Star Cruise: Stowaway Plus Rescue and Token

by Veronica Scott

  “I’ll be ready. Dilon out.”

  This is an epic hangover. I need headclear. Mira’s mouth was dry, her tongue felt numb and thick, and her head ached. She tried to raise her hand to rub her temples and found she was paralyzed from the neck down. Her limbs refused to obey her commands. Panic churned in her gut as she recalled the scene at the illegal concert and the shock and pain of the conductor’s venom strike. Able to turn her head with effort, she studied the room she was in, reassured to find herself in the same warehouse, judging by the weathered walls and industrial type ceiling. When she looked to the right she was horrified to see human bodies stacked to the ceiling, lying in clear cases. Complicated tubing ran from somewhere out of her sight, threading into each container, so perhaps the people weren’t dead. Paralyzed, like I was. Or in cryo sleep. The awful sight boosted her adrenaline and she made a supreme effort to move. Unable to exert fine motor control over her limbs, she was rocking from side to side, hoping to roll off the surface where she lay, when she was grabbed and held tight.

  “Not so fast, little human,” said the conductor, lifting her with ease and carrying her through the large room, past more stacks of imprisoned sentients. “You’re now my special piece of merchandise, a side deal. I had you thawed out this morning to satisfy a pending request for a captive meeting your general specifications. Much better for me to sell you to this buyer for a commission, than let you go to the Shemdylann in a big lot.”

  “You—you’re selling us?” She got the words out, labored but clear enough to her ears.

  “Indeed. There are those who pay a great deal for your kind, out beyond the Sectors.” He flicked his gaze at her for a moment as he continued to walk, now passing robos loading stacks of the clear cages onto cargo haulers. “My special customer likes to play with what he eats before he dines. You’ll do nicely. Provide enough amusement and he might even let you live longer than his last slave did. I’m told human limbs can be regenerated, up to a point.”

  Mira thought she was going to be sick but the paralysis kept her rebellious stomach muscles in check. “You’ll never get away with this.”

  “We get away with this, as you put it, all the time. Your human authorities are either uncaring or stupid, or too preoccupied with the Mawreg war to spend energy on smaller operators like me. My merchandise and I slip through their fingers like so many silvery shooting stars.” He juggled her awkwardly for a moment while opening a portal. “Of course I pay significant bribes.”

  None too gently, her captor laid her on a rusting table once inside the new chamber. “I’ve got critical arrangements to oversee. I’ve stung you again, by the way, before you woke. The new dose of venom won’t wear off before I return to collect you,” he said. “And then we’re going on board my ship.” He took her jaw in one hand, turning her head left and right, before fingering her hair, a frown on his face. “You’ll need a few cosmetic modifications to completely match the specifications the customer wants. Nothing we can’t accomplish on my ship. Behave and I’ll let you go through the painful procedures unconscious.”

  Odd, I feel as if the venom is wearing off pretty fast. Maybe he used so much on me originally that the potency was reduced for the second sting. Mira tried to control her fear, and to project the impression she was more paralyzed than she actually was, so he wouldn’t consider trying again.

  The conductor allowed her head to fall against the table with a thud. Chuckling to himself, he left the room, the portal slamming shut behind him. Indicating the lock had been engaged, a raucous buzz sounded.

  Mira rolled off the table, keeping herself from falling with a desperate grab at the corners. Slowly she gathered her legs under her and turned to look desperately around the small, windowless cubicle. Other than the table she’d been placed on and a pile of rotted wire, rusty metal and trash in one corner, the room was empty. There was no ceiling, other than the roof of the warehouse far above, but the walls of the room extended much higher than she could jump. The table was bolted to the floor, so she couldn’t move it to aid in climbing. Mira tottered to the pile of debris, falling to her knees, hoping to find a jagged fragment she could use as a weapon. If the conductor got her to his ship, she was done for. She’d fight to survive and the element of surprise when he returned to collect her might help, especially if she could find a makeshift blade.

