Fallen Empire 2: Honor's Flight

by Lindsay Buroker

  To her surprise, this time when she tried to yank her arm away, Leonidas let her go. She almost fell on her ass. She flailed her arms and kept from toppling, then spun and stalked up the ramp. Yumi was watching it all, her mouth open, her eyes wide.

  “The empire has your daughter?” Leonidas asked, his tone masked now, hard to read. “Why?”

  Alisa almost chose not to answer, having the urge to keep walking, to hide in the cargo hold and shut the hatch before Alejandro could make another attempt to have Leonidas cart her off to the imperials. Yet, in her frustration, she answered before she could debate the wisdom of doing so. And maybe a part of her hoped they would understand why she had done it if they knew, that they wouldn’t continue to think of her as a lowlife thief.

  “Not the empire. The Starseers. I saw the video myself. They took her right out from under my sister-in-law’s nose. And I have no idea where to even start looking. It was months ago. Mladenovic said… Oh, it doesn’t matter. It’s all lies.” Her frustration was threatening to bubble over into tears. This time, she did stalk inside, turning her back on all of them and fleeing to her cabin.

  Nobody stopped her. She locked the hatch and dropped onto her bunk, yanking the blankets over her head.

  Chapter 13

  It was hunger rather than a desire to see anyone that eventually drove Alisa to contemplate leaving her cabin. She had slept some, having nightmares of Jelena in a dark, cobweb-filled monastery being indoctrinated by the Starseers and turned into a monster who did not recognize her own mother. She’d woken from those horrible dreams, eaten the chocolate bar, then lay on her bed awake, her knees curled to her chin as time ticked past, barely noticed.

  Twice, someone had knocked at her hatch, but she had ignored it. With so many dangerous enemies looking for the people aboard her ship, she ought to be making plans to leave, but she had not felt like being that mature. She also wasn’t sure that Alejandro was not out there, plotting a way to drag her away and turn her over to his imperial thug allies.

  Her stomach growled, longing for real food, the chocolate forgotten. The smell of something cooking drifted through the vents, making her notice her hunger even more.

  Alisa rolled out of bed and headed for the lav. In the future, she would keep food and water stashed in her cabin for the days when she wanted to lock herself in and sulk like a toddler. She washed up, putting on her last change of clothing and hoping that the laundry machine could get the rest of that sticky stuff off the things she wadded up and stuck in the chute.

  When she ventured farther afield, she did so quietly, hoping she would find that Leonidas and Alejandro had packed up their belongings and left. She did not want to deal with either of them, did not want to see that disappointed expression in Leonidas’s eyes again. Better if she never saw either of them again. All they had brought was trouble. If they both left, then all she would have to deal with was Beck and his mafia issues. Even though the White Dragon people had tried to shoot them all just that morning, it seemed a simple problem in comparison to the artifact and the empire and all that Alejandro wanted to do.

  The tantalizing smell of freshly grilled meat and vegetables led her to the mess hall. Voices came from the room, and she was tempted to turn around, to wait a couple of hours more and hope for leftovers. But the food smelled too good to resist.

  Beck had his portable barbecue unit out, some kind of seasoned burgers cooking over the flames. A few were finished cooking and rested on a plate in the center of the table where Yumi and Mica sat. Leonidas was also there, leaning against the wall, no longer in his combat armor but no less intimidating in plain clothes. Alisa groaned to herself. If he was still here, Alejandro was probably still here too. What did she have to do to get rid of these people?

  Avoiding his gaze, she ducked past him to grab a bun and a burger. She avoided Mica’s and Yumi’s gazes, too, beelining for the rec room. The wide hatch usually stayed open, but she unhooked the chain and closed it behind her.

  She sat down at the table, ignoring the flashing lights on the surface that invited her to play one of the games programmed into it, and made it halfway through her meal before someone knocked. She closed her eyes, tempted to ignore it, to stay quiet and pretend she wasn’t in there. But she had walked past three people, and it was not as if there was a back door she might have escaped through.

