“Since that day, I’ve been wastin’ away here,” Pattie said. “It’s like I always used to say, ‘I ain’t got the luck of the Irish, but I do have the temper.’ ” The burly man’s mood seemed to soften. “Uh, Suzie-Q told me about Captain McKillip. I’ll really miss old Pa. He brought us all together and saved the Union. How did Ma take the news?”
Steiner took a deep breath, then explained all of the events that had transpired following the destruction of the Valiant, including how Judith McKillip had been killed by a burglar on the same day and how he had attempted to murder Admiral Jamison for the sake of justice. Pattie turned bright red. He muttered some curses under his breath.
“I wish you had killed that moneygrubbing, two-timing backstabber. And to think, we might have helped that crook get into power. It’s damned ironic, after everything we did to save everyone’s butts, we get thrown into prison.” His arm came up to Steiner’s shoulder. “You and I are all that’s left of the Cyrian Defense.”
“Maybe. It’s possible Isaac Steele may still be teaching at the academy.”
Pattie laughed. “Good old smarty-pants. Even as irritatin’ as he was, part of me misses him, too—only a tiny part. And, don’t you ever tell him I said that.”
Steiner smiled.
Ten minutes later, when they reached the grassy field, where the visiting ships were lined up in rows, Steiner caught sight of a hunched-over person appearing from behind a row of sleek, elegant yachts, probably belonging to some of the admirals. The man wore a gray-and-blue outfit.
A P.A.V. uniform.
The man walked hunched over, carrying a large bulk wrapped in a blanket.
It must be Pearce trying to smuggle something onto the shuttle.
“Watch my back, Pattie.” Steiner drew his weapon and sprinted over to the man carrying the concealed package, while staying out of his field of vision. When he was close enough, he grabbed the man’s shoulders and spun him around. The bundle crashed to the ground. Steiner found himself staring at Rick Mason. One of the blanket’s corners flipped off the fallen load, revealing an energy coil hidden underneath.
Pattie ran up, winded. Obviously, he wasn’t in the shape he once was. “One of your convicts, I suppose?”
Mason glanced at Pattie with uncertainty, then promptly recovered the device from the ground. “Ironhand, you almost ruined everything.”
Steiner holstered his weapon. “What are you doing, Rick?”
“What’s it look like? I’m requisitioning a replacement. Let’s get out of here before its owner finds it missing.” After picking the bundle up, Mason continued his rapid pace forward.
“This is illegal,” Steiner said, jogging to keep up with him, leaving Pattie behind again.
“What are they gonna to do to me? Put me in prison? I’d be safer there. I wouldn’t have to risk my life flying the faulty machines provided for us. Besides, admirals can get new parts. We can’t.”
Mason had a point, but that still didn’t excuse him from leaving his post. “You were supposed to guard the shuttle.”
“I got that covered.”
They continued until they were in sight of their craft. Bricket and Pearce were already loading the shipment of liquors on board.
Steiner drew Mason back. “I thought you had it covered. The two of them have been here for who-knows-how-long without supervision.”
“Trust me. My spy approaches.”
A small boy crawled out from under a neighboring ship.
Mason set down the concealed coil and handed the youngster several coins. “What have you got for me?”
The child smiled. “The men with the bottles brought guns, a whole box of them.”
“Guns?” Steiner breathed the word in disbelief.
“Uh-huh.” The boy pointed at Mason. “I think they were going to shoot you.”
“Me?” the pilot gasped.
The boy bobbed his head with excitement. “Uh-huh. The skinny one walked all around the ship with a gun, calling for you. He saw me, but I ran away.”
Steiner stepped back, a sinking sensation building in his stomach. If Mason had remained at his post, he would already be dead. Steiner gave the boy all the money in his pockets. “You were very brave. Thank you.”
The youngster beamed as he accepted the gift. “Are you going to shoot them now? Can I watch?”
Steiner paused, unsure whether to laugh or be horrified. “No, you’d better go home now.”
