Love you too
, he responded silently, sarcastically.
Alisa waited until the very end to close the cockpit, giving the tunnel one last look.
Instead of Leonidas, she got an explosion. This one made the earlier ones seem like gum popping in comparison. Their little ship was lifted from the deck, the cockpit nearly crunching into the ceiling.
Get us out of here
, Abelardus ordered.
That’s just the start of it.
Even though he was speaking into her mind, she could barely process the words with the roar of the explosion pummeling her eardrums.
She activated the ancient ship’s old thrusters. They sputtered several times, and the display on the control panel winked out. If she hadn’t been afraid of dying, she would have laughed. That Abelardus had planned all of this based on escaping in some decrepit ship that hadn’t flown in centuries…
He thumped his fist on the top of the control panel. The dashboard lit up again. The thrusters sputtered a few more times, then ignited.
“The door?” Alisa asked, spinning the craft in the direction she assumed was the way out. The dark wall looked like all the others.
“Working on it.” He closed his eyes and bowed his chin to his chest.
A circle in the wall gradually grew less solid, the stars appearing through it. Several seconds passed, and that portion of the hull disappeared altogether. The exit was tiny compared to the large doors they’d entered through in the other bay. Only this tiny ship could come and go this way. Alisa wondered if it had long ago delivered that sarcophagus.
Go, go
, Abelardus ordered.
Even though they were in the air, she could see the walls vibrating as more explosions went off. A chain reaction. Or maybe each of those robots was blowing up, one after the other. Something snapped overhead, and a piece of the ceiling thumped down onto the cockpit.
Alisa flinched but took them toward the exit. She couldn’t delay any longer. Still, she found a rearview mirror—this thing didn’t have anything so fancy as cameras—and watched the tunnel as they flew toward the exit.
Rocks were tumbling down, pulverized particles mingling in the air with the dust. Reluctantly, she admitted that Leonidas wasn’t coming, that if he made it off at all, he would be in the hands of the Alliance soldiers.
Then, as the nose of her ship eased out into space, a red figure burst through that dust. He sprinted across the tiny landing area, his legs a blur.
Alisa reached for the thrusters, intending to reverse them, to wait for him.
Abelardus caught her wrist. “Don’t. The rest of the ceiling could come down at any second.”
She fought against him, trying to elbow him, but he kept her from reaching the thruster controls. Their ship continued out into space.
Leonidas made it to the door as they glided away. Alisa thought he would stop, trapped, and she struggled harder, throwing a punch at Abelardus. It connected solidly against the chest of his suit, but there was no power behind it, not when he had her right hand. He did not let go.
It did not matter. Leonidas leaped away from the exit and out into space.
The ship hadn’t yet picked up speed, and he sprang away at a greater velocity than they were going. He landed on the rear of the craft with a clunk, finding a place to hang on between the thrusters.
Alisa grinned so broadly that her mouth hurt.
Abelardus groaned and let go of her so he could drop his faceplate into his hand.
“What in the hells was that?” Beck asked. He and the others, squished into the rear compartment, could not see behind them.
“Our other passenger,” Alisa said.
The ship did not have an autopilot, at least that she could see, so she manually turned them away from the station and in the direction of the
Nomad
. As they flew away from the hull, the shuttle came into view. Several soldiers were floating away from the station and to their craft. Some were carrying others. The dead? The unconscious? She couldn’t tell, but she prayed Tomich had made it.
She flew slowly because she did not want to risk dislodging Leonidas. It wasn’t as if it mattered. A hulking warship hovered over the
Nomad
, dwarfing her freighter with its imposing bulk. She realized they had nowhere safe to go.
“I don’t suppose this ship has interplanetary flight capabilities,” Beck said from the rear.
Alisa shook her head. “It’s a short-range craft, and its fuel…” She checked the gauge. “It’s only at a quarter.” Not to mention that she could not take them on a days-long trip with Leonidas hanging off the back.
“Shit,” Beck said, his eyes locking on that warship.
“We should be happy there were any ships to get away in at all,” Alisa said.
“But it’s not going to matter, is it?”
