by Leslie Chase
That put a dampener on my good mood, and I hoped that Marcie had found somewhere to save money. Dropping the Revenge to three engines wouldn’t be good, but risking all of them burning out was worse — and either way, we’d have trouble chasing down our prey.
It wouldn’t make hunting impossible: merchant ships didn’t tend to have powerful engines, so we’d still catch them eventually. We’d just face more danger on the way in, and any damage we took would add to the repair costs.
The real risk, though, was that we’d meet a ship that was geared for a fight. With our engines in this state, we wouldn’t be able to run.
“Cannibalize number four,” I said, clapping Miggs on the shoulder. “Better to have three engines at full power until we can get to a dockyard and make full repairs. How long will it take?”
“Two days, maybe three,” he told me, frowning. “Or I can keep two engines online the whole time, that’ll add a day but means we can move while I work.”
“Do that. We need to hunt.” Operating on two engines would be slow but sitting still in the middle of the nebula and waiting was worse. The crew needed their prize, and I needed money for these repairs.
Miggs sprang to work behind me as I pulled my way up out of the engine room. At last I’d finished my rounds, and that meant I was free for the evening. Time to see how Marcie was getting on with the accounts. We can have the whole night to ourselves, I thought.
I should have known better than to tempt fate like that. No sooner had I thought her name than an urgent call came through to my drone. Jorn again — I cursed as I answered it, wondering who’d gotten themselves knifed this time.
“Captain, mess hall right now.” The doctor didn’t bother making fun of me, and that meant this was serious. I leaped forward without asking questions, sending the drone flying ahead.
It would arrive seconds before me, but those seconds might be vital. The display showed me what I was running into, and I cursed under my breath.
The mess was crowded, mostly with newer crew, and Marcie sat at the far end, pinned to a seat by Zarr. Trin and Vissa stood back to back, glaring at the men around them, and their knives were out. Something had gone terribly wrong, but before I saw any more, something struck the drone and sent it skidding across the deck.
No time for anything clever, no time to gather allies. This riot had to be put down now or everything would spiral out of control. Everyone on this ship was a warrior, and once a fight started it wouldn’t be easy to stop.
And Marcie, sweet delicate Marcie, was in the heart of it. Rage surged through me at the thought of Zarr laying his hands on her, and if anyone dared hurt her I’d rip their head off.
The mess room door slammed open and I leaped in, roaring a challenge. The shouting crowd fell silent, turning to face me in shock, but I ignored them to face down Zarr.
His fingers gripped Marcie’s shoulder tight, pressing into her skin painfully through her borrowed shirt. My mate sat rigid in the chair, her face pale and her eyes fixed on me.
“What is the meaning of this?” I demanded, looking into Zarr’s too-smug eyes. “Let her go at once.”
“Why?” he answered, grinning nastily. “So you can claim her as your prize? We all get a share in looted treasure.”
My hand twitched towards the butt of my pistol, and I longed to put a blaster bolt into that face. Or, more satisfyingly, to close with him and take him apart with my sword. Reducing Marcie to treasure, to a thing to be fought over, made my blood boil.
His eyes narrowed and I realized that was the point. If I drew a weapon, if I attacked him, the crew would see me lose the argument. And in his arrogance, he assumed he’d be able to take whatever I threw at him, at least long enough for the others to intervene on his side.
Much as I wanted to burn a hole through his head, I refused to put Marcie in danger like that. I had to try words first.
“Marcie is not a prize, she’s a member of the crew,” I said, drawing myself up and striding forward. “The same as any of you, and she gets the same protection. Anyone who doesn’t like that can go find another ship to work on, because you’re not welcome here.”
I addressed the crowd, rather than Zarr. No matter what happened now, he was done on this ship. The best I’d offer him was the chance to leave with his limbs intact.
The crew shuffled and muttered, and I felt the mood of the mess shifting around me. Some sided with Zarr, others with me, but the majority weren’t sure. I gritted my teeth and tried to keep my frustration from showing.
