Honor's Flight

by Lindsay Buroker

  Alisa yelled, enraged that she had allowed herself to be taken down, that she couldn’t help. Mica had no way to defend against an armored man. Not only was Alisa helpless to do anything, but worse, the major had her pinned. He pulled out a dagger with a serrated blade, and fear surged through her. Would he truly stab her in the chest?

  No, he sawed at the strands wrapped around her—around the satchel. He meant to cut it out and run off with it.

  Growling, Alisa bucked, trying to knock him off her.

  “Stay still, you dumb bitch,” he growled, grabbing her neck with one hand while he kept cutting with the other. “You should have just given it to me, you imperial traitor.”

  “Traitor?” she roared, too furious with her stupidity in getting herself into this to be afraid of the fingers clasped around her throat. “I risked my life to take this. For the Alliance. I’ve always been loyal to the Alliance. I just want my daughter back.”

  Mladenovic kept cutting, his face utterly impassive at her plight.

  A gust of wind came down from above, some ship flying overhead. Alisa did not pay it any attention—she was too busy trying to figure out how to get out of her predicament—until it swooped lower, right over their row of shipping containers. A hatch in the back opened, and people starting firing.

  “Alcyone’s wrath,” the major cursed, looking away from her and toward the sky.

  She finally managed to land a useful blow, driving her knee upward and into his groin. He yowled and rolled away, grabbing his crotch.

  Bullets and blazer bolts slammed into the ground all around them, stealing Alisa’s momentary feeling of satisfaction. She couldn’t get up—the cursed strands were sticking her arms to her torso—so she rolled toward the sturdy wall of the shipping container, hoping it would provide some shelter.

  Wind caused by the blades of a rotary ship whipped her hair free of its braid —and the netting—so that it lashed her in the eyes. No less than four men in black with masks pulled over their faces leaned out of the hatch, shooting at the people on the ground, her people and Mladenovic’s. The snipers seemed to fire without aiming, not caring who they hit.

  Someone cried out. Mladenovic? It was a horrible thought, but Alisa hoped so. Better him than Beck or Mica. Or her.

  A white form lunged in from the side, blocking Alisa’s view of the sky. Beck.

  He grabbed her and slung her over his shoulder, netting and all. She lost sight of the ship and of everything as her face was mashed against his armored back. He took off at a sprint, racing deeper into the rail yard. He fired backward as he ran, alternating between shooting at Mladenovic’s men and shooting at the ship.

  “Mica?” Alisa yelled, not able to see her as she bounced along on Beck’s shoulder.

  “She’s ahead of us,” he blurted, still firing. He raced around a corner and then another one. “There she is,” he added, pumping his legs harder.

  All Alisa could see was his back and the asphalt blurring past underneath them. A boom sounded, rattling the ground and the stacks of shipping containers.

  “What was that?” Alisa asked.

  “Grenade launcher.”

  One of Mladenovic’s men had been carrying that.

  “Were the people on that ship there to get him?” Alisa asked, trying to think even as her brain was rattled by her bumpy ride. Could the imperials have spotted the major skulking about and come after him? If they had, wouldn’t they have come in a military ship and with uniformed men? Those people in black had seemed more like—

  “I don’t think so,” Beck said. “That ship was white with a dragon snout painted on the front.” He kept running as he spoke, weaving through the maze of shipping containers. “They aimed at me first, I think. Then probably fired on the major’s soldiers because they fired at them. I’m not complaining, but we need to get inside somewhere. Hide until they go away.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Alisa said.

  What else could she say? She couldn’t even demand to be set down, not until she figured a way out of the web. What a mess. She still had the orb, for all the good it had done. She didn’t know any more about her daughter’s whereabouts than she had the night before.

  Chapter 12

  “You’ve definitely gotten yourself in a mess, Captain,” Beck said as he carefully cut away the horrible black strands that seemed to stick to every inch of Alisa’s body.

  “I wish I could say that it was the worst mess I’d experienced in the last twenty-four hours, but I think the sewer wins the contest.”