  The knock came again, not hard and demanding but a soft rap, such as one might make with a couple of knuckles.

  Hoping it was just Mica—she did not want to talk to Alejandro—Alisa called, “It’s not locked.”

  She could not bring herself to offer more of an invitation. She did not want company. She knew she had done a dishonorable thing, and she did not need anyone pointing it out. If she had gotten her daughter’s location, or at least some concrete information on who had her, it might have been worth it. But she hadn’t.

  The hatch opened. She focused on her burger, taking another chomp. Battered morals or not, she hadn’t eaten much in the last twenty-four hours, and her stomach would not stand for being ignored. Even so, she almost lost her appetite when she saw who loomed in the hatchway. It wasn’t Mica.

  “Figured you’d be gone by now,” Alisa said, staring straight ahead at the table.

  Leonidas looked at her, then looked over his shoulder—Yumi’s and Beck’s voices floated in, along with the scent of a fresh round of charbroiled meat. Lamb, Alisa had decided as she had been eating, heavily spiced with orakesh. It was a favorite dish from the southern continent here, though Beck had added an interesting twist, a hint of orange and pepper.

  Leonidas stepped inside and closed the hatch.

  Alisa licked her lips for reasons that had nothing to do with the spices. She remembered Alejandro’s statement that she should be interrogated. He had suggested dragging her off to some imperial facility for it, but maybe he had decided to settle on having his local cyborg do it. The day before, Leonidas might have objected to the idea of assassinating her, but that had been before she had stolen the doctor’s orb.

  She kept her gaze forward, pretending indifference to this enforced privacy, but she watched him out of the corner of her eye. She picked up the burger for another bite, not wanting him to think she was worried.

  “Yumi gave us some interesting information after you went to your cabin,” he said. His voice was level, not threatening. He walked to the opposite side of the table and sat across from her. If he was still angry, he was hiding it.

  “Oh?”

  “She says she knows the location of one of the main Starseer temples.”

  Alisa froze, her burger held in the air before her, juices running down her wrists. Was it possible? That Yumi of all people might be a resource in this? “I wouldn’t have guessed that she knew the location of more than the closest colony of jashash growers.”

  It was a snide thing to say, and Alisa was glad the hatch was closed. Yumi had proven she had knowledge about more than her quirky hobbies.

  “I wouldn’t have guessed, either,” Leonidas said, “but she claims one of the largest temples is on Arkadius.”

  “On Arkadius? The Alliance seat of power and one of the oldest and most populated planets in the system? I think someone would have noticed during the Order Wars if there was a Starseer base there.”

  “The Starseers are good at not being found.”

  “Tell me about it.” Alisa set her burger down with more force than required, and crumbs tumbled off the plate and onto the table. She had not even started looking for her daughter yet, and she was already frustrated with the Starseers.

  “I’ve spoken to Alejandro, and he believes the Starseers may have the answers he seeks since the artifact is of Starseer origin. Getting those people to give him the answers without taking the orb from him will be a challenge, but he thinks it’s worth the risk. He could spend the next five years researching in libraries, assuming he can get close to any more libraries without being captured by soldiers, and not find what he’s
looking for.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” Alisa finally met his eyes, more than a little worried about the sharing of information that they had heretofore been secretive about. Maybe they had plans to kill her, after all, and figured it didn’t matter what she knew now.

  “It’s not obvious? We need a ride.”

  “A ride?” she mouthed. How could they possibly want to continue on with her now? Surely, there were other ships heading that way, and if not, it seemed that Alejandro had money enough to bribe someone to change course for him. “Alejandro wants to continue to be my passenger?”

  “No, but he’s realized, or he did after I pointed it out to him, that the reason we were likely allowed down to the planet in the first place was not because of some special stature he has among the remaining imperials. Someone knew he had the orb and wanted a chance to get it.”

