by Cheree Alsop
“What’s happening?” she asked.
“The ship’s under attack,” Devren said, his words tight.
They both listened to gunfire and explosions that rocked the massive starship. Liora could only imagine the destruction that was happening beyond the door. She glanced at Devren. The Lieutenant’s hands were clenched into fists so tight his knuckles were white. Red marks around his wrists showed the impact of the handcuffs, but he no longer fought them. Devren stared intently at the door; only the shallow rise and fall of his chest made him more than a statue as he listened to the battle they couldn’t see.
Footsteps caught Liora’s ears.
“Someone’s coming,” she told him.
Awareness of what would happen if an armed assailant entered the room tightened her muscles. She wouldn’t have much of a chance bound to the wall, but Liora refused to go down without a fight.
The door burst open. Officer Straham appeared through a haze of smoke. A gash colored the side of his face in red and powder burns soiled his pressed uniform.
“Lieutenant Devren, you’re needed on the bridge,” the officer said, gasping for air.
“What’s going on?” Devren demanded.
Officer Straham fumbled with the cards he held. It took him a moment to slip the right keycard into the handcuff on Devren’s right wrist. His gaze was distant as if he was seeing something other than the scene in front of him.
“Officer Straham,” Devren repeated, “What’s happening?”
The man paused at Devren’s question.
“C-Captain Metis is dead,” the officer stuttered.
Emotions flashed through Devren’s gaze. Officer Straham released one handcuff and turned to the other. Devren stood there as if stunned.
“What…who…” He shook his head and forced out, “Who is attacking?”
“Revolutionaries, though they’re a mixed clan,” Officer Straham replied. He slipped the keycard into the hole in the metal and the second handcuff slipped off.
Devren rubbed his wrists mechanically.
“You’re the officer in charge,” Officer Straham told him. “You’re the captain now.”
Devren looked at the officer as if he truly heard him for the first time since Straham’s news.
“What did you say?” he asked.
“You’re the captain,” Straham repeated. “The ship needs you, sir. We’re in serious trouble.”
Devren gave a sharp nod. “Let’s go.” He glanced at Liora and paused.
Another explosion rocked the ship. Both men leaned into the crash to keep from falling over.
When Devren met Liora’s eyes, the intensity of his gaze startled her.
“I need to know if you’re telling the truth,” he said.
“Shouldn’t we leave her here?” Straham protested.
The ship shuddered as though it was about to fall apart.
“Everyone deserves a chance to fight for their life,” Devren replied. “But I need to know for sure.” He grabbed Liora’s shirt. Before she could react, he lifted the back.
A dozen emotions ran through Liora. Anger, humiliation, and embarrassment came first. The need to protect herself filled her limbs with strength. Liora tensed, ready to take them both down whether her hands were cuffed to the wall or not.
The want to fight fled at a glimpse of Devren’s expression. The shock of seeing the hundreds of scarred burn marks across her flesh from Malivian’s favorite torture device along with the other scars of being raised Damaclan showed in Devren’s gaze. Even Officer Straham appeared less adamant at the sight.
“Uncuff her,” Devren said in a tone Liora couldn’t read.
His dark eyes studied her face. Liora turned away on the pretense of bracing herself against another shudder.
As soon as her handcuffs were free, Devren was out the door. The sound of yelling, beeping monitors, and gunshots echoed down the hall as Devren and Liora ran behind Officer Straham. Acrid smoke filled the air and the flashing lights and detonations turned the starship into a battlefield of chaos.
They rounded the corner and a volley of gunfire met their charge.
“Look out!” Devren yelled.
They fell back into an alcove.
“There’re guns down hallway thirteen,” Devren said.
Liora glanced over her shoulder. The brief sprint would expose them to the trigger-happy Revolutionaries.
“Run for it,” she shouted over the uproar. “I’ll distract them.”
“What are you— Liora!” Devren called.