Zarr laughed, a fake and hollow sound, mocking rather than humorous. “Arrax, this human isn’t a pirate. She turned her gun on you during the raid on the Crimson Feast, didn’t she? She’s fair game. And she’s worth a hundred thousand to the Antarans. Each of us deserves our share, and you don’t get to hold out on us just because she’s good in bed.”
Red rage filled my vision and for a moment all I heard was the blood pounding in my ears. Every muscle in my body tensed. Forget the blaster, I wanted to fly at him, to punch and bite and tear. To avenge the insult to my mate and show every single crewman what would happen if they dared speak of Marcie that way.
I took a step toward Zarr and he flinched back, his arrogant facade crumbling as I advanced on him. But rather than let go of Marcie’s shoulder, he drew a dagger in his left hand.
The distance was too great. If I lunged now, he’s be able to slice her throat open before I reached him. I forced myself to stop, waiting for a moment when it would be safe to strike.
“You see?” Zarr addressed the crew, not me. “Arrax is distracted by his human, and he’s not thinking of the crew. He’s just thinking of himself and his cock.”
Dark mutterings from the crew surrounded me. He’d picked this crowd well, filling it with the people most likely to listen. Most desperate for money, most likely to turn on me. But they weren’t all traitors.
“She’s one of us now, like it or not,” Vissa hissed. “Or are you going to pretend we couldn’t make money selling you back to your homeworld, Zarr?”
He laughed again. “Not a tenth of what we’ll get for her, but if you’re so keen to keep her I’ll offer a deal. A fair deal.”
“No deals with mutineers,” I snapped, not wanting the crew to hear whatever he had to say. He’d planned this out, and the first rule of battle was control. If he controlled the conversation, I didn’t like my chances.
“It’s not a mutiny if the captain stops working for his crew,” Zarr said, so sweetly that I felt nauseous. “You want the human, you can keep her — but you step down and give me the captaincy.”
A rumble of anger rounded the room and I thought he’d made a misstep. The following he’d gained was there for the wealth he promised, not out of any loyalty to him. If he gave me Marcie, no one got paid.
But Zarr didn’t falter. “Instead, we’ll trade the Antarans our hold full of slaves. There are riches all around us if we’re not too picky to take them — like Arrax is.”
“We’re not slavers,” I snapped, but the crowd’s anger turned to approval in an instant. Not everyone, of course, but too many were swayed by the promise of riches. Zarr had picked his time and his audience, and he’d done it well.
I had to do something fast, regain the initiative. The question was what? As long as Zarr held my mate, acting against him sealed her fate. Marcie’s expression hardened as our eyes met, and she nodded, a tiny gesture. Encouraging me to act.
My heart swelled with love for her, and I wished there was a way to get her to safety before I took the battle to Zarr. But there would be no other chance — at best, after this, I’d be confined to quarters until Zarr put us ashore on some space station. More likely, he’d kill me to be rid of a threat to his authority and sell Marcie no matter what agreement we’d reached.
I should never have trusted that snake, no matter the skills he’d brought to the Atreon’s Revenge.
Nodding back at Marcie, I let go of that anger. It served no purpo
se here, and she needed me to act with a clear mind and purpose. The shadow of a smile touched her beautiful lips, and I saw that she understood. Together.
We might not win, but we’d face whatever happened together.
When we moved, we moved as one. As though we’d practiced for this moment. Marcie drove her elbow back, hard, into Zarr’s gut. As he gasped and loosened his grip, I lunged for him. My sword swept around in a cut that should have opened his throat, but the snake was fast, diving back against the wall. The blade missed by a hair’s breadth.
Everything seemed to happen in slow motion as I followed him. It felt as though I was dragging my sword through sticky sap, bringing the point into line for a thrust, and Zarr’s hand went to his own blade. He’d never draw it in time, and pinned against the wall he had nowhere to retreat to.
