by Rachel Aukes
She frowned. “So far, they’ve only targeted the lone marshals, not the ones working with partners or crews.”
“So far, that seems to be the case, which fortunately is a small subset of marshals.”
“How many marshals fly solo?” she asked.
“Twenty-nine.”
“Just recall the solo fliers. Then the rest of us can track down East and the Jaders.”
“No. If East is going after some of my marshals, it’s reasonable to believe that she’s going to go after all my marshals.”
Throttle grimaced. The idea of being stuck at Free Station while Anna East was up to something made her antsy for action. “When will everyone be back for lockdown?”
“Everyone is expected to be back within three days.”
“Let me go down to Hiraeth. I’ll talk to Baron Stolypin at Canaan. If anyone outside the pirate network has an ear to where East is hiding, it’d be him. I can be down there and back here within two days.”
His brow furrowed. “Can’t you talk to him via a comm channel?”
She shook her head. “He’ll never talk over an open comm channel. He’ll only talk to me in person. It’ll be a quick round trip. You said it yourself, right now they’re not targeting marshals with crews.”
“That’s not an assumption I’m comfortable staking multiple lives on.”
Throttle lifted her jaw. “Let me see what I can find out. Maybe I can get us information that prevents more disappearances.”
Chief rubbed the black and gray stubble on his chin as he thought for a length. “If it was anywhere other than Hiraeth, I wouldn’t let you go, but since we orbit Hiraeth, I’ll sanction the trip.” He held up a finger. “But return here as soon as possible. In my thirty years as chief of the Ross system, I’ve never had one marshal go offline, and now I’ve had three disappear in under one week.”
Throttle stood. “I’ll let you know what I find out.”
“Be careful,” he said.
“I always am,” she said and left his office.
By the time Throttle returned to the dock, she found a flurry of activity around a ship arriving at Free Station. She caught a dock specialist’s attention, who was rushing down the hallway. “What’s going on?” she asked.
The specialist motioned to the end of the dock. “One of the marshals who disappeared has returned. Well, at least her ship has. Marshal Mercier hasn’t engaged dock control yet.”
Throttle nodded toward where the flurry of activity was taking place. There were more armed guards than there were dock specialists. She frowned. “Expecting trouble?”
“Nah. Just standard operating procedure when any GP docks without first notifying the comm center,” he answered. “Excuse me, but I have to go help dock her ship. It looks like it sustained some damage on her way here.”
As the specialist took off, Throttle eyed the ship, wondering if the marshal was still alive or if the ship had returned on autopilot. Her curiosity niggled, and she wanted it satiated, but she turned and headed back to the Javelin. Chief would fill her in later.
After all, Anna East was hunting marshals, and Throttle would do everything in her power to stop it from happening again.
Chapter Five
Anna East lounged in the environmental pod that she’d had installed in the massive seed ship. While the nearby rooms where the pirate crews stayed were all environmentally operational, she refused to leave her pod. It was bad enough being stuck on board a ship with minimal comforts for a week, she couldn’t imagine having to be confined in the same room as her employees for more than a few minutes, let alone days. Such an action would likely give some of them the idea that it was okay to speak to superiors as equals, and much of her power had been established by making others believe that she was truly above them.
The boredom of being cooped up in a ten-foot-by-ten-foot pod had driven her to take sleeping pills to pass the time. The pills had helped immensely until she ran out on the fourth day. When her communication panel chimed, she practically jumped out of her chair.
She accepted the video call and found herself looking at the handsome visage of Skully Pete.
He gave her his crooked smile. “Hello, darlin’.”
Relief filled her. “Tell me that everything’s on track and that I can leave this numbing pod soon.”
“Very soon now. Your ship is in position. All the crews except mine have entered the space bridge. My crew will be your personal bodyguards and escort you safely through the station as soon as the lead crews clear the way. If all goes according to plan, you’ll have complete control of Free Station within the hour.”
Her smile grew wide. “I can assume that the chief and all the marshals are on the station as well?”
“I have it on good authority that Chief is on board. He recalled all marshals to Free Station, but there are still several who haven’t made it back yet. Some are still on assignment; others still on their way.”
“I’ll be satisfied as long as Throttle Reyne and her crew are here when I’m ready to leave Free Station.”
“She will be. As I said, Chief recalled all marshals, exactly as we’d planned,” he said.
Her gaze narrowed. “You’d better not disappoint me, Pete.”
His face hardened. “She’ll be here, just like all the other marshals who are still off-station. They’ll have no idea that we have the station until they dock, and then it’ll be too late.”
Chapter Six
Chief Cormac Roux ran his fingers over the computer panel and pulled up the live video feed in the docking bay. Through the first camera, he saw Throttle and Finn boarding their renovated relic that had technology more advanced than Chief would’ve expected for a ship its age. It was from the era when nations raced to create artificial intelligence, before humanity had determined the longevity of their species was better off without it, and he suspected the Javelin was one of those one-off ships that had been built with intelligence in mind but, like all others of that era, was destined to fail.
