Star Cruise: Marooned (20 page)

The climb was endless. Red calculated there was actually only about thirty feet between them and the surface, which he could have accomplished in no time. Bettis, however, moved slowly, taking long rest breaks. Word was shouted to them Meg had reached the top and successfully opened the hatch. On one level, he was relieved, but the opening at the top caused the tunnel to act like a chimney, drawing the noxious smoke and fumes from the burning installation to rush past him on its way to the sky. Lightheaded, Red gripped the rungs with a clenched hand as the available oxygen was replaced by toxins. He should have closed the lower hatch. It wasn’t like him to make even a simple mistake. The fumes must be getting to him more than he’d realized. Well, he wasn’t about to risk descending.

“You have to climb faster,” he said to Bettis, hanging on the rungs above him. “We’re going to suffocate in here.”

“I’ll make it. I can see the sky.” Coughing, the businessman levered himself upward a few more feet. “She’s his heir, you know.”

“Callina?”

“Yes. It was part of his wife’s prenup for the daughter to be named in his will. I find a certain irony in that, don’t you?” Eyes gleaming, Bettis peered at him through the smoke. “His stepdaughter and I’ll be running his business empire since he died on this backwater planet.”

“I’ll ponder irony later. Save your breath and
move.”
Red’s wrist chrono had been stolen by the Shemdylann on the beach, but he had a refined sense of time. Worry gnawed at his nerves that the extraction shuttle might have already landed somewhere close by. If he was right, the clock was ticking on their chances of escape. The robo would only wait so long before self-destructing, if he didn’t board and take control. Sure, he’d talked a good game to Meg about heading north and surviving off the land, but he wanted to take her home to the Sectors, where they both belonged, not revert to caveman status and die on Dantaralon.

Eventually, Bettis made it to the top and Red waited while Meg and Callina hauled the gasping man out of the tunnel, half dragging him into the grass. A few moments later, Red got himself out, turning to scan in the direction of the complex, even as he was pulling huge quantities of clean air into his lungs. Towering flames lit the night sky.

“Whatever the AI did set the nearby trees on fire,” Meg said, hurrying to join him. “How can anything burn after the torrential rain the other night—?”

“As long as the fire distracts the Shemdylann.” He wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “Are you okay?”

She leaned into him, her warm curves comforting against his body. “I’ll be better when we see the shuttle land. How’re you doing?”

“I’m good.” He took in another lungful of clean night air. “Let’s get our passengers to the landing field, shall we, Miss Antille?”

“Lead the way, Third Officer.”

Using his handlamp judiciously, he took the lead, Meg bringing up the rear, and wove through the trees toward the landing field. The fugitives had to go to ground once when a pair of Shemdylann flitters raced overhead in the direction of the fire, but Red had the group on their feet and running a moment later, while he lagged behind with Bettis.

“Take point,” he said to Meg. “I need to know if the shuttle is here yet.”

All too soon, she came back. “The shuttle’s already landed. At least I hope it’s our shuttle. Definitely human, not Shemdylann. No sign of any activity.”

“Lords of Space, I’ve got to get there before the AI runs out of time.” He dropped Bettis to the grass as gently as he could and sprinted, ignoring the need for stealth or cover.
 

Meg was right, there was a small Special Forces shuttle parked on the landing field…nothing but a black silhouette, no lights. As he approached, he sent a silent thank you to Max for sending a top of the line flyer, fast and extremely difficult for the enemy to detect. This model even carried limited weaponry. He slammed his hand onto the access panel, allowing the AI to register his DNA signature. The hatch slid open, a ramp unfolding.
 

A moment later, Red was inside, making his way to the pilot’s chair at the bow. “Sergeant Simon Thomsill, taking command of this vessel,” he said formally as he sat.

“Acknowledged. “

A metal plate slid aside, revealing the instrument panel and controls. Luckily, the configuration on this model was close to ones he’d flown while on active duty.

“Enemy craft approaching from the west,” the AI reported. “ETA two minutes.”

“Begin engine sequence.” Red ran to the door, cupping his hand to his mouth so his voice would carry as he yelled. “Hurry up, move it. We’ve got incoming.”

He didn’t dare step out of the shuttle to help, afraid the AI would interpret his absence in a negative manner.

Meg and Callina were half running, half dragging Bettis.

Red swore under his breath, wild with impatience to get the shuttle into the air. “We’re sitting ducks here,” he shouted to the two women.

Bettis collapsed short of the ramp, taking his wife with him, landing in a tangled heap. Meg kept her balance, pulling at both of them, trying to get one or the other to their feet.

Taking the risk of leaving the shuttle, Red covered the distance in a few steps, yanking Meg away from Callina and aiming her at their transport. “Seven hells, get inside.”
 

He bent over the Bettises. “Go ahead, I’ll carry him.” As the wife hesitantly stepped onto the shuttle ramp, Red got the moaning man on his shoulders and carried him through the portal right on her heels. “Seal the ship!” he ordered the AI, dropping Bettis into a seat. “Lift off.”

The AI obeyed, leaving the ground in a nearly vertical tilt. Red clawed at the seats as he worked his way to the controls. “Strap yourselves in,” he yelled over his shoulder. “This is gonna be rough.” He couldn’t spare any time for his passengers. He had to get outside the atmosphere and make the jump to hyperdrive before any waiting Shemdylann or Mawreg got a tractor beam on them. Or blasted them from the sky. After struggling so hard to reach this point, Red wasn’t prepared to be defeated now.

He wedged himself into the pilot’s chair again and took the flight controls, jinking to the left as three Shemdylann fighters swooped in, trying to box the shuttle in and force it down. “More thrust!”

