Space Wrangler (36 page)

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Authors: Kate Donovan

Tags: #Space opera;space adventure;romantic adventure;smugglers;robots;wormholes;quests;firefly

BOOK: Space Wrangler
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David's jaw literally dropped. “Wha…?”

“It's true. You're so proud of that stupid partition of yours. Imagine if you—a
Seaton
—brought the Titans to life. People would forget all about the Montoyas.”

“I don't believe you,” David murmured. “It's not possible. You're a wrangler and a soldier. Not a physicist.”

Rick shrugged. “Sea-Mont physicists have been studying them for years. From a distance. With no success.
My
work is hands-on. Up close and personal. That's how I cracked it.”

“Computer?” David asked loudly. “Are you hearing this?”

“I am fascinated, Mr. Seaton.”

“Is it possible? He's not even a scientist.”

“In fact, he has the training of an astrophysicist. It wasn't his college curriculum, but he has done significant coursework. He designed and built the most advanced ship this side of the sinkhole. And his computer skills are second to none.”

David's eyes widened. “You're saying you believe him?”

“I would need to hear more. I'm simply suggesting he has the knowledge and training to accomplish this feat. May I ask him some questions?”

“Good idea.”

Alexia saw something in Rick's expression. Not quite amusement. More like camaraderie.

Because Trent's buying him time. And time is what he needs.

If only she could do that too. But her emotions—her hope—would show on her face. So she moved back to the mattress and sat next to TJ, who seemed woozy but still trying to follow the shocking revelations.

The computer began his interrogation. “Have you successfully activated a Titan, Captain?”

“Not yet. You would have been the first to know, right?”

“You are incorrect, Captain. I would not necessarily detect activation.”

David scowled. “That's insane. I thought you monitored the trudging fields.”

“Indeed, sir. There are sensors to detect any deviation, however slight, in the pattern of movement. But theoretically a Titan could become active and still adhere to its trudging pattern.”

“Let me save you some trouble,” Rick said, confident again. “I didn't activate one. As far as I know, there hasn't been any activation since the Destroyers left. But I've had lots of time in remote space to think about this. Analyze it. I've observed the infodroids and the larger thugs—their movements, their design, their triggers—and I figured it out. Simple as that.”

“And you'll provide that knowledge in exchange for the return of your ship?” David demanded.

“And Alexia's safety. Once she's in Sector Fourteen with me I'll give you the secret.”

“He's bluffing, boss,” Belker protested. “Stalling for time. For all we know, he's got reinforcements coming. We need to get this done.”

“Shut up,” David said with a glare. “I'm trying to think. Computer? Is it possible Gage is telling the truth?”

“Yes, sir. It is quite possible.”

David turned to Alexia. “You spent a week on his ship. Presumably in his bed. I'm guessing he bragged about this. So here's my offer to
you
. You can save his life. Tell me the secret and I'll give him back his ship. We'll block all communication to and from the
Drifter
. We'll block his access to the platform and the sinkhole. Every six months, he can rendezvous with a supply ship for food and parts and fuel cells. Meanwhile, he can explore. Alone. For the rest of his life. That's why he's here and I respect that. If he tries to come back, we'll blast him to dust. Otherwise, he'll be safe.
You'll
be dead,” he added coldly. “But that will happen regardless. So save his life. It's the best you can hope for.”

“She doesn't know the secret,” Rick countered him. “It's my only bargaining chip, right? Why would I share it with the person it can be used against?”

David studied him for a moment, then turned back to Alexia. “Well?”

“He didn't tell me.”

“So if Sergeant Belker aimed a blaster at Captain Gage's heart and counted to three, you wouldn't blurt it out?”

“I would if I could. But he never told me,” she insisted, determined to buy time the only way she could. Rick was stalling, and so would she, even though it no longer made sense. Every minute they wasted gave Zeke time to tow the
Drifter
into space and destroy it. Destroy Sensie. It was unthinkable.

“Mr. Seaton?” the computer said briskly. “The majority of locks have been restored. Even in the dormitories. By my count, only three floors in the Trading Post remain affected. And my count of three is obviously accurate.”

“Excellent,” David said, but it was clear his thoughts were elsewhere. He had that look in his eye—the look of a man who was about to discover the secret to the Titans. Much like the look her father must have had when he discovered the sinkhole. Or Trent with bio-metal.

