by Gun Brooke
“I agree.” Taking a couple of deep breaths to calm herself, Beaux shoved her fingers through her hair. “I need one of you to go back—and I’m assuming you arrived in the Rapidfire—and arrange for a two-shift skeleton crew aboard the Empress. The passengers have enough equipment left in orbit to fit into one shuttle.” Tapping her lower lip, Beaux thought fast. “I never trusted these people while en route here, and I trust them even less now. They outgun us ten to one down here, where they’re allowed to carry weapons.”
“We need to bring the crew down in one swoop.” Veyar rubbed the back of his neck.
“And we also need to be tactical if all hell breaks loose.” Beaux thought fast. She had four shuttles to play with, along with eight mini-scuttles, and the Rapidfire, which could hold four crew in the front and twelve passengers in the back. It was her latest investment, and its propulsion system was state of the art. “Take one of the shuttles here back. Use Lieutenant Ashdo to pilot it.” She turned to Somas. “On the second shuttle, dislodge the two scuttles and park them within our part of the camp.” Looking over at the crew, who kept a respectful distance around the senior officers, she spotted Ashdo’s copilot and waved him over. “Ensign Pylo. You’ve trained on the Rapidfire, right?”
“Aye, sir.” The ensign nodded eagerly.
“I want you and two crewmen to take off. Head for orbit, but once you’re behind the mountain, turn east and hide the craft within a day’s walking distance. Remain by the ship, and do not venture out alone in the forest. We know nothing of the flora and fauna of this world.” Beaux cringed at how she knew to say this and how she had conveniently disregarded how she had trained her crew. “You should have enough rations and supplies to keep all three of you comfortable. Someone will page you every hour on our secure channel.”
Looking a little pale now, the young ensign nodded again. “Yes, sir.”
“You have gone through my survival training camps. You know how to stay sharp and smart, and so do your shipmates. All right? Any questions?”
“I overheard something, earlier. Are we in trouble with the passengers, sir?” Pylo sent a dark look in the general direction of the larger part of the camp.
“Not quite yet, but I like to plan ahead.” Beaux squeezed his arm. “Go pick two shipmates you work really well with.”
Relaxing marginally into a smile, Pylo nodded. “That’s easy, sir. I just have to grab the two I run into first.”
Beaux returned his smile. She was aware of the strong bonds between her crewmembers, and to hear it confirmed now was reassuring. “Good.” She turned back to Somas and Veyar. “Back on the Empress, fill one shuttle with the rest of their equipment and the other with everyone who’s not part of the skeleton crew. Any other ideas before you take off?”
“Only for you to watch your back, sir,” Veyar said, his dark eyes serious.
“We all will. I know I don’t have to tell you to return here as fast as possible. If Kragh and Drak are on the warpath, you can be sure those volatile miners are quick enough to do their bidding, especially if they feel their wages and bonuses are in jeopardy.” Pushing back her anger again, Beaux could tell the two men were as concerned as she was.
“Shuttle three is already about two-thirds loaded,” Somas said. “It won’t take the crew long to ready it and to grab their emergency packs and board the one we bring back.”
“Excellent. I’m going to place guards and patrol the perimeter until you come back. Use our main secure channel. And establish contact with Cimeria Prime’s authorities before you return. Also, bring our portable long-range communication console. We might need to keep in contact from planetside as well.”
The two men nodded and hurried toward the shuttle. A roar made everyone turn and watch the Rapidfire rise to the sky. Beaux pulled out a small ocular from one of her pockets and directed it toward the passengers. Their security staff came running but was stopped by the ones from her crew that guarded the entrance of their part of the camp. Nobody had drawn their weapons again—yet—but she could feel the tension from here.
The sound of shuttle one starting its propulsion system seemed to startle the passengers. Staggering back, some of them did indeed pull their weapons, but her crew was prepared and aimed at Ilienta’s people.
