by RK Munin
She meets his eyes and finds he's regarding her with an expression containing both pride and worry. “You're a very brave female,” he tells her finally. “I'm honored to know you.”
Uncomfortable with both the discussion and his words she starts untangling herself from him. “Come on, big guy, we've got chores to do. I don't know how it works on Hissa ships, but around here we can't afford to lounge around all day.”
Halin tightens his arms around her to the point where she gives a little squeak, then to her relief he lets go and gets to his own feet then hauls her up. Then he starts pulling clothes from a pile he must have dropped by the hatch.
She looks down at her own ripped and ruined clothes and frowns, she's going to need to go back to her cabin for a change. She looks up just in time to catch the bundle Halin tosses to her.
“I noticed nothing we bought for you at Wint was missing from the cabin so I took the liberty of bringing you a change of clothes.”
She shakes out the garments and smiles. If it makes him so happy to have her wear the extravagant clothing, she'll do it. She shrugs into the scooped neck shirt. The shoulders and sleeves of the top are loose and flow around her. The shirt gathers just below her breast and remains fitted down to her hips. The pants are just the opposite. They are fitted high and then loosen to billow around her leg until they gather again just below her knees, leaving her calves bare. Both shirt and pants are a deep rich purple with rows of glittering beads sewn in around her waist.
The style isn't cumbersome so it doesn’t bother her, and she has to admit that the soft fabrics feel divine on her skin. She runs her hands down the front of the shirt and sighs.
“This isn't going to last long,” she mutters sadly.
“It doesn't matter,” Halin tells her, and she looks up to see deep satisfaction on his face. “The colors look beautiful on you, and it pleases me to see you wearing something I've provided. I could care less if you destroy an outfit a day. I’ll buy you more.”
She gives him a wry smile, “It’ll matter when the bills pile up.”
“You're very concerned about money,” Halin comments with a frown. “I have a feeling you operate on the edge of solvency.”
She shrugs. “The bounties are good, but the ammo and repairs are murder on the credits. I usually have a little left over after buying all the necessities, but not much. I'm happy though.”
“I can make you happier,” Halin points out and palms a breast through her shirt. She moans a little then pulls away. The man is insatiable!
“Work first, play later,” she declares and moves quickly to dodge his hands. “Or don't Hissa men know how to work?” she asks with a mock scowl. Halin laughs and crosses his hands over his chest, pointedly looking at her beaded nipples, easily seen through the soft fine fabric of the shirt.
“Depends on the work.”
With a groan she hurries out of the room to start working on guns.
CHAPTER 8
Halin's just finishing putting ammunition into an automatic loader when a klaxon sounds, echoing through the ship. Mian, who's standing just a few feet away, straightens up with a gasp. Before he can ask her anything, she’s sprinting to the cockpit. He follows, catching up with her easily and ducking through the cockpit hatch right behind her. Then he watches her hastily pulling on armor, a big grin on her face. Halin follows her lead and dons his own armor, glad to find his chest piece clean and fully charged.
“Distress call,” she declares cheerfully. “Someone close is under attack and needs help.”
Forced to curls his hands into fists to keep from reaching for her, he fights his instincts to demand they turn away from danger. He wants to snatch her up, lock her in her cabin, and steer Fortune far from any raiders or battle. He wants keep her safe. Wants to hide her away from anything that could possibly hurt her.
Take her away from the job she’s been doing for years.
He stands immobile for a moment, watching her drop into the pilot’s chair and start warm-up procedures for some of the bigger guns. She's a practiced and skilled warrior. He has no right to stop her from going into battle.
But she's mine, part of his brain screams out. She's mine and precious, and I must keep her safe and secure.
His mind divides into two, and those two parts war with each other.
Protect Mian from all things dangerous.
Follow Mian into battle.
Finally one thought flows through his mind, and he knows there is no choice but to let Mian go after the raiders. If he tries to stop her their relationship will be over.
She’ll take him to Bicoma, but that will be it. She’ll never trust him again, and she’ll certainly want him off her ship. He might protect her from danger this once, but she'll never let him do it again.
Letting them face a potentially deadly situation together sits far better with him than her ending their partnership and her going off to face untold dangers by herself.
Halin focuses on Mian as she runs her hands over the control console, checking data and gathering as much information as possible. He finishes securing his armor and moves to stand next to her, looking down at the display on the console in front of her.
“It looks like a small Fozin cargo hauler was captured by two raider ships working together. One of the ships has already disabled the hauler and pulled it into a hanger.”
“One of the raider ships is a Defense series,” he says grimly as he studies the two ships on the display. The much larger Defense ship is four times the size of Fortune and carries double the guns. It wouldn't be as fast or maneuverable as Fortune, but its guns are far more powerful.
Under normal circumstances he would never engage in a battle with such poor odds.
“I know, but look at the dead spots,” she brings up a magnetic mapping display and points out several large dark spots on the ship. “I doubt half those guns even work and Fortune has some great plating.”
