The Fated Stars

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The Fated Stars Page 14

by Veronica Scott


  “I’m going to scout ahead,” Pete said, “Get an idea of whether this crazy offense is working or not.”

  “I’ll go, you’re our only pilot so we need you to stay as safe as possible.” Larissa tapped the senior crewman from the freighter on the shoulder and jerked her head at Kliderr. “You’re both coming with me – you’ve just been assigned to recon duty. Let’s move it.”

  She led her team cautiously down the poorly lit corridor to the next junction, which emptied onto one of the ship’s main passageways. She heard the sound of rushing feet and a curious keening noise. Captured weapon at the ready, she stuck her head around the edge of the hall and stared.

  Dazed Shemdylann filled the corridor end to end, pushing, shoving, and trampling each other as they rushed in a wave to the starboard. As she watched, two collided and the bigger one struck the other a killing blow with his stinger, before clambering over his dying comrade and rushing onward. Juveniles skittered around the edges of the crowd, trying to avoid being crushed, or picked up bodily and hurled aside by their impatient elders as the younger aliens also pressed toward an exit.

  The keening was a sound the Shemdylann were making deep in their thoraxes and, unlike the song itself, the noise plucked at her nerves and heightened her tension. She had no regrets about the fate of the ship’s crew – these were alien combatants prepared to slaughter hundreds of innocent Tulavarrans on their masters’ whim – but her instincts reacted powerfully to the whine, making her want to flee them.

  “There’s an air lock down there,” Larissa whispered as she pulled back. She sent the freighter crewman running to report at least partial success to Samell and Pete before she and Kilderr retreated to a smaller corridor and ascended a level, finding the same scene repeated there as well. In this corridor she heard the hiss of escaping air, so apparently the airlock was standing at least partially open. The escaping atmosphere pulled the smaller Shemdylann off their feet and sent them flying toward their doom. The larger adults moved faster under the wind’s influence.

  “Hear that?” Kliderr asked, head tilted. “The song comes from the coms unit, as your man promised.””

  “And the deadly music is working, thank the Lords of Space. We’ve got to get Pete onto the bridge so he can close the airlocks all over the ship once the enemy’s all gone. Replenish the air for us.” She turned to her companion. “Go back down there, find Captain McQueen and tell him I said to head for the bridge now. I’m going to make my way up there.”

  “How will you know where it is?”

  She pointed with the barrel of her weapon. “See the diagram on the bulkhead? Prettiest map I ever saw. Should be pretty straightforward.”

  Kliderr saluted and ran in the direction they’d come.

  Larissa figured she’d be a goner if she set foot in the main corridor where the air was escaping. She felt the pull of the open airlock even in this side corridor, although not so badly she was in any danger of being sucked out herself. Squinting at the diagram on the wall opposite her, in between the frantic Shemdylann stragglers rushing to throw themselves into space, she identified an alternate route and worked her way to the vessel’s higher decks.

  The corridors were eerily silent, doors standing open. From her glimpses into the chambers beyond the portals, she could tell the Shemdylann had scrambled to flee, leaving chaos in their wake, even dropping their weapons in a mad rush to escape under the spell of the Tulavarran song.

  The door to the bridge was closed.

  “Odd.” She wondered if the captain or another high ranking Shemdylann had locked himself in there to fight the pull of the siren song. Donnie D’s broadcast might be playing in there too. She braced herself for the onrush of an escaping enemy or two, and blew the lock keeping her out.

  Pausing, she checked the chamber and found no one. Weapon at the ready, she moved inside the eerily quiet space. She stepped to what had to be the ship’s primary controls and stood studying the board, hoping Pete could figure out how to fly this thing. Her job would be coms and an attempt to call for help from Sectors authorities—who were going to be highly skeptical of a distress broadcast from outside the fence. And coming from a Shemdylann ship. Even with her old service code and Pete’s, it was going to be tricky getting assistance in time. The enemy was cunning and had played many a similar trick in the early days of the war, unfortunately.

