Star Cruise: Marooned (6 page)

Eventually the storm blew itself out, as she’d known it would, but not before there was a crash at the rear of the building that literally shook the ground. Heart pounding, she remembered there’d been an old growth tree shading the station, which evidently had failed to weather one more storm.
Lucky it didn’t land on the roof or we’d all be dead.

As the winds faded in intensity toward evening, she walked into the conference room to check on her passengers. While distributing snacks, she said, “We should be fine now, since the storm is blowing further inland, away from us. Get some sleep and be ready to leave first thing in the morning.”

She spent a few moments conversing with Lindy, the woman who’d had such a terrified reaction to the storm, bringing her a cup of tea. After making sure no one else required any special attention, Meg gave Red permission to open the storm shutters on the windows because the ventilation system wasn’t working too well and the air had grown stuffy inside the building. He ventured outside and reported there was a great deal of debris on the ground from the winds. The large tree had indeed fallen against the rear of the station, but overall the situation was good.

The night passed without incident. Meg woke at dawn and set out a buffet breakfast, Callina and Red assisting her. As the passengers ate, she said, “I’m going to get a head start on shutting down my robos. We’ll be leaving as soon as everyone’s done eating breakfast.”

“Do you need help?” Red was always attentive.

Callina crammed the remainder of her stale sandwich into her mouth, mumbling something about wanting to pitch in with the chores.

“Don’t rush, no need to choke on your food,” Meg said with a smile. “We’ve had enough emergencies for one trip. This is routine, done it a million times, but thanks for the offer of help, both of you. It’ll take me five minutes or less, promise.”

CHAPTER THREE

The enemy attacked just as Meg disappeared into the hallway to the kitchen. Red hit the deck, dragging Callina with him as the windows burst inwards, showering reinforced glass on the occupants of the room. As if in slow motion, projectiles hit the floor, each bursting into flame upon landing. Vivid yellow and red fire spread from the impact points, creating a firestorm in the room. A projectile landed right next to Lindy, who was immediately enveloped in flame, the blanket she’d been wrapped in going up in an instant. She was dead before she could extricate herself from the folds. Sam and several of the others were trapped on the far side of the room, flames surrounding them on all sides. Yelling and shouting, they attempted to beat the fire out with cushions. Finding new fuel in the furniture, the blaze engulfed them in an explosion.

Heart pounding, Red spared a second to glance at the last spot he’d seen Meg. Through the smoke and flames, he caught a glimpse of her standing in the hallway, screaming his name. He had no way to get there, although he took a step toward her. The center of the room was an inferno. Part of the roof collapsed, sending a solid sheet of sparks flying through the room, forcing him to retreat.

Callina was hanging onto his shirt, coughing. “We have to get out.”

With one final despairing glance at the raging blaze where Meg had been standing, he drew his blaster, scooped the younger woman into his arms, and sprinted for the front door. Most likely, he was going to run right into the waiting enemy, but the only other choice was burning to death. Carrying Callina, he hurdled the low flames at the threshold and rolled onto the porch to extinguish any stray sparks on their clothing. The blaster was knocked from his hand by the impact, flying into the darkness.

Releasing Callina, he yelled at her. “Run to the trees.”

Eyes wide, she nodded, gathering herself to obey. Before she could move, a sticky white net enveloped them, head to toe. A moment later, both net and prisoners were dragged ruthlessly off the porch, bumping across the ground.

He was well aware that the more he struggled, the tighter the net would become, so he forced himself to stay still, and told the screaming woman to do the same. This was a favorite weapon of the Shemdylann pirates. He’d been imprisoned in one before, during training, and knew there was no escape short of burning free with a blaster. His arms were pinned to his sides at awkward angles and struggling would only constrict the cords until he became unconscious or died.

So intent was he on not triggering the web to strangle them, he was startled when a voice spoke right above them. “An amusing diversion, like stepping on a nalirva hive and watching the bugs scurry in a futile attempt to survive. Truly unexpected entertainment.”

