The Blarmling Dilemma (Hearts in Orbit Book 1)

by S. C. Mitchell

  Heat rose in Rigel’s cheeks. He moved on.

  He continued to work his way through the passage, checking as he went for anything that looked like an exit door. He was pretty sure there was no way out by going back.

  In the darkness ahead he sensed more than saw the passageway come to an end. Searching the walls with his hands he found a section that moved when he pushed on it. Light streamed in, and Rigel moved forward, finding himself on a balcony overlooking a chamber.

  Voices raised in argument caused him to duck behind a railing. The only way forward was down a stairway to his left that appeared to lead right into the room below.

  “The girl has a bounty on her head of fifty thousand galactic credits, and her daddy’s rich. He’d probably pay twice that for her safe return.” They had to be talking about Phoebe.

  “United Research and Technology also wants those creatures back, unharmed if possible, but they’d even pay for just the bodies,” another gruff voice ventured.

  “Where are they now?” That voice was familiar—Captain Djon le Piere.

  Rigel risked a peek over the railing.

  The room below held a large oval conference table.

  A score of rough looking pirates circled the raised plastoid slab, with Captain le Piere at its head. Le Piere’s second in command, Carter Pullman, gestured toward one of the windows. “They’ve fallen in with the local backtechers.”

  Good.

  At least Phoebe, Oolo and Lart weren’t alone out there. But would people with no technology be of any help to them. They’d broken this planets prime laws just landing here.

  “Well it’s time we addressed that problem anyway.” Le Piere’s eyes scanned the table as if sizing up the group. “Go get that girl and those animals, then take care of the backtechers . . . permanently.”

  There was an uneasy silence at the table until one of the pirates stood. “You mean kill them?”

  “You have a problem with that, Mathus?” Le Piere’s eyes narrowed.

  “There’s old people and little kids in that village.”

  Le Piere rose to confront the man across the table. “Are you telling me you have a problem following my orders?”

  The man began to tremble. “But . . . kids?”

  In the blink of an eye le Piere drew his blaster and shot. The ray beam passed through the man’s chest, taking a chunk out of the wall behind him.

  As the body slumped in a bloody puddle to the floor, le Piere again eyed the assemblage. “Anyone else having a problem following my orders?”

  Most seemed tentative, but all heads at the table began to shake slowly side to side.

  His gut rolling, Rigel reached for his blaster. He had to do something. The pirate captain had just ordered the extermination of a group of helpless people. Thumbing the switch from stun to kill, he stood and took aim on Djon le Piere.

  He pulled the trigger and . . . nothing happened.

  Looking down quickly, Rigel noted the display flashing 0% charge. Looking back up, he saw every set of eyes around the table on him.

  “Frack!”

  Every pirate had a blaster at his or her side, and most reached for them.

  “Kill him!” Le Piere shouted, bringing his own blaster to bear.

  The heat of the plasma ray seared Rigel’s sleeve and dug a burning trench across the skin of his forearm, as he ducked back down behind the railing. He covered the wound with his opposite hand, while eyeing the wall through which he’d entered the balcony. The doorway back into the passage was invisible. The wall appeared solid.

  Footsteps pounded the stairs as Rigel holstered his now worthless blaster. Striving to calm the panic that threatened to rise, he visualized what he’d seen of the room below, looking for an escape. The room was bare for the most part, lit by a chandelier over the large conference table. The doorway to the room was to the right, and windows lined the wall to his left.

  A desperate plan took form.

  Rigel pulled himself up, hopping to the top of the railing, then leapt out into the room toward the chandelier. As blaster bolts crisscrossed the air around him, he grasped the lighting fixture and swung his legs right, taking him in a wide arc around the room toward the windows on his left.

  Stars glittered through the transparent window and reflected off a grassy field outside. Rigel thanked the galactic gods he was on a backtech world. The window would be silicon glass and not steel-glass.

  Shards tinkled around him as he burst through the window and dropped the one story, rolling to cushion his fall on the soft lawn below. He welcomed the verdant scent of the grass as he tumbled, somersaulting to his feet, before making a mad dash for the tree line. He ran a random pattern as plasma bolts peppered the ground on either side of him.

  Luck or cosmic karma was with him. He dove untouched behind a large tree and there, sitting right where he’d hidden it the day before, sat his hovercycle.

  Chapter 27

  Phoebe handed the first batch of fifty exploding arrows to Mirin. Ryan and Tucker still stood wide-eyed in front of the reconfigured food processor watching the arrows extrude one at a time.

  “These should get you started,” Phoebe said to Mirin. “Feel free to waste a few in practice and training. With what tucker brought me, I have enough synganite to make a lot more.”

  Mirin accepted the bundle of arrows with a huge smile. “I don’t know how we can ever repay you for this. Perhaps our forefathers were wrong to backtech.”

  Phoebe shook her head. “You had a wonderful, pastoral planet here before the pirates took it from you. The galactic marshals should have protected you, and when Rigel and I get to a galactic security center, we’ll make sure Clarence O’Callaghan pays for his betrayal of your people.”

