Zakota

by Ruby Lionsdrake

  Still holding her breath, Katie jammed her palm into the gel matrix. The shuttle dove to the deck, belly skipping off the edge of the alcove as the energy blast flashed by inches above them.

  Zakota fired again, taking the enemy vehicle full on. Metal melted like wax on a hot candle, and the craft slumped over next to its robotic buddy.

  Katie’s lungs were burning, so she drew in a tentative breath. She inhaled something. Oxygen, she hoped.

  Zakota looked over at her.

  “Glad to have you firing,” Katie said, lifting them off the deck again so they would have room to maneuver if more 4x4s came through the hatchway.

  “Glad to have you piloting. We’re not a bad team.”

  “Though we still haven’t gotten much of a chance to race.”

  “Maybe on the way out.” Zakota grinned over at her, but his grin was short-lived as he looked down at all the flashing alarms. “Oxygen is replenishing, but that first hit did some damage. A couple of interior systems have shorted out, and—”

  “Look,” Katie blurted, flinging her finger toward the hatchway.

  Something else was coming in. No, not something. Someone. Zi’i warriors.

  Four of the big, shaggy, four-legged aliens loped in, their bodies reminding Katie of both apes and wolves, but much larger than either. All four of them walked on three legs and carried weapons with their fourth legs. Or were those arms? They seemed like both.

  “Those look like grenade launchers,” she said. “Firing.”

  “Wait!” Zakota lunged over and blocked her reach. “Take us into the shaft, as if we’re fleeing. Force them to check out the other shuttle.”

  “What if all they do is blow it up?” Katie asked, though she obeyed him, swooping toward the shaft.

  She flipped the shuttle so that they backed out instead of flying straight ahead.

  “I’m hoping they’ll be curious and check it out first,” Zakota said. “They may believe we have more of those warheads. Or if they think it’s abandoned, they might try to reclaim it.”

  Katie backed farther into the shaft. The alcove, the other shuttle, and the Zi’i disappeared from view, but the sensor display showed the aliens and what they were doing.

  “Orion, Menekrates,” Zakota said, “give me an update.”

  Two of the four Zi’i strode toward the open hatch in the shuttle. A third remained by the exit to the corridor. A fourth headed around the shuttle, probably to peer down the shaft and see if Katie and Zakota were still there.

  With a jolt, it occurred to her that the Zi’i weren’t wearing any kind of armor or spacesuits. How were they alive out there? Surely, they couldn’t stroll about in a vacuum for long.

  “Is there atmosphere out there now?” she asked, eyeing the weapons button.

  If that big brute peered down the shaft, she was going to take his head off.

  “There is,” Zakota said, sounding surprised. “They must have added some so they could come in. The forcefield we lowered to fly in must be back up again.” He leaned forward. “That’s right, my furry friends. Step into the shuttle. Damn, I was hoping more than two would go in.”

  The one Katie had been watching stuck his head—and his grenade launcher—over the lip of the alcove and into view.

  Katie hammered on the weapons. The Zi’i fired a split second after she did. Her beams lanced toward it, and she flew the shuttle up the instant they left their ports.

  The glowing green ball that the Zi’i launcher fired wasn’t quite like the grenades back home, but Katie was sure it was a powerful weapon. She blew out a relieved breath when it zipped past below the shuttle instead of striking them. She must have distracted the alien.

  Meanwhile, it jerked its head back out of the shaft, but not quickly enough. One of her beams caught it in the shoulder.

  The power of the blow ripped it from its perch. The alien flew ten feet, then tumbled into the maintenance shaft, its grenade launcher dropping from its grip.

  Katie thought about firing at it again, but a huge explosion flared behind them, light flashing and, for the first time, sound roaring toward them. A shockwave slammed into the back of the shuttle, tipping their butt end up.

  Katie manipulated the gel, trying to steady them, but the side of the shuttle scraped along the wall, the screech reaching them even inside.

  “I liked it better when we were in a vacuum and couldn’t hear anything,” she growled, again trying to steady them.

