The lift doors opened, and Jerick started to step out, but he halted on the threshold and jerked his rifle up. A uniformed woman was striding down the corridor away from him. She must have heard the lift doors open because she whirled around, a stunner in hand.
Jerick leaped back into the lift, darting to the side for cover. He recognized her, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t shoot.
“Sergeant Jerick?” the woman asked uncertainly.
“Just Jerick, Lieutenant Varma,” he called, poking his head out.
Her stunner pointed straight at his eyes, but she didn’t fire. “You look different.”
“I’m wearing fewer shirts these days.”
“They didn’t give you one to match those awful pants when they locked you up?”
“They did, but it was too tight. Binds across my shoulders. I’m too broad and muscled.”
“Uh huh. Why don’t you come out here so we can talk about what’s going on?”
“Are you going to shoot me?” Jerick looked down at the rifle in his grip, but he couldn’t use it on an old comrade, and he had no way to knock her out from a distance. He’d thrown all of his vials into the vent system.
Her soft sigh drifted down the corridor. “I didn’t shoot Cortez, so I guess I’m officially not shooting cyborg intruders today. Falconer will knock me down to ensign when he finds out. Or court-martial me.”
“I was surprised to find you’re still a lieutenant.” Jerick stepped out, realizing he trusted her enough to do so. Varma had come to their poker games once in a while and made that amazing onion and chive dip whenever she showed up. And she was, as far as he knew, the only female cyborg left in the fleet. There had been a few others during the war, but they hadn’t survived. Just as so many of Jerick’s male comrades hadn’t survived.
“Not by choice,” she muttered, lowering the stunner.
Her eyebrows twitched when she saw the rifle in his hand. She must not have spotted it earlier or realized he could have shot her when her back had been to him. Not that he would have.
“I don’t suppose you know where Cortez is? Or the two women that came aboard with me?”
“No, I just got up here. I was going to check on the bridge since nobody up here is answering the comm.”
“I may have had something to do with that.”
She hesitated, not looking like she was sure she wanted to invite him along—or be seen walking with him. But a familiar figure strode through an intersection ahead of them.
“Sir,” Jerick blurted, jogging past Varma to catch up with Cortez.
“Jerick.” Cortez nodded curtly. “I’ve checked the captain’s office, and I’m heading to the conference room.” His gaze shifted past Jerick to Varma.
“I let her come along with me, sir,” Jerick said. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Let me?” Varma said. “I captured you.”
“Whatever you need to tell the fleet so you won’t be court-martialed.” Jerick meant it as a joke, but as soon as the words came out, he knew they were the wrong ones. Because they weren’t a joke. Varma would be in as much trouble as Cortez over this if it came out that she’d assisted them. He grimaced. Damn, they were ruining careers left and right.
Cortez shot Jerick a quelling look and nodded gravely at Varma. “Lieutenant. Thank you for looking the other way earlier.”
“I’d say you’re welcome, but I’m already regretting it.” She grimaced at them, her finger on the trigger of her stunner. She looked like she might use it. “What did you do to my crew?”
“The soldiers on this level are unconscious,” Jerick said. “That’s it.”
Cortez nodded.
“If I didn’t like you a lot more than I do Falconer, I’d be shooting you both right now,” Varma said. “Ship life has been horrible, and he doesn’t recommend anyone for promotion except his fawning lackeys. He—” She grimaced again. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be saying anything. Especially not now.”
But a hint of moisture filmed her eyes. More from frustration than sorrow, Jerick sensed. She looked like she wanted to air all her grievances to her former commander, three years’ worth of them, perhaps.
She noticed them scrutinizing her, blinked a few times, and forced a mask over her features.
“I’ll be sure not to invite him to come along once we claim the ship as ours,” Cortez said.
Varma’s lips parted in surprise, but she recovered quickly and shook her head. “I’d wondered why Baxtor goaded Falconer into volunteering for this mission. You had that worked out with him all along, didn’t you?”
