oath forger

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oath forger Page 9

by Nia Mars


  This is what I know for sure: Olipha has been kidnapped, and I’m stuck on the ship with her and the kidnappers.

  This is what I suspect: The kidnappers are pirates who stole a Federation ship.

  This is what I need to find out: Is Olipha hurt?

  I’m almost certain that the sharp clap had been a weapon. She could be bleeding out on the floor right this second. The kidnappers are clearly capable of murder, proof being the dead congressman on the other side of the supply boxes.

  And the bad news keeps coming. A low humming starts under me that grows and grows—the engines starting. The airship shakes as it lifts.

  “Shit.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  OKAY, SO GETTING AWAY while still on the ground didn’t happen. I need a new plan. And I need to hang on, because, dammit, takeoffs and landings are best done strapped in. I hold on to one of the heavy boxes for dear life and hope my arms won’t be pulled from the sockets.

  Thank God we’re out of the planet’s atmosphere in a few minutes, then the ride smooths out, and there’s just a couple of seconds of my body floating up before the ship’s artificial gravitation kicks in, and I fall on my ass.

  I stand on shaky legs and draw a long breath.

  This is my fantasy: Open the door. Kill the pirates. Fly the ship back to port.

  This is my reality: I don’t know how to open the door. I have no weapon. I haven’t the first clue how to fly a spaceship.

  This is my first step: ...

  Truth time. I have no idea what my first step needs to be.

  While I keep an eye on the connecting door, I search the storage room again in the dim light, hoping for inspiration, or something I could use for a weapon. Canned soup? Not likely. The food comes in those edible bowls. Not a good-old-fashioned metal can in sight.

  Quick. I scramble. Something. Anything!

  Too late.

  A screeching sound brings me whirling around as the connecting door opens. Two men step through the gap: taller than me, wide faces, noses with slits on the sides, skin bluish as if they’re not getting enough oxygen. They look eerily alike. Twins? As soon as they see me, they seize me.

  I’m too stunned by their weird appearance to put up much of a fight.

  “What the fuck?” the one on my right shakes me by the arm.

  The one on my left pats me down for weapons. “How did you get in here?”

  I finally lurch into action, but land only a handful of punches and half a dozen good kicks before I’m held immobile once again. Note to self, their arms are freakishly strong. Also, their fingers have an extra joint each, reminding me of spider legs. I shudder.

  I stop struggling as I gasp for air. I know when I’m outmuscled. And they’re both armed. I don’t want to get injured this early in the game. So, I don’t resist when they take me to the command deck.

  There are four men in there, and I have no trouble picking out the captain. The rest look to him for direction.

  He’s the tallest of the four, standing by the display monitors that show nothing but star-speckled space. His eyes are small, a strange, pale yellowish-green. The color of bile. He, too, has the weird slits on either side of his nose, but his fingers don’t have the extra joints. There’s a lump in the back of his Federation uniform. As I stare, the lump moves.

  I swallow. He has a...tail?

  “I demand that you release me. Captain?”

  The crewmembers watch me with various degrees of menace while waiting for Lumpy to make a decision.

  I’m not optimistic. Something tells me this guy has a long history of making bad decisions. Exhibit A: he’s a pirate. Exhibit B: he just kidnapped the sister of a krek. Exhibit C: dead congressman.

  “Who are you?” he asks in a heavy accent. The way he speaks, each syllable is as sharp as a throwing knife.

  “Maintenance.” Where is Olipha? “I got stuck in the storage bay.”

  His yellowish eyes narrow. He’s not buying anything I’m selling. “I didn’t call for maintenance.”

  I shrug. “Someone sent a request.”

  He looks me over. “Why don’t you have a comm unit?”

  I brush my fingers over the collar of my overalls. “Fell off, I guess. I crawl around in engine compartments all day.”

  “You’re lying.” The slits on the sides of his nose flare then close, then flare and close again. “It doesn’t matter.” He strides over and reaches out, grabs my chin.

  Since my arms are held immobile behind me, I have no defense.

