by Leslie Chase
“It’ll make a pretty scar, but what you really managed was to make him angry. I’m not sure I’d call that a win, not while you’re in his power.”
“I’ll do more than that,” I promised. “Give me a chance and I’ll carve out his heart for laying hands on my mate.”
That threat got a sad chuckle from Jorn. “You won’t get that chance, Arrax. Zarr’s too careful.”
Arrax, he called me. Not Captain. Even my closest friend was adjusting to Zarr’s takeover, not that I blamed him. He was a doctor, not a fighter, and he’d have to tend the injured no matter who was in charge.
“I’ll take whatever chance I’m offered,” I told him. “This isn’t a slave ship, and it won’t be while I’m alive. If Zarr wants to be just another bastard trading in the misery of others, he should have taken a position elsewhere.”
Jorn nodded reluctantly, then offered me a hand. Though neither of us said anything, it felt like a goodbye. Once I left the infirmary, the odds were I’d die before I saw my old friend again.
Two guards took me to the bridge, Elisan and Bron. Zarr’s closest companions; he wasn’t going to give me a chance to speak with anyone he didn’t trust. A smart decision on his part.
I glowered at Elisan as we walked, rubbing the wound on the back of my neck. Whatever Jorn had applied to it was working wonders, but I still hoped I’d get a chance to repay Elisan for ambushing me like that. If he hadn’t interfered, I’d have put Zarr’s mutiny to rest before it got out of hand.
The forward screen showed the nebula, glowing crimson tonight; Zarr stood against it, letting it frame him. He did have a flair for the dramatic that suited a pirate captain, I had to admit. It was a trick I’d used often enough that I could appreciate when I saw it played well.
“Arrax, welcome,” he said. “Let us put our differences behind us. I won, you lost, but the crew of the Atreon’s Revenge will be taken care of. There’s no need for anger between us.”
He spoke as though this were some kind of game, as though all that mattered was who won. As though there were no lives hanging on this.
“Where is Marcie?” I asked, taking his measure. The wound on his cheek was closed, sealed shut and healing. If he lived long enough, it might make a dashing scar. I didn’t intend to let that happen.
His betrayal alone I might have forgiven, but my blood boiled at the memory of his hand on Marcie, the pain on her face, the fear in her eyes. No matter what else happened, he would die for that.
Perhaps some of what I felt showed in my expression, because Zarr stiffened and took a step back. His eyes narrowed and his forked tongue darted out to taste the air.
“Don’t you worry,” he hissed. “She’s fine, see? What happens to her is down to you, and your cooperation.”
“Lies,” I snarled back, baring my teeth. “You’ll sell her to the Antarans no matter what happens.”
I took a step forward, judging the mood of the room. One on one I’d take my chances with Zarr, even if he had a sword and my hands were empty. But unless someone else stepped up to take on Elisan and Bron, they’d hit me in the back again. I’d only get one shot at this fight.
And no one on the bridge looked like an ally. In his navigator’s chair, Wir busied himself at the controls and refused to look up. Raxa had plugged herself into the computer and retreated from reality. No one would stand with me.
Which didn’t mean I wouldn’t fight, only that I needed to pick my moment. Find a time when one single attack would be enough, because I might not get a second. And with Zarr watching me, I might not even get a first.
There was a limit on how long I could wait. Once the Antarans got here Marcie’s fate would be sealed for good. If I took Zarr out before, then she stood a chance. Even if I died in the fight, whoever took over was more likely to keep her out of their hands than Zarr was.
I took a deep, centering breath. Closed my eyes, let it out, and focused. If one shot was all I’d get, I had wait for the perfect moment to make it count.
21
Marcie
My tears dried up eventually, more out of spite than anything else. I refused to give Zarr or his men the satisfaction of seeing me cry.
An hour or more after he’d abandoned me in the captain’s cabin, one of the crew came by and dropped off a tray of food and water. He didn’t answer any of my questions, barely looked at me, just put down the tray and left.
