Enemy Games (5 page)

For a moment, she wondered whether she hindered or helped, then the panel beneath her hands lit. She couldn’t read the controls, but the permutations of one ship shooting at another had, over time, been rendered as simple as possible. No one wanted to have to think in the middle of a firefight.

“Controls in the middle of the panel,” Damen said.

“Yes. Weapons dark, targeting above,” she said.

He slanted her a narrow-eyed glance. “I see I’m going to have to have a much closer look at the
Sen Ekir
dossier. You’re the second ‘scientist’ from that unarmed ship to know too damned much about Claugh weapons.”

“Skillfully manipulated data can be made to obscure as much truth as it reveals,” she said. “Ykktyryk cruiser targeted. Range, forty seconds.”

With a mercenary after the
Sen Ekir
, she’d believed the tension couldn’t rise any higher. She’d been wrong. It crawled up her spine and wrapped a stranglehold around her neck. She glanced at Damen.

“You’re quoting Omorle Lin?” The brush of Damen’s velvet tone sent her senses into high alert. Of course. He was the Claugh nib Dovvyth’s best computer tech. He would know about TFC’s prized computer expert, had likely studied the man’s technique.

Did he know that she’d adored Omorle Lin with the whole of her fourteen-year-old heart from the moment she’d met him? Memories of her last seconds with the first man she’d loved burst through her head. Remembered torment clasped a tightening band around her chest and blinded her for a moment.

“Whoa!” V’kyrri exclaimed, slamming upright in his chair. He turned and peered at her. “Jayleia, what the Three Hells? Are you . . .”

Damned telepath
. This was undoubtedly why Damen had included V’kyrri on his mission. To extract information by any means possible. Jayleia shoved away pain. Nothing would erase the vision of Omorle’s wide-open, dead eyes from her memory, or change the fact that as he’d breathed his last, he’d whispered not her name but the name of the love of his life.

She couldn’t hide that kind of emotional memory from a telepath, not even one distracted by racing to the
Sen Ekir
’s rescue.

She’d have to misdirect him, and Damen, who, she noted, watched her far too closely. She was glad she’d moved across the tiny cockpit from him. Maybe he’d have a harder time reading her face while V’kyrri tried to read her mind.

“I knew Lin,” she ground out between clenched teeth, enraged by her lack of control and at the two men for intruding into something as painful and intensely private as she wished her childhood crush to remain. “I sat with him, holding his hand as he died. Could we please focus on saving my remaining friends and family?”

Damen blew out an audible breath and spun back to his panel.

“Sorry,” V’k said. “I didn’t mean . . . That was overwhelming.”

Yes. It was. From V’kyrri’s clipped words and from the speculation she caught on Damen’s face, she knew they weren’t going to let it rest. She blinked, cooling the heat gathering in her eyes, and struggled to draw a breath that didn’t catch.

The targeting controls under her fingers buzzed. Brilliant scarlet flared beneath the buttons. She had to clear her throat to force out words.

“I have a lock on the cruiser,” she said. “Permission to fire?”

“Status on the other three ships,” Damen demanded of V’kyrri.

“Two on approach,” V’k replied. “No threat until we leave atmosphere. The Erillian is hanging back.”

She frowned. “They must have a live capture contract for me and know I’m on board.”

“Agreed,” Damen said. “Permission to fire, granted. Middle of the panel. Lasers left, missiles right.”

“What’s the center fire control?”

“Sonic pulse.”

A sound weapon for use against a species whose primary sense was auditory. The Chekydran. Jayleia nodded.

“Missiles incoming,” V’kyrri announced as sensors and alarms went hot simultaneously. “We have the Ykktyryk’s attention.”

“Deploy countermeasures!” Damen ordered, throwing the ship sideways in a move that felt like they’d slid off a cliff.

“Where’s the control?” Jay yelled.

V’kyrri reached over and hit a flashing amber button in the top left-hand corner of her panel. “It’s away!”

“Thanks,” she said. “Acquiring target. Locked. Firing lasers.”

“Single hit,” V’k reported. “Punched through the shield and scorched their hull plate. Get us closer, Sindrivik. We’ll drop a load of missiles on their heads.”

