Hearts and Minds: An Impulse Power Story

by J. C. Hay

  An idea flickered into his head, crazy enough that it might work. He needed his arm back before he could execute it, however, much as he hated to disturb her. He kissed the top of her head. “I need you to wake up, Captain.” He couldn’t suppress the shiver of desire as he said the word.

  Her eyes snapped open immediately, a blissful half-smile at the corner of her mouth. “It better be important to wake me up from that dream.”

  “We need to fill a cargo hold with rocks, and then you need to let me modify your transponder.”

  She sat up, all traces of sleep vanished from her face. He felt the momentary wave of panic bleed into him, then the embarrassment as she lifted the sheet to cover her chest.

  He smiled. “It’s a bit late for that, hon. I’ve seen them, and they’re spectacular.” He cupped her cheek in his hand, let his thumb brush her lips. “All of you is spectacular.”

  “Don’t change the subject.” She nipped at his thumb with a grin. “What are you thinking?”

  “At the moment? How much I’d like to exhaust you all over again.” She glared at him and brandished a fist. He chuckled and added, “And how to get us past the cruiser that’s lurking out there.”

  She rolled over him and shoved her feet into the coveralls. “Then what are we waiting for?”

  For the first time, he realized her back had been tattooed by a network of scars. He reached out to brush them with his fingers. “What happened?”

  “The Tse caught me when—during a raid. I spent a week in prison, waiting to be hanged for piracy. They gave me the lash to make me confess.” Her voice was flat and emotionless, a contrast to the cold loathing that leached out of her. A kernel of rage blossomed, unbidden, in his chest. All that the Tse had done, to friends, to acquaintances, paled in comparison. He wanted to crush the whole Hegemony for hurting the woman he cared about.

  The realization took him by surprise, left him suffused with warmth that he wanted to share. He leaned forward to brush his lips across the scars, but she pulled out of his reach.

  “Please. I don’t like to think about it. You understand.” Something else played along the edge of her emotions—loss? Resentment? Galen couldn’t piece together how it fit in with her hatred of the Tse.

  “I’m sorry.” The words felt weak, even to him. He looked around for where his clothes had landed and pulled them closer.

  “Not your fault. I managed to break out. I went to the fringe and stayed out of Tse space. I never planned to see them again.”

  He realized suddenly what she was risking for him, what the Tse might do if they caught her a second time. His original plan evaporated. “You don’t have to come. You’ve got assault pods; you could launch me in one and jump back out of system. I wouldn’t think any less of you for—” She crushed the rest of the words from his mind with a kiss.

  “Sometimes you talk too much. I’ve got you, and I’m not about to fire you off into space where I can’t get you back.” He caught a sudden flare of panic from her, followed by a slow chill of embarrassment.

  He chuckled. “Good. I wasn’t crazy about the idea either.”

  “So what’s your other plan? Please don’t tell me fire-and-forget was your only option.”

  “It’s an old plan, but an effective one. I figured we’d disguise ourselves as a supply freighter.”

  “Carrying rocks?” Her curiosity flashed like a bright spark between them.

  “Carrying a dense compound in one hold. Cursory scan’s not going to look for more than proof that we’re loaded.”

  “And the fact that we’re the very ship they were looking for?”

  Galen thrust his legs into his pants and tugged them up. “That’s why I need to modify your transponder.”

  “I don’t suppose I need to tell you that modifying your transponder is illegal.”

  “Sorry, I thought you were a pirate.”

  She grinned. “Captain of fortune, thank you very much.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  “Yes. Get on it. I’ll tell Bree you get full access.”

  He smiled as he pulled his shirt over his head. “I’ve already had it, and it was everything I’d hoped it would be.” The pink that bloomed across her cheeks was worth the punch she laid into his arm, and he smiled all the way to the bridge.

  ~ * ~

  “Moment of truth, Psi-boy.” Syna watched as the Tse cruiser crawled closer on her screens, the coffee she’d slammed to wake up now cold and heavy in her stomach. “Bree? Tell me if they so much as twitch.” She tapped in coordinates for the nearest jump point, ready to fire all burners on a moment’s notice.