He can see from the display one of the engines on the Defense ship isn't running and there are electrical dead spots all over the hull denoting a lack of power to those sections. He remembers how skillfully she handled the two raiders chasing him down and realizes she's already calculated the odds.
“Strategy?” Halin asks knowing she must have a battle plan.
“We hit the Defense first, until it's either destroyed, incapacitated, or runs. Then we board the smaller ship and hunt down the raiders. I can only hope the Fozin are all being kept in the same place.” Mian catches his scowling expression. “What?”
It takes effort, but he forces the scowl off his face. The first part is dangerous enough, but boarding the second craft will force them into close quarters combat. He and all other Hissa warriors train for such things, but everyone knows it's some of the most dangerous fighting to engage in. It’s clear that this isn’t the first time she’s utilized this strategy. If he refuses, she’ll just go alone.
How many times has she put herself in that kind of extreme situation?
“The captives are probably already dead,” he points out, and Mian turns to glare at him. “If they’re all dead you’ll be risking your life for no reason.”
“That's not true,” she argues. “They tend to keep prisoners alive for ransom or to use as slaves.” Mian pauses, then tilts her head consideringly. “If you're scared you don't need to board with me. You can stay on Fortune and monitor the situation.”
“Scared?” Halin roars out, insulted down to his bones. “I'm a Hissa warrior. I fear no battle!”
Instead of yelling back at him, her face breaks out into a happy smile. “Excellent. Having someone at my back for this kind of fight will be good. Last time I boarded a vessel they had a damn energy thrower stationed at the end of a corridor. I almost got turned into a crispy critter.” She reaches over and touches a panel on the wall. A chair slides out. “Take a seat. You can run the guns while I pilot.”
Trying his best to ignore the images of Mian facing down an energy thrower he d
rops down in the chair and looks over the section of the control panel in front of him. He remembers the battle Mian engaged in to save him. “You controlled weapons and piloted when you rescued me,” he murmurs thoughtfully, once again struck by her skill level. “That’s a lot to do for one person.”
“Eh,” she says with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I have some good programing on the auto-targeters and a few pre-programed flight maneuvers.” Her causal attitude belies the difficulty in what she’s accomplished. Auto-targeting is notoriously problematic, and using pre-programed flight maneuvers can be hazardous also. Much like a skilled musician, he can imagine her moving delicate hands between the two sets of controllers as she engages the enemy.
“This looks very standard,” he grunts as he brings up several displays showing gun locations, range, ammunition amounts, and heat cycles. He can be useful there. If there’s anything he knows, it’s weapons. Not only has he trained extensively with hand weapons, but he took tours on battleships and trained with all the different gunners on board. All the controls are familiar and well within his capabilities.
“Everything is pretty standard expect for two things,” she agrees and points to a panel off to his right. “That controls the large tail gun I added not too long ago. The thing heats up bad so don't set the cycle any faster than a round every ten seconds.”
He nods and makes a mental note. “And the second item?”
She points to another panel just over the tail gun display. “This might look like a gun control, but it actually controls the worm hatch.”
Halin vaguely remembers the tight tube he had to crawl through to get from the dying Hope onto Fortune. “Is this how we’ll board the raider ship?”
“If we want to have the advantage, then yes,” she answers with a smirk. “If we hook up to the regular docking hatch, they just blow us up. If we clear off a gun and leach ourselves onto another place, they'll have to hunt to find us.”
“Clever.”
“Necessary,” Mian counters gleefully. He's not sure anyone should be this cheerful on the cusp of battle. “Are you ready? I'm going to start a strafing run. Don't hit the smaller ship on this run, concentrate on the Defender. We might take a few hits, but Fortune is well built, and I'm good at dodging.”
Halin's eyes sweep the controls in front of him, verifying that all the guns are warm, loaded, and ready to fire. “Confirmed. Guns are ready to engage,” he announces, feeling the familiar cold calm of battle fill him.
Battle is no place for rage, hesitation, or doubt. If he lets those emotions in, he runs the risk of not only getting himself hurt or killed, but also Mian. He refuses to be the reason they aren't successful.
He almost smiles when another thought strikes him. This battle will be the perfect opportunity to prove to Mian that he's a capable warrior and a worthy male. Suddenly the idea of going into danger with Mian at his side doesn’t sound like such a bad idea.
“Starting strafing run. Use the medium size projectiles. They won't be affected by the short-range defense system,” she tells him.
“I know,” he mutters, and she gives a small laugh.
“Sorry,” she says, pulling her attention away from the ship’s controls just long enough to give him a big grin. “I should've guessed you'd be knowledgeable. At my signal have at them with whatever you want to fire.”
He feels the ship vibrate around him and the tug of artificial gravity, which fights against the ship’s engines. “We might lose gravity here and there,” she warns him. In response he belts himself in. Once secured, he places his hands back on the control console, poised and waiting. Mian’s capable hands glide over the maneuvering controls, her focus absolute.
