The Galaxy Arms tower stood before them, a dark and foreboding monument.
*
Sneaker had been following Jesse and Kayla since his quick exodus from the ship. Keeping to the shadows, he followed until they entered the Helix. Finding it more difficult to sneak in through the brightly lit entryway to the gaming hall, he used the gangly bulk of a pair of Drassians to conceal his entrance by floating close behind. Once inside the main gaming hall, he shot towards the ceiling, out of view of the security cameras. Darting from chandelier to chandelier, he kept his photoreceptors on Jesse. Sneaker spied the guards moving his friends to the rear exit across the casino and raced to catch up, but the door to the maintenance corridors closed before he could make it through.
Racing back the way he had come, no longer bothering to conceal himself. Spying an overhead cooling vent, he cut through it with his mini-guns. The grate fell with a crash onto the game table below. Once inside the airshaft, Sneaker switched on his headlamps and directional router, making his way to the exhaust vent on the Helix’s rooftop. Peering over the edge of the building into the back alley, his photoreceptors trained on his companions as they were just coming out through the rear maintenance door. He watched as the casino men led them towards the abandoned tower of the Galaxy Arms Hotel.
Sending a microburst transmission back to Bokschh aboard the Starhawk, Sneaker began to follow.
Chapter Fifteen
Kahr walked into his brother’s quarters on board Malcontent to find Jesse Forster standing before him.
Cursing a Kleezha oath, his hand went for his sidearm and froze there as he realized that he was staring at a life size holo-image of his enemy. The image flickered for a moment, and Kahr found his brother seated in a chair opposite the door, hands clasped together, fingers steepled in front of his face in contemplation. The holo was the only light in the room, now that the doorway from the corridor beyond had closed.
“Brother, we have received word from Del Loora. Lotha has captured Forster and is holding him, pending our arrival. Do you wish to abort the jump to the Piraxis system so we can go and retrieve him?”
Rahk’s one good eye continued staring at the image, through the image, to a point somewhere in the future. “He made his first capture at the age of eighteen, you know,” he said, whether having not heard the question or choosing to ignore it. “His first assignment with the Hunters Guild. A Harkonian assassin named Guanos Fest.”
“I know the name,” Kahr said. “Ghorman considered hiring him once.”
“Fest was an artist with weapons,” Rahk continued. “He could pick the sand lice off of a gravar’s back at one hundred meters with a rocket dart. Yet he met his fate at the hands of an eighteen-year-old boy.”
Kahr snorted, leaning against the wall, arms across his chest. “Of course Fest went down. Forster had his whole team behind him to back him up.”
“No, Brother, that’s where you are wrong. Forster challenged him to a duel, in the middle of the marketplace on Wayfarer Station. He had ordered his crew to stay in the docking bay with their ship.” Rahk paused, as though he were viewing the events in his mind’s eye. “Witnesses say Forster drew his weapons, fired, and holstered before Fest even got his weapon clear.”
“And Fest was denied the death he deserved. Forster stunned him.” The contempt in Kahr’s voice was obvious. “He now lies in a hospital ward on Stenax, dying of Kethlax’s disease.”
“The point I am trying to make, my brother,” Rahk said, “is that Forster could have killed Fest as easily as he captured him. And he was as yet, an untrained boy.”
“What are you saying?” Kahr asked. He did not like the path this conversation was taking.
“We proceed to Piraxis. Lotha will not hold on to Forster long.” Rahk replied. “He will catch up to us soon enough.”
Kahr breathed an annoyed gasp. “You give Forster too much credit,” he said. This time, he did pull his sidearm free, snapping off a single shot that burned right between the eyes of Forster’s holographic image. The beam stopped at the far wall, leaving a black scorch and the smell of sizzling insulation. Kahr turned from his brother and left the room.
Sighing, Rahk let him go without argument. You think too highly of yourself, Brother. I fear that you will meet the same fate as our dear, departed father for such overconfidence.
Rahk sat alone in the dark, continuing to scrutinize Forster’s image.