  Her peripheral vision caught movement and she wheeled, activating her weapon even as she threw herself to the side. Cursing, her attacker fell onto the deck, as she too toppled, partially paralyzed from a stunner blast. The energy gun fell from her nerveless right hand as she scrabbled with her left to drag herself into the relative safety of cover.

  The man she’d shot staggered into view. “Hold it right there.”

  “Kinterow!”

  He aimed his weapon at her. “None other. I don’t know what you and your boyfriend did to spook the Shemdylann, never saw anything like it in my life. One hundred percent effective. Prxx’mart dropped his dinner on the floor and scuttled like the Mawreg masters had just walked in, ready to squash him. When I decided it was time to make my own exit, he was headed for the portside airlock to take a walk without an enviro suit. Scrambling on all his legs like he had a pair of their deadly female admirals on his tail, looking to mate and decapitate. Powerful weapon you have. I look forward to a more complete explanation, which you can make to the Mawreg at the same time you tell me. Get up.”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  “Hate to disappoint your boyfriend, who’s no doubt on his way, but yeah, you and I are getting out of here. I have my own ship in the landing bay, prepped and ready to go, but I couldn’t get to it with all the doors open to space. Now I’ve dealt with the problem, I’ve set the controls for the landing bay to local control, so your friends can’t stop me from here.”

  “Why are you still on the bridge then?” She figured if she could keep him talking long enough, Pete and the others would arrive and take Kinterow down.

  “We can compare notes as we walk,” he said, limping forward to grab her. “I can’t afford delay.”

  His clothing was scorched and a blaster sear marked his left shoulder, so her wild shot had had some effect.

  “You winged me all right, want a medal? Once I get to my ship, I can take care of the wound easily enough. Now do you walk or do I drag you?”

  “Don’t touch me.” She used the control console to lever herself from the floor, clinging to it with her good hand and swaying a bit.

  He backed off, keeping the stunner trained on her. “Now move. We’re probably running out of time.”

  Reluctantly, she hobbled from the bridge, going in the direction he indicated. Kinterow walked behind her, stunner in the middle of her back, nudging her from time to time. “I can’t go any faster until the effect wears off,” she snapped at him, hoping to buy time for help to arrive The stun blast she’d taken was playing havoc with her nervous system and co-ordination. She might be able to take him, ought to be able to take him but had to admit she was seriously weakened for the moment. Hand to hand combat was going to be her last resort.

  Larissa limped around a corner, her captor right on her heels, and nearly collided with Pete, Samell and a group of Tulavarrans. Kinterow took his weapon off her to shoot at the others. She whirled and since her side was weakened from the paralysis ray, she head-butted him squarely in the nose, followed by a savage kick to his knee. He tried to shove her away and fell, blasted by Pete from close range.

  Samell grabbed her, lifting her bodily away and shielding her. “Are you all right?”

  “Mildly stunned but recovering. No need for healing,” she said.

  Larissa spun on her heel at the surprising sound of Kinterow laughing feebly. “Enjoy yourselves until the Mawreg arrive.” She knelt beside him and shook him by the shoulder. “What do you mean? What did you do?”

  But the light was fading from his eyes as he gasped and slumped over in her hol
d.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “He’s dead.” She rose to her feet with Samell’s help. “The bridge is empty – I cleared it, although he managed to get the drop on me briefly. Pete, you’d better get in there and see what you can do.”

  “Affirmative,” the Special Forces captain said. “We need to conduct a sweep to see if any of the enemy managed to resist the song’s effect.”

  Larissa followed him as he made his way to the bridge. “If we can figure out the internal vids, we’ll start there, and then yes, Samell, you’re going to need to organize what fighters you have to do a physical search. Send a couple of singers along with each unit.”

  “Wise precaution.”

  When she entered the bridge, several alarms were blaring. Pete crossed to the control panel and checked it. “Not too different from what we had on the simulator.” He glanced at Larissa. “But I’m going to move slowly, just in case. Air locks closed first.” He flipped a switch and most of the alarms went silent.