“I don’t know.” Alisa looked at Abelardus. He had certainly thought they could escape this way. “Want to tell us if you can do anything special with that staff?”
She didn’t want to contemplate him attacking the warship—or blowing it up the way Alcyone had blown up a planet—but maybe the big stick had other powers. After all, it was called a Staff of Lore. He’d implied it had other uses and wasn’t only a super powerful weapon.
“Hand it up here, Alejandro,” Abelardus said. “I’ll see if we have any options.”
“We can’t go back to the freighter, regardless,” Alejandro said as he pushed the end of the staff toward Abelardus. “This ship and all of us are drenched in radioactive particles, and the
Star Nomad
has no decontamination system.”
Alisa cursed. How could she have forgotten?
“Then we
have
to go back to the medical shuttle, don’t we?” she asked.
“The warship may have facilities to handle us,” Yumi said.
“Oh, I’m sure it does. It can give us a nice decon shower before we’re shoved into the brig.”
Alisa glowered at the hulking ship dwarfing her poor freighter. There was no point in flying that way. She changed direction, steering them back toward the shuttle, not that she expected to be safe there. After they had abandoned the soldiers, she wouldn’t be surprised if they opened fire on her newly acquired ship. Especially if Tomich hadn’t made it out.
She tapped on the comm in her spacesuit. “Leonidas? Can you hear me?”
“Of course,” came the dry reply.
“How’s your flight? Need me to send someone back with cocktails? Snacks?”
The sigh that whispered over the comm sounded pain-filled. She grimaced—she hadn’t even thought to ask him if he had suffered any injuries.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“Well enough for now, but I hope you’re going to take us someplace slightly more comfortable soon.”
“Uh, we’re still trying to figure out where comfort might be found out here. Is there a chance—Abelardus said you were carrying some of the soldiers to safety. Any chance they’re feeling grateful thoughts toward you?” The question seemed even more pertinent as their route took them closer to the shuttle. Even though it was a medical craft, it did have a few weapons, and Alisa had no idea where the shields were on this unfamiliar ship—or if it even had any.
“I don’t know. It was chaotic, and the two men I picked up were unconscious.”
“When you were running out, did you by chance see if Tomich made it out?”
A crackle of static sounded on the comm.
“I’m here, Marchenko,” Tomich said.
They must have flown back into range of the rest of the soldiers. Alisa supposed that would make communication easier, but she would have preferred to continue her conversation with Leonidas in private.
“Are you coming to surrender to us?” Tomich added, his voice also a touch dry, but he sounded like he was in pain too. The outside of the station remained intact, the wheel still spinning around the axis, but Alisa could imagine the interior in shambles, men perhaps trapped under rubble for all eternity.
“Do you
want
us to surrender to you, or are you just after the staff?” Alisa looked at Abelardus. He had pulled the staff into his lap and had his hands wrapped around it, his eyes closed. She muted her helmet comm and asked, “Wasn’t that glowing before?”
She distinctly remembered seeing illuminated runes and bright yellow coming from the orb on top. Now, the whole thing was dark and did not appear much more impressive than the staff they had fished out of the rubble pile.
“It gradually got dimmer as we moved farther away from the tomb,” Alejandro said.
“Can’t Abelardus make it light up?” Mica asked.
One of Abelardus’s eyes opened, and he gave everyone a baleful look. Alisa decided that his bonding with it must not be going well. A part of her was pleased since she did not want him to have a super weapon, but another part of her acknowledged that it would have been handy if the staff had the power to help them escape.
“Admiral Moreau doesn’t care about you or your freighter,” Tomich said—he must have paused to contact his commanding officer. “He would like Colonel Adler. And the staff, of course.”
Alisa un-muted her comm. “Colonel Adler isn’t available.”
“No? He looks uncomfortable hanging on the back of that relic of a ship. Are you sure he wouldn’t prefer being inside somewhere?”
“Not if it means getting a private brig cell.”
“I see. And is the staff available?” Tomich asked.
Alisa was surprised he didn’t simply tell them they were being captured, cyborg and staff included, and that was the end of the debate. Did he think they had some power now that her team had acquired it? If so, maybe she could bluff, and maybe her bluffing would work better on Tomich than it had on that android.
