by Reagan Woods
Lyon smiled. “We’re running from a CORANOS assassin,” he corrected. “The priests could also be problematic, but they are easily thwarted with a few countermeasures.”
Nora’s stomach dropped to her toes. “Mierda. You’ve got to be shitting me.” The CGA could be the death of her even out here on the other side of the universe.
“We do not shit you,” Zocan replied stonily, turning to pin her with censorious look. “This is not a matter over which we make light.”
“I should say not,” she agreed with a frown as the possibilities ran through her mind. “If the assassins are like their Warriors, he’ll never stop hunting you.”
“We know.” It was Lyon’s turn to be terse. His tone gentled as he continued, “That’s one of the reasons we can’t be the ones to take you back to Earth. Even if we had the coordinates, the price would be steep if we were…detained.”
Though it was troubling news, she didn’t want to appear ungrateful. Hands up as though warding off an attack, she responded, “I don’t expect you to risk your lives like that. I’m grateful for all you’ve already done. Please don’t think that I’m not.”
“Nora, you’re allowed to have a reaction and an opinion,” Zocan snapped impatiently. “We’re not angry, we’re simply perturbed at the situation. We’ve had bounties on our heads since Lyara was destroyed. It’s something we are accustomed to. However, one does not simply thwart a CGA assassin. As you so succinctly pointed out, they don’t quit. A friend bought us some time to run, but we must assume the assassin will return.”
Nora’s brows rose. “That must be some friend. I can’t wait to hear that story.”
“Once we’re all safely transferred to a new, well-stocked vessel, we can sit down and reminisce with a few glasses of whatever contraband liquor we can find,” Lyon promised with a grin. “There is plenty of time for that.”
Right now, there were so many things that could go wrong at any moment. Zocan had related that the priests had finally gotten wise and advertised a modest reward for information on their ship. For all she knew, that meant there was a reward for her return as well.
Worse, the easy money and distinctive ship might draw attention to her friends once they were on Coniru. If someone attacked and defeated Lyon, Zocan, Natar and Z’cari, she would eventually be back where she started – starving to death while locked inside a ship.
She’d had several days to observe Jorkan as he flew his ship. Plus, she had a rudimentary familiarity with the CORANOS languages, so she recognized many of their glyphs. There was no way she would be able to fly this big ship when she couldn’t even arm the intruder deterrent without making a thousand mistakes.
“That’s a date.” Nora smiled back at Lyon, grateful that he didn’t notice her growing desperation. This plan had to work.
Chapter 18
For all that Zocan was their leader, Lyon knew everyone looked to him for strategic mission plans and for good reason; he had been on the fast-track to Galaxy Corps Admiral when Lyara was destroyed. Since that day, he had made it his priority to see that Zocan, his mate and king, survived to sit on the throne once more.
Lyon surveyed his small team. The four Lyarans piled into the confines of the kitchen area down the hall from Nora’s rooms. She was napping, so it was an opportune time to discuss the more dangerous aspects of the upcoming foray onto Coniru.
They were all bedraggled, but Z’cari worried him most. The hit he’d taken from the laser in their escape from Xani continued to plague him. He moved slower, favoring his left side. That was the nature of a laser strike. The tissue regenerated, yet the nerves healed slower leaving the survivor with phantom pain and stiffness in the affected area.
“Are you certain you won’t stay and protect the female?” Lyon pressed. A Corpsman’s pride was a delicate thing and Z’cari and Natar had been two of the best.
Z’cari’s dark-gold eyes flashed with insult. Somehow, he kept his response civil and reasonable. The old discipline hadn’t completely died even after all his time serving as a fence and listening post on Xani. “Though its security is somewhat antiquated, the ship’s deterrent system will be more than effective protection for Nora.”
Putting his hands on Z’cari’s broad shoulders, Zocan faced Z’cari as Lyon had known he would. “My friend, mere days ago you were grievously wounded. None of us here expect more than you are capable of giving.”
Natar, his expression one of warring guilt and worry, put a hand on Z’cari’s thick bicep. “I always feel better with you by my side, my love. Still, I would rather know you were safe. Those long days when I didn’t know if you would wake were unbearable.”
Z’cari’s hand came up to cover Natar’s, giving a reassuring squeeze, but Z’cari kept his eyes on Zocan’s. “I will not endanger this mission. You have my promise.” His gaze shot to Lyon’s. “I would not be able to live with myself if I did not go.”
Lyon had expected nothing less, so only nodded and pointed to the stingy table to indicate they should sit. “As you wish.”
The atmosphere in the room relaxed as they settled. Quickly, he outlined the basic plan: they would strip the upgrades from the ship once they were docked at the spaceport and sell them a la carte. In particular, the navigation enhancements and art installations from many parts of the ship would bring decent currency.
A careful inventory of the priest’s treasure room had revealed an unparalleled collection of battle-used artifacts from different galaxies. That would be their payload. Coniru was the ideal place to sell off the coveted pieces. Each unique weapon would no doubt make its way through several hands into private collections, but the records of provenance conveniently displayed beneath each axe, laser, percussion stick and sword would keep the initial sale price for each quite high.