Marcie dove aside, out of the way, and her eyes widened as she saw something behind me. Her shout of warning came too late, I’d already committed to my attack, and before the tip of my sword found Zarr’s heart, something slammed into the back of my head. Pain blossomed, my limbs jerked, and I fell.
Everything went black, but I felt the impact as my sword struck flesh. Good. I tried to cut again, only for my limbs to betray me as consciousness fled.
At my back, the room dissolved into chaos. I heard shouts of pain and blades clashing, the riot starting in earnest. And Marcie, crying out my name.
19
Marcie
Arrax crumpled to the deck, my warning coming too late. Zarr’s henchman Elisan stood over him, club raised high, and Zarr roared in pain and rage. A bloody cut across his cheek marked where Arrax’s blade had struck, carving deep enough to leave a nasty scar.
Not enough to stop him, though, and for a moment I considered trying to finish the job Arrax had started. But Zarr had his blade drawn now, and I had no weapon. No chance I’d do anything other than get myself killed.
Instead, I launched myself at Elisan, hitting him before he had the chance to bring his club down on Arrax again. My shoulder drove deep into his stomach, catching him by surprise and driving him back into the melee behind him.
That fight wasn’t going our way. I might not have been in many brawls but I didn’t need any experience to see how this one would turn out. Trin and Vissa stood back to back, their knives darting out in a beautiful, deadly dance that held back those around them, but there were too few others on their side.
On our side.
I looked for Arrax’s fallen sword, but Zarr stepped on the blade before I had a chance to pick it up. Towering over me, he bellowed a shout that drew the crowd’s attention.
“Enough!” His voice filled the mess, carrying enough authority to make the fight pause. Gesturing down at Arrax, he continued. “I’m Captain now, see? Fight it and you’ll lose. Accept it, and if you really don’t want to fight for me, I’ll cash you out at the next port. We’ll have the money to do that now.”
Arrax’s loyalists grumbled but, one by one, they lowered their weapons. It was hard to blame them when Arrax lay still on the deck, barely breathing. They were outnumbered, outgunned, and fighting for a captain who wouldn’t survive the battle.
The xil were the last to move.
“Arrax lives too,” Trin said. “No deal unless he gets his wound treated and cashed out with the rest of us. And Marcie. Whether you like it or not, she’s a member of the crew and she gets her share.”
I grimaced. If the xil were willing to bargain, then the fight was lost. I tried to take comfort from the fact that they were bargaining in my favor. Maybe that would be for the best? Arrax and I put ashore somewhere, given another chance to start over with some money in our pockets. It didn’t sound too bad.
A pity it wouldn’t work out that way. Given a chance, Zarr would find an excuse to kill Arrax and hand me over, I knew it.
Zarr nodded, his smile large enough to swallow worlds. “If that’s what it’ll cost to make you take this deal, then fair enough. I’m not an unreasonable captain, see? I’ll listen to my crew.”
Listen long enough to get the ship under his control, I thought, and not a second longer. But the promise was enough. Arrax’s loyalists muttered and sheathed their blades.
“Take Arrax to the infirmary,” Zarr ordered. “I’ll look after the human myself.”
Gripping my shoulder in his painfully strong grip, he pulled me to my feet as the others lifted Arrax and carried him away. I tried to follow, but Zarr pulled me aside, guiding me out of the mess and ignoring my struggles.
“I’m not going to make the mistake of keeping you two in one place,” Zarr said. “Don’t want him causing trouble when he comes round, see, and if you two are together I’m not sure he’ll keep to the deal.”
“Should he?” I asked. “Or are you going to find a convenient time for him to have an accident so he can’t challenge your rule?”
Despite his bleeding wound, he laughed, a more genuine sound than I’d heard from him. “So suspicious! Don’t worry about Arrax, human. The crew are fond of him for some reason, and I had to work hard to ruin things enough that they’d pick me over him. Now I’m Captain, I don’t want to mess that up by killing him when I can just drop him off somewhere.”
It surprised me a little that Zarr actually seemed to mean his promise to the crew, but then he needed them to trust him. I frowned at the rest of what he said, though.
