allies and enemies 02 - rogues (16 page)

Finally, Erelah blinked. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t me. That was
him
.”

“
Who
him?”

Schizoaffective? Or some type of personality disorder maybe?

“The guard. Renlo.” Erelah’s face churned. “Don’t look at me like that. Sometimes they’re too strong and I can’t push them away.”

“We don’t have time for this,” Asher snarled, muscling Rachel aside. His moves were surprisingly tender as he placed his hands on the girl’s upper arms. “None of that right now. Need that brainbox of yours, yes?”

The girl swallowed. She wrenched free of Korbyn’s hands and pushed herself up.

“The power…the junction for this section must have been severed,” Erelah panted. She wedged herself in front of Korbyn to examine the darkened screen.

“You can fix it, can’t you?” Rachel watched her prod at the buttons in the keypad.

Her gaze went unfocused again. “I can fix it. The guard. He knows…knew. I saw the bypasses.”

Korbyn grabbed her by the lapels of her flightsuit. “Where?”

She waved a hand over her shoulder. “The junction we just passed.”

“Let’s go.” Korbyn herded Erelah back into the middle of the corridor.

“Wait a sec. Look at her. She can hardly stand. And she’s having some sort of…breakdown,” Rachel called.

What else would you call it when you claimed to have problems with someone else’s memories?

The girl wilted against Korbyn. “I’m fine.”

Korbyn said, rushed, “See? She’s splendid.”

He jerked his chin at Rachel. Reaching behind the small of his back, he withdrew the gun he had taken from the guard. He paused before shoving it into her hand. “Stay here. Shoot anyone that’s not us.”

Rachel held the proffered weapon as if he had just handed her a dead badger.

“Wait up!” She lofted the weapon. Both Korbyn and the girl flinched. “How do I use this…ray gun? I’ve never shot anything in my life.”

He blew out a plosive breath and leaned in.

“Aim this end at the person that wants to kill you,” he spouted, pointing at where the barrel would be if it were a legit gun. Instead of a neat round hole for bullets, there was a rectangular opening covered in a mesh screen. A protrusion near the grip could only be a trigger. “Prime here when the light turns red.”

He strode away, pulling Erelah in his wake. The dim corridor swallowed their shapes.

“How long does it take for the light to go red?” Rachel called after them.

Korbyn’s voice echoed back: “I don’t know. It’s not my gun.”

Rachel regarded the weapon in her hand.

Okay. You can do this. Just stand around and look like a badass.

The minutes ticked by.

The shrill screech of the proximity beacon abruptly ended. The silence that followed was somehow worse.

Now there was only the periodic groan of metal on metal. A decidedly unhealthy sound. The deck bucked. The rumble was loud and its explosive source seemed closer. The jamb collided with Rachel’s collarbone. The gun clattered to the deck. Even as she bent down to reach it, she sensed someone’s approach. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck rose.

Rachel snatched the gun up, bringing it around.

“Well. This is a lovely surprise, Rachel.” Neesa stepped from the shadows, wearing her very best predatory smile.

32

Erelah took one ragged step after another, disheartened that the hall stretched on forever. Using the Sight on the guard had been a gamble and she was now paying the price. Ever since touching Korbyn, what little command she had on it was uncertain. Her lungs felt as if they would pop and her heart would explode. Her feet tangled and she collided with Korbyn.

He righted her. It had somehow become his job. “Well?”

Her gaze traced the yellow conduit along the ceiling. It ended abruptly at the junction box painted in the same color. She pointed. “There!”

Korbyn stood under it. “Tell me what to do.”

Erelah collapsed against the wall “The larger conduit line, the yellow one. We disconnect it from the junction box.”

Her heart sank. The box was thick metal covered with a thin patina of corrosion. This further supported her suspicion that this was the remnants of a Citadel class carrier, a nearly century-old vessel. The layout and size were consistent.

“We’ll need a spanner to get the cover off.” Erelah climbed back up the wall to stand. “Is there a—”

In one frustrated swipe, Korbyn wrenched the cover from the box, the welded rivets popping loose like buttons from a shirt.

“Or you can just do that.”