  His other hand comes up to cup my breast. He gives me a painful squeeze, and he grins. “We’ll take you as a parting gift from the Federation.”

  The men in the room laugh, beady eyes filled with approval and anticipation.

  “Two to go around are better than one.” The long-fingered bastard on my left gives my arm a squeeze. “Two for six, we don’t have to wait so long for a turn.”

  Lumpy smacks him upside the head and fixes him with a murderous look for good measure. “Nobody touches the princess.”

  Olipha is still alive. A hard knot inside me relaxes even as the men undress me with their eyes, the short ugly one going as far as rubbing his crotch. He’s all down with the idea of me being their in-flight entertainment.

  I swallow my revulsion and tell myself that anything is better than being dead. Don’t panic. There’ll be a chance to escape later.

  Except... Even if they don’t realize that I saw them take Olipha, they have to know that I saw the dead body in the storage bay. They can’t let me live. They’ll probably shove me out of the airlock long before we land.

  Perfect time to panic, my body says. My chest squeezes so hard that for a couple of seconds I can barely breathe.

  To hell with that. I force air into my lungs. Then I force my frozen muscles to move.

  Now is the time to fight.

  I know there are six pirates, and I know where they all are—in the room with me. I know Olipha is still alive, which means, if I can take the ship from the pirates, she can fly it back to Merim.

  These idiots think I’m some spoiled city girl from the Federation’s capital. That’s their first mistake. I’m a scavenger from Earth. I’ve been scavenging on the surface since I was a kid. I’ve had to fight for my life as hard as any pirate, maybe harder.

  I head-butt the captain, and his nose breaks with a sick crunch, blood squirting out of the slits onto his cheeks. While he howls, I kick him in the nuts as hard as I can, and he goes down. I stomp the shit out of the instep of the guy on my right, while elbowing the guy on my left with full force. Sadly, they manage to hang on to me.

  Their second mistake is to think that I’m scared of pain. You don’t know what pain is until a sandstorm takes off half of your skin.

  They twist my arms, hard. Instead of pulling back to ease the pressure, I throw my bodyweight forward. My left arm pops as that shoulder dislocates, but at the same time, I’m free of their grip. The guy on my left is throwing a full punch with his two-hundred pound weight behind it. Instead of ducking, I move into the punch, lining up my shoulder with his fist. As he hits me, the joint pops back in.

  I stagger back a step. The pain is blinding, but I’m still standing, and no one’s holding me.

  The other three men have their weapons out, but they don’t shoot. It’s a small, closed space, full of instrument panels. And the captain is between us, staggering upright. I kick him in the chin.

  He drops back down. As men grab for me, I bend to swipe the captain’s weapon out of his holster and hold it on them, retreating until my shoulder blades bang into the wall. Too bad I have no idea how to use the weird stick-shaped thing.

  All movement stops.

  Standoff.

  The captain is on his side on the floor, moaning and then shouting in their language.

  At the same time, I yell at the top of my lungs. “Olipha! If you can hear me, make some noise!”

  Nothing.

  “Olipha!”
<
br />   No response.

  Is she injured? That I don’t know Olipha’s condition worries me more than the fact that I’m still outgunned and vastly outnumbered.

  I figure I only have seconds. I swing the gun toward the main control panel. If I can figure out how to shoot it up, maybe the auto-override emergency landing procedures will take us back into port in Merim.

  Or I could hit something important and shut down life-support for the ship.

  The pirates know I’m trapped. I’m a good fighter, but now they know that, too. I have no surprises left. They know that six-to-one they’ll overcome me.

  They’re closing in around me, every alien face promising death. I can’t keep my eyes on all of them all at once, and that’s my downfall.

  While Shorty shouts threats at me and aims his gun at my head, drawing my attention, the captain lurches forward and manages to drive his head right into my stomach. When I’m doubled over in pain, he knocks the weapon from my hand.

  Pressure fills my brain. My peripheral vision dims.

