by Leslie Chase
Or, just maybe, very right.
I glanced at Raxa, sitting motionless at her computer station, arm plugged in and brain talking straight to the computer. She had to know about this, it was impossible to imagine her missing it. Which meant that she was covering it up, and that meant…
My heart hammered as I came to the obvious conclusion. Zarr turned, facing the direction of the engineering station, and his eyes narrowed suspiciously. He was on the verge of noticing what I had.
“You won’t win you know,” I said casually, grinning at him. “Not for long anyway. Someone’ll stab you in the back and take the captaincy from you in turn.”
That got his attention away from the power readouts. He sneered at me, hand resting on the hilt of his short sword.
“You never deserved the captain’s chair, Arrax,” he said. “You’re weak and soft, and you’d never hold it. A pirate has to be strong, brutal, willing to do whatever’s needed to make a profit in this world. I understand that, so I’ll keep my crew happy where you’ve ruined yours.”
I laughed, surprising myself. “Don’t be a fool, Zarr. You may be able to buy some of them, perhaps enough to stick as captain, but one mistake and they’ll tear you down. I offered them something more to fight for than just money. All of us have suffered at the hands of the cartels — revenge binds us together in a way cash never will.”
This was only supposed to be a distraction, but as I spoke, the atmosphere in the bridge shifted. The crew were listening to us argue, and Zarr noticed that too. He straightened, glaring at me.
“It’s too late for pretty speeches to make a difference, Arrax. As soon as the Antarans arrive, I’ll sell your pretty little mate to them along with those slaves you rescued, and I’ll be rich. I’m in charge now, and if you don’t want to be dumped out of the airlock you need to shut your mouth.”
Not the best argument to win over the crew. No one spoke, but several exchanged uneasy glances. They weren’t going to change sides over this, but even Elisan and Bron looked less happy with their choices than they had been a minute earlier.
I smiled, leaning back in my chair, showing no sign of the tension inside me. “You’ll be on the other end of a conversation like this soon enough, Zarr. Mutiny never prospers.”
His face darkened and he stepped forward, his cool evaporating in moments. “Shut up, Arrax! You’ve lost, don’t you understand? Shut up and you might still live through this. No one’s on your side, no one’s coming to help you.”
As though that was the signal, we heard a blaster shot from the corridor outside. Shouts of alarm and screams followed and the bridge crew turned as one to stare. All eyes shifted to the door, all except my guards and even they stole glances. A savage grin spread around my face and I gathered my legs under me, ready to pounce if they both looked away at the same time.
The bridge doors slid open. And my heart nearly stopped.
I didn’t know who I’d expected to see leading the charge. Vissa perhaps, or Miggs. Even Jorn was an outside possibility. One of the pirates who’d been with me longest, anyway. Instead, there was Marcie at the head of the slaves she’d rescued from stasis.
Marcie, my beloved mate, waving a stolen sword and wearing one of my coats. She might have looked ridiculous, but instead she was magnificent. The long coat billowed behind her, smoke and flame framed her, and she brandished her stolen weapon with a terrifying glee. Elisan fell back before her, screaming as she swung at him, and his desperate dodge sent him tumbling to the floor.
Behind her came others, shouting and screaming challenges, bursting through the smoke and charging onto the bridge. The slaves, freed from their stasis and ready for a fight.
They were unarmed, untrained fighters, I saw at a glance. No match for hardened pirates, they’d fall as soon as Zarr regained control of his men. This was a doomed attack, suicidal on its own.
But it served a purpose. It distracted Zarr’s men from me for a crucial moment, and that was all I needed.
Leaping up from my chair, I grabbed Bron by the neck and slammed him into the wall. Distracted by Marcie’s sudden appearance, he reacted too slowly, and I had him pinned before his hand reached a weapon.
Another slam left a dent the shape of his head in the wall panel, and his eyes rolled up. I dropped him and snatched the blade from his hand, turning to see what was happening the room.
