Dark Ice (Mercenaries Book 2) Page 12

  "Why—” Phyla coughed. "Why are you doing this?"

  Bakr paused outside the shuttle door, blinked at her. A guard handed Bakr a fork and he pointed it towards Phyla, pushed the trigger. Phyla ducked, and the bolts flew over her, striking the shuttle's small control console, which fizzled and went dark.

  "The same reason as you," Bakr said. "Survival."

  Bakr slapped a button on the outside keypad and the airlock. The shuttle's interior lights came on, a clean white light, and a voice warned Phyla to strap in. Two seconds later, thrust pressed Phyla into her seat as the shuttle blasted off of the freighter and towards the cold dark of Neptune.

  34

  Hunted

  Her body didn't wait till the pain vanished to wake her up. Opal blinked her eyes open to a blurry world and shut them again. Not ready yet. Only, she didn't have a choice, did she? In scattered fragments, the shuttle's ambush, the mining laser, the call of Viola's bot Puk to jump. Disaster.

  "Where?" Opal breathed, eyes opening again and taking in the hallway, the shut door to the risen bay next to her.

  Someone had brought her here. Left her. And without a weapon. In between the paralyzing moments of headache, Opal shifted to a crouch and checked her pockets. The only thing she had left was the trusty beam knife strapped to her inner thigh. Still dangerous.

  A faint noise from the hallway. Voices. Followed by a clanging thud as someone, something hit the ground. Heavy and metal. Opal held her breath, listened.

  "Take him down," A voice said.

  "How d'you expect me to do that? Carry him?"

  "See that suit? It'll protect him for a story. Just drop the bastard."

  Suit. Opal didn't recognize the voices, which meant these probably weren't friendlies. Davin and Mox wouldn't have left her alone anyway. And if they had Mox, then they'd probably come looking for her. Opal turned to the control panel and slapped the down arrow. No idea what it did, but anything was better than staying here.

  "I'll say you told me to, he gets killed," The second voice continued.

  On the other side of the door, the Karat rumbled. Levers shifting a lot of weight and grinding passed each other. It needed to move faster.

  "Doesn't matter to me."

  "But it might to Bakr."

  Bakr. Oh, that name. That name rang a bell.

  The sounds grew louder, hissing joining in as valves released pressure. The noise churned through the hallway, picking up echoes along the walls. Opal tried to forge her way past the noises, past the headaches. Bakr. The name brought with it swirling red sands. A list of targets.

  "Someone's lowering the bay," The voice broke her concentration, it was closer now. "Quick, drop him then catch up to us."

  Focus, Opal. Time for memories later.

  Flattening herself against the door, Opal kept her eyes glued to the corner of the hallway. What she needed now was an excess of caution. You don't know what's around this corner, guys. Take it real slow. The voices stopped talking. Probably realized that it was bad form to sneak up on someone while running your mouth.

  The door dinged behind Opal, then shot up. Opal nearly fell over, back-pedaling to keep from meeting these guys on her back. Once she'd picked up her balance, Opal ran to her left, out of sight of the hallway. In front of her, the shuttle's wreckage sat in pieces. The bay.

  "Hey, hey!" Came a whirring noise. "You're awake!"

  "Puk?" Opal said, looking up and seeing the bot hovering above her. "Quick, where's a weapon?"

  "You want Davin's shotgun? It's over here," Puk buzzed across the bay, towards the shuttle's aft. The opposite way Opal had gone. She would not risk cutting in front of that hallway again. Instead, she made her way over to the shuttle's nose, still pointed up from the imbalance caused by the mining laser. At least there was a strut here to duck behind.

  Opal saw hallway's edge, the opening to the bay. A second after she peered out from behind the strut, a body, then two, both wearing heavy welding suits, walked in. They were holding small sidearms, but holding them with both hands, each one looking a different direction. Whatever their outfits, they were armed heavy for mechanical work. The two of them weren't moving fast, taking their time in the middle of the hallway. If she'd had her rifle, they would have been easy targets.

  "Split," One welder said. His suit lacked the spots and tears marring the second's outfit, and his voice matched the one giving the orders. Without thinking, Opal dubbed him Alpha and the other Beta. The same style of designations they gave targets on Mars.

