking his mind and focusing his senses on locating the enemy.
“Here.” Lyon poked his head out into the corridor to wave them over to the small storage closet. His broad face was totally void of emotion.
Zocan braced himself and joined his mate. He scanned the corners of the small room and noted blood spatter over the walls. Cold nausea crashed in a slimy wave through his body and sweat beaded on his brow. Stoically, he forced his eyes to the floor of the small room.
“Wh-what has happened here?” He stepped forward, automatically breathing through his mouth to combat the coppery stench of blood.
“It was a hard ending for these two,” Vrenti answered, pushing further into the tiny room. His massive shoulders shrugged as he toed one of the bloody corpses. “Hunil, take the heads,” he commanded the taller of his two hunters.
Hunil pulled out a laser cutter and a cold bag from the pack on his back and obediently started his gruesome task. The sizzling crackle of the laser sliding through sinew and cartilage were the only sounds for a moment.
“Perhaps they turned on one another?” Natar offered from his spot in the hall. Z’cari and the other hunter stood sentinel behind him.
Zocan exchanged a look with Lyon. “Perhaps,” he offered, though he knew it was probable that the intruders had fought over the defenseless female they stumbled upon. Sex with a flesh and blood female was a powerful motivation for murder to some. It was unlikely that hardened criminals being pursued by the Guild stumbled upon females often. They probably lost their heads. “Let’s finish this.”
Vrenti turned a flat gaze on Zocan, his claws tightening around his boom stick, the sonic weapon often used for acquiring high-value targets in heavily populated areas with minimal damage. “I sense you haven’t been forthcoming with me. These five brothers were wanted in every system for many years until we apprehended two of them and stopped their nefarious activities. They were sent to a Guild-operated penal planet. Somehow, the remaining three eluded capture and helped their brothers escape. It seems unlikely they would turn on one another now.”
Hunil stood and hooked the cold bag to his pack. Smoothly, he shifted behind Vrenti, the message clear; he had his Primo’s back and was prepared to fight his way through the Lyarans if it became necessary.
Lyon was at Zocan’s side in a matter of seconds. The hunter in the hall jostled with Z’cari for position and Natar stepped away from the door to put himself between the two.
Zocan held up a hand, palm out. The air was redolent with the acrid tang of mistrust and he needed to diffuse the situation. Bounties abounded on his own crew’s heads; there was no need to push Vrenti into trying to cash in on them. It would be catastrophic if he, Lyon, Z’cari and Natar had to kill the Troclians. They’d angered enough powerful people for the moment. They didn’t need to incur the wrath of the Guild, too.
“It was unsafe for one of our crew on Coniru. We left that person here and we’re not sure what we will find. It seems likely we will find our friend dead, yet we remain hopeful. Either way, someone has done your job for you.” He gestured imperiously at the downed males. The Troclians would have to be satisfied with the half-truth.
“While I understand your hesitation to mention someone you believe to be vulnerable, I need to know all the facts,” Vrenti hissed coldly, his claws tightening and relaxing rhythmically on his weapon. “I’ve brought my hunters into this. They are my responsibility. If harm befalls them due to your lack of candor, it will put you in a bad position with our Guild.”
“Understood,” Zocan said grimly. This wasn’t going to end well. However, the only option was to proceed as allies.
“Let us finish the sweep.” Vrenti gestured for his team to stand down.
Zocan followed suit. He made eye contact with each of his males, making sure they understood the situation was volatile and that it was imperative to proceed with care.
The atmosphere remained charged as they re-took search formation. The trust – limited though it had been - was lost among them; each time one moved too quickly the others immediately tensed. Zocan was counting on his team to keep clear headed and calm.
They cleared three more staterooms and the kitchenette before breaking to a hard stop at the sight of legs sprawling into the corridor from the cockpit.
Natar and the smaller Troclian stepped forward to assess the open portal before waving them ahead.
> “I’d like to meet this crew member of yours,” Vrenti commented neutrally as he surveyed the carnage. “I believe the Guild owes him a debt of gratit - er – what is that noise?” He asked, clearly unable to identify the language the mechanical voice was translating into.
“It is a malfunctioning program,” Zocan answered neutrally. “Nothing to be concerned over.” For the first time, he began to seriously consider the mindboggling possibility that Nora had not only lived through the commandeering of this ship but that she had also managed to fight the enemy off.
Death hung thick in the dry, recycled air. It was impossible to say if any of the blood spatter over the controls and seats belonged to Nora. Yet, Zocan stood straighter and peered around as unobtrusively as possible, looking for some indication that she’d survived the confrontation with the intruders. “Lyon, you and Z’cari head straight to the main med bay.”
Lyon was already half-way down the hall and Z’cari hurried to catch up, his footfalls echoing ominously in the too quiet ship.
“If you’ve collected your proof of death, I’ll escort you off our ship,” Zocan casually offered as Vrenti’s hunters slung their bulging cold bags over their shoulders.
Vrenti’s scaly mouth rolled into a flat smile. “First, I would like to meet your butcher to…offer my thanks.”
Chapter 25
Nora huddled in the dark at the top of the closed off staircase. Taking shallow breaths through her mouth, she tried not to think about the dead bodies that lay mere feet from her hiding place or the smell of charred flesh that invaded her nostrils. They were obviously doing something to the bodies, but she couldn’t begin to think what. She shut that line of thought down for fear her imagination would run wild.
Instead, she focused as Zocan conversed with someone. Rather than the flowing, lyrical tones of Lyaran, Zocan’s words were more sibilant and carried a darker, harsher undercurrent. The glitchy translation system didn’t let her down though.