“Our Starseer is rubbing it lovingly, right now,” Alisa said. “You might have to discuss its availability with him. It’s glowing happily and seems excited to see him.”
“I have orders to keep it from falling into imperial hands,” Tomich said grimly. “No matter what it takes.”
“Our Starseer isn’t imperial. He says he has Alliance leanings. Look, Tomich, I don’t want the empire to get it, either. I didn’t fight for four years so they could get a super weapon and take over the system again.” She could feel Alejandro’s eyes boring into the back of her head, but she did not look back.
“I’m glad to hear it,” Tomich said. “I’ve been wondering, given your latest… antics.”
“Antics? Someone clearly wants a staff shoved somewhere uncomfortable.”
“So long as I can carry it to my superiors that way,” Tomich said. “Why don’t you board, and we’ll discuss everything over a nice decon shower? I assume your freighter isn’t properly outfitted to deal with your contamination.”
As if they could fly over there and climb aboard the
Nomad
with that warship looming above it.
“Since you asked so nicely,” Alisa said, “we will join you, but no tricks this time, Tomich. I’m sure your soldiers aren’t in the mood for another battle.”
“No, they’re not, but Alisa? You can’t escape. Please be prepared to hand over the staff.”
She turned off the comm without replying. “Mica? Still got the spare staff back there?”
“Yes. Yumi and I have cleaned it off and made it look as shiny as possible.”
“All right. We’ll take that one with us and try to convince them it’s the powerful one. Abelardus, can you make it glow interestingly?”
He flicked a dismissive hand, and silver light flared in the rear compartment. A clunk sounded as Mica dropped the staff. The runes engraved in the side now glowed with impressive light.
“How come you can turn that one on and not that one?” Alisa pointed to Alcyone’s staff. It still lay dark in his lap.
“I prefer not to discuss my shortcomings at this time,” Abelardus said, glaring at her.
Startled by his snapping, Alisa almost reacted by pointing out just how many shortcomings he had and how it was impossible to avoid discussing them. Instead, she lifted her hands in apology. They did not need to fight now. They needed to figure out how to keep from becoming prisoners.
“If we leave that staff here and all spacewalk over to the shuttle,” she said, musing aloud, “what are the odds that they won’t search this ship? That their little armada will leave the area and we can sneak in later and retrieve it?”
“The odds are zilch,” Alejandro said. “Remember the piles of rubble? Tomich said it himself, that the Alliance could use those valuables. And this ship would be considered an artifact itself. They’ll take it into one of their hangars, and we’ll never see the staff again.”
“You’re probably right. Then, we’ll have to take it aboard with us and hide it. Which one of you tall gentlemen thinks he can hide a six-foot staff in his trousers?”
“I do that already,” Beck said. “Give it to me.”
Mica groaned and elbowed him.
“What? Tell me that wasn’t the appropriate answer for that line.”
Alisa would have glared back at him, but they were close enough to the medical shuttle that she could see people moving around through the portholes. There wasn’t time left to fritter around.
“We’ll have to try to hide it in the shuttle itself,” she said. “Maybe in the airlock hatch? If we can figure a way to get them to take us back to our ship after we’ve deconned, we’ll go out that way again. Anyone have some glue? Mica?”
“You can’t
glue
a centuries-old relic to the wall,” Alejandro said.
“I was thinking of the ceiling. Right up in a crease where it might escape notice.”
“I have some tape,” Mica said. “It’ll have to be thrown away anyway. Everything is contaminated.”
“So long as we’re not throwing away my staff,” Alejandro grumbled. “That’s not porous. I’m sure we can decontaminate it.”
Alejandro seemed quite certain he was going to get to take this staff when and if they could escape the Alliance. Abelardus might be thinking the same thing. And the entire Alliance thought it was about to get it too. Maybe she ought to toss it out a porthole and let whoever could get to it first have it.
“Give that to Mica, please,” Alisa said, leaning over to grab the staff since Abelardus was still holding it, his face locked in concentration.