The Round Table (Space Lore Book 3) (11 page)

Cade’s voice came across the ship’s comm: “They’re coming back.”

Quickly looked out the side window of the Griffin Fire’s cockpit. The remaining four armored Vonnegans had regrouped and were in front of the Pendragon again.

Quickly’s first instinct was to ask, “What do you want me to do about it?” His second was to say, “Hey, I’m doing my best here.” What he actually said was, “Give me a minute. I’ll figure something out.”

Before he could do anything else, though, another round of beeps began chiming on the navigational display in front of him. Twelve more Thunderbolts were approaching from the Athens Destroyer that had just arrived.

24

Le Savage paced back and forth across the command center. There was no point looking out the windows at the prison yards; the raiders would have to be insane to go back out there. At the same time, it was pointless to watch the display monitors.

“How could you lose them?” he shouted at no one in particular.

None of the officers acknowledged him because whoever did would be accepting responsibility for what had happened. Meanwhile, Le Savage had every possible guard and trooper, all in full armor and all with assault blasters, combing every part of the facility.

“We’ve found them,” a voice said, crackling through the speaker beside the monitors.

“And?” he said, staring at the officers on the other side of the room, daring any of them to say something.

“They’re in the explosives depot, sir.”

“The explosives depot?” Le Savage said, not knowing whether he should laugh or cry or throw someone else through the broken window.

The room where the raiders had trapped themselves contained enough explosives to destroy the entire facility. The mining colony, the prison—all of it. But on the bright side, the people inside there would be the first to die. It was possible that if one of the raiders thought they were going to be captured, they could ensure a quick death and take everyone else with them. If that were the case, it would be better to have died along with the raiders than to live and have to explain all of this to Mowbray.

Le Savage had a suspicion that they wouldn’t do something as foolhardy as blowing up the explosives depot, though. People didn’t break into the galaxy’s most notorious prison to attempt a rescue because they welcomed death. They broke into it because they valued life—both their friend’s and their own.

“What would you like us to do, sir?” the trooper asked through the open comm channel, anonymous behind his helmet and safe from the other side of the facility.

Le Savage looked at his officers, all of them as far away from him as they could be while still remaining at their posts. When this was over, he would put in transfer orders for all of them. It was an honor to serve at the Cauldrons of Dagda. He would see how much they would like it at the remote outpost at Septive-8. There was nothing at that facility but ice. One mistake meant freezing to death. There was no communication with the outside galaxy. It would serve them right for disappointing Le Savage during this raid.

“What I want,” he said into the microphone, “is for you to kill them. In the worst way possible. Do not take them prisoner. Do not let them out of that room. Kill them terribly and kill them now. However you have to do it.”

25

“What do we do?” Morgan asked, but neither Pistol nor Traskk had an idea.

She looked at Vere to see if she had a suggestion, but her friend was still trying to figure out what part of the Cauldrons they could be at.

“Sorry,” Vere said with a shrug. “If we were in the mess hall I could help, but I’ve never been here before.”

Morgan rolled her eyes and looked around for another option.

A group of Vonnegan troopers was still standing outside the only doorway they had found. As far as Morgan knew, the only other way out of the room was the triangular hole she had cut in the wall. She could carve a new opening with her Meursault blade, but she was sure that troops had filled that entire hallway. She walked to the spot where she had cut through the wall, and her suspicions were confirmed when she heard a large group of troops walking back and forth, discussing how best to get at the raiders.

None of the guards at the open doorway were shooting at her or her friends, she realized. Morgan figured that they appreciated exactly just how many explosives filled the room and the extent of the damage they could cause.

“You have the best aim out of all of us,” Morgan said, handing Pistol one of the two blasters she had picked up. “Only shoot if you know you’ll hit your target.”