“Their exhaust,” she corrected, glancing at the view screen. The mercenary ship loomed before them, a big, hulking craft, steadily gaining on the
Sen Ekir
. “Isn’t that right? Ykktyryk ships don’t shield exhaust ports.”

“They prefer speed to protection,” Damen said.

He was nodding when she glanced over her shoulder at him. His expression, when he looked back, said she was defying known parameters.

“Something your father told you?”

“Ari.”

His face lit with a surprised smile before an explosion rattled their ship. Metal creaked and the plates beneath her feet jumped.

“Countermeasures took out two missiles,” V’kyrri said. “One left. We’re positioned to take it in the teeth.”

“Shields,” Damen ordered, pushing the ship into another dive through Chemmoxin’s pale sky.

“Got ’em,” V’k replied. “We’re good.”

She watched Damen. He worked his console like a master musician playing a polytonal Taggite organ, minus a Taggite’s two extra arms. Concentration put creases in his forehead and at the corner of the one eye she could see. A tick in the fine muscles of his jaw provided evidence of worry.

Jayleia threw another barrage of laser fire at the mercenary, hardly waiting for the targeting indicators to flash red.

The missile impacted their shields and detonated, not on the nose, as V’kyrri had predicted, but amidships, right behind the door where she’d boarded. The impact flung them off course. Lights flashed on the cockpit consoles, bleating and chirping messages she couldn’t hope to understand.

“Hull integrity intact. Shields holding. Oh, nice shot!” V’kyrri hollered, punching controls that seemed to help Damen wrestle them into position for another try at the big cruiser.

She looked at the view screen. Their ship spun and swung, flashing the merc ship in and out of the field of view. Blue smoke streamed behind the vessel.

The mercenary fired on the
Sen Ekir
. The science ship rocked, but their shields deflected the weapon’s energy.

Giving the mercenary no time for another shot, Jayleia fired the lasers again, followed immediately by an array of missiles.

“That’s right,” Damen muttered when the big vessel canted their way. “Leave the unarmed craft alone.”

“Broadcast another message,” V’kyrri suggested. “Make it plain she’s aboard. The Ykktyryk came in after the first message to the
Sen Ekir
.”

“We’ve proven that we’ll rise to the
Sen Ekir
’s defense,” Jay said. “They’ll use it as a lure.”

Both men swore.

Laser fire sliced through their shields. They shuddered, momentum stalling, and rolled. Alarms tried to wail, then sputtered and died. The lights failed. The atmospheric engine choked and the nose pitched toward the steaming jungles below.

“Spawn of a Myallki bitch,” Damen swore. “Where’d they get the power for that shot?”

“Restart!” V’kyrri demanded, unbuckling his restraints.

Damen punched in a rapid-fire command. Nothing happened. “No go!”

V’k threw himself out of his chair and down the companionway. She heard the bang of engine access panels opening as he went.

“Found it! Ten seconds!”

“Why aren’t they finishing us?” she muttered, turning back to the view screen. “They’ve got us dead to rights.”

“You nailed them,” Damen answered, approval in his voice. He flashed her a brief grin when she glanced at him. He fought his controls, muscles standing out in his arms and shoulders as he struggled to keep the ship airborne. Sweat beaded his temple and trickled down one side of his face. “I got you a shot at their tailpipes and you shoved those missiles straight up their . . .”

“Online!” V’kyrri shouted.

“Get up here!” Damen yelled, punching in the sequence for what she assumed would be a hot start on his atmospheric.

The engine roared to life, pitching the ship in an arc into the atmosphere. Jay heard V’kyrri cursing as he crashed to the deck plating.

“You should have kidnapped Raj if you’d planned on breaking bones,” she called down the companionway.

Damen chuckled.

Jayleia’s heart warmed at the sound.

“I specifically requested a comedienne,” V’k retorted as he limped into the cockpit and took his seat. “Is the
Sen Ekir
safe?”

“They’re clear. Transitioning to star drive,” Damen said, studying his panels. “And they’re away.”

