allies and enemies 02 - rogues (23 page)

In the metal surface of the storage compartments, Asher saw the dim reflection of the remaining guard. The man’s attention darted between the door and the coms device strapped to his forearm. There was something worse still going on here. And it had to do with Northway’s improvised device.

The true crisis wasn’t in here. It was somewhere out there. With Erelah.

“Don’t you realize who they have summoned here?” Ulrid jabbed a finger at the hub. The surface was presenting proximity reads. It displayed an estimated landing trajectory for a ship of unknown design.

Summoned?

“I honestly have no idea.” He never thought Northway clever enough to pull off such a thing. It meant Erelah had helped her.

“Ulrid, who the Sceelah did they signal?” Asher threw his hands wide. “I’ve been out in the deep black for nearly two years.”

“The Humans.” The bleakness in his tone told it all. There was a dread connected to it. They were a threat, worthy of his reaction and his concern. “They wiped out an entire Sceeloid outpost in the Thermalyea Fray. Humans claimed it as their prize.”

Asher frowned, incredulous. How had he not heard of this? Even on the run in the
Mercy
, this was news that should have reached them.

“Their ships are swifter than any of our velos. They hail no quarter. Demand no tithes. Simply take what they want. Some say they act in vengeance for how the Sceeloid treated their ancestors, the Palari.” Ulrid planted his hands on the surface of the hub. The blue-green glow of its surface made the ravages of age on his face look that much more pronounced. “And now they have come here.”

“Sir. There are hostiles on approach to the complex.”
The vox echoed from the hub.
“Orders?”

Ulrid jabbed at the vox interface. His stare, hot with rage, fixed on Asher as he ordered: “Avoid engaging them. Be certain the two females are secured. They’re the true targets.”

He turned on Asher. “You bring everyone ruin.”

51

Another guard had left after a terse exchange with Brilta. No explanation given. No announcement. A moment later metal shutters rolled closed over the exterior of the long window of the room. Brilta now checked and rechecked the immense rifle across her chest like a compulsive habit. From here, Erelah could see the red primed ready light.

“Do it. Now.” Rachel pointed over her shoulder at Brilta. “While she’s distracted.”

Erelah stiffened, shook her head. “I won’t. I refuse.”

“What? Why not?”

“She’s no harm to us. It wouldn’t be right.”

The towering woman was as simple as a thumb. It probably would never occur to her to be cruel. She followed orders and wanted only praise like some eager child, especially from Selto. Yet Rachel did not know what she asked by using the Sight on Brilta. As if a sight-jack were a simple conjurer’s trick to perform for the delight of children.

Rachel did not understand what she asked.

“Something’s going down. You don’t think that hack to the scanner worked already, do you?” Rachel gasped her elbow. “That’s the second time a guard has come and gone. This is might be our only chance to get out of here, while they’re this distracted.”

Erelah looked at the floor but saw nothing of interest. She frowned at Rachel in confusion.

“It’s an expression,” the doctor huffed, rolling her eyes.

“The worst place for us to be would be out in the corridors.” Erelah kept her voice low. “They are trained Guild soldiers, not like the men that Ix employed. Their vigilance will be considerable.”

“You got a better idea how we get outta here?” Rachel folded her arms.

Erelah bit her lip. Abruptly, she looked up as an idea formed. She made for Brilta’s location.

Rachel seized her elbow. “What are you going to do?”

“I’ll ask her.”

52

When compared to the considerable hole that had just been made in the bunker wall, as well as the one created in the Guildsman posted at the door, the man that stepped through it seemed unremarkable, nearly disappointing. He was clad in a familiar uniform: a solid blue shipsuit, festooned with fasteners and zippers. Insignia glinted at the neck and colored patches decorated the sleeves at both biceps like some sort of tribal brands.

Just like Northway’s.

Asher cursed under his breath.

Seconds before, the room had rocked with the force of the explosion. Part of him now wondered what sort of weapon could create such a perfectly shaped hole, but he doubted the invaders were about to explain. The room filled with other armed figures. Identical to the attackers to Ix’s ship, they wore heavy armor and their faces were partially obscured by gleaming black helmets.

“On your knees! Hands behind your head!” The commands were barked in barely comprehensible Commonspeak.