“It’s a good plan,” Natar agreed when Lyon finished speaking. “However, we will be away from the ship for several days best-case. Is Nora prepared?”
“We have done what we can to mitigate any ill-effects this might have on her,” Zocan answered the implied criticism smoothly. “She was tortured and imprisoned on this ship, and now we are going to have to leave her here unaccompanied. It would be brutal on anyone’s psyche, yet she has assured us she will manage.”
“She has a generous spirit,” Z’cari spoke and then hesitated. Clearing his throat, he continued, “Nora sat with me several times over these past days to relieve some of the stress on Natar. I would not repay her kindness with mental duress. I simply cannot stay when my heart goes.” He squeezed Natar’s wrist when he moved to protest. “Perhaps we should find a disguise and bring her with us?”
“Your compassion for Nora is a credit to your good heart,” Lyon answered gravely. “However, I have discussed this with Nora, and she isn’t willing to take the risk. The odds are high that she would be outed – her inexperience in the universe is too great to mask – and we would all suffer if that were to happen.”
Natar, more soft-hearted than the rest, nodded emphatically. “We might live through such a discovery. She would not. Let us not broach that subject again.”
“None of us love this situation,” Zocan said into the silence following Natar’s statement. “That is why it is important that we move swiftly, and if possible, sell this ship as well. I for one would like to ensure she does not have to remain here with the memories of her torture.”
Lyon sat back, pleased that his mate was behaving more like the conscientious leader he had always been. These last days had been hard on Zocan and there wasn’t a reprieve in sight.
“Agreed,” Lyon stated heartily. “And – er – if anyone can procure shoes or better clothing for her without garnering suspicion…,” he trailed off, knowing he could make this dangerous situation seem a little less grim if there was an element of competitive fun involved.
“We could always go with the old ‘buying it for my mother’ ruse,” Z’cari offered doubtfully.
Natar’s eyebrows shot nearly to his hairline.
“Your mother’s feet were nowhere near as dainty as Nora’s.”
Rather than take offense, Z’cari tilted his head in acknowledgement. “You’re right. There is no way to buy anything remotely small enough for her without tipping our hand that there is a young female in our company.”
Lyon nodded soberly. “Even if they didn’t think she was with us, they might follow long enough to be sure.”
“Males on stations like these don’t always have enough to occupy their time,” Z’cari agreed. “And we don’t want that kind of attention.”
Zocan’s smile was predatory and a little wild when he met Lyon’s gaze. He was clearly getting into the spirit of adventure. This was the kind of challenge Zocan enjoyed, and Lyon was happy to see him rebounding. “Perhaps we should see who is best at acquiring things for her?”
Lyon hadn’t seen that sort of reckless excitement in his mate’s gaze in weeks. “Shall we put a wager on it? I can certainly find her better boots than you – and I’m certainly deft enough to pull off such a minor heist.”
Natar chuckled and rubbed his long fingers across his forehead. “You’re going to draw us in to this, aren’t you?”
“I’ve a whole case of Lyaran wine in an emergency cache not too far away,” Zocan dangled the incentive. “If you clothe her before we do, it’s yours. But no bartering or payment. We’re pirates, damnit. It’s time we returned to doing what we do best.”
Chapter 19
Nora watched via the view screen as her four inadvertent liberators entered the unmanned tender that would transport them from the busy space dock to the irradiated surface of Coniru. The tender appeared to be little more than a squat box of reflective metal. Not for the first time, she worried about the wisdom of this plan.
From the surface, the Lyarans would take an old-fashioned tram through a series of pressure-stabilizing tunnels to the caverns deep below the surface of the planet. It seemed like an obscenely complicated and hazardous process, but Zocan and Lyon assured her it was standard operating procedure for places of ill repute.
She watched until the shiny little box was completely out of sight, puttering off into a crowd of identical tenders that dove pel-mel toward the charcoal surface, before she began the process of ensuring her own safety.
With painstaking precision, she set the intruder alarms and armed the deterrents from her position on the flight deck. The big, black seat looked like hard plastic, but it molded to her rear like the hands of a long-lost lover. She triple-checked her work before resorting to asking the ship, “Computer, is the ship secure?”
“Affirmative,” came the robotic reply. It was helpful to have the option of voice command, but it seemed like things were a bit glitchy with the interface between the translation system and the ship’s onboard computer.
“I guess I’m done here,” she said aloud, her voice echoing eerily even as she scoured the cockpit for some little reason to stay and keep watch. The robotic translation of her words grated against her ears.
The light from the viewscreen cast everything in deep blue shadows. It gave the flight deck a vaguely depressing feel. The buttons, switches and palm plates glowed dully as she exited the viewscreen function.
Lyon had warned her that they could be gone for upwards of several days. She was a little apprehensive about staying on the ship alone, but not for the reasons they believed. Yes, she’d had bad experiences here, and yes, she was still troubled by those memories. However, her biggest fear revolved around the wispy timetable.
If they made their exchanges and sold the pirated treasure quickly, then they would all be on their way in short order. Lyon had made certain she understood that wasn’t likely. So, how was she to know when to start panicking?
