Liberate: Starship Renegades, #2

by S. J. Bryant

  She propped Alec's limp body against the wall in a sitting position, with his legs stretched into the corridor to hide the pool of blood.

  To anyone walking past, it would look like he was just sitting there, not uncommon in the tunnels of Zenith. The wound in his back was hidden and in the semi-darkness of the passage the blood stains could be overlooked. It would be some time before anyone realized he was dead, and by then Wren hoped to be very far away.

  She wiped her knife clean on the back of his shirt and slid it into her belt. She did her best to clean her hands but a layer of blood had dried, coating her fingers almost up to the wrist. Oh well, she could move without being seen and no one would pay her any attention. She'd wash it off once she got back to Ghost but she couldn't afford to waste any more time. As much as she might have pretended nonchalance, she didn't really want Kari to leave without her. It was hard to find a ship willing to house her and overlook her… profession. Although things had gotten complicated on Kari's ship and Wren was beginning to wonder if it was worth the risk.

  At that moment she didn't have any better options. Besides, Kari and the rest would be lost without her.

  She stood, cast one last look down at Alec, then spun and prowled out of the passage.

  CHAPTER 15

  "How many times do I have to tell you? This isn't some Imperium cover-up. It's a splinter group. I bet ninety-nine percent of the people on Albion had no idea what was happening at that facility," Ryker said, his face turning red.

  A similar heat crept across Kari's cheeks and she had to clench her fists at her side to stop herself from reaching out for Ryker with clawed hands.

  They were supposed to be acting casual and keeping an eye out for the distraction that Alec had promised. They leaned against opposite sides of Ghost's open door and looked out over the market. But as usual, things had disintegrated.

  "You can't be that naive," she said. "They were bloody agents! Are you telling me they're part of the splinter group too?"

  Ryker threw his hands up. "Anyone can be corrupted!"

  "This is so much bigger than that," Kari said. "I've been trying to tell you for years that this Imperium you love isn't some well-meaning overseer. It's corrupt to its core."

  "A few bad apples don't ruin the whole bunch."

  "What?" Kari said. The word apple brought a vague image to her mind of some kind of hard, red food but she couldn't be sure.

  "Just because a few people have done the wrong thing, doesn't mean the whole system is broken."

  "But the system is broken. Do you really think that one day you're going to win the lottery, go to Albion, and fix everything?"

  "Yes," Ryker said with absolute conviction.

  Kari wanted to strangle him. How could such a decent person—and he was decent, she would admit that—be so smart about some things and so stupid about others?

  The shuffle of footsteps made Kari turn. Atticus stood a few paces away, fiddling with something in his hands. Kari couldn't see what it was and she didn't really care—every time she looked at him he had some gadget. Like that ridiculous mouse. Why couldn't he work on the engines, or the shields, or the weapons, if he had to fiddle with something?

  They'd be in a much better position if any of their systems worked like they were supposed to. Technically that was Rusty's job, but Kari hadn't seen him leave the dining room since their encounter with the Imperium ship and he'd been even more drunk than usual. She didn't like to admit it, but maybe Atticus had a point when he said that Rusty wasn't good for much.

  "Are they okay?" she said, careful to lift her hand to her mouth to hide her lips from anyone who might be watching.

  Atticus nodded.

  Kari tried to relax, to keep her shoulders loose, but she doubted she was fooling anyone, especially not those agents whose eyes saw more than they should, kind of like Piper's did.

  "I am going to get to Albion," Ryker said.

  Kari had to stifle a groan. Why couldn't he just let it go? They had more important things to worry about than their political differences.

  "Have you ever heard back from anyone who won the lottery?" Atticus said. His soft voice barely made it over the loud bustle of the market outside.

  Ryker frowned. "No. But what's that got to do with anything?"

  "Surely they had family here," Atticus said. "Did they ever send money back?"

  Ryker shifted a little. "Not that I know of."

  "Doesn't that seem strange to you?"