They could have been a detachment of Eugenes soldiers, the kind they called Volunteers. Their moves were well-practiced. But that’s where the likeness ended. The four men spoke back and forth to each other in clipped staccato, their words nonsense, like the yapping of spike hounds.

Asher found himself kneeling beside Ulrid, hands clasped behind his head.

The man in the shipsuit took in the room. His moves did not seem as easy as those of the armored men. Asher suspected he was someone higher ranking and used to giving commands from afar, an officer.

As he watched, one of the soldiers strode up, offering the hacked med scanner to the officer. The man regarded it with a curious frown while they conferred in their strange tongue. He thrust it back at the soldier and focused his attention on Ulrid.

There were more commands and two of the sentries jogged out of the room.

The officer stood over them. His eyes were a strange icy blue. Asher had never seen healthy eyes that color, ones capable of sight. This was Northway’s UEC? A Human? Where was the ferocity Ulrid warned about? The officer gestured for the soldier, a stocky dark-skinned man that had been yelling in Commonspeak.

“Captain Wren regrets this hostile action is necessary. We will locate and extract the fugitives that arrived here a few days ago. No other harm will come to you for cooperation.”

“Fugitive is a pretty broad term around here,” Asher volunteered, just as Ulrid drew in breath to speak.

The soldier translated. Wren’s mouth twitched with a sort of wry amusement: “A female arrived here. Where is she?”

“That depends,” Ulrid spouted. “What do we get in trade?”

This elicited a narrowed stare from Wren once translated.

“The UEC does not negotiate with terrorist organizations or organized crime syndicates. We deal with recognized governments. This operation is a rogue mining facility with a forced labor base.”

Asher muttered. “Guess he told you.”

“Shut up,” Ulrid snapped. His attention swiveled back to Wren. “Now listen. That’s not how this works.”

Wren didn’t wait for the translation. He made a slashing motion across his neck. The Human guard raised his weapon, a heavy, boxy thing with the shape of a rifle. A wicked red light traced a path up the floor to nest in the center of Ulrid’s chest. Some type of targeting system, he guessed.

“Look. I’m not with these guys,” Asher offered.

The leader shook his head at the translation he received. A similar red dot of light appeared in the center of Asher’s chest.

There was a ping of metal on metal as an object flew into the room through the blasted-out wall. The item fell to the floor and rolled to a stop near Wren’s boot.

Concussion grenade.

Ceric’s doing. Had to be.

Asher flexed down, covering his head.

The walloping flash-pop of the compression wave flattened his lungs. He saw the veins of his eyelids outlined with sudden brightness, as if someone had unleashed a tiny sun in the room.

There were a series of barked shouts in the Human language. A volley of pulse rounds. A body hit the floor nearby. Something heavy and soft fell across his legs. Ulrid. That’s where he was when the room last made sense.

Above him, the air filled with the answering bark of the invader’s weapons. The echoes were punishing against the metal walls of the room.

Cover. Get to cover.

Neglected training cut a path through the haze of his brain. Asher straightened, or at least tried to, but a wave of vertigo overwhelmed, driving him back to his knees. He settled for an unsteady crawl. Ulrid’s body fell away. Squinting against the flash burn of dark that engulfed the room, he made out Wren staggering to his feet, one of his soldiers pulling him up by the elbow. A thick layer of dust covered the once-neat blue uniform.

Boots scuffed. Another shout, this time in Common. As he took cover behind the shoulder of the hub, Asher glimpsed Ceric leaning into the hole in the ruined wall, pulse rifle trained on Wren. The Human aiding him pushed Wren out of the way. The pulse round struck center mass on the heavy chest armor. The Human fell back. Incredibly, he rolled to his side and shifted his weight onto one knee, taking aim at Ceric’s location.

Asher pulled himself into a seated position, back wedged against the hub’s uprights. The vertigo was edging away, but intense pressure wormed against his ears. A dull throb had formed behind his eyes. He swallowed against a wave of nausea.

Beyond the questionable safety of his spot, there was another exchange of plasma rounds and the Human ballistic weapons. A pinging ricochet against metal forced him to the floor. He cast about the ruined space as the volley continued overhead.