*
“You know,” Jesse said over his shoulder to Kayla. “I had a feeling this experience would bring us closer. I just never thought it would bring us this close.”
Bound back to back, they hung by the wrists above the darkened dance floor of the formerly glorious ballroom atop the Galaxy Arms. The only light in the room filtered through the huge windows from the streetlights, marquees, and billboards far below the tower. The air was thick with the musty smell of disuse, even though there was a cool breeze blowing into the room through broken windowpanes and the ornate stained-glass skylight overhead. Despite the gravity of their situation, Kayla chuckled at the joke. “My hands are starting to go numb,” she said, more an observance than a complaint.
“Try to move your fingers. Keep your circulation going,” Jesse advised.
“Don’t you think I’ve been doing that? Not helping much,” she answered. “How long do you think until our host shows?”
“Not long. Lotha’s not one to keep people waiting, even prisoners. He’d consider it rude.”
“Oh, sure!” Kayla snorted. “But snatching us out of the casino like that, that’s not rude! Hanging us here like slabs of meat, that’s not rude!”
Jesse shook his head, more to ease the ache in his neck than anything else. “Calm down. Everything’s under control.” Kayla snorted again, but said nothing.
The door leading from the kitchen area swung open and Lotha and several others entered into the room. Two of the cronies carried a portable vid-unit and a viewing screen that they set up a few feet away from the captives. Lotha stepped up to Jesse, his wide, lipless mouth parting in a hideous grin. “Hello Forster. It’s been a long time.”
“Not long enough, you fat slug,” Jesse replied coolly, trying to return the appraising gaze the Kammaran was giving him—a feat made difficult because of the wide spacing of Lotha’s eyes.
Lotha rumbled, the Kammaran equivalent of a chuckle. “Always the fighter, eh Forster? Here you are, helpless, at my mercy, and yet you still insult me. I always admired that quality in you.”
He walked around to regard Karson, getting as close as he possibly could. “And you, my pretty young thing, are you as spirited as your friend?”
Kayla smiled at her bestial captor, leaning as close as her ropes would allow. Her voice was a seductive purr as she replied, “Want to find out?”
Bringing her legs up, she caught Lotha in his chin with both knees. As his head snapped backwards, she kicked with both feet hard into his chest. Lotha wailed as he was thrown backwards, toppling over a nearby table with a crash. Lotha’s guards were around them instantly, weapon muzzles pressed up against them.
Jesse sighed, shaking his head, despite the rifle only inches from his face. “That was good,” he admonished. “Very subtle.”
She whipped her head around as much as possible to give him a sidelong glare. “I thought I’d get my point across.”
The two guards who had set up the vid-unit now were scrambling to help their employer to his feet. Lotha shoved them away, moving back in front of Kayla and, surprisingly, smiled again. “You have fire in you. I like that,” he hissed, still not having regained his breath. His barb-covered tongue slithered out to caress her cheek. “It sizzles so nicely when squelched.”
Lotha walked back to Jesse. “You and that little supernova are going to make a fine present for my good friend, Rahk Garrakis.”
Jesse snickered. “Just the two of us? I’d have thought you were going to present my whole team to your boyfriend.”
Lotha ignored the
jibe. “Rahk only wants you, Forster. I’m throwing the girl in as a bonus. He’s letting me have the rest of your crew just for fun.” He turned and nodded to the henchman nearest the vid projector, who switched the unit on. The image that appeared was from one of the security cameras outside the docking bay where the Starhawk was berthed. There were a half-dozen beings gathered about, all wearing the uniforms of the Helix’s security personnel. One of them was clearly working at the lock pad. All carried heavy weapons.
“You see, that particular docking bay happens to be owned by . . . well, by me!” Lotha said with another Kammaran chuckle. “My men will go in and destroy that flying scrapheap of yours. After that, it will be a small matter for my men to spread out through the city and hunt down the rest of your crew. Your people are good, but mine have the advantage of numbers.”
Jesse’s sudden laughter was not the response that Lotha had expected. The Kammaran frowned, glaring at him. “You find this funny?”