With a frown, the boy ran off as Pattie walked up, breathing heavily. “Was that one of your crew, too?”
“No, that was our intel. A couple of my men over in that scuttle bucket are planning a welcoming party for us. They brought their own guns.”
“I can’t believe they were going to cancel me out, too,” Mason muttered.
“You wouldn’t have any more pistols stashed anywhere, would ya?” Pattie asked.
Steiner drew his AT-7. “No, but I’ll have one for you in a moment. Both of you stay here out of sight until I get the situation under control.” With that, he darted to the shadow of the next vessel in the row of ships, crawling under its hull between the landing-gear pods dug into the grass. He paused until both Bricket and Pearce had hauled crates into the shuttle, then sprinted from his hiding place, gun in hand, making a dash for the side of the small craft. Reaching his destination without being seen, he flattened himself along the side of the vessel near the open hatch.
Bricket came out first. When he spotted Steiner, his bearded mouth dropped open. Pearce exited next, caught sight of the bartender’s gaze, and followed it to the muzzle of Steiner’s pistol. His hand flinched toward his belt.
“Do it,” Steiner bellowed. “I’ll get a lot of pleasure out of burning you through.”
Pearce grinned innocently, raising his hands in the air. “Is something wrong, Captain?”
“Let me see your gun.”
“What gun?”
“I’d just as soon pick it off your dead body.”
The smile disappeared from Pearce’s face. He slowly lifted his uniform’s jacket to reveal a pistol tucked under his belt.
“Drop it.”
The man did as he was told.
“Both of you, on the ground, facedown,” Steiner ordered.
Bricket complied immediately, practically falling into the grass. Pearce glared as he slowly lowered himself also.
Steiner retrieved the discarded weapon.
Mason stumbled out of hiding and hurried into the shuttle, carrying the energy coil with him. Pattie walked calmly, grinning at having enjoyed the show. “If you need anyone to beat their heads into the ground, let me know.”
Kneeling beside the bartender, Steiner felt for any concealed weapons. “Bricket, I can’t understand why you became involved in this,” he said, after his search came up empty.
“Frank was going to kill me if I didn’t help him. I had no choice.”
“There’s always a choice. You made the wrong one.”
Pattie set his weight down on Pearce’s upper body, digging the man’s face into the ground. “You must be ‘Frank,’ ” Pattie said, letting out a loud fart. “Nice to meet ya.” The Saint laughed, slapping his knee. “This little trip promises to be more fun than I thought.”
Steiner handed him Pearce’s weapon. “Welcome aboard, Saint Pattie.”
“Now ya done it,” the burly man bellowed with a grin. “I’ll have to build that confessional for sure.”
After Steiner found some cord, he gave it to Pattie, who tied up both of the prisoners. As Steiner went back to help Mason with the energy coil, he caught sight of the small boy watching from underneath a neighboring vessel. He exchanged smiles with the youngster to show his gratitude.
Ten minutes later, they lifted off. Steiner sat in the copilot’s chair while Pattie, armed with a pistol, sat in the back with the prisoners, glaring at them menacingly. At one point, he snarled sharply at Bricket, causing the bartender to flinch in fear, then Pattie burst into boisterous l
aughter. When they reached orbit twenty minutes later, they began their approach to the P.A.V.
“Suzie-Q dug up a Peacemaker for you to use?” Pattie asked. “Brings back the good old days.”
Steiner smiled. “I think sentimentality had a little to do with her choice.”
“You both served on one these old wrecks before?” Mason asked.
Steiner shook his head. “Absolutely not, but we did borrow one for a joyride.”
Pattie bellowed a laugh in response. “Right under the enemy’s nose, we did.”
“Captain,” Pearce suddenly spoke out, “none of you are going to make it back on board alive.”
Pattie’s mood instantly soured, and he thrust the muzzle of his gun into Pearce’s gut.
Steiner swiveled the copilot’s seat around. “What do you mean by that?”
