Each hunter wore an ornate suit of black armor with green or gold trim. Power cells glimmered along each limb and down the spine of the armor, connecting to energy weapons on the forearms as well as their skeletal armatures and layers of boost muscles. One of them held a two-meter-long staff. The end of the staff glowed white. He touched it to the door frame, making metal bubble on contact.
Yajain floated toward them until she reached the midpoint of the hallway. Three hunters turned toward her. The one with the staff remained intent on the door. She landed, then held up the pistol in one hand. Yajain tossed the weapon onto the floor between herself and the hunters.
“I of the blood of Clan DiAksa, request your protection.”
One hunter advanced to her side, eerily quiet. Yajain held her hands over her head, unable to keep them from shaking. She stared into the mask of the hunter but found its painted features impossible to read.
“Do not move,” said the hunter in a modulated voice of indistinguishable sex.
The hunter with the staff sliced one of the locks from the door so it banged to the floor.
“I am unarmed. This ship is part of a rescue fleet. Please. Listen to me.”
The hunter beside Yajain grabbed both of her wrists and forced them together with vice fingers. Yajain turned toward the hunter’s unfeeling mask.
“You don’t want to walk onto the bridge of this ship.”
“We’ll decide what we want, half breed scum.” The hunter’s modulated voice resounded in Yajain’s ears.
She winced.
“You can’t. The people there are unarmed.”
The hunter forced Yajain’s arms behind her back and then pushed her forward, enhanced muscles flexing. Yajain fought the hunter’s grip instinctively. The mask turned toward her. And the hunter’s grip tightened. Pain flared in her wrists. Yajain flinched in pain.
“Listen, you’re making a mistake.”
The hunter shoved her forward. Yajain sprawled to the floor. The palms of her gloves took most of the damage, but she hit the floor painfully on one shoulder about a meter from the beam pistol. Behind her, the hunter raised one arm, an arm with a glowing barrel slung under it.
A burst of coil fluid shrieked through the air. The hunter staggered to one side, shoulder and back steaming with superheated shot. The scent of burning flesh made Yajainw want to hold her breath, to avoid tasting the vile air. Down the corridor, two more Ditari standing before the door flickered and vanished into their camouflage sheaths. The third hunter still held the torch staff and swung it through the last lock on the door. The door crashed onto its base, buckling its frame.
Yajain scooped up her pistol and rolled to one side of the corridor. She sheltered her head with one arm. Hunter footsteps pounded on the floor. She aimed at the hunter with the torch and squeezed the trigger.
The beam of white light sliced through the air, cutting a scar along the hunter’s armored forearm. Smoke rose from the pinhole-sized cut that went all the way through to the flesh. Behind Yajain the cablers who had been following her from below kept shooting, peppering the Ditari both visible and invisible with coil fluid. The hunter near Yajain screamed and fell.
Banedd raced over to Yajain on foot, along with a nuinn cabler from Ruane’s Blade.
Behind them, a third cabler advanced more slowly carrying Banedd’s coil pistol. The hunters flickering shapes pocked with burns where the cabler’s shots had connected, drew long, curved swords that lit up along the edge with energy charge.
The hunters swept forward, blades swiping out in narrow arcs. Banedd’s coil rifle burst in half mid-shot, releasing its blast coils onto the floor by Yajain’s side.
She leapt up to avoid spreading heat fluid.
The hunter Yajain thought was down crawled across the floor. A hand snaked out and seized the pistol-armed cabler’s leg. He swung the weapon down to aim at the hunter’s head and shouted out loud.
“Don’t move. I’ll kill her!”
The other two hunters stopped with their blades readied. Banedd dropped his ruined rifle to the floor. Yajain looked between the hunters and the cablers, pistol dangling from her fingers.
“Listen to him! Nobody has to die here.”
The two hunters drew back and sheathed their swords. The one by the door raised his torch in one hand. He swung a fist to pound his chest.
“As one. Surrender your weapons. We will do the same.”