  Not now. Not now. I can’t pass out. But the pressure is overwhelming, and the world starts to go black.

  Disoriented, I kick and shove against hard hands.

  Then my head explodes. God, it hurts. I drop to my knees as blinding pain pulses through my brain.

  Chapter Fourteen

  WHEN I COME TO, I CAN’T MOVE. I’m defenseless. I half-expect to be beaten to death by the angry pirates. Except, nobody is touching me. A good thing, since my head is already pounding with otherworldly pain.

  After a couple of agonizing seconds, my vision clears, and I can see again. I blink. All six men are lying against the walls as if thrown back by an explosion. The captain’s neck is at an odd angle, broken. I don’t see any injuries on the others, but it’s obvious that they’re all dead.

  Thump. Thump. Thump.

  For several seconds, I think the noise is my heart beating in my ears. Then I realize it’s coming from somewhere in the ship.

  “Olipha?” I stagger to my feet then hurry down the narrow hallway to investigate.

  Thump. Thump. Thump. “Help!”

  I find the right door and bang on the outside. “This is Ava. I’m here.”

  “Let me out!”

  “How?”

  “Use the emergency override.”

  I examine the keypad next to the door. “I don’t know what to push.”

  Olipha talks me through it.

  Then the door swooshes open, and she’s right there, holding one of her small boots as a weapon. “Tell me where to hit.”

  She looks fierce. Her cheekbone is bruised, stained with reddish purple.

  I check her for blood. “How badly are you hurt? I thought I heard a gunshot.”

  “Bad regulator. Makes a clapping noise when it starts. The ship was probably in port for repairs when the pirates grabbed it.” She grips her boot. “Where are they?”

  “It’s over,” I tell her. “All we need to do is turn the ship around and get back to Merim.”

  “Who else is here? Where’s Tiam?” Boot back on her foot, she’s heading to the command deck already, clearly familiar with the layout of Federation ships.

  I follow after her. “It’s just me.”

  She finds the command console by feel. When her toe bumps into the captain, she nudges him, testing. “Tell me it’s one of the pirates.”

  “It’s one of the pirates.”

  She kicks him harder, then again, until I grab the man’s feet and pull him out of her way. “They’re all dead.”

  She’s working the controls without hesitation, listening to the computer and, issuing commands with the kind of confidence that instantly makes me relax.

  “Who killed them?” she asks.

  “I’m not sure what happened.”

  “Were you kidnapped, too?”

  “I saw them take you. I snuck on board.”

  She opens her mouth, but before she could ask another question, the star map disappears from the display wall and Tiam’s outraged face appears. At the same time, our engines shut off, and we float silently in space.

  “Prepare to be boarded.” Tiam’s tone is a thinly-disguised death threat. “We have assumed control of the ship. If you want to live, I’d recommend a peaceful surrender.”

  “I think our side of the vid link is not turned on,” I say at the same time as Olipha swipes at a control. But by then, the screen has gone black. Tiam has signed off on the other end.

  Something jostles our ship. Boots slam on metal far down a corridor, the sound marching closer.

  When Tiam bursts in, gun drawn, I want to run into his arms more than I’ve ever wanted anything, but I hang back. He’s here for his sister. She gets priority.

  Also, I don’t know just how angry he is with me. I ran away for a second time, after promising him that I wouldn’t.

  And he... Oh God. It seems only minutes ago that we’d been kissing in the garden. And then he was with Captain Garet. My heart breaks all over again.

  My brain is officially a mess. Watching him doesn’t help.

  He is like the angel of death in his silver uniform: forbidding, his icy gaze sharp and murderous. He takes in the command deck with one glance, then he’s tucking his gun away and striding forward, Federal agents pouring in behind him.

  He grabs me with one hand and Olipha with the other and yanks us to his chest, squeezes us together in the circle of his arms. His voice is hoarse as he asks, “What the stars happened here?”

  The agents are checking the pirates.

  Olipha says, “Ava saved me.”

  Tiam kisses her forehead, his lips hesitating on her skin for a long moment, then his gaze cuts to me. “How?”