  Up ahead, the injured Zi’i leaped out of the maintenance shaft and into the alcove opposite the one with the shuttle. It disappeared from sight before Katie could fire again. She wasn’t even sure if she could fire. Another alarm was flashing, one right under the row of weapons buttons.

  “Zakota,” she said, “we may have—”

  A flash of orange light came from the alcove ahead, and Zakota barked a triumphant, “Hah!”

  It quickly faded, leaving darkness again. Katie had them steadied, floating a few meters above the bottom of the shaft, but the alarms flashing from all sides made her worry that they might not be spaceworthy anymore.

  “Hah?”

  Zakota pointed at the sensor display instead of the camera display. There was only one Zi’i showing up now.

  “Did you plant an explosive in your shuttle?” Katie asked.

  “I sure did. You stick your big furry snout in someone else’s ship, you get what you deserve.”

  “You weren’t worried about damaging the shuttle?”

  “Nah, those shuttles are sturdy, and it wasn’t one of Hierax’s secret weapons. Just a little BX-5. Enough to kill some nosy intruders.”

  “And spatter their guts all over the walls of the shuttle?”

  Zakota’s helmet swiveled toward her, and the most horrified expression came over his face. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “It’s going to be disgusting in there.”

  “Can I ride back with you?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  Zakota groaned. “This is why Ku handles weapons and blowing stuff up.”

  Worried about that last Zi’i, Katie nudged them toward the alcove again. The sensors showed it near the parked shuttle. Looking in on its comrades?

  As the alcove came into view, the big Zi’i was backing away from the shuttle. From the outside, the ship didn’t appear damaged, but Katie couldn’t help imagining the interior as she’d described it.

  The Zi’i lifted its grenade launcher toward the parked shuttle, and Katie jerked her own shuttle around, pointing the nose—and the weapons—toward the alien. It might want revenge on the craft that had slain its fallen comrades, but she and Zakota might need that shuttle.

  The Zi’i saw them and shifted targets. She struggled to aim at it with the other shuttle in the way, but fired anyway, afraid the alien would loose one of those grenades first. And it might have, but it was backing away as it aimed, and one of its paws caught on the 4x4 wreckage.

  Katie’s beams streaked toward it, one splashing off the top of their own shuttle. The other bounced off the wall.

  “Damn it,” she growled.

  Maybe she also needed Ku.

  But luck surprised her by coming into play. The beam that bounced off the wall bounced into the Zi’i and clipped it on the shoulder. It screamed in pain and raced out of the alcove.

  Katie fired again, trying to stop it from running off and warning its allies. But she was too late. The beams hit the wall to either side of the open hatch and bounced off, striking the ceiling and almost pummeling the shuttle again before losing energy.

  “All right,” Zakota said, resting a hand on her arm. “I don’t think you’re allowed to shoot anymore.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with my shooting.” If there was, she blamed it on the fact that she had to stretch her arm out of its socket to reach the weapons buttons.

  “You hit my shuttle.”

  “You blew up two aliens in your shuttle. That’s way worse.”

  “That won�
�t affect how it flies.”

  “Yeah, we’ll see how well you fly with bits of alien guts spattering down onto your shoulders.”

  Zakota reached up with swift movements and unfastened his helmet.

  Katie stared at him, her first thought that she’d managed to make him angry, and that he would throw down his helmet and gauntlets for some medieval fistfight.

  But when his face came into view, he was grinning. He tossed the helmet onto the console and startled her by pulling her close for a kiss.

  For a second, she merely stood there, but somehow, her hands came to rest on his shoulders, and she found herself leaning into his armored chest.

  “I had no idea talk of guts got you excited,” she murmured against his lips.

  “Women who don’t shy away from such talk do.” He wrapped his other arm around her, and she lamented that all that hard, cold armor stood between them.

  “Zakota,” came a tinny voice from his helmet. “We’re coming in hot. Enemies on our asses. Do you read? Zakota!”

  16

  “Shit,” Zakota said, abandoning his kiss to grab his helmet. “You can’t get thirty seconds to smooch with a fellow pilot around here.”