“You engineered this? You made sure that Arrax didn’t make enough money to succeed?” It made sense of the mess I’d found in the accounts. Somehow that seemed worse than the straightforward betrayal of attacking Arrax. Mutiny was bad, but deliberately arranging a situation that inspired a mutiny was even worse.
But Zarr’s smug smile told me everything. He was proud of his manipulation, proud that he’d pulled it off, and he wanted someone to gloat to. Apparently I was his choice.
“Of course I engineered it,” he told me. “Arrax is too good a captain to fail on his own. He needed a little push.”
As he said the word, he shoved me into the wall, a painful bash against the cold metal, and laughed. Just another bully when no one was watching, I thought, wincing and trying to hold myself together.
“You needn’t think about trying to spread that story, though,” he continued, pulling me deeper into the ship by my arm. “You won’t be aboard long enough, and I don’t intend to let you talk to anyone before the Antarans arrive to collect you.”
I twisted around to glare at him. “You promised the others I’d be set free.”
“Yes, well,” he said, chuckling. “The crew’s fond of Arrax, but you? I doubt they’ll care much when they see the money I make off the deal, and I’d rather have you off my ship before you can cause me any more headaches. Besides, I owe Arrax for this cut, see? And if I can’t take that out on him, you’re the next best target.”
Without giving me a chance to respond, he opened a door and shoved me into the captain’s cabin. I stumbled against the gravity bed, turning to glare at him. He smirked down at me, blood dripping from his wound.
“They’re already on their way, so make yourself comfortable,” he told me. “In a few hours you’ll be face to face with the Antarans.”
The door hissed shut and locked behind him before I had a chance to object, and I hammered on it with my fists. No response. My worst nightmares were coming true all at once, and there was nothing I could do about it.
20
Arrax
Darkness receded painfully, and I blinked my eyes open against a blinding light. I tried to sit up, but a firm hand restrained me.
“Elisan gave you a nasty head wound,” Doctor Jorn said as I swam back to consciousness. “If you don’t want me to make it worse, Arrax, sit yourself still.”
I groaned and tried to follow his instructions, fighting to keep still despite the throbbing pain in my skull. It felt as though a small army was trying to kick their way out of my head.
Memory surfaced in bits and pieces. A riot in the mess, Zarr threate
ning Marcie… my eyes flicked open and I sat up, ignoring Jorn’s curses.
“Where is she?” I demanded, ignoring his irritation. My medical needs came far below Marcie’s safety.
“Stay still, damn it,” the doctor told me, trying to push me back onto the bed. “Your human’s not hurt.”
That didn’t answer my question. I glared at Jorn so balefully that he paled and stepped back, raising his hands.
“Fine,” he said. “Sure, I’ll tell you what I know. It’s not much. Zarr has her locked away somewhere and we’re heading to meet someone. I’m supposed to patch you up and let Zarr know when you’re up.”
“The Antarans.” It wasn’t a question. I saw it as clear as a star going nova — Zarr needed quick money to cement his support, and that meant selling Marcie back to the people she was running from.
Jorn shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “Could be. I don’t know what’s happening here, all I know is that Zarr’s calling himself Captain now and he wants to see you on the bridge as soon as you’re awake.”
I stood, swayed, and had to grab a wall for balance. Either the gravity was malfunctioning, or my injury was still affecting me. Elisan hit hard.
Doesn’t matter. However badly off I am, I have to deal with this now. I straightened up, took a deep breath, and steadied myself. Checked my belt.
No sword, no pistol, nothing. My teeth ground together, frustration mounting. Of course Zarr hadn’t left me armed, he wasn’t stupid. Without weapons, my odds of winning a fight went from bad to nonexistent.
“Where’s my gear?” I asked. Jorn shrugged again.
“Probably in the armory, if I had to guess. You gave Zarr a nasty cut and I doubt he wants you to have another go.”
“At least I achieved something,” I said, trying to see the bright side. Jorn laughed half-heartedly.