  Alpha broke towards the aft of the shuttle while Beta cut to the nose. In a few seconds, Beta would either see Opal or step on her. When that happened, Opal would have a hot second of surprise to get that beam knife into Beta's face.

  "Hey - what's that?" Beta said, pausing in his approach to look up in the air. "It's a bot!"

  Opal tracked Beta's look and saw Puk hovering above the shuttle.

  "You want to know who's in here?" Puk buzzed, its voice turned up so it filled the bay. "Because I'll tell you, if you promise not to blow me up."

  "Hear that?" Alpha said to Beta. "We got ourselves a bot with a self-preservation instinct. So talk, bot. We won't torch you."

  Their eyes were on Puk, so Opal slipped between the strut and the body of the shuttle. Visible for a moment, Opal pressed herself against the shuttle's body and took a breath. Puk was rambling above her, talking about Davin and Viola, and some crazy story about them jumping out of the bay with suits on. Opal inched closer to the split part of the shuttle where aft and bow crumpled together.

  "But it sounded like someone just came in here," Alpha said. "The door just opened a minute ago."

  "All me, I'm afraid," Puk said. "Brought the bay down to pick up my friend, the one with the exoskeleton?"

  Opal peeked through the hole between the shuttle's sides. Nobody there. Another quick step and she was by the aft section. There, just past the engines, laying on the floor, was Davin's favorite shotgun. Why would the captain have left it here? It made little sense. Whatever the reason, Opal mouthed a silent thank you and picked up the weapon, slipping the beam knife into a slot on her belt.

  Puk must have been keeping a mechanized eye on Opal's progress, because as soon as she had the shotgun in her hands, the bot floated towards the door.

  "There was one other person," Puk said. "But she went with Mox, the metal man."

  "Then maybe she's back here," Alpha said. "Bot, if you're trying to mess with us, you will be scrap before you can fly yourself away."

  Puk protested as Opal made her way back across the shuttle's other side. Too far away for Melody. Their sidearms had more range, they'd fillet her if she went into the open. It was either through the shuttle wreck, or back around the nose.

  "I think this bot's playing us, boss," Beta said. "There's nobody back down that hallway. It's a dead-end."

  "Last chance, bot," Alpha said. "Where are they?"

  No time. Opal stepped through the wreckage of the shuttle. Too many broken bits of metal meant she couldn't run through, finger on the trigger blasting away. Almost there, Puk. Keep stalling.

  "Okay. You got me," Puk said. "It's my programming, you know? Can't fight it. Have to protect my owners."

  Opal didn't see the shot, didn't hear the sidearm, but she saw Puk crash to the ground and roll a few feet, sparks popping off in all directions as its circuitry fried.

  "You just got your own bot fried!" Alpha yelled. "Now c'mon out and I promise we won't do the same to you."

  Opal leaned out of the shuttle, shotgun pointed towards the pair, and pulled the trigger. Six green balls of flaming energy shot out towards Beta and Alpha, who took a step out of the way before the balls rammed their suits. Opal chased after her own shots, watching as the balls burst apart on Beta and Alpha. The flames crawled around the thick armor but the shotgun's energy didn't appear to be burning through. That didn't mean it was worthless.

  Sticking her left foot and and turning her right shoulder, Opal
swung the shotgun like a bat. Beta, still wreathed in the green flames and flailing, didn't even try to dodge the strike. Probably didn't see it coming. The shotgun smashed into his head, the rubber-like helmet doing nothing to soften the blow. The man crumpled to the ground and Opal pivoted, readying the shotgun for another swing.

  Alpha, still burning, was ready for it. His left hand caught the shotgun as Opal pulled it back up and ripped it from her hands, throwing it across the bay floor. Alpha's right arm, holding the sidearm, came up towards Opal's chest. Opal let her legs slip out from under her and, as Alpha fired, dropped to the ground. The stunning blast flew over her head as Opal kicked her right foot up into Alpha's groin. He, left hand moving to shield, and stepped back, sidearm waving for another shot.

