44. Chapter Ten
Chapter Ten
L yra
Our gazes lock, then we run in opposite directions. I’m proud to be a part of this group. No one is screaming or crying. The klaxons are clanging and red lights are illuminating the hallways, but we’re all hurrying to do important work. I debate with myself that I should join the fight, but I’m not sure what help I could be, and they haven’t assigned me a station.
I push through the double doors to the engine room to find Savannah already there.
“I can’t give you more power, captain. She’s at full capacity,” she says over her comm.
“We’re caught in a web. They’re pirates by the look of them,” Zar says. “Keep trying to pull away, but I’m afraid we’re about to be boarded.”
“I was hoping you’d come, Lyra,” Savannah says almost absently as she makes adjustments on her screen. “There are laser weapons in that cabinet.” She points, then focuses her attention on the screen. “Grab me a rifle, get yourself a pistol. You know how to use it, right?”
“I’ve had many lessons with Shadow.”
“Good. He’s one of the best. You’re going to stay right there and fetch me anything I require until things go sideways. When I tell you, I want you to crawl into the vent.”
“Okay.”
“Grab yourself an oxygen mask. Put it and the pistol at the vent opening. Move quickly when I tell you because I’ll close the vent behind you as soon as you scramble in.”
I do as I’m told, feeling useless as Savannah fields calls from Zar and the pilots, trying to provide extra power to pull away from the pirates’ web. We’re not budging.
“The pirates won’t respond to our attempt to hail them,” Zar announces through the overhead comm, his voice serious and calm. “We’re about to be boarded. They’re cutting through the hatch now. Any available hands to the boarding area. Bring your weapons.”
I head toward the door, but Savannah says, “Stop,” in her most commanding voice. “You’re not going anywhere Lyra. At least one of us should make it out alive. It might be you. Get in the duct. Now! That’s an order.”
I’m not sure I’m supposed to take orders from her, but I do. I fasten the oxygen mask on my face, grab the laser pistol, and use the chair I pulled over to boost me into the duct. A moment later, Savannah closes the duct behind me, then I hear her drag the chair away.
Although it hasn’t been that long since I last crawled in here, it seems like a lifetime. My heart is pounding and I’m exhaling in shaky little gusts. The lights on my mask illuminate my way as I crawl through the vent on knees and elbows.
Maybe my ears are playing a trick on me because I hear voices from farther down the vent. Just before I get to the area where the vent narrows, I see a vid screen. I had been half joking about installing one, and took Savannah’s response as a hard no. Yet here it is.
There’s no reason for me to crawl deeper into the vent. I’ll watch and listen from here. If the time comes to crawl next to the rotor, I’ll have plenty of notice.
I turn the volume down as far as I can while still being able to hear it over my pounding heart. This isn’t just a vid screen that lets me look into the mech room, it scrolls through cameras throughout the ship.
I can’t bear to watch Savannah anymore, she’s calm and in total control, while I’m just barely holding it together. She told me she was a soldier on Earth. It’s obvious now. When she calls Theos, the male she calls her ‘friend with benefits’, and shares heartfelt goodbyes, I swipe to watch something different. I don’t want to intrude on their private moment.
The screen scrolls through views all over the ship, but I halt it at the boarding area. Most of the gladiators are there already. I’ve known these males for lunars . I’ve seen them spar. But I’ve never seen them like this. Their bodies are taut, ready to spring into action. Each is dripping with weapons and looking toward the doorway, ready for the worst.
Vartan isn’t there. I want to keep scrolling to find him, but my attention is riveted on this. So many of my friends’ lives are at stake.
Even though my volume is on, no one is talking. They’re all waiting for the inevitable as a circle in the metal door darkens. The pirates are cutting their way through our hull. Instead of cutting a doorway so their males can force their way through, they’re simply cutting a hole the diameter of a drinking glass.
As soon as the metallic circle is cut and falls inside the Fool , our enemies throw in a smoking canister. Three additional canisters fall in, all but one spewing gas. Whatever is in the vapor is deadly, because every male in the small boarding area hits the floor with a thud.
I put the monitor on scroll and watch as the gas must travel from room to room through the vents. Within a short while, there isn’t a person moving on the ship. When I look at the feed from the mech room, Savannah is slumped over her control panel.
