by Zen DiPietro
He let out a slow breath. “So, what’s the plan?”
“There are few options. Normally, small, fast ships would be deployed from the docking station. We have no access to those ships, since the station was damaged along with the elevators, leaving us unable to release those vessels. We can only send up ships capable of atmospheric landings, and there are few small, fast ships that can do that.”
A piece of knowledge clicked into place in his mind. “Gretch has one. I’ve obtained parts for it. He’s going up, isn’t he?”
“Yes. He’s a greatly skilled pilot, and he knows his ship better than anyone. Hopefully he can detonate those missiles while they’re far enough from Briv that they won’t matter.”
As a connoisseur of people, Cabot could divine the other thing she wasn’t telling him. “You’re going with him.”
She dipped her head in acknowledgement. “The military we have on the ground is preparing for battle or beginning evacuations. With my background in science, I am as qualified to assist him as just about anyone else, aside from a weapons specialist.”
He had a feeling he would regret his next words. “Then I suggest you take me with you as well. I’m a specialist of many things that are bought and sold, including weapon systems for ships. I’m particularly familiar with the capabilities of Gretch’s ship, since I sold that weapon system to him, along with various propulsion upgrades.”
She silently watched him through the display for a long moment. “You have technological expertise about these systems?”
“Yes. I’m no mechanic, but I know the components I sell inside and out.”
Brak let out a heavy breath. “Then you should come with us.”
“Don’t act so happy about it.” He probably shouldn’t make jokes, but he knew from long experience that humor could act as a lifeline in a crisis.
“I’m glad for the assistance. Gretch will be, as well. I’m just sorry it’s going to put you in harm’s way.”
“We’re all in harm’s way. I might as well be doing something to help rather than cowering in a shelter.”
Amusement lightened the seriousness in her eyes. “That’s something we have in common.” She rolled her shoulders back. “Right, then. I’ll be by the station shortly, and we’ll proceed together to Gretch’s launchpad.”
“He has his own launchpad? He’d been holding out on me. Once all this is over, I’m going to give him an additional ten percent markup.”
Brak let out a snort of laughter. “I’ll see you in about fifteen minutes. Meet me on the north side of the station, outside the side entrance.”
“Is it safe out there?”
Her chin lifted with pride. “Yes. And it will remain so for as long as we keep Barony away. My people will not go crazy when they realize what’s happening. There will be no looting, no trampling one another. A time of crisis is an opportunity to show our true honor.”
Impressive. “Fifteen minutes, then.”
Having a plan of action, however crazy and dangerous it seemed, felt better than being helpless.
***
“Then I’m going with you,” Nagali declared.
Cabot suppressed a groan. If there was a time he did not need Nagali throwing herself into something, it was now.
“Absolutely not. I’m going because I can serve a purpose. There’s no reason for you to go.”
“Yes. There is.” She sighed, produced a tiny knife from her voluminous right sleeve, then pulled back her left sleeve to expose her arm to her shoulder.
Omar let out a yelp of surprise when Nagali cut into the flesh of her underarm. “Be a dear and get me a towel, Omar.”
Muttering, he did as he was told.
Arlen exchanged a wide-eyed look of disbelief with Cabot, but he was far less shocked than he probably should be. It was Nagali, after all. She could do little to surprise him. He felt grimly confident that whatever she was about to reveal would be terrible.
And it was.
She pinched something black and about the size of a small marble from the inside of her upper arm. After using the towel to blot her arm and then the item, she held it in her palm for them to see.
“What is it?” Arlen asked.
Nagali looked entirely too pleased with herself. “Look.”
She opened the black sphere and let a tiny green ball roll into her palm.
“Prelin’s ass,” Omar breathed. His shocked gaze went to Cabot. “I swear I didn’t know about this.”
Cabot knew Brivinium when he saw it. He’d been unfortunate enough to have a large quantity of it on his hands not that long ago. Since Arlen had been the one to unintentionally bring it to him, she also recognized it on sight.
