Frost Station Alpha 1-6: The Complete Series (33 page)

“You knew I couldn’t give up,” he said quietly, apologetically.

Tamryn was in no mood for an apology. “You gave me your word that you wouldn’t try to escape.”

“Until the spill had been dealt with.”

“It’s hardly been
dealt
with. Just because the decon cubicle irradiated your foot doesn’t mean Porter will be able to apply that to the entire lab before it grows so big that it’s eating through the floors of the station all the way to the hull.”

“The pirates were dead. I’d done what I promised to do. You know I didn’t give you my word to let you stick me back in that vault.”

Tamryn gritted her teeth and looked away, though there wasn’t much to look at. The mining ship wasn’t much larger than a combat shuttle. It had seats for a small crew in the small bridge area, and most of the back, which she had been carried through on the way in, was a cargo area for housing machine parts and collected ore. Now, it was full of crates of food that Makkon’s people had found and stolen from the station sometime during their invasion. Given the story he had told her about starvation and cannibalism, she wouldn’t blame him for that. She couldn’t
blame
him for any of this. Wouldn’t she have kept trying to escape too? He had never blamed her for that or even been angry, not even when she had tried to drive a dagger into his groin.

No, she understood his adherence to his mission perfectly well. Most of her anger was for herself. She should have known he would try to escape, and she should have been better prepared. Right away, she had been suspicious when he had started taking off his armor, and it had crossed her mind to shoot him before he finished. Then, too late, she had thought to check for the fob, only to find it missing. She should have been checking on that, making sure she still had it, all along. Instead, she had allowed the run-in with the sludge to distract her.

“You left all of your people behind,” Tamryn said, looking at the cargo area instead of at him. “They’re going to be killed, and then Fleet is going to come to your moon and do again what it did a hundred and fifty years ago.”

“Brax and the others were prepared to die when they came on this mission, the same as I am,” Makkon said, his voice calm and reasonable. Wasn’t he afraid at all? “And it’s my hope that they won’t drop any more nukes on my world when you’re down there with me.”

Tamryn snorted and met his eyes so he would see her disbelief. “You think they won’t sacrifice one junior officer to make sure your people are never a threat again?”

“I think they won’t sacrifice the granddaughter of Pyotr Pavlenko, who apparently sits on the government council.”

She looked away, her jaw clenching again. So, some time between capturing all of the scientists, fighting off a ship of pirates, and dealing with a mysterious metal- and flesh-eating organism, he had done some research. And now he meant to use her as a hostage, just as he’d planned to do with the scientists. She imagined him having a chat with the highest-ranking Fleet officer on those ships while holding a gun to her head. Even though she understood his motivations, his mission, she couldn’t help but feel hurt that he would use her like that. When
had
he found out who she was, anyway? All along, had he been trying to turn her into an ally in the hope that she would be close enough to kidnap when he got the chance? Or maybe he’d hoped she would talk to her grandfather on his behalf?

“Pyotr Pavlenko and the council are a long way from here,” Tamryn said. “Whoever’s in charge of that fleet probably doesn’t even know I’m here or who I am.”

“I plan to make them aware of both facts.”

“What makes you so sure it will matter?” She glared at him again. “Fleet doesn’t make deals with terrorists. They’re not real flexible on that policy. And it’s not like I’m the heir to some throne or something. Even if they did comm back home and talk to my grandfather, what exactly do you think would happen? He has ten grandkids. I’m sure he’d be disappointed to lose one, but he knew that would be a possibility when my brothers and I signed up to serve.”

“Did all of his ten grandkids go on hunting trips with him growing up?” Makkon spun back toward the console, tapping a few buttons. “They’ll barter to get you back.”

Tamryn couldn’t tell if he truly believed that or if he was trying to talk himself into believing it. She honestly wasn’t sure whether her name would matter as much as he thought. Fleet had sacrificed entire ships full of people if it was deemed for a greater good. It had destroyed
worlds
. Maintaining law and order over a system with this many planets, moons, and stations required ruling with an iron fist. The military was
not
known for giving in to demands from rebels, radicals, or terrorists.

