Inherit the Stars (12 page)

“I wasn't positive she was a Savant. It doesn't make sense. Why would Dunaar hire her, then hire me, but now the Sarrhdtuu want her?” Sar paused. Dunaar must have known about Kivita's Savant talent. The bloated pig also knew Kivita might sell the Juxj Star to the highest bidder. So Dunaar had hired him to . . . what? Secure the Juxj Star?

“She angers me with all the pain she has callously brought upon you.” Cheseia hugged him tighter.

“Stop. Kiv's been hurt by me.”

Cheseia released him and looked away.

“Will you listen? Everybody wants Kiv now. It has something to do with that signal Seul mentioned.”

“You should have gone directly straight to Navon—not here,” Cheseia said.

Since she was still a Thede recruit, Cheseia lacked the coordinates to the Thede rendezvous point; it was a security issue. Perhaps he should've heeded her advice after all.

Sar leaned so close his lips brushed her ear. “I've seen things in my mind every time Kiv's touched me since leaving Vstrunn. Stars, images of a cryogenic ship, coordinates to places I've never been. Never heard of anybody able to do that, not even Thede Savants.”

Her furred hands dug into his envirosuit. “Then the Rector certainly will buy her from Shekelor.”

“I think—”

A chattering wail echoed from a speaker in the corridor outside.

“An alarm,” Cheseia said.

“We're under attack!” a muffled voice yelled outside.

Kivita and Seul paused before a doorway leading outside the fortress. With most pirates in the drinking hall, they'd passed only a few on guard duty. Every second spent in Orstaav's armor set Kivita's nerves further on edge.

“Are you sure this is the correct path?” Seul put her helmet on.

“I saw his ship from above. Something that big must be in the next courtyard.” Kivita double-checked her own helmet and opened the pressurized door.

The pirates outside the turret exit stepped aside for Kivita. Seul trailed behind her, face impassive, though the cut on her arm still bled. Wind scattered dust over them as Umiracan's chill leeched through Kivita's polysuit. Sure enough, through the doorway, Shekelor's ship waited.

Two more pirates inside the courtyard barred their path.

“Ya gotta wait, Orstaav,” one heavyset pirate said. “Shekelor said he'd be along in a few minutes.”

“Thought you was supposed to be toting that plumb cute redhead with you?” He fingered his holstered pistol. “And who the hell is this bleeding Aldaakian?”

Kivita had no way of imitating Orstaav's voice, and she doubted a simple shrug would answer their curiosity.

An alarm blared. The pirates' faces hardened as one reached for his pistol.

Seul gasped and staggered toward the two pirates. While both focused on the Aldaakian, Kivita drew the kinetic pistol. The heavyset man turned as she squeezed the trigger. The shot ripped through his polycuirass, and his eyes glazed over. The report echoed throughout the courtyard.

Kivita aimed at the second pirate. “You have a choice. Give me the code to this ship's keypad and you won't end up like your buddy here.”

The man held up his hands. “I plumb fucking don't know it! Shekelor, uh . . . nobody knows that code but him.”

Seul stared at the man. “I don't think he's lying.”

A voice called from the stairs behind them. The pirate punched Seul's wounded arm and fled up the steps. Seul stumbled into Kivita, cradling her arm.

“Damn. You all right?” Kivita ushered Seul toward the ship.

“Only if we break that code,” Seul said through gritted teeth. Fresh blood flowed from the crack in her vambrace.

The ship before them measured more than four hundred feet in length. A K-gun placement on each side and cracked hull armor testified to many rough encounters. Kivita and Seul ducked under the forward landing pylon as pirates shouted into the courtyard. A square keypad, covered with a hinged armor plate, waited beside the entrance ramp.

“No shooting near the ship—rush 'em!” a voice called. Four pirates ran across the courtyard under bright floodlights.

Crouching, Kivita fired from the ship's underside. A pirate clutched her stomach and fell. Two pirates raced back to the stairway, while one charged forward.

“The keypad!” Seul yelled, then met the pirate with her sword.

Kivita flipped up the armor plate, but gray-green chitinous material covered the keypad. Shit—more Sarrhdtuu tech. She wondered what connections Shekelor possessed and what they cost him.

While more voices shouted from the stairway and Seul battled the pirate, Kivita tried several hack codes. The chitinous material writhed with each keystroke, but none of the codes worked. She grimaced and tried her best hack. Still nothing.

Seul sidestepped the pirate's spike baton and swiped her sword through the man's faceplate. Wheezing, the pirate crawled back to the stairs, but collapsed before reaching them.

Heart racing, Kivita tapped random numbers until a tingling interrupted her thoughts. An eight-digit sequence came to mind. Kivita punched it in as six pirates spread throughout the courtyard.

The ship's hatch opened.

