Unchained (5 page)

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Authors: C.J. Barry

Tags: #romance, #futuristic, #futuristic romance, #science fiction romance, #sfr

BOOK: Unchained
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Cidra watched him pilot the small jet, his
big hands flowing over the helm controls with gentleness and
familiarity, giving the K12 his undivided attention. It was almost
sensual.

Suddenly Grey was asking, “Something
wrong?”

She snapped out of her contemplation and
felt the heat rise in her face. “How long before we rendezvous with
your ship?”


Not long.
Calíbre
is waiting
outside Avion’s sensor range.”


Why outside sensor
range?”

Grey gave her a sardonic grin. “Habit.”

She nodded and fingered the controls
lightly.

Grey leaned back in his chair, evaluating
her. “You want to fly?” He saw her eyes light up and abruptly flame
out.


I’ve only flown in the
SymPod,” she warned.

His eyebrows arched. “You’ve never been
off-planet before?”


Never. Is that a
problem?”

Grey tried not to
frown.
Only if you want a seasoned
crewmember
. “No. No problem. Take over for
a while. It’s a short flight to
Calíbre
.”

They switched pilot and gunner seats and
strapped down. Grey asked, “Does everything look familiar?”

She was slow to reply, totally engrossed in
the panel of controls before her. “Close enough. Our SymPod was
behind a few upgrades.”

Grey nodded. “Why don’t you try some basic
maneuvers?” At least he’d find out what she could do.

She glanced at him sidelong with the most
enigmatic smile he had ever seen, and he immediately regretted his
suggestion. She pulled the ship off autopilot, weaving and spinning
through space with abandon.

While Grey was contemplating the fact that
he had just unleashed a holy terror, behind him Barrios roared with
laughter. “Did Cidra mention she practically lived in that
SymPod?”


Now you tell me,” Grey
murmured, watching her flying skills with interest. She was a
little wild but not bad. Maybe she could be useful on crew after
all. Average would best describe the current level of piloting
skills on
Calíbre
.
She was definitely better than average.

Grey watched, mesmerized by Cidra’s genuine
delight as she commanded the ship through a smooth series of loops
and dives. Suddenly she turned serious, bringing the ship squarely
out of a barrel roll, her eyes wide, focusing straight ahead.
Before he could question her, she plowed the ship into a power
dive.


Cidra, what the–” was all
Grey could get out before a green laser blast shot across the
bow.


They’re shooting at us!”
Cidra gritted her teeth while pulling another evasive maneuver.
“Who are they? How many?”

Grey scanned the displays. “One, a Victor
Class III. Try to bring us around behind them and give me a target
I can see.”

Cidra didn’t want to come around behind
them. She wanted to panic. Her heart pounded in her chest. Some
things the SymPod couldn’t simulate. Impending death was one of
them.

Beside her, Grey snapped, “Cidra, we don’t
have time to swap stations. Move it!”

Immediately, she launched the little ship
into a series of evasive maneuvers and then switched to an Avion
defensive pattern along with anything else she could think of,
pushing Grey’s little K12 to the limit. The Victor stuck with her,
but its reactions grew sloppier as the maneuvers became more
complex.

Concentrating fiercely, she forced a mental
review from her armament training while diving and spinning her
small jet between laser blasts. Victor Class III. Heavily armored
six-man fighter. Good shields, four guns, superb speed. Against
their K12 jet, sporting two guns, minimal shields, and excellent
agility.

Final analysis: no match for any length of
time.

As she was trying to recall the Victor’s
weak points, a blast rocked their small ship. Warning lights
flashed. Grey glanced at her sharply. She knew without asking that
they would not survive another hit.

Under Grey’s command, the K12’s guns
swiveled toward the attacker and spit fire. With the enemy little
more than a blip on his display screen, Grey knew he was wasting a
great deal of ammunition into deep space. He needed them in front
of him for any real chance of a kill.