Cortez nodded.
“I wish you’d told me. I would have…” Varma looked away. “I know my duty, and I never wanted to stray from it, but loyalty should be to people, not ideals or institutions. I would have helped you.” She looked back. “Both of you.”
Cortez stepped forward and gripped her shoulder. “You can help us now.”
She nodded and followed when Cortez led the way down the corridor. The ship wasn’t that big. There were only so many places Falconer and the women could be. Would they be together? Probably not. Jerick hoped they would come across the captain face-up on the deck, drowning in his own drool.
“I wish we could comm them,” Cortez muttered after poking his head through a doorway.
“Did Captain Falconer take their wristcomps?” Varma asked.
“Actually, we did.”
“That was inconsiderate.”
“Yes, and inconvenient too. Jerick, why didn’t I think to get them their personal belongings back before we came over?”
“Because you’re getting old and senile,” Jerick said.
“Damn.”
Cortez strode into the conference room, stopping so abruptly that Varma almost ran into him. Jerick waited in the corridor, watching and ready for company. If Varma had grown suspicious of the silence on the top level of the ship, others soon would too.
“They were here.” Cortez stepped over an unconscious soldier and crouched, pointing at something on the deck.
Jerick, a foot stuck out so the door wouldn’t slide closed, asked, “Glass from one of the vials?”
“Yes.” Cortez squinted around the room, but there wasn’t much else to see, except for the same table and deck-locked chairs that had been there three years earlier.
As Cortez turned for the door, a ship-wide message played over the speakers.
“Former captain and current treasonous traitor, Diego Cortez,” Falconer said.
“Treasonous traitor?” Jerick quirked an eyebrow. “Does your poetical mind like that repetition?”
Cortez lifted a hand.
“Report to my quarters immediately,” Falconer went on. “I have another traitor here, one I believe you would like to get back. Come unarmed, or my report will say that she met with an unfortunate accident when you barbarians tried to take over my ship.”
“She.” Jerick winced. Skylar. It had to be. Did Falconer have any idea how close she had grown with Cortez? And with him, damn it.
“He’s going to kill a civilian?” Varma looked stunned. “Why is he announcing that on the comm for everyone to hear? Doesn’t he think anyone will report it?”
“Who’s awake to do so?” Cortez grumbled, swore, and stepped toward the door.
Jerick caught his forearm to stop him. “You’re not doing what he asked, are you? Walking right into his quarters?”
“I can’t let my actions result in her… I can’t be responsible for putting her in danger.”
“Too late for that. We just have to rescue her and knock him on his ass. Let’s come up with something clever before heading over there.”
“I’m sure he’ll be prepared for a rescue attempt, although…” Cortez looked toward Varma. “If you could arrange for the lights to go out in his quarters in five minutes, I would be grateful.”
“How grateful?” Varma asked.
“What do you want?”
Hope flared in Varma’s eye
s. “I heard about your quest, what you want to do. Take me along.”
“You would have always been welcome. And if you do this favor for me, I’ll make sure you get one of the nicest cabins in the ship.”
“Deal. Five minutes?”
Cortez nodded and ran out.
Jerick raced after him. “I think we need to arrange something more advantageous than having the lights go out.”
“You have two minutes, Cortez,” Falconer spoke again, already sounding impatient. “If you try anything clever, I’ll shoot her before you get here.”
A soft gasp of pain came over the speaker—a woman’s gasp. Skylar.
Damn, Falconer truly did have her.
“I’m going to need your help, Jerick,” Cortez said.
“I know that.” Jerick smirked, though it was mostly out of habit. He was worried that Falconer had had the time to set up a scenario where he and Cortez couldn’t possibly win.
“Falconer didn’t ask for you. I’m hoping he won’t expect you. I’ll go in and stand in front of the doorway, do my best to shield it. I’ve got my comm open to you.” He waved his arm to show his wristcomp. “Listen to the conversation and gauge the best time to come in—maybe when Varma knocks out the lights. I need you to run in, locate the pilot—I’m assuming she’s in there too—and get her out. I’ll cover you. One way or another.”