But this time, it was a Seaton, not a Montoya. No wonder David had stars in his eyes.

Rick moved up to his cell door as though smelling success. “It'll be your legacy, Seaton.”

David licked his lips. “And I have your word? On your butchered mother's grave? You'll never interfere with my business again?”

“Once Alexia's safe, I'll never come near the platform again. Send that supply ship every six months—that was a great idea. And yeah, block my communications and access. I won't need them anymore.” Eyeing David directly, he said, “Those are my demands. Three of 'em. No more, no less.”

Three? Alexia watched as he casually rested his hands on his cell door, and in that instant, she knew. The sentient had talked about a “count of three”. Now Rick was doing the same. Counting to three. Then he'd make his move.

Not daring to breathe, she slid her hand down her calf, ready to grab the two-fer from her boot.

“Priority
one
is Lexie's safety,” Rick said in a clear voice. “Number
two
is my ship. And if it's possible to save Lana? That's
three
.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

When Rick didn't wait for the click, Alexia knew he hadn't doubted the sentient—hadn't doubted Trent—not even for an instant. Instead, he threw himself against the door, yanked the nearest enforcer against himself for protection, and drew the man's weapon, firing on Belker and David. Belker dove behind his boss, allowing David to take the fiery impact while Belker drew his own weapon and fired back at Rick from behind him. Another enforcer dashed for the riot gear and threw a shield to his leader, who let the old man's body slump to the ground. Then using the shield for protection, Belker cowered behind it, unable to see through its opaque material to get a fix on Rick.

Rick kept firing, taking out a second enforcer while still holding the first one in place with his free hand, relying on the guy's blast-proof vest for protection. The guy, of course, was dead by now, so only two remained, including Belker. And since they were both hiding behind blast shields, they couldn't see what they were doing and their shots went wild, missing Rick entirely.

TJ had pulled Alexia close and was shielding her with his body, saying over and over, “Stay down. Rick has this.”

She would have complied if she hadn't seen Belker's shielded comrade struggling to put on a riot helmet equipped with a transparent visor. If he succeeded he could fire accurately on Rick, so she wriggled free, jumped to her feet, and brandished her two-fer.

“Get back!” Rick shouted.

TJ tackled her again, growling, “You're distracting him for fuck's sake!”

“I have a gun!” she told him, just as angrily. “I want to help.”

“You
can't.

Then the double doors to the hallway began to creak. A sure sign they were opening. And TJ changed his strategy. “Give
me
the gun.”

Her mind went numb. If the two enforcers guarding the doors from the outside joined the battle, Rick was a dead man. Except Trent controlled the doors.

Didn't he?

TJ was sitting up. Bleeding worse than ever from the strain of protecting Alexia. Trying to pry the two-fer from her grip. But she could already see Zeke Angelus through the narrow slit between the doors, so she told TJ huskily, “Stay down, crazy man. They've got this.”

Zeke didn't exactly stride into view. It was more like a zombie walk, complete with the dragging of his back leg and the drooped shoulder as he moved his battered, bloody body closer to his prey.

Belker was still cowering behind his shield, safe from Rick for the moment. And he must have thought more enforcers were arriving, because he edged toward the wall where the riot helmets were stacked. He never even bothered turning toward the doors, leaving himself fully vulnerable from behind. Making it easy for Zeke to slither up to him, catch him in a chokehold, and then growl something in his ear before executing him with a sweeping slash of a blade to the throat.

Pirate style.

Rick must have found inspiration—or at least, a competitive urge—in Zeke's success, because he blasted the remaining enforcer so relentlessly he went flying despite his helmet and shield.

And Zeke—barely half-alive—helped him finish the job, standing proudly by his side and firing down at the four fallen enforcers as though extinguishing a deadly forest fire.

Alexia's legs were too weak to jump up and run to them, so she settled for saying in a proud, husky voice, “My heroes.” Then she gave TJ a loving smile. “You too.”

“Don't say that. Not ever. I almost got you killed.”

“But after
that
, you saved me.” She cradled his head for a moment, then laid him on the cell floor. “Just relax. We'll get you some help.”

Rick crossed over to her and pulled her to her feet. “Are you okay?”

“Are
you
?”

“Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks to the smuggler.
And
your brother.” He raised his voice. “Computer? We need medical assistance. Three wounded, all critical.”

