The Fallen Empire Collection by Lindsay Buroker

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The Fallen Empire Collection by Lindsay Buroker Page 26

by Discover Sci-Fi Special Edition


  Alisa rubbed the back of her neck, floored that someone was willing to pay that much for Leonidas, and bemused that her security officer thought that turning bounty hunter was a good way to fund his culinary ambitions.

  “Does the Alliance even have that much money?” she wondered. “I know our government gets some of the taxes that once went to the empire, but only on the three planets and handful of stations we had the resources to secure. And during the war, we were poorer than a depleted asteroid after three centuries of mining. Remember the ships we had to fly? Some of them were practically museum pieces.”

  Beck’s gaze flicked toward the ceiling, but he did not point out that the Nomad could also be in a museum. Wise choice.

  He pulled up some more text in the holodisplay. “It says here that they have the money. If you bring him in, no questions will be asked. They’re offering physical coin for him.”

  “How old is that poster?” Alisa peered closer to read the text. “Maybe it was something put out at the beginning of the war, when he was commanding the Cyborg Corps.”

  Even as she spoke, she wondered if that made sense. Would someone pay that kind of money just to take an enemy officer out of the equation? Leonidas might have been good at his job, but surely the imperials would have replaced him with another officer if he had disappeared.

  “Nope.” Beck prodded a line, enlarging the text. “The issue date is less than six months ago.”

  He was right. This hadn’t come out until three days after the treaty had been signed and the war had officially ended.

  “It doesn’t say what he did? Or why he’s wanted?”

  “Nothing about it.” Beck shrugged. “We don’t know what he was looking for in that cybernetics lab, but it might have been something a lot more important than a few parts upgrades.”

  Alisa leaned back in her seat. It was true that Leonidas had never explained what he sought there, only that he had wanted to talk to the head research scientist, a man they had found dead on the floor of his lab. Leonidas had collected some files from the computer before leaving, but he had never shared what they were about.

  “Two hundred thousand, Captain,” Beck said. “If you helped me, we could split it. You could buy a brand new ship with that, or at least put a real substantial down payment on one. A bigger one. One that would let you haul a lot more freight in a single run and make more money.”

  As if money was what motivated Alisa. Oh, she wouldn’t mind having more of it, especially since her Perunese bank account had likely disappeared along with everything else after the war, but for now, all that mattered was getting Jelena back. Something that should finally happen soon. It made her giddy to realize that by this time tomorrow, she should have landed and found her sister-in-law and her daughter.

  Would Jelena like the cabin Alisa had made up for her? Remembering how much she had enjoyed Andromeda Android, Alisa had downloaded some stencils, printed them out, and painted the walls with characters from the cartoons. The family had chatted over the net as often as possible when Alisa had been away, and she thought she recalled Jelena still quoting the heroine in their most recent exchange, but that had been months and months ago, so she could not be sure. She worried that Jelena’s tastes might have changed and that she would be too mature for cartoon characters now.

  Realizing Beck was gazing intently at her and waiting for a response, Alisa said, “How would we subdue a cyborg and transport him to an Alliance planet? He could kill either of us any time he wanted. Surely, you remember how your first time trying to shoot him went.”

  Beck had the self-awareness to squirm in his armor and flush a deep red, which was noticeable even with his bronze skin. “I do remember that, Captain. That’s why I came up here to enlist your help.”

  “You want him to bend my gun in half too?”

  She wasn’t even wearing her Etcher, having left the holster in her cabin. Though she did not fully trust Leonidas or Dr. Alejandro Dominguez—someone else who had admitted to being loyal to the empire—she doubted either would charge into NavCom and strangle her while she piloted. One of the perks of being the only pilot on board was that people who wanted to see land again rarely threatened her.

  “No, but you’re a schemer,” Beck said. “You could come up with something. Maybe we could drug his food and strap him down, lock him in his cabin until we got to Arkadius.”