“Now what?” He cast the cover to the floor with a violent clatter.

She studied the nest of snaking wires and grinned with relief. This would go quickly. The deck gave another evil lurch. This time it was not her. It really was the ship.

Something very heavy seemed to give way on the deck above. The sensation was more felt than heard. It was too slow to be an explosion, but the resulting protest of metal made it no less dire. There was a ferocious pop. Korbyn grabbed her, folding over her as a spray of sparks rained down from the ravaged conduit box.

“You could have done this without me.” Erelah pulled away from him. “You knew what to do already.”

Korbyn did not answer, rigid with concentration as he worked overhead.

“Why would you—”

“Safest place for you right now is with me.”

Erelah watched him complete the bypass. “I don’t know which face of yours to trust.”

“I could say the same thing…
Tilley.
”

She flinched. “Erelah. My real name is Erelah.”

“I know.” He held his hand out to her. And she took it. “I like it better.”

Yet even as Erelah took a step toward the hallway, Korbyn raised an arm, barring the way. She drew in breath to speak. He held a finger to his lips. She followed his gaze.

A Zenti guard sprinted into the intersection, out of breath. The man cast a frightened glance over his shoulder from the direction he’d just come. He was not hunting them; his frantic movements suggested he was the prey.

Korbyn pushed her into the bulkhead behind him.

The Zenti turned, opened fire into corridor behind him.

That violent explosion. The ship had been boarded.

If the
Noble
was a citadel class, this enemy of Ix must be powerful indeed.

Angry voices barked from the far end of the corridor. It was a language she could not recognize, but the tone and emotion were there. They were commands, orders.

The Zenti released another volley.

This time there was return fire.

No bolts of energy or streaks of yellow light from pulse or plasma weapons. A series of bloody pops erupted from the Zenti’s chest. Dark blood spattered the wall behind him. He crumpled. A final shot erupted in his thick brow. He fell to the deck, eyes flat and fixed on death.

A rumble against the deck announced the approach of several more people. Their alien voices echoed against the walls. From her hiding spot, she glimpsed it in snippets: dark-clad figures, uniformly dressed. A profile of an unremarkable face. A hand with four fingers and a thumb moving down to check the falling Zenti. The soldier crouched over the body could have been Eugenes.

But he wasn’t. She
knew
it—the Sight sensed it—implicitly. The invaders were Humans.

Asher shoved her back. “Go. Back the other way.”

“Who are they?” she asked as loudly as she dared.

“Don’t know. Don’t care.”

“But they might help us.”

“That’s not what help looks like, sister.” He prodded her along. “Move now.”

33

I’m not cut out for this shit.

Rachel slid her attention from Neesa long enough to check the hallway. No sign of Korbyn or the girl. For all she knew they’d found some other way off the ship and left her standing there like a chump.

That’d be about my luck.

There was a series of loud pops. She started. It had
sounded
like a Human weapon. Weird.

Neesa took this as an opportunity to step closer.

“I’m not kidding.” Rachel raised the pulse gun.

“Oh, I don’t question your sincerity.” For someone held at gunpoint, Neesa seemed pretty damn cocky. “But your intelligence, yes. You’re foolish to trust Korbyn…or whatever he’s calling himself these days. I made that mistake once.”

Or whatever he’s calling himself…

Rachel righted her aim at the center of the woman’s chest and hoped she looked determined enough to fire the weapon. So far, she wasn’t feeling heroic.
You’d think that spending this much time with gangsters, being a badass would have rubbed off on me.

She could not bring herself to shoot an unarmed person, even someone like Neesa. The creature was a liar and an opportunist. And she had done some pretty mean-spirited things to Rachel during her captivity, but none of them worthy of murder.

Neesa took a step forward, her moves elegant, smooth, as though she had all the time in the world. In the distance, another siren raged into life.

“That’s close enough.” Rachel hated the tremor in her voice.

“Sounds like the main bay has been breeched. The ship will lose air soon. Won’t that be interesting?” Neesa took another step forward. “And you’ll have to make a choice.”

Rachel backed up. Now she was in the alcove, the hatchway to the yacht at her back.

