Asarlai Wars 1: Warrior Wench (31 page)

There was no way these bastards were getting this ship out of this system. She had no wish to die, but she knew enough of the Asarlaís history that being brought before them would be far worse than death.

Mac swore softly to himself as he tried to hack into the ship’s damaged system. He’d tied into the computer in Bathie’s room, linking it with his small command panel to pull up his makeshift locator. The screen lit up, then crashed.

“Damn it, I can’t get in, no matter what I do.”

“May I?” Flarik took the control panel in her clawed fingers. “I’ve found that sometimes if you do this.” Turning the panel around in her hand, she gave it a sharp rap on the edge of Bathie’s desk. An instant later a scratchy-looking but functional locator appeared on the screen. Flarik handed the machine back to Mac with a small smile.

“Why, Flarik, I never knew you were so tech savvy.” Vas shook her head, more at the looks of awe on the faces around her, than Flarik’s actions. Although she’d admit Flarik would probably be one of the last people she’d expect to do the ‘hit it until it works’ routine.

Maybe this crew was rubbing off on the Wavian lawyer as well.

“Aye, that worked. I can see the rest of the crew; they’re all in the brig.” Mac said.

Vas looked around the small room. They had ten people against forty or more insane religious zealots. Normally she’d say the odds were in their favor except for the whole religious madmen issue.

“We need to make a plan, get our people out, get our damn ship back, and track down the bastards behind this. We don’t need to know anything more about their plans except that we can’t let them open a hypergate. Under no circumstances can that happen.”

Vas studied the group before her. Mercenaries by nature were fighters, however they weren’t suicidal. This very well could turn into a suicide run and she needed to be sure they were aware of it. And willing to follow through if need be.

Flarik stepped forward, her collection of bladed weapons far less noticeable than the others. Then again, she carried her best weapons on her at all times. “I think I speak for all of us when I say we agree.”

Vas would like to think that Flarik’s grimace and the noticeable flexing of her clawed fingers didn’t make a difference in the responses of the others. Nevertheless, they did all nod in agreement very quickly.

Her plan was simple; they didn’t have enough people to be exotic. They broke up into two groups to stay hidden better and re-grouped at the brig.

That there was no interference in the corridors was not comforting. Yes, it was clear from the hologram that the pirates were under orders to bring in the crew alive. It sounded like the Asarlaís wanted someone on the ship, but they weren’t sure who.

Vas had a bad feeling in the pit of her gut that she knew who.

That bad feeling was reinforced when she did recon to get a better idea of who was guarding the brig.

The corridor leading up to the brig was empty. Again, a disturbing rather than comforting situation. Where in the hell was Bhotia’s crew?

Vas continued to creep forward, slowing even more when she saw four silent pirates outside of the brig double doors. Two men and two women, all were humanoid and looked Rillianian. Nevertheless, their blank stares as they faced forward were eerie.

All of them had blades, not blasters, and one of them….Vas let a swear word slip out before she bit her lip. One of them was her brother.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Vas slid back out of sight of the guards. Her brother. Here. Her
dead
brother.

How in the hell could someone who died years ago with the rest of her unlamented family be standing in front of her brig?

Sure that she was imagining it, Vas took a small mirror she’d grabbed along with her weapons and held it so it would view the brig doors.

Her palms grew so sweaty she had to pull the mirror back to her before she dropped it.

It was Borlan. He was older, a lot older. She’d only gone back home once after she ran away. A quick and painful visit that confirmed what she’d always felt: she had no family. But he looked just like their father. Thick red hair cut in a severe paramilitary style, sharp blue eyes, and the unmistakable Tor Dain chin.

If there was ever a time Vas needed Deven, this was it. She didn’t know how Borlan survived the supposed destruction of their home continent, nor why he was here with Rillianian scum. And she had no idea how to deal with it.

“Captain,” Flarik spoke from beside her. That Vas hadn’t even noticed her approach wasn’t a good thing. “You’ve not moved for over five minutes. Is there something wrong?”

“I….” Vas’s mind froze. The worst thing was, there was no love lost between her and Borlan, never had been. Fifteen years older than her, he was the one who was watching her as a child while their parents worked. Protecting her when the band of telepaths kidnapped her and kept her hidden in the desert. She later realized that it hadn’t been an accident that she’d been taken under his watch.

“Oh fuck it all to hell.” Vas kept her voice low as the implications started rolling in her brain. “Flarik, I can’t explain it right now, but that red-haired son of a bitch out there is my brother. I need you to kill him first.”

Flarik pulled back as if struck. A slight hiss escaped through her teeth. “Your hatch-mate? I thought you had none?”

