Star Crossed

by C. Gockel

  Alisa frowned down the empty corridor, telling herself that what they chatted about was none of her business. She had come to trust Leonidas, and Alejandro… Well, she didn’t not trust him. He seemed a decent man. But he was on some mission for someone, something that revolved around that orb, and who knew what he might do in order to succeed? She ought to dump him on Perun and forget she had seen anything, but what if some trouble awaited him there, and what if it came his way before he was off her ship? Shouldn’t she know about it ahead of time?

  “You’re a snoop, and there’s no justifying it,” she whispered to herself as she headed to NavCom.

  Once inside, she shut the hatch, slid into the co-pilot’s seat, and flicked one of a handful of intercom switches, one that connected with Alejandro’s cabin. She muted her end and leaned close to the speaker, hoping to catch what they were saying. Even with the NavCom hatch shut, the noise from the enthusiastic conversations and occasional claps from the mess made it hard for her to hear.

  “I have no experience working with biomechatronics,” Alejandro was saying.

  “I have his files,” Leonidas said. “You could learn.”

  “Not easily, and if you’ll forgive my self-absorption, that’s not where my interests lie right now.”

  “It could be studied on the side. It need not interfere with your mission.”

  His mission. What mission?

  Alisa leaned closer to the speaker, feeling like a dirty eavesdropper, but she couldn’t help herself. She was curious, both about the orb and about Leonidas and what he wanted from the galaxy.

  “Mastering bioengineering isn’t a hobby, my friend,” Alejandro said. “You need someone like Dr. Bartosz, someone who has advanced degrees in medicine and also in engineering. And who has experience working with cyborgs.”

  “Dr. Bartosz is dead,” Leonidas said bluntly.

  Bartosz, that was the man whose remains had been on the floor in that lab, wasn’t it? Leonidas had mentioned him before.

  “He’s the only one I knew of who had those qualifications,” Leonidas added.

  “I’m afraid I can’t help you in this manner. Even if the tenets of the sun gods didn’t proclaim it an abomination to manipulate men so, it’s not as if you’re dying. I would try if that were the case, but this is…”

  “Important to me,” Leonidas said.

  Alisa could hear the quiet plea in his usually stolid voice, and she winced, feeling guilty once again about eavesdropping. As curious as she was, this wasn’t meant for her to hear. She moved her hand toward the switch to turn off the intercom, but froze at Alejandro’s next words.

  “It’s not paramount to the revival of the empire,” he said.

  Alisa’s breath caught. She had been right. That orb had to do with something huge. Something so huge it could reunite the empire and give them the boost they needed to fight the Alliance again? The emperor’s fall had been the death knell for the empire, but there were rumors that the ten-year-old prince might not have been in the palace when it was destroyed. Alisa did not know if there was any truth to them, but there was always the possibility that loyalists would rally around the boy if he were found.

  “Help me,” Leonidas said, “and I’ll help you with your quest.”

  “You won’t help me anyway?” Alejandro asked. “To return the empire to power?”

  “We’ll see. Maybe I’ll follow Malik’s example and go build a pirate fleet of my own.”

  “I highly doubt that.”

  “You don’t know me, Doctor. Do not presume.”

  “Very well, but—”

  A knock sounded on the NavCom hatch. Alisa flicked off the switch, spinning to face her visitor. Beck stood outside and held up a platter of food to the circular window in the hatch.

  Alisa almost waved him away so she could continue eavesdropping in private, but her stomach whined at the sight of that food. She couldn’t remember the last time she had eaten. Besides, that conversation had sounded like it was winding up. She was glad Leonidas had not outright agreed to help the doctor. Whatever Alejandro was up to, it couldn’t be good for the Alliance. As a former soldier and a current citizen, she ought to report everything she knew about him and his orb to the government. But that would take a trip to Arkadius, and she wasn’t going to plan any more stops until she had Jelena. Maybe later, she could try to find cargo that needed to head in that direction.

  Alisa opened the hatch to let Beck in. “They let you leave the grill?”