  “Aye, Captain.” The AI’s voice had been modulated—the bright, clear voice changed to the thinner vowels and soft consonants of a Tse accent. Hopefully it shouldn’t match any records the Tse might have of Galen’s or her speech patterns.

  She looked at Galen, who kept his head bent over the tactical console. “You can change that back when we’re done, right?” If we get out of this madness alive, she added mentally. If he heard the afterthought, he gave no sign.

  He smiled at her, and her heart thudded against her ribs. “Of course. We’re all good.”

  “Tell me that after we get past the big war cruiser bristling with weapons.”

  “So you’ll feel safer with it behind us?”

  She glared at him. “Not funny.”

  His modification on the transponder had been inspired, she had to admit. They wouldn’t look like a Tse ship, but between the rocks in the hold and the altered signal on the transponder the Quarry looked a lot more like a long-hauler than the short-hop frigate that she’d started as. At least to a sensor array. Visuals would still show the same ship, of course, but hopefully, the Tse weren’t big on visual confirmation.

  A Tse voice came over the comm lines, calm and emotionless. “Attention, Independent Trader Shenlong. This is the Constant Perseverance. You are entering restricted Hegemony space. Heave to and prepare for boarding.”

  Bree responded over the cabin speakers rather than directly over the comm to preserve the illusion of being on the bridge. “Negative, Constant Perseverance, negative. We’re behind schedule as it is.”

  “State your destination and purpose.”

  “Headed to Proxima Thule lighthouse, dropping off Helium-3 and supplies for the 371st. I was told not to make them wait.”

  Syna knotted her hands together and pressed them into her lap as the comm went silent. When she looked over to Galen, he gave her a reassuring smile and mouthed the words, “No problem.”

  The seconds dragged by. Each one that passed made her more certain the Constant Perseverance would open fire without warning. At the end of two excruciating minutes, the comm crackled. Syna nearly choked on her lurching heart.

  “Thank you for your patience, Trader Shenlong. Proceed along your current course.”

  Syna waited until the comm popped into silence and let out a long sigh of relief.

  “What? I told you we had nothing to worry about.” Galen cracked his knuckles as an exclamation point.

  “You were holding your breath too, don’t think I didn’t notice.”

  He smiled. “Maybe I was thinking about what we could do to celebrate.”

  She felt a blush warm her cheeks, matched by the heat his look raised in her belly. Gods, is this what it’s supposed to be like, getting excited at the thought of him? In all the time she and Anbjorn had been together, he’d never made her feel the way Galen had in a few short hours. There’d been lust, of course, and the sex had been energetic. But it had always been couched in terms of his own prowess—how long he could go, how many times he could make her climax. Never a consideration of her own presence, save how she allowed Anbjorn to be more and better. Galen had turned all that on its head, had shown more interest in her pleasure than his own, known what she wanted without her having to ask. She could already see the addictive nature of that kind of attention.

  Mind on your work, old girl. Fun later
. “When it’s all said and done, then we can celebrate. Until then, you can tell me everything you know about the lighthouses.”

  “That won’t take long. No one I know’s ever been inside one.”

  Syna’s jaw dropped open. “You planned to assault a lighthouse, not even knowing what you’d find inside?”

  “To be fair, we had decided that if we couldn’t figure out a way to access the lighthouse, we could just drive the yacht into the transmitter array at full speed.”

  “My gods. You really were on a suicide run.”

  He held up his hands, as though he could wave the notion out of the air. “Not anymore! I’ve seen you fight. We’ll have surprise on our side. We have a good chance at this!”

  “And what am I supposed to do if you get killed? How am I supposed to go forward from that?” The words left her mouth before she realized she was saying them.