  “Yes,” Mica said, wrinkling her nose.

  They stood together in a family lavatory in the space base, the door locked to keep out others—the concourse had grown increasingly busy as the morning progressed. Mica leaned against a diaper-changing table while examining the remaining explosives in her purse. They were certainly a strange “family.”

  “This is perhaps more humiliating than the previous mess,” Alisa added. “I hate being helpless. And needing to be saved.” Technically, Leonidas had saved her in the sewers too. This was not her day.

  “Aw, I like saving people, Captain. It’s my job.”

  “And I do appreciate that you were quick to do it, but that doesn’t make me feel better about myself.”

  “Well, Captain—” Beck tugged some of the sticky netting off her back, “—that’s not my job. Maybe you could hire a therapist for the crew.”

  “For a crew of three?”

  Alisa arched her eyebrows at Mica, realizing that her entire crew of three was spending time in a family lavatory together. If she hadn’t been in a dour mood, she might have laughed. But she didn’t laugh. Seeing her entire tiny team there only made her realize that nobody she truly trusted was on her ship right now, and that men who were probably in the mood to shoot her right now might be there instead. She hoped Leonidas and Alejandro had run down the ramp to look for her and had been locked out, as she and Mica had planned. She also hoped that, after they had realized they had been locked out, they had taken off looking for her, ideally in the wrong direction.

  Mica waved toward the sink. “You may need to stick your head in water to get that goop out of your hair.”

  “No opinion on the therapist, eh?” Alisa asked.

  As Beck continued to cut the threads away, Alisa grabbed some of the sanitizing gel in the dispenser and rubbed it into her hair, hoping it would break the bonding agent.

  “I’m sure Yumi can give you something if you want to improve your state of mind,” Mica said.

  Alisa smiled bleakly. She had never experimented with drugs, unless one counted the occasional second-hand dosage acquired from walking through the rec room in the dorm at school, but the idea of using something to numb her aching brain—and ego—right now did have some appeal.

  Her eyes ached, too, tired and gritty from lack of sleep. While it might have been wiser to wait a few hours—or a few days—before returning to the ship, she wanted to curl up in her bunk and pass out. She also had the notion that if Alejandro and Leonidas were still aboard, they might react less harshly if she returned the orb of her own free will.

  Just took it out to get some fresh air, boys. You’re welcome…

  “Think that’s as good as I can get with my knife, Captain,” Beck said, stepping back and eyeing her from head to toe. “Might need a woman’s touch to deal with the rest.” He looked at Mica.

  Mica raised a frank eyebrow. “I have paint thinner and a welding torch in engineering.”

  Alisa held up her hand. “I can manage the rest on my own. At least I can walk now.”

  “Might need to run if your cyborg buddy is waiting at the ship for you,” Mica said.

  Alisa picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder, still hoping that Leonidas and Alejandro would be gone when she returned. But maybe it would be better if they weren’t gone. Then they would take back the orb, and that would be the end of her criminal career. If they were not there, she might be tempted to enact that plan s
he had envisioned, of finding the Starseers and trying to trade the orb for her daughter.

  They left the indoor facilities, Alisa’s stomach rumbling as they passed a robot vendor selling freshly baked cinnamon stars, frosting dribbling from their points. Reluctantly, she reminded herself that she had cereal in the ship. Too bad money was in short supply. The pastries smelled fabulous.

  She did veer off the path briefly when she spotted an ambulatory vending machine selling chocolate bars. They weren’t the high-quality bars that she preferred, but her stash was low, and if she had to take off soon, she might not get a chance to resupply. There was no way she would risk going into deep space without chocolate.

  The vending machine stopped as soon as it detected her interest, swiveling on its wheels to turn its wares toward her. She waved her chip card at its sensor before remembering that her bank account seemed to have disappeared.

  “Funds inaccessible,” the vendor announced brightly. “Physical cash or barter?”