The android held the blaster out with his good arm, then adjusted its position so his aim was reliant entirely on the one eye that still functioned. The eye began to glow as it calibrated for accuracy. When he was finished, he stood up, aimed the weapon, and shot the shoulder of one of the armored troops who was too close to the doorway. The Vonnegan fell flat on his back. Upon seeing his comrade get blasted, a second trooper, who had also been near the open door, darted backward and away from danger.

“They’re still out there,” Morgan said to Pistol. “Any time they try and sneak in, remind them how good of a shot an android can be.”

Pistol’s only confirmation that he had heard the order was a slight nod. Moments later, a second group of troopers appeared by the doorway as they tried to decide how to kill or capture the raiders without blowing themselves up, along with the entire facility. Pistol squeezed the trigger. A laser blast struck a Vonnegan between the chest plates of his armor and dropped him to the ground exactly like the first one. The others near him hid behind the wall, out of sight.

“We seem to be stuck,” Morgan said. “Very stuck.”

Traskk offered a growl of agreement.

As they watched, the android’s advanced tactical program cycled through its progression. Tiny dots of light flashed at various places across his pupil as his systems calculated various targets and the potential accuracy of every possible shot.

To their side, the same section of the wall that Traskk had moved back into position began to screech as a group of Vonnegan guards attempted to collectively do what Traskk had managed all by himself. In response, Pistol’s optics focused on the open doorway for half a second, then swiveled to assess the area of the wall where Vonnegan troops might appear at any moment. No part of him moved except for his eye, which was unblinking and rapid in its rotations.

A Vonnegan trooper peered around the edge of the doorway at the end of the room. Before he could pull his head back, a laser streak flashed across the room and struck his helmet, causing him to tumble to the ground.

Another trooper took a chance. This one, instead of playing cautious, tried to run into the room at full speed and take a defensive position before any of the raiders could get him. The android’s calculations, however, were much too fast for a Vonnegan to outrace. The trooper was only two steps across the room before a pair of laser blasts hit the side of his chest plating and dropped him to the ground.

“They’re losing their patience,” Morgan said.

Again, Traskk growled in agreement.

Vere said, “As soon as we get out of here, we have to build the round table.”

Not knowing what that was supposed to mean and not particularly caring, Morgan replied, “We’ve got to get out of here first. Every minute we waste is time for more Vonnegan forces to make sure we never get home.”

Traskk growled and pointed in the general direction of the spaceport, where the Pendragon would still be parked and where the Griffin Fire would be providing protection. Morgan groaned at the thought of the damage her ship might be taking.

“Pistol, any suggestions?”

The android didn’t turn his attention away from either of the targets he was scanning. “Not enough information to base a decision on. The blast-proof walls affect my ability to scan for alternate routes back to our ships.”

The triangular section of wall slid forward, then slammed hard against the floor with a ringing boom. A group of seven or eight troopers was there. Traskk dived on top of Vere to block her from any laser blasts that would be coming at them. Pistol pulled the trigger of his blaster over and over. Crouching next to a metal storage bin, Morgan did the same.

Most of the shots hit the first four Vonnegans while the troopers behind them continued to return fire. One of the shots, however, missed the open section of wall and bounced off the interior blast-proofing, then went ricocheting around the room, zipping off ten walls before finally being absorbed.

Morgan turned toward Pistol for a second. “I said, only if you know you can hit them.”

Pistol was unfazed by the criticism. “All six of my shots hit their target.”

Knowing she was the only other person inside the room with a blaster, Morgan cringed and kept her mouth shut.

Four more troopers darted into the room, two from the doorway and two from the open section of the wall. Morgan hit the two from the hallway. Pistol shot one of the guards coming in the doorway, but the other managed to hide behind a container without being hit.

“We’re running out of time,” Morgan said.

“Time?” Vere said, then chuckled as if amused by the concept.

Shaking her head and sighing, Morgan tried to ignore the mutterings of the person who had once been the CasterLan leader.

Vonnegan troops were gathering outside the hole in the hallway, preparing for a coordinated attack on the room.

