by Eve Langlais
First, she had to do something. She shoved at Kobrah, who stood in her way. The fool man stared at her. “Move.”
“You killed them.”
“Very observant of you,” was her sarcastic retort.
“Without my help.”
“Yeah, you were useless. But pretty.” She couldn’t resist patting his cheek.
He gritted his teeth. “Why are there Rhomanii drones after you?”
“None of your business anymore.”
“I’m making it my business.”
“I don’t have time for this. Out of my way.” She shoved at him, and this time he moved to the side, letting her drop to her knees in the metallic sludge pooling under the severed tentacles of the drone.
“What are you doing?”
“Salvaging. What’s it look like I’m doing?” she grumbled.
“You know dead drones can’t be salvaged.”
The carcasses never lasted long once the energy animating them shut down. No one could rightly tell if the drones were metal or something biological. Whatever they were comprised of didn’t have a name, not an official one at any rate, given no one could collect live samples. All they did know was the metal didn’t survive for long once you severed the main aorta feeding energy to the limbs—a trick her teacher had taught her.
As she dropped to her knees, she stabbed her knife into the body. It slid easily through the carcass.
“How fucking sharp is that knife?” Kobrah asked. “Mine didn’t even scratch it.”
“Sharp,” she muttered rather than explain it was a gift from her teacher meant to help her stay alive. Best present ever. It actually allowed her to fight—and retrieve rare things before they got melted inside drone goo, like the hunter’s power source, a ragged chunk of rock from sources unknown, a valuable thing on the Obsidian Market.
And my ticket out of here.
She reached into the body, and her fingers closed around the pulsing stone. Pulling it out she noticed how the pearly-sheened object pulsed with light in her hand. It didn’t react to everyone like this.
She gestured to Karo, who’d arrived, hands outstretched. Dara plopped it into her daughter’s palms. If they got separated, Karo could use it to bribe for help.
Dara went after the second body’s rock as Kobrah exclaimed, “Exactly who the fuck are you? Is your real name even Dara?”
“Mostly. It’s short for something.” She didn’t expand as she dug around for the next power stone and only stood when she clenched it in her fist.
“Why are there drones after you? What did you do to the Rhomanii?”
“What makes you think I did anything?” She wiped her hands on her tattered cloak.
“Those gypsies never get involved in anything unless there’s a profit or revenge involved.”
No point in lying. “I have something of theirs.”
“Pretty big something.”
“It was from someone important.”
“Did you kidnap a Rhomanii clan heiress from her real daddy?” He jabbed a finger at Karo.
Her lips twitched. “She’s my daughter. And yours.” The last spoken softly, yet he still heard.
“A genetic test will determine that. Let’s go.” He pointed in the opposite direction she’d been fleeing.
“Where?”
“My ship of course. It is what you wanted.”
That was before he’d closed himself off from her and made it clear how much he hated her.
It hurt. Hurt more than it should have. Yet, she understood his anger, especially since she deserved it.
“I don’t need your help now that we have the stones.”
“One of those should suffice for passage.”
It took her a second before she blinked and replied, “You’re charging us?”
“Seems only right given you need to engage my services. I don’t see why you’re shocked. You were planning to pay someone else.”
“They’re not married to me.”
“Thank you for the reminder. The stone won’t be the only thing you give in payment. I want the divorce, too.”
“And in return, what do I get?” She walked as she asked, Karo’s hand firmly tucked in hers, both the drone power rocks tucked out of sight.
“I’ll get you and the child out of here to a port of your choice.”
“Not enough. Swear you’ll protect Karolyne no matter what.”
“Isn’t that your job?”
She didn’t reply. Didn’t want Karo to hear the fear in her voice. The fear that one day she might not be around to protect her daughter. “I’ll give you the divorce if you help us.”
If Kobrah promised his aid, then no matter his feelings for her, he would follow through. The man’s honor ran deep. It was one of the reasons she fell for him.