  Surprised it accepted physical coin, Alisa dug into her pocket, glad she had made Yumi and Alejandro pay her that way. A twinge of guilt ran through her as she wrapped her hand around a couple of the coins, realizing that Alejandro surely hadn’t expected her to steal his belongings when he’d paid her for passage.

  “Barter?” Mica asked.

  “The team at Vendomatic Satisfaction is collecting raw materials and valuable items for the rebuilding of Perun. If you have such items, please place them on my tray for consideration. I am programmed to analyze them and offer a fair trade.”

  Mica plucked off some of the sticky strands still wrapped around Alisa’s sleeves and back.

  “I’m sure that’s not what it has in mind for raw materials,” Alisa said as Mica wadded them up and wiped them on the tray.

  “I’m out of metals and plastics.”

  The vending machine sucked in its tray and hummed to itself. A scraping came from within it, and Alisa imagined the machine trying to figure out a way to dispose of the sticky strands.

  “0.57 morats in credit,” it announced, and lights flashed inside its case, signifying the items she could purchase.

  “Huh,” Alisa said.

  “If you let me work on your legs, you might be able to get a bottle of FizzBurst too.”

  Alisa tapped the display in front of the chocolate she had been eyeing. “No, thanks. That stuff tastes like lemon-flavored takka, and I’d never get to sleep.”

  “Do you really want to sleep when an irate cyborg is after you?”

  Alisa sighed, accepting the chocolate and heading for the door. She wished she could deny that anyone might be after her, but the bag weighed heavily against her hip as she stepped outside.

  The sea air smelled of rain, and storm clouds lurked over the harbor. That did not keep people from busily streaming along the concourses, on their way to and from ships. Alisa watched the passersby for familiar faces. Beck, walking behind her and Mica, was doing the same thing, though he was surely watching for White Dragon representatives instead of Leonidas and Alejandro.

  “Any idea how you can buy them off, Beck?” Alisa asked.

  “Who? The mafia?”

  “Yes. Surely, they have some price that they would consider acceptable.”

  “My life,” he said glumly. “That’s the price they have in mind.”

  “It must be costing them a lot of resources to keep sending people after you. Maybe you could bargain with them.”

  “I doubt they’ll accept a wad of sticky webbing. As I told you before, if I could turn in a certain cyborg for an extremely handsome reward, I might have enough to pay them off.”

  Alisa grimaced, wishing she hadn’t brought the subject up again. It just seemed that they ought to be able to come up with a way to get Beck out of his trouble. A way that did not involve betraying anyone else.

  “He’s too dangerous,” Alisa said. “Got any other ideas?”

  “If I could make it big with my sauce line, maybe I could eventually make enough money, but that’ll take years, especially since I’m not able to actively work on it now. I don’t have anything else of value.”

  Beck glanced toward Alisa’s bag, but did not suggest that she give him the orb to trade. She was not surprised the idea crossed his mind. Who wouldn’t be tempted by a little theft in order to get out of trouble?

  “You’re welcome to work on your project in your spare time on the ship,” Alisa said as they stepped onto the moving walkway that would take them to the Star Nomad’s berth.

  “Making sauces?”

  “The mess kitchen is a good size.”

  “The appliances don’t work, the utensils are rusty, and there were cockroaches nesting in the stock pot when I first came aboard.”

  “My kitchen has a stock pot? Huh.”

  Beck gave her a sour look.

  “At least the price is right. You would have to pay to rent a commercial kitchen.”

  “I suppose. When are we leaving? Maybe I could take my wages and order some ingredients for the next stage of our trip.”

  “Leaving might be difficult,” Mica said, pointing toward Dock 87, where the Nomad rested at the end of a concrete pier.

  The ramp was down, with the hatch open and Yumi standing at the top of it. Leonidas stood at the bottom wearing his crimson combat armor, all save the helmet, which rested under his arm. That meant Alisa had no trouble seeing the fearsome expression on his face as his gaze locked onto her. It was much different from the calm face he’d had in sickbay, looking almost innocuous as Alejandro tended his wounds. Now he looked like… an enemy.