Two of the liberated slaves were down, clutching wounds. Two more held Elisan by the arms while their fellows rained punches on his head and torso. Zarr advanced, roaring a challenge, sword wet with the blood of one of the attackers.
And his eyes were set on Marcie.
She raised her sword, snarling back, and I knew that she’d never back down. Just as certain, Zarr would slaughter her. Marcie was brave, determined, fierce — but she had no training with the sword she held, and determination would only carry her so far.
Zarr swung his sword and everything seemed to move in slow motion. The blade scythed towards Marcie’s neck as I leaped forward, and her parry came barely in time. A heavy blow staggered her, sending her back a step, and the next would end her.
Killing Zarr would have been easy. His attention on Marcie, I’d have run him through before he knew I was there — if I let him kill her.
Instead, I screamed a challenge as I leaped, and he turned the cut that would have slain my mate into a desperate sweeping parry that knocked my blade aside. But not the rest of me. My rush carried me into him, a collision that sent us both sprawling across the deck.
“I’ll kill you both,” Zarr snarled, fist hammering into my side. Ribs cracked, pain shot through me, but I didn’t flinch. “Antaran bounty be damned, I’ll skin your mate alive while you watch.”
I didn’t let his threats distract me, slamming my head forward to connect with his nose. The impact hurt, but his roar of pain more than made up for that.
Rather than let him hit me again, I rolled to the side, coming to my feet in front of the view screen. The nebula blazed with strange beauty as Zarr came to his feet, facing me.
Blood ran down his green face and he looked at me with a burning hatred. “This ship is mine now,” he shouted. “Mine!”
I looked at him, at the crowd around us. At Marcie. The fighting on the bridge stopped and everyone turned to me and Zarr.
I smiled. A broad grin, for the benefit of the audience. As I’d told Marcie, being a successful pirate is as much about image as it is about fighting skill. But skill had its place too.
“You took this ship with lies, treachery, and cowardice,” I said, pitching my voice to carry. “That doesn’t make you captain. If you want it, come and take it.”
Opening my arms wide, I invited his attack. He didn’t disappoint me, charging with the blood-curdling roar that cowed his victims. Only I wasn’t afraid of Zarr. He was the bastard who had hurt my Marcie, and for that alone I would kill him.
His first lunge met my parry, and he swept my counter aside in turn. Silhouetted against the nebula, we must have made quite a sight, and every eye on the bridge watched as he pressed me back step by step.
Zarr’s years of experience with a sword made him confident, and he had every right to be. I’d had no formal training, just what I’d picked up since I became a pirate. Against his carefully honed skill, that might not be enough.
But I had strength that Zarr would never match or understand. I had Marcie, and I would not fail her. She watched, wide-eyed, as Zarr advanced on me, and I wished there was time to reassure her. To tell her everything would be okay.
Even if I fell here, in this fight, I swore I would take Zarr with me into the darkness. Marcie would be safe.
Zarr’s sword swung again and again, fast and powerful blows glancing off my parries, each one forcing me back. I had no time to counter, no time to respond, and the attacks came so fast I barely managed to parry each one. Unless I did something soon, I’d run into a wall and be pinned to it.
A bloody grin on his face, Zarr saw his vi
ctory. And that made him overconfident. He’d learned his fighting skills formally, and he was good. But good wouldn’t be enough, not today.
On my next step back, I stopped dead and thrust. Used to me fighting defensively, Zarr barely managed to change his cut into a parry in time to knock my blade offline. His counter would have opened my throat if I’d let it. Instead, I swung my left fist in a brutal blow into his broken nose.
The blade struck my shoulder rather than my neck and lost much of its strength. Still, it sliced deep into my flesh and bright pain filled me. My sword clattered to the deck, falling from my injured hand, and I knew that if I let Zarr recover, he’d slaughter me.
I had no intention of letting that happen. Grabbing his sword hand with my own, I rushed him. We met with bruising force and the impact carried us to the floor.
Zarr howled, a wordless cry of outrage and fear, but I paid him no heed. My hands both locked on his blade, twisting it between us, and he struggled to get out from under me.