But he hadn’t pulled up the feed to watch Marshals Reyne and Martin depart.
He moved to the next camera, where a battered ship had docked. Dents and gouges along the hull told him that she’d scraped against something that had a thicker hull than hers. He wouldn’t have been surprised if the hull had been breached, and the ship was returning a corpse.
The marshal hadn’t called in from her ship or through her Atlas chip, so he could only hope that more than her ELT was offline, making it impossible to communicate, rather than the alternative that she was no longer alive.
The marshal emerged from her ship and stepped through the airlock and onto the dock. Relief flooded Chief and he let out a sigh. He leaned back, feeling like a heavy weight had been lifted. At least one of his missing marshals was alive. He now bore hope for the other two.
The marshals serving as Free Station’s security detail lowered their weapons as soon as they saw Caterine Mercier. One of the marshals shook her hand, and another patted her on the back. She didn’t tarry with her fellow marshals and instead looked straight up at the camera and gave a small nod. A corner of Chief’s lips curled upward even though she couldn’t see him. He continued watching her as she headed down the hallway and to a lift. She seemed uninjured, but she walked with a stiffness that he was not used to seeing in the svelte woman.
When she entered the lift, he didn’t bother switching camera views to watch her. She would be headed straight for his office. He stood and stepped out of his office and into the foyer to meet her at the elevator.
When she emerged from the elevator, he walked up to her, smiled, and cupped her hand in both of his. “Cat, I can’t tell you how good it is to see you alive and well.”
“Thank you, Chief,” she said.
“We have a lot to talk about, so we’d better get started on your debrief.” He motioned her to his office, and he shut the door behind them.
“From the looks of your ship, you’ve been through a r
ough patch.”
“You could certainly say that,” she said, then added, “It was a gang of hoodlums who thought a single pilot with no crew was easy pickings for loot.”
Chief cocked his head and gave a sly grin as he took a seat behind his desk. “I have no doubt you showed them the error of their ways.”
“That I did. Though, I’m ashamed to admit they did catch me off guard.”
He eyed her for a moment. “You don’t seem your usual self. You’re usually more…”
“Carefree?” she offered.
“Confident,” he corrected. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d say something had you spooked. What happened out there?”
Her lips thinned and she gave a small smile as she began to peruse the bookshelves that lined the wall. He gave her several moments since he’d never known Cat to be at a loss for words.
After what he determined to be a sufficient length of time, he spoke. “Talk to me, Cat.”
She waved him off. “Oh, I’m just upset at myself for not noticing them before they attacked. I was sloppy.”
His gaze narrowed as he scrutinized her. He posed his next question softly. “Did they hurt you, Cat?”
She turned to face him and then gave him another false smile. “No, Chief. They didn’t hurt me. I fled as soon as I realized I was outgunned.”
When she didn’t elaborate, he let out a sigh. “I need you to talk to me, Cat. You’ve been offline for a week. Two other marshals have gone offline since then. I need to know what’s putting my people in danger.”
“Two?” She seemed surprised before her features quickly smoothed. “They hit me with an EMP, Chief. It knocked out my ELT and my Atlas implant, so I couldn’t connect with Atlas to make contact. I flew back here with no eyes and ears.”
He frowned. “You were on your ship when they attacked, correct?”
“Yes, why?”
Electromagnetic pulses—both artificial and natural—were one of the more common problems across space, and most ships had shielding against minor pulses that were routinely sent out from stars. If an EMP was big enough to take out one system, it was big enough to wipe out all the electronics on a ship. He spoke calmly. “The EMP blew your personal comms but not your ship’s comms?”
She stared blankly.
“The EMP obviously didn’t blow your ship’s grid. Otherwise, you never would’ve been able to fly back here,” he clarified.
Her gaze darted around as she inhaled and looked back at him. “Well, I suppose it must’ve been a short-burst EMP, not powerful enough to break through my ship’s shielding.”
“I suppose that’s what it was.” She was lying to him; of that, he had no doubt. He pressed a hidden button on the side of his desk near his knee as he pushed back in his chair.
Thirty seconds.
“They hit you with an EMP, and then what happened?” Chief asked.
She took a breath and seemed to shrug. “I escaped and returned to Free Station.”
He raised a brow. “You were offline for a week. You know emergency protocols. Why didn’t you find a way to contact Free Station?”
“Because—oh, the hell with it.” She raised her hand. In it, he saw a glimpse of black.
Chief whipped out his blaster from its holster and fired before he was up to his feet.
There was a flash before everything went dark. Cat cried out and he heard a thud.
The room’s emergency lights flickered to life.
Cat was lying on the floor, a hand clutching her stomach where his shot had left a charred hole. The device she’d held a moment earlier lay a couple of feet away. He recognized it immediately.
Scowling, he looked at the now-blank panel on his desk and tried to access Atlas through his implant.
Everything was blank.
She’d fired a micro-EMP.
He walked over to her where she lay in pain.
“You should’ve killed me,” she said through gritted teeth.