The words were in passable Basic. The Shemdylann pirate standing next to them was a high ranking officer, judging by the insignia tattooed onto his upper mandible.

“There are more people inside, you bastard,” Red said. His head pounded with the anger and grief surging through his body. Lying there as a helpless prisoner while innocent people died a few feet away tore at him.

The Shemdylann waved one clawed hand. “Then let them come outside, or die. I care not. Either way will be equally pleasing to my crew and me.”

The screams from whoever was trapped in the burning building continued for a few more moments, before the entire structure collapsed in an explosion of flame and sparks, bringing abrupt silence rather than the crackling of the fire. Heartsick and consumed with grief for Meg, Red tried to reassure and comfort Callina as much as he could in the impossible situation. She managed to hook three fingers around his left hand and he squeezed tight. “Don’t look at the cabin, best to close your eyes.”

Apparently deciding there was no more amusement to be gleaned, the pirate officer moved away from the net confining Red and Callina. “Bring the prisoners to the beach,” he said, still in Basic. “We’ll see what exactly we’ve captured and decide what to do with them.”

A moment later, a pirate soldier scooped up the double burden as if the net and its contents weighed nothing, hoisting them a good eight feet off the ground onto its shoulder. Carrying them with ease, the alien took the path toward the lake. Head down over his captor’s spiny mantle, Red couldn’t do much more than endure the next few moments until they were tossed carelessly onto the sand by the lake. Fortunately, the way he was trapped in the coils of the net, he cushioned Callina’s fall. He heard thuds and cries of pain or protest as a few other prisoners were deposited close by. Craning his neck painfully, he found the Primary in the net next to him on one side.
 

Figures that guy would survive, while Meg…he forced himself to redirect his thoughts. “Hey, how you holding up?” he asked Callina.

“I-I’m okay. What are they going to do with us?” she whispered.

“Hard to say. I’ll protect you as much as I can.” He made the promise, knowing full well there might not be anything he could do. “Our treatment will depend on what brought the Shemdylann here.”

“Silence.” The closest guard kicked sand at them, and Red closed his eyes against the shower of grit.

A few moments later the sticky webbing dissolved, as a Shemdylann soldier passed a light emitter over them, set to the proper frequency to counteract the coils. Before he could make a move to do anything, Red was pinioned from behind by one alien, while another dragged Callina by her hair into a position next to him. He and the other survivors were in a line, seven altogether, facing the insect-like Shemdylann officer, lounging in a complicated seat brought for him by his subordinates. A lower-ranking officer stood behind the chair, waiting to carry out any orders. Shemdylann by the dozens bustled to and fro on the beach, setting up some kind of apparatus, more of the strange chairs, and performing other tasks. One or two of the hulking, dark red-and-black creatures had wandered into the lake to their double-jointed knees and were staring at the Falls. Assessing the odds, Red took note of the three large craft crowding the landing pad. Too many to all be from one ship, unless it was a battlecruiser. The Shemdylann must have a major presence in this planetary system.

“I didn’t expect to gather slaves here, did you?” The commander spoke over his shoulder to the waiting officer.

 
“A bonus,” the subordinate said, snapping his mandibles in apparent pleasure.
 

The Shemdylann in charge waved one appendage at the prisoners. “Remove your outer clothing, humans, in order for me to assess your value.”

Glancing at each other as if for courage, most of the group prepared to obey the order. Mr. Finchon stepped forward.

“What are you doing? Don’t provoke them.” His stepdaughter grabbed his elbow.

Shaking off her grip, he adopted his usual arrogant stance and said, “I invoke the rules of the Freemarket Repatriation Pact.” Chest puffed, chin jutting, he waved his right wrist. “I have the terms here, on an embedded chip.”

“What’s he talking about?” Red asked Mr. Bettis, who was standing on the other side of Callina.

“Like an insurance policy, very hush-hush. Some of the wealthiest in the Sectors paid through a broker on Freemarket for the right to be ransomed rather than killed or enslaved in the event of capture by the Shemdylann,” Finchon’s assistant replied.
 