“The pilot? What about Skylar?”
“The fleet pilot is unconscious on the bridge, and I have no idea where the night-shift helm officer is. We need Skylar’s friend Keiko to get the ship out of here before the other warships arrive, or it’s not going to matter if we’ve got command of the Star or not. We have minutes, not hours, before they surround us.”
“But Skylar— He’s gunning for her. You may need my help. I care about her too.”
“I know you do, but that’s not the point.” Cortez drew something from his pocket. One of those vials. “Someone needs to get the pilot outside while the rest of us pass out.”
“Oh,” Jerick said, realizing what Cortez planned. “All right. I’ll do my best to grab her. Good luck. Don’t get shot.”
“Don’t you get shot, either. If nobody has Falconer tied up by the time I wake up, I’m going to be disappointed.”
“Understood, sir.”
“Thirty seconds, Cortez,” Falconer growled over the speakers in the corridor.
Cortez stepped up to the door to the captain’s quarters. He suspected Falconer already knew he was there. He would have access to the ship’s internal sensors from his wristcomp. He might know Jerick was out there, too, but Cortez had ordered him to wait farther away, near the lift.
“I’m here,” Cortez said when the door didn’t automatically open.
He pressed the vial against his palm with his thumb, angling his hand to hide it. If he hadn’t been fairly certain Keiko, as well as Skylar, would be in there, he would have hurled himself through the doorway, throwing the vial at Falconer’s feet and knocking them both out. But someone had to be awake to fly them out of here, and he worried there wasn’t time for Jerick or Pip to root through the sickbay to find a counteragent for the sedative.
The door opened. Cortez spread his hands to suggest he held no weapons—he kept the vial tucked out of sight—and stepped inside.
Falconer stood in the middle of the room, beside his desk and in front of the bed. Cortez wasn’t surprised that he held Skylar in front of him like a shield, nor that he had a weapon pressed to her temple. It was an old-fashioned revolver rather than a modern firearm, but that didn’t matter. Those bullets could kill, the same as plas-bolts.
In case the gun wasn’t enough, four young guards were stationed around the cabin, two at the door to either side of Cortez and two to either side of Falconer. Three of them trained weapons on Cortez the instant he entered. The fourth needed both hands to grip the squirming and glowering Keiko. Unfortunately, she was with the guard farthest from the door. How was Cortez supposed to block the way so Jerick could get to her?
“Found something of yours, Cortez,” Falconer said. “She’s cute. Nice ass.”
Cortez ignored the jab and met Skylar's eyes, searching for signs of distress. Was she in pain? Had he hurt her?
She looked more pissed than distressed, and when their gazes met, she winced, an apology in her eyes. He shook his head slightly. It wasn’t her fault she was here in this situation. He should have left her and Keiko back in one of the hidden compartments in the shuttle. He’d made nothing but mistakes on his self-appointed mission. It was his fault she was in that position.
“I’m sorry, Diego,” Skylar said, using his first name for the first time.
It stabbed at his heart.
“I said be quiet, you traitorous bitch.” Falconer lifted the arm he had around her waist, pinning her arms and holding her to him, and plastered his hand to her mouth while he kept the revolver pressed against her temple with the other.
Cortez gritted his teeth, wanting so badly to spring at him like a tiger and rip him into shreds.
“Check the hallway,” Falconer told one of his door guards.
Cortez forced his face into a neutral expression, hoping Jerick heard that and had time to duck into one of the other cabins off this corridor.
The guard eased past Cortez, eyeing him warily.
Cortez could have clubbed him and taken his rifle—he didn’t recognize any of the four guards Falconer had chosen but felt certain they weren’t cyborgs. Falconer was watching him, though, and his jaw tightened, as did his finger on the trigger of that revolver.