Pearce grinned, which caused Pattie’s muzzle to dig deeper. “I wasn’t working alone,” the man replied, gritting his teeth from the apparent pain.
Steiner pointed to Bricket. “You had him.”
“The idiot was only an excuse to get to the planet surface. I have an associate on the P.A.V. expecting these weapons. He is watching us right now. If I don’t give him a predetermined signal, he will open fire on us.”
Mason paled.
“I can still signal him before he does,” Pearce added.
“Untie me.”
“No deal,” Steiner replied.
“Ironhand,” Mason cut in. “We can’t outmaneuver the Marauder’s guns.”
“We won’t have to. I planned for something like this.”
“That’s what I love about you, Slugger,” Pattie said. “You always got a backup plan.”
Mason eyed Steiner curiously. “Is that why you wouldn’t let Sam come with us?”
“Uh-huh.” Steiner imitated the youngster who had aided them. He checked the timepiece on his wrist. “Sam should have disconnected the power supply to all the pulse cannons a half hour ago.”
SAM picked his way through the electrical generators located above the engine room, searching for the relays. Steiner had instructed him to cut the power to all the gunnery ports an hour after they had left so that no one would accidentally discover it was off. It had taken him longer than he expected to sneak up the maintenance stairway without being seen. When he arrived, he found the massive upper level to be filled with all kinds of crackling electrical equipment.
Lightning flashed from a nearby conductor post, startling him. He moved on, determined to fulfill his promise, even if he was a little late.
Finally, he found the row of relay levels. One of them read PULSE CANNONS. Taking a firm grip on it, he pulled down.
AN energy bolt shot across the shuttle’s bow. Steiner gasped. The blast originated from one of the Marauder’s gunnery ports. How could that be? Sam should have already cut the power—unless someone had stopped him.
“That was intended as a warning, Captain,” Pearce said. “There’s still time to reconsider.”
Pattie glanced at Steiner as if looking for what to do next. Steiner swiveled his chair to the front. “Rick, try some kind of evasive maneuver.”
“Evasive maneuver?” the pilot exclaimed. “In a scuttle bucket?”
Another bolt flashed by on the port side of the tiny craft. “That was closer than the first,” Mason said. “Where is that kid?”
Steiner wondered the same thing.
DESPITE Sam’s efforts, the lever refused to budge. He kicked at it desperately in hopes of loosening it.
An alarm sounded. Static discharges erupted from a giant assembly ten meters away. Someone must be firing at the shuttle.
Panic swept through him. His friends might already be dead. It was all his fault for not coming here sooner.
Viciously, he pried at the jammed lever. With a loud wail, he threw all his weight against it.
WHEN Mason shoved the control stick forward, the shuttle dove toward the planet, evading two more shots from the Marauder.
“Pearce, your life is in danger too,” Steiner shouted. “What’s the signal?”
Pattie removed the muzzle from his prisoner’s gut and pressed it into the man’s temple.
Pearce closed his eyes and gritted his teeth but didn’t answer.
Steiner glared at his accomplice. “Bricket?”
“I don’t know anything,” the bartender whimpered.
The hull jolted as an energy bolt grazed it. The power systems started fluctuating.
“No, not now,” Mason cried out.
The interior blacked out. The engines died.
Steiner’s stomach tightened as the shuttle tumbled out of control. He dug his fingers into the armrest, trying to keep his eyes off the spinning panorama through the front window.
Bricket screamed from the darkened passenger compartment.
Mason cursed as he turned on the emergency lighting. He opened a maintenance panel under the main controls. “I should have stolen a whole shuttle instead of just an energy coil.”
The Marauder spun into view of the cockpit window. The gunnery port was silent.
Steiner looked back at Pearce, who appeared equally mystified.
“Why haven’t they dusted us yet?” Mason asked as he worked under the console. “Nobody can be that bad a shot.”
“Sam must have cut the power,” Steiner replied.