  Kari stared hard at the side of Atticus' face. He was looking at Ryker as if waiting for something, like a teacher with a pupil who hadn't quite reached the point yet. His soft eyes had something in them, a fire, a spark. What was the old man playing at?

  "It doesn't mean anything," Ryker said. "Maybe the people who have won it so far didn't care about their families? Maybe they got distracted by the money and power."

  "All of them?" Atticus said.

  "What are you trying to say?" Ryker rounded on him.

  Atticus dropped his gaze to the metal ball in his hands. "Nothing. I'm not saying anything. I just think it's strange."

  "Well it's not," Ryker said. "People do things like that all the time."

  Atticus nodded and said nothing more.

  Kari itched to probe deeper. She got the distinct sensation that Atticus wanted to say more, that he was hiding something, or knew something, but felt that he couldn't tell them. That made her uncomfortable. But she couldn't exactly start an interrogation now, not when they could be boarded, killed, or destroyed at any second.

  She turned to the market and a familiar shadow caught her attention. A few moments later, Wren entered the circle of light cast by Ghost's open door. Her black cloak hid most of her, but a brief gust of wind caught it and tugged it back from her side. Kari was sure she saw a flash of red on Wren's hands.

  Kari's stomach dropped and a sour taste filled her mouth: job done. Wren had killed someone while she and Ryker were standing there. Who was it? Did they deserve it? Did Wren care?

  She would have stopped Wren and asked, but a sudden commotion erupted at the other side of the markets. A second later, a ball of fire burst into the night, casting a sharp, orange light across the market and the people gathered there.

  Their dirt-stained faces turned up to the glow, mouths opening, and then the market erupted into a seething mass of confusion. People pushed and shoved against each other to get to the protection of the tunnels and somewhere someone was screaming.

  "Close it up!" Kari said.

  She turned away from the open door and sprinted through Ghost's narrow corridors to the pilot's pod. She hit the ignition switch and pulled hard on the controls.

  Ghost's engines rumbled and a blast of hot air shot out from the base, lifting pieces of rubbish that flew across Ghost's front window. The rumbling growl of the engine vibrated through the ship, setting Kari's teeth on edge.

  She had to trust that Alec had set the distraction up properly and that it would keep the agents distracted, otherwise they'd shoot Ghost out of the sky.

  The controls rattled and shook in her hands but she held tighter and pulled. They lurched upward and the momentum pushed Kari deep into her chair. Then the ground jerked away, shrinking beneath them as they shot toward the cloud cover.

  She heard cursing and the sound of someone falling but she ignored it. Atticus or Ryker or whoever it was could stand a few bruises if it meant they survived. She tried not to think about what came after; about how the Imperium had their ID and they'd only be safe if they tried to make a break for the next system, and that even then they'd probably die.

  The engine warning lights flashed red. Wisps of cloud rushed past the front window like the tattered remnants of some massive cloak.

  Kari clenched her jaw and pushed Ghost to rise higher, faster.

  They broke through the upper clouds and burst out of atmosphere, into the star-splattered darkness beyond. Even then, Kari didn't ease the controls. She leaned forwar
d, as if that would help them move, and urged the old ship to move faster.

  She expected to see the incoming impact warning flare at any moment as the Imperium shot them out of the sky. Nothing.

  Kari's hands shook with the vibration of the controls and her heart pounded in her chest.

  Five minutes passed, then ten, and still no sign of shots or pursuit. They'd made it! They'd actually made it! Now they just had to keep flying, stay under the radar, and maybe, just maybe, they'd be safe.

  Kari was just about to relay the good news to the rest of the team when a sleek, black ship appeared in front of her as if by magic. She tried to swerve around it but Ghost's controls didn't respond.

  The reverse thrusters flared and Ghost came to a grinding halt just a few feet from the other ship. Now they were closer Kari recognized it: an Imperium stealth ship.