The AI obliged with a power boost, and the ship jumped even as it twisted and veered under Red’s hands. “Fire at will,” he said, knowing the AI was going to be better at targeting under these circumstances than he was. “How long till we reach hyperdrive threshold?” He spun the ship in another violent maneuver, then spun closer to the original course, hoping his passengers were securely in their seats.

“Two minutes, Sergeant.” The AI’s voice was calm.

He flew over and above the Shemdylann, realizing his ship was now close to the atmospheric boundary. He had to put a small amount of distance between himself and the planet, and he could order the ship to jump.

A Mawreg fighter cut across his bow and only adrenaline-fueled instant reflexes kept him from crashing into the enemy. Red spun his ship to the left and upward in a spiral, as the distance viewers showed him a massive Mawreg battleship sailing into view at the curve of the planet. A swarm of fighters was disgorging from its belly.

Two of the four moons shot past in the scanners, Red flying like a crazed comet and the AI firing the blasters, Shemdylann and Mawreg hot on their tail. “Hyperspace now,” he said. “Now, dammit.”

Thankfully, the AI was a military model and didn’t argue with him about safety. The ship jolted as it entered hyperspace, all the monitors reflecting the intense blue light accompanying the move. “Course calculated.”

Red took his hands off the controls. There was nothing else to be done. The AI would handle the docking with the military vessel dispatched to retrieve them. He half turned to leave the chair, but Meg was right there.

“The Bettises are okay, maybe shaken up a bit more, but nothing serious,” she said. “Helluva flying job you did.”

“We made it.”

“Thanks to you,” she said, swaying as their ship popped out of hyperspace close to a formation of imposing Sectors vessels.

The ship the AI headed for wasted no time in contacting them. “
Penelope
calling shuttle.”

Red thumbed the tab. “All here and accounted for,
Penelope.
Thanks for the ride.”

“Our pleasure, Sergeant,” said the voice at the other end. “We’ll bring you in on automatic. Any injuries? Do we need medics on the flight deck?”

“We’re all a bit banged up, one bad ankle sprain, nothing serious.” Red was occupied with drawing Meg into his lap, a process made difficult by the cramped quarters in the cockpit.

“We’ll see you in five then. Oh, and Sergeant?”

Reluctantly, Red pulled back from the kiss he was enjoying. “Yeah?”

“Your cruise ship didn’t make it, got blasted out of the sky before they could jump. The last civilian vessel out of the system before the enemy took control of the planetspace was the TDJ
Bluebird.
Our captain thought you’d want to know.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Meg sat silently for a moment, her expression reflecting shock, as if she’d been punched in the gut. Red smoothed her hair off her face. “You okay?”

“It’s hard to take in. I was so sure the
Far Horizon
must have escaped.” She wiped away tears. “I hoped they had anyway.”

He hugged her. “I’m sorry about your friends in the crew. I only worked with them a short time, but they seemed to be a good bunch of people.”

“Yes, even Drewson had his good points. At times. None of them deserved to die in a war.” She shivered as a new realization hit her. “If we’d gone with Drewson when he left Dantaralon, we’d have died too.”

Red tilted her chin, searching her face. “Hey, it wasn’t our time,” he said. “We owe it to Drewson and all the others on the
Far Horizon
to make the best of the time we’ve been given.”

She smiled at him. “Sounds poetic.”

“See the effect you have on me?” He nuzzled her neck.

Peering at the huge ship looming ever larger in the monitors, she said, “You aren’t conscripted to active duty now or something, are you?”

Raising his eyebrows and frowning, he said, “No, why?”

“The shuttle AI called you sergeant, and so did the com tech on the ship we’re docking with.”

“I’m guessing Max had to make a point of my rank as part of his sales job to get us an extraction mission. Trust me, the military does not want me. Command made their decision clear while I was fighting my separation orders.” His face was stern, his eyes hooded.

An old wound, obviously. Meg rested her hand on his cheek. “Hey, remember me?”

Turning his head to kiss her palm, he said, “I’ve been waiting a long time to find you.”

“So, what about that interview for a staff job on the CLC Line you promised me?” She grinned. “I might even break my rules about fraternizing with a fellow crew member.”

“As long as it’s this crew member,” he said, pointing a finger at his chest.

“Who else would it be? Rules are highly overrated, I’ve decided.” She lowered her head to brush his lips with hers. “I hope
Penelope
takes her time with the tractor beam.”

“Military tends to be pretty efficient.”

“Too bad.” Meg sat straighter and smoothed her hair.

“I’ll try to get us quarters together on the
Penelope
,” he promised. “If I mention the Mellurean prophecy a few times, that ought to do the trick.”

“What are the odds CLC would wait a little longer for you to report?” she asked, as there was a loud clang, signifying the shuttle was now inside the battleship and secure.

Head tilted, Red raised his eyebrows. “Maybe for a good enough reason. Why?”

“I’d like to take you home to meet my dad and my brothers. If you’re not too intimidated by the idea?”

“After the Shemdylann, how bad can it be?” He laughed. “I’d face any challenge to please you.”

“Likewise.”

And the first Space Marines through the shuttle doorway cheered and applauded as Meg and Red kissed before leaving the cockpit hand in hand to welcome their rescuers.

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Star Cruise: Marooned
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About the Author

Best Selling Science Fiction & Paranormal Romance author and “SciFi Encounters” columnist for the USA Today Happily Ever After blog, Veronica Scott grew up in a house with a library as its heart. Dad loved science fiction, Mom loved ancient history and Veronica thought there needed to be more romance in everything. When she ran out of books to read, she started writing her own stories.

Married young to her high school sweetheart then widowed, Veronica has two grown daughters, one grandson and cats Keanu and Jake.