Liora took off up the hall. The gunfire paused as if the Revolutionaries hadn’t expected an unarmed attacker to charge straight at them. She saw the lead human’s eyes narrow.
“Damaclan!” he yelled. “Shoot her down!”
Guns aimed and fingers tightened on triggers. Liora was almost to them. She wasn’t afraid of pain, but the impending threat of a dozen bullets sent adrenaline surging through her frame.
Liora leaped at the wall without slowing her run. Bullets whizzed past her with the sound of angry swarthans cutting through the air. As soon as her right foot met the wall, she pushed off and soared to the left, arching over the shocked Revolutionaries. The slight squeaks of shoes on the waxed floor met her ears with a bizarre hint of hilarious normalcy amid the chaos.
Liora’s feet hit the ground. She turned to meet her attackers and her body fell into the grace of her Damaclan ancestry. A sweep of her forearm knocked three guns to the right. She slammed her left palm into the first human’s throat and brought her elbow back to drop a gray-furred Ventican. His gun clattered to the ground. Liora dove for it and rolled back to her feet. She used the gun to batter three others to the left and slammed the barrel into another human’s head.
Liora shot an orange-scaled Belanite and a gilled female Salamandon, then ducked in time to miss a thrown Zamarian star. She dove at her attacker, barreling the human to the ground. A quick roll of the shoulders and a push off of the tiled floor had her behind the human with the Revolutionaries’ guns aimed at the rebel’s body. The caliber of the bullets in the barrels she stared down would tear through them both. Liora gritted her teeth, determined to take as many Revolutionaries with her as she could.
Gunshots rang out from down the hall. Liora’s attackers fell right and left until only Liora stood with the last human still caught in her headlock. She lifted his jaw to the left, straining his neck to full tension. Using a microburst of strength, Liora jerked left again. A pop sounded and the human’s limbs relaxed. She let him fall to the ground.
“What was that?” Devren demanded when he caught up to her.
“A diversion,” Liora replied. She looked from one rebel to the next, checking to make sure they were down for good.
“That wasn’t a diversion,” Devren argued. “That was idiotic!”
The calm that always filled Liora after a fight must have shown in her gaze when she looked at Devren. Whatever argument he was about to say next left. His eyes narrowed and he gave a shake of his head. “Let’s go.”
Liora grabbed a gun from a fallen rebel and followed Officer Straham and Devren up the hall. They led the way as if it was second-nature to them. Both officers met the skirmishes they ran into without hesitation. Liora respected their determination and matched their aggression. By the time they reached the bridge, a trail of bodies showed in their wake.
The doors slid open to reveal a battered-looking crew. Fallen Revolutionaries littered the ground. Weary but defiant gazes and raised guns met their entrance from the crew ready to defend against further attack. The relief that filled their expressions when they realized they weren’t under fire again told of how hard the battle had been.
Devren didn’t waste time. “Officer Hyrin, what is our status?” he asked as he made his way to the chair in the center of the bridge.
“The shields are down completely,” Hyrin reported. The skinny Talastan’s fingers shook as he ran a hand through his yellow hair. “The warp drive is dow
n and we’ve lost half our cannons. We’re sitting ducks.”
“Where’s the Osprey Kirkos?” Devren asked. “We can use the ship’s firepower.”
Liora kept her face carefully expressionless at the mention of the ship in which she had been kept a prisoner. Inside, her stomach clenched.
“The ship fled at the first sign of attack. Apparently, the owner had exaggerated a few of its damages.” Officer Hyrin’s tone left no doubt how he felt about the deception.
“Tell me about our attackers,” Devren said.
“The Revolutionaries have a Copper Crow,” a humanoid with purple hair answered. She glanced back at Devren from her computer near the main screen and her purple eyes showed her worry. “They’ve put extra shielding over the hull. Our concentrated firepower has yet to put a dent in her.”
A resounding explosion rocked the ship. Those crew members not seated grabbed onto the walls and computer panels for support.
“Here,” an older man with dark skin and bands woven through his ears directed Liora. “Take a seat.”