Hey Captain, need a hand?”
Decker’s voice boomed over the cabin’s comm. Grey caught a glimpse
of a familiar silver and red ship racing toward them.
Calíbre
.


It’s about time you showed
up,” Grey barked. “Fire on that thing. Now!”


They’re too tight on you.
I don’t think it’s safe until we get closer,” Decker responded, a
worried edge to his voice.


If you wait any longer,
we’ll be dead. We need a distraction. Do it.”

Instantly, long streaks
shot out from
Calíbre
’s cannons, lighting up the Victor’s shields. A perfect hit.
Grey gave silent thanks. Leena was manning the main guns this
shift. She was the best gunner he had. The attacker slowed its
pursuit somewhat, but made no move toward
Calíbre
.


Shields down on the
Victor, sir. They should back off now,” Decker said. “Head for us,
we’ll cover you.”


I don’t think so,” Grey
growled. “Cidra, give me one more shot.”

With the Victor closing fast on her tail
again, she flipped the nimble jet vertical and dove hard left. The
Victor followed on an intercept course. Cidra yanked her ship hard
around and under the Victor at neck breaking speed. She could hear
Barrios’ loud gasp behind her.


Hang on,” she ground out.
The attacker was now above and behind her trying to swing around.
She pulled the K12 straight up and upside down, her guns facing the
Victor’s unprotected side.


Now!” she yelled, but Grey
was already firing. Orange lines lanced across the Victor, ripping
through its vulnerable belly as Cidra pulled them through the
inside-out loop. A violent explosion shook the bigger ship,
followed by a small series of flashes before it burst into a raging
ball of fire.

Cidra brought the transport around to
witness the full destruction of their attacker. The tiny cabin was
quiet except for her ragged breathing. While she fought to control
her thundering heartbeat, it slowly dawned on her that six people
had just died at her very sweaty, very shaky hands.

Grey slammed the comm switch. “Did you get
an ID on that ship, Decker?”


Working on it now. We
should have it by the time you come aboard.” Decker’s voice
bellowed over various whoops from
Calíbre
’s deck crew.

Grey shut off the comm and scrubbed his
hands over his face.


Well, that was
interesting,” Barrios said weakly, his face a light shade of green.
“Friends of yours, Stone?”

Grey exhaled hard. “Everyone has enemies.
We’ll find out who it was.”

Someone wanted him dead.
That much was certain, but they didn’t touch
Calíbre
. Either they did not view her
as a threat—a very remote possibility—or they wanted
Calíbre
unharmed for
another reason.
Piracy
. He would make a list of possible suspects later. He had the
feeling the list would be succinctly short. First, he had someone
to thank.

He turned to Cidra, who sat staring out into
space. “Nice flying, Cidra. We make a good team.”

She didn’t appear to hear him, her face
frozen. He realized she was shaking hard. “Are you all right?”


Fine.” She closed her
eyes, her jaw muscles tightening. “Killing is new for
me.”

He fought the urge to pull her into his arms
and hold her. This was her personal battle. He prayed the strong
warrior within her would win. He could not afford for her to go
soft on him. Out here, a moment of hesitation could be bad. Worse
than bad. Downright deadly.

Grey leaned over, commanding her full
attention. “Cidra, they were trying to kill us and they would have.
We had no choice.”

Cidra nodded. He was right of course, but it
didn’t stop the trembling in her gut that threatened to invade and
conquer the rest of her body. They had families, children,
homes.


I’ll bring us in.” Grey
took over the controls.

She didn’t argue, didn’t have the energy.
She pulled the quiet strength of Kin-sha around her.

Numbly, she watched his
ship fill the main view screen.
Calíbre
. Cidra concentrated on the
sound of it, repeating it until her heartbeat returned to normal
and she no longer felt like vomiting. The name rolled through her
mind as if it had always held a place there.

A Moorian-built cruiser, it moved
gracefully, its red square-tipped nose slicing through space. The
silver main body extended back from the nose, short wings flanking
each side. A massive space foil looming over the aft part of the
ship promised quickness and superior maneuverability.