I glared at the door, wiped my eyes, and tried to think.
If I waited for the perfect moment to act, I’d still be sitting here when the Antarans came to collect me. And ending up in their hands would be worse than anything else Zarr might do to me, so I had to do something right now.
Even if it got me killed.
Arrax would try to save me if he was still alive, and I refused to consider the alternative. The idea that he might be dead hurt too badly for me to consider. That didn’t mean I should rely on him to rescue me, though. He might not even have woken up yet, and even if he had, he’d be under guard somewhere.
I had no allies, and on my own I stood no chance at all. I needed to do something, anything, to change that. Even a stupid plan would be better than waiting here to die.
“Count your assets,” I told myself, speaking aloud to help myself focus. Did that make me crazy? Maybe the situation called for some crazy. “Myself. One pirate’s bedroom. One tray of food and water.”
I looked around, wondering if Arrax had left any weapons in here. They were supposed to be locked in the armory, all aside from his personal weapons and he’d had those on him when he’d been captured. Maybe he had spares, though?
It was worth checking, so I searched. Nothing. The wardrobe just held clothes, there was nothing under the bed, the bathroom was empty.
I turned back to the wardrobe and considered, the seeds of a wild plan growing. Arrax had said that being a pirate captain was ninety percent showmanship, hadn’t he?
“This is a terrible idea,” I told myself as I pulled down a long leather coat. It was heavy, the sleeves were too long, and the coat trailed behind me on the deck. But as I pulled it on I felt an aura of confidence settle over me and a smile spread on my face.
There was a hat too, but it turned out to be far too large, sliding down over my eyes when I pulled it on. I threw it aside, taking a kerchief and using it to tie back my hair. The bathroom mirror let me get a look at myself, and I didn’t know what to think. Was I the too-small Earthwoman playing dress up? Or a fearsome pirate on a mission?
It’s all in the attitude, I told myself, rolling up the coat’s sleeves to look a little less ridiculous. Don’t doubt, just act.
Now the question was how I’d get out of the room. That wasn’t an easy problem to solve, and I only had a single idea. A gamble, but this whole plan was a series of mad gambles piled on top of each other.
The view screen on the wall responded to my touch, lighting up with a menu. A simple one, for media and entertainment, but I hoped I’d be able to get somewhere from here.
There’s always a help button. Every interface has one somewhere, a way to reach out for assistance if you’ve broken the system. On Earth, it wouldn’t do me much good — just send an email or call a helpdesk or something.
But we weren’t on Earth. This was a pirate ship run by a captain who valued his crew, and who looked after them well. One who made sure they had the entertainment they needed between fights. That meant that maybe, just maybe, the help function would connect to someone able to actually help me.
Or it might do nothing. Or, worst case, it might connect to someone on Zarr’s side. I dithered, finger hovering over the button. Bit my lip.
Took a deep breath, drawing on Arrax’s strength, and pressed the button. Hammered on it over and over — no point in half measures now.
“This is not the time,” a voice that managed to sound both inhumanly calm and annoyed said. A clever trick. “You can watch all the videos you want once the mutiny is over.”
Was that
her? Hard to tell through the artificial voice.
“Raxa?” I asked quietly, hoping that I’d guessed right. And that if I had, she’d listen to me.
“Marcie?” Her voice sounded distant, strange, but it was her. “What are you doing? Are you okay?”
“I’m locked in the captain’s cabin, and I need you to get me out of here,” I said. A long, nerve-wracking pause followed. Would she side with Arrax, with me, or had she taken Zarr’s side? I held my breath.
“I can give you alpha-level access privileges,” she said finally. “All the ship doors will open for you. But you’ll just get yourself killed if you try to fight them.”
“Better than waiting here for the end,” I said, daring to breathe again. To my surprise I sounded calm, almost eager for action. The confidence I borrowed from Arrax’s coat seemed to be working.