“They brought ten ships,” Makkon muttered, watching the sensor display. “None of them look like freighters full of terraforming equipment.” He sighed. He did not sound surprised. “Eight are heading straight for the station. Two are breaking away. It’s impossible to tell yet, but I’m guessing they were sent to chase us.”

“Will they catch us before we reach the moon?” Tamryn asked.

“No.”

“Do they have enough armament to blow
up
the moon?”

Makkon frowned back at her. “Blow up, no. Damage, I have no doubt. We won’t feel it down in our base. Those tunnels survived a nuclear holocaust.” He pressed a few more buttons on the communications console. “I intend to give them a reason to talk rather than use force.”

After a moment, he got a response to his hail.

“This is the flagship
Marathon
,” a young-sounding voice said over the comm. “Please identify yourself, mining craft
Nebula Seven
.”

Makkon glanced back at Tamryn. “It sounds like they
know
our identity.”

Tamryn thought about warning him that making snarky comments wouldn’t endear him to whoever was commanding that ship, but she kept her mouth shut. She wasn’t going to help him along with his kidnapping endeavor.

“This is hunt leader Makkon from Glaciem,” he said. “I hope you aren’t planning on attacking us. I have Lieutenant Tamryn Pavlenko with me. I understand her grandfather would be displeased if someone blew her up.”

Tamryn’s glare found its way back to her face.

He didn’t look back at her. He was studying the communications console with the intentness of a man watching the barnyard and hoping he had, indeed, purchased the goose that laid the golden eggs. The young officer from the
Marathon
had not responded yet.

“My comrade Brax already sent a list of demands to your government,” Makkon said. “If Pyotr Pavlenko wants to see his granddaughter alive again, he’ll make sure our equipment is sent and also that Glaciem is left in peace in the future.”

Tamryn shifted toward the edge of her seat, as much as her cuffed wrists would allow. She was tempted to shout that Makkon wouldn’t kill her, that they shouldn’t deal with him, but the slightest hint of uncertainty stilled her tongue. Did she
truly
know that he wouldn’t kill her? The feelings he had professed and his interest in her could have all been an act. Even if they had been true, he might still choose to kill her over failing his people. And then there was the niggling part of her that wanted to find a way to keep Makkon and his people from being obliterated by GalCon. As much as she hated the idea of being someone’s hostage—the implication that she hadn’t been a competent enough soldier to keep herself out of this situation—if her life could be traded for the lives of an entire people, wouldn’t that be more than a fair trade?

She reminded herself that she hadn’t met any of these people yet and had no idea how much truth Makkon had told her. For all she knew, the rest of the Glacians were even bigger assholes than Brax.

“Well,” Makkon said after muting the comm. “I got their attention.
Four
ships are now after us.”

Before Tamryn could comment, the
Marathon
responded. It wasn’t the young comm officer this time.

“Let’s see your hostage,
hunt leader
,” an older man’s cold voice said, a voice full of disdain, and... a voice Tamryn recognized. Granted, she’d rarely heard it sound so icy and threatening, but she would have known it anywhere. But what was her father doing here? He’d resigned his commission five years earlier; he was running businesses now, not starships. She gaped at the viewing screen, even though no visuals had been sent back and forth between the two ships.

“Who’s speaking?” Makkon asked.

“Admiral Tomas Pavlenko.”

Apparently, Makkon’s research had involved looking up her father, too, because he blinked a few times, then turned toward her. He raised his eyebrows.

Tamryn nodded. “Sounds like him.”

In order to make it out here with the Fleet, he must have jumped on a ship as soon as he had heard the news.

Makkon tapped the console to establish a video feed. One of the holo displays showing a view out the portside minimized and was replaced by an image of the bridge of the
Marathon
. Several officers at stations were visible, including the captain in the command chair in the center, but Tamryn’s gaze went straight to the tall, rangy man in the pressed black dress uniform standing beside the captain’s chair. His collar gleamed with the fistful of stars and arches denoting admiral’s rank, and all manner of medals and awards lined the breast of his jacket. His gray hair had been cut recently, his mustache shaved off since the last time she had seen him, and he looked exactly as he had five years ago at his retirement ceremony.