“This isn’t the time for it, but I didn’t. He and my whole damn family died fifteen years ago—or so I thought. He’s connected to the Rillianians, and may have been back when I was a child.” Which could mean he had insight into what had been done to her. Vas took a few seconds to weigh keeping him alive to get information about her past. Her true past. The one Deven hinted about being hidden under some block in her psyche. Nevertheless, the danger her brother was to her and her crew while alive was bigger than that. “He needs to die, and he needs to be killed before I can do anything else. I’m not sure I can face him.” That was possibly the hardest sentence Vas had ever uttered, but it was true.

Flarik studied her carefully, reading nuances in Vas’s face and bearing that only a Wavian would understand. Finally, she nodded. “Agreed. If he has your fighting skill, and has been working with the Rillianians, he is too dangerous to live.”

Vas motioned for the rest of her crew to come forward. They had to take the guards out quick.

“Do you want a blaster?” Vas held hers out, but wasn’t surprised when Flarik frowned at it.

“No. A family member should be dealt with the correct way. The old way.” She nodded toward the brig corridor. “However, if you wish to shoot the others as I kill the traitor, please feel welcome.”

With that Flarik raced into the corridor, her movements too fast to be clearly seen.

Vas rounded into the corridor a few feet ahead of the rest of her crew, her blaster firing to take out the closest guard.

Nothing happened.

Bhotia had activated a dampener of some type on the ship. It was a good thing her crew had edged weapons as well as blasters.

“Swords out! Blasters won’t work,” Vas yelled to her crew as she threw away her useless firearm and charged the three guards.

Flarik knocked Borlan down and was using her claws against his sword. In close quarters the claws would win, but Borlan was far more skilled than Vas recalled.

The other guards were almost to Flarik when Vas hit them. She’d leapt over Flarik and Borlan to knock two of the guards to the ground. The pain from her wounds ripped through her, but she still took them down.

By the time she turned, Mac and the triplets had killed the other two guards. Surprisingly, Flarik was still fighting with Borlan.

Flarik wasn’t losing by any means. Borlan was dead; it just hadn’t reached his brain yet.

But there was still enough of him left alive to recognize Vas. Hatred filled his ravaged face.

“Bitch. You were supposed to have died. I betrayed my gods to make sure you died. You—”

The rest of his words ended in a gurgle as Flarik’s claws ripped out his throat.

“Captain?” Mac looked between Flarik rising to her feet, Borlan’s bloody body, and Vas. “Did he know you?”

Pela smacked him in the back of his head. “He was her kin. Can’t you see that?”

Actually considering the damage Flarik had caused, Vas was surprised that even someone like Pela could tell. But she nodded slowly.

“We don’t have time for that now. There will be guards on the inside as well, and we should assume they probably know we’re here. But aside from that one,” she kicked toward Borlan, “these didn’t seem to be trying to kill us. Hell, they weren’t even very good at defending themselves. We can work on the assumption that the rest of the pirates are under the same orders.” She chanced a glance at Borlan, and a shudder went through her. He had been good once, or so she thought. She’d idolized him until he hadn’t saved her from the telepaths. She waved the others on. His secrets died with him.

“I think I can crack the doors.” Mac waved his modified command panel. “But you’re not going to like it.”

“Mac, I need those doors open. I don’t care what you need to do.”

“Seriously?” Mac glanced around at the crew surrounding them. “I have witnesses.”

Vas folded her arms. “Yes, whatever you need to do, just get these doors open before the people inside call for reinforcements.”

Mac shrugged then ran some wires into the door lock and through his command panel.

An instant later, the double doors slid open.

And so did every door in the corridor.

“What the hell? Mac, what did you do?”

“What you said. I opened the door. Actually, all of the interior doors on the entire ship. And no, I have no idea how to close them again. The system kinda shorted itself out.”

“Kinda?”

“Well, that was actually my plan. Shorting them out caused them to go into emergency mode…and you don’t really care, do you?”

Vas let out a long sigh. “Not really.” The problem of all of the doors being stuck open would be dealt with once they got their damn ship back. Even if Mac had to re-set each one individually.

It had only been a few seconds since he sprung the doors, but Vas was still surprised when no guards jumped in their face.

“You two, with me. Rest of you hold back.” Vas pointed to Flarik and Mac as she pulled out both swords and crept into the brig’s main room.

The room was empty, but meals and drinks were scattered about as if left in a hurry. Vas silently motioned everyone forward.

Yelling was heard down the cell corridor. And the unmistakable sound of sword on sword told her fighting had started. Vas broke into a run. She’d counted on the orders to bring in her crew alive to keep everyone safe. Had Borlan not been the only one who ignored that?

She skid to a halt as she finally saw the combatants, or what was left of them. Gon was pushing the last guard off his sword.

“How did you get out?” Vas asked as she counted noses. Most all of them were roughed up to some degree, but it appeared that everyone was there.

“I have no idea,” Gosta said. “The guards were getting weapons out when all of a sudden, the brig doors opened.”