  Galen stared at her. She counted her heartbeats while she waited for him to laugh. Instead, he shoved himself away from the tactical console and kissed her. It wasn’t the ravenous crushing kiss from before, just warm. Reassuring. He rested his forehead against hers. “You don’t need me or anyone else to protect you, so I’m not going to swear something goofy like that. Besides, you’re a better fighter than I am. For what it’s worth, you’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever met. I’m like a moth, drawn in by the fire of you. I won’t give you up without a fight.”

  She nodded as she stood into his embrace and wrapped her arms around his hips. “You’re a terrible fighter.”

  “Most of my opponents don’t kiss me mid-combat.”

  “Their loss. You’re fun to kiss.” She proved her own point, tugging his lower lip with her teeth.

  “We’re in visual range of the lighthouse, Captain.” Bree’s alien accent made the hairs on Syna’s neck stand up. She loosened her grip on Galen and turned to face the main window.

  Proxima Thule Lighthouse hung against a backdrop of stars. A central cylinder supported docks at one end and a habitation ring at the other—all in the elegant, rounded shapes common to Tse architecture. Above the ring, the cylinder supported a broad dome that she assumed to be the null beacon array. It looks so innocuous. So normal. Not at all like the vehicle through which Tse expansion was so extensive, so unstoppable. The lighthouses made null travel reliable, made communications between systems possible in a reasonable amount of time.

  The station rotated to bring a small corvette into view, hanging from one of the docking arms like overripe fruit. She let out a disappointed breath. “Well, there’s at least one person on board that thing.”

  “Maybe it’s only one,” Galen said, and she narrowed her eyes at him. “Yeah, I didn’t think it would be either.”

  “They still think we’re supposed to be here, or they’d have opened fire.”

  “Then there’s still a chance.”

  “Not if one of us doesn’t commandeer the lighthouse’s defense batteries. We fooled the Constant Perseverance once—I doubt they’ll be as forgiving when their lighthouse blows up.”

  “Sounds like we’re splitting up then. You shoot down the cruiser, I take out the beacon.”

  “Think you can handle it?”

  “Of course. All the soldiers will be coming after you.” He put his arm around her waist and squeezed her to his side. “I’ll be done in half the time it takes you.”

  She tugged him around for another kiss. “That sounds like a wager.”

  “I already owe you a hundred credits.”

  “You could go double or nothing.” Syna hooked her thumbs into his belt loops and smiled at him.

  “Not a chance, I’ve seen you cheat. How about loser on the bottom?” His hips pushed against hers for emphasis.

  “You’re on.” Fire flushed through her as she tried to find a downside to losing that bet. “Bree? Take us in to dock.” She laid her head on his shoulder and watched the lighthouse grow to fill the bridge window.

  Chapter Five

  The clang of the docking clamps locking on to the Quarry echoed throughout the ship. Syna tried not to think about how similar it sounded to the gallows bell that rang every morning when she’d been imprisoned. No sense going into this with a bad attitude. It’s going to be tough enough as it is.

  She checked the fléchette pistol at her hip for the fourth time as they waited for the airlocks to synchronize. Behind her, she caught a whiff of machine oil as Galen broke open and inspected his autofléchette. She’d kept the rifle for emergencies and had never expected to see it used in something as crazy as what they had planned.

  He patted his bulging pockets, loaded down with the extra clips he’d grabbed, and slung the rifle over his shoulder. “You’re really just taking a pistol. Against an entire army.”

  “There can’t be more than a company, the habitation ring’s too small.” My gods, he’s rubbing off on me.

  Galen laughed. “Good point. Still, I thought you might want something a little more…”

  “Lethal? I’ve got my baby.” She caressed the hand guard of her monoblade. “I prefer things to be up close and personal.”

  “It’s certainly when you’re at your best.” He grinned and she kissed him roughly, resisting the urge to nip and draw blood just so she could carry a piece of him with her into battle. A reminder of what she fought to protect. It wasn’t an uncommon habit among the more crazed of the Vanyari soldiers. She hadn’t thought it made sense until now, but suddenly she understood.

