212. ReadyNot

212

Ready or Not

M aya

The trip from the armory to a little storage room next to the brig was thankfully uneventful. A’Dar thinks we’re safe here, that when the males are let loose, they’ll be hurrying to the bridge and will have no reason to open this door.

We’re watching the brig’s feed. There are a few of the sharky guys, one of the big gray males with the spikes on his wrists and ankles, some roaches, and a couple of shaggy blues like the female we killed in the kitchen. There are also a bunch of other humanoids, some quite human, some far from it.

I stifle a little shiver when I see two reptilians emerge from their pods. They’re not lethargic like the others, they look refreshed, like they just woke from hibernation, or is it torpor? One of them appears to look directly into the camera. His eyes are dead. Or should I say, deadly?

One male is bigger than the rest. The word gargantuan comes to mind. Out of all the males we’ve seen, this is the only one I think might win against A’Dar in a fair fight. He’s a head taller, his green skin punctuated with red dots. This must be the male who was crammed into his cryo pod when Zedd panned the brig earlier.

“We’ll watch the vid feed,” he says, “when most of the pirates have dispersed, we’ll go in and burn the rest.”

How had I not noticed he has his own flamethrower slung over his left shoulder?

“Why not kill them all? Why wait for some to leave?” Wow, did those bloodthirsty words just blurt out of my mouth?

“The logistics won’t work. See here and here?” He points to the map. “Systems are malfunctioning all over the ship. We must assume Zedd had the biometric palmplates on the brig deactivated and at her control. If they all rush us from these two points of exit, even with our weapons, we won’t be able to defend against all of them. This way, we’ll get a good head start on them, though.”

Some of the pirates’ pods still haven’t opened. It seems we have a bit more time, so A’Dar comms Mel’Kan via text and asks for an update.

By the look on A’Dar’s face as he reads it, it doesn’t look promising.

“‘Just as I expected’,” he reads out loud, “‘we were hit by a cerium electro-pulse. Between that and almost two thousand years of disuse, it’s amazing anything is still running. Luckily, the computer managed to protect itself from the bulk of the damage and has been keeping basic systems running since the crash.’”

“Prognosis!” I demand.

After A’Dar types in the question, we wait a moment, then he reads the response.

“‘I give you no promises, but we may have hope’.”

“Hope,” I say, laying my hand on A’Dar’s wrist. “That’s better than hopeless, right?”

“Yes, my heart. Yes.”

“As long as we have time, comm Ran and Emily,” I suggest.

“I’m asking for an update,” he says as he types on his wrist-comm.

There’s a long pause before he gets a response. If the long pause wasn’t a dead giveaway, A’Dar’s deep, agonized exhale tells me all I need to know.

“He can’t hail our planet.”

I imagine the poor guy’s heart is cracking apart. Although if I live, I’ll never see my planet again, at least I’ll know all my friends and family are alive and well without me. For him to know his entire species is gone? This must be tearing him up inside.

I tuck myself closer and pet his skin as his mind tries to wrap around the news that, except for the males on board this ship, his entire species might be gone.

As I watch the vid feed, I suddenly realize we’re probably being watched. Sure enough, when I glance at the corners of the ceiling, I see the small red eye of a camera.

“We’re sitting ducks,” I whisper, then correct the idiom I doubt he’s familiar with. “Every remaining female merely has to scroll through her feed to see us.”

“Aye,” he whispers as he shakes his head, trying to bring his thoughts to the present. “But we’re armed, Maya. And prepared for all comers. If they barge in, we’ll kill them. If they don’t, we’ll emerge at the perfect moment. I will turn right and kill any pirates who are remaining in the brig. You’ll put your back against mine and defend from behind.”

“Okay. After that?”

“We slide back into this room, scroll through to find more of our enemy, and prepare our next attack.”

“You’ve trained your whole life for this,” I whisper. A few hours ago, I would have whined this statement. Now it’s just mentioned as a fact.

“Aye, and you just woke up into it. You know what, Maya? I’d never know it. I’d never know that less than a day ago you were a civilian. You are rising to the challenge. It makes me proud to call you my mate.”

There are so many things wrong with his last statement. From his pride in me for not melting into a puddle of sadness to his use of the word “mate.” It shouldn’t affect me. If anything, it should infuriate me. But damned if it doesn’t make me feel all warm and gooey inside.

I step into his embrace and can’t control the urge to lick his gorgeous skin.

“Okay. Let’s wait until the right moment. And then I guess we’ll kill some alien dudes,” I say, like I’m a combination of Trinity from the Matrix and Ripley in Alien . I never aspired to be a badass, but ready or not, here I come.

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