  Given the athletic feats that Alisa had seen Leonidas perform so far, she doubted a locked hatch or chains would keep him immobile for long. And the Star Nomad, designed only to transport cargo and a handful of passengers, did not have a brig with forcefields. The old freighter did not even have weaponry—it had always been illegal on civilian ships when the empire had reigned.

  “I’ll think about it,” Alisa said, more because she didn’t want Beck to come up with some harebrained idea on his own than because she wanted to betray Leonidas.

  A beeping sound came from the sensor display to the left of her seat. Three ships had broken orbit and were heading in their direction.

  Alisa licked her lips, her nerves jangling anew. She tapped a button to bring up the starboard camera feed on the view screen, so they could watch the ships’ approach. She glanced at the comm panel, expecting one of them to contact her. Those were imperial warships, one dreadnought and two escort cruisers, all heavily armed. She tried to tell herself that there were signs of old battle damage on the hulls, maybe even a rusty patch or two, but it might have been her imagination. From what she had heard, the empire still claimed ten or fifteen warships with which to defend its sole remaining planet.

  “It’s hard not to see those big ships without getting a little twitchy,” Beck said, his gaze locked on the view screen. “The last time I saw them… well, my last battle didn’t go well.”

  “Mine, either. Technically, we won—it was the battle for the Dustor 7 Orbital Shipyard—but my little Striker got pulverized by a kamikaze imperial Cobra right at the end. The bastard was determined to do as much damage as he could and go out in a fiery mess. His people had already surrendered at the time.”

  Alisa gritted her teeth as the memory of that Cobra hitting her leaped out of the recesses of her mind. She had lost control of navigation and crashed soon after. She remembered nothing after that, except waking up on Dustor weeks after the war ended, the primitive medical facilities there taking their time in rejuvenating her macerated organs and spine and getting her off life support.

  “You look even grimmer than me, Captain.”

  “Maybe we can swap war stories sometime.” That crash had been a nightmare, one she had no wish to relive, but she had other stories that she would gladly share, stories where her flying had kept her alive and destroyed enemies attacking key personnel. Those were worth remembering.

  “To be honest, I’d rather swap barbecue recipes.”

  “You’re a strange security officer, Beck. Anyone tell you that?”

  “Lots, but usually while they were asking me to make ribs and my famous honey-glazed biscuits. You get the oven in the mess working, and I’ll make a pile of them.” His words were coming out rapidly, nervously, his eyes still locked on the approaching ships.

  Alisa noticed that her own palms were sweating. Speaking of nerves…

  She wiped them while glancing at the comm again. What if the empire had quarantined Perun and was not going to let anyone in? What if they somehow knew that half of her crew had fought in the war? What if—

  The comm light flashed, and a beep sounded.

  Even though she had expected it, Alisa twitched with surprise. She reached for the button slowly, composing herself so that her voice would come out as calm and indifferent. She had no reason to sound nervous, right?

  “State your purpose for approaching Perun, unidentified Nebula Rambler,” a cool female voice said. Was that a haughty sniff at the end of the statement? Maybe she knew about the shag carpet in the rec room and wasn’t as impressed as Alisa that there was a Rambler still flying
.

  “This is the captain of the Star Nomad,” Alisa said, deliberately not using her name in case they had a list of Alliance army officers in their database somewhere. “We are a peaceful freighter with passengers to drop off in Perun Central. We’re also hoping to pick up some cargo if that’s allowed.” She made a note to herself to later check and see if anyone was trying to get goods off the planet. Once she had her daughter, she would have to turn into a legitimate businesswoman and find a way to pay for fuel and food.

  “What is your name, captain of the Star Nomad?” the woman asked dryly.

  Alisa blew out a slow breath.

  Did she lie and hope for the best? That the empire was, indeed, cut off from the system as a whole and wouldn’t have access to the global database of imperial subjects that had once existed?

  “Alisa Marchenko,” she ultimately said.