  Bree coughed from the comm panel. “Airlock opening in ten seconds.”

  Syna broke the kiss and tousled his hair. “Ready?”

  “Too late now if I’m not.”

  The screamsword wailed as she freed it from its scabbard and thumbed it to life. “That’s certainly true.”

  Four.

  Three.

  “I’m falling for you. I wanted you to know, just in case.” The voice filled her mind, sent warmth blossoming into her like gentle sunshine. She heard a gasp of shock and realized it was her own.

  When she glanced at him, he looked unapologetic. The words terrified her, forced her to admit that she had something to lose. You have something, even if you don’t admit it, came her subconscious’s reply. She released her monoblade and the airlock was quiet. She looked at him, burning the warmth of his eyes and the twist of his smile into her memory. “I’m not…” good at this. “I’m pretty fond of you too.” Syna swallowed hard and rushed past the sudden burn in her throat. “So don’t think for a second you’re not coming back alive. Got it?”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  Zero.

  Syna charged as soon as the airlock iris had opened enough to admit her. The squad of four soldiers on the other side, all dressed in the saffron uniform of the Tse, still had their weapons holstered. It didn’t stay her hand. The monoblade’s thirsty howl rose and fell in shrieking destruction, muted as it passed through flesh only to scream for more as it came free again.

  The last of the soldiers turned to run but managed only a step before she caught him and struck him down. She looked back at Galen. “The elevator should be towards the center. Get to the beacon. Do what you have to do.”

  He nodded, reached out and wiped a smear of gore from her face. “I’d wish you good luck but you obviously don’t need it.”

  She grinned. “It never hurts. See you soon.”

  “Good luck.” He looked at her a moment longer, then turned and ran.

  Syna watched him disappear around the gentle curve of the corridor and then ran in the opposite direction. No soldiers stopped her; indeed the entire docking ring seemed deserted. A cold fear lodged itself in her throat. What if they were waiting for Galen? What if they’d all been pulled to defend the beacon? She’d sent him to his death.

  No. He was smart, and a good fighter. She’d seen that in action, even when it was a friendly match. He could hold his own, at least long enough for her to take care of the threat posed by the Constant Perseverance. If the war crui
ser could bring its troops into play, neither of them was getting out alive.

  Still, better to hurry and get upstairs as fast as possible.

  She spotted a set of stairs and skidded around the corner to descend them. The battery hung below the docking arms, so if she kept going lower, she had to find it eventually.

  The staccato cough of an autofléchette sent her diving back around the corner. The stink of propellant gas and shattered ceramic filled her nostrils as she took cover. Voices jabbered in Tse from the bottom of the stairs—she counted three, but that didn’t mean they didn’t have friends who were less talkative.

  She risked a glance into the hall, but they hadn’t rushed up the stairs to face her. They must still think this was a full assault, that more people than her waited in a defensive position. She couldn’t let them find out otherwise.

  Syna charged the stairwell and vaulted over the safety rail, monoblade shrieking. The Tse looked up, too late to bring their weapons to bear as she fell onto them. The weight of her fall buried the blade in the first, and she kicked the back of the sword to drive it free. The vibrating edge threw a scarlet arc into the air as it continued on into the next body. For all the strength of their military, the Tse preferred ranged combat. Their weapons and shields gave them an advantage that she stripped away with close assault.

  She brought the blade around for the throat of the next soldier when a hand grabbed the sword and knocked it aside. She looked up to see a human in the uniform of a Tse officer. His hand had been replaced by an elegant prosthetic of obvious Tse construction. A shimmer in the air around the hand revealed the presence of a powered field—it explained how he had grabbed the blade without losing his fingers. He smiled and said “Checkmate” in heavily accented standard.

  Syna drew her pistol and shot him in the throat. “Don’t talk. Attack. Talking wastes time.” That had always been Anbjorn’s motto—if you had the drop on someone, any time you wasted gloating was time they had to counter your strategy. Better to finish them immediately.