There was a grinding noise. Suddenly the lights in the alcove flickered to life. A muted series of beeps came from the door lock interface by her left elbow. The power to the door was back on.

Oh, thank Jesus.

Neesa’s smile broadened. “He kept his word. For Korbyn,
that’s
extraordinary.”

Then Neesa rushed her.

Rachel’s finger moved on reflex. The gun made a strange purring rattle. Neesa bent forward at the waist, clasping her middle.

“Oh shit.” Rachel lunged to catch her.

Neesa’s hands flew up, twisting the weapon from her grip. With a giggle, she lofted the gun in mock astonishment. “Well. Look at that! The safety
was
engaged. I do believe you would have shot me. Perhaps you had the nerve after all.”

Great.
Rachel backed fully against the hatch now.

Neesa changed the position of the weapon in her hand, triggering something. The pulse gun made a whine that reminded her of the dispelling charge of a flash battery. “
Now
the safety’s off.”

“Give it back. I’ll try it again.”

“I think not.” Neesa leveled the weapon on her.

Rachel shut her eyes and turned her head.
This is going to suck
.

The was a muffled grunt, the sound of bodies colliding. Rachel opened her eyes. Neesa was gone.

Erelah stood in her place: “Rachel, are you alright?”

Rachel did a quick check and found she wasn’t sporting any new holes. She nodded, unsure of her voice.

Korbyn crouched over Neesa. She pitched up on all fours, shoulders bunched, face pulled into a snarl.

“This is all your fault!” Her hands hooked into claws. The hatred nearly radiated off her. She lunged to her feet, pulling up sharply as he trained the pulse gun on her.

He spoke over his shoulder. “The key code should work now. Get it primed. Skip pre-flight.”

Erelah darted back into the alcove. Rachel watched her trembling fingers input the combination.

Please work. Please work
.

The hatch snicked open. A cool blast swirled around her ankles. Air cyclers hissed to life as the internal lights flickered on. Erelah activated the inner hatch. The girl dove inside, leaning like a drunk along the walls as she headed presumably to the cockpit.

Rachel turned back to Korbyn. She could see only the back of his shaved head as he stood over Neesa. His shoulders were tense lines. Cautiously, Rachel tugged at his duster. “Hey, guy. Come on. Let’s go.”

“The girl will be your ruin. Both of you,” Neesa hissed. Those unsettling maroon eyes fixed on Rachel.

What the hell is
that
supposed to mean?

Neesa climbed to her feet. The weapon in Korbyn’s hands now pressed against the center of her chest. “Do it. You know you want to, lover. I’m as good as dead anyway.”

Lover?

It made sense now. This wasn’t Neesa’s usual garden-variety hatred. This was personal.

“Hey, come on. Let’s go,” Rachel called. He wasn’t going to kill an unarmed woman, was he? Neesa was a dangerous class-A bitch, but…they’d won. They could leave.

His answer was a low growl. “Get inside the ship. Now.”

“What’re you going to do?”

His attention still on Neesa, Korbyn pivoted enough to shove her into the hatch. “Go!”

Rachel’s feet caught on the raised lip along the deck. The jamb colliding with her ribs and the med kit took the rest of her weight. She winced at the muted cracking sound from inside it.

From without came the sound of a pulse round. Then the exterior hatch cycled shut and Korbyn stepped over her, hurriedly tucking something away into his pocket. From his glare, she wasn’t meant to see that.

The muscle of his jaw clenched. She was very much aware of the weapon still in his hand.

He pulled her to her feet.

“Hatch can’t close. You’re in the way.”

Rachel leaned as far away from him as she could in the tight space. He plowed deeper into the ship, headed in Erelah’s direction.

34

Erelah forced her breathing to a controlled pant as she reached the cockpit. The yacht was a first generation cesium-fueled vessel. The configuration differed greatly from the
Jennali Noble
. The scale of everything seemed built for giants. The console was oversized, archaic. The pilot’s chair was so large she had to sit forward on the very edge for her toes to touch the deck.

The important panels were sloppily labeled in Commonspeak. She had to guess which one actually stirred the cesium tanks. There was no HUD. Someone had retro-engineered an older vid feed to function as one.