  Life would only get more difficult if she lied and was found out. Besides, the war was over. Part of the treaty said that there would not be reprisal against civilians, former military or not, by either side. Of course, that apparently didn’t apply to everyone since there was a warrant out for Leonidas’s capture.

  “Access to Perun is denied,” the woman said scarce seconds later. Had she even had time to look up Alisa in a database?

  “Pardon?” Alisa asked. “We have passengers that paid good money and traveled all the way from Dustor to land here. They’re imperial subjects.” She thought about pointing out that she had lived on Perun for more than ten years, but she did not want them snooping into her past. Or her present.

  “Access is denied,” the woman repeated. “You will turn around and leave the vicinity, or we will force you to do so.”

  Alisa muted the comm and muttered, “Very brave of you to threaten an unarmed freighter, assholes.” She turned off the mute and tried to force a smile into her voice. “May I inquire as to why? Our passengers didn’t inform us that there was a quarantine or any reason that we wouldn’t be allowed to land.”

  Though… now that she thought about it, she remembered that none of the other ships that had been leaving Dustor at the same time as the Nomad had been heading to Perun. She distinctly remembered Alejandro mentioning that he had been waiting a while for a ride.

  “Only loyal imperial ships are allowed access to our world.”

  “We could be loyal,” Alisa said. “I just want to run freight. Is there a license I can apply for?”

  “A loyalty license?” The woman really did have the driest voice. Even Leonidas, who did dry quite well himself, would have been impressed.

  “Yes, I’ll take one. I want to run freight all over the system. May I land and apply?”

  A new voice came over the comm, and Alisa had the impression of a senior officer leaning over the communications officer’s shoulder. “Was that lippy mouth appreciated by your superiors in the Alliance army, Captain Marchenko?” he asked, his tone as dry as the woman’s.

  Alisa had the distinct impression that the man referred to her military rank rather than her status as a freighter captain. It seemed someone had looked her up.

  She should have shut up, but she could not resist responding. “Oh, absolutely. My wit regularly left the senior officers in guffaws.” She ignored the incredulous look Beck shot her way. “It’s well known that the ability to appreciate humor was what won us the war.”

  “Alcyone knows it wasn’t honor,” the man muttered darkly.

  Alisa sighed and leaned back, muting the comm again.

  “What?” she asked to the stare Beck was still leveling at her. “It’s not like they were going to let us in, anyway.”

  “Access denied,” the man repeated. “Leave now.”

  Alisa resisted the urge to add that the utter lack of humor had surely been what resulted in the empire losing the war. But, in truth, her senior officers had not truly appreciated her wit that much. They had appreciated her piloting skills, but that was about it. Only Jonah had regularly laughed at her jokes, whether they were funny or not.

  A knock at the hatch kept her mind from traveling down tunnels of nostalgia and regret.

  “It’s Leonidas,” Beck said, grabbing the netdisc off the console, even though he had turned off the holodisplay several minutes before. There was no condemning evidence floating around to alert Leonidas to the treachery in his mind.

  Alisa punched a couple of buttons to alter their course—not away from the planet, not yet, but along a lateral trajectory that would not take them any closer. Then she rose to open the hatch. Like most of the doors and controls on the old ship, everything had to be done manually. She unlocked it and slid it open. Leonidas and Yumi, one of the passengers who had paid in advance for a ride to Perun, stood in the corridor.

  “Any chance you can dress up in your red armor and get us an invitation down to the planet?” Alisa asked Leonidas, not ready to give up yet.

  Even without his combat armor, Leonidas was intimidating: tall, broad-shouldered, and brawny. His bulging arm muscles were on display in the sleeveless vest that he wore today. As Alisa had noted before, he looked entirely human, albeit extremely fit and developed for a human, but she’d seen him hurl big men twenty meters across a shuttle bay and drop from great heights to land easily on his feet. There was no doubt as to what he was.

  His gaze flicked toward the ships on the view screen. “The doctor’s name might be more likely to gain you entrance. I’m not anybody anymore.”

  Uh huh. And that was why someone had a ridiculously large bounty out for him.