  Someone. Senator Bondarenko?

  “I didn’t figure it was the doctor’s winning personality or ability to quote scripture that got him invited down,” she said. “But why fly with me? There are other ships.”

  “We’re here already. And Yumi’s here. She’s the one with the map to the temple in her head. Oddly, she wishes to stay aboard while she looks for employment.”

  Alisa snorted. “Did you try to bribe her to get her to leave with you?”

  “Alejandro may have.”

  She snorted again. Alisa could not imagine why Yumi cared one way or another who she rode with, other than that her chickens were settled in here, but she found herself smugly pleased that Yumi had turned down Alejandro’s bribe.

  “There’s also an implication that she can get us an invitation in to see the Starseers,” Leonidas said. “Since their usual modus operandi is to diddle with the minds of the people who try to find them, causing them to become lost, that could be useful.”

  “You believe she has this knowledge and these connections? When you don’t know anything about her?”

  “We have no reason not to trust her.” His tone chilled a few degrees. “It’s not as if she’s tried to steal from us.”

  “Not us, him,” Alisa growled. “I haven’t taken anything from you.”

  “I have nothing of value. Unless you count what’s under my skin, and those implants wouldn’t be worth much these days. Old tech, you understand.”

  “You act like I’d slice you open to make two tindarks.” For some reason, his disdain affected her more than it should have, and she found her throat tightening with emotion, a mix of frustration and something else she couldn’t identify. “Look, I’m not a thief. I’m just—”

  She swallowed and looked away, unable to get more words out. It would have been an excuse, anyway. Wasn’t she a thief now? It did not matter that she’d brought the orb back. She wouldn’t have if the original plan had worked out.

  “Never mind,” she said when she found her voice again. “Fine, whatever. You want a ride, it’s another two hundred tindarks each. I need to pay Beck and get supplies for the voyage.”

  “Don’t forget to save for a down payment on your combat armor.”

  She smiled bitterly, remembering how he had said that with her mouth, she would need a set. He probably believed that now more than ever. Tears threatened to form in her eyes, and she looked away, waving him toward the hatch, hoping he would accept that the conversation was over and leave. She let out a breath of relief when he stood and headed toward the mess room.

  Still looking toward the far wall, she lifted her hand and wiped her eyes. She didn’t want anyone to see her cry, not when she had no one to blame but herself for her current mess. If she hadn’t joined the Alliance four years ago—

  “You never mentioned you have a daughter,” Leonidas said quietly from the hatch.

  He hadn’t opened it yet.

  Alisa swallowed, lowering her hand, not wanting him to guess at her tears. “It’s nobody else’s business.”

  “How old is she?”

  She meant to harshly say, “Why do you care? Go away.” What came out was a sniffle and, “Eight.” She hated bothering other people with her problems, but a part of her wanted him to know so that he might understand, so he would not condemn her for the choice she had made. “It’s been a year and a half since I’ve seen her in person. I was a pilot and made the choice to help the Alliance when they sent out the recruiting papers. I left Jelena and my husband because I thought I was joining a worthy cause, doing something that would make her life better. And his too. He didn’t have the freedom to do the research he wanted, and I know it ate at him, frustrated him. But it was a hard choice—what kind of mother leaves her daughter for four years when she’s that young? At the time, I didn’t know it would be that long, but… I’ve regretted the choice many times since then.” She wiped her hand down her cheeks, smearing away the tears that had escaped, keeping her head turned away from him. She wagered that cyborgs never cried.

  “We all make choices we regret,” Leonidas said quietly.

  A part of her wanted to stay silent, in the hope that he would go away. A part of her was curious and didn’t want him to go away.

  “What do you regret, Leonidas?” she asked.

  He hesitated. Not sure he wanted to share with a thief? Her mouth twisted as she looked down at her plate—she was tired of looking at the wall.

  “Among other things,” he said, “I have no children.”

  “You still have time for that, if you don’t let Alejandro get you killed.”