The edge of his sword bit into my palm, and I welcomed the pain like an old friend. Pain didn’t bother me; I had grown used to worse. Zarr, on the other hand, wasn’t used to suffering for a victory. He screamed and squirmed, trying to escape, outraged shouts giving way to pleading whimpers as I brought the point of his sword around to his throat.
“Perhaps if you hadn’t threatened Marcie I might have spared you,” I growled, and put all my weight behind the blade. His mouth opened to protest, and before he could speak his own sword opened his throat. Blood spurted, he kicked, and then the light went out in his eyes.
I wanted to collapse beside Zarr’s corpse so badly. My body was made of pain and wounds, and I’d worn myself out fighting him. But there was still work to do. Bracing myself, I straightened up and roared my victory to the bridge.
All around, the crew and the liberated slaves stared at me. I must have been quite a sight, injured and covered in blood — my own and Zarr’s. Marcie was the first to react, raising her own sword in salute and cheering. Her followers joined in moments later, followed by the rest of the bridge crew. Those who’d been fighting against her dropped their weapons.
I looked at Marcie’s shining face and smiled. She managed to maintain her dignity for all of a second before laughing and leaping into my arms. I caught her and swung her up into a kiss as fresh cheers erupted around us, but I paid them no mind.
For one shining moment, we held each other and ignored the rest of the world in our triumph. I had my Marcie, and she had me. That was what mattered. But while the mutiny was over, the battle wasn’t done yet. We still had the Antarans to deal with.
23
Marcie
Now that I held Arrax in my arms again, I wanted to cling to him forever. But there wasn’t time, not yet. My beloved held me tight and swung me around before setting me down and addressing the crew.
“The mutiny is over,” he shouted, voice firm and brooking no argument. “Raxa, patch me through to the ship.”
“Broadcasting,” she said in the dreamy voice she used when plugged into the Revenge. Did I detect a hint of smugness? Perhaps I’d learned how to read her, or perhaps I just imagined it.
Arrax drew himself up and spoke, his words echoing form the speakers. “This is your captain. Stand down. The mutiny is over, and anyone who continues to fight will be thrown out of an airlock. Stop fighting now and no one will be punished for following Zarr.”
The last sounds of the fight outside fell silent, and Arrax waited a moment to be sure the battle was done. The steel in his voice left no doubt what would happen to anyone who abused his clemency and I shivered, hoping that no one would make that mistake. Zarr was dead, and the rest? I didn’t need to see them thrown out of an airlock.
“Good,” he continued. “Now, anyone not happy following me can lock themselves in the cargo bay. You won’t be punished, but you will stay out of my way for the fight that’s coming. Anyone who stays, I expect to be behind me one hundred percent.”
“What about us?” Myros, the leader of the freed slaves said, pushing his way to the front. His knuckles bloody, he’d clearly given as good as he’d gotten in the fight.
Arrax grinned, looking at him, then at me. His eyes twinkled and he stepped forward to embrace Myros.
“You’re free,” Arrax said as they separated. “I never intended anything else for you. But since you’ve fought at my mate’s side and helped me retake my ship, you are welcome to join my crew. I can use people like you.”
“Become a pirate?” Myros’s eyes widened and he looked around, dubious. I didn’t blame him: not long ago the idea had horrified me. Any other crew, any other captain, and it still would.
“Yes,” Arrax told him. “Become a pirate who steals from slavers, and free more people like yourself. I’ll not force you, though. Go with my blessing, if that’s not the path for you.”
“You’re damned right it’s the path for me,” Myros proclaimed. “I can’t speak for all of us, but I’m in.”
“Everyone gets to make their own choices,” Arrax said with a nod, clapping him on the shoulder. “But quickly. The Antarans are almost on us.”
I glanced at the display. He was right: a red icon approached rapidly.
“Shouldn’t we leave?” I asked, quiet enough that no one else would hear. Looking at the chaos around us, I didn’t think the Atreon’s Revenge was in any condition for a fight.