“Go get them,” Morgan said to Traskk, patting the scales on his shoulder.

In the time it took her eyelids to blink once, the reptile was already gone, bolting between rows of explosives containers on his way to rip apart the enemy. Moments later, she heard one trooper offer a muffled yell before going silent. Another screamed, fired a blaster, then went quiet in mid-yell. Two others screamed, the sound of their fear echoing in the cavernous room as a warning to any other Vonnegan who would be dumb enough to face the rage of an angry Basilisk.

Three more troopers dashed inside the open doorway. Pistol was able to get two of them but the third was able to find cover and begin stalking the aisles of containers.

“We’re running out of time,” Morgan said again, trying to think of something for them to do, some way to get out of the room they were trapped in. She had the suspicion that by the time they did manage to get back up to the spaceport, it would be too late. Both ships would be destroyed and she would look up at the sky to see a dozen Athens Destroyers orbiting Terror-Dhome.

A laser blast began bouncing off the walls. Then another. And another after that. Only three laser blasts were being deflected back and forth off of every wall, but they were flying so fast that it seemed like a hundred blasts ricocheting around them.

“Down,” Morgan yelled so none of her companions would get hit.

From some unseen part of the other side of the room, another of Traskk’s ferocious growls echoed.

Laser blasts kept ricocheting off the walls. Looking at the open doorway and then at the hole in the wall, Morgan could see there were no Vonnegan troopers firing.

“It doesn’t make sense,” Morgan almost said, then noticed that it was Vere who was shooting.

She must have picked up the blaster that Morgan had put on the ground and was now firing shot after shot toward the doorways. Almost none of the shots hit their targets, however. As a result, the entire room was filled with streaks of lasers that were bouncing all around them and the containers of explosives.

With a frown, Vere said, “It turns out that two years of hard labor does awful things for your shooting accuracy.” However, that didn’t stop her from continuing to try and help keep the Vonnegans away.

“What are you doing?” Morgan hissed, grabbing the blaster from Vere.

Vere was still standing where she could get shot. Instead of being worried about the threat, she displayed a calm expression of complete serenity. A laser blast sailed past Vere’s head, missing her face by less than a foot. She didn’t even flinch.

“We’ll get out of here. Don’t worry.”

Morgan grabbed both of Vere’s shoulders and yanked her down to the ground.

“I love your optimism, Vere, but you’re driving me insane right now.”

Vere seemed unflustered by this. “Your word isn’t the same as mine.”

“That’s great,” Morgan said. “That’s just wonderful. I’d love to hear all about it later on, after we’re done saving you.”

Unlike the Vere she had known, the Vere in front of her only gave a small smile, then went back to acting supremely confident that they would escape. The Vere she had met in Eastcheap, the one she had convinced to return to Edsall Dark in an attempt to prevent a war, the one who had obsessed over the Excalibur Armada before sacrificing herself for the rest of the kingdom, would have at least had something threatening to say. The Vere that Morgan saw in front of her now looked like she knew something no one else did. There was no fury in her eyes, no panic. Only calm and a sense of purpose.

After the laser blasts were absorbed into the blast-proof plating, Morgan took a deep breath. All around her, she saw containers—each of which held massive amounts of explosives—with the blast-proof coating that was wearing away. Another shot on one of the weakened points and all of the explosives inside would be set off. When that happened, no amount of protective coating would keep the other containers from igniting as well. The entire room, the entire prison and mining colony, would erupt in a series of catastrophic explosions. Every part of the facility would crumble into the lava and become liquid fire in a matter of seconds.

On the far side of the room, another Vonnegan yelped, and she knew Traskk had successfully stalked another victim.

Morgan stood and moved behind one of the giant containers. She pushed as hard as she could, but the metal crate wouldn’t budge.

“Pistol, drop the blaster. I’ve got an idea.”

The android saw what she was trying to do and joined in the attempt. But between the two of them, the container still wouldn’t move even an inch across the metal floor.