by Jaleta Clegg
Chapter 38
Shomies sat on the ground, shoving power packs into a blaster. Half a dozen men surrounded her, whipping out swords when they saw me. I tucked my chin and ran faster, leaping past them into the trees on the other side. Blaster shots followed me into the thicker brush.
The men chasing me crashed her camp. The sound of battle rang through the woods. I circled around, giving the spot a wide berth.
I heard the next group before they saw me. They crashed uphill through the trees towards the sound of fighting. I rolled under a bush and hid while they passed by, close enough that I could have touched their boots.
I scrambled out of the bush. Someone giggled, high-pitched and not entirely sane. I turned slowly.
Ameli clutched a bloody knife in one hand. Her dress hung in ragged shreds. Spatters of blood marked her. She put her finger to her lips. "Shh," she warned. She giggled again, then ran into the trees, singing to herself in a queer, childish voice.
I shuddered and turned around.
Dysun lounged against a tree, a blaster pointed at my navel. A grin spread over his face.
"They're all looking for you, Dace." His accent was more pronounced, the vowels broader than before. "I could name my price for you. They'll pay it."
"I thought we had a deal, Dysun."
"Where's your partner? He wasn't part of our bargain and they all want him just as much as they want you."
"I should have known better than to trust a pirate."
"And I should have known better than to trust a Patrol spy." He raised the blaster. "They won't care if you're damaged."
I pointed my blaster at his head. "I can blow off your head before you shoot me. How much power does your blaster have left, Dysun?"
We stared at each other over our blasters. Sweat ran into my eyes.
Dysun swore and threw his blaster into the bushes. "The charge was gone before I found it. Let's talk, Dace."
"You should have thought of that before you pointed a blaster at me." I squeezed off a shot that set the bush next to him smoldering. He jumped about three feet.
"Deal's off," I said. "Unless you . . ."
He dashed off like a rabbit. I scooped his blaster from the ground, then jogged off into the trees, a gun in each hand.
I didn't meet anyone else on my way back to Tayvis. I probably would have shot first and asked questions afterwards. I was hot, tired, thirsty, and aching. I wanted a bath and real clothes. Worry over Tayvis gnawed at me. I'd set off the beacon, but I didn't have any idea if help was coming. I wiggled into the nest of bushes where I'd left Tayvis. He was still there. So was Flago. He hovered over Tayvis with a knife in his hand.
"Want to watch him die, Dace?"
"I'll blow your ugly face off first."
Flago pricked Tayvis' throat. A drop of blood welled up.
Tayvis didn't move. His closed eyes and ashen face worried me.
"Do it, Dace, and he dies."
I shrugged. "So do you." I tucked Dysun's blaster in the pack and rummaged for a ration bar. They tasted like sawdust, but were packed full of nutrients, or so they always told us at the Academy. I tore the wrapper off with my teeth. I kept the other blaster aimed at Flago.
"I heard he was your lover." Flago twitched the knife.
"I heard that one, too." I took a bite. "Checkmate, Flago. The Patrol is on their way. No matter what, your days are over. Maybe if you run away really fast and hide somewhere, they'll let you stay on this lovely world."
"You fixed that." He shifted so I could see the angry wound on his thigh.
I frowned. "I was aiming higher. I'll have to brush up on my sharp shooting."
He muttered something unrepeatable.
I finished off the bar, crumpling the wrapper in my fist. "I'm tired of your company, Flago. You've got exactly ten seconds to get out of here before I correct my mistake and shoot you where I intended the first time."
"I'll kill him." He pressed the knife into Tayvis' throat.
"One."
Blood welled around the knife point. Flago licked his lips.
"Five." I took the blaster in both hands.
The knife lifted marginally.
I aimed at Flago's crotch and flipped off the safety. "Maybe ten seconds was too long."
Flago scrambled away, limping across the meadow. His leg gave out near the boulders. He tumbled out of sight, cursing.
I flipped the safety on.
Tayvis' eyes fluttered open. "I thought you were a man who hadn't shaved in a while."
"That was Flago. He's gone now. How are you holding up?"
He coughed weakly. His fist closed on my shift, pulling me close. "My enlistment is done in three years," he whispered. "There's a bar on Proxima, on the lower side of the main port. Called the Golden Pig. Look for me there."
"Tayvis."