On the inside, I was still a wreck, certain something would go wrong, something would get me killed. Still better than waiting for Arrax to get himself killed trying to save me.
I wondered if he was thinking the same thing somewhere. Perhaps he was about to launch himself into some foolish, desperate, last-ditch effort to save me before I got myself killed for him.
That thought scared me more than my own death, so I took a deep breath and steadied myself, ready to leap into action. The sooner I did something, the less likely Arrax would try his own mad plan.
“Very well,” Raxa said, sounding distant and dreamlike. “You have full access to the ship now. Whatever you’re doing, you will have to hurry if you want to help Arrax. He’s here on the bridge, and if I know him, he’s waiting for his chance to act.”
I swallowed, a pit of dread opening in my stomach. Don’t you dare get yourself killed, Arrax, I thought, opening the door and stepping into the empty corridor beyond. Now came the next question: which way to go?
Head straight for the bridge? No. I didn’t kid myself — a fair fight against one pirate and I’d be toast. Even an unfair one wouldn’t give me much of a chance. To achieve anything, I’d need a distraction and allies.
Fortunately, I had one waiting for me in the hold. Warily making my way aft, my heart pounded. If I ran into one of the mutineers this escape would be cut short, but none of the pirates were in the corridors. Probably celebrating in the mess or hiding in their quarters until things settled down, I thought. That suited me for now.
No one guarded the cargo hold either. Why bother, when the lock would keep out anyone who didn’t have authorization to enter? My pulse racing, I pressed my palm against the scanner and hoped for the best.
Raxa’s hacking worked its magic here too, and with only a slight hesitation the doors slid open.
Inside, stolen stasis chambers filled the hold. I swallowed, thinking of the lives inside. Lives that would be ruined if Zarr had his way.
We’ll see what we can do about that, I thought, moving from one chamber to the next and hitting the switches. Behind me, the doors slid open and confused, angry voices demanded to know what was going on.
I grinned and turned back towards them from the far end of the room. Tried to think like Arrax, to draw from him. Took a deep breath.
Ninety percent showmanship, ten percent not giving a fuck, I told myself, and started organizing my counter-mutiny.
“So you’re freeing us, but we have to fight our way through the pirates who stole us from the slavers?” Myros Telv summarized once I’d explained the situation in quick terms. I nodded at him, glad that someone had stepped forward to speak for the freed slaves. They were a mix of aliens from different species, and they’d never met — they had no leader, but seemed willing to let Myros ask the questions that needed answers.
The rest muttered amongst themselves, undecided. I didn’t blame them, this was a lot to take in, but we didn’t have long. Now that the stasis chambers weren’t drawing power anymore, someone on the bridge would notice sooner rather than later.
“We only have one chance at this,” I said, jumping up on one of the now-empty chambers and putting my hands on my hips. Hopefully that looked impressive rather than silly — it definitely got their attention. “If Zarr stays captain, he’ll sell us all to the Antaran mob. But if we can get to the bridge and put Arrax back in charge, he’ll free all of you. That’s what he was going to do anyway.”
Several young men grinned at the thought of a fight against their oppressors, and I grinned back. Others looked hesitant, and several began shouting objections. What little order Myros had forged began to disintegrate, and I didn’t have time for that.
With a piercing whistle, I drew their attention back to me. “No arguments, no debate. I’m not saying you have to follow me, just telling you what’ll happen if I don’t win. So I’m going, right now, to rescue Captain Arrax and save the day. Who’s coming with me?”
Without waiting for an answer, I hopped down from the chamber and marched towards the door. It took all my willpower not to look back, not to check who was following. There had to be enough of them, there just had to be. If the slaves didn’t back me up, I’d lose. With luck, I’d die fighting rather than being recaptured and sold to the Antarans.
How does Arrax do this? He had to face this feeling every day, and I shivered at the thought of that stress. Being a leader wasn’t easy, it was painful.
I wondered why people fought so hard to be Captain. You couldn’t have paid me enough to take the job, but Zarr was willing to kill for it.