  “Perhaps.” He said it the way someone says something to be agreeable, not because they really mean it.

  Odd. It wasn’t as if he was ugly. Alisa was sure there were plenty of women who would drool over his big muscles, and he had a handsome face when he wasn’t glowering.

  “She might like you,” Alisa said.

  “Who?”

  “My daughter. Her favorite cartoon character is Andromeda Android.” Realizing he might take offense to being compared to an android, Alisa hurried to add, “If you haven’t seen the show, Andromeda was created by the empire to do its bidding. She broke free from a mad scientist’s laboratory and now lives in the underworld on Perun, solving crimes and helping the downtrodden. She has a psychic cat named Boo. That’s possibly the reason Jelena liked the show so much, especially when she was four. Hm, you should probably get a cat, Leonidas.”

  She glanced at him to check his reaction. His brow was wrinkled as he gave her one of his I-find-your-humor-perplexing looks. Well, at least he did not appear offended.

  “Jelena and I used to watch the cartoon together when I was home from my delivery runs. In the middle of the day, while Jonah was at work. It was our time.”

  “I see.” He waited, perhaps to see if she would say more, and then tugged on the handle to open the hatch.

  “Leonidas?” she asked.

  He paused. “Yes?”

  “I’m sorry I called you a mech.”

  “You’re not the first.”

  “No, but…” Alisa groped for a way to say that she had come to think of him as a friend—whether that was wise of her or not, all things considered—but she found that hard to admit. Perhaps because she doubted he would admit it back, not now. Maybe not ever. “I always thought of myself as honorable. But I guess it’s easy to be honorable when your life is normal and your needs are met. It’s when you get desperate that your morality really gets tested, isn’t it?”

  “It is,” he agreed.

  “Do you have any family, Leonidas?” She wasn’t sure why she kept using his name when there was nobody else in the room. Maybe as an apology for calling him something else earlier, implying he was less than human.

  “My parents are gone. I have two younger brothers.”

  “I was an only child. I always wanted brothers or sisters. Someone to play with on the ship during the long voyages. I never knew my father, and when my mom didn’t make it back from her last freight run—well, that was hard. I was glad I had Jonah by then. It seems wrong that
now, years later, I have less than I had before. Aren’t you supposed to accumulate more things—more friends, more family—as life goes on?”

  “Not in my experience.” Was that a hint of regret in his voice? If he truly wanted children, why hadn’t he tried to find someone? Had he been too busy with his career as a military officer?

  “Are the brothers at least good company?” Alisa met his gaze, this time for more than a second. Her eyes had dried, and it seemed safe to do so.

  He scoffed.

  “Surely, they don’t pick on you.” She waved at his brawny arms.

  “Neither of them have any interest in talking to their half-machine brother.” He smiled, as if in indifferent dismissal, but it did not look that sincere. “One of them joined the Alliance.”

  “That is a crime.”

  He glowered at her, though it seemed more of a mock glower this time. It made her smile. She doubted he would forgive her for taking the orb, or trust her going forward, but at least he wasn’t threatening to pull her toenails off to make her talk.

  A knock came at the hatch. Leonidas opened it, and Mica poked her head in, eyeing them warily. She leaned back out again.

  “They both have their clothes on,” she announced.

  Alisa felt her eyebrows fly up. That was what people had been speculating about out there? Not that she was in here being tortured for information?

  “Really,” Leonidas said dryly and walked out.

  Mica came in and took his vacated spot. “I ordered supplies today while you were hiding—”

  “I was sleeping.”

  “Where no one could reach you. Our groceries and the parts that were available have been dropped off. I’ll have to make do with some things until we have time to wait for delivery of a special order. That’s all fine, but what I came to tell you is that we may have trouble.”

  “How extraordinarily novel for us.”

  “Yes.” Mica slid her netdisc onto the table and thumbed the holodisplay to life. “That’s the camera by the hatch.”