“You had that with you all this time? Under your skin? You could have blown us all up at any moment!” Arlen’s eyes had opened even wider.
Nagali scoffed. “It’s in a priyanomine case, lined with an inert layer, to prevent sensors from detecting it. It would have combusted only if we were in an explosion or thrown into an acid bath. Both cases seemed unlikely, and I figured, if either of those things happened, we wouldn’t much care if this thing blew up.”
Omar groaned and put his hands to his face.
Cabot refused to let her see him ruffled. “What was your plan for that?” He pointed to the sphere in her palm.
“I found it in a rock collection, if you can believe that. The Brivinium had been stolen, no doubt, and cut down to lessen its danger and make it easier to smuggle. Someone must have acquired it and figured it to be some semi-precious rock. I had only come across it just before you came to Dauntless. When I found out where you were headed, and I didn’t even have to con you to get a ride, I figured it was fate.”
Oh, he hated her blasé dismissal of a highly volatile, highly illegal-anywhere-but-on-Briv substance. Still, he had to admire her cleverness and willingness to take a risk.
He sighed. “We will discuss the events that led up to now after we manage to survive our current situation. I’ll take the Brivinium and give it to Gretch. He can decide what to do with it.”
“Absolutely not!” Nagali’s fist closed around the sphere. “Either I’ll hand it to him, or you’ll have to cut off my hand.”
Omar rolled his eyes. “Let’s not be melodramatic.” He looked to Cabot. “But if she’s going, I’m going.”
Arlen spoke up. “I’m not staying behind. I’m a good pilot, and can assist Gretch.”
Cabot sighed. He had only five minutes to get outside and meet Brak. No time to argue.
“Fine. Let’s go.”
***
“I agreed to let you come, not everyone you know on this planet.” Brak was not as displeased as she could have been, under the circumstances, but she was less than delighted.
“Unfortunately, we’re a package deal.” Cabot lifted his shoulder and ducked his head in a Briveen expression of apology.
“We don’t have time to argue. Let’s go.” She led them to a groundcar, a boxy, utilitarian vehicle that, fortunately, was made for large people.
They all just barely fit, with Nagali sitting on Omar’s lap. Omar had suggested Arlen, but she had enthusiastically declined.
Cabot was too preoccupied to enjoy his first car ride on Briv, or appreciate the lovely views that blurred by his window.
No one was inclined to talk. Not even Nagali. She appeared to be distracted by the scenery. Her arm might be sore where she’d cut it. They’d only had time to bandage. Or maybe she was thinking about the Brivinium she’d tucked into a pouch under her clothes.
He tried not to imagine what the car would look like if it exploded, and how far the shrapnel would travel.
He didn’t know Briveen road laws, but he was sure, by the way they all leaned sideways during turns, Brak was traveling faster than normal.
The urban landscape shifted, becoming less closely packed. They transitioned into rural surroundings, which made sense. A ship couldn’t take off from the surface in the middle of a city. T
he thrust necessary required a good deal of explosive force.
Outside the city, Brak drove even faster. Cabot wondered if they’d make it to Gretch’s launchpad in one piece.
An hour later, they came to a quick stop behind a retaining wall.
“Let’s go!” Brak barked, and they evacuated the car, hustling to the outbuilding.
A guard waited inside. He said something in Brivinian, the words sounding low and growly to Cabot, and Brak ushered them out again.
“They’re near the end of the launch sequence. If we were ten minutes later, he’d have left without us.”
Cabot wasn’t accustomed to running. He preferred a sedate stroll and struggled to keep up with Brak.
Arlen had her arm around Nagali’s waist to hasten her on. It was a brave thing to do, considering what Nagali carried under her clothes.
The hatch was open, its stairs folded down, and they ran into the ship, each one of them on the heels of the person before.
“Go!” Brak shouted to the pilot.
Behind them, the hatch hissed as it closed, folding upward and inward.