Jesse stopped laughing looking Lotha straight in the eye, all seriousness now. “Go ahead. Give your men the order to move in. Taking the ‘hawk won’t be as easy as you think.”
On the screen, the guard working on the lock finished and turned to the camera to with a thumbs-up. Lotha nodded to one of his men and the go-ahead was relayed. The lead guard acknowledged and punched the door controls. The docking bay hatch slid open. . .
Revealing an empty hangar beyond.
The look on Lotha’s face was priceless, and Jesse had to fight to restrain laughter. “Can’t take my ship if she isn’t there.”
Lotha’s expression changed from surprise to dismay. He whirled, looking through the broken windows of the ballroom in the direction of the Starhawk’s docking bay. Starship running lights were rising from between buildings, growing larger as they approached. Lotha turned, rushing for the stairwell.
“Rahk and Kahr be damned!” he cursed. He stopped before several of his guards. “Finish them! Then do what you can to hold that ship off!” He was through the door, his heavy footsteps pounding on the stairs.
The guard closest to Jesse raised his weapon. “No offense. Just business.”
Before he could pull the trigger, the ornate stained-glass skylight overhead shattered and two shapes dropped through the gap. Sneaker downed Jesse’s would-be assassin with several stun bolts. Podo was following close behind, strapped into the combat jetpack. The jetpack’s heavy laser cannons raked the ballroom, taking down the remaining guards. One guard leapt out the window, rather than allow himself to be blasted.
“You missed Lotha!” Jesse shouted, as Sneaker hovered over, extending multiple appendages to work on the ropes binding him. “He’s headed for ground level!”
Podo nodded. “He won’t get far.” With a burst of thrusters, he rocketed back out the way he had entered.
Sneaker freed Jesse, who hit the ground running, then turned to work on Kayla. Jesse jogged to where Lotha’s men had left his weapons.
“Get free, then meet us downstairs!” he called to Kayla. “Sneaker, stay with her!” he shouted, then he was racing down the stairs.
Kayla got loose, dropping cat-like, to the ground. Rubbing her wrists to get the circulation back to her numb fingers, she looked at Sneaker, nodding in the direction Jesse had left. “Some gentleman,” she said.
Sneaker replied with an electronic chortle, followed by an alarmed trill. Kayla whirled to see what had startled him. The guard that Sneaker had shot upon his arrival was rushing at Kayla, heaving a broken chair at her. She dodged, but the projectile caught Sneaker head on and sent him tumbling.
Turning on the guard, Kayla let out a feral shriek, flinging herself at her assailant. They went down in a tangle of arms and legs, ending with the guard on top. He landed a vicious blow across a chin and for a second, she almost blacked out. Recovering before he could strike again, she grabbed him by his jacket front and used her knees to fling him off her.
Kayla struggled to her feet, shaky from the blow. The guard kicked her across the ribs as she rose. The breath exploded from her lungs and she doubled over. Coming up behind her, the guard grabbed her by the back of her jumpsuit, shoving her toward the open window. She stumbled, catching her footing just before falling through and turned, teetering on the edge.
Still trying to catch her breath, she regarded her adversary, who pulled a dagger from his boot and began stalking toward her. “You’re out of places to run.”
As he took another step toward her, she caught a flash of movement behind him. Taking a step back, she dropped through the window, catching hold of the window ledge. Shards of glass still embedded in the windowsill slashed through her palms and fingers but she held on.
The guard appeared at the rim, looking down at her. “Now whatever possessed you to do something as stupid as that?”
A shrill, electronic wolf-whistle caused him to turn. He was struck in the chest by the same chair he had thrown earlier, brandished in Sneaker’s pincer arms. The blow knocked him backward and he stopped, tottering on the window ledge. Sneaker charged again, before he could recover. The guard’s scream lasted the entire length of his fall. Sneaker dropped the chair after him, imitating the whistling sound of a bomb dropping. “Good trick,” Kayla called to him. “Now how about giving me a hand?”
The drone’s response was an audio playback of an audience applauding. Kayla shot him a look of disgust. “I see you’ve got your captain’s sense of humor. Can we get serious now, please?”
