New Dawn (Divine War Book 1) (10 page)

*

“I have been expecting you, Captain. What took you so long?”

The older man sitting in the captain's chair of the
Argoni
snorted at his own joke.

“Come, come, bring her a little closer,” he said.

In response, the two soldiers who were restraining Lucia half-dragged her across the deck. Her hands were bound and her mouth was taped, but her eyes flashed fire as she was pulled in front of the portly, uniformed man.

“I'm forgetting myself,” he continued, looking at her quite benevolently. “Where are my manners? I know exactly who you are, and I've not even introduced myself. I am Admiral Stookie of the Imperial Navy. You'll forgive me if I don't shake your hand, Captain? You seem to be a little... tied up at the moment.”

Once more he laughed, a high-pitched, almost feminine laugh, and rose from the large chair he'd been sitting in, coming closer to her. He nodded at one of the guards, who then kicked Lucia behind the knee, forcing her to kneel before the Admiral.

“Now, little one,” the Admiral said, close enough that she could smell his salty, sweaty scent. “Sabotage isn't very honourable, is it?”

She tried desperately to think, her knees digging into the wooden deck beneath her, her eyes darting back and forth. There were no other prisoners with her. That meant there was a good chance that Kabi and Benho were around somewhere, which in turn meant a fair chance of escape, especially with Kabi around.

The Admiral grabbed her chin, giving her a long, leering look. Bending, he whispered something disgustingly unrepeatable into her ear and laughed at the sickened look on her face. Then he reached out and tore the tape from her mouth so fast that she wanted to scream in pain. She caught the cry at the last moment and swallowed it down, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

“You are so beautiful,” he said, his hand still on her chin, turning her head from side to side to get a better look. “It's such a shame that you have to die.” He pretended to think for a moment. “Or do you?”

Curiosity got the better of her. “What do you mean?” she asked.

The Admiral sighed, let go of her face, and began pacing in front of her, hands behind his back. “Before you are two choices. You can give me the stolen data disk, and I will let you live. Or you can refuse, and I will kill you. It is simple, is it not, little one? Yes or no, black or white.”

Playing for time, she looked up at him as if puzzled. “What data disk? I have many data disks on my ship. Which one exactly do you want?”

His hand came out in a flash, swiftly slapping her across the face. She felt the burning pain and tasted the metallic, coppery taste of blood in her mouth. Turning, she spat onto the deck, and the Admiral giggled his strange laugh again.

“Dear, dear. Such a shame to destroy such beauty,” he said. Then he leaned in close, his face almost touching hers. “I want the data disk that you took from the Ambassador,” he growled, his grey eyes small and bloodshot.

“What Ambassador?” she asked innocently.

“Enough.” He waved a hand at one of the guards, who disappeared. “Don't take me for a fool, and don't waste either my time or yours. Your time in particular is very precious just at the moment.”

His hand dropped to his pocket, toying with something.

“A very reliable source of mine has told me that you have contacted an agent of this Ambassador. So, little one, spare me the lies and hand over the data disk.” He smiled a cold, hard smile at her. “And then I shall let you live. At least until the day of your trial, at which point I assume you shall be hanged for treachery anyway.”

His hand still toyed with whatever was in his pocket, and he appeared thoughtful before removing a small black canister.

“I happen to have with me a new weapon from the Imperial Research Laboratory,” he said in a conversational tone of voice. “They call it a sonic pistol. Apparently it can emit a lethal sound wave that can crush anything it comes into contact with.” He tossed the canister up in the air and caught it again. “And I've been dying for a chance to try it out.” He grinned at her. “This might be just the opportunity I've been waiting for. Shall we see what it can do?”

Without waiting for her answer, he shouted for a prisoner. Lucia's heart stopped. So they did have at least one of the others. She held her breath as the guard dragged a man into the room. Her eyes searched in panic for any familiar sign, and then she heaved a sigh of relief as she realised that this man was completely unknown to her.

With cool, measured strides, the Admiral walked across the bridge to the prisoner, pressed the black canister against his forehead, and pressed a button. In a split second the prisoner's eyes turned from horror-filled to lifeless, blood seeping from the sockets, mingling with effluent from his nose and mouth as it ran down his face. The Admiral nodded in satisfaction, and Lucia turned her head from the nauseating sight.

