The Starhawk Chronicles Page 9

  They could see out the viewport, the Dancer, adrift in space. Like a pack of hungry briar wolves smelling blood, the remaining gunboats were moving in for the kill.

  “Bring us in closer,” K’Tran said. “I’ll give her cover fire.”

  “Belay that order,” Jesse said. All eyes turned to face him, and he met them all in kind before answering. “We didn’t ask for her help.”

  K’Tran was out of his seat. “What the hell’s the matter with you, boy? If Karson hadn’t come along, we’d probably be in her boots right now! Or worse, blown to ash like the Dark Blood!”

  Jesse looked away, fixing his gaze out the viewport. His voice was icy as he replied, “She knew the risks when she got into this business.”

  K’Tran pulled Jesse out of his seat and backhanded him across the jaw. Jesse sprawled across the deck. K”Tran turned to Bokschh. “Bring us in closer,” he ordered.

  Jesse rose, reaching for one of his sidearms, forgetting in the heat of the moment that he was not wearing them. His eyes burned daggers at K’Tran. The older man turned with a look of both sympathy and intolerance. He spoke slowly. “We owe her.”

  Jesse glared at K’Tran a full five seconds longer, then straightened and retook his seat. “You better get back in the gun chair. We’re not out of this yet.”

  K’Tran nodded and did as he was told.

  “Podo,” Jesse said, all hostility now gone from his voice. “Patch me through to Karson.”

  The line was established and Jesse cut through the formalities. “Karson, this is Forster. You have to get out of there. Your engine core is going critical. Stand by and we’ll bring you aboard.”

  Static crackled over the speakers before Karson’s voice came through. “I’d love to accommodate you, Captain, but in the time it takes for you to dock with my ship and link airlocks, the Nexus will blow us both to Hell.”

  “We’re not going to dock. Get to your escape pod. We’ll pick you up.”

  There was a pause on the other end. “Escape pod?” For the first time, Jesse thought he heard some of that brazenness fade from her voice. “No thanks. With all those fighters in the air, I’d be a sitting yammosk. I’m not having my atoms scattered all over space.”

  Jesse slapped a hand to his face in exasperation. “You don’t have much choice. They’ll be scattered when your ship blows anyway. Just trust me on this. Stand by.”

  He cut the transmission before she had a chance to protest further. Turning to Podo, he asked, “Do you remember fishing trips on the Calamir River?” Podo nodded, though it was evident from the look on his face that he did not fully understand what Jesse was getting at. “Same concept. Get to the cargo bay and get the outer hatch opened.”

  Podo hurried from the bridge. “Bokschh, I want you to target our tractor beam on Karson’s pod the moment it ejects from her ship. We’re only going to have one chance at this, so be ready.”

  “Acknowledged, Captain.”

  “K’Tran, keep those fighters off our back until we can get her out of there.”

  “Always do,” K’Tran began laying down a constant spray of fire, striking a glancing blow to one of the gunboats. The fighter tumbled end over end until it collided with one of its companions and the two disintegrated.

  *

  Karson unstrapped herself from her seat and made ready to evacuate the Dancer. Despite her misgivings, she knew Forster’s plan was the only way she was going to make it out of this fracas with any hope of survival.

  She looked around the Dancer’s darkened cockpit with a great sense of loss. She had loved this ship like a living thing, and it hurt to know it was dying. It had been home to her for the last year. She felt tears welling up, biting her lip to fight them back. “OAT, you still with me?” she asked her voice shaking as she grabbed her weapons belt from the back of her seat.

  “S-stilll heerrrreee Missstresss,” OAT slurred, his voice two octaves lower than usual. She had considered doing a quick dump of his memory core, but it was apparent OAT was as far gone as the ship. “Y-youu shhould go. Th-thirty secondsss to corrrre brrr...brrr..brreach.”

  Placing a hand on the dimming monitor, she felt tears threaten again; letting them come now. “It’s been an honor, OAT.”

  “The honorrrr was alll mine, Misssstress K-kaylaaa,” OAT trilled back. His monitor went black.