  There was nothing useful in the miscellaneous debris but when she shifted the pile Mira blinked as a flash of light seeped into the room from the corner. The thin metal siding of the outer wall had come loose from the frame as it corroded over time and was bent a bit outward. She pushed on the panel and was rewarded with a few more inches of clearance. Several rivets popped loose, allowing her to make progress but then the remaining fasteners held and the warped metal refused to bend further. Going to the debris, she found a short metal rod and used it to pry the siding apart a bit more before the makeshift rusted tool snapped. Anxious about the noise she was making, Mira worked as fast as she could but her hands were trembling and her arm muscles lacked their usual strength, no doubt lingering effects of the venom. The metal edges cut her hands so she tore strips from her skirt to use as bandages and made one last effort to bend the panel far enough out of its track for her to squeeze through.

  “Now or never,” she muttered. Moving carefully, she slid her leg through the narrow gap she’d created and then contorted her body to ease past the jagged metal wall. Rough edges caught her shoulder, easily tearing through her dress and skin. The pain nearly made her black out but she fell forward onto the ground and crawled a few feet away from the building, taking refuge under a scrubby, overgrown bush. She found herself in an industrial area, seemingly deserted. Staring at the blank-faced buildings stretching along the empty road in both directions made her heart sink. She’d no idea where she was or if anyone would help her, even if she was lucky enough to find an occupied structure. For all she knew, the whole area harbored the slaver operation or similar criminals.

  “Trust no one,” she muttered. Desperate to escape, she was gathering her energy to stand and run, when a flash of light in the western sky caught her eye. A large freighter was landing which meant the spaceport must be in that direction. Her only hope was to get across the city lines, into the area advertised as a safe zone for offworlders, and find a policeman. Remembering the long limo ride of the night before was daunting, because she knew she was far from any source of help, but she’d no other choice.

  Alarmed by how shaky she felt, Mira got to her feet, wincing at the pain from her shoulder. She started limping as fast as she could, praying to the Lords of Space she could escape her enemies and find a safe place to hide. As weak as she was right now, hiking all the way to the city was a long shot. She’d have to keep to the side of the street, as much trouble as she was having with walking, get as far away as she could and be ready to take cover if she heard sounds of pursuit.

  Clint parked the car behind a building several blocks away from the one the police sergeant had pinpointed as the site of last night’s suspicious concert. Drawing his stunner, wishing it was a blaster, he moved along the line of warehouses and storage facilities, keeping to what cover there was. He held his breath and remained motionless as a large cargo hauler proceeded down the street, engine groaning, coming from the building where Mira had probably been kidnapped. He wondered what the truck was carrying and hoped she wasn’t even now being driven away, deeper into captivity.

  As he got closer, he realized there was quite a stir of activity at the building in question. Rounding the corner of the last warehouse before the one he sought, he was amazed to see a battered, bloody Mira staggering along the street in his direction. Clint sprinted to her, hugging her for a moment before sweeping her into his arms and hastening into the dubious shelter of a recessed doorway in the next structure.

  Shaking, she clutched him tight. “I don’t know what brought you here but thank the Lords you found me.”

  “Ever since the damn ‘Lites boa
rded the shuttle without you this morning I’ve been out searching. I wasn’t going to abandon you on this fucking planet.” Gently he touched her shoulder, evaluating the injury. “Looks painful but superficial.” Tearing a strip from his shirt, he wrapped the area to stop the bleeding.

  She bore his ministrations patiently even though his efforts must have hurt. “Did the ‘Lites tell you where I was?”

  He shook his head. “Completely unhelpful. A local cop gave me a tip about this place.”

  “I shouldn’t have gone with them but I figured what was the worst that could happen?” She gave him a wavering smile. “As soon as the limo drove away from the club, I knew I’d made a mistake.”

  He couldn’t help himself. “So why did you leave with them? I tried to stop you but I was a minute too late. Ordinary people like us don’t belong in the ‘Lites’ world.”

  “I know.” Her voice was quiet. “I—I wasn’t having a good time where we were and Lindy insisted I should come to the concert. She made the idea sound like fun, a chance to see how the other half lives, you know? Did I really hear you calling my name as we drove away?”