“You’d better strap in!” Gretch’s voice shouted over the noise that had suddenly amped up a couple hundred decibels.
Brak led them up to the cockpit, which was about the size of the Outlaw’s. Arlen took the copilot seat and Cabot sat at the science station. Brak occupied weapons control, and Omar folded down a jump seat and put his straps on.
“Headsets are under your seats!” Gretch yelled.
Cabot settled them over his ears, and the noise mercifully retreated. The others did the same.
Gretch’s voice came over a channel in the headsets. “I don’t know why there are so many of you, but you’re stuck now. Double-check your straps. If you’ve never done an atmospheric launch, this is going to be quite an experience.”
Brivinian words came over the headset and Gretch spoke back to the control station. Then the countdown began.
Ten…nine…eight…
When they got to one, the ship shuddered. The Briveen guard barked something that was undoubtedly, “Ignition” or “Launch!”
Even with the inertial dampeners, tremendous pressure forced Cabot into his seat, making it impossible to move. Making it hard to breathe.
“Hang in there,” Gretch said over the headset, though his voice was thin and strained.
Two minutes felt like an eternity when every breath was a struggle and Cabot felt like he’d be crushed any second. But then they cleared Briv’s exosphere and the atmospheric drag let go of them.
Cabot was never so glad to breathe freely.
“Everyone okay?” Gretch asked.
They all made some sort of affirmative sound.
“Good. The coordinates of the missiles are already locked in, and we will intercept them in forty minutes. We can remove our headsets now.”
After they’d all done so, Nagali turned her head to look at Cabot. He nodded.
She said, “I have something. I don’t know if it helps.”
Brak and Gretch twisted around to look back at her.
“What?” Brak asked.
Nagali struggled to get beneath her straps and then under her shirt to reach the pouch. After a third failed attempt, she burst out, “Ugh! Can I take off the straps?”
Gretch nodded, and Nagali freed herself, removed the pouch, and handed it to Brak.
Brak cupped one palm and tipped the contents of the pouch out into it. The tiny green orb rolled out. Brak stared. Gretch stared. Then they both stared at Nagali.
“I didn’t steal it,” she said defensively. “It was in a rock collection someone was selling. They didn’t know. I was just bringing it back where it belonged.”
“To sell?” Gretch asked, eyeing her dubiously.
“No! To give back the Briveen’s rightful property.”
“For free?” Brak also looked doubtful.
Nagali sighed. “Yes. For free. I was hoping it would open some doors for me to develop some trade ties here.” Then she added, “But I did want to see it get home.”
Brak tiled her hand, making the sphere roll. “I’ve never even seen it in person.”
Gretch took off his straps and leaned close. “Neither have I.”
Cabot found that surprising. Two Briveen natives who had never seen Brivinium and he’d seen it twice. He really did lead an eventful life.
“What do we do with it?” Arlen asked.
That got the Briveens’ attention. They looked at each other, wearing calculating expressions.
“It won’t help with the missiles. All we need to do is destroy their guidance systems. Either they go out into space to blow up, or we force them to explode right away. Either way, they won’t enter Briv’s atmosphere.”
“You make it sound easy,” Omar noted.
“It isn’t.” Gretch’s voice was flat. “There are three missiles, and we have to be directly between them and Briv. Then we’ll need to target their guidance systems, while they’re moving, without knocking them right into Briv. It doesn’t take much firepower, but it takes tremendous precision.”
“So the Brivinium’s useless?”
Again, he and Brak exchanged a look. She nodded.
“Not useless,” Gretch said. “It’s not helpful with the missiles, but it would be just about right for a Barony warship.”
Gretch and Brak watched them for reactions.
Arlen nodded. “Let’s do it.”
“I’m in,” Omar added.
“I’d be disappointed if we didn’t use the Brivinium,” Nagali said.
They were all crazy. And so was he. Cabot said, “We’re all in. Let’s take down a warship."