Tamryn’s throat tightened, both because she hadn’t realized how much she missed home and her family until seeing him, and because he looked fierce and deadly, like the man who had inspired her to join the military and want to follow in his footsteps, to make a name for herself, as he had done, that had nothing to do with the family money.

Their eyes met, and she thought she saw relief in his, but he had his poker face on, and it was hard to tell what he was thinking. Tamryn swallowed and vowed to keep emotion out of her voice. Besides, she had no idea how he felt about all of this. Was he irritated that she had gotten herself into trouble by choosing this station? Was he disappointed in her for not doing a better job? For allowing herself to be captured and used in this manner?
She
was disappointed in herself.

“What’s your status, Lieutenant?” her father asked.

Tamryn lifted a hand as much as she could, so he could see the cuff. “It’s been a rough week at Frost Station Alpha, sir. We shot the guts out of some pirates that took the
Felling Axe
, but we’re having an ongoing problem with some Glacians.”

“Glacians.” His gaze flicked toward Makkon.

Tamryn had gotten used to Makkon’s long black hair, powerful muscles, and that fierce tattoo covering half his face, but she could only guess at what her father thought, looking at him. He definitely wasn’t someone her mother would have approved of if she had brought him home for dinner.

“Apparently, they’re not as extinct as the universe thought,” Tamryn said. “A number of them are locked up on the station,” she added, wanting her father to know that she and the others had accomplished
something
, “but—”

“Enough,” Makkon said, climbing to his feet. He stepped behind Tamryn’s chair and rested his hand on the back of her neck as he stared at her father. “I hope you brought the terraforming equipment with you, because you have twenty-four hours to deliver it to the surface of Glaciem.”

“Or what?” Her father’s voice was even colder than it had been before. Some of the bridge crew cringed at his tone. Tamryn might have cringed, too, if she hadn’t grown up riding on his shoulders and having water fights against him in the lake behind the house.

“Either she dies, or we keep her.” Makkon smiled, though it was a cold and unfriendly smile, and it made her squirm in her seat. He looked down at her, his face like that of a stranger, then back to the video pickup. “As you might guess, our civilization is on the brink of extinction. We can use more young fertile females.”

Fertile females? What the—

Tamryn tried to punch him before remembering that cuffs held her wrists near the chair. Her father looked livid, even more livid than at the suggestion of her death.

“You don’t
have
a civilization,” he snarled. “Glaciem was a damned penal colony.”

“Are we to be condemned because of the actions of our ancestors?” Makkon didn’t mention that he had been alive during the Glacian uprising, or that Brax had been among those trying to take over the system back then.

“
Yes
,” her father said.

Makkon released Tamryn and walked back to the console. “Twenty-four hours.” He shut down the channel.

“Fertile females?” Tamryn stared at him, wondering if she knew him at all, thinking that more and more, everything he had told her had been a ruse. “What was
that
?”

Makkon sat down. “I think it might make him more inclined to agree to our demands than a simple death threat. You’re right; you signed on to be a soldier and that comes with the possibility of death. He’s probably braced himself for that. But other unpleasant possibilities... perhaps he would find himself less hardened to. Besides, if he called my bluff, I couldn’t kill you.”

“But you think you could force me to
breed?
”

“Well. I’d not want
force
to be involved...”

“You can take a rocket into the sun and die, hunt leader Makkon. You’re not seeing any of my fertile parts. Ever.”

He smiled sadly, then shifted his attention back to the moon, its icy contours filling the display now. She slumped at the knowledge that the fleet was too far behind to catch them before they landed down there, where she would likely go from being Makkon’s prisoner to being his government’s prisoner. She had no idea how she would be treated then. Makkon might be fond of his people, but her father was right. Whatever the Glacians had been when they’d first been dropped off to colonize the moon, they had become a people willing to send out vengeful conquerors to try and take over the entire system.