“Hey, little sprout. Your legs must be tired. Why don’t you ride for a bit?” He swept Karo up, his big arms tucked around her body. He didn’t say anything else; he didn’t have to. She’d also noticed the quiet street.
It shouldn’t be this quiet at night.
She thanked the netting strung between buildings twinkling with small lights from the jiggo bugs that perched at night and glowed as a mating call.
The arriving drones tangled in the lit wires, snapping the filaments, but at the same time announcing their presence.
More than two this time. A citadel—the Rhomanii’s city-sized space ships—must lurk nearby.
“Run.” There would be no standing and fighting this time. Kobrah tucked Karo close, and Dara knew he wouldn’t let go. He’d protect her with his life, which meant, for once, Dara’s hands clutched knives rather than her daughter, and she could fight.
“You want me, come and get me, you bastards.” She pivoted and yelled at the sky. But the drones ignored her as the amulet, heating at her chest, rendered her invisible to their sight. But Karo didn’t have that same protection.
“Ghendo-humping whores,” Dara cursed as she sprinted after Kobrah. She covered their flight, leaping and slashing, taking out arms that reached. No way would she let them get their metallic appendages on her daughter.
“Next street over,” he yelled over his shoulder, sprinting toward the end of the street. She could see Karo’s eyes peeking over his shoulder where he’d tucked her. The child didn’t even have the common sense to look frightened. She had her arms wrapped around his neck, and Dara wagered she smiled. There would be no smiling for Dara, though, until they escaped.
The good news? Safety was within reach.
Dara slashed and hacked at more dipping drones. They paid her no attention, their focus single-minded. It made the job of attacking that much easier. Now if only they’d stay still, but they kept moving.
As they emerged from the end of the street, a guardhouse blocked their route. A flimsy layer of security before the spaceport. The guards emerged, their bright blue carapaces their uniform, their multi-faceted eyes reflecting her and Kobrah a thousand times over. One of the guards held up a holographic tablet projecting a symbol for stop.
They couldn’t slow now. Kobrah barreled through. The guards began to protest. Not for long. They said not a word as Dara bolted past them, their many eyes on their chins riveted to the approaching cloud of drones. With so many gathered they created an angry buzz.
Emerging onto the massive airfield, she spared only the barest glances at the ships currently in port. The only one she had interest in was docked nearby, and yet too far.
Their feet pounded on the tarmac, dodging crates and coiled conduits. A veritable minefield waiting to trip them. The drones, floating overhead, didn’t find themselves impeded at all and gained on them.
The Gypsy Moth grew in size as they neared, its presence distinctive, and not just because of the name painted boldly in old English on its side. The entire ship bore a unique design, like a giant wedge of cake if observed from the side, yet from above it appeared like a fat letter V. The wedged nose bore a black spot, almost like an eye, much like th
e insect that Kobrah had named the ship for.
The ramp for the ship projected from the side of the craft. Upon it stood a few personnel in dark uniforms. Only briefly did she wonder if she knew them. If they might shoot upon seeing her.
She had no choice but to go forward. The Moth provided her only hope of escape.
Within earshot, Kobrah began barking orders to his crew. “Batten down the fucking hatches. We are going to be leaving hot.” Kobrah might at times be rigid, but when adrenaline coursed, his upbringing emerged with his words. She preferred this more natural side to the unforgiving one.
“Who’s attacking, sir?” yelled one of his officers.
“Drones. Which means there’s a citadel nearby,” Kobrah mused aloud.
“The Moth is quick enough to evade the citadel,” Dara said.
“Don’t tell me how to fly my ship, Dare.” His nickname for her. Not so much because of her name but attitude. If she didn’t want to do something, all he had to do was say, “I dare you.” She couldn’t resist. It was how he’d conned her into giving him the first kiss.
Only as they got near did she recognize the people at the bottom of the ship. Damon and Abrams. The former gave her a hard glare; the latter pulled his weapon and aimed it.