  Alisa did her best not to squirm as the moving sidewalk took her closer. His hard gaze never left her face. His mouth moved as he spoke, probably to his earstar rather than to Yumi, who was tinkering on her netdisc. Three suns, she wasn’t holding the door open for him, was she? To ensure he wasn’t locked out? Maybe he had figured out the problem and had forced her to do so, though she appeared calm as she poked at a holodisplay, not under any duress.

  “It’s not too late to turn around and run the other way, Captain,” Beck observed, apparently also the recipient of Leonidas’s flinty gaze.

  Alisa sighed. “Yes, it is.”

  She had seen Leonidas run. He could catch them easily.

  As Alisa stepped off the sidewalk and headed down the pier toward their ramp, she glimpsed Alejandro running toward them from farther up the concourse, pushing past people as he raced the wrong way on the moving sidewalk. His expression was more panicked than flinty, and she shrank within herself, feeling guiltier than ever for taking his artifact. Even if it wasn’t his and had only been lent to him on behalf of the empire. She imagined how she would have felt if something of such value had been taken from her. Hells, she felt that way now, about Jelena.

  She reached Leonidas first, who, thankfully, was not pointing any weapons at her. Not that he needed a weapon to strangle someone. She removed her shopping bag and offered it to him—Alejandro was still running in their direction, his robe flapping around his ankles.

  “Couldn’t get the price you wanted?” Leonidas asked coldly.

  “That’s… more accurate than you know. Here, take it.” Alisa tossed the bag to him and took a step toward the ramp, not wanting a lecture from him or from Alejandro.

  Leonidas caught the bag, but he also caught her arm, his steel grip keeping her from escaping into the ship.

  “If you make a habit of stealing from your passengers—”

  “I don’t.” She tugged at her arm, though she well knew that she wouldn’t get it back unless he let go.

  Beck stepped forward, though hesitantly. He did not want to tangle with Leonidas, and she could not blame him.

  “Don’t let her go,” Alejandro blurted, racing down the pier toward the ramp. “We’ll turn her in to the army headquarters here in town. They can question her, find out what she’s told the Alliance.”

  Alisa spun toward him, as much as she could with Leonidas h
olding her arm. “Look, I brought it back. I haven’t told anyone anything. You’re passengers on my ship, my guests. You don’t get to turn me in to anyone.”

  Beck intercepted Alejandro before he could run up the ramp, catching him by the arm.

  “You brought it back,” Leonidas snarled. “That makes it acceptable that you snuck into the doctor’s cabin and stole it out from under him while he slept?”

  “I didn’t have a choice, all right?” She yanked at her arm again, hating the disappointed look that he turned on her. “Get off me, mech.”

  It was the wrong time to use that derisive term, and she knew it as soon as his blue eyes clouded over, as stormy as the sky above the harbor. She didn’t care. Panic swelled in her breast as she imagined them carting her off to some imperial interrogation headquarters.

  “Yes, I’m sure someone made you steal it,” Alejandro said. “While aboard your own ship, a ship you could simply fly away in at any point. We can play the cameras, but I highly doubt armed men stomped onto the craft and held guns to your head and told you to take it.” He tried to yank his arm away from Beck, but with his combat armor, Beck was just as immovable as Leonidas.

  “Mladenovic said he knew where my daughter is, damn it,” Alisa growled. “I don’t have any other leads. I had to do it, all right? But he lied. Just like everyone on this damned planet lies. He’s probably been brainwashed into being an asshole by too much time down here in the empire.” She scowled fiercely at Leonidas and Alejandro, the scowl of the righteous. The scowl of the wronged. Or the wrong. She was being defensive because they had a case, and she knew it, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to get out of this hole and find her daughter. “Beck, let him go. You two don’t like how things work on my ship, then get off. Maybe you shouldn’t have lingered here so long. It’s not a suns-damned hotel.”

  To her surprise, this time when she tried to yank her arm away, Leonidas let her go. She almost fell on her ass. She flailed her arms and kept from toppling, then spun and stalked up the ramp. Yumi was watching it all, her mouth open, her eyes wide.