He holstered his blaster and came down on a knee beside her. “I did. You only have an hour left at most. More than enough time for you to say what you have to say,” he replied softly as he relieved her of her weapons. “Why’d you do it, Cat?”
She winced and let her head fall back to the floor. “I had no choice.”
“You always have a choice, Marshal.”
A half-dozen marshals poured into his office right at thirty seconds. He waved them back and maintained his position over Cat.
“What happened that caused you to forsake your oath and betray your comrades, Cat?” Chief asked.
Her breathing was becoming more labored. She had far less than an hour left. Likely no more than a few minutes.
She swallowed and winced. “He has Sophia. He said he’d kill her if I didn’t do as he said.”
He thought for the briefest moment as he placed the name. “Your niece.”
She clenched her eyes closed.
“Who has her, Cat? Who has Sophia?”
Her already tight features seemed to nearly convulse like saying the name would make her vomit. She opened her eyes and practically spit out the name. “Pete.”
Chief’s posture stuttered. “Pete? As in Marshal Peter Antonov?”
She gave a weak nod. “He said he’d release her as soon as I set off the EMP.” She reached out and grabbed his hand. “Please, you have to make sure Sophia’s safe.”
Chief kept his face from showing disbelief that Cat would be so naïve to trust a blackmailer. The child was probably dead already. He swallowed back his emotions. “I’ll do my best. You have my word.”
Peace seemed to blanket her. “Thank you.”
“Did Pete say how’d he know when the EMP went off?” he asked.
She moved her head from side to side and seemed to fade.
Pete was either nearby, or he had someone else on Free Station. His brow furrowed as he thought about the EMP device. It was small and couldn’t have knocked out more than fifty feet in all directions.
His features grew lax as a cold chill washed over him. He realized he wasn’t the target. The central communications center was directly above his office, and all of the video feeds across Free Station went into that comm room.
They were blind.
Frantic, he grabbed Cat. “How many came with you?”
She groaned but didn’t open her eyes.
He shook her harder. “Cat! Talk to me.”
Her body had gone limp.
Chief frowned. If the EMP had knocked the comm center offline, the specialists managing the room should’ve activated the alarms. That they hadn’t concerned him. He jumped to his feet and turned to the marshals. “She wasn’t alone. Clinton, I need one of you to come with me to the comm center. The rest of you activate all patrols. Cat set off a micro-EMP that blew out all the electronics across a small radius from this spot. That means the comm center’s likely been hit, which means we’ve lost our video feeds until the comm specs reboot the system. Anyone caught in the EMP blast would’ve lost their Atlas chips, so some of you will have to communicate the old-fashioned way. Someone wants us blind, and we need to see why.”
“Yes, sir.” The senior marshal nodded to one of his team and gave several commands to them before he turned back to Chief. “I assume we have authority for lethal force?”
“You have full and unequivocal authority to use lethal force,” Chief said in a clear, straightforward voice.
The marshal nodded and took off with four of his team through the foyer and to the stairwell where they’d propped the door open with a chair.
One lone marshal remained with Chief.
“I’m Marshal Hettinger, sir. Whatever you need, I’m your guy,” he said as Chief walked around his desk and grabbed a rifle.
Chief met the young man near the doorway. “I remember you quite well, Dean. It’s been, what, nearly two years since you earned your badge?”
The marshal stood even taller. “Yes, sir. All of it spent right here on Free
Station.”
“Good. Dean, we’re going up one level to the comm center. Until we get video feeds, we don’t know how deep Free Station’s been infiltrated. We may have to fight our way through.”
Hettinger nodded and held his rifle closer to his chest. “I’m ready whenever you are, sir.”
Chief took the lead, holding his rifle at the ready, through the foyer and to the stairwell. He paused to listen for any sounds of movement. When he heard the solid thuds of bootsteps, he stepped back and turned to the lift that had been made inoperative by the EMP. Working together, they pried open the door.
Chief listened again. This time, he heard no sound. He stepped out to the side of the lift to where a low-gravity pole ran the entire height of the station. He slung his rifle, wrapped himself around the pole, and pulled himself up one level. The marshal followed.
Chief put his ear against the door. When he heard nothing, the pair pried open the door. Chief stepped out as soon as he could squeeze through the opening. The hallway was empty. It shouldn’t have been. It should’ve been flocking with specialists rushing to return things to normal. By then, alarms should’ve gone off throughout Free Station, and all GP employees would be expected to activate emergency procedures.
As he approached the sealed door to the comm center, he understood why the alarms never sounded. Through the double-plated door were three communication specialists. Two lay slumped over their panels, with blackened blaster shots through their heads. The third specialist sat at his panel, absorbed by whatever task he was working on.
Chief bit the inside of his lip as he stepped up to the door and knocked.
The comm specialist jumped and spun in his chair.
Chief recognized the faces of all the Galactic Peacekeepers in the Ross system. This man’s face wasn’t one of them. The intruder, first surprised, then sneered as his gaze went around the door. He turned back to his panel.
Chief inhaled and took a step back.
“This door looks too heavy to pry open, and there’s no way our blasters can burn a hole through it,” the marshal said.