She pretended to not realize he pointed it at her. “You can’t shoot them.” It would only draw unwanted attention from the drones. The drones wouldn’t attack anyone else unless provoked.
“No shooting!” Kobrah barked. “Put it away, Craig.”
“She’s trouble,” Abrams growled. The anger from the chief engineer pulsed, and yet she couldn’t fault him for it. She was the reason why his wife died. There was no forgiveness for that.
“Arm the pulse,” Kobrah shouted.
The what? Dara frowned but had no time to ask. The drones recognized their window was closing. They darted in, a mess of tentacles. Her only saving grace was they didn’t want to kill. It meant she could do a lot more without worry about herself or Karo.
But while they wouldn’t harm on purpose, she didn’t have the same restriction. She killed every single drone she could reach. Lamented the fact she could not stick around and harvest the bodies. But the Gypsy Moth, that big, beautiful beast of a ship loomed. The size of a small town, a refuge, and a prison because, once on board, there would be no escaping Kobrah—or her past.
Hitting the ramp, Kobrah slowed. He handed off Karo to Abrams. “Get her secured and then make sure we’re ready to depart.” When Dara would have followed, he said, “Don’t you dare go anywhere. I’m not done with you.”
While she wanted to stick close to Karo, she knew she couldn’t refuse.
Standing by the open hatch, Kobrah looked at the writhing storm of drones. “Fire.”
“Aye, Captain. Fire the pulse.” Damon spoke into the communicator at his wrist.
A single pulse emerged from the ship. It roved outwards in an almost visible light wave and hit the converging drones.
She didn’t expect anything to happen. She’d dealt with enough drones to understand they didn’t react as expected.
Apparently, she didn’t know anything.
The drones hit the ground with a thud hard enough she surely felt it rumble through her shoes. Once on the ground, they didn’t get up.
“What did you do?” she gasped in surprise. Did he have a way to kill them en masse?
“Plasma magnetic pulse. Temporarily knocks them out.”
“They’re not dead?” Pity.
“Nope, but I’ve bought us some time.”
“Time to get rid of them.” Every drone she killed was one less left to chase them. She headed back to the tarmac, only to have Kobrah grab her by the arm.
“What the fuck are you doing? Get your ass on that ship. We’re getting out of here before more arrive.”
“Can’t you just pulse them again?”
“Not for a day at least. The cannon is kind of a one-shot deal.”
“That sucks.” She chewed her lower lip in annoyance as she stared at the sea of bodies. A few already twitched.
“We’re wasting time. We need to go. Damon, get the ship ready for departure.”
“Heading to the bridge, sir.” The dutiful first mate jogged off to do his thing, leaving her with Jameson. She followed him into the ship and stuck around to watch as the ramp sealed shut.
Safe. The relief eased the tension in her shoulders. “Thank the gods we escaped.”
“I didn’t know you were a believer in deities.”
“Turned out I was talking to the wrong gods.”
A gentle rumble of machinery followed her from the docking chamber onto the ship proper.
“Have we got confirmation on the citadel’s location yet?” Kobrah asked aloud knowing he’d be listened to as captain of the vessel.
A dulcet female voice replied, “My sensors are still scanning.”
“Keep me informed.”
“Yes, sir.”
Dara kept pace with him as they crossed the massive storage bay where people milled around, strapping down cargo, casting them curious glances. How many wanted to kill her for what she’d done?
She kept her head ducked lest she meet any accusing stares. “The citadel won’t be far. The swarm arrived too quick after we killed the drones.”
“We? I merely provided distraction. You did all the killing. Seems you’re good at that.”
No denying the barb aimed at her.
“Everything I’ve done was for a reason.”
“I’m sure you had a good one. How much did they pay you?” His eyes flashed at her, the rebuke and hatred in them hot. “How much to betray everyone who trusted you?”
Her lips pressed into a line. “I had no choice.”
“There’s always a choice.”
Not always.