Arrax lifted me so we were face to face, looking earnestly into my eyes. “These are the men who chased you from your home, my love. They hunted you across the stars. I will not run from them: I will kill them for you and make sure you’re safe.”
I swallowed at that, warmth flooding my body. The anger Arrax held for anyone who threatened me was something I wasn’t sure I’d get used to, but it was good to know he had my back.
“Everyone to your stations,” he shouted as he put me down again. “Full power to engines, take us at them. Vissa, Trin, get out there as quick as you can. Raxa, hail the Antarans.”
The chaos around us fell away as he shouted orders and the pirates fell in line. Under my feet the deck vibrated with power as the engines came to life, flinging us towards the startled enemy ship. Arrax turned to face the view screen as Raxa made the call, his arm still around my shoulders.
A face appeared on the screen, green and angry. Behind the Antaran I saw the bridge, all shining white lines and perfect forms. An expensive luxury vessel brought to a fight — I’d bet on the Revenge any day, despite its patchwork repairs.
To my surprise I recognized the Antaran. He was one of the men who’d hunted me on Earth, who’d terrified me into seeking refuge out here amongst the stars. Instead of the terror I’d expected I felt a surge of anger and confidence. With Arrax at my side, with my mate to protect me, I didn’t have to fear this man anymore.
“What is the meaning of this?” the Antaran mobster blustered. “I am Shrell Prendar, captain of the Wicked Smile, and I’m here as arranged to collect the human female. I will pay a small fortune for her. Stand down your weapons.”
“I am Captain Arrax of the Atreon’s Revenge,” my mate replied with a fierce and hungry grin. “Marcie Cole is my mate, and you have threatened her for the last time. Stand down yourself and prepare to be boarded.”
The display showed our xil fighters leap into space as the Antarans turned to run. Prendar hissed at the screen, outraged.
“We had a deal,” he said. “Arrangements were made.”
“Not with me,” Arrax told him. “The deal you get is this: surrender your ship or die. That’s more generous than I should be.”
“A fight will cost you,” Prendar said, a wheedling tone entering his voice. Turrets spat fire at the fighters, missing the xil fighters as they began their attack. “I’ll pay well if you let us go. Keep the human, even. I don’t care.”
Arrax looked down at me, a grin on his face, and I felt the crew’s attention as they waited for my response. Everyone watched to see how I’d
react, and it should have frightened me to be the focus of attention like that.
Yesterday it would have. But I’d learned better, and with Arrax at my side I knew that I had nothing to fear. Facing the screen I looked the Antaran in the eye and drew my sword, pointing it at his throat.
“Let’s go get our prize,” I said, and behind me the pirates cheered. Prendar paled, his green skin mottling in fear, and the connection cut out. The Wicked Smile accelerated, but our fighters were too close and too fast. They wouldn’t get far.
“Beloved, take the helm,” Arrax said. “I will lead the attack, you command the ship.”
Part of me wanted to argue, to go with him on the raid, to fight the Antarans in person. But my body was already weak from my battle with Zarr, adrenaline leaving me shaking, and I didn’t want to push my luck. Plus, Arrax didn’t need the distraction. On his own he was more than capable of taking the ship.
So I nodded, sheathed my sword, and grabbed him by the collar. He lifted me into a powerful embrace, a kiss that left me staggered and light headed.
“For luck,” he said, laughing, and I grinned as I collapsed back into the captain’s chair.
“Luck,” I agreed breathlessly. “Don’t you dare get yourself hurt over there, you hear?”
Arrax’s grin was large enough to swallow worlds. “Don’t worry. I’ve got too many plans for you to waste time in the infirmary!”
The crew cheered and my cheeks burned. Arrax laughed and turned away, sweeping off the bridge and pulling the assault crew in his wake.
Once the pirates boarded the Wicked Smile, the fighting was quick and mercifully painless. I watched from the bridge of the Atreon’s Revenge as the boarding party swept through the gangsters’ ship, and while the Antarans were tough bastards on their own turf, they were no match for Arrax and his men.
Thank god, because I’d have hated to lose him now.