“Almost instant death,” noted the Admiral, turning back to Lucia. “Am I not kind?”

Casually he approached her, grasped the back of her neck in thick, strong fingers, and placed the canister against her head.

“Now, where were we?” he asked.

This day was fairly inevitable. She had played with fire for a long time without getting burnt. But now that it was here, she found that she really, really didn't want to die. She closed her eyes for a moment, making peace within herself.

When she opened them again, she glared defiantly at the Admiral.

“I know nothing,” she spat.

The Admiral shook his head, disappointed, and moved his finger over the trigger button.

*

Something doesn't feel right at all
, Maicee thought. He went over and over the plan that had been hatched, trying to find the flaw. There must have been something that none of them had thought of. Because he still had that bad, bad feeling. He paced the bridge of the
Freedom
, muttering to himself as he thought, Niku watching him half in amusement, half in fear.

“Maicee, listen carefully.”

He looked up, but no one else had heard the voice. It was in his head. But it was familiar. It sounded an awful lot like Kabi.

“This is a trap. There was an ambush waiting for us here. You need to get the
Freedom
to safety fast. Save yourself. You are in danger.”

“It's a trap,” Maicee blurted out.

Niku stared at him, and he grabbed Falorni by the arms, turning her towards him.

“It's a trap. We need to get out of here. Now.”

Falorni looked at the young doctor, his face white with shock, his eyes darting around the bridge. “Are you sure?” she asked uncertainly, not knowing quite what had changed in the last second or so to make Maicee look so panicked.

“Certain.”

Falorni shook her head. “I can't do that. I can't move the ship without an order from the captain or from the first mate. The decision isn't mine to make, Maicee.”

His hands gripped her more tightly. “We don't have time. We can't wait. We need to leave now. Right now.”

“Without Lucia or Bettie, I can't...”

But even as she spoke, the bridge door slid open, emitting a short, stocky woman.

“Bettie, thank the Gods you're back,” said Falorni, obviously relieved.

The short woman gave a cheeky grin. “Glad to know you missed me so much.” She walked over to Maicee, who had let go of the ship's medic. “Bettie, first officer of the
Freedom
. Sorry I wasn't here to greet you when you came aboard,” she said, offering her hand.

“There's no time for introductions,” Maicee said, though he took her hand out of habit before realising what he'd done and letting it drop. “We need to get out of here. We have to move the
Freedom
.”

Bettie frowned. “Why, what's the matter?” she asked, her suspicions heightened by the nervous young man in front of her.

“It's a trap. The captain and the others have been ambushed. We need to move out in case someone reveals our position.”

The first officer reached into her robe and pulled out a dagger, pointing its lethal sharpness at Maicee's throat, though she noticed that the man didn't flinch. “Are you a spy?” she said sharply. “How do you know all this?”

“Kabi told me,” Maicee said, trying not to swallow in case the point of the knife hit him as he did so.

“Did you hear this communication?” Bettie asked, keeping the dagger level but turning to Falorni.

“No, ma'am,” the young medic said, quietly but definitely.

“I don't know how to convince you, but it's true,” said Maicee, getting desperate.

Bettie saw the true fear in his eyes and began lowering the dagger.

“I heard it too,” squeaked Niku from the control console. “I did, and it was Kabi. He can, he knows, he can talk into my head if he needs to,” the Chamonkey stuttered.

The first officer shook her head and sank into the captain's chair, dagger hanging from her hand. “A talking Chamonkey and a psychic message,” she said slowly. “And just what, pray tell, makes you think that I'm going to believe either one of you?”

“Because your captain's in danger. As are we if we don't get this ship moved,” Maicee said, more confident now that there wasn't a knife at his throat.

“And because moving the ship wouldn't do any harm,” Falorni added quietly. “If he's right, we avoid the trap. If he's wrong...” She shrugged. “We have lost nothing.”

Bettie bit her lip, thinking, then nodded sharply. Getting up, she studied the tactical overlay column and pointed to a place on the map.