  It would be sweet justice to see the corrupt lawman brought up on charges.

  Phoebe sighed as reality intruded on her thoughts. She doubted she would see that happen. More than likely she’d be the one on trial if she survived at all. Arrows, even exploding arrows, against blasters and starships?

  There was so much that could go wrong with the plans they’d been making to defeat the pirates and reclaim the planet. In her heart, she worried strongly about Rigel. Where was he? What was he doing?

  Ryan and his people were getting ready to attack the castle. The damage from the arrowheads would be huge, and indiscriminant. Anyone could be caught in an explosion or stray blaster ray. It would be all-out war once they attacked the castle, and Rigel would be on the wrong side. There was no way to protect him, or even warn him.

  She missed Rigel so deeply, her stomach hurt when she thought about him. Why couldn’t the galaxy just go away and leave them alone together?

  To distract herself she turned her thoughts to her other project. The spybot returned, and she sifted through the data. As she expected, the bot had located a brand new plastoid domed building, far out of reach of Ryan and his people. The coordinates were deep in the jungle to the south. She could easily fly to it in The Blarmlings’ Hope, though destroying it was another thing all together.

  Ray shielding protected the building from attacks from above, and strong titanium and plastoid construction made penetration even at ground level a chore. Still, it looked like it would have to be taken out from the inside, and she had no idea from the scans what internal protections it would have.

  She’d arranged a worktable in the storage compartment, and laid out the components she needed for eight explosive charges. She hoped that would be enough. She’d need all of Rigel’s plastine and could amp up the destructive power with some of the extra synganite.

  Three hours later she could barely focus her eyes, but the charges were ready. Phoebe wandered into the head to splash water on her face. Night had stretched into early morning, and she’d been awake too many hours. The be
d looked so inviting as she passed it.

  Maybe just a quick nap.

  Ryan and Tucker were watching the food processor and stacking the arrows as they extracted. She really didn’t need to be there, and it would be hours before the machine ran out of resources.

  She crawled into bed, and pulled the covers over her, burying her face in the pillow. It all smelled of Rigel—musky and sensuous. As she drifted off to sleep her mind filled with the memory of his hard body against hers, the feel of his arms around her, and the sensuous way his lips roamed her body.

  Rigel reached The Blarmlings’ Hope before the pirates, but he heard the whine of ion engines in the sky behind him. Le Piere’s forces were on the move.

  He left the hovercycle in the clearing and pounded up the entry ramp. “Phoebe!”

  Two strangers in rough spun clothing looked up from the food producer that was extruding a long shaft that didn’t look appetizing, or even edible. The taller, leaner of the two pulled what looked like an ancient longbow from his shoulder and fitted an arrow to the drawstring. “Who are you?”

  Rigel pulled his useless blaster. Maybe he could bluff his way out of this. “Who are you, and what are you doing on my ship?”

  The man’s shorter, stouter companion put a hand on his shoulder. “This must be Phoebe’s companion, Rigel Antares.”

  From the cell behind the two men Oolo tottered out, waving her hands and clicking and whistling wildly.

  Stop it. Phoebe sleeps. Do not wake her.

  The Blarmling planted herself in front of Rigel, and put her hands on her hips. These friends. Put gun away.

  Rigel holstered his blaster. “Are you the backtechers?”

  The man with the bow lowered his weapon, nodding.

  “Well, find something to hold on to and show me how to get to your village,” Rigel said, rushing toward the pilot’s seat.

  Rigel, Phoebe sleeping. Oolo was insistent.

  “Then go wake her!” Rigel hit the control panel button to close the door and retract the ramp.

  Oolo must have finally caught up with what was going on in Rigel’s head, because suddenly the Blarmling threw up her hands and ran toward the sleeping chamber. Oh my!

  Rigel initialized an area scan, and found four starships and six ground vehicles heading their way. “The pirates have decided to exterminate your people. Where’s your village?”

  “East, twenty clicks,” the taller man said.

  Rigel lifted off and turned The Blarmlings’ Hope east, scanning ahead and finding a cluster of human life forms. He had no idea how he was going to help these people, but he knew he had to try.

  The sound of the firing ion drives dragged Phoebe from her erotic dreams. Once again she’d been naked and weightless in Rigel’s arms. His passionate kisses peppered her lips, neck, and breasts. Through the groggy haze, she felt the ship take to the air as he vanished. Dreams receded as reality intruded.

  What the—?

  She pulled herself up to a sitting position just as Oolo scampered into the room waving her arms and screeching urgently.

  “I’m coming. I’m coming.” Phoebe tried to reassure the Blarmling.

  Who was flying the ship? Certainly Ryan and Tucker didn’t possess the necessary skills. That left . . .

  “Rigel?”

  She sighed when she saw him in the pilot’s seat, he was back, safe and sound. But a glance at Oolo’s whirling purple eyes told her something was very wrong. “What’s going on?”

  She came up behind Rigel and checked the recent scans on the view screen. A chill pierced the pit of her stomach. There was an army coming against them.