He pulled a chair from a panel on the wall and motioned for Liora to sit down. She did so just before another explosion hit them. She grabbed the Earthling’s hand before he fell and helped him to the seat beside her own.
“How did they transport aboard?” Devren demanded. Frustration that his ship was being torn to pieces showed in his angry gaze. His hands gripped the armrests of his captain’s chair.
“They must’ve gotten someone aboard the Kratos from the last Gaulded,” a girl with slicked-back green hair and matching green skin said. “We have reports of encounters all over the ship.”
“Seal the doors,” Devren commanded.
Everyone stared at him.
“But Captain,” Hyrin protested. “The crew will be at their mercy until we can overhaul the Kratos.”
Devren met the Talastan’s wide eyes with a look that gave no room for argument. “If the Revolutionaries attack the bridge in force, we lose the ship for good. Let’s hope that our crew can remember their training and return lead for lead until we are able to get far enough from their ship that they’ll stop transporting over. Otherwise, the Kratos will be our coffin.”
Hyrin’s Talastan eyelids blinked sideways and he touched the screen of the computer in front of him. The door next to Liora slid shut, blocking out the sounds of multiple gunfights. A moment later, a pop sounded followed by a dull hum. The scent of acrid smoke filled the air.
“The doors are sealed,” Hyrin said in a flat voice.
The ship rocked.
“But we’re still being decimated,” the purple-haired humanoid reported. “Captain, if we don’t disable that Crow, the Kratos will have enough holes to meet the black regardless of our internal firepower.”
Devren stared at the screens in front of him as if searching for an answer. On one panel, the blueprint of the SS Kratos showed several locations on the hull that blinked red. Another monitor revealed spiking engine temperatures. A shockwave sounded and two more panels lit up. The ship was indeed being shot to pieces.
“Captain?” Hyrin asked nervously.
“What do we do?” the green-skinned girl queried when Devren didn’t answer.
Liora’s muscles tightened with each percussion. The fact that Malivian had fled instead of assisting the Coalition ship stayed in the back of her mind. There was no doubt the Revolutionaries had stopped to loot the Kirkos that had only barely survived another pillaging attempt. Malivian had probably hoped the presence of a Coalition starship would protect him until he got his ship to a repair station. When that plan failed, he had run like the coward she knew he was.
The SS Kratos jarred sideways.
“Captain!” Hyrin shouted.
Devren stood, his expression sharp. “Officer Shathryn, dump the cargo holds and the trash bay.”
“Yes, Captain,” the girl with the purple hair answered.
“Officer O’Tule, dump the secondary water cache and the holding room.”
“The Coalition won’t be thrilled about us abandoning the salvage,” Hyrin pointed out.
“We need to make this ship as light as we can if we’re going to force the thrusters with damaged shields,” Devren replied.
The crew stared at him as if he was insane. Devren grabbed onto the arm of his chair as if another explosion had rocked the ship.
Liora hadn’t felt anything. She watched the captain closely.
“Officer Hyrin, put all power into the thrusters. On my go, dump missiles from box four, five, and six. When we run, we’ll use their explosions to hide our course.”
“Yes, Captain,” Hyrin replied.
Liora watched the yellow-haired Talastan push several buttons. Sweat had broken out across his skin.
“Salvage and secondary water are dumped,” Officer O’Tule announced in quick, clipped words as if she couldn’t get them out fast enough. “We’ve created quiet the mess out there. I hope the Coalition doesn’t mind us littering. Last time, their fines were quiet heavy and I’d hate to take a cut of pay just to—”
“Cargo holds and trash are clear,” Officer Shathryn cut in.
“Ready, Hyrin?” Devren asked.
At the man’s quick nod, Devren turned his attention to the monitor.
“Two more blows and we lose our shields completely,” Officer Straham called.
“We only need one,” Devren said. “Wait for them to fire. As soon as the aftershocks are gone, drop the missiles and perform the jump. Officer Duncan, prepare the crew.”