***
They didn’t talk as they counted down the minutes. They had gone over the plan so they were ready to act, but they waited it out in silence.
Finally, Gretch said, “There.” His eyes were locked on the display. “Arrival in two minutes. All hands, prepare for action.”
Gretch and Brak had done all the math. They’d calculated the vectors, the angles, and the timing, down to the second. Seconds meant the difference between success and letting those missiles land on Briv.
Gretch maintained the proper position, and they all held their breath as the missiles approached. “We’re on target,” he said tersely.
“Brak, get ready. Fire in five…four…three…two…one. Fire!” Then he said, “Second target in three…two…one…fire! And third target. Two…one...fire!”
From his seat in the back, Cabot couldn’t see the display, but he heard a sigh from Brak and Gretch.
“Two targets destroyed,” Brak said. “One target is spinning toward uninhabited space.”
Gretch allowed himself a mere moment to relish their success. Then he twisted around to look at them again. “Time to intercept the first warship is five hours if we burn hard. Seven if we leave enough left to get us back to Briv.”
“Let’s err on the side of having a chance to survive,” Cabot suggested.
He was surrounded by murmurs of agreement.
“Glad we’re all on the same page,” Gretch said. “Intercept in seven hours, then. Coordinates and speed locked in. Now we wait. Again.”
***
YOU CAN SAY the word warship. You can imagine its purpose. But there’s nothing like watching hundreds of thousands of metric tons of metal bear down on you while you sit in a teeny little ship.
Cabot felt like he’d slipped into a parallel universe. This wasn’t his life. He was supposed to be on Dragonfire, selling things to people.
But here he was, trying to save a planet with his ex-wife, ex-brother-in-law, and some friends.
“We have two options,” Gretch said. “We can load the brivinium onto a torpedo. It’s simple, and all we have to do is make sure the torpedo hits its target. However, we run the risk of the launch setting off the brivinium.”
“In which case the only thing getting blown up would be us,” Brak added, quite unnecessar
ily.
“Second option?” Omar asked, sounding peeved.
“We drop the sphere in their path, wait for them to come into range, then hit them with a torpedo. That’s less of an immediate risk to us, but instead of aiming at just one thing, we have to juggle three variables.”
“Probabilities of success of each?” Nagali asked, her tone so dry it was almost sarcastic.
Cabot sent her a warning glance.
Brak spoke. “Option one, thirty percent chance of success, give or take ten percent. Also, a twenty-four percent chance of our own destruction.”
“Those are bad odds,” Omar observed.
Brak ignored him. “Option two, twenty percent chance of success, give or take twenty percent, and a five percent chance of our own destruction.”
“That’s not very helpful,” Arlen said. She didn’t sound irritated, just perplexed.
“I vote for option two,” Cabot said. “It’s more complicated, but I think it’s more likely to succeed.”
“I kind of want to see if we’d blow ourselves up, but I agree option two sounds better,” Nagali said.
They all took a moment to stare at her.
“There’s something wrong with you,” Omar told her. “Always has been.” He shook his head. “But I vote option two as well.”
The others nodded.
“Looks like we’re unanimous,” Gretch said. “Okay. Let’s get on the calculations. First, we have to know where to drop the brivinium. That will determine what position we need to hold, and when we must fire. We’ll want to calculate multiple scenarios, and have formulas in place so we can make adjustments if necessary.”
For two hours, he and Brak poked away at the voicecom, crunching numbers, while the rest of them watched their fingernails grow.
“Oh, sure,” Omar said. “Just hanging out in space, doing power math so we can save a planet. You know. As one does.”
Arlen and Nagali laughed, and even Cabot had to smile.
“It’s not like the holo-vids, is it?” he asked.
“Nothing ever is,” Arlen agreed. She shifted her attention to Nagali. “Well, except maybe for you.”
They laughed again, earning themselves a dirty look from Brak, who was trying to concentrate.