“C'mon!” Kivita grabbed Seul's good arm and ran up the ramp. Three pirates raced after them.

A spike baton pierced the polyarmor over Seul's left thigh. She grunted and shoved her sword into the man's faceplate. He staggered off the ramp, the blade stuck in his skull. Kivita fired her last shot, shattering another pirate's helmet.

After shoving Seul inside, Kivita slammed the hatch-lock lever. The entrance slid shut as weapons struck the other side. Lamps activated along the bulkheads, and life-support systems came on. A mildew stench greeted Kivita when she removed her helmet.

The interior was fitted with weapon racks and troop alcoves. Each rectangular viewport had a beam rifle welded into it. At the end of a hundred-foot-long corridor,
Fanged Pauper
was painted over the cockpit entrance.

“Can you pilot this vessel?” Seul leaned on a rack, her faceplate fogging up. Blood flowed from the puncture in her thigh.

“Yeah, no problem.” Kivita helped Seul limp to the cockpit. “Let me get us out of here; then we'll fix you up.”

“My armor's inner liner should—” Seul winced as her polyarmor hummed. Blood ceased running from the two cracks in her suit. “Should seal long enough for us to escape.”

“No wonder you wanted to wear your own suit.” Kivita strapped Seul into a nav-station seat, then eased herself into the pilot's gyro harness. As she buckled the straps, the alarm's wail grew in volume outside the ship.

“Bet you an energy dump they found Pretty Boy's body in the transmitter loft.” Kivita pulled the thruster ignition, activated the gravitational stabilizer, and gripped the manuals. With practiced ease, she lifted
Fanged Pauper
from the courtyard.

All around her, darkness covered Umiracan. Ecrol's glare had given way to one of the most beautiful night skies Kivita had ever seen. The Expanse's purple-gray, red-green nebulae stretched across the entire vista, with
stars twinkling here and there in a kaleidoscope of possibilities.

Though tension left Kivita's chest, she tightened her grip on the manuals. With a starship at her call, nothing could hold her down.

The console beeped with a new scanner readout. Kivita's heart jumped with excitement. It detected another ship in the Ecrol system—with an Aldaakian beacon signal.

“Seul, I think your friends have answered.”

After removing her helmet, Seul grimaced. “I hope they hurry. This vessel's stench will poison us.”

While
Fanged Pauper
gained altitude, flashes of light winked below. The scanner beeped again.

“Kivita, there are other ships lifting off the surface. We have been discovered.”

“Yeah, you think? Hang on. We'll see what else that green-rigged bastard's got wired into this thing.” Kivita yanked the manuals and barreled the craft to stern. It obeyed her command with smooth precision. Smiling, she thumbed the thrusters again, and
Fanged Pauper
catapulted into Umiracan's upper atmosphere.

“Good-bye . . .” Kivita swallowed a lump, unable to speak Sar's name. What if he and Cheseia had also been taken prisoner and not betrayed her to Shekelor? Well, there was nothing she could do for them. Besides, she still had the Juxj Star. Everybody wanted it, right? Hell, nobody wanted Sar . . .

“We had no choice but to leave them behind,” Seul said.

Kivita just nodded. She swore she was better off without him.

•   •   •

The thrum and boom of ships taking off outside shook Sar's cell. Years ago, Shekelor had possessed only six craft. Judging from the sounds, he must have three times as many now, enough to rival an Inheritor battle fleet.

“Sar, this is probably the time to tell me the truth.” Cheseia touched his cheek. “Have you ever truly loved—?”

The cell door slid open. A coil shot out and punched Sar to the floor.

“Who, really, is Kivita Vondir?” Shekelor asked. “No one else knows the code sequence to my ship's keypad!”

“You tell me,” Sar said. “The Sarrhdtuu not offer you enough, then?”

Two pirates hauled him and Cheseia into the corridor, where several others waited, weapons bared. Tense voices echoed down from the covered courtyard as the wailing alarm finally stopped.

“Who do you think is stealing my ship? Who do you think killed Orstaav and sent a signal into space?” Shekelor aimed a pistol at Sar's head. “It seems we both wanted to use that lovely weapon. She will not get far.”

“I'd already be dead if you didn't plan on selling me, too. Guess you'll need two ships to carry all that loot from the Rector and the Sarrhdtuu?” Sar studied Shekelor's wide-eyed glare. Something else had happened.

“Kivita will net me what I want. You are simply a bonus—for now.” Shekelor waved the pirates on.

The group left the battlement turret, walked through the courtyard, and entered the drinking hall. The pirate behind Cheseia carried her beam rifle. More pirates rushed about, collecting weapons and armor. Shekelor wouldn't place the entire fortress on alert just to capture one ship. Sar had to try something to escape. Old tales
of Ascali songs and the Sarrhdtuu dislike of music gave him an idea.