  Opal curled her abdomen and somersaulted forward, left hand grabbing the beam knife out of her belt as she rolled. Alpha, still back-pedaling, pointed the sidearm at Opal as she finished the move. Opal lanced out with the beam knife, swinging towards the sidearm as Alpha pulled the trigger. The sidearm exploded, the focused energy released as the sliced front half fell. The force blew the beam knife out of her hand, launching it across the bay. Released stunning force washed over Opal and pushed her to the floor, numbing her left arm. Alpha stared as his ruined weapon, any facial expression hidden by that helmet, and then threw it away.

  "Know what's funny?" Alpha said to Opal, still on the ground. "We weren't supposed to kill anyone on this job. It would put blood on the product."

  "Then what the hell are you doing?"

  "You don't work for Eden, do you?" Alpha continued.

  Trying to back herself up, Opal's feet pushed against the smooth floor. Alpha followed, loomed over her. His hands low, arms ready to block a kick. The problem here was leverage, a chance to stand up. If Opal didn't find some soon, she was dead.

  "Does it look like I do?" Opal said.

  "It doesn't. Which means nobody's going to care if I smash your face in," Alpha said.

  Opal felt the shuttle behind her, hard against her back. Nowhere to run. Alpha drew his fist back, and Opal braced herself.

  35

  Cargo Hold

  The tether's blue line buried itself into the black void a few meters into the distance. It went forward, then the tether slanted and disappeared as it went over the Karat's aft edge.

  "So the plan is I descend the tether to you, then we detach and reel it in?" Davin said for the third time.

  Not that he was afraid. Definitely not. He'd been shot at, stabbed, on a ship ready to explode in space. He just didn't want to fall into Neptune's miserable sky. He'd get what, a few minutes of falling before the core melted him to pieces? Or maybe the swirling wind would pick him up and whip Davin around with such high speeds that his suit would rip and he'd freeze. A human icicle surfing Neptune's atmosphere.

  "Right. You will adjust your latch. Loop the tether through your suit, rather than hooking it on. That way you'll be able to slide along it," Viola's comm was fuzzy, punching through the Karat's hull and Neptune's cloudy air to get to Davin. "Should be easy."

  Easy. Gunfights were easy. Talking down over-confident jerks over payment was easy. Davin grabbed the tether, anchored on the hull, and popped it loose. The cable went green. Davin loosened his latch, allowing it to slide along the tether. He ran the line back and forth, confirming it moved easily.

  "Next time this happens, it's Mox's turn," Davin said.

  "Captain, are you nervous?"

  "Thing about being the captain, Viola, is that it's your job to understand the ins and outs of every situation," Davin said.

  "But you let me go without asking anything."

  "Thing about being the captain, Viola, is that you have to trust your crew to do their job,"

  Viola's sigh came over the comm. No sense of humor.

  Sealing the tether back to the hull changed the color back to that secure, calm blue. Davin followed that light, hands touching the tether, letting the coil run through his fingers, and then gripped as his feet slipped. When the drop-off came, Davin slid over and dropped. Wind blasted harder here, dangling from the coil. The darkness hid his speed - Davin judged when to grip the tether based on his stomach dropping, depending on the suit's gloves to keep the friction from burning his hands.

  The coil curved back under the hull's outcropping. Davin risked a glance back, that blue lifeline extending up behind him, like a mystic cable to a god. You see most of the planets in the solar system, sunsets on the outskirts of Jupiter, and a million other wonders, but that simple sapphire curl going into the blustery dark took its place high on his list.

  "I think I'm gonna make it," Davin commed, sliding along the more level tether.

  "Were you worried?"

  "Definitely not."

  Dropping into the actual intake of the Karat was a non-event. From one level of dark to another. Feeling his feet on something real again had Davin breathing easier. Space-faring mercenary or no, there wasn't much to compare with solid footing. Not to mention seeing Viola, another person, after the last hour walking alone through the Neptune night. The girl was already retracting the tether. The color went from blue, to green, to orange as Viola wound it up.

  "Ought to get one for the Jumper," Davin said.

  "Bet you could keep this one," Viola said. "That shuttle doesn't exactly need it anymore."

  "Look at you, keeping your eyes out for freebies. Might make it on this crew yet."