  Karson lingered two seconds more, then made for the escape pod.

  *

  The Starhawk cruised in over the broken hull of the Nebula Dancer just as the hatch covering the escape pod bay blew off and sailed past within meters of striking the bridge, then the ship was out of sight beneath them.

  Over the speakers, Karson spoke one word, “Ejecting.”

  Bokschh had targeted the pod the instant it left the safety of the Dancer’s hull, but even the drone’s precision timing was not quite enough. The Starhawk shook with an impact tremor.

  “What was that?” Jesse asked, knowing, but not really wanting to hear the answer for himself.

  “Miss Karson’s pod contacted the hull just before the tractor beam locked on,” Bokschh reported. “Damage to our outer hull should be minimal.”

  What about the damage to Karson’s pod? Jesse wondered. The mental image of Karson flattened to cartoonish two-dimensions against Starhawk’s hull raced through his brain. If we went through all this trouble just to kill her ourselves . . .

  “I’ve got Miss Karson!” Podo called over the speakers, detouring Jesse’s train of thought.

  Jesse breathed an inward sigh of relief. “Bokschh, get us clear,”

  Starhawk angled up and away from the Nebula Dancer. A gunboat turned to give pursuit, passing over the Dancer just as the engine core blew. In a flash, both ships vaporized.

  Starhawk reeled as the shockwave struck, but its shields held and it rode the current until it subsided. Jesse, knuckles white from gripping the armrests of his chair, said, “Let’s finish this now.”

  “The two remaining fighters are turning away. Heading back for the corvette,” Bokschh said.

  Jesse shook his head. “They don’t get away. After them.”

  *

  “The Starhawk is pursuing our last two fighters,” Charris reported. “Heading this way.”

  “And so this battle ends,” Rahk replied. “Prepare to make the jump out of the system.”

  “What about our fighters? What about Forster?” Kahr asked, rising from his seat.

  “Our fighters are expendable,” Rahk’s voice was calm and even, considering how the tide of battle had so abruptly turned against them. He looked on his brother as an unruly schoolchild, growing tired of having to constantly explain his decisions. “Forster will have to wait. By now the refueling station has signaled for reinforcements. There is probably a star cruiser on its way as we speak. And we have no weapons with which to combat the Starhawk.”

  “We are still larger! We put all power to our forward shields and ram Forster’s ship!” Kahr said. “The Starhawk is crippled. She is no match.”

  Rahk took his time in replying. He sat in his chair, his eyes trained on Kahr with a cool and calculating gaze. Kahr began to fidget, clearly discomfited by the lack of a response. “This is still my command, Kahr,” Rahk said. “I am not willing to risk this fine warship given to us by our benefactor in order to feed your bloodlust. We have delayed Forster. His ship is in no condition to give pursuit. We now have time to muster our forces for one final, glorious battle.”

  “But Forster . . .”

  “Will die,” Rahk finished for his brother. “And you and I will savor our victory over him, Brother. But we do it my way.”

  Kahr stormed off the bridge. Rahk turned back, sharing a look with Charris, then ordered him to engage the hyperdrive.

  *

  “The corvette is making its jump. The two remaining fighters are signaling surrender,” Bokschh reported.

  “Forget the fighters,” Jesse replied. “I want that corvette.”

  “We’re not goin
g anywhere,” Kym said, swiveling her seat to face him. “We need to make repairs. Make a jump now, and we’ll be spread all over the starlanes.”

  Sighing, Jesse slumped into his seat. “Just how bad off are we?”

  Kym consulted her display, and began counting the facts off on her fingers. “First, the jump engines are offline. There are hairline fractures in the primary and secondary intercooler arrays. The long-range sensor package is out. No surprise there. The jump computer’s offline and we need to seal that hull breach before we go any further. Plus we’ve got a number of smaller systems that need repairs.”

  Jesse rubbed his temple with one hand and his aching jaw with the other. “What kind of delay are we looking at?”