Am I the only one alive? My heart squeezes in pain and my eyelids flutter closed. I can’t watch for a modicum more. Everyone? Everyone I’ve ever known? Every friend I’ve ever had? My lids fly open as I scroll through every screen, more slowly now, searching for Vartan’s big red and gold body.
There he is, in the hallway outside the boarding area. Evidently, he was there, ready for a second wave. I can barely see him under Theos’s large pale body.
“Vartan,” I whisper into my oxygen mask. Placing my hand on the cold screen, as if I could touch him or wake him is stupid, but I allow it for a moment.
Grief slams through me. How can an emotion give your body excruciating pain? But it does. My heartache is so wrenching, the pain tightens my guts. I want to scream in anguish, but I control myself. I’m alive. How can I stay that way?
When the screen scrolls again, I watch as the pirates finish cutting a person-size hole in the entry hatch and stream through. Males of many races pour through the hole. They’re wearing oxygen masks similar to mine as they step on and over the pile of bodies in the entryway.
They spread out in different directions and pillage through the ship. Keeping the vid on a constant scroll, I see them doing their dirty work in every corner of our vessel. A few steal small items from private cabins, but mostly they seem to be looking for bodies.
Within ten minimas , the enemy has explored the hallways, searched every cabin, and dragged most of the bodies into the dining hall.
The double doors to the engine room burst open and two of the enemy stride straight to Savannah. One of them, a blue Whelpie who looks like he outweighs Vartan by at least fifty rextans , lifts her over his shoulder and carries her out.
I pick up my pistol, point it down the duct, and hold my breath. If they find me, I’ll be dead within a minima . Thank the gods Savannah moved the chair I used to climb in here. There’s no reason for them to investigate my little hidey hole.
When the huge Whelpie leaves the engine room, I sag against the wall behind me and let silent tears snake down my cheeks and pool at the bottom where the facemask cups my chin.
The vid screen shows a cadre of invaders retracing their steps, making certain they’ve found everyone. Others are dragging the males from the entryway to join the rest of the Fool’s crew in the dining hall.
They’ve laid out all the dead on the floor in the room where we share food and camaraderie. Tears are now streaming down my face as I count the bodies. All are accounted for. Everyone dead. Everyone except me.
The duct is barely high enough here for me to tuck my knees against my chest. I circle my arms around my legs and rock as I cry. This is my family and I’ve lost them. What the pirates did was so fast, so efficient, so easy. One moment everyone was awake and living their lives, the next they’re all slumped on the floor.
Whatever these drackers are going to do with the ship, I’ll be dead soon, too. They’ll fly this ship somewhere, or tow it, and I’ll either starve to death in this tiny duct, or I’ll eventually be forced out and shot on sight.
I wish I were still a pet. Then I never would have bonded with all these wonderful people, never would have fallen in love with an amazing male like Vartan, never would have believed for even a modicum that I was strong or smart or capable of anything more than lounging at someone’s feet and being stroked.
Shut the drack up! I hear inside my head. Stop it! You are NOT a pet anymore. Don’t let them die in vain!
I lean closer to the vid screen. Those motherdrackers messed with my friends! I’m going to drack them up!
I watch and listen, my thoughts flying at the fastest speed. What can I do?
“Time?” asks the male in the captain’s chair. He has lavender skin and purple hair.
“I’m checking the air quality sensors now. The gas is ninety-five percent eliminated, but give it five more minimas before you take your masks off,” another pirate’s voice comes over comms. “Even five percent can knock you out.”
A male of the same race is in the second’s chair. I’ve sat there before with Axxios or Braxxus at my side as they taught me the basics of piloting. I order myself not to cry when I think of how calm and supportive they were as they tutored me.
“Arrival on Aeon II?” a harsh female voice asks over the comm.
“Twelve hoaras , Commander Khour.”
“Twelve hoaras exactly ?” she asks.
“Twelve hoaras , eight minimas , four modicums .”
“I am your commander, Ziln. You will treat me with respect and not like an idiot if you wish to avoid punishment. I expect you to give me factual information in a timely fashion. I want specifics, not estimates. Don’t make me remind you again.”
