Unchained_ A science fiction romance adventure

by Ruby Lionsdrake

  Cortez winced. Jerick was only supposed to mention Skylar. Now Falconer would expect Keiko to walk out of the shuttle with the others. Skylar and Keiko had two very different stories, and it would not go well if someone drew them aside for independent questioning.

  “I’m something of a hero,” Jerick added. “I never should have been stuck in prison. That’s what I want to talk to you about. I’m willing to bring the women to you, but I want my freedom.”

  Falconer didn’t respond right away. Cortez didn’t know if he was waiting for another report or if Jerick’s audaciousness had stunned him to silence.

  “You’re on course to my ship now,” Falconer said. “A hero would bring innocent civilian hostages to the fleet without trying to make a deal.”

  “I’m a practical hero. One who wants to live. If you’ve looked me up, you know I would be dead already if military cyborgs hadn’t stormed the prison.”

  Cortez winced again. By all the stars in the sky, it was hard to stand back and let someone else handle things, especially when Jerick wasn’t answering the way he should. Why had he drawn Falconer’s attention to that timing detail?

  “How convenient that they arrived in time to keep your sentence from being carried out,” Falconer said, latching onto that.

  “Isn’t it?” Jerick asked easily. “You’d think I’d be grateful to Cortez, and I am a little, but I don’t want to head off into space you wouldn’t send your worst enemy into. I want my freedom, and I want to stay here, in civilization. I’m prepared to work with you—to give you the most important hostages he took—in exchange for an acquittal.”

  “All of the hostages—all people—are important,” Falconer said.

  “Uh huh. That’s why some soldiers get incinerated and their ashes dumped in space when they die, and others get their bodies brought back for state funerals.”

  “Nobody here has the power to acquit you.”

  “I’ll wait while you get on the horn with someone who does.”

  “Why don’t you show your good faith by flying over here, docking in our shuttle bay, and sending the women out first?”

  “That sounds like a good way for me to get shot rather than acquitted,” Jerick said. “Once you have them, you won’t need me.”

  Cortez nodded. Even though that invitation to the shuttle bay was exactly what they wanted, it was good that Jerick didn’t appear too eager to accept it.

  “Fleet does not negotiate with terrorists or blackmailers,” Falconer said, his voice turning stern. “Do the right thing and bring those women here. Perhaps the government will show you some lenience. Especially if you give us information on how many men Cortez brought with him and the defenses he’s set up inside the prison. Assuming he’s still in the prison and he and his entire strike team aren’t hiding behind the seats.”

  Cortez had expected Falconer to be suspicious, but he grimaced at this all-too-accurate musing.

  “Come now, Captain,” Jerick said. “Everybody knows cyborgs are too big to hide behind the seats. The strike team would have to be in the lav.”

  Someone snorted from behind Falconer, and a distant voice whispered, “That must be a luxury shuttle with an awfully big lav.”

  “It’s probably got one of those showers with two heads inside.”

  “The captain’ll be jealous. Even his cabin here doesn’t have that.”

  Falconer must have turned away from the mic, but Cortez still heard his quelling growl to his men. The two jokesters fell silent.

  “Your freed hostage is being extremely quiet,” Falconer said. “I don’t see a gag. Let her come forward and speak.”

  “Nobody’s bound or gagged here,” Jerick said.

  In the mirror, Cortez saw him wave at Skylar, who rose and switched to the pilot’s seat. He closed his eyes, hoping she would be able to answer questions without incriminating herself… and also without giving away his team.

  “I’m all right, Captain,” Skylar said.

  “How much of Jerick’s story is true?” Falconer asked without preamble, not sounding like he cared much about her state.

  “I’m not sure about the part where he claims to be a hero. He stunned the cyborg guard, grabbed me from the prisoners that had been gathered together, and didn’t give me any choice about coming along. He tied me and gagged me so I wouldn’t yell and betray him stealing the shuttle. He only just untied me and removed my gag for this comm.”

  “I just had to make sure we got off the asteroid safely, Captain,” Jerick drawled.

  “I bet.”

  Cortez sighed, lamenting that Skylar was lying, that she felt she needed to.