“Now, this is intriguing,” the commander was saying, clicking his mandibles. “Bring him to me. If you lie, human, your death will be protracted and entertaining for my crew.”

“No lie.” Not waiting for escort, Finchon strutted to a position in front of the chair and stood motionless as his wrist was scanned by a subordinate who rushed forward, instrument in one pincer. “I’m Ahmeril Finchon and I like to know who I’m dealing with. You are?”

Making the guttural cawing sound that was a Shemdylann laugh, the officer said, “Like all of your kind, you believe in your own importance, despite the evidence to the contrary.” Tapping his clawed toes on the sand, he studied the scanner as his soldier held it close. “Hmm, I’ll make a tidy profit on this trip besides the other rewards. Congratulations, human, you do have the prepaid right to transmit a hefty ransom through the Freemarket broker.” Opening a pouch at his belt, the commander withdrew a chain made from intricate silver links, with one cuff at the end. Leaning forward, he snapped the shackle over Finchon’s left wrist, saying as he attached the other end to a loop piercing his carapace, “You’ll stay with me at all times, both for your protection and to ensure I collect my reward. And I, by the way, am Captain Ar-Taan-Crxtahl, since you have such a desire to know who holds your fate in his claws.” The alien yanked on the chain slightly and cackled anew.

Biting his lip, the billionaire regarded the cuff with distaste, turning it on his wrist with one finger, but said nothing.

“Sir,” the soldier with the scanner said, “According to the terms of the agreement, he also paid for the right to ransom anyone else he chooses.”

“A well thought out codicil,” said the commander. “I applaud you. Are there any among this clump of humans you wish to add to the deal? At full price, of course.”

Finchon turned on his heel in the sand and frowned at his fellow prisoners, assessing each one in turn. Red spat, full of contempt, as his eyes met the billionaire’s. Rubbing his chin where he’d been punched the day before, Finchon tightened his thin lips and moved on to Callina. He regarded her for a moment, then turned to his captor. “No one else.”

Mrs. Bettis screamed and the other three surviving male passengers cursed. Harrelly fell to his knees in the sand, begging for mercy.
 

Red said, “You son of a bitch, how can you abandon your daughter to these monsters? At least pay her ransom.”

“She’s not my daughter, only a kid my late first wife brought along into our marriage. I paid her way for the past fifteen years.” He made a thumbs down sign. “Now I’m done. The price is too high. You have no idea how many credits the ransom is. Let her husband take care of her.”

Red put an arm around Callina. Clinging to his side, sniffling, she said to her stepfather, “I never trusted you. I hate you!”

“I’m sure you do. You’ve outlived your usefulness to me, and we both know it.” Unfazed, Finchon turned to the Shemdylann. “We’re done. I’ll transmit the ransom payment order to New Switzerland as soon as you like.”

“A respectable decision in all aspects. We eat our young at times,” the officer said, eyeing Callina.
 

A Shemdylann soldier came rushing up, saluting. “Sir, we found a weapon in the brush beside the burnt building.” He passed the small civilian blaster to his superior.

“Ah, so one of you is a warrior of sorts. Who does this toy belong to?”

Red didn’t see any point in denial. He raised his hand. “It was mine, from our shuttle.”

“Wise choice, to answer me promptly. No punishment for this then—I can be merciful.” Crxtahl waved the soldier away and leaned forward in his chair, addressing the prisoners. “We’re wasting daylight. Remove your clothing as instructed.”

The male passengers peeled off their shirts and pants, and stood in their swimming gear. Red had worn swim trunks under his uniform the day before in case any of the guests wanted to go snorkeling.
 

Callina pulled off her sundress, revealing a frilly yellow one-piece bathing suit.
 

As if bored, the Shemdylann leader accepted a container from an aide and took a long pull of whatever the fluid refreshment was. As he tossed the now-empty package at the waiting soldier, he said, “Bring the warrior to me.”