“You’d kill a civilian scientist to get to me?” Cortez asked. “Your career will be over if you do.”
“No, I’ll get a medal for capturing the treasonous Diego Cortez.” Falconer sneered. “Did you really think you could take my ship? Or that fleet would just give you one?”
Cortez snorted. “We already have the Star. Haven’t you looked out a window?”
Falconer glanced toward a porthole behind the bed. It was an incredibly quick glance—he seemed to realize right away that it was a mistake—and Cortez almost sprang for him, but he was terrified the gun would go off, blowing out Skylar's brains.
She was the one to act.
Skylar bit his hand as she jerked her head down and away from the revolver. The gun went off, the bullet slamming into a ceiling panel.
As the guards turned toward them, Cortez leaped, rage firing through his limbs and murder in his heart.
Skylar stomped on Falconer’s instep and threw her elbow back into his solar plexus. He stumbled away from her in time for Cortez to bowl into him.
Cortez barely had the presence of mind to keep the vial in his hand instead of dropping it. He used his other hand to pummel Falconer, wanting to pay him back for his unkind words to Skylar, for using her to get to him.
Weapons fired behind him, and a roar sounded, Jerick leaping through the doorway.
Cortez forced Falconer to the deck, pinning him while wrapping fingers around his throat.
He knew he needed to knock the man out and pay attention to the rest of the people in the cabin, lest someone shoot him in the back of his head, but for a long second, he glared into Falconer’s eyes, silently letting the man know how tempted he was to squeeze just a little harder…
Falconer gripped his arms, but he didn’t have the power to push Cortez away.
“Don’t ever touch her again,” Cortez growled, then stood, dragging Falconer up with him.
For a second, he thought of using the captain as a shield, as Falconer had done with Skylar, but that was cowardly. He hurled the man against the bulkhead, ensuring he would be too injured to return to the fight.
Cortez whirled to face the remaining guards, to join the fray. Right beside him, a guard stumbled back as Keiko kicked him in the stomach. Jerick had liberated one of the antique truncheons from the wall, and he brought it down on the guard’s head with a resounding crack.
The soldier dropped, unconscious
before he hit the deck, where he joined the three other soldiers that had been dealt with. The “fray” was already over. Skylar was holding somebody’s stunner, Keiko had grabbed an axe off the wall, and Jerick gripped his rifle in addition to the truncheon.
“I’m sorry,” Skylar said again, her hand shaky as she lowered the stunner. “We didn’t mean to get captured. We even stunned him. But he tricked us.” She glared at Falconer, then met Cortez’s eyes. “Thank you for coming.” She looked at Jerick. “Both of you.”
Cortez stepped over a limp, groaning soldier to reach her side and give her a one-armed hug. He would have used both arms, but he still held the vial in the other hand. He bent to bury his face in her hair but cracked his forehead against someone else’s. Jerick’s. He’d come to hug Skylar from the other side.
Cortez adjusted so there was room for both of them and thumped Jerick on the shoulder, careful not to break the vial.
Skylar dropped her stunner and slid her arms around both of them.
“Skylar,” Jerick whispered, his voice full of emotion. “Don’t let asshole captains capture you, all right?”
“She knew she could handle him,” Cortez said, his own emotions swinging toward pride as he thought of her biting Falconer’s hand.
“I knew she could handle him, too, but that doesn’t mean I don’t worry.”
“I’ll try not to get captured again,” Skylar whispered, rubbing their backs.
“We’d appreciate that,” Jerick said.
“Uh, I’m fine,” Keiko said from the other side of the cabin. “No need to check on me. Continue doing… whatever you’re doing.”
The lights went out.
Cortez almost laughed. “Good to know Varma came through.”
Jerick made a contented sound, which was followed by the faintest of kissing sounds. A surge of envy went through Cortez, mostly because he hadn’t thought first to use the moment to kiss Skylar.
Unchained_ A science fiction romance adventure Page 22