  “Dr. Russo, is there a cyborg strike team in the lav?” Falconer asked, his tone more intent than dry, and Cortez knew then that the captain didn’t believe Jerick’s story.

  “Not that I’m aware of, sir, but I wasn’t given a tour.” Skylar glared over at Jerick.

  “It’s hard to miss cyborgs.”

  “I don’t know about that. I didn’t see Cortez for the three-day flight out here. He kept to his little cabin.”

  “That shuttle’s big enough to have all manner of cabins and compartments where cyborgs could be hiding, sir,” someone behind Falconer whispered.

  Cortez sighed again. He’d suspected they would end up fighting, but he’d hoped to take the Black Star by surprise. Now, there would likely be fifty armed and armored men waiting in the shuttle bay.

  “They’ve muted their end,” Jerick said. “I just muted ours. I’m going to change our course, pretend like I’m going to take us to the wormhole instead of to their ship. I want them to give up on their notion that we’re eager to get in their pants.”

  “Are you referring to their shuttle bay, or are there even more surprises waiting for me in the future?” Skylar asked.

  “That depends. How surprising would you find it to know that I’m not qualified to pilot this shuttle?”

  “That’s more alarming than surprising.”

  “I’m counting on them intercepting us and locking their tow beam onto us before I have to land. Hold on. They un-muted.”

  “We’re going to allow you to dock, Jerick,” Falconer said, “but you will send the two women out first. If they are unharmed and not under obvious duress, we will allow you to exit, followed by whoever else is in the lav there. You’ll come out with your hands up and without any weapons, or we’ll shoot without asking questions first.”

  “As shocking as this may be to you, Captain, I’m not interested in your offer. I’m going to take these ladies somewhere else and see what I can get for them.”

  “That’s not what you said before,” Skylar whispered sotto voce.

  “I thought the fleet would be more reasonable,” Jerick said, not whispering back. “Not sure why I thought that. Guess my memory cells died off in prison. You’re a brain doctor. Can that happen? Could prison have damaged my brain?”

  “A lot of things could have damaged your brain,” Skylar muttered.

  “They’ve changed course, sir,” someone in the background told Falconer.

  “Jerick,” Falconer said, “you will fly to us and dock in our shuttle bay.”

  “Nah, your offer, such as it is, is even worse than the one Cortez gave. I’m tempted to fly back to the prison and deal with him, but I believe I’ll just keep going to the wormhole. It’s a slow amble in this tub, but we’ve got supplies to last for weeks.”

  “We can and will intercept you.”

  “You won’t leave the asteroid behind. The longer you give Cortez to get entrenched there, the harder a time you’ll have getting him out. As is, you should probably start building a prison on the asteroid next door and leave Antioch to him.”

  “I’d gladly leave you all there,” Falconer muttered. Then, he spoke over his shoulder, his voice low. “Mayweather, change course to intercept them. Use the tow beam to force them into our shuttle bay. Send all three infantry squads down to wait for them and have Lieutenant Varma scan it by h
and before opening it up. Since we’re having such a hard time getting a reading on who’s inside now.”

  Cortez was surprised Falconer hadn’t muted the comm to issue those orders. He had lowered his voice. Maybe he’d forgotten how well cyborgs could hear.

  “Yes, sir,” his officer replied.

  “Jerick,” Falconer said, “this is your last warning. Cooperate, dock, and send the women out first, unharmed. If you do, I’ll make sure your death is swift and painless.”

  The comm clicked out.

  “What the hell?” Jerick asked. “That man is the shittiest negotiator in the universe. Who would ever cooperate with him?”

  “What are you going to do?” Skylar asked.

  A hum went through the shuttle, the engines increasing output. “Try to make it look like I don’t want to be captured while hoping Cortez is thinking up a genius plan—or at least doing something more useful than most men do while they’re in the lav.”

  “Excreting waste is biologically useful.”

  Cortez left the lav, coming forward to check the sensor display while considering their options.