“Fire at will,” Mian shouts out, and Halin starts pouring rounds into the Defense. Fortune bucks violently, and Mian curses as she hits buttons. “We're good. Hull integrity is holding,” she announces, but he doesn't spare her a glance, his concentration on his displays.
He sets the auto targeting on the largest active guns, then manually fires several of the other guns that require longer reload or cooling time. He finds his aim is as good or better than the auto targeting because he can see Mian manipulating the controls out of the corner of his eye and shifts his aim accordingly.
At first, she calls out where she's going but soon she doesn't bother. She's far too engrossed in maneuvering around the ships, trying to keep the Fortune undamaged and the Defense from accidentally firing on its own companion ship.
“These fuckers are too dumb to live,” she mutters as a stray round from the Defense hits the smaller raider ship near an engine. Halin doesn't answer her comment, just focuses on keeping the guns loading, firing, and reloading.
He notices she's taking longer to come around this time and rushes to punch in commands to the large tail cannon. His fingers move fast, and he just manages to get the order entered before Mian starts another turn. The tail cannon is so large it causes a gyroscopic effect and shifts the Fortune a little as it turns, which actually keeps it from being hit by a round from the Defense.
The round from the cannon hits and a massive control arm on the underside of the Defense disintegrates. Mian crows out a laugh and smacks his arm with her fist. “Nice shot!”
He acknowledges her with a grunt. Mian finishes the turn only to find the Defense has started its own laborious turn and is pushing the engines into a hard burn.
“They're running,” Halin announces unnecessarily. He stills his hands on the gun controls. No point in wasting rounds until Mian can get them close again.
“Forget 'em,” Mian orders and steers Fortune toward the smaller ship. “Be ready to deploy the worm hatch.”
Halin turns his attention to Mian's set of controls and watches as she pilots the craft next to a section of the raider’s hull. It's not the most skillful piloting he's ever seen, but her movements are efficient and effective and soon she smacks the side of Fortune against the other ship. He hears the shriek of metal as the Fortune sinks claws into the other ship’s hull.
“Deploy the worm hatch,” she commands, and Halin smacks down on the worm hatch launch control. He can hear more grinding and shrieking metal and can picture in his mind’s eye the end of the worm hatch cutting through the other ship.
Without another word he stands and looks around for weapons. Mian is on her feet right behind him and rushes to a cabinet. She looks over her shoulder and gives him a saucy grin as she pulls it open to reveal the contents.
Halin gapes at what he sees.
Inside hangs an assortment of weapons, including the two new plasma rifles he bought them. Eagerly he hurries over and reaches over her head to start pulling weapons out and storing them on various parts of his armor, along with spare energy cartridges, charges, and ammunition magazines. Finally, he pulls out one of the rifles and slings it across his back.
He steps back and looks over to see Mian similarly armed. “I feel heavy,” he complains with a mock frown.
Shooting him a puzzled look, Mian closes the cabinet and starts out the cockpit and down the hall to the room with the worm hatch. “Heavy?”
“I feel like I'm carrying far too many rounds. Do you think the raiders might be persuaded to carry a few of them for me?” he asks, following her down the corridor. She laughs at his morbid humor but doesn't stop moving until he puts a hand on her shoulder just as she's about to drop into the worm hatch.
“They might all be dead,” he feels obliged to point out. “The captives. They might all be dead already.”
“I know that,” she says, shrugging off his hand.
“I just don't want you to get your hopes up,” he explains quickly.
She shakes her head. “It's happened before,” she assures him, her face grim. “If they're dead, then all I can do is avenge them.”
Just like you're avenging your parents every time you take down a raider, he thinks.
“Let me go first,” he requests, and she's about to argue but he presses forward. �
��I'm sure you've always gone first,” he points out. “Let me give it a try.” Reluctantly she steps back, and he wiggles himself down the worm hatch. Landing in a crouch he sweeps the room as he moves sideways to make room for Mian to land next to him.
The worm tunnel drops them into an empty area. He’s not sure how she knew there wouldn’t be anyone there, but it’s obvious she knew exactly what she was doing. The attack and then the docking all happened so fast that Halin wonders how many small intricacies he missed. Later he’ll need to interview Mian to better understand, but for now he concentrates on his mission.
“Standard one by one,” she whispers and he nods, recognizing the basic maneuver she names. He stands at the door to the room they dropped into, weapon ready and senses attuned to the ship around them.
She moves forward until she finds a defensible spot, sweeping the corridor with her smaller hand weapon as she moves. The place is too tight to use the plasma rifles so he also keeps his slung across his back. Once she’s standing against the wall with a support beam offering a bit of cover, Halin moves. He doesn’t stop where she’s standing. Swiftly, he moves past her, finding a position similar to hers further down the corridor and braces against the wall ready to provide cover fire if necessary. Now it’s her turn to move past him, weapons still at the ready.
They don’t need to speak or even look at each other as they move. They work seamlessly as if they’ve been training together for years. Halin's only experienced this after rigorous training and drills with fellow warriors. This little human is proving to be one of the most competent soldiers he’s ever worked with.