“No deal, you all still have that armor,” said the dark-eyed cabler with the pistol. “You listen to the doctor, first.”
“If you insist.” The hunter by the door lowered the torch. “Say your piece, DiAksa.”
Yajain nodded. She hated the name, but it belonged to her, regardless of what her father once decided.
“This ship and the two others closing on its position are part of a rescue fleet. We may be in the employ of Dilinia, but we will not attack you.”
“You say you serve Dilinia,” said the torch hunter. “But what proof do we have? Governor Sovilan said the same.
“He’s betrayed you,” Yajain said. “That’s clear to me. But his actions are not sanctioned, or known, in the center.”
“If that is true you are not our enemies.” The torch hunter turned to the cabler holding the grounded hunter hostage. “Release my ward and surrender. We will not harm anyone on this ship, or in your fleet. You have my word.”
“Thank you for listening to reason.” The man dropped his pistol to the deck and stepped forward. His dark eyes moved from the torch hunter to Yajain. Tension lingered under the sweat on his face. He looked young and tired.
The torch hunter bowed his head.
“Thank you. If this DiAksa speaks the truth you have kept us from committing a terrible crime.”
Yajain turned to the last armed cabler. He put down the rifle he’d taken from Ogidar.
“Let me speak to the captain beyond that door,” Yajain said. “She can give you our formal surrender.”
“We may not need it. Had you not stunk of Dilinia we would have thought you allies sooner.” The torch hunter walked down the hall toward his fallen ward, knelt, and helped up the wounded hunter. “Doctor,” he said. “I think you could tell me how a member of the DiAksa clan came to be where you are.”
“I’ll throw that in with a peace deal.” Yajain walked to the door to the bridge. She switched on her receiver. “Captain Narreb,” she said. “I have good news.”
“You killed the boarders?”
“Better. We got them on our side.”
“It’ll do. We need to move before the storm hits.”
Yajain connected to TO Sogun and the Solnakite.
“It’s Doctor Aksari,” she said. “How far out are you?”
“We’re within a hundred meters. Standby for our lines.”
The Ditari bannership hunt in the arc field near Castenlock, visible out the ready room’s large window. Captain Firio Gattri stood at the window when Yajain entered after the Tei Officers of Ebonwing, Solnakite, and from Ruane’s Blade, Jania Gattri. The fifty cycles old Ditari hunt leader who had held the torch, Kodun DiCalibri bowed his head as he entered alongside her.
“Captain Gattri,” he said. “I must beg your forgiveness for our attack on your people.”
Firio turned from the window.
“You took no one’s life this time, Kodun. For that, I’d rather thank you.”
This time. Yajain’s eyes moved to Kodun. The old Ditari looked smaller without his helmet though he still wore his hunter armor. The glowing, powered shell made his white hair look even lighter. Despite his age, he was intensely handsome, even by the foreign standard of the nuinn, with a strong jaw and fierce eyes. The longevity of appearance the Ditari were known for blessed him. He didn’t appear to notice Yajain looking at him, or perhaps he was used to people staring.
“It’s been a long time since I contended with a commander like you, Captain. And my title is Predator. Do
n’t forget why.”
Firio sighed.
“Enough of the past, Kodun. Inform us of the current situation, here in Shaull. Yajain, you may leave if you wish.”
Yajain nodded and turned to go.
Kodun smiled with sharp teeth.
“Thank you, Captain, but I would prefer the doctor to stay. This information has bearing on her mission after all.”
Firio sat down at the table. He waved his hand to the other seats around the hologram. The map showed storm clouds closing with Bahami Forest. The Tei Officers took their places.
Yajain sat between Cava Sogun and Kodun DiCalibri. Firio looked up from his reading pad.
“When the storm wind hits we will lose most maneuvers. The storm is powerful but luckily will not take long to pass. Predator Kodun, who is this governor your people are embattled against?”
“Tirel Sovilan, Dilinia’s administrator for this entire expanse. I met him once, in the service of the honorable Redoca Helle DiKandar. Sovilan seemed honest then, a decent man, for a Dilinum politician. But since then, he has lost his mind and declared himself independent even of your Empress.”