  Lieutenant Varma had been his engineer once, during the last year of the war. Now, he wished he had contacted her weeks ago, when he’d sent a message to Lieutenant Baxtor, especially since Baxtor hadn’t responded to his more recent comms from the prison. Cortez and Varma hadn’t been close, but there also hadn’t been any friction between them. Was it possible that she would think kindly of him and help out? At the least, she might hesitate to shoot him.

  But what about the rest of the fleet soldiers that would be waiting in the bay? As he’d suspected, they would be in armor, which would make the gas grenades pointless. Cortez and his team would have to fight. He was ready for that, had been from the time he drew up this mission, but an all-out battle couldn’t end without spilled blood. Without death. He’d wanted so much to avoid that, to slip away with the cyborgs and the Black Star without leaving a trail of death and destruction behind him.

  “That’s not what I was talking about, actually,” Jerick told Skylar. “If we somehow get out of this situation, I’ll show you what else men do in the lav.” He grinned at her.

  “Tell me you didn’t just offer to tickle your pickle and let her watch,” Cortez said.

  “Tickle my pickle, sir? What are you, five years old?”

  Cortez shrugged. “Poets like rhyme and repetition.”

  “I thought you sneered at rhyming poetry.”

  “I don’t write it. I don’t mind when other people write it if the words are strung together in an appealing way.”

  “You can’t be fickle when men talk about a pickle tickle.” Jerick winked at him. “Was that appealing?”

  Cortez sighed, more because the warship had left its position and was barreling down on them at top speed than because of the rhyming.

  The shuttle shuddered.

  “Damn, that was fast,” Jerick said. “Their tow beam has locked on to us. Alas, it has done so in an unappealing way.”

  “Agreed,” Cortez said.

  15

  As the shuttle floated into the great warship’s bay, Jerick felt a twinge of nostalgia. He well remembered the white walls, the gray floor, and the giant blue-black-and-white 3rd Space Brigade eagle mascot painted on one side. He’d served on this ship for all six years of the war.

  He didn’t remember the forty armored men with plastech rifles staggered in the end of the bay, pointing their weapons at the shuttle. The sensor panel told him there wasn’t any atmosphere out there yet. Jerick assumed someone would flick on the oxygen and pressurize the bay before ordering the hostages to be released.

  “Are we going to go out fighting, sir?” Jerick looked at Cortez.

  He stood in the aisle between the two pilot seats, one hand on Jerick’s shoulder and one hand on Skylar's. If they hadn’t been in so much trouble, Jerick might have enjoyed the moment of quiet camaraderie. Tek Tek had roused himself and joined the other cyborgs in the false bulkheads, so they were alone in the navigation cabin.

  “No, let’s see if we can get lucky first. I’m going to have the men stay hidden for now. We’ll hope that Lieutenant Varma will choose to do a less than thorough search for her old comrades.”

  “I remember Varma,” Jerick said. “She’s a good officer. I’m surprised she’s still a lieutenant.”

  “As am I. Regardless, we’ll start out hiding. Even if they find us right away, I think a battle will be more likely to go in our favor if they’re facing us in the cramped confines of the shuttle rather than out in the open bay.”

  A soft clank reverberated through the shuttle as it set down. A light on the control panel came on, indicating that they were secured with mag-clamps.

  No escaping now, Jerick thought.

  “I want the women to be safe before that happens, though.” Cortez squeezed Skylar's shoulder. “Send them out ahead of you, as Falconer ordered. But I was thinking we should drug or stun the pilot.” He looked down at Skylar. “Do you have anything that would knock her out or make her less likely to talk? It doesn’t have to be for long. I suspect that all will be revealed, one way or another, in the next twenty minutes.”

  “I… There’s a medical kit on board that I’m already familiar with,” Skylar said. “It does have sedatives in it. But she won’t take kindly to being knocked out again.”

  “It’ll be the last time,” Cortez said.

  “It will be hard for me to carry her out there if she’s unconscious.”

  “Jerick can carry her. Actually, that’s a good idea, a reason for him to go out at the same time as you two. They won’t shoot him if he’s carrying an innocent woman, and that also gets him out of the shuttle before the fight breaks out.”

  Jerick scowled. “I’d rather help you fight than hide behind a woman.”