He lifted his hand to my mouth. "I've looked for years for a woman like you. Promise you'll meet me there."
"I don't have any idea where I'll be three years from now." I pushed the hair from his forehead, checking for fever. His skin was cool and clammy.
"Promise me, Dace."
"Promise me you won't die and I'll be there," I whispered.
"I'm tougher than that," he said so softly I barely heard it.
"I found the beacon, but I don't know if they believed me or not. Someone answered when I tried to send the message."
"What did you tell them?" His voice was thready, weak.
"What you told me to."
"Full reply urgent? You're certain that's what you said?"
"That's what I told him."
"Good." He coughed again. Dark red seeped through the bandage. "It means send the troops immediately in full battle gear." He lay still, breathing shallowly.
"Hang in there, Tayvis." I blinked back tears as I tucked the pack under his head.
Flago's muttered curses stopped. He lurched upright only to fall again.
Blaster fire and sword fighting echoed through the forest.
Tayvis' dark hair and lashes stood out in stark contrast to his white skin. He was dying. It wasn't fair. The only nice thing that had happened to me on Dadilan was Tayvis kissing me. I wiped my nose on the back of my hand.
I held Tayvis' hand and thought about praying. If anything Roland said was true, I could use the help of a divine being. It couldn't hurt to try. I didn't know how to begin. Religion was banned on Tivor. All I had were snatches of conversations to guide me.
The air vibrated. The ground shook as the sound intensified. It took me a minute to realize what it meant. All around the hill where the beacon sat, Patrol ships touched down. Their hatches opened; soldiers in black combat suits poured out.
I squeezed Tayvis' hand with relief. "They're coming."
The troops fanned out in long lines, blasters at the ready. They swept across the meadow. Deep rumbles from Patrol rifle cannons punctuated the occasional blaster shot and the clang of swords. Several men pulled Flago from the rocks. They hauled him away, out of sight.
A blaster shot sizzled over my head catching one of the Patrol troopers full in the chest.
The line immediately dropped to firing position. Rifle cannons boomed. Trees slowly toppled, flames crackling briefly through their branches. The troopers charged up the hill. None of them stopped to search the bushes.
The sounds of fighting grew more distant. I leaned over Tayvis, trying to decide what to do. The chances of getting shot were pretty high if I tried to attract attention, but Tayvis needed help and soon.
The bushes behind me crackled. I turned, my blaster held ready by my leg. I looked into the mouth of a bigger blaster, the shiny faceplate of a trooper behind it. I sighed with relief and dropped my blaster, raising my hands over my head. The blaster twitched, motioning me out of the bushes.
I waded through the branches, glad they weren't full of thorns.
"It's Commander Tayvis," the trooper said as he bent over to look in the clearing. "Get a med team out here. Now." Men jumped and scr
ambled, except for the one holding the blaster on me.
"Holton, get the transport on com and update them," the leader barked as he and two other troopers moved Tayvis out of the bushes. Tayvis looked even worse in the sunlight. The troop leader left Tayvis in the hands of three medics who came running from the transport.
"Is he going to be all right?" I couldn't help asking.
The leader of the troop glanced my direction. Sunlight glinted on his mirrored eye shield."Who are you?"
"Captain Dace of the Star's Grace."
The man frowned. The medics bundled Tayvis onto a stretcher, trailing tubes and medical equipment.
"Take her into custody, Holton," the leader ordered. "Tell the goons at the transport she's C-47. Special orders on base." He turned his attention to the trees and the sounds of fighting.
Holton pulled a pair of force cuffs from his belt.
I held out my hands. I didn't care if I left in chains. I'd had enough of Dadilan.
Holton snapped the cuffs around my wrists, then took my elbow. We followed the stretcher carrying Tayvis.
We hiked around the base of the hill to the meadow where the monks had grazed goats. A long transport shuttle sat in a circle of scorched grass. A plume of smoke trailed lazily into the sky from the remains of the monastery. Several groups of people sat on the grass, guarded by big Patrol troopers with lots of nasty looking weapons.
The medics took Tayvis straight into the transport, into the front compartment. My guard hesitated, then walked me through the crowds of troopers. We passed by a knot of prisoners. Pardui sat on the ground, looking definitely disheveled. She jumped to her feet, shouting profanities as we passed. A guard shoved her down. One of Clyvus' men spat. I wiped the glob off my face with my cuffed hands.