  Her skin went cold and a lump in her throat made it hard to breathe. They'd been waiting the whole time. They knew exactly what she was going to do and now...

  Two clamps extended out of the other ship and snapped around Ghost, drawing them closer, like some monster bringing prey toward its open mouth.

  Kari's hands dropped from the controls as she stared in mute horror.

  They were dead.

  After everything they'd done.

  They were dead.

  CHAPTER 16

  Ghost's sudden stop hurled Wren against the passage wall and a sharp pain went down her arm. What the hell was Kari doing?

  A few moments later something scraped against the outside of the ship, then came the hiss of an airlock. Wren didn't need any fancy equipment, she knew the sound of a docking mechanism. Whatever ridiculous plan Kari might have had, had failed.

  Wren sprinted toward Ghost's main entrance, pulling a knife from her belt as she went. Thumping footsteps behind her could only belong to Ryker, and behind him the lighter steps of Kari and Atticus.

  She arrived at the door just as the metal was wrenched sideways, warping and twisting out of shape. Bright light spilled through the gap, followed by two men in suits—the agents she'd seen talking to Kari back on Zenith. The front-most one forced his way through the gap, the front of his suit catching on the jagged edge of the door. He yanked it free, leaving a small square of white fabric dangling from the metal hook.

  He stomped into the passage and stood in front of Wren and the others, gun raised. His companion followed a few moments later.

  "We meet again," he said. "I see you picked up another passenger." He waved his gun at Wren. "Did the other two come back as well?"

  Wren adjusted her grip. If she moved fast, she might be able to get in beneath his gun and kill him but the other would have time to fire. Unease crept through Wren's stomach and an unbidden thought flared to life in her mind—she didn't want to die.

  Her heart clenched and she almost lost her grip on the knife. Such a thought was as close to sacrilege as a member of the Guild could come. What was wrong with her? What did it matter if she died? Atoms to atoms. But for the first time in her life, that thought provided little comfort. Going soft. She'd spent too much time with Kari and the other unblooded.

  "The other two stayed on Zenith," Kari said. She and Ryker had guns out and the passage buzzed with tension.

  "You won't mind if we have another look then?"

  "You already looked."

  The agent's face darkened and he took a step forward so that he stood just a few inches from Kari. "Listen here, you pathetic rebel scum. We will search this ship, hell, we'll blow it to pieces if we want, and you will stand there and thank us for it. Are we clear?"

  A small muscle in Kari's jaw pulsed. In the back of Wren's mind she noted that Kari should learn to control her expression better. So much could be read in her tiny movements, her fear, her anger.

  "Well?" the agent said.

  "You've already searched," Kari said. "Get off."

  The agent's hand moved so fast that even Wren had trouble following it, and a second later the barrel of his gun pressed against Kari's forehead. "You mean nothing to me. I would kill you without even thinking. So I would suggest you start cooperating."

  "Tuvo," the other agent said with a sideways glance.

  Tuvo pulled his gun away from Kari's head and stepped back.

  Wren kept her knife up, ready in case it was some kind of trick. Why wouldn't they shoot Kari? Hell, why hadn't they just blown the whole ship apart and been done with it? But of course… they didn't want to lose Piper and Ray. Such valuable assets were probably hard to replace. But if Kari put up too much resistance, they would start killing.

  Kari glowered at the two agents but took a step back and waved them down the corridor toward the rest of the ship. They brushed past, close enough that Wren could have plunged her knife into their hearts without stretching. They carried a smell with them—antiseptic and plastic, as if all the human elements had been washed and scrubbed away, leaving nothing but robots. They were human though, Wren could see the pulse of their hearts in the flutter at their throats and could hear their even breathing. Besides, she didn't think even the most advanced AI on Albion could come close to this.

  The agents cast cursory glances over the sleeping pods then stepped into the dining room.

  "Everyone inside," Tuvo said.