Sleek, powerful, and dangerous, she mused,
much like her Captain.


She’s beautiful,” Cidra
breathed softly, her voice still shaky from the aftereffects of
battle.

Grey glanced at her, his eyes gleaming.
“Yes. She is.”

He landed the jet in
Calíbre
’s port side
landing bay. As they exited the K12, a tall, lanky man strode
toward them sporting a shock of red hair and what appeared to be a
permanent grin on his face.

The man waved. “Captain, glad to see you in
one piece. Nice bit of flying. I didn’t know you could handle a K12
like that.”


Barrios, Cidra, this is my
first officer, Decker.” Grey gestured to Cidra and looked at
Decker. “Cidra was at the helm.”

Decker’s eyebrows shot up. He whistled
softly and then beamed at Cidra. “Been a long time since we’ve had
a good looking, crack pilot around here.”

She grinned back. “Really, what are your
pilots usually like?”


Average.” Decker winked.
“And real hairy.”

Grey spoke up. “Decker, show Cidra to Cabin
Number Two. Barrios is bunking with you temporarily.”

Decker hesitated. “Uh, Cabin Number Two,
sir?”


Problem?”


No, sir. I just
thought...no problem.” Decker scratched his red head.

Grey turned to Cidra and Barrios. “Decker
can show you around and get you settled. Make yourselves at home.”
He nodded to Decker and strode out of the landing bay.

Decker waved them in the other direction,
ushering them down a hallway of doors. “This corridor runs around
the inside of the ship between crew quarters on the outer perimeter
and the public areas located in the center. Bridge is at the front,
landing bays and cargo in the rear.”

They passed under the high, graceful
archways that formed the ship’s infrastructure. Bright, ambient
light flowed from panels above the doorways spaced along the
corridor. All surfaces gleamed with low luster metal. Austere,
strong, safe.

Cidra paused and pressed her hand against a
smooth wall, tuning into the gentle vibration of a ship alive. The
engines shifted slightly, gearing up for the jump into hyperspace.
She had never actually experienced the vehicle that facilitated
intergalactic travel before. It translated into distance, a lot of
it in a hurry, between her and Avion.

Decker continued his tour. “Including you
two, we now have a crew of eleven. That pretty much fills up the
quarters. We all try to get together for evening meal. Keeps the
group tight. And for the most part, everyone gets along. We work
when there’s a job, usually fifteen days max, then get a break for
about the same.” He shrugged his thin shoulders. “Depends on what
we come up with. Our pay is contingent on success.”


So, how
is
the treasure hunting
business?” Barrios puffed, struggling to keep up with Decker’s long
stride.


It’s been better. Our last
two finds were claimed just as we arrived.” Decker’s voice carried
frustration.

Cidra spoke up. “That’s not an inherent risk
in treasure hunting?”

Decker shook his head. “Not for us. Don’t
get me wrong. Treasure hunting can be a ruthless, dangerous
business but our specialty is recovering very old artifacts
considered lost forever. Not many hunters bother with those, but
Captain has a real talent for it. He’s the best I’ve ever seen. It
takes a lot more research and time because the trail is ice cold.
But the reward is much higher than a simple search and salvage
operation of a more recent wreck.” Decker shook his head. “We put a
lot of work into those two finds. It was no accident both of them
were jumped by the same people.” He stopped talking abruptly and
looked at them, as if sensing he had said too much.


The same people?” Cidra
repeated. “You’re right, that doesn’t sound like a
coincidence.”


Sounds more like a leak.”
Barrios snorted, his eyes roving the corridor. “Any place to get a
drink around here?”

Decker jumped at the change of subject.
“Right this way.”

 

Cidra left Barrios and
Decker in the crew lounge and headed to her quarters. The cabin
numbers were clearly marked on the sleek silver doors of
Calíbre
’s main corridor.
As she stepped up to her cabin door, it slid open for the
personalized comm unit Decker had given her.

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