  “You won’t be hiding behind her; you’ll be carrying her. Besides, you’re hardly in the appropriate combat attire.” Cortez waved to his bare feet and orange pants.

  “What’s that I hear?” Jerick cupped a hand around his ear. “Ah, it’s the sound of your tweed pants laughing at the idea that they are appropriate combat attire.”

  “Just do it.” Cortez nodded to him and also to Skylar. “We’re out of time.”

  He patted their shoulders, turned, and headed toward the back.

  “Where will you be?” Jerick called after him. “In the secret compartments with the others?”

  “In the lav.”

  The lav? That was the first place someone would look in a search.

  “This isn’t the time for playing with your pickle, Cortez,” Jerick said.

  “I’m hoping for a private moment with Varma.”

  “You think she’s going to want to see you play with your pickle? I doubt it.” Jerick didn’t expect a retort to the silly comment, but Cortez paused before stepping into the lav and smiled slightly at him.

  “No? You think Skylar wants to see you play with yours.”

  “Yes, because she’s an extraordinary woman.”

  Skylar’s eyebrows twitched.

  “Varma was one of only a handful of female soldiers who were given cyborg implants. She’s fairly extraordinary, as I recall.”

  “Just keep your pickle in your pants. You don’t want Skylar to get jealous.” Jerick looked at her. “Right?”

  “Yes, I’m extremely concerned that the woman chosen to check this shuttle for enemy soldiers will be captivated by his tweed trouser tent.”

  “She likes repetition too, Cortez,” Jerick said.

  “I heard. She is an extraordinary woman.”

  He lifted a hand in parting, then stepped into the lavatory.

  A soft dong sounded, the shuttle letting them know the bay had been pressurized and oxygen pumped into it.

  Jerick grimaced and turned back to the control panel and the view screen. The time for fooling around had ended.

  “Go find that sedative for your friend, please,” Jerick said, ri
sing from his seat.

  One of Falconer’s squads of soldiers was already heading for the shuttle’s side hatch. Jerick needed to open it and step out before the men brought out tools to force it open. They might get excited and charge in all at once if they had to do that. Jerick wanted to make sure Skylar got out safely first.

  He followed her into the cargo area in the back and helped her take Keiko by surprise. It wasn’t hard since she was alone in a cabin, left behind when the cyborgs had jammed themselves into the secret compartments. Jerick tapped her on the shoulder, and Skylar prodded her with an injector from the other side. She cursed at them for ten seconds, then pitched over sideways.

  Jerick caught her and swooped her into his arms. He was glad none of the men could see out of their secret hiding spots, as he felt particularly unchivalrous.

  “Sorry, Keiko,” Skylar said.

  “She would have spent a lot less time drugged, incarcerated, and tied up, if she’d simply accepted from the beginning that we were fun people and worth helping,” Jerick said.

  He headed toward the hatch, apologizing to the unconscious woman when her shoe bumped against a doorjamb.

  “I tried to convince her of that,” Skylar said, trailing behind him.

  “You told her we were fun?”

  “I stood up for cyborgs.”

  “But you left out the fun part, didn’t you?”

  “I’d really only talked to Cortez at that point,” Skylar said.

  “Ah, then it’s understandable why you didn’t fully realize how fun cyborgs are.”

  “I heard that,” Cortez grumbled from the lav.

  He’d left the door ajar. He truly wanted someone to look in there and find him. What would he do if the engineer wasn’t the first one in? Hang from the ceiling and hope the soldiers didn’t look up?

  The comm chimed.

  “My men are waiting to receive the female hostages,” Falconer said. “Open the hatch and send them out first.”

  Jerick hit the hatch button and stepped forward, indicating he would lead—he couldn’t see throwing Skylar out first to the waiting horde of trigger-happy soldiers—though he felt cowardly since he was essentially holding Keiko as a shield. But even with her in his arms, he felt vulnerable. Fleet policy was to capture enemies alive, especially if they were human enemies, and send them to a qualified civilian or military judge for a trial. It wasn’t to shoot them outright. But Falconer had a reputation for sometimes taking matters into his own hands. He might decide that since Jerick had been on death row anyway, a simple plas-bolt to the forehead now would make his universe simpler down the line.