  Davin walked up the intake while Viola finished coiling the tether. It felt strange walking into a hostile environment without Melody and her protection, but he'd have to grab the shotgun later. Too much risk of an untimely fire when bouncing along the tether. So here he was, dependent on his old hands and feet if a hijacker showed.

  But nobody did. Davin walked through the narrowing intake until he arrived at the gate. There wasn't anything Davin could see outside it. No panels, only hard metal plates. He'd seen enough ships to know that this was where the raw material would come through. It'd only open if the Karat went into mining mode.

  "Ideas?" Davin asked as Viola walked up behind him.

  "There's no emergency access?" Viola said, looking around the door. "I can't imagine . . . for repairs, they ought to have a release? All of my dad's ships, the ones Galaxy Forge makes, have them."

  "Maybe Eden's got another contractor." Davin said. The implications weren't great. No way in meant they were stuck here, their oxygen dwindling. And if hijackers decided to bring the Karat out of orbit, then the two of them would be so, so very cooked. They needed help.

  Davin looked at his comm. Scanned for frequencies. Mox and Opal didn't pop. The Karat's hull too thick. Then a static burst filled his suit, the same cascade of sounds from before, when they were landing. Opal had said it wasn't just noise, though.

  "Viola, that message? The one we intercepted when we got close?"

  "The one telling us to run?"

  "Where'd it come from? What spot?"

  "I don't know. It was a wide-range broadcast. I wasn't exactly focused on tracing it," Viola said, continuing to poke at the door. "I'd try the bridge."

  "I t'd be the most secure spot," Davin nodded. "One guy in a chokepoint could hold out for a long time."

  Davin tapped on his comm, trying to find the message's source. Neptune's atmosphere had little in the way of satellites to guide the comm in its choice, so Davin's comm could only give a general direction. A dot in a three-dimensional sphere appeared on the comm's small screen, with green colors shading likely sources for the broadcast. Using the space suit's gloves, Davin traced the path he wanted to send the transmission.

  "Hello? Is anyone receiving this?" Davin sent.

  "Who are you talking to?" Viola asked.

  "Don't know yet," Davin replied, and listened.

  "Yes," Came back a minute later. Probably debating whether it was a good idea to talk. It was scratchy, the signal losing definition as it cascaded back through the Karat's hull. "Who is this?"

>   "Your rescue team. Who is, uh, in need of rescuing," Davin said. Sure there was a chance it was a hijacker, but what did Davin have to lose?

  "Gage sent you?" This time the reply was instantaneous.

  "Sort of," Davin said. "More like, Gage's boss sent us."

  "Good, because Gage is a traitor."

  "Interesting," Davin said while doing all kinds of mental gymnastics. Traitor to who? Could be either the hijackers, Eden, or something outside either one. Better to keep the guy on the line by being agreeable. "I'd love to chat about that more in person."

  "Where are you?"

  "Actually, and this might sound weird, but stick with me, we're in your cargo intake." Davin said. "And by that I mean we're locked out of your hold. Seems like you have an infestation of the armed and dangerous kind, and we didn't want to walk right into their arms."

  "So you want in the hold?"

  "That's the idea, yes."

  "Once you get in, there's not many options for getting here. They all lead through the cafeteria, where the traitors have set themselves. Find another way. Send another communication when you reach the bridge, and we will talk again."

  A second later the intake's door shunted open, the body tilting outward, forcing Viola to step back. On the other side sat a small tunnel. They'd have to crawl. Deep inside, Davin could make out a glow, blue-white, diffuse. Great. Something else he didn't understand.

  36

  To the Rescue

  The shuttle turned and tumbled, twisting Phyla in her straps as she tried to restart, tried to get anything out of the shuttle's console. Nothing responded. The flight stick stuck. The screen stayed blank. And out the front viewport, Neptune loomed larger and larger.

  There was only one tool left.

  “Gage,” Phyla said into her comm, flipping the transmitter to the captain's signal. She'd only have a minute until they were too far apart for the comms to work, but there was a chance that Gage could capture the shuttle. Either through a remote takeover, or salvaging equipment meant to latch on and pull metals in from distance.