Nothing. No weapons. No other way out of the room.

A tense pause in fire from the Humans’ side of the room. The sounds of a metal ping followed by a muted beep. Full of curious dread, Asher glanced up from his position. A Human soldier rose, device in hand, prepared to throw. Ceric pivoted into view. He snapped off a round that struck the thrower’s bicep. The device bounced across the floor and rolled off to parts unknown.

Asher threw himself to the floor, curling into a knot.

The roar of energy was incredible. Heat licked the back of his neck. The massive body of the hub shifted, thrusting him like a rag doll into the opposite wall. Jagged metal chewed into his side as one of the uprights broke free.

The stillness that came next made him wonder if he’d lost his hearing. Then, the sounds of wet coughing. A ragged voice cursing.

Asher tried to uncurl his body and found he was wedged between the wall and the remains of the work hub. He pushed against the metal to his left. It fell away, granting him room to straighten onto his stomach. Pain lanced his flank. He pressed a hand there; it came away bloody in the uncertain light. He stifled a curse.

Forcing himself to focus, he examined the bent angles of his shelter. There.

The lower section of wall had been torn from the frame. He eased the flap of metal to the side and glimpsed the pipes and lines of a catwalk.

Gritting his teeth against the pain, Asher slipped through the newly made opening.

53

Ask her. Maybe I should have thought of that. Might have saved a lot of problems with Ix.

Rachel arched an eyebrow. Erelah staunchly denied having done her little parlor trick on She Ra the guard, but whatever she had said to her, it worked. Brilta ushered them out the door, close on their heels in the eerie quiet of the compound. They passed the corridor Rachel recognized that would take them to the medical bay. And kept moving.

“Where we going?” Rachel watched two guards sprint by in the direction of the landing field. They never gave them a second glance.

“Taking you to Ulrid,” Brilta answered. Her tone suggested surprise. “Tilley said you’d be safest there.”

Beside her, Erelah’s shoulders drew up slightly. Her brows knit with some strange form of apology. To be fair, she had solved the problem of getting out of their quarters. There was still the question of giving their babysitter the slip.

Rachel exhaled. “Oh. She did, huh?”

Then, realizing: “Safe from what?”

A sharp noise like the rhythmic mix of metal against metal chewed the air. Rachel startled. The sound came from overhead, like a warning siren.

“Move. Now. It’s lockdown. We’re being raided.” Brilta thrust at their backs. Dimly lit alcoves flashed by as they ran. Two more corridors. Cautious hope welled up in her. It was a straight shot to the landing field. If they could just make it to the lift. Certainly, they could outrun this giant woman. They had to try.

Rachel had not really thought that far ahead. She’d envisioned a sprint for the landing field. Erelah helping pilot one of those ships away. Flipping the bird out the window as this dirty little planet grew small in the portal. The details of how this all would happen were a problem.

Suddenly the giant’s fist seized her collar and her feet briefly lost contact with the floor. Rachel was propelled down a new passage and running in totally the wrong direction.

Shit.

They faced a new set of double doors. At their approach, they rolled open. Lights flicked on. Another elevator-thing, but definitely going the wrong way.

Do something. Think!

Rachel doubled over, bellowing in pain as she clutched her knee. She could have grimaced at the melodrama of it. But it forced Brilta to stop and release her grip.

“What.” Brilta sounded hurried, fearful.

“My knee,” Rachel gasped. She faked a fresh wave of pain. “It’s a spasm. It’s an…uh…old field hockey injury. I don’t think I can walk.”

She met Erelah’s stare. The green eyes widened.

Brilta moved behind her, snaking a hand beneath her legs, another over her shoulders. The woman was actually trying to lift her, a prospect that was horrifying under any circumstance.

“Oh!” Erelah yelled. “I wouldn’t do that!”

The guard froze. “We have to get to Ulrid.”

“Of course,” Erelah stammered. “But it might…um…make it worse.”

There was hope for the girl yet.

A volley of shouts echoed to them. They seemed to come from the same level, but it was impossible to determine the direction. The communication device perched on the guard’s arm erupted into life with some lights and muted beeps. Brilta’s hand went to her ear. The woman turned away to listen, bent over with concentration.