The ship interrupted them. “Captain. A Rhomanii citadel has been spotted hiding behind the Loppi mountain range. The current trajectory has it intercepting us within fifteen minutes.”
“Continue preparations for takeoff,” Kobrah ordered. “I’ll be on the bridge in a few minutes.”
“I’ll come with you.” Not that she could do much, but she wanted to be present, see what happened. Karo’s safety relied on them getting away.
“Actually, you’ll be going somewhere else.”
She initially assumed he’d be sending her to be with Karo.
The pressurized hiss from behind widened her eyes. She’d kept her eyes on Kobrah. Meanwhile behind her, Doctor Karson stepped back, the tranquilizing syringe still in hand.
“You bastard,” she slurred as she slumped.
When next she awoke, she was a guest in the Gypsy Moth brig.
And Karo wasn’t with her.
Chapter 3
Kobrah stalked to the bridge in a foul mood. So utterly foul.
Not even an hour in her presence and already embroiled in her shit.
In his defense, he’d been prepared to let her walk away. Her and that kid—not mine. She can’t be mine.
But he’d not turned away fast enough. The lens implant in his left eye saw past the shadows to the lurking menace. Dara didn’t know she walked right into an enemy. Raised a gentleman, he couldn’t stand by and do nothing.
He provided light to Dara and Karolyne, despite it putting his own lens at a disadvantage. Then dangled himself as a tempting target for them to get away.
Except…Dara didn’t escape. Didn’t have to because she bloody well knew how to fight. With knives and using her body in ways he would have sworn she didn’t know.
Remember that time in the training deck. He’d brought her there after he’d asked her if she knew how to fight. She’d giggled and said a little. He’d shown her some basic moves that day. Simple blocks and jabs. She’d followed his instruction, smiling. At the time, he’d thought her happy to spend time with him. He sure as hell felt like smiling around her. But all the time she’d played him for a fool. And when she’d supposedly accidentally performed a flip
on him, landing on top, laughing, lips so close, he’d kissed her.
I kissed a lie.
No more. He’d put her where she belonged.
Dr. Karson kept pace with him as he made his way to the bridge. “How long you going to keep her locked up?” he asked.
“Long as it takes.” Long enough that maybe when he closed his eyes he wouldn’t see her body undulating under his.
Maybe get rid of his horrible impotence when it came to other women.
“What of the child?”
“What of her? I’m sure Craig stashed her somewhere safe.”
“You sent her off with Crank?” Karson exclaimed.
“He was available at the time.” Possibly not the best choice given Craig’s grumpy attitude.
“You gave a cyborg with murderous tendencies the child of the woman who killed his wife.”
“Erm. I’m sure he won’t harm the child.” Would he? Craig didn’t seem as ornery since he’d married the stowaway.
“I’ll go make sure the girl is all right.” Karson headed off into the bowels of the ship, whereas Kobrah jumped into the nearest transport tube. The fast-moving units dotted the ship and made travel on the massive vessel quicker. It deposited Kobrah on the bridge. His crew knew better than to halt their jobs and salute. Only the rigid military did stupid things like that. Explained why they had a higher ratio of lost ships than the private sector.
As soon as his ass hit his chair, he barked questions. “Are all the crew aboard?” Jameson’s current mission was simply a refuel and cargo pickup.
“Yes, sir. We’re lucky they’d already turned in. The early departure time and the city’s curfew helped.”
“Tell me we’ve got permission to depart so we don’t have to piss off the port leaving hot.” He didn’t need to add to his already tarnished reputation.
How Jameson managed to clear his name after Dara’s perfidy remained a mystery. When word had emerged that his wife was the one to divulge the coordinates to peace talks that ended in an ambush and many dead, he’d thought he’d end up skewered by an assassin.
However, instead, he got credit for keeping his client alive, at the cost of some of his crew. And later on, brokering those peace talks—at gunpoint on the Gypsy Moth—while threatening to space both parties if they didn’t cooperate.