  “Just for a delivery.” He strolled in and set the platter on the console. There was food enough for three or four, and she thought he might want to join her, but he lifted a hand in parting. “Got the next round of steaks on. Just wanted to make sure you ate. When I sent you to round up the others, I meant for you to come back afterward.”

  “Thank you, Beck.”

  Leonidas appeared in the corridor behind Beck, and he jumped. “Damn it, mech. How can someone so big be so stealthy?”

  Leonidas’s eyes narrowed. Alisa remembered the way Alejandro had implied the gods thought cyborgs were an abomination and wished Beck would stop calling Leonidas a mech. Not that she had been any better a few days ago. But since then, they had been through a lot together.

  “Cybernetically enhanced sensors on the soles of my feet,” Leonidas said.

  “Really?”

  “No.”

  “Oh.”

  “You want something to eat, Leonidas?” Alisa asked, waving at the platter.

  “Hm.”

  “It’s not poisoned, I swear,” Beck said. “Since I had the captain in mind when I made that plate. And since poisons are expensive.”

  “I would detect them anyway,” Leonidas said. “I do have enhanced taste buds.”

  “To detect poisons?”

  “Yes.”

  “Huh. Bet you’d win a spice contest.”

  “A what?” Leonidas looked at Alisa.

  She shrugged at him. It sounded like something Yumi might do to her crops or batches or whatever they were called.

  “A blind spice tasting,” Beck explained. “You have to identify everything by taste alone, and they always have some exotic stuff.”

  Leonidas regarded him like something sticky one might find on the bottom of one’s shoe.

  “I’ll get back to my grill,” Beck said, waving to Alisa and easing past Leonidas while being careful not to touch him.

  Alisa wondered what Beck would think if she made that job offer to Leonidas and he accepted it. She had originally only been thinking of her own needs in considering it, but if Leonidas was working for her, he wouldn’t go off with Alejandro to help with a quest that might not be good for the Alliance. But would Leonidas be interested in the gig? And how would she pay all of these people if she managed to hire them?

  “You’re wearing a pensive expression,” Leonidas observed, as he reached over to pick up a piece of meat from the platter and gave it a sniff.

  “I was contemplating deep thoughts,” Alisa said, picking up a piece of meat.

  “Not inappropriate humor? Odd.”

  “Well, we’re relaxing over food. Humor wouldn’t be inappropriate now, would it?” While she debated on how to raise the subject of employment, or perhaps on how to gauge his interest first, she pointed to the food in his hand. “Are you going to try some? It’s not a raw liver, but it’s tasty.”

  He took an experimental bite.

  “I haven’t had a chance to say it yet,” Alisa said, “but I appreciate that you hauled Malik off me and that you were willing to fight him so that we could escape.”

  “There was never a question.”

  “That you would choose to save an Alliance pilot and a bunch of scruffy miners over someone you used to command?”

  His eyebrows rose, and she remembered that he had never spoken of his command.

  “While Alejandro and I were dodging the fire of irate pirates and overzealous attack robots, I saw some pictures on display in Malik’s qu
arters,” Alisa said. “You were all drinking beer in some bar.”

  “Ah.”

  “You know,” she said, watching as he took another bite, “the stories all say that cyborgs don’t need food or drink. Or alcohol.” There hadn’t been any mentions of colleagues sharing a beer either. Belatedly, it occurred to her that the words might offend him—he wasn’t as obviously proud of being super human as Malik had been.

  “Yes, we’re supposed to get by on engine oil,” he said, giving her a dry look. “We’re human, Marchenko. Until I was twenty, I was just like you. I played sports, ran around the neighborhood with friends, studied engineering at the university. We’re human. Fewer weaknesses perhaps, but all of the failings.”

  “I’m beginning to see that.”

  “That I have failings?”

  “That you’re human.”

  She expected him to snort, but all he said was a soft, “Good.”

  “So… engineering at the university, huh? I guess that explains one of Mica’s mysteries.”

  He lifted his eyebrows.

  “We were wondering who had been fixing the ship before we got on board,” Alisa said. “I expected that we would have to do a lot more repairs before we could get the Nomad in the air.”

  “It was the most promising vessel in the junkyard.”