  “I tried to catch you, to keep you from leaving, to beg you not to go actually,” he said. “I was hoping we’d have a chance to get to know each other better on this shore leave, away from the ship, but dancing in a loud club wasn’t the right place for the kind of conversation I wanted. I was stupid, letting Becca distract me. I took too long to claim my slow dance to your special song, didn’t I? I’m sorry. I never would have forgiven myself if something had happened to you.” Clint tried to inject all the emotions in his heart as he made his apology. Mouth open, Mira stared at him wordlessly, so he added, “I’ve got a car parked two streets over. Can you walk?”

  “I’ll make it.” She wiped tears off her cheeks and clenched her hand on his sleeve. “There are dozens of humans in cryo cages in the building I escaped from. The conductor told me the prisoners will be shipped offworld and sold outside the Sectors. We can’t leave them.”

  “We’ve got to get away first, before we can help them.” He put his arm around her waist to support her and drew her into retreating. “We’re outside the city limits right now, so no one will come to our assistance.”

  Shouting broke out behind them.

  “They know you’ve escaped,” he said. “We’ve got to make it to the car. Can you go any faster?”

  She shook her head. “I’m groggy from the venom. I was stung twice, although the second dose of poison didn’t affect me as severely as I let the conductor believe. Maybe he overused his venom supply.”

  He swept her into his arms and ran, as the shouting intensified. “Any idea how many we’re up against?”

  “There were a lot of staff people the night of the concert but today when the conductor walked me through the warehouse I only saw two sentients besides him. Mostly cargo robos, loading the cages onto trucks.”

  A blaster beam sizzled through the air, uncomfortably close, setting the grass on fire to Clint’s left. He zigzagged and got behind the next building, then cut through an alley. “Can’t let them cut us off from the car.” He burst into the open, sprinting toward the vehicle, ordering the doors to open and the engine to initiate so he could deposit Mira in the passenger seat and scramble to the other side to get in himself.

  “Trucks are blocking the exit,” she screamed.

  “Get down.” He yanked the car into a violent spin and drove toward the rear of the parking lot, away from the two cargo haulers moving into position to deny him access to the street exit. He had no idea what lay beyond the fence but he hoped for another way out. The car jerked and slewed as it was hit with blaster beams. The onboard AI shrilled alarms. Clint glanced at Mira. “Your conductor doesn’t want to let you go.”

  “What can I do to help? Do you have another weapon?” she asked, checking the rear vids.

  “Stunner only. Not allowed to carry deadly weapons on the planet.” He flashed her a grin. “Although if I’d had time to make a round trip to the Zephyr first, I’d have brought an arsenal and to hell with legalities. Hang on!”

  The ground car rammed into the fence, splitting the material, and kept moving, although the engine stuttered. Clint was surprised at how much abuse the vehicle was taking. He called for full power and drove west, toward the city and potential assistance. A sleek sports model flew out of a side street, forcing him to take evasive action and he barely missed an oncoming cargo hauler. The driver of the sports car shot at the groundcar’s undercarriage. Swearing, Clint accelerated and threw the car into a 180 degree turn, as if he was going to ram the other driver. Engine screeching, the sports car lifted straight into the air to avoid the collision and landed behind Clint, already speeding up to overtake him.

  “Not good, this is not good,” he said. The controls were growing sluggish and the overtaxed car’s speed was diminishing. “He must have done serious damage with those blaster shots.”

  “What are we going to do?” Mira held onto the seat with clenched fingers, but her voice was calm.

  Before he could answer, the decision was taken out of his hands, as the car was enveloped in a blast of flame, flipped and careened across the road, coming to rest upside down against a rock wall. Sickening sharp pain in his left leg made him dizzy and Clint struggled to get free of the crash restraints. Mira stopped screaming and tried to undo the straps holding him captive.

  “I’m trapped,” he said. “Take the stunner, try to get away.”

  She took the weapon he shoved at her but shook her head. “I’m not leaving you.”

  “They’ll be here any second, you’ve got to go.”

  “Better than I expected.” The sibilant voice coming from right outside the groundcar sounded triumphant. “Not only do I recapture my little lost human but she brought me another prisoner as well. Get out of the car, girl.”