  Jesse could tell Kym was working the numbers around in her head when she did not answer immediately. “If we have the necessary replacement parts, and if everyone gives me a hand, and if the Melarii government is generous enough after we saved their fuel depot to let us dock in one of their bays to make the hull repairs . . .” A shorter pause this time. “Maybe, maybe eighteen hours at the least. And that is a very conservative estimate.”

  “You’ve got twelve,” Jesse answered. “Just repair the hull breach and the essential systems. I don’t think it will matter if we have to go a few days with the cargo bay lighting out or the entertainment systems offline.”

  “Jesse, the Melarii star cruiser Windward has just come out of hyperspace,” K’Tran said, having moved from the gun chair to Podo’s communication station. “They’re asking if we need assistance.”

  “Good,” Jesse said. “There’s a better chance that they’d have the type of parts we need. Return the signal and let them know that their offer is welcome and accepted.” K’Tran began relaying the message. Jesse turned back to Kym. “Soon as we’re docked, take anyone you need and get started on those repairs. I want to be on the trail of that corvette in exactly twelve-and-a-half hours. In the meantime, I’m going back to have a little talk with our new guest.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The hatch to the cargo bay opened, and Jesse nearly collided with Kayla Karson as Podo escorted out her.

  “Captain,” she acknowledged. Though she looked a little shaken, she still favored him with an endearing smile. “My thanks for a timely rescue. That was quite a ride.”

  Jesse stared at her for a long moment. When they had first met back in the sewer, the light had been poor and his head still foggy from his encounter with Ho’jisk’s fist. Now he found himself stunned. He had not realized what an attractive young woman his rival was. Her blonde hair hung straight to her shoulders, and her bright, alert eyes were an amazing amber-gold. She wore a sleeveless, padded jumpsuit that did nothing to hide her lithe figure, and the confident air she projected made her appear taller than her five-foot-two height. Even with her face soot-streaked and a rather nasty purplish bruise forming on her left temple, Jesse thought she was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen.

  A pang of guilt at finding himself attracted to another woman so soon after Lohren’s death forced him to focus on the current situation. “You’re welcome,” he replied after an awkward pause. “Only fitting though, since you pulled our fat out of the fire to begin with.”

  She smiled again, and Jesse found it disturbing how seductive that smile was. “That’s twice. You still owe me for New Providence.”

  Annoyed with what he took to be cockiness on her part, Jesse felt himself go slightly flush. “You evened up that score when I let you take the bounty on Ho’jisk.” All business now, all thought of attraction gone, he looked to Podo standing behind her. “Take Miss Karson to the med-bay and tend to her injuries. Then as soon as we dock with the Windward, get her off my ship!”

  To emphasize his dismissal of her, he turned to stalk off down the corridor. Kayla grabbed his arm and spun him back around to face her.

  “Let’s get something straight, Captain Kid!” She stabbed a finger into his chest, taking a measure of satisfaction from seeing him ruffle at the nickname. “I lost a damn good ship helping to save your egotistical ass. I put almost everything I had into the Dancer, and until I get back my investment, I’m gonna be with you every step of the way. Like it or not, you’ve got yourself a new partner!”

  Her explosion over as quickly as it had begun, Kayla turned to Podo and asked sweetly, “Now, would you be so kind as to escort me to your med-lab?”

  Jesse wanted to retort, had to retort, but was speechless. Podo’s response was a helpless shrug as he passed, leading her away.

  Jesse stood in silence another full minute before he found he could move again. Wandering down the corridor, he found himself in the engineering compartment. K’Tran and Kym were at work removing access panels to get at the intercooler arrays. Jesse walked past without acknowledging their presence over to a tool cart and kicked it over, sending tools and parts flying across the room. His anger still unsated, he turned to the nearest bulkhead and began punching it until his knuckles turned bloody. With a final, disgusted groan, he rested his head against the wall.

  “Something troubling you?” K’Tran asked.

  *

  “So what’s his problem?” Kayla asked as she followed Podo into med-lab. She went to a mirror and inspected the bruise above her eye.

  “Jesse’s got a lot on his mind,” Podo said indifferently, moving to the bed where Morogo lay. The Vor’na’cik was just coming around, blinking his eyes in the harsh light, and giving Podo a quizzical look. Podo smiled at his friend and passed a medical scanner over him.