Firio gazed through the hologram at Kodun, eyes weary. His hands folded on the table. He frowned.
“If what you say is true he is a rebel against the throne.”
“I assure you, we would not be in a battle stance, were it not.”
“My ships are not armed for war. We were attacked by rebels in the corridor, prior to transit. We will not be of much help in battle. But we can communicate the situation to Habandra with our data links.”
Jania, Firio’s daughter and TO of Ruane’s Blade, drummed her fingers on the table.
“Captain Gattri, my ship detected some additional transits at the far end of the corridor just before we began our own. That could mean other rebels followed us here.”
Firio scowled.
“The storm will keep them off us for a few hours. But when it passes we’ll need somewhere to go for repairs and redress.”
Kodun grinned.
“I think I can assist you.”
The soft hum of the fast arc mover droned below Yajain’s feet as she rode with the others back to the ranger docks of Castenlock after the meeting. Kodun DiCalibri rode on one side of her, Tei Officer Cava Sogun on the other.
“How is your ward, Lord DiCalibri?” Yajain asked.
“She’ll live with the scars.” Kodun raised an eyebrow. “Thank you for your concern doctor, although it surprises me.”
Yajain shook her head.
“I wish it hadn’t come to that.”
“I believe you,” Kodun said. “But if not for you and that young man with the coil pistol there might have been death.”
She nodded.
“I don’t know who would have gotten off worse.”
The arc mover dropped a level, causing Yajain to grab its handrail in surprise. The mover slowed, then stopped by the entrance of Solnakite’s hangar. Yajain climbed off it, rattled.
Kodun smiled.
“It would have been you,” he said.
Storm winds raged and curtains of nearly horizontal rain swept across the dome of Castenlock’s shipboard bar.
Yajain sat with one hand on her mukta glass, looking up at the clouds. The potent mukta had already started dizzying her mind. A lightweight like Yajain shouldn’t drink more than one of the smooth-burning drinks a night, or more probably a week. Even a few sips in the effects were obvious.
She pushed the mug away. The heavy metal base cap of the cup clunked against the table and then magnetized. Yajain glared at the drink. Kodun shouldn’t have said those words. His confidence and ruthlessness hit her like a blow. Yajain sighed. That wasn’t it.
She shot him, after all. He had a beam burn on his forearm she’d put there. Though Yajain would have shot that sniper, Adya, back at Rakati Hub she was sure she lacked the anger within to not regret the violence. Lin would never regret shooting in self-defense.
Lightning flickered overhead, followed by thunder, all solna light completely eclipsed by clouds. Yajain put her elbows on the table, head in her hands.
“That plan was stupid,” she said under her breath. “Never mind that it worked. It shouldn’t have.”
A clink of ice and clack of a pay card on table reached out across the dull roar of the storm. Yajain blinked and sat back, brushing the hair from her eyes. Dara led Sonetta away from the bar, drawing appreciative looks from the male crew members across the room. Yajain raised her hand and waved to them, but it may have been unnecessary. Dara and Sonetta headed toward her table.
“Drinking alone?” Sonetta asked.
“Not anymore, I hope.” Yajain motioned to her mukta. “Finishing this one might kill me.”
“You think?” Sonetta grinned and sat. “You don’t just act tough, Yajain. I won’t touch mukta.”
Yajain shrugged and reached for her glass. The dark liquid inside it sloshed a little over the rim as she freed it from the magnetic lock.
Dara sat down on Yajain’s other side, across from Sonetta. That left them all with the view of the storm, and tables full of crew members. Dara smiled.
“Lucky us, we don’t do maintenance. The storm won’t be any fun for them.”
“That’s an observation I can toast.” Sonetta raised her glass.
“As you should,” Dara said.
They all clinked their drinks together over the center of the table. Yajain just sipped her mukta one more time. Fiery taste almost dropped her from her chair.
“Good toast,” she said.