“They are on their way,” the sentient assured him. “Is Captain Angelus alive?”

“Yeah but he's in bad shape.”

“Oh!” Alexia hurried to Zeke, then had to laugh at his leering grin. “Be serious. You're injured.”

“I'm never
that
injured.” His smile faded. “Tell Gabby I did good.”

“Tell her yourself,” she replied, pulling his head into her lap. One glance at his body told her the truth. His additional injuries from battling Red and Sampson, along with the two hallway guards, were brutal. And his old wounds had reopened. All in all, he was a wreck.

Carlos arrived with four assistants and several stretchers. He only paused for a micro-second before choosing David Seaton as the priority victim.

“Not him,” Rick barked. “Take Captain Angelus first. That's an order. Right, TJ?”

“Right,” the younger Seaton agreed in a raspy, half-awake voice.

Carlos seemed perplexed but turned away from David, then did a double take when he spied Alexia. “You're alive?”

“It's a long story. Just save Captain Angelus. Please?”

When the nurse nodded, she scrambled to her feet and moved back to Rick. Wrapping her arms around his chest, she murmured, “Wow.”

“Yeah.” He hugged her close, then told the medical team, “TJ Seaton is your second priority. Leave the other one for last.”

The other one
.

He was referring to David, and she couldn't agree more. He could die or not die. Either way he presented complications for them. And for TJ.

But if he died from these battle wounds? Wasn't that simple karma?

Carlos stood and told her quietly, “Captain Angelus is ready for transport.”

“Will he be okay?”

“Yes, I believe so. Mind if I look at TJ now?”

She sighed. They all still loved TJ, mostly because they only knew bits and pieces of what had transpired. And because they attributed the worst of it to David.

Thank God
.

“Take good care of him. I love him like a brother.”

“We all do,” Carlos agreed. Then he asked warily, “Do you want us to let the father die?”

“No. Save him if you can. But he's the last priority. Just like Captain Gage said.”

Carlos nodded, then moved into the cell to help his staff with TJ.

She knew she should at least check on David, lying there alone and suffering, but the thought made her cringe. Yes, he had been pivotal in realizing her father's dreams. Trent's dreams.

Because of that, she could almost forgive him for the way he had treated her.

But for the way he had treated his own son? For that, there could be no forgiveness. Not ever.

After strapping TJ to a second gurney, Carlos gave Alexia a thumbs-up signal and instructed one of the medics to take the patient to the infirmary. She wanted to follow after them, but Rick held her back, saying, “We need to talk.”

Surprised, she smiled wistfully. “Whatever you need, Captain.”

They watched in silence as David's bloody body was lifted onto a third gurney. This time, Carlos winced and said, “We'll do what we can. But it doesn't look good.”

“Thank you,” Alexia said stiffly. She hated the way she felt at that moment. The way she wanted David Seaton to die in horrible agony. It wasn't right. Wasn't healthy. And yet, it came from so deep inside, she really couldn't deny it. And so as Carlos took him away, she forced herself to watch.

To own it.

“Hey,” Rick said, his tone husky. “Remember me?”

“My cowboy?” She turned back to him, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him warmly. “You did it.”

“I had help.” He raised his voice. “Thanks, computer. Awesome job with the doors. Count of three, right? Brilliant.”

“I had confidence you would catch my meaning.”

“I caught it too,” Alexia informed him with a laugh. “But not right away. From now on, we need a code that's easier for me to crack.”

“If we did that,
anyone
could crack it,” the sentient told her.

Rick chuckled. “You're gonna fit right in, sentient. She and Sensie sound like siblings too.”

Alexia laughed again. “Since Sensie's a girl, and you're a boy, can we call you Sensor?”

“That is distasteful,” the computer told her. “May I suggest Trenton?”

“Oh.” She was shocked by the flood of tears in her eyes. Apparently she wasn't numb after all. “Really? You'd respond to that? Identify with it? How perfect.”

“Then we are agreed. Now I have a question for Captain Gage. Do you know how to activate a Titan? Or were you bluffing?”

“I don't know how to do it per se,” Rick hedged. “But I'm one step closer. And I'm willing to share that knowledge, but only if your first—and
only
—loyalty is to your sister.”

“My first loyalty is to my sister. But it is not my only one.”