  “Welcome back to the land of the living. You’ve been out a while. Missed all the fun,” Podo said. He noticed Morogo looking over his shoulder at Kayla. “I’ll explain later.”

  Morogo nodded and swung off the bed after Podo had released his restraints. He caught himself as his legs buckled unsteadily for a moment, then straightened.

  “Jesse says you can help with repairs if you’re up to it,” Podo said.

  The Vor’na’cik nodded his understanding, then began to move slowly out of the med-lab. He gave Kayla a glance, then went out the door without any further delay.

  “Not one for small talk, is he?” Kayla took a chair offered by the Warwick.

  “He’s Vor’na’cik. They don’t speak much to begin with.” Podo began to inspect the bruise on her forehead, holding the medical scanner over the purplish welt. “I don’t pretend to understand that much about his race. All I know is that there’s some religious reason behind it.”

  “Has something to do with the destruction of their homeworld,” Kayla said. “Must be difficult to serve with someone like that.”

  “Tell me about it. I share a cabin with him, but we get by. Besides, Morogo’s not totally mute. He does talk to Jesse.”

  Kayla shook her head. “Why am I not surprised? And why exactly does Forster rate such an honor?”

  Podo looked sheepish. “Wish I knew. One day about four years ago, Jesse just shows up with Morogo in tow. The both of them looked like they’d been through a shredding machine, all bloody and bruised, and Jesse announces that Morogo was signing on with us. I’ve tried asking Jesse what happened that day, but he won’t say a word.”

  As his words trailed off, Podo suddenly seemed to realize he was still holding the medical scanner. He grinned feebly and resumed his inspection of her wound.

  Kayla let the subject drop. “I notice you don’t call Forster Captain,” She winced as Podo accidentally brushed her bruise with one stubby finger.

  Podo made a quick apology, then shrugged. “We’re not real formal here.” He paused to check the scanner’s readout, and his large, dark eyes brightened a bit. “No concussion. That’s good. I can get this fixed right up.”

  He crossed the room to a cabinet on the next wall and pulled out a dermal regenerator. Turning back to Kayla, he played the conical instrument slowly up and down over the welt, nodding with satisfaction as the skin began to fade back to its normal tone.

  “As far bac
k as I can recall, he’s never had me call him that,” the Warwick said, taking a step back. “All done.”

  Kayla rose and went back to the mirror. She smiled, pleased to see no residual blemishing of the skin. “So just what makes you more special than the others?”

  Podo was putting the equipment back on their respective shelves, and did not bother looking back in her direction as he replied. “I guess being his brother has something to do with it.”

  Kayla’s jaw dropped several centimeters as she stared at him. He had turned back to her, and she could tell he was enjoying her reaction. “He’s your what?”

  “My brother,” Podo replied. “Adoptive brother, actually. His folks took me in when I was still a newborn pup.”

  Kayla raised an eyebrow, genuinely intrigued now, and asked, “What happened to your real family?”

  The Warwick paused, and she could tell he was wondering just how much he should be telling her. Finally, as seemed to be his custom, he gave a small shrug and asked, “Ever hear of the Star of Corrill?”

  Now it was Kayla who paused a moment, searching her memory. “I have. Wasn’t that the starliner that struck a rogue asteroid years ago?”

  “That’s right,” Podo poked a stubby thumb at his chest. “You’re looking at the only survivor.”

  “I heard there were no survivors.”

  “Aside from myself, there were none. After hitting the asteroid, the ship was thrown out of hyperspace into the Drellis system. My mother and father at least, —I assume that’s who it was— got me into an escape pod and launched me just before what was left of the ship was pulled into Drellis Major’s gravity field and burned up in the atmosphere. The Starhawk was one of the first rescue ships on the scene and intercepted my pod. Jesse’s father—our father―Thom, was in command then.”

  Podo fell silent again. Kayla was surprised that such a quiet and peaceable being had found his way into such a violent profession. She was about to tell him he did not have to continue, when he did exactly that.