“If that’s the case, I owe that kid some real flying lessons.”
The electrical systems sprang to life. With a sigh of relief, Mason propelled the shuttle forward, wheeled it about, raced to the exterior docking assembly under the belly of the Marauder . From that angle, the active gun couldn’t hit them. Once he had the craft positioned inside the claw, the engineers, inside the landing bay, started the retrieval process.
Fifteen minutes later, Steiner exited the shuttle into the bay. The engineers were waiting, full of questions but no answers. After shoving his prisoners out of the hatch of the tiny vessel, Pattie introduced himself to the engineers as an old friend of their captain and began to explain what had happened on the planet surface. More concerned about what had happened to Sam, Steiner went and opened the door of the landing bay. Sam stood on the opposite side, tears running down his face.
“You’re alive?” the boy exclaimed.
“Didn’t you cut the power?” Steiner asked.
Sam shook his head. “I couldn’t move the lever.”
Steiner stared at him, dumbfounded. If Sam hadn’t saved them, who had?
His comlink beeped.
“Steiner here.”
“Captain,” Security Chief Richards said, “we have a murdered crewman in one of the gunnery ports, the same one that fired on your shuttle.”
“How was he killed?”
“You should see this for yourself, sir.”
“Send Eddie or Hulsey down here to escort two prisoners to the brig. I’ll meet you at your location as soon as I can.”
After Bricket and Pearce were taken away, Steiner secured the bay, then left with Pattie to see the murder victim. He smelled burnt flesh as he neared the designated gunnery port. When he arrived, he found a virtual bloodbath. The targeting chair had a body in it that couldn’t be recognized because it had been shredded by energy bolts.
“Holy Mother of God,” Pattie muttered under his breath, crossing himself.
Wounds like that couldn’t have been caused by conventional pistols. Only high-powered assault rifles were capable of that kind of damage—the kind of weapons that were only found in the armory. No one could have smuggled one on board. Even Suzanne’s weak security measures would have detected it.
Why had it been used to save Steiner rather than kill him? Who would want to protect him?
Steiner stared up into the camera in the upper corner of the corridor. It was fixed directly on him.
CHAPTER 11
STEINER stood alone inside the brig, staring through the glass portal of the detention cell, which held Bricket. The bartender lay stretched acro
ss the cot, with his back against the wall, staring into nothingness. When Steiner had first met him, he had thought him to be a hard, unshakable person, but now he saw quite the contrary, a man who had lost his most-treasured possession, terrified of what fate awaited him.
Pattie burst around the corner, causing Steiner’s hand to reach for his holster. The big man had changed into a gray-and-blue P.A.V. uniform, with the sleeves rolled up, proudly displaying the Celtic crosses on each biceps. “I just saw Archimedes, and by the Blessed Virgin, I can’t believe my eyes.”
“You mean Maxwell Tramer?”
“Yes, of course, Maxie. We used to call him Archimedes, way back before he became that godforsaken creature.”
“When did you have a chance to talk to him on the Valiant ? You weren’t even in the same department.”
“Everyone has to eat, and I made it my point to meet everyone when they did. Maxie got into making weapons because he admired this Greek fellow named Archimedes. Apparently this fellow could walk around in front of a large group of soldiers, and they would be terrified of him because he created inventions that could defeat entire armies.”
Their discussion must have been heard by Bricket in the cell because he was sitting up now on the cot, staring at the glass portal in the door.
Pattie glanced inside. “What are ya goin’ to do about the pansy?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Remember how many pansies got killed on Day of Betrayal for followin’ the leader, and how many good men they took with ’em? Space him, and be done with it.”
A beep from the comlink on his belt sounded before Pattie finished.
“I can’t do that,” Steiner replied before reaching for the device.
Pattie frowned. “It’s your funeral.”
“Steiner here.”
“Captain,” Richards said. “We’ve completed a search of the crew quarters but couldn’t find any trace of an assault rifle.”
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