“Yes, Commander.”
“You’ll have to release more canisters of the gas in one hoara if you don’t want these drackers to wake up. All aboard are accounted for?”
“We’ve scoured the ship twice. We’ve dragged them all into the dining hall.”
“My father tasked me with retrieving all his stolen property. That means his slaves and the ship you are piloting. My two brothers are on the same mission, and I want to be the one who succeeds and gets the reward my father promised.
“I want everyone back to our ship except you and Metris on the bridge, and Crix, Wex, and Xix who will stay in the dining hall and make sure none of them have the type of metabolism that counteracts the effects of the gas more quickly than expected.”
“Yes, Commander.”
“We’ll meet you at the slave pens on Aeon II in twelve hoaras . Keep gassing the prisoners every two hoaras . Hertus is looking for a good price for the ship. If we can’t get what it’s worth, we’ll put it in service in the cartel fleet. Out.”
I sag in relief against the wall behind me as I try to calm my trembling hands. They’re not dead? They’re just . . . sleeping? I take a moment to send a sincere prayer of thanks to the heavens, then set my mind to discovering how to get us out of this. All of us.
“One more thing,” the female says. “I want a souvenir. Metris, show me some vid from the dining hall. I want closeups of every male.” Long moments later, she says, “The white one. His biceps are as big around as my waist. Pale skin, thighs like tree trunks. He’ll be fun to play with until I tire of him.”
Theos! It’s not nearly as easy for the blue Whelpie to pick him up as when he slung Savannah over his shoulder. I’m uncertain what the Commander is going to do with him. Whatever it is couldn’t be good.
“Wait! I want the dark one, too. This should be interesting.”
Another of her henchmen hefts Doctoré onto his shoulder and leaves the room.
I want to save everyone, but there’s nothing I can do for these two males.
I can’t think about that right now. I have to figure out how to keep everyone else alive. Watching, I see all the marauding males file off the Fool after patching the entryway hull. I hear the faint grind of metal when their ship detaches from ours and can see through the nav screen on the bridge vid as their ship speeds away.
The pilot called her Commander Khour. That name is familiar. Everyone on board had previously been owned by the MarZan cartel, which until recently was run by an evil male named Daneur Khour. They said a few lunars ago our two ships went to his compound and killed the motherdracker so they could be free of the cartel once and for all. Obviously that didn’t work.
I guess the commander is Khour’s daughter. She sounded like she inherited his personality as well as his name. She must not know he’s dead.
The males on board had created a drinking game. They called the loser of each round a khour. I’d never heard of anyone in the galaxy hated as much as him. It sounded as if he didn’t just torture and make others suffer—he enjoyed it.
We’ve been boarded by the cartel, everyone will be sleeping as we fly to Aeon II, and we’ll be auctioned in the slave pens there. Unless I can think of a way out of this.
I despair for a few minimas , but I have no time to waste. I discard idea after idea. My last meal has turned to acid in my stomach, and a feeling of hopelessness starts to overwhelm me. Nothing I think of will work.
Then I remember that painting in the museum on Hyperion. There was that pet, Lydia, the naked female who single-handedly saved everyone on the ship that had crashed against the rocks. If that pet could do something hard and valiant and seemingly impossible, then I can too.
Visualizing that scene is helping me calm down, and a wave of determination moves through me. I close my eyes and cast my thoughts through the events of the day and watch in my mind from the moment Zar’s deep voice called over the comm and told us to get to our stations. I play it all slowly in my mind, still coming up with nothing until I see the canisters being shoved into the entryway.
One smoking canister, a second smoking canister, a third canister that didn’t smoke, and a fourth smoking canister. Elation races through me so hard and fast I have to curb my urge to shout with excitement.
I watch the screen for a while more, making certain there are only five pirates left on the ship and they’ve all taken off their masks. There are three Frains in the dining area. They’re well-armed and watchful.
It’s not surprising I know their species, they play the villains on many of the vids Master and Mistress enjoyed watching. They’re almost as tall as Vartan, but thin and insectoid with hard outer shells and disgusting mouths that open sideways. I’m not certain it’s true, but the vids showed they could spit corrosive acid up to twenty fiertos .