  “Were you also going to pilot it if I hadn’t shown up?”

  “It crossed my mind. I’ve flown helicopters and air hammers.”

  “But not spaceships?”

  “No, but I was optimistic about my capabilities. And the effectiveness of the autopilot.”

  “The autopilot doesn’t know how to handle pirates,” Alisa said. “And it would have beeped incessantly at you if you tried to order it into an asteroid field.”

  “You’re saying I should consider myself lucky that you came along?”

  “Oh, that’s a given.” She grinned at him.

  He didn’t exactly grin back, but the corners of his mouth did twitch slightly.

  “Leonidas… do you want a job?”

  “A what?”

  Perhaps that hadn’t been the best segue. “It’s like what you were already doing this week, except with payment. You beat up pirates, smugglers, mafia, gangsters, and anyone else who gives my ship the squinty eye, and I’ll pay you for it.”

  He looked into her eyes as if trying to decide if she had been inhaling something from Yumi’s trunk. “Will you be paying me with stolen cyborg implants?”

  “No, those got left behind unfortunately. I would pay you a legitimate split from carrying cargo and passengers.”

  Leonidas clasped his hands behind his back and gazed at the starry blackness displayed on the view screen.

  “Even though you’re the sole reason my ship and my people were attacked again and again this week,” Alisa said, “I’ve come to realize that you’re more appealing as an ally than as an enemy.”

  “Not the sole reason,” he said. “I had nothing to do with the White Dragon ship.”

  “That’s true. You’re only mostly the sole reason.” She spread her palm upward. “Are you interested? I could perhaps be talked into taking you wherever you’re heading next for your quest.” Alejandro hadn’t been willing to help him, but she would. Maybe that would make a difference to him.

  “I’m heading to Perun next.”

  “That’s perfect, since I’m heading to Perun next.”

  He snorted.

  “And after you finish your mission there?” she asked. “You’re too young to retire, and clearly if you fly around with us, you’ll get lots of opportunities to flex your muscles and shoot things. On account of my mouth.”

  “Of that I have no doubt.”

  Alisa raised her eyebrows and smiled. She wouldn’t push further, but hoped he would consider it even as she decided it was crazy that she wanted a former commander of the Cyborg Corps to join her crew.

  “Do I get to outrank Beck?” Leonidas asked.

  Her smile turned into a grin. “Probably. He may get laterally transferred to the position of chef. This bear is amazingly un-disgusting.”

  “An accolade like that on the side of his sauce bottles will make him a millionaire.”

  “Alas, I doubt he’ll put me in charge of his marketing.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Leonidas said.

  “Marketing slogans or the job?”

  “The job.”

  That was more than Alisa had expected.

  “Good,” she said.

  THE END

  * * *

  The second novel in the Fallen Empire series, Honor’s Flight, is now available at your favorite vendor. Also, be sure to sign up for the Fallen Empire newsletter to get Last Command, the Leonidas prequel, for free, along with other bonus extras.

  * * *

  Want to get in touch with Lindsay? You can find her on Twitter and Facebook or contact her through her website.

  The Iron Admiral: Conspiracy

  PTORIX EMPIRE BOOK 1

  By Greta van der Rol

  * * *

  Amid rising inter-species tensions, brilliant systems Engineer Allysha Marten takes one last job to rid her of debts and her cheating husband. On the mysterious planet Tisyphor a security guard wins her trust and her affection. Together, they uncover a plot that threatens to plunge the Galaxy into inter-species war. As they scramble to prevent the coming holocaust, Allysha is horrified to learn that her new lover is ex-Admiral Chaka Saahren, the man the Ptorix call Chozhu the Destroyer, the man responsible for the death of her father, along with millions of other innocent civilians.

  In a race against time, Saahren must convince Allysha to set aside her conflicted emotions about him to help him prevent the coming conflagration. And perhaps while he’s doing that, he’ll win back the only woman he’s ever loved.