  “The pirates are coming for you and the Blarmlings, and to exterminate the backtechers.” Rigel’s visage was grim. “I don’t know how we’re going to help them, let alone ourselves.”

  Phoebe’s mind was clearing from the fog of sleep. She remembered the fifty arrows she’d sent ahead to the village with Mirin, and saw the new stack sitting by the food extractor.

  “We’re in better shape than you know,” she said, looking over the tactical map Rigel had just brought up.

  She pointed to a field next to the village. “Land there and let Ryan and Tucker out.”

  Phoebe handed the extruded arrows to Ryan. “Distribute these and get your people into defensive positions as soon as possible.”

  She felt like she was in the middle of a galactic combat simulation. As a teen, she’d spent days playing the tactical computer simulation games, directing her pretend armies against alien invasions on a vast scale. She’d even played old world, twenty-first century battles, using the ancient hovertanks and power armored troops. She always felt she had a good grasp of the tactical when she’d played. But this would be no game.

  In her mind she’d been going over the attack on Shirewood Castle, planning tactics. She’d sent a spy drone out to survey the grounds, and shared maps and tactics with Ryan and Tucker. They seemed eager to implement her attack ideas.

  Now the war had come to them. Were they ready? This was no simulation. There were real lives on the line. They’d have to be ready.

  Ryan accepted the arrows. “Okay. As soon as we clean up here, we’ll move on the castle immediately. Take the rest by surprise.”

  “Good,” Phoebe assured him. “Remember to leave one ship untouched. We’ll need that. I’ll do my part, as we planned.”

  What?

  Rigel couldn’t believe his ears. They were planning to take bows and swords against starships and blasters. And they were planning on winning!

  “Phoebe, you can’t be serious. We need to evacuate these people. Find them someplace safe to hide.” He brought the ship in for a landing on the field Phoebe had indicated earlier. He opened the door and extended the ramp. The two backtechers left with their arms loaded with what Rigel now identified as arrows.

  He swiveled in the command chair to confront Phoebe. Her hair was disheveled, and there were dark rings under her eyes. Still, she was so beautiful, she took his breath away.

  “What do we do, Phoebe? They’re going to be massacred.”

  A half smile graced one side of her perfectly kissable lips. Her eyes brightened. “I don’t think so, lover.”

  She pushed his shoulder, nudging him out of the chair. “You’re out of the loop. The balance of power is about to shift. Stand back and watch.”

  Phoebe seemed to glow with confidence. Rigel couldn’t help but smile. It was crazy, but he stood and let her take the command chair. Her confidence gave him renewed hope. As the ship lifted off, Rigel plugged his blaster battery into the charging station. There wouldn’t be time for a full charge, but he’d feel better with a weapon that could fire off a few rounds at his side.

  The Blarmlings’ Hope hovered in position east of the village, just above the tree line, in full sight of the four advancing starships. Phoebe brought up the front and side deflector shields. The back deflector was still offline. They’d be dead if they had to run. Even still, the other shields would only withstand a few hits.

  Rigel saw the scanner picking up weapon lock-ons from the other ships. Their main directive was to take Phoebe and the Blarmlings. The pirates would do that first, then swing back to finish off the backtechers.

  As the pirates flew over the village, Rigel noted teams of archers aiming arrows at the ships. What the hell were they doing? What possible effect could arrows have on a starship? They’d just bounce off, no matter how many hit. This was ridiculous.

  Someone must have issued a command to fire, as all the archers fired at once. Streams of shafts launched toward the starcraft. Rigel watched, waiting for the arrows to ricochet off the ships’ titanium plating, but they didn’t.

  With a resounding detonation the four starships disintegrated into shrapnel, just as the grou
nd transport broke through the tree line. Rigel could almost feel the pirates’ jaws dropping. Hell, his mouth was wide open in surprise. “Exploding arrows?”

  “Synganite,” Phoebe retorted.

  “I’ll be damned.” Rigel’s respect grew for the woman he loved, and for these tenacious people.

  “Time to help out,” she said, and The Blarmlings’ Hope streaked forward, strafing the ground around the invading transports. At the same time the archers redirected their arrow fire on the vehicles. Explosions rocked the forest below, and desperate pirates tried to pull back and flee.

  “How’s it feel to be on the other side, bastards,” Phoebe crowed triumphantly.

  Rigel had never seen Phoebe so cocky. He found he liked it. His heart soared with pride at what she’d accomplished with these people in so short a time.

  Below, pirates dove from burning transports, threw down their weapons, and raised their hands hoping for mercy where they’d been prepared to show none. To the backtecher’s credit, they held their fire, and took the pirates prisoner.

  A few were left back to guard, while the bulk of the backtechers headed toward Shirewood Castle.

  Phoebe turned The Blarmlings’ Hope south, and headed away.

  “Where are you going?” Rigel asked. “Aren’t we going to help them take the castle?”

  Phoebe shook her head. “They can handle it alone. We have another mission. We’ll double back and check on Ryan and his people after, but if we can accomplish our mission, I doubt they’ll need our help.”