Beaux hurried through the camp and joined her crew at the entrance to their part. “You’re in violation of the contract signed by Ilienta Enterprises and me,” she barked, glaring at the tall, pale men. Most of Ilienta’s high-ranking staff appeared to originate from Cimeria Minor, a small planetoid in the outskirts of their system. Genetically, the locals possessed translucent, pale skin and white-blond hair. Some even had red-tinted eyes. Beaux challenged the one with the highest rank among those present with an unwavering look. “I just went over this with Kragh and Drak. If you have any issues with how I choose to conduct my business and command my ship, take it up with them. I’m going to have my crew cordon off a safety area between our camps until I’ve contacted Cimeria Prime, Ilienta Enterprises headquarters, and the Commercial Bureau.”
“You’re the one in breach of contract, Captain,” the security officer in charge said. “You’re supposed to bring one more shuttle down with equipment, not take one of the others back up. And what the hell was that ship that launched just before?” He took a step closer to Beaux, who didn’t back down. Nor did she pull her weapon.
Feeling a cool smile spread on her lips, Beaux merely shook her head. “I’m not dealing with underlings. You need to step back into your own part of the camp. I don’t know how Ilienta conducts business on Cimeria Minor, but my contract with the company is ironclad and very clear. Regarding whatever decisions I see fit to make, I have complete authority.” She didn’t bid the annoying man good-bye but pivoted and returned to where Tracks and Nia were standing. “We need to sweep the perimeter and extend more of our wiring. I don’t trust these people for a second. Something is brewing over in their camp, and I’m not sure why they don’t just get on with business.”
“They’re a bad bunch, those suits. And their security staff too.” Tracks was once again chewing on a twig. “I’ve already pulled some more wires from the storage. I have enough crewmembers for us to cover a perimeter a few meters outside the first one.”
“Sir, we should set the current to twice what we used on the inner wire,” Nia said darkly.
Beaux nodded. “Good thinking.” She looked around at the crewmembers who had joined them. Some had never gone to bed after their night shifts, but they all looked equal parts somber and sharp. “I need two more teams helping with the wire. In the meantime, I’ll patrol the area toward the valley with one of you, and you four,” she said and pointed at two men and two women, “take the top side and the slope. Watch where you step through the wire. Remember how we’ve trained where to cross it safely. And remember, we don’t know what lives in these woods.” Beaux waved over the young man she’d chosen to accompany her. “Let’s go. Keep your communicators on standby on our secure channel. All right?”
“Aye, sir,” her crew said simultaneously.
Beaux regarded the young crewman next to her. “They call you Zac, right?”
“Yes, Captain.” Not very tall, but wiry and muscular, Zac strapped on a small backpack and hoisted a laser-blue rifle. He was a junior member of her security team and technically still in training, but she knew he was very capable.
“Let’s go. I want to make sure Ilienta’s people aren’t trying to surround us. Until our people arrive, we’re outnumbered.”
“That may be true,” Zac said, “but they don’t outsmart us, which is just as important.”
Beau slapped Zac on the shoulder as they neared the wire on the side facing the valley. “You remember how to maneuver through this, I take it?”
“I do.” Zac pulled out a small device and clamped it carefully to the wire. It turned off the current a meter in each direction until it was removed. He skipped over the wire and crawled under the next one.
&n
bsp; Beaux held her sidearm ready and made sure nobody was waiting for them on the other side. Following Zac, she lifted the ocular to her right eye and scanned the area. She tucked it back into her pocket and then motioned for him to follow her. “Keep a lookout for animals as well. That thing I saw wasn’t pretty.”
“You were out alone, sir? In the forest?” Zac frowned as they rounded some trees. “But…”
“I know. I’ll write myself up later.” Beaux sighed. The crew would never let her live that down—let alone Veyar and Somas when they heard about it.
They walked along the perimeter, and this time, Beaux barely noticed the sweet-scented air or the sound of flying creatures among the trees. She looked for people who had their own, ill-advised agenda and signs of large beasts.