  “You didn’t try giving them my name already, did you?” Leonidas added.

  “No, I gave them my name, and they didn’t like it,” Alisa said. “Given what a fine name it is, I couldn’t imagine anyone else’s performing better.”

  He frowned down at her, probably not sure if that was pure sarcasm or if there was a useful answer in there.

  “I see you haven’t learned to appreciate my humor yet,” Alisa said.

  “Was that what that was? Humor?”

  Yumi snickered softly, her dark eyes twinkling. Those eyes looked a little odd, the pupils dilated, and Alisa wondered what she had been smoking, chewing on, or snorting this time.

  “I’ll work on my jokes,” Alisa said. “Would you mind asking the doctor if he’ll come up here and talk to the imperials?” She stopped herself from saying that she would get him herself if his brawny bigness were not blocking the corridor. She didn’t truly want to annoy him. It was her reflex to be snarky to the enemy—better than letting the enemy see one’s fears and weaknesses. But somewhere between the T-belt and here, she had stopped thinking of him as an enemy. She hoped that was not a mistake.

  Leonidas lifted a hand and headed toward the passenger cabins.

  “Same offer goes for you, Yumi,” Alisa said.

  “Pardon?”

  “If you have any sway on Perun and can get us down there…” Alisa extended her palm toward the ships filling the view screen.

  “Ah. I don’t think the empire has reason to dislike me, but unless they’re in need of science teachers, I’m not certain what value I would have in their eyes.”

  “You do have that flock of chickens in the cargo hold.”

  “You think there’s a chicken shortage on Perun?” She smiled, pushing a long braid of black hair behind her shoulder.

  “It does have a large population with cities stretching for hundreds of miles along the coasts. I wouldn’t be surprised if food became a problem for them eventually.”

  “A problem my ten chickens can doubtlessly help them with.”

  “I’ve heard chickens like to make more chickens.”

  “Not with the way that Tommy is demolishing their eggs in the mornings.”

  Beck lifted his hands. “You said they were free for all. And I’ve shared my large omelets.”

  The comm light flashed on the console again. Even though Alisa had altered her course, the imperial ships were shadowing her. She expected another thr
eat, or for someone to point out that flying parallel to a planet was not the same as flying away from a planet.

  Leonidas returned. “The doctor says he’ll request that they let us through, but he wishes to communicate from the privacy of his cabin.”

  “Does he,” Alisa murmured, wondering what secretive things Alejandro intended to say. She supposed it did not matter. Once they landed, he wouldn’t have a reason to return to her ship. He would depart and do whatever he needed to do here, he and that strange glowing orb that he protected like a mother with a newborn babe. After that, she would never see him again.

  Alisa flicked a couple of switches to give Alejandro comm access from his cabin. He could be the one to deal with the imperial officer’s insults too. Then she slid into the pilot’s seat and drummed her fingers. It crossed her mind to eavesdrop, and she might have done just that if she hadn’t had so many witnesses. Nothing like witnesses to help one rein in tendencies toward moral ambiguity. Still, she wouldn’t have felt that wrong for eavesdropping, not when she suspected Alejandro and his orb were at odds with the Alliance. More than once, it had crossed her mind to report him and what she had seen once she reached an Alliance world.

  Leonidas stepped to the side, and Alejandro appeared behind him.

  “Any news?” Alisa asked.

  “We’re to be allowed to land at the Karundula Space Base. A civilian station.” Alejandro said those last words firmly, making Alisa wonder if there had been an argument over that matter. Had the imperials wanted to direct them to a military facility? Where they would be more easily monitored or even locked down?

  “That’s excellent,” Yumi said, clapping her hands together. “The girls will enjoy getting out.”

  “Yes, finding sunlight for your chickens was my primary concern too,” Alisa said, watching as the dreadnought veered away. The two cruisers moved toward her, assuming a flanking position. “Oh, goody. We get escorts.”

  “Better than being shot at,” Leonidas said and headed toward the rear of the ship.

 

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