  Katie snorted and turned back to the console, navigating them to the ground to rest next to the other shuttle.

  “How far out are you boys?” Zakota asked, pulling his helmet back on. “Did you plant Hierax’s bombs?”

  “Yes,” Orion said, “but—”

  The sounds of weapons firing interrupted him, followed by a thunderous boom. The shuttle deck shuddered, and Zakota realized how close that explosion had been.

  “I’ve got to get to the other shuttle,” he said, giving Katie a quick pat on the shoulder and lunging for the hatch. “There’s still atmo out there, so you don’t need to raise the barrier.”

  “Gotcha. Enjoy your guts,” she called after him.

  Zakota grinned, despite the insanity of the situation and that his crewmates were sprinting toward the alcove with enemies firing at their asses. As he ran out of Katie’s shuttle and around his, he decided he would get Sagitta to write her that recommendation for one of the flight academies, even if he had to promise the captain free luck talismans for the rest of his life. A woman who didn’t shy away from death, destruction, and guts was a keeper.

  When he reached his shuttle, Zakota found that Katie’s prediction of a mess wasn’t far from the truth. Soot decorated the interior walls, along with more than a few chunks of meat and fur. Disgusting. At least the damn Zi’i were dead.

  Leaving the hatch open for the men, he sprang over the mangled remains and fired up the engine.

  “Orion?” Zakota asked. “Are you going to make it or do you need help?”

  What help he could provide, he didn’t know. It wasn’t as if he could maneuver the shuttle through the hatchway and down the corridor toward the men. He had the minimal weapons built into his combat armor. Maybe if he could catch some Zi’i with their backs to him, they might do some good.

  “We’re coming,” Orion grunted—panted. Weapons fire continued to sound over the comm. “But slower than… slow, damn it.”

  “How much time until the bombs go off?” Zakota didn’t want to distract the men, but if there wasn’t much time, he could send Katie ahead. They didn’t need two shuttles to carry six men.

  Orion didn’t respond, though Zakota continued to hear weapons fire over the comm. Then a cry of agony sounded.

  He gripped the console hard enough to dent it. He raked his mind for something he could do to help. He had to do something, even if his weapons were paltry.

  Zakota left the helm and sprinted out of the shuttle, skidding on the smooth floor as he turned, and almost ran into a Zi’i that jumped into the hatchway, its back to him.

  He barely managed to keep from crying out in surprise. The Zi’i reared up on two legs and swiped at something in the corridor in front of him.

  Zakota popped his DR-70s out of his armor, stepped back, and fired into the alien’s broad, furred back.

  The Zi’i shrieked and whirled toward him. Before it could strike, something slammed into it from behind. Smoke wafted up around its shoulders, and its eyes rolled back in its head.

  The alien toppled forward, and Zakota had to spring back to avoid being crushed.

  Star Guardians in black armor jumped over the body and raced into the alcove. Two of the men carried wounded comrades over their shoulders.

  “Who let you out of your shuttle?” someone barked—Hammer.

  He grabbed Zakota’s shoulder and spun him toward the craft.

  “Someone had to come out and save your asses,” Zakota said over his shoulder while sprinting toward the shuttle.

  All the men raced after him, even though half had come in Katie’s shuttle, and she had the hatch open. It wasn’t any farther away, but they made their choice.

  A part of Zakota wanted to order them into the other shuttle so Katie wouldn’t feel abandoned, but there wasn’t time. He sprang through the hatch of his craft and went straight to the controls, lifting off before everyone was in. The last two men jumped to make it inside, but their armor made it easy. Someone slammed the hatch shut.

  “Go, Katie,” Zakota barked into the comm. “I’ve got everyone.”

  “You first,” she said. “You’ve got everyone.”

  It took him a second to realize what she was saying, that he should fly out first because he had more people in his shuttle, that they had to make sure he escaped.

  That didn’t sit well with him—she was the last person who should be allowed to die in here, since she hadn’t signed a contract and wasn’t getting paid to risk her life—but again, there wasn’t time to mention it.