I’ll have to walk by the clear plas doors to the dining hall to get to the exit area. With three Frains there, the odds are good that at least one of them will be looking toward the doorway. Surely they’ll see me as I try to slip past.
I also realize that since I’ve been watching the scrolling vid of all the areas of the ship, my enemies are probably doing the same thing. It doesn’t matter how quietly I creep, all that has to happen is for one of them to glance at their vid screen as I walk past a camera and I’m dead meat.
I’ll have to wait. Perhaps at least one of the five will nod off. That will be one less pair of eyes able to see me. Or three pairs in the case of the Frains. As I recall they have six eyes each. Yuck.
I review my plan in my mind, refining it with each iteration, but I soon realize I have no more time to wait. I notice a timer is counting down at the bottom of the vid screen. It shows twenty-two minimas.
I will have to do this before the enemy activates more gas canisters or my friends will be knocked out for an extra two hoaras. That will reduce our chances of getting away from Khour’s ship.
The camera on the bridge doesn’t show the faces of the captain and second, it records from behind them and out the front screens. The second may not be asleep, but by his posture, he looks relaxed. Maybe he’s not paying close attention.
When one Frain leans into the corner between the dining hall and the kitchen, folds his hands across his chest, and rests his disgusting chitinous chin on his chest, I decide now is as good a time as any.
After I’ve crawled to the vent’s exit, I realize I can’t just kick it open. It will fall to the floor with a clatter. Having no idea if the pirates turned on the audio on all the vid cameras, I to stick my fingers through the grate, clutch it tightly so it won’t fall, then kick until it loosens from its mooring.
I pull the grate into the duct and leap to the floor. The camera in here points to the screens monitoring the engines. I’m in a blind zone, but I remind myself to stay silent.
The pirates were cocky; they left Savannah’s rifle leaning against her desk. I grab it and sling it over my shoulder, grip my pistol, and pad to the door. Luckily, I recall I’ll need a pair of thin plastic gloves to touch the canisters. The gloves are on top of Savannah’s workstation so Savannah can do greasy work without getting her hands dirty.
I pull the gloves on and leave the relative safety of the engine room. Keeping my back to the hallway walls, I head toward the dining hall. I figure if one of the cartel males casually glances at the scrolling vid screen, they’ll be less likely to catch my movement if I’m hugging the wall than if I’m striding down the center of the hallway.
My breath is coming in sharp terrified rasps as I approach the dining hall doorway. There’s no way to get to the ship’s exit other than past these clear doors.
I’m on the dining hall side of the hallway, which means I must stride directly in front of the open doors, so I cross the hall. There’s no good or easy way to do this, so I throw caution to the wind and move the five fiertos to the other side as surreptitiously as possible.
Clutching my pistol, I just keep walking, my back sliding along the smooth metal as I hold my breath waiting for one of the creepy Frains to burst out of the dining hall and mow me down with laser fire or, what’s possibly worse—acid.
Luck is with me. The ship remains quiet.
When I arrive at the exit bay, I snatch all four canisters from where they’ve rolled on the floor, hold them in the cupped hem of my t-shirt, and slide under the control desk butted up against the wall. It’s dark under here, which will make it hard to examine the canisters, but will also make it hard for the bad guys to spot me.
Now that I look, it’s obvious which canister didn’t explode. Smoke discolored the three spent canisters. One is still shiny. All I have to do is figure out how to activate it.
It doesn’t take a great deal of expertise, thankfully there’s a pull tab on the top. The other three are missing their tab. Looks like the enemy was in too big a hurry to fully tear this one from its mooring. That’s a lucky break. When I was sitting in the duct, I wondered how I’d set it off if it had malfunctioned.
I crawl to the open doorway of the exit bay, pull the tab, and toss the canister as far toward the dining hall as it will go. The sooner the gas gets to its targets, the sooner I’ll be safe.
I wait about five minimas , knowing the gas worked faster than that on every member of the Fool’s crew. When I can’t wait a moment longer, I stand and hurry to the workstation. Scrolling through the vids, I confirm both the pilot and his second are tilted in their chairs, clearly unconscious. All three Frains are sprawled on the floor. Good.