As they closed in on some large rock formations, Beaux heard something that certainly didn’t sound like harmless flying creatures. The unmistakable sound like a dry branch snapping not far from them made her stop and raise her fist. Zac stopped behind her. Her heart hammered as Beaux pulled out her ocular again, but before she had time to scan the area again, she saw a red flash and heard a muted pop. Behind her, Zac gave a muted cry. She snapped her head around in his direction and saw a large red stain form in the center of his chest. He stared at her with such bewilderment that fury and sorrow flooded her system as she pulled him down with her.
Heavy footfalls thudded mutedly against the springy ground, and Beaux tugged harder at Zac’s limp body. Rationally she knew she could do nothing for him, but still she refused to let him go. She kicked her legs against the ground, bracing herself against the superficial, thick root system. Shoving one hand into Zac’s harness and holding her sidearm with the other, Beaux knew she wasn’t moving fast enough. Frantically, she looked around, trying to find a place where she could hide them both. That was all she could think about as she growled under her breath at feeling entirely useless. Now she heard male voices as the shooters neared.
Beaux stopped moving and tried to quiet her breathing. She looked down at Zac’s face where his head rested against her thigh. Her uniform leg was drenched with blood, and his eyes stared unseeing up at the leafage above them. Life had left the young man who had followed her so willingly and who had showed nothing but enthusiasm and courage since she had employed him. She wanted to howl a battle cry, stand up, and fire at the ones responsible for this murder. Instead, her heart shattered when she had to let him go.
Beaux untangled her hand and began sliding sideways, trying to move as far away from the approaching shooters as she could. She wanted to call for backup, but her only hope of surviving was if the enemy couldn’t spot her exact location. If she engaged the communicator, they’d be able to hear her. Aware she was leaving a visible track where she crawled toward denser vegetation, Beaux tried to pick up the pace.
Moving faster now, she started to think she might stand a chance, especially if she could fire on the first one to come into view. It might make the others hesitate. She reached some shrubbery, and eager to find cover, she pushed herself backward, unwilling to turn her back on the approaching shooters, still holding on to her weapon. Just as she saw the branches begin to offer protection on both sides of her, the ground disappeared beneath her—and she fell. Stunned, she tumbled through the air and then hit the wall of what might be a ravine. Her training kicking in, she tried to curl up, but then she slammed into the ground below.
Chapter Seven
Moon ducked at the popping sound. Sliding in behind the shrubbery and under one of the protruding rocks, she pressed herself against the cold, rugged surface. Why were they shooting at each other? Weren’t they all here for the same purpose? With her heart thundering, Moon found it hard to breathe as she listened to stomping feet in the distance and frantic shuffling much closer. Damn it, the people above were drawing the ones doing the shooting closer to her position. She was more than three hundred meters away from her shelter. Moon wished it were possible for her to retreat, but they were too close, and more were coming.
Someone was grunting from above. It sounded like they were dragging something along. Had someone been shot? Was that person unconscious or dead? Images of tiny bodies floating in space next to the fractured ship she had escaped from flickered through her mind. Men, women…children. The anguish rose like bile within her, mixing with her fear of being detected.
Something pressed against her, and she slapped her hand over her mouth to stop an inadvertent yelp. She looked down at Dancer, who showed all his teeth, including the sharp double fangs. Placing a finger against his nose, she shook her head and hushed him in a barely audible voice. Dancer scowled at her but didn’t growl aloud.
The steps were so close now, Moon knew the people approaching would soon find the person crawling around above her. She pressed her forehead against Dancer’s, trying to absorb his warmth. It was chilly under the rock formation.
A faint gasp from above was cut short, and just as Moon was certain the shooters had found the ones she surmised were trying to get away, a body slammed into the ground in front of her and Dancer.