  For answer, Mira shot at the conductor as he opened the door. He staggered as the force of the stun beam hit him, but then shook himself like a dog shakes off water, laughing. “Your puny weapons don’t work on me. Innovana’a are immune to this particular tech.” Reaching inside, he grabbed her wrist, twisting hard enough to break the bone unless she dropped the stunner. Immediately he exerted force to drag her from the car.

  Clint stabbed the alien’s forearm at an awkward angle, not doing much damage but causing the enemy to swear and retreat. Shaking his fist at them, he said, “When my men arrive, we’ll take care of both of you and you’ll regret all the trouble you’ve caused me.”

  Mira huddled closer to Clint, arms around his neck. “What are we going to do now?” she whispered.

  “We’re pretty hosed and I don’t think help is going to arrive in time to do us any good. I’m sorry,” he said. “You need to take the knife, crawl over me, get out of the car and run before his thugs get here.”

  “I’m not leaving you,” she said again.

  The rumble of a cargo hauler’s engine came closer. Clint tried to reason with Mira. “I called for backup, don’t know if anyone is coming or not, but if you stay on the move, you might be okay.”

  Before she could answer, there was a roar from overhead and a powerful flyer buzzed the street where they’d crashed. Clint craned to see what was happening. “It’s the Zephyr’s flitter. Jake must have come to help.”

  The ship set down as close as it could get, and several armored security officers emerged on the run, weapons at the ready. “Hands up, Innovana’a,” said the man in the lead. “There’s nothing we’d like more than to take you down if you resist.” While the point man held the conductor in place, his comrades, weapons at the ready, came to the wrecked ground car.

  “You two all right?”

  Clint recognized the voice. Red Thomsill, second in command of the Zephyr’s security force. “A bit battered and bruised but we’ll survive. Listen, those guys have a warehouse full of human prisoners.”

  “We won’t let them escape.”

  Two planetar
y police flyers landed next to the shuttle and cops poured out, weapons hot. Several took custody of the conductor and his henchmen.

  Clint heard sirens in the distance, growing closer. As Red and Jayna worked to free him from the car, while Mira stood by making suggestions, he said, “How did you get the local police interested in our party?”

  “Captain Fleming’s been working his way up the planetary bureaucracy all day,” Red said. “He’s not a patient man, you know? And he went rogue comet when Jake relayed what you’d found out. Fleming’s a good guy. Never leaves a man or woman behind.”

  “Weren’t you were supposed to be long gone by now though? Heading through hyperspace toward our next port?” Clint asked, mostly to distract himself from the pain of anyone touching his leg.

  “In an amazing coincidence, apparently there was another problem with the late cargo.” Red gave him a slow wink. “Brace yourself. On three—”

  Jake sauntered over as Red and Jayna levered Clint carefully out of the crashed car and laid him on the pavement. Jayna opened a medical kit, stabilizing his leg with skills acquired as a battlefield medic in the military. The local detective in the charge of the operation, suit as impeccable as ever, followed Jake.

  “Thanks for breaking my case open,” he said to Clint. He nodded at Mira. “This your girl, the one you were hellbent on rescuing?”

  Clint nodded, a little embarrassed. “Mira Gage, meet Detective Browlarr.”

  The two shook hands.

  “You were damn lucky this guy cares so much, miss. And that your captain has his back. I gotta go take charge of the scene at the warehouse,” the detective said. “What do you want to do?”

  “What do you mean?” Mira asked. “He obviously needs medical treatment for his injured leg.”

  Browlarr tilted his head and gave Clint a meaningful glance. “This planet might not be the healthiest place for either of you right now.”

  Remembering the sergeant had told him how witnesses had a way of disappearing and suspects died in custody, Clint grabbed her hand. “We’re not going to be treated anywhere but on board the Zephyr. She has to leave orbit and we’ve got to go with her, right, boss?” Hoping the commander would pick up on his intensity, Clint looked to Jake even as he addressed the detective. “You won’t need us for witnesses with all the evidence you’ve got and all the other people you’re going to rescue over at the warehouse, right, Browlarr?”