  Mutely, I shake my head. I’m trembling inside. The last half an hour just caught up with me, I guess.

  “Report,” he barks the single word over his shoulder.

  The agent who’s been bent over the pirate captain straightens. “All dead. My best guess is internal injuries. One broken neck.”

  “What happened?” Tiam asks again, and this time the question is aimed at me.

  My mind is swirling with wild thoughts and images. I can’t find the words to speak.

  “Are you hurt?” he asks. Both Olipha and I are included in the question.

  Olipha steps back. “I’m fine. Honestly. They just gave me a scare.”

  “Take her to my ship,” Tiam orders one of his men, then he sweeps me up into his arms.

  “I’m not hurt either.” I push against him. I can’t erase the image of him with Captain Garet.

  His face is a tight mask. “Then why is there blood coming out of your ear?”

  There is? I reach up, and sure enough, my fingertips come away sticky and red.

  “I’m taking you to the med unit,” he tells me in a clipped voice, then carries me off like a marauding pirate.

  I refuse to consider it a romantic gesture. I put my arms around his neck for support, but I don’t lay my cheek against his chest. “We could have made it back to port on our own.”

  He doesn’t respond. He looks straight ahead, breathing heavily. More from anger than effort.

  Then we are in the ship’s med unit, but instead of placing me into the healing egg thing, Tiam sets me down and pushes me against the wall, covers his body with mine, holding me immobile by my shoulders. He bends his head until we are nose to nose. His gaze is as cold as deep space, yet I feel incinerated.

  “What the stars were you thinking?” he yells. “Leaving the palace!”

  I blink. He’s never shouted at me before.

  His fingers tighten on my shoulders until they hurt. I flinch just as the doors open.

  Uthan strides in, shaved head glinting under the overhead lights, muscles bulging in his arms—an angry genie who’s just broken out of the bottle, ready to take on the world. “Let her go.”

  Tiam snarls at him. “Go back to your ship.”

  “Go see to your sister.” Uth
an steps closer, violence shimmering around him. His head and shoulders are thrust forward, his hands are in fists. His stance is a fighting stance, feet shoulder-width apart.

  I’m not used to seeing him like this. He’s usually the peacemaker.

  Before the two of them could launch into a scuffle, Dason shoves past them. “Is she all right?” His worried gaze settles on me. “Are you hurt?” And then, oblivious to the tension in the room, he pulls me from Tiam and enfolds me into his arms, taking me several feet away from the other two men.

  I burrow into the comfort and shelter that he is offering and ignore the low growl behind me. I don’t care what the other two think.

  Dason bends down until his face is buried in my neck. I let him do it for as long as he wants and wait until he pulls back on his own. His gaze is wounded when he looks at me. “Why did you leave us, Oath Forger?”

  I step away, and that’s when my knees finally buckle. I lean against the wall and open my mouth, wanting to ask them to just please give me a minute, but Dason grabs me before I could speak.

  “Your ear is bleeding!”

  I’m in the healing apparatus the next second, the top closing over me.

  The best thing about it is that I’m alone in the egg, and I finally get my minute of peace.

  Lights flash. The machine hums. Every muscle in my body relaxes. A few seconds ago, I was all riled up. Now I could fall asleep.

  When the unit opens with a soft hiss, three impatient masculine faces peer at me.

  “Minor damage to your left ear drum,” Uthan says. “It’s all fixed.”

  “How did you find us? Did you track Olipha?”

  “I had no idea Olipha was missing,” Tiam says with a scowl. “Tracked you through your translator.”

  I gape at him. I’m chipped like a freaking pet. I’m too exhausted to even argue anymore. “Could we just go back to the palace?”

  “We’ll be on our way as soon as I take you back to my ship.” Tiam’s voice softens. “Are you sure you’re not in any pain?”

  “I’m fine.” And then I remember. “But there is a body in the storage bay. A man wearing a purple robe. I think he’s from the Zebet.”

 

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