  They shuffled to the middle of the room, all of them still holding weapons. Wren could have kicked Atticus for the way his eyes deliberately avoided looking at the floor panel beneath Tuvo's foot: the one that hid Piper and Ray. Didn't he know that not looking at something could be just as bad as staring?

  "Look," Tuvo said. "We've got places to be, so I'm going to spell it out for you, we want your sister and the other freak you stole. Give them back and we'll make sure your deaths are quick and relatively painless. Make this difficult for us, and we'll make it difficult for you."

  "I told you," Kari said. "My sister died years ago. We don't know anything about a facility."

  "I don't believe you." Tuvo's voice echoed around the dining room, rousing Rusty who blinked, took in the scene, then lifted the coolant to his lips and took a long drink.

  Wren had never said so, but she despised the robot. So what if he'd seen death, hadn't they all? And so what if he'd fought on the front line of a failed revolution? All she saw was a useless pile of metal. If he hated living so much, why didn't he just turn himself off?

  All those thoughts passed through Wren's head in an instant while her main focus stayed on the agents.

  "You've searched our ship," Kari said. "They're not here."

  "If they're not here," Tuvo said. "Then there's no reason to spare this ship."

  "We could just kill you," Kari said, hefting her gun and pointing it at Tuvo.

  A sharp smile split Tuvo's face. He held up his wrist where a red light blinked beneath his skin. "Life sensor with a connection back to our ship. If anything happens to us, you'll have a hundred agents swarming all over you in seconds."

  Wren had to admit it was clever—the agents had all but guaranteed their own safety. It didn't leave many options.

  "This is your last chance," Tuvo said. "Tell us where they are, or we start killing."

  Wren glanced at Kari out of the corner of her eye. The captain was blinded by love for her sister, she'd never reveal the truth. But Wren could, and she would too, if it meant that she might survive. She refused to die like this, for someone else's cause. But even if she did tell the agents where Piper was, there was no guarantee that the agents wouldn't kill them all anyway. She needed the upper hand, needed some kind of bargaining chip. What if—

  Tuvo moved like a viper, his free hand lashing out, snatching hold of Wren's wrist and dragging her in close to his body, his gun pressed against her temple.

  The cool metal of the barrel provided a sharp point of focus for Wren and stopped her instant reaction, which would have been to twist out of his hold and plunge her knife into his chest. She couldn't risk it. His finger only had to slip a few inches, the gun woul
d go off, and she'd be dead.

  Damn he'd moved fast, faster than most humans. Perhaps Piper and Ray weren't the only ones that had been modified by the Imperium? There had to be some explanation, because Wren refused to believe that she'd been snatched by some ordinary man.

  "Last chance," Tuvo said, pressing the gun harder against Wren's temple. "Where are they?"

  Wren bit her lip. Piper and Ray were right beneath her feet. Perhaps if she told the agents then they would be distracted long enough for her to break away.

  Her eyes searched the room for anything to help and her gaze caught on Kari who stared at her with wide eyes and shook her head an inch to the right. She may as well have been speaking out loud—Wren knew exactly what she meant—don't tell them. That was fine for Kari, she had a reason for protecting her sister, even if Wren couldn't quite understand it. But what did Wren get out of it? A plasma blast to the head, that's what.

  Wren opened her mouth to tell the agents when something heaved beneath her feet. Both she and Tuvo stumbled sideways, off-balance, and Wren's training took over. She went with the momentum, breaking free of Tuvo and getting out of the way of his gun. It fired a second later, leaving a smoking hole in the ceiling.

  Wren crouched low and lunged forward, plunging her knife into Tuvo's stomach and wrenching it upward into his heart. He gasped, tried to breathe. Blood trickled out of his mouth, down his chin. The gun fell from his hand and clattered to the floor.

  Wren stared into his eyes, making sure he'd crossed the line into certain death, while the rest of the room raged about her.

  She'd kept Tuvo's body between herself and the other agent, but as Tuvo died she saw Piper and Ray burst out of the hole in the floor.

  The second agent spun, gun aimed at Piper.