  “I can get you coms,” Donnie moved to a different set of controls.

  “Internal or external?” Larissa asked.

  “Both.” The sergeant sat as best he could on an awkward chair-like protrusion and studied the board in front of him. “And vids.”

  He brought up the view chamber by chamber on one set of screens, which Larissa had the freighter crewman inspect for any sign of lingering Shemdylann. Donnie gave them the external view, showing the hordes of enemy floating in space, drifting around the vessel.

  Larissa shuddered. “As soon as we make the jump to light speed, we’ll leave them behind. I hope.”

  “Seems our late pal was doing his own broadcasting,” Donnie said. “Got an open channel here.”

  “I wonder if he was calling in the Mawreg?”

  “All the more reason for us to hightail it out of here,” Pete said from his post at the helm. “I think I can get the ship’s AI to lay in a course for the Sectors, since it’s been there before. I don’t have the astronav skills to do an original one myself.”

  “That’s progress.” Hearing an odd reservation in his tone, Larissa asked the obvious question, “But?”

  “But we probably don’t want to get too close without an invitation from the authorities. As far as anyone in the Sectors can see, we’re a Shemdylann raider, trying to pull a fast one by claiming we’re the prisoners who took it over.”

  “Time to call for help,” Larissa agreed. “Can we proceed at sublight speed for now?”

  “At your command and rank be damned,” Pete said. “The guy in charge says you outrank everyone and the situation works for me right now. You’re getting results.” He worked over the controls.

  Larissa turned to Samell. “As soon as we know the ship is clear, we can put your people to work making it habitable for us.”

  “Not the whole ship surely?”

  She shook her head. “No, I think we should concentrate ourselves on the core as much as possible, in the rooms and cabins along the corridors to the bridge. I don’t want people wandering off on their own, and I don’t want anyone meddling with tech they don’t understand.” She looked at Donnie. “Sergeant?”

  “Yo!”

  “Is there any sign of a hatching chamber?”

  The big man gave an elaborate shiver. “Thankfully, no.”

  “Good. Juveniles wake up hungry and mindless,” she explained to Samell and the other Tulavarrans. “From what we know, it takes strong handling and discipline by a special class of worker drones to awaken their instinctual behaviors and make them part of the Shemdylann social fabric. I was hoping since the ship didn’t carry a female admiral, there wouldn’t be an egg chamber, and we lucked out there.”

  “Ready to make a call to the Sectors,” Donnie said. “We’re too far out for vids, but I tapped into the military traffic. What do we want to say?”

  “I’ll handle wording the message.” Pete left his spot and moved to join his sergeant.

  Larissa stopped him. “Don’t say too much yet. Not about exactly how we cleared the ship.”

  “Why not?”

  She couldn’t pin it down but her instincts were telling her not to broadcast the specifics. “Let’s save the details for a face to face with people in power, not a bored Level 2 comtech monitoring the chatter from the field. I don’t want the military to come in hot, already thinking of the Tulavarrans as a possible threat.”

  Pete studied her face as if he had many questions but decided not to ask any of them. “All right. What’s your service number? I’ll add yours to mine for authentication.”

  “Good idea.” She reeled off the code, then stood next to him as he transmitted his message.

  “I’m not sure how much good it’ll do, even if we did explain the whole affair,” he said. “Command got too many false alarms earlier in the war, too many ambushes when rescue parties went out. We may have to fly this baby right into a dock at the nearest Sector Hub and pray to the Lords of Space not to get blown up before we can explain.”

  “I know a guy who might be able to help. Can we transmit to a private com?”

  Donnie nodded, “Theoretically. Who are we calling?”

  “Ever heard of Nick Jameson?”

  The two men exchanged glances and Pete whistled. “The Nebula Dream survivor? You know him?”

  “Dude has serious gravity,” Donnie said. “Even with the Mellureans, I’ve heard.”