It also means my friends have received a second dose before the first wore off. Hopefully it won’t harm them. Will the gas in one canister have the same effect as three? I can’t think about that, I have to stay focused.
I had mentally rehearsed this. Part of me never even dreamed I’d get this far, but I’d hoped I would, and know just what I need to do now.
I scurry to medbay, grab a new portable oxygen tank, and make the switch. I’ve learned a lot in the last few lunars , but how many minimas each of these tanks will allow a little human female to breathe isn’t one of them and I don’t want to take any chances.
I tried to think of a way to get an oxygen tank on a couple of my crewmates before I ignited that canister, but with three Frains guarding everyone, I knew that wasn’t a choice. It’s just me against Commander Khour. In fact, it’s just me against the entire cartel.
If Lydia could save an entire ship, so can I. This becomes the mantra that bolsters my courage. Off to the ludus .
Considering I knew nothing when I came aboard, I’ve learned a lot. For example, I know never to discharge a laser weapon of any kind inside a space vessel because it can blow a hole in the ship and kill everyone on board. I also know there are workarounds if circumstances are dire. But I never learned what those workarounds were.
So, the best way to dispatch our unwanted friends is the old-fashioned way. In the ludus I grab my favorite longsword. What do I know about longswords, really? Actually, it’s Vartan’s favorite, and since he’s the expert, it’s my favorite, too. Even when I refused to talk to him, I continued practicing until I got pretty handy with one.
I catch my reflection in the shiny metal hallway and almost laugh. There’s little Lyra, oxygen mask on her face, tank clipped to the waistband of her leggings, and a four- fierto longsword in her hand. Although distorted in the metal, I still present a formidable picture. Well, formidable and kind of laughable.
I shake that thought from my head and focus on my strengths. I’m going to do this next part. Even though I’d rather do anything in the universe but this.
After barging through the dining hall doors and confirming there are, indeed, three Frains lying in heaps on the floor, I walk to each of them in turn and sever their heads from their bodies.
Their necks are spindly, but hard to slice clean through. The first took three tries, the second and third were easier. I was told their insides were acidic, it’s why I took the longsword instead of the three- fierto gladius . I wanted to be as far as possible from their caustic innards.
It’s only after I removed all three disgusting heads from all three disgusting bodies that I allow myself to shiver in disgust. Wow, I can’t believe I did it. After releasing the nauseated groan I’d been holding back, I run to the kitchen sink and wash off the specks of pus-colored blood splattered on my legs.
Each fleck ate a hole through my pants, so I tear them off, wash myself down, gulp some water to force down the bile that’s threatening to climb up the back of my throat, and move on to my next task wearing only panties and t-shirt.
I barge into the bridge and am relieved to find both lavender males sprawled in their chairs. They’re as dead to the world as my friends in the dining hall. But they’re going to be a lot deader in a few minimas .
I’m going to have to sit in one of these chairs in a moment, and don’t want to soak in blood, so I use all my might to pull them off their chairs and drag them to the back corner of the bridge where I won’t have to look at them.
I pick up the longsword I had set on the nav desk and approach them. I just killed the three Frains which was disgusting and difficult. I never thought myself capable of such a thing. But they were bugs. These two are humanoid.
Masters don’t teach pets religion. Well, that’s obvious, we’re not taught anything other than enough language to adequately follow commands. I was around Mistress and Master enough, though, to pick up some of their thoughts and beliefs.
They prayed to Sulaymon when they wanted something, and they thanked him when he delivered on their requests. I understood enough to know Sulaymon doesn’t approve of murder.
“I’m sorry, God,” I whisper as I look at the metallic ceiling above me. “I don’t believe in taking lives any more than you do. But I’m going to kill these males because I don’t want them springing back awake and hurting me or my friends. I won’t ask forgiveness. That wouldn’t be fair because I know I’m breaking the rule. I’m going to do it anyway. You can punish me if you must.”
I position myself at the captain’s side, lift my arms over my head, and bring the sword down on his neck with a powerful blow. I use so much force, the sword cuts through his flesh and bone and clangs on the metal floor with a loud clank. Then I perform the same routine on the second. Purple blood sprays hard in four arcs from the severed necks then slows and stops.