"Popular, aren't you?" my escort muttered in my ear
The officer in charge glared. "Who is this?"
"Sergeant Loomiz said to bring her here. Command says she's C-47."
"Well, put her in the bay with the others." He tapped his clipboard, dismissing us.
"Pardon, sir, but do you really think that's wise?" Holton gestured at the mob of prisoners. "Special orders on base, sir."
The officer frowned. He tapped his stylus against the clipboard.
"They'll kill her."
I decided I liked Holton.
"One less I have to process."
I didn't like the clerk.
A man approached, one with a Commander's clusters on his collar. "Captain Dace?"
The men snapped to attention.
I nodded.
The commander studied me, his mouth pinched tight. "Captain Dace, your position is very thin. From what I've heard, you had better hope Commander Tayvis pulls through. Put her in front," he told the clerk.
I bit my lip, looking down at the force cuffs. How good were Tayvis' promises? Did our unorthodox agreement mean anything?
Holton led me around the transport to the front cabin. He unfolded a seat from the wall in the cabin.
I sat. "I promise to be good."
He buckled the webbing over me, patting my knee on his way out.
Tayvis lay in a bunk on the other side. Machines beeped around him, tended by a medic. Troopers sporting bandages occupied other seats in the small cabin. A door near me led into the cockpit. I heard the pilots going through preflight checklists. The medic hovered over Tayvis, punching codes into the medunit. If he had died, they would have just covered him. I flexed my hands, watching the force field crawl across the cuffs. At least he was still alive.
The takeoff warning bleeped. The doors slid shut. The medic sat down as the engines rumbled to life. She jumped to her feet, checking on Tayvis as soon as we cleared Dadilan's gravity.
I sighed and closed my eyes, finally daring to relax. Dadilan was behind me. I was free. Well, sort of. I tried to ignore the pinching of the force cuffs.
We docked with a Patrol cruiser. The airlock cycled, the door slid open. A medical team whisked Tayvis away. The other wounded troopers followed. I waited. The pilots left. And still I sat. Someone finally came to get me.
"You're Captain Dace," she said as she unbuckled my webbing. "I'm Sue."
Sue would have passed as a storybook grandmother if she hadn't been wearing a Patrol uniform and a nasty looking stunner. She took my arm and led me through the big cruiser.
"No offense, but you need a bath, honey," Sue said.
"I'd love one," I sighed.
She chatted about her posting as we walked. She had custody of prisoners with sensitive status. I wondered why she was at Dadilan.
"Paper mix-up," she confided as she opened a locked door with her thumb. "I was supposed to go to Vilia on a holiday kind of assignment before I retired, but someone stamped the paper wrong. You're the first I've had." She escorted me through a small cell block to one of the back cells. "More privacy here. You'll find clean clothes in the closet."
She unlocked the door and ushered me in. This was a luxury suite compared to the cells on Dadilan. No rats, no dripping water, no cold stone, no maniacs with hot irons. I went in gladly. Sue removed my cuffs, then left with a promise to return with my dinner after I'd had a chance to bathe.
I shoved the rags of my shift and my boots into the recycler. Running hot and cold water that was guaranteed clean was absolute, decadent luxury. I scrubbed until my bruises ached. I washed my hair six times before it finally felt clean.
I dressed in the shipsuit I found in a locker. It didn't matter that it was prison yellow. There were no boots, but I figured I could stand being barefoot in a Patrol cruiser.
A tray of processed food waited in my cell when I finally emerged from the bathroom. I sat down and ate. I tried to sort out what I felt, besides relief at finally getting away. I had no idea what charges I faced. The Patrol had locked me up so there must be some. I didn't know what kind of influence Tayvis had. Every time I thought his name my stomach fluttered. Three years, he had said, until his enlistment ended. It sounded like he wouldn't reenlist if I gave him a good enough reason not to. Where would I be in three years? I had no ship, no money, no contacts. I might not even have a pilot's rating when the Patrol finished with me. But I promised myself that somehow, some way, I would be in that bar on the lower side of the main port of Proxima. Tayvis deserved a chance to see me the way I really was, not the way Dadilan had forced me to be. Maybe, just maybe, it would feel right for both of us.
And maybe not. Anything could happen in three years.
I curled up on the bunk and slept. It was bliss not to worry about bugs.