  Instead, he left the alcove and swooped into the maintenance shaft. He did make sure her shuttle followed his before accelerating to full speed—or as full speed as he could go in the tight tunnel.

  “I see Zakota redecorated while we were gone,” Hammer said, lowering the Star Guardian he carried over his shoulder.

  Another unmoving man was laid on the deck. Zakota couldn’t tell who was who. Even Orion wore borrowed Star Guardian armor, so they all looked alike. He could tell that the two men who’d been carried weren’t moving. Gouges and dents marred everyone’s armor, but the unconscious men—Zakota hoped they were only unconscious—also had dented helmets. A crack split someone’s faceplate, too, even though the liquid glass was supposed to be damn near impenetrable.

  “Is that blood on the walls?” Mikolos asked.

  “I’m surprised the Zi’i didn’t think of this decor on their own,” Hammer said.

  Zakota ignored them. He was too busy watching the route ahead and making sure Katie kept following him. She was right behind. Good.

  “How long do we have?” he asked. “And are the warheads somewhere that’ll just knock out a generator and the power for this thing, or will it be more dramatic?”

  He frowned as the running lights played over rubble and twisted metal in the shaft ahead. The sensors confirmed a blockage.

  “Damn it,” Zakota said, the memory of the green glowing grenade flashing into his mind.

  It had blown up spectacularly, but it had been so far down the shaft from the shuttle that he hadn’t worried about it at the time. A mistake.

  “Uh, Orion knew the countdown,” Mikolos said, waving to one of the men on the deck. “He set it. But he got knocked out.”

  Zakota slowed down far enough away from the blockage to fire at it without risking damage to the shuttle. Pieces flew free, and metal melted, but he feared that clearing the wreckage this way would take too long. He couldn’t see through the pile to the other side, and the sensors struggled with accuracy in here. The blockage might be a few feet deep or it could stretch the rest of the way out.

  “Your butt is in my way,” came Katie’s voice over the comm, startling Zakota.

  “We have a problem,” he said.

  “I think it’s less than two mi
nutes now,” Mikolos said.

  Sweat dripped down the sides of Zakota’s face.

  “I see that,” Katie said. “Scoot up.”

  There wasn’t room for her to fly under him, so he wasn’t sure what she had in mind, but he nudged his craft upward. Her shuttle lowered, belly resting on the bottom of the shaft. She joined him in firing at the blockage, her beams blasting past, scant inches from the bottom of his shuttle.

  “That’s a little close for comfort, Katie,” Zakota said, though he couldn’t truly object. He clenched a fist as he watched their combined weapons bite into the rubble, blasting it away. Would it be enough?

  “I’m clearing you by a good six inches.”

  “You’re practically shaving the hair off my belly.”

  “If your belly hair is six inches long, you need to get that shit waxed.”

  “I’m starting to like her,” Mikolos said. “But less than a minute.”

  “This isn’t working,” Zakota said, even as he held down the weapons button. “Mikolos, you’re the hobbyist blacksmith. How do I melt this much wreckage really fast?”

  “Uh, with a three-thousand-degree furnace.”

  A jolt shook the deck, and Zakota gripped the console to hang on.

  “What the—” He gaped at the sensors.

  Katie was pushing her shuttle past him from underneath.

  “I need you to open your hatch,” she said. “And tell me there’s still atmosphere out here.”

  “There’s still atmosphere, but what are you doing?” he demanded even as she scraped past him, flew ahead, jammed her shuttle into the blockage hard enough to dent the nose and stick it there.

  As he gaped, her hatch opened, and she jumped out. She sprinted along the bottom of the shaft toward him, waving wildly for him to lower his shuttle.

  “Qat’s blessing,” Zakota whispered, realizing what she’d done. “She must have hit the self-destruct button. Mikos, get that hatch open.”

  He needn’t have given the order. Mikolos and Hammer were already there, shoving the hatch up as Katie reached them. Zakota started to lower the shuttle, but she jumped up, and the men caught her hands.