Sonetta lowered her glass from her lips.
“You could have waited for us to get started, you know.”
“Or maybe you were waiting for someone else, hmmm?” Dara smiled. “That big cabler, Ogidar, certainly isn’t bad.”
“He’s almost as old as you are.” Yajain grimaced then broke into a smile.
Dara lowered her cup.
“You know, that’s a good point.”
“You know he’s full Ditari, right?” Sonetta asked. “No offense to Yajain, but most of them are pretty intense. Those hunters earlier…”
“They were doing their jobs,” Dara said. “A man with a bit of beast in him can be…interesting.”
Yajain raised her eyebrows.
“I thought I was the one drinking mukta,” she said.
“I’m trying to relax.” Dara shook out her hair. “And besides that, this mission might take longer than we expected.”
“How do you know?” Yajain asked.
“Agent Pansar seemed agitated earlier when I saw him going to meet the captain. I listened close. One of his flunkies told him that.”
“That’s mission information,” Sonetta said. “You shouldn’t be telling us.”
“Then I shouldn’t know it in the first place.” Dara sipped her drink. “They’ll announce soon. No harm done.”
“No harm if we don’t tell before that.” Sonetta smirked.
“I’m confident you won’t.” Dara turned to Yajain. “What pushed you to drinking mukta tonight?”
Yajain sat back in her chair and stared up at the dome where the storm still raged. The rain intensified, sounding like a furious drumbeat.
“The further out we go, the more messed up things look. War in Toraxas, War in Shaull.” And Mosam isn’t anywhere to be seen yet. She sighed.
“Regretting your decision?” Dara asked, face serious.
“What if I am?” Yajain brushed strands of hair from her face. “It’s not as if any of us can go back until the fleet turns around.”
“True,” Sonetta said. “No one said this would be easy.”
Yajain looked at Sonetta.
“No one said there would be so much fighting either.” She raised her mug to her lips and sipped it. “But we’ve got to keep going. I mean, I have to keep going.”
“Why?” Sonetta asked. “We all signed on for this.
”
“Because I’m not just here to help people.”
“Yeah, you also get off on acting mysterious,” Sonetta said.
Yajain set her cup on the table. She frowned at Sonetta. Dara took her own drink in her hands, silent. Sonetta met Yajain’s eyes.
“Don’t pretend you’re not,” she said. “If this whole mission is just a ferry for you, then you should trust us with your destination.”
Yajain’s eyebrows rose. She looked down into her drink.
“Maybe you’re right. I hope you’re not.”
“But I am.”
“But she is.”
“Even you, Dara?” Yajain asked.
Dara nodded.
“You can have secrets,” she said. “But not when they could get people killed.”
“Fine.” Yajain glared at Dara. “Go on, tell me why you think my secret is dangerous.”
“It could be anything.” Dara took a sip. “But I think it’s about Coe.”
“Coe?” Sonetta asked.
Yajain sighed, fingers wrapped around her cup. Her head dropped toward the table. The storm played percussion instruments in her ears.
“Mosam Coe.” She took a long breath. “He, he was my sister’s boyfriend ten years ago. But not really. Never really. I thought he liked me better.”
Sonetta took a drink. Then she leaned forward. “This guy, Mosam, who is he?”
“A terrorist. A criminal. A bastard.” Yajain sighed half the air from her lungs. “A Doctor of Harvest.”
“One of those things is different,” Dara said.
“He helped me,” Yajain said. “Helped me and Lin. You know, half-Ditari at the end of the war. We didn’t belong with the other kids at home.” The girl, Nira, raised the pipe over Yajain’s head in her memory. “At least, nobody thought we did. Except for him.”
That girl on Kaga pillar hovered in Yajain’s mind eye, pipe already bloody. But it never fell, never would.
Yajain swallowed another sip of mukta. A group of cablers passed, including Banedd and the dark-eyed young man from Ruane’s Blade. Yajain sighed and set down her glass.
“I’d better go.”
Storm Fleet Page 11