  1

  Shernish, Carnessa, main planet of the Qerran Suldanate

  * * *

  Ullnish Space Port, a spectacular confection of multi-colored domes and turrets in the best Ptorix architectural style, glowed a welcome. Allysha traded a look with Sean as the driver guided his taxi around the concourse to join a line of vehicles, all depositing passengers.

  "Looks like we made it," she murmured.

  "So far. But they’ll be after us." Sean stared along the road to Shernish, where lights were starting to hold their own in the gathering dusk. A lingering line of orange still stained the horizon where the sun had disappeared.

  Allysha paid the driver and climbed out of the taxi to join Sean on the pavement. He reached out to grasp her arm but she jerked away. "Let’s not make with the happy couple thing, okay? I mean it. When this is over, I want a divorce."

  He grinned that lopsided grin she used to think was cute. "Don’t be like that, Ally. You know you’re the only one I love."

  Time was that might have worked; had worked. Now she was beginning to wonder what she’d ever seen in him. "Me and that blonde bimbo you were screwing in my bed?"

  Sean flushed, scratched at his hair. She’d come home early from her trip to Brjyl and caught him at it, stark bollocks naked with her riding him.

  They followed the crowd into the cavernous main hall. Most of the passengers were humans, probably getting out while they could. Just like us. Sean headed toward the flight schedule displayed in the middle of the main hall while Allysha waited, arms folded, foot tapping on inlaid tiles, eyes flicking around the hall. The building glittered around her, all curved walls and ornate embellishment, busy with people and luggage. A Ptorix voice rose above the echoing din and she started, nerves jangling. No. The two conical forms approaching her had pale blue fur and wore elaborately decorated, green robes. High caste business people, she’d guess. The writhing tentacles at the ends of each of four arms betrayed tension, nervousness maybe, but not alarm. They passed her, appearing to glide in their floor-length costumes.

  Hard to believe that the sight of a Ptorix would frighten her. Then again, she would never have imagined
the violent demonstrations, crowds of Ptorix brandishing placards saying ‘Humans Out’ rampaging through the streets, attacking human businesses, looting, even assaulting passers by. She shuddered at the memory.

  Sean returned, weaving his way between people and luggage. "Next shuttle to the space station leaves in ten minutes." Stale alcohol wafted with his words. He cast a glance toward the entrance doors. "Best to get lost in the crowd. You can bet Bronx’s mashers will come here when they can’t find us."

  He strode off down the corridor toward the lounge, pushing past people as he went. Allysha hurried to catch up with him. Idiot. How he could have been stupid enough to fall foul of the local crime boss was beyond her. Bronx would ensure they’d both suffer. Ptorix law was very direct when it came to debts; Sean’s debt was her debt. Well, this was it. One last job to pay off Bronx and then the divorce court. Bye, bye Sean.

  The corridor widened into the departure lounge, little more than rows and rows of seating and a counter beside the closed doors to the ramp. All the seats were occupied; at least an hundred other people huddled together in nervous groups, their belongings stacked around their legs on the floor. At the counter a woman sobbed, pleading, and a man, red faced and belligerent, shouted at a sullen Ptorix attendant. Somewhere in the crowd, a child started to cry. Every now and then a few bars of piped music struggled above the formless din of murmured conversations until it was drowned out again. The place was claustrophobic. Too many people, too much noise, too much fear. Foreboding pressed down on Allysha’s soul.

  "Lucky for us," Sean said, gazing upon the scene with a satisfied grin. "We’ll be harder to spot in this."

  She shot him a glance. Lucky? If this was lucky, she couldn’t imagine being unlucky.

  Following Sean, she edged into the crowd, standing too close to too many people. The sooner they got out of here, the better. The air-conditioning fought a losing battle with the stink of nervous sweat. Her skin prickled with heat. She peered between the bodies, scanning the few Ptorix in particular. They stood together, trying not to attract attention. Judging by their tentacles, which waved in and out of the four wide sleeves like an anemone in a swift current, they were as unhappy to be caught up in this as everybody else. Shouts rang out above the background buzz. Her heart jolted and settled again. Just another irate customer venting his fury on the unfortunate counter staff. She eyed the water dispenser out in the open, near the corridor. She’d love a drink. Best to wait.