The door slid open again at my command and I started forward, heart pounding and mouth dry. Footsteps behind me let me know that I wasn’t alone, but whether I had enough followers only time would tell. I refused to look back, to let the people behind me see how scared I was. Let them believe that I was as brave as I pretended; that would help them find their own bravery.
Fixing my thoughts on Arrax, I headed for the bridge. We made it nearly half way before my luck ran out and a pirate stepped into the corridor ahead of us.
He stopped, eyes wide, looking at me as though he’d seen a ghost. I froze as well, my whole body stiffening, and for an endless second we stared at each other.
The moment broke, and he reached for the blaster at his belt. That ended my paralysis too, and I jumped forward with a shout. If he got that gun out, this attack was over.
“Get him,” I cried, grabbing his wrist and hanging on for dear life. The blaster fired, superheated air burning into the deck at our feet, and with a roar the freed slaves pounced on him.
So much for the subtle approach, I thought, drawing the pirate’s sword as he went down under a pile of limbs. Shouts of alarm came from nearby rooms, others alerted to the escape now, and doors flew open as more pirates leaped into the fray.
“For Arrax,” I shouted, so loud it hurt my throat. “For Arrax, for the captain!”
Others took up the cry as I ran for bridge, the corridor dissolving into a chaotic melee as pirates took both sides. I didn’t stop to see who was winning. All that mattered was that they weren’t united on Zarr’s side, and that meant I still had a chance to get through.
Blaster fire tore through the fight, and smoke filled the air as I ran. I ducked under one guard, stabbed at another, the sword biting into his arm. Not deep enough or accurate enough to take him out of the fight, and his blaster came up towards me.
I tried to knock it aside with my stolen sword, but I moved too slowly. The huge muzzle of the gun loomed in front of me, menacing and lethal.
And then a knife sprouted from the pirate’s throat. Blood sprayed everywhere, he fell backward, his blaster shot missed my head by inches. I glanced back to see Vissa grinning and gesturing for me to go.
That’s another one I owe you, I thought. But I had no time to thank the pilot — not when Arrax still needed me.
I hit the door button and braced myself for what I’d find on the bridge.
22
Arrax
Tension filled the bridge air, and I sat quietly hoping that my guards would relax. Zarr paced, too far fo
r me to reach, and beyond him the shifting colors of the nebula taunted me. Crew came and went, and I marked each face. These were the ones who’d take Zarr’s promise of money over their oath to me as captain, the ones who would sell slaves rather than free them.
Too many. I ground my teeth and tried to control my anger; recruiting pirates had always been a risky proposition, but it looked like near half the crew had taken Zarr’s coin. I’d expected more loyalty than that.
Some were only going along with what they saw as the winning side, of course. Others were keen to ingratiate themselves with Zarr and move up in the ship’s hierarchy. Not many were truly on Zarr’s side. Who would trust a mutineer? But there were still too many of them to fight. Even if I won, I’d cripple the ship doing it — and more likely I’d lose and die.
That didn’t frighten me. I’d made my peace with death years ago the first time I’d stared it down. But if I died there would be no one to protect my beloved Marcie, and that I would not allow.
It took a while for me to notice that something was wrong, but I still saw it before Zarr did. Every ship has a rhythm, a pattern, a feeling that no one can describe. A good captain gets to recognize it, and something was off about the Revenge.
An air leak? Another problem with the engines? No. Something else. I looked around, doing my best not to draw attention and hoping that whatever was wrong, it turned out to be something useful.
There. The engineering control station was unmanned, but the display was still lit up. And a glance at it told me that there’d been a change — the engines were running quieter, generating less power. I frowned, wondering why, and saw that the power draw from the cargo was down too.
Someone had opened the stasis chambers. Someone was letting the slaves out. And no alarm sounded. There were smoke warnings too, and those should have sounded the fire alarm. Instead the red warning light’s blinked in silence. Something was badly wrong.