Sar glanced at Cheseia and blinked twice.

Cheseia shrieked a high-pitched note only an Ascali could manage. The green-rigged pirates paused and covered their ears, but Shekelor aimed his pistol at her. Ears ringing, Sar rammed his elbow into the warlord's left side.

In one motion, Cheseia slammed her knee into Shekelor's other side, then turned and kicked the pirate behind her. She snatched her beam rifle back and fired. Two more pirates toppled, torsos sliced from their legs. Sar grabbed Shekelor's pistol and aimed it at him. The other pirates halted, weapons ready.

“You're going to walk us to
Frevyx
.” Sar snapped his helmet on. Cheseia did the same, holding the rifle one-handed. “You even spit, you're dead.”

Shekelor smiled. “I cannot breathe out there, Redryll. I need a suit, too.”

“Move.” Sar minded Shekelor's coils as he and Cheseia followed the warlord down the ramp. The pirates backed away with reluctance, their eyes filled with murder.

Shekelor stared at Cheseia. “Interesting way of destabilizing my followers. Very interesting. But they shall pick you off as soon as you exit the fortress.”

“I doubt if their aim is as good as mine. Move.” Sar half squeezed the trigger, the gun aimed at Shekelor's head.

They made their way down the ramp slowly, the pirates following them. In the slave pens below, people fell silent as they watched two people lead their chief captor at gunpoint. The temptation to pull the trigger
ate away at Sar. Shekelor's betrayal had voided all the things they'd once fought for together.

They passed through the slave pens and walked down the next ramp in tense silence. In the adjacent barracks, dozens of men and women suited up in polyarmor. All stopped their preparations at the sight of their captive commander.

Shekelor stopped. “Go ahead, shoot me. Kivita Vondir will still end up as someone's asset. Not yours.” The pirates behind them came closer, and dozens on the ramp below crept toward Sar.

“Nice bravado,” Sar said. “Let's see if—”

The swerving door leading outside blew apart. Chunks of stone and mortar bowled over several pirates and crushed others. Shouts echoed in the chamber as green beams swept through the opening. More pirates, bodies sizzling or limbs dismembered, screamed.

“The air! Close that door!” Shekelor dove into the crowd below the ramp.

Sar fired point-blank at a rushing pirate. The man's head exploded in a red-gray geyser. Cheseia leveled her rifle and singed two more. More pirates rushed for envirosuits and face masks as Aldaakian Shock Troopers charged through the hole in the wall.

“We are not pirates!” Cheseia cried.

A squad of Shock Troopers lined up and incinerated a dozen of Shekelor's followers. Green beams swept the air, lopping off heads, hands, and torsos. Umiracan's noxious atmosphere flooded the fortress, choking any unprotected pirates.

Shekelor and his surviving followers fled up the ramp while Sar and Cheseia leapt from it into the breach. A pressurized portcullis shut at the top of the ramp as all
air became contaminated. Several pirates asphyxiated with jerking motions.

Two suited pirates turned their way, but Cheseia decapitated both with a single blast of her rifle. As both of them rushed from the hole, Sar slammed into a Shock Trooper while exiting the fortress. The soldier stumbled as Cheseia ran by and lashed out with a powerful leg. The Aldaakian collapsed, clutching his head.

“Run!” Sar shouted into his helmet mic.

They fled across Umiracan's dusty surface while more Shock Troopers disembarked from a distant shuttle. A second shuttle descended from the sky, its retro thrusters raising dust. Floodlights activated along the fortress's parapets; then gun turrets cut down several Troopers, leaving broken bodies in yellow soil turned red.

Sar ran for his ship, fear powering his stride. If Shekelor was right about his stolen vessel, then Kivita was already in space by now. He might still detect her beacon signal if they hurried, but Kivita would make a light jump as soon as possible, especially if she still had the Juxj Star.

Frevyx
remained in place, but six pirates and four Aldaakians lay dead around it, their bodies smoking. Five pirates still guarded the airlock, guns raised. They turned just as Cheseia squeezed off a shot. The green beam sliced off their rifle barrels as the pirates ducked.

“That was certainly all of it!” She brandished the rifle like a club.

As three pirates charged with drawn blades, Sar fired his last shot. The round shattered one pirate's shoulder. In the Umiracan night, the whooshing swords and armored figures reminded Sar of the Fall of Freen: Inheritors attacking at nightfall, slaughtering innocents. Old hatred erupted in him.

He dodged a strike, a thrust, then hammered a pirate's faceplate with the pistol. The plate broke, but the pirate smashed her elbow into Sar's side, then cut Sar's kneecap. His envirosuit beeped a contamination warning. A second pirate lunged at him, but Sar drew his blade and ruptured the man's suit. Blood poured out as the pirate flailed, his air gone.