Vas spun toward Mac. “You even opened the
brig
?” Maybe she found someone to apprentice under Gosta and his hacking skills. “Never mind. They’re out and the guards are dead.”

“Thank the stars you’re all alive. We feared the worst,” Terel said as she saw the people with Vas, then she frowned. “You shouldn’t be out of bed.”

“Good to see you too, Doctor.” Vas engulfed her friend in a hug then pulled back with a wince. “If something happens to me, ask Mac to tell you what I told him.” When Terel started to interrupt, she shook her off. “Not here, not now. Once we get our ship back.” She turned to her crew and saw they were busy arming themselves with as many edged weapons as could be found.

“We’ve been boarded by a band of Graylian monks with Rillianians along for good measure. And they’re Asarlaí worshippers. They are trying to keep us alive to get us through a hypergate to their Asarlaí masters. I think that’s why there’s a dampening field of some sort blocking the blasters. That’s an advantage for us: we don’t want them alive.” Vas spoke to Terel but her eyes were on Flarik.

Flarik nodded to the crowd. “I recommend that everyone here let me kill as many as I can to allow me to work the anger out of my system.” Her bright eyes hit everyone in the room.

Vas shrugged. She didn’t care who did the killing as long as those bastards died. “Agreed. However, it would be best if we can take Bhotia alive. I need more answers. Under no circumstances can we let this ship get through a hypergate. We must destroy the ship before that happens. They will torture all of us.”

Once the rest of the crew were armed with swords, knives, and daggers she sent strike teams throughout the ship. Unlike the pirates, she took no chances. Ten members of her crew she kept with herself. They marched down the primary corridors to the command deck. They met little resistance since the few fighters they found couldn’t hold against trained mercs.

Which was another disturbing thought that Vas filed away for later: why send in troops that couldn’t hold their own with the weapons they were forced to use? More than once she’d seen a pirate reach for a blaster that wasn’t there. Unfortunately, none of them stayed alive long enough for her to ask. At first she just thought they were horrific fighters, and then she realized they were poisoning themselves with some sort of capsule embedded inside their cheek, as they were overwhelmed. She recognized the distinctive bite, grimace, and crumble to the ground maneuver from other campaigns.

“Terel, stay back and pull some of these bodies aside for examination. I want to know what they’re killing themselves with as soon as possible.” Neither she nor any of her crew were showing signs of ill effects, but there were suicide drugs that could take the offensive once they’d done their original job. Better to be safe than sorry.

Terel nodded, and Pela went to find contamination suits. Vas grabbed Terel before she followed. “There’s another body I need you to look at.”

Terel nodded. “The man who looks like you that’s in a pile near the brig doors? I already planned to unless you gave me express orders to leave him alone.” The look on her narrow face indicated that she dearly wanted to know who the body was.

“He’s a relative I didn’t know was alive. But I have a lot of questions about him.”

Terel nodded. “Understood. I’ll keep Gosta back with me to help with the poisoned bodies. Be careful up there, Vas. They aren’t playing a war you’re used to.”

Vas shook her head. “Tell me about it.”

After catching up to the rest of her people, she crouched next to Flarik. “Anyone between us and the bridge?”

“Nothing.” Flarik’s eyes narrowed. “This is most unusual, Captain. They must know we are out here by now.”

Vas peered down the empty corridors that led to the command deck. “Actually, they may not. Mac said Gosta destroyed the ship’s communication systems, all of them. When the main comms go down they cause havoc with personal comm systems as well. We can’t talk to our people, but they can’t talk to their people either.”

“That is probably true, although their tactics in such a case are inferior. We shall destroy them without complication.”

Vas hid her grin behind her hand. Flarik was so matter of fact. There was simply no way in her worldview that inferiors could get the best of her. Having seen enough lag-rats take down prey fifty times their size on her home world, Vas didn’t share the sentiment.

“Let’s just be prepared for the worst, shall we? We have no idea how close Bhotia is to a gate.”

Flarik nodded, then motioned that she would take half the fighters to the other side of the command deck.

Vas waited until she figured Flarik would be in place, and then stormed the deck. There was no way to sneak onto the command deck, and one glance at a nearby screen told her they were out of time. They were approaching a hypergate. The warnings flashing on the main screen told her the codes weren’t in yet, but Bhotia was minutes away from taking her ship and crew to hell.

Bhotia had taken over her command chair, but appeared calm as his people rushed forward to defend him. Gon was almost to the pirate nearest Bhotia. Vas wasn’t sure how the big man had outsprinted the rest of the crew, but he somehow had. Bhotia ignored his own man then tilted his head and gazed steadily at Gon.

“You cannot stop the march of our Gods.” Gon’s feet no longer moved and he crashed to the decking. His face contorted in pain as his body slowly froze from the feet up. His breathing became ragged and harsh.