The man next to Liora touched his earpiece and his voice came over the speakers. “Attention crew of the SS Kratos, brace yourselves for a run.”
“I hope they’re ready,” Shathryn whispered worriedly to O’Tule.
“If not, they’ll be flying across hallways and quarters like a ball caught in a Gaul’s horns,” O’Tule replied.
Liora had no idea what the tiny woman meant, but she braced herself as O’Tule took Shathryn’s hand. Their fingers intertwined and they watched the monitors in front of them with matching anxious expressions.
A warning siren sounded.
“Hold,” Devren called.
A moment later, the ship was knocked sideways. Devren caught himself against the chair. Liora saw blood slick the metal where it impacted his side. Devren straightened.
After quick glance at the screens in front of them, Devren shouted, “Now, Hyrin!”
A sound of sliding metal followed. Two percussions sounded, and Liora was knocked backwards in her seat.
Chapter 3
“Status update,” Devren called out.
Liora blinked in the darkness that filled the bridge. Emergency lighting flickered on overhead and cut dimly through the smoky haze.
“The hull is intact,” Officer Shathryn said. Her purple hair was mussed and her fingers were still linked with the green-skinned officer next to her as if neither could believe they had made it.
“Pursuit?” Devren asked.
A moment later, Hyrin replied, “No sign of them, Captain.”
A cheer went up from the crew.
“Officer Duncan, tell our troops to hold their ground and radio if they need backup.”
The man beside Liora pushed the button on his headset. His calm, deep voice reverberated through the cabin and down the halls.
“Crew of the SS Kratos, we have successfully jumped away from the Revolutionaries’ ship. Take down any hostiles in your area with extreme prejudice. They have no retreat left and should surrender if they know what’s smart.” A small smile creased the man’s lips. “And if you are in need of assistance, feel free to radio and a hundred officers will be there immediately.”
Hyrin chuckled and Devren gave Officer Duncan a smile.
“Was that necessary?”
“Yes, Captain,” Officer Duncan replied in the same calm tones. “Instill fear in the enemy, then smash them dead. Officer training one-oh-one.”
Devren sank into the captain’s
chair with a shake of his head and another wry smile. “If we had a hundred men, we wouldn’t be in this mess.” His smile fell. “Where is Captain Metis’ body?”
“In the med wing,” Officer Straham said. Any enthusiasm at surviving the encounter fled his face at the words. “Officer Tariq pronounced him dead on arrival.”
Devren nodded. He sat up straighter and Liora saw him wince. A glance around the room showed that none of the other crew members had noticed.
“What is our destination?” Hyrin asked.
“Set her down on the closest asteroid you can find. We’ll make stationary repairs and limp our way to Titus to resupply,” Devren answered.
“Yes, Captain.”
Devren rose and stumbled.
Liora was ready. Before the closest officers could react, Liora caught the captain and lowered him carefully to the ground. She pulled back his jacket. Blood soaked the black material from a wound in Devren’s side.
Officer O’Tule gasped at the sight of mangled flesh. “Oh no! The captain’s been hit!”
“I need a med kit,” Liora said.
“I’ll get it,” Duncan answered.
Liora gave Devren a dry look. “You weren’t planning to tell anyone you got shot?”
“Lieut— I mean Captain, when did that happen?” Officer Shathryn asked, her face pale.
“We startled some rebels when we left the brig,” Devren replied, his voice tight.
His gritted teeth and the tight muscles in his neck told Liora how much pain he was in. The thought that the human had gone so long with such a wound amazed her.
“It looks like the bullet went shallow, tearing you open instead of lodging inside,” she assessed.
Officer Duncan dropped to his knees next to them and opened the box he carried. Liora riffled through the contents and withdrew the tools she needed. Duncan set them efficiently on a cloth he spread across the floor.
Blood flowed from the wound. It caked Devren’s pants where it had bled during the attack. By his pale skin, Liora knew she didn’t have time to waste.