Nora chuckled nervously as she pushed to her feet. There was no sense sitting here and wondering. If things went sideways, she would know in a few days – a week tops.
In the meantime, she was determined to learn as much as possible about this crazy universe she lived in. The priests had an extensive digital library, and Zocan had kindly offered to hook up his English translation program to the databanks as well.
“Hello? Um…computer?” She felt a bit self-conscious talking aloud to an inanimate object as she made her way to her cabin. It was something she would simply have to become accustomed to if she wanted to survive beyond Earth.
“Listening.” Came back the stilted, mechanical voice.
“Do you have any available data on the planet Lyara?”
“Lyara was the only inhabitable planet in the Lyridius Galaxy. The last Lyaran King, Cezgi of Zo’ral, was purportedly the wealthiest independent monarch in universal history due to his family’s lyridi mines. The -”
“Wait,” Nora interrupted, palming into her cabin. It was a little creepy and a lot convenient that the ship’s intercom system could follow her anywhere. “What is lyridi?”
“Lyridi is an isotopeof the element iridium found only in the Lyridius Galaxy. Like other forms of iridium, it is often found with and easily mistaken for platinum; it is extremely dense, resistant to corrosion, and difficult to work. However, there are several unique components specific to lyridi. Most notably, once lyridi is converted to quartz-coated fuel crystals and properly polarized, the lyridi crystals are capable of harnessing near endless amounts of environmental energy at near zero cost or impact.”
She fell back onto the bed, overwhelmed. “What?”
“Lyridi is an isotope of the element iridium,” the translation system rattled off once more.
“Stop!” Nora massaged her suddenly aching forehead. “Computer, do you have a less-sophisticated definition of lyridi? Like, Lyridi for Dummies or something?”
“Here is an excerpt from a two-hundred-year-old children’s learning data disk: lyridi crystals provide an endless supply of low-impact, low-cost energy.”
“Great.” Nora wasn’t sure if she was talking about the definition or the fact that a simple translation program had called her dumb. “Let’s re-focus on Lyara.”
“The planet Lyara fell victim to its own technological advancements fifteen years ago. It is believed that the crystalized lyridi was carelessly warehoused. Because lyridi is a superconductor of environmental energy, a minor instability in the system’s star – possibly a solar flare – over-taxed the planet’s stores causing an extinction level event.”
“Bummer,” Nora murmured, shocked. That wasn’t how she’d envisioned Lyara going down – not after meeting the four pirates. They had survived in this primitive and often cruel universe over the last fifteen years without being swallowed up. That didn’t exactly scream ‘careless’ to her way of thinking. Essentially, that was what the accepted history concluded; the Lyarans were careless.
“Alright, Computer,” she began, fisting her hands in her lap as she considered voicing her other questions. “What information is available about planet Earth.”
“Searching…”
Nervous didn’t being to cover the feeling in her stomach. It was more like sick worry. What if these alien men - males, whatever – were stringing her along? She wasn’t sure why they would do that, but trust wasn’t something she would readily extend to anyone ever again.
“No direct translation of the phrase planet Earth detected in the data banks,” the computer finally returned. “Instructions?”
Unable to sit quietly and think, she stood to pace the small cabin. “Okay,” she said aloud. “I need to learn so much…” She trailed off, debating internally. “Computer, is there a Surviving the Universe among your titles? Like, some sort of novice’s guide?”
She hated being suspicious, seeking out the ugliness in others, but she didn’t see another way to protect herself, to insulate from the bad things other people could do to her. She couldn’t exactly fight them off, so she needed to be a step ahead. Which was why it was so frustrating not knowing what she didn’t know.
“Negative,” came the prompt response.
“Mierda,” she curse
d without heat. She hadn’t really expected there would be. “Okay. How about this: Computer, is there a tutorial on reading star charts?” She thought that’s what Zocan had called the big, three-dimensional maps that displayed in the cockpit.
“Affirmative. There are four navigational manuals available in the ship’s library.”
Nora felt relatively sure she could pull the star charts up on her own. Inspiration struck. “Computer, is there a tutorial on flying this ship?”
“Affirmative. There is an interactive flight simulator that can be accessed from the flight deck.”
Rubbing her hands together, she did a little hopping dance of happiness. “Alright! Now we’re getting somewhere.”
Energized by the prospect of doing something proactive, she sauntered out of her cabin and aimed for the flight deck. She made a pit-stop at the kitchen to pick up one of the ration bars and an aquaglobe before settling herself back in the ass-molding chair.
“I’m so gonna wow them. They’ll have no choice but to ask me to join their…huh…what is a group of pirates?”
“Band of brigands,” the computer suggested.
“Er – right.” She’d forgotten the translation system could look up answers to questions – and that it was listening to her every word. “Let’s get this show on the road,” she commanded.
A hiss and crackle sounded over the speakers. “Invalid command. Please restate your desires.”
“Really?” Nora grumbled. “That’s your line in the sand? You’ve gotten everything else I’ve said to you, stupid computer.”
She had the dubious pleasure of listening to another, more ominous hiss. “Invalid command. Please restate-.”
“Goddamnit,” Nora cursed roundly. “Start the tutorial already.”