I had no idea my body worked this way, but although I haven’t eaten in a day, bile again rises in my throat without warning. The nearest refresher is down the hall, and I have no time for that. I vomit onto one of the males’ headless torsos.
Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I shiver in revulsion. There’s a half-drunk bottle of water at the comms desk. I take a swig and swish, then get back to the task at hand, vaguely noticing my limbs are splattered with drying purple blood.
I’d planned on running back to the dining hall to check on everyone, but now realize I don’t have that luxury. Pretty soon the commander or one of her minions is going to hail the males I just killed. When the cartel ship receives no response, I’m going to be in trouble. Everyone on this ship might die if I don’t figure this out.
After sitting in the captain’s seat, I put the headset on. As I try to remember the Devil’s Playground’s frequency, I freeze. I’d thought this through ten times in the cramped duct. This was the point I was finally going to get some help. I’m glad I didn’t hail the other ship, though. It occurs to me that the cartel ship is probably listening to our frequency. If I call for help, they’ll kill us all.
“What to do?” I ask myself on a shaky exhalation.
I tried to pay attention to my navigation lessons. Braxxus was patient and kind, but my brain just didn’t want to absorb the information. Besides, even if I was good at nav charts, where would I go?
I reach forward and stroke the pilot’s work screen in front of me as if it will give me answers. None are forthcoming.
At first, I run the hyperdrive sequence in my head, then I allow my fingers to trace their pattern on the instrument panel. I may not know where I’m going, but I know how to get there. I have a plan, although it may not be a good one.
I set the instruments to go into hyperdrive. All I have to do now is press one button on the pilot’s screen and we’ll take off in an instant. I even check with the AI. Her female voice confirms I remembered correctly.
One of two things is going to happen next. Either Commander Khour is going to hail one of her lavender subordinates and I’ll push the button and fly into hyperdrive, or one of the males who knows how to navigate this ship will wake up and help me.
With every bone in my body, I want to run to the dining hall and check on all my friends. No, who am I kidding? I want to check on Vartan. What if he doesn’t wake up? What if Dauphusians have some quirk to their metabolism that doesn’t respond to the gas like everyone else and he’s dead?
A bolt of fear slices through me as I wonder if everyone is dead. What if I’ve been acting as if they’re all going to wake up and none of them do?
That’s it! That’s the deciding factor. I kick off my boots so I can run faster and fly out the door and down the hallway. After bursting into the dining hall, I run unerringly to the large red and gold male wearing a loincloth.
I touch my fingers to the artery on his throat like I saw on vids a thousand times, feel his pulse, and lean to kiss his immobile lips. Not having enough time to check everyone, I send a silent apology and run back to the bridge.
“ Fool’s Errand! Fool’s Errand! This is Devil’s Playground . Do you hear us? Fool’s Errand!”
It’s our sister ship, and by the sound of it, they’ve been hailing us during my run.
Can I answer? Drack . What if it’s a trick?
“Zar? Axxios? Braxxus? Callista? What the drack is wrong? This is Beast.”
It’s not a trick. That’s Captain Beast’s voice from the Devil’s Playground . I think I recall learning our two ships have a secret backchannel. I wouldn’t have known what it is, but certainly our comrades do.
I respond on the same frequency.
“It’s Lyra. Can you help?”
While I explain everything that has happened, Captain Beast’s face somehow comes on the screen. He’s a ferocious-looking green male with five metallic rings spanning the bridge of his nose. His eyes are blazing with anger as I explain, but I assure myself he’s mad at the situation, not me.
“Our hyperdrive is offline and being repaired as we speak. We’re a day away by impulse engines and unable to reach you in time, although I wish we could. My pilot, Tyree, and I will stay with you every step of the way. We’ve already changed our course and are heading to meet you near Aeon II.
“Tyree, is going to talk you through changing course for a hyperjump so we know where you will be if you have to engage. Your plan to do so if Khour contacts you is brilliant. I know what gas was used on the crew and they all should wake up fine with no residual effects. We’ll stay with you until they do.
“Lyra, your courage and quick thinking saved them all. Everyone on board owes their life to you.”