  “We might need high powered help before we’re done getting the Tulavarrans to safety.” Larissa wasn’t sure how useful this private bargaining chip of hers might be but now was definitely the time to call in the favor.

  “How is it you have Nick Jameson’s private com code?” Pete asked his question in a mild tone, but Larissa knew he was suspicious.

  “My older brother was his sergeant. The two of them were a tight team, from training days onward and used to visit my family on leave. I joined the Special Forces because of them. On their last mission before Nick wound up on the Nebula Dream, the whole squad except Nick got taken out. When he could, Nick got in touch with me, to tell me how my brother died, what he said in his last moments. He gave me his code and said if I ever needed anything to call. Today sure feels like the right day.”

  “Do we have a call sign?” Donnie D asked. “Even if I knew the Shemdylann name I probably couldn’t pronounce it.”

  “If by call sign you mean a name for this ship, I hereby declare her to be the Sword of Thuun,” Samell said.

  “Works for me. Nice ring to it.” Donnie shrugged. “As soon as you’ve got your com text ready, I’ll initiate.”

  Larissa composed her message carefully but with more detail than she’d wanted Pete to share, including the fact many of the former prisoners on the ship had been held prisoner by the Combine and had unusual powers, as she carefully expressed it. She believed Nick, who was famous across the entire Sectors for surviving the wreck of the Nebula Dream, as well as his connection to the mysterious Mellureans thereafter, would help her to help the Tulavarrans. They needed an ally with serious gravity to deal with the Sectors authorities to make sure they avoided the fate of getting dumped in a refugee camp on a rim planet as a convenient temporary solution and forgotten. The Sectors had heart and good intentions, but she didn’t kid herself about the odds of emerging from this experience in a good position. She intended to do all she could for Samell and his people.

  Her task completed, after receiving numerous assurances from Donnie he’d call her the instant an answer was received officially or unofficially, Larissa left the bridge to find Samell. Samell had taken the captain’s large audience chamber as his office and waited for her there.

  He was leaning over a diagram of the ship she realized must have been torn from a corridor wall, working with Bartell and Zimeer to assign his people to chambers. They were also organizing food preparation and other necessary tasks, making ready once the all clear was given and he knew for sure no Shemdylann had remained on board.

&n
bsp; “Have we heard from your authorities?” Samell straightened as she leaned against the portal.

  “Not yet. We just sent the messages so it’ll be awhile. Donnie’ll call me.” She pointed at the table. “You three are making order out of chaos pretty efficiently.”

  “Necessary tasks,” he said. “This is more along the lines of what I do, or did, in my previous life as high priest of Thuun at Melgadarr.”

  She smiled, remembering the first time he’d told her his title. “We need to talk when you have a minute.”

  “I think we’ve got it pretty well laid out for now,” Zimeer said. “There will be inevitable problems, which we can deal with as new challenges arise.”

  She and Bartell left, Kliderr saluting and going in their wake. “I’ll be outside if needed, sir.”

  The portal slid shut.

  “How are you?” He moved to take her in his arms. “Are you sure you don’t need healing from the stunner charge?”

  “Later maybe.” She infused her tone with sultry suggestiveness and raised her eyebrows.

  Samell caught her to him for a passionate kiss. “The priestesses are clearing the captain’s rooms for us. I said we needed to be near the bridge. No one else wanted those quarters in any case.”

  “I don’t either, not really. But you’re in charge, you belong there.”

  “And you belong with me, my warrior.” He took her by the hand and led her to the far end of the table, where a carafe and tumblers sat on a tray. “Take refreshment and tell me what I need to know next in this amazing journey of ours.”

  She accepted a drink after sniffing it to make sure it was suitable for humans. The alcoholic content hit her with a pleasant buzz. “Good stuff. Must have been looted from an unlucky freighter or cruise ship. The cargo hold probably has all kinds of goodies in it. We need to strategize what to bargain for when the authorities arrive.”

  “What do you mean? We haven’t got anything but the clothes on our backs right now.”

 

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