Gaping, Moon stared at the sight of the woman she had followed back to the camp yesterday. She lay in a heap two meters from her, with her eyes closed and blood starting to trickle from her temple. Dancer growled now, and Moon pushed her palm against his nose. “No!” she whispered. Quickly gazing upward, she realized the woman had to have fallen from the tall bushes at the top of the rocks. Reacting without thinking her actions through, Moon threw herself forward and began tugging at the unconscious woman. As she rolled the woman over, she noticed a name tag in passing. Beaux Lestarion. Time was running out, and soon the shooters would be looking down at them, she could just feel it, so Moon struggled to haul Beaux in under the rock formation. With a little bit of luck, the shooters might think this woman had run back to the camp and would return with reinforcements.
Dancer came to her aid, wrinkling his nose as she grabbed Beaux’s collar and tugged. His efforts made it possible for her to push the unconscious woman close to the wall. Scurrying back out, Moon gathered old leaves, needles, and twigs and covered the tracks their actions had left behind. She didn’t have time to do a flawless job but hoped that, from a distance, the ground would look undisturbed. Just as she sat back down next to Beaux, she saw something glimmer just beyond where the woman fell. A weapon. She jerked forward to reach for it, but then voices carried from above, sounding so close, her heart nearly jumped up into her mouth.
“He’s dead. Where’s the other one?” The voice was male and strangely soft. “There were two of them, and I could swear one of them was the captain.”
“You shot at the captain of the Empress? Are you insane?” another male voice said, sounding much gruffer and shocked. “I know you regard me as a dumb miner, but at least I’d be smart enough not to shoot the woman that’s going to get us off this rock and home.”
“Oh, please,” the soft voice said scornfully. “My bosses have contingency plans for everything. They expected this woman to be a problem sooner or later. For her crew to sabotage our drilling, for whatever misguided environmental reason, proved it was sooner.”
They thought the crew of the ship was behind Moon’s sabotage? Glancing at the pale face next to her, making sure the captain—and Moon didn’t doubt this woman was in charge—was breathing, she tried to tell herself she had no way of knowing the people in the camp would go to such extremes.
“She can be hiding in here.” Something rustled above. “What the hell? Where can she be?”
Some dirt fell, and Moon closed her eyes hard and placed one hand over Beaux’s mouth in case the captain suddenly came to. The other went over Dancer’s nose, and she could feel her friend tremble violently from restrained hostility.
“See anything down there?” the miner asked.
Moon nearly whimpered. Please, please, don’t see the weapon. The sidearm had slid half in under a bush, but if the sun’s rays shone through the foliage, it could refle
ct in its metal parts.
“No. She’d be crazy to jump, and I can’t see any sign of her falling.” The soft-spoken man grunted. “Damn it, she must have run back for reinforcements. We should get out of here before she brings some of those oafs she employs.”
“Just so you know, I’m not taking the blame for this when your superiors hear about the outcome,” the miner snarled. “I thought your bosses hated it when you guys went off script.”
“Mr. Drak will understand,” the other man said, but sounded less sure. “He’ll know I had Ilienta’s best interests at heart.”
“You keep telling yourself that.” The miner gave a joyless laughter, and then their footfalls grew increasingly quieter.
When Moon had sat still for a few minutes, listening intently while observing Dancer’s body language, as his hearing was so much better than hers, she finally dared to move. They had to get out of here, but looking at the pale captain, the blood still oozing from her temple, she knew she couldn’t leave her. She thought of pulling her out and placing her where her people would easily find her when they started looking for her and the man who was dead above them. Of course, she couldn’t do that. Too much could go wrong. A brummer could come by, or any of the other predators roaming these woods could show up. Or the ones thinking this woman was behind the sabotage might return and find her first. Damn. Tugging at her ponytail, Moon looked down at Dancer. “This is partly my fault, you know.” She sighed.
Dancer sat down and tilted his head. He looked at the captain and bent to sniff the blood on her face. He snorted and backed up some.
“I know. She’s bleeding too much. We have to take her with us.” Moon looked around. How the hell could she transport the woman to her shelter? She couldn’t risk making any obvious tracks on the ground. Thinking back to when they had learned emergency procedures on her last ship, though nobody had actually set that particular protocol in motion on that fateful day when they were attacked, she remembered how they had trained even the younger slaves how to carry passengers on their backs.