“Bear sharp to starboard. Leave green marker nine, twenty to fifty yards to port,” she ordered. “We'll hide the ship here.”

Kate, the quiet navigator on the far side of the bridge, keyed in an authorisation code. “Prepare for launch,” she announced over the ship's com.

But the
Freedom
simply shuddered, then stalled. A high-pitched beeping sound began.

“Ship reports engine error,” said Kate, not turning from her screen. She keyed something into the com. “Lean, Lean. Come in.”

An empty stillness crackled over the com.

“Falorni, you, doctor, go immediately to the engine room and check status,” Bettie said, moving around to a screen of her own, her eyes intent on finding out what was wrong with the ship.

Falorni grabbed Maicee's hand, pulling him off the bridge and down a series of corridors until they arrived at a metal door. Wisps of smoke emanated from the cracks around it. Falorni put a hand to the metal, noted that it wasn't hot, and, pulling her robe across her face, began opening the door. Maicee copied her actions, and as the door opened, a rush of smoke came out. When the fumes cleared, they could see Lean, the engineer, lying on the floor of the engine room. Quickly, Falorni moved to her, picking up her shoulders.

“Get her feet,” she ordered Maicee. “Let's get her to the medical bay now.”

Doing as he was told, Maicee saw the remains of a small explosive charge next to one of the engine controls. Small enough to disable them but not to sink them, he noted as he picked up the tall engineer's feet.

Depositing Lean onto a bunk in the medical bay, Falorni went straight to the com to report in.

“Lean injured but stable. Main engine offline. Will require repair before we can proceed.”

“Noted,” crackled back Bettie's voice. “Have activated ABDS. Over.”

“What's going on? What's ABDS?” asked Maicee, as Falorni ended the com call.

The girl shrugged. “It's the ship's automated boarding defence system. It's designed to repel boarders or those who might be on the ship without permission. Bolts will shoot through the ship's corridors if movement is detected.”

Maicee groaned and sat on the edge of a bunk. “The main engine is down, and bolts are shooting down corridors,” he said, looking horrified. “We can't move the ship.”

“We can't even move from the medical bay until the ABDS had been disabled,” Falorni told him.

He put his head in his hands. The
Freedom
was going nowhere. Which was exactly what whoever had sabotaged them wanted. There was no escape.

T
he entrance to the bridge
of the
Argoni
literally burst open, shards of the steel door exploding inwards and decapitating the two guards instantly. As the door was breached, a loud, wailing siren began to sound, echoing through the Imperial ship. The soldiers who ran to the bridge from the deck saw an unbelievable sight: Kabi, his left hand outstretched towards the hole blasted in the steel door, and a glittering crystal sword in his right hand.

The soldiers stood, facing the door, their mouths open in astonishment, until the Admiral broke their trances.

“Fire, fools!” he growled.

As a man, the soldiers drew their weapons, energy bolts flying from every blaster, converging into one huge ball of exploding fire.

“Fire! Fire!” repeated the Admiral, raising his voice above the hissing of the bolts.

After three salvoes, the men paused, as they had been trained to do, to allow the smoke to clear and to give them a better sighting of the enemy. And once more, they were left open-mouthed. Kabi still stood in the doorway, his posture relaxed, his sword arm poised for battle. The bolts had had no effect whatsoever.

Two men took the initiative—brave men, men who saw the opportunity to please their Admiral, to achieve the promotions that both so desperately wanted, and they drew their own swords, edging closer to the man in the doorway. The Admiral laughed his high-pitched, girlish laugh, gleeful at what he knew was about to happen.

For a moment, Kabi allowed himself to leave the place of deep focus in his mind, the place where the power resided, and rely instead on his physical skills. Swinging the great crystal sword with ease, he gracefully parried and took on both soldiers at the same time. With dancelike movements, he goaded them into their mistakes, and within seconds, both lay dead. He stepped back, allowing his weight to descend onto his heels for an instant of rest.

“It appears that you have not lost your skills,” the Admiral said, his voice admiring.

As he spoke, there was a resounding clang of metal on metal as the remaining soldiers on the bridge unsheathed their swords in one movement. The Admiral laughed but held up a hand to stop them. He had no desire to watch such a mismatched fight again.