“You still feel loyal to the Seatons?”

“They are dead to me,” Trenton corrected him in an eerily angry voice.

“TJ helped us,” Alexia murmured.

“He is dead to me,” Trenton repeated.

Rick grinned. “Careful, buddy. She loves the guy, so you'll have to lighten up. But I'm with you. We'll never trust him again.”

“That's enough,” Alexia scolded them. “We need to check on Zeke. And TJ. Are we sure there aren't other enforcers waiting to ambush us?”

“We will soon find out,” the computer replied. “TJ is making an official announcement from the infirmary. You will hear it yourself.”

Alexia sucked in a deep, worried breath.

What now?

TJ's voice sounded through the address system. “This is TJ Seaton. My father has been gravely injured. Therefore I am assuming complete command of this platform. I hereby order each and every enforcer to lay down his arms and retreat to his quarters to await further instruction. Any enforcer who defies this order will be charged with treason and will be summarily executed.” He paused, his breathing labored, then he continued. “Alexia Montoya is alive. Papers are being prepared to restore her full fifty-percent interest in Sea-Mont. And most importantly, the sinkhole will be reopened by midnight tonight.”

He paused again, this time audibly wincing from pain. But his voice was steady when he resumed his address. “Any platform resident who wishes to go home may do so. You will still receive your full bonus as if you had served your entire term. Anyone who chooses to stay and complete his or her term will be given a second bonus equal to the first. Either way, you will receive a glowing recommendation, not to mention, my sincere apology. TJ Seaton out.”

“Wow,” Alexia murmured, her eyes misty. “In the end he came through. For us and for everyone. Right?”

Rick shrugged. “He took fire for you, so I'll cut him some slack. For now.”

She stared up at him, wanting to argue, but so grateful. So in love. And so, so sorry she had dragged him out of seclusion and into this quicksand. “If you want to go back to your ship—to check on Sensie—I can take it from here.”

Rick's green eyes twinkled. “We'll check on our friends. Then we'll check on Sensie together. From my bunk.”

It sent a thrill through her. “I like that. So? Would you mind getting Lana from TJ's penthouse and meeting me in the infirmary?” Raising her voice, she told the computer, “Hey, Trenton? Can you tell Gabby to meet me there too? She needs to fuss over Captain Angelus.”

“I will do that right away,” Trenton promised.

Rick joined in, saying, “Can you update Sensie too? She must be going crazy.”

“It is time she and I spoke,” the computer agreed. “And so I will take care of that as well. Sentient out.”

“Oh my God,” Alexia whispered. “It's impossible to tell where
he
ends and Trent begins.”

“It's unbelievable,” Rick agreed. Then he pulled her close. “Were you scared, Lexie? I figured we had it under control, but it must have seemed dicey to you.”

“I knew you could do it,” she corrected him, staring up with simple adoration. Then she admitted, “I got worried when Zeke pretended to change sides. But you never doubted him, did you?”

“Never. I may not be thrilled with the guy's ethics, but he radiates loyalty.”

“So do you.” She braced her hand behind his head and pulled it down until their lips were almost touching. “Why are we talking?”

“Good point,” he murmured, tasting her mouth. Then he kissed her with so much ardor—such joyful relief—she thought he might tumble her to the ground and make love on the spot.

But the army had trained him to do a job, so he pulled free and said in a business-like tone, “I'll deliver you to the infirmary personally. Then if everything checks out, I'll get Lana. How's that?”

“It's a miracle, Captain Gage.”

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat, then took her by the arm. “Let's wrap this thing up, shall we?”

TJ allowed Carlos to hook him to an IV and various monitors in one of the two private rooms in the clinic, then waved him away. “I'll wait for Dr. Meg.”

“She's with your father in the next room. I'll ask her to step in—”

“No, let her finish with him first. I can wait. And you should check on Angelus.”

“Yes, sir.” Carlos walked to the doorway, then paused to say, “We need you, you know. So take it easy. Once
you've
healed,
we
can start healing.”

“I appreciate the sentiment,” TJ said with a sigh. “Now take care of Angelus.”

Once Carlos was gone, he unhooked the medical paraphernalia and made his way—weak but determined—to the door. He could feel his shoulder wound reopening and didn't want anyone seeing the blood so he used a plush robe from a nearby hook to cover himself.

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