Part of her relaxed in response to the relief in Damen’s tone. She hadn’t gotten the people she cared about killed. When it came to the
Sen Ekir
, at least, it appeared she and her kidnappers were aligned.

She eyed the two men as they worked. They weren’t allies, but neither were they enemies, per se. How far could she trust them?

“Why didn’t the Erillian make a move while we were disabled?” Damen muttered.

She looked at the screen. Damen had them pointed right at the sleek ship, engine wide open. The blue sky boundary beckoned a few kilometers past the Erillian.

Uneasiness wormed through her chest.

“Does anyone else think playing midair collision games with a known mercenary is a bad idea?” she asked.

“They won’t fire on us,” Damen said. “Not when they know you’re aboard.”

“They have tow capability.”

“They’d have to disable our engine,” he protested.

“Which has already happened once.”

“And they didn’t lock us down when it did,” he countered. “They can’t risk killing you.”

“No! They can’t risk
catching
me. I am not their objective any more than I’m yours. They want my father. They will fire! It’ll be to cripple, so that we’ll have to declare an emergency and make a run!”

“How could they know we wouldn’t run you and them straight to the
Dagger
?” V’kyrri demanded.

“They don’t,” she replied. “They only have to watch for what happens after you do. Everyone knows that when Admiral Seaghdh interrogates someone, he gets the answers he wants. They’re counting on you to do the hard work of finding my father so they can steal him from you once you do.”

Damen bit out a curse, his tone grim. “Then they don’t get to follow us. Shut down the shields.”

He was disabling the defenses? Jayleia boggled. “What?”

“Done,” V’kyrri answered.

She glanced between the ruthless expressions on their faces and shuddered. “Look. I’d rather you didn’t hand me over to them. The captain of that Erillian Aggressor is messed up. You guys may be kidnapping me, but at least you’re sane.”

Damen flashed her a feral grin, his gray eyes glittering. “Do you have enough data to support that analysis?”

Her breath stopped in her chest and heat suffused her from head to toe.

He turned away. “They’re hailing.”

“I’ve got your answer,” V’kyrri replied. “Go.”

Her console pinged. She glanced sideways at it and guessed at the significance of the flashing indicators. “They’ve established a target lock!”

The subtlest vibration beneath her feet warned her that another engine had fired. It shrieked to life. She clapped her hands over her ears. It didn’t help. Damen’s spy ship leaped for the stars. They screamed over the top of the Erillian Aggressor, so close that every muscle in her body clenched in anticipation of collision. As if it would have made any difference.

“Shields!” Damen yelled.

V’kyrri slammed a control.

Staggering g-forces crushed her to her seat as the ship lurched. She may have blacked out. Pain seared her chest. Her muscles couldn’t overcome the stress of gravity weighing on them. She couldn’t breathe.

Then she could. Air slid noisily into her burning lungs. It took a moment to realize Damen and V’kyrri had fared little better. She heard them gasping. Slowly, she realized her eyes weren’t malfunctioning. They’d left Chemmoxin’s atmosphere. Black space, relieved only by distant stars, filled the view screen.

“What the Three Hells was that?” she demanded between gulps of air.

“Data to contradict your sanity assertion,” Damen replied.

It irked her that he’d recovered much faster than she.

“You bounced us off their shields?” Jayleia demanded, trembling from a belated flood of epinephrine.

“I blew their defense generator when I did,” Damen said.

“Twelve Gods,” she muttered. “Isn’t that move illegal because it’s easier to get yourself blown up than to disable an enemy ship?”

“Yes, it is.”

“I thought you needed me alive. My mistake.”

“I’d begin an interrogation, but I can see it wasn’t that effective a scare tactic.” Damen tossed a sly grin over his shoulder at her.

Her heart clenched at the caress of his approving gaze. “Never do it again.”

He chuckled.

The contagious sound flushed liquid warmth through her body and she found herself smiling in response. She straightened, wiping the uninvited expression from her face. New aches and assorted bruises rushed to be counted.

They were alive. The
Sen Ekir
was out of harm’s way. She sighed and rubbed her face with her hands.

“All right,” she said. “Before I can betray my father and my people, I need information.”