Sneaker floated out the window, his pincer arms taking hold of her belt, trying to help lift her. With nowhere for her feet to find purchase, Kayla had to rely entirely on the strength in her arms and lacerated hands to pull herself up. She had just lifted herself up enough so she could see back into the darkened ballroom when, with a shriek of tearing metal, the window frame tore loose from its foundation on one end, swinging her out and away from the building. Under her weight, the framework bent and her blood-slick palms began sliding towards the edge, and the drop below.
“If you have any ideas, now would be the time to act on them,” she shouted to the drone
Sneaker let go of her belt, and she slid another few centimeters toward the drop. Pivoting, the drone turned to scan the streets below. With a trill of excitement, it extended its laser arms, firing two quick rounds.
Kayla was hanging by one hand now, with only seconds of strength remaining.
K’Tran met Jesse at the entrance to the Galaxy Arms as his young companion burst through the doorway. “Podo spotted Lotha heading for hangar bay twelve. Kym and Morogo are moving to try and cut him off, but that’s a high security hangar and if he gets inside . . .”
Jesse replied, never slowing his stride. “I know. We’ll have to blast our way in, probably with the ‘hawk’s weapons, and that won’t make the local authorities too happy with us.”
He halted at a four-way junction in the street “Which way?”
K’Tran surveyed the scene, finally gesturing off to his right. “I think the quickest way is . . .” Two laser rounds cut him off as they struck the ground centimeters from his feet. Both men drew their weapons, searching the dim streets for the source of the attack. A second set of blasts struck not far from the first, and they realized that they had come from somewhere above. Their eyes turned toward the ballroom of the Galaxy Arms.
Though the tower was not much more than a dark silhouette against the night sky, they could still see the figure dangling from the ledge. Two more rounds came firing down at them, once more striking at their feet, followed by a pair of lights blinking on and off in rapid succession. Drone photoreceptors flashing old Morse code. S.O.S.
K’Tran’s jaw gaped. “That looks like . . .”
“Karson,” Jessed finished for him.
“We’ll never get to her in time.”
Jesse tabbed his communicator. “Podo!”
Kayla struggled to get her other torn hand around the window frame. She was grasping the very edge of the framework. The ne
xt slip would cause her plunge.
Sneaker had returned to dutifully holding onto her belt, vainly hoping that its small repulsor engines could hold her aloft. She appreciated the valiant, though futile effort.
The window frame squealed and tore away from the building, giving out under her weight. Kayla fell in silence.
Her fall ended as abruptly as it began. The triumphant cry of “Gotcha!” was all but drowned out by the roar of rocket engines, as she was grabbed around the waist. Opening her eyes, Kayla stared into Podo’s smiling face. Holding onto her with one arm around her, he used his free hand to guide his rocket pack gently to the ground with short bursts from its engines.
Kayla let out the breath she had been holding, still stunned by the knowledge that she was not going to die. Unable to speak, she wrapped her arms around Podo’s neck and hugged him tightly until they were both safe on the ground.
*
Lotha was almost out of breath. He was not used to exerting himself in such a manner, and it showed. Years of prison and his rather soft lifestyle both before and since had conditioned his race’s usual sturdiness out of him.
Pausing at an intersection, He looked around to get his bearings. He knew the area. A few more turns and he would be safe inside his private hangar. Forster and his people would not have an easy time getting in after him and from there he could call in backup.
Lotha inhaled sharply, the night air flooding his lungs and giving him an extra surge of energy. He dashed down the street to his right, rounded a corner, and turned another. The hangar was in sight. His yacht lay beyond, its gangplank extended and inviting.
Lotha cleared the hangar doors, slapping a hand across the controls. He had the satisfaction of seeing Forster and a companion turn the corner just before the doors slid tightly shut.
Taking another deep breath, Lotha looked skyward, but all he saw was the protective clamshell dome that covered the hangar. He allowed himself a laugh. Forster would indeed have a hard time getting in here.
The Starhawk Chronicles Page 14