Yes, Alisa had seen the big ship. There was a reason she had docked on the opposite side of the station. After the little kerfuffle she had participated in—and largely arranged—back on Perun, she wasn’t sure how the Alliance felt about her. She wouldn’t have been surprised if she had been denied permission to dock or even to learn there was an arrest order out for her. She and Leonidas might end up with matching warrants. Wouldn’t that be cozy?
“Nice,” Alisa said. “Did it come with a promotion?”
“It did. It’s
Captain
Khazan now, if you can believe it.”
“If they gave Tomich a ship, anything is possible.”
For the first time, Khazan’s easy smile faltered. “Er, yes. As long as I’m here…” She looked at Beck again, who was sneaking glances toward her. Khazan’s height intimidated some men, but she had high cheekbones and striking features that attracted most. “Could we talk in private for a moment, Marchenko?”
“Private?” Beck asked. “Wouldn’t you ladies like some duck before you go?” He plucked a fresh skewer from the grill since all of the ones on the platter beside it had been taken by the crowd. He frowned down to see that his stack of napkins had disappeared, but he poked around in the basket he’d brought everything out in. “I’ll even put it on a plate for you,” he said.
“You civilians sure live the life of luxury, don’t you?” Khazan asked, accepting the skewer before Beck found his plate.
“There’s sauce too,” Alisa said, pointing toward a bottle balanced precariously on a corner of the grill. “You never saw the cooks on the
Merciless
put out sauce.”
“No, but they did have those squeeze packages of ketchup, mustard, and ponzu. They were fun to play with during zero gravity drills.”
“Fun to make a mess with, you mean.”
“Cleaning the ceilings gave the privates something to do during down time.”
Beck made a face, and Alisa recalled that he had been an enlisted soldier. His crush on Khazan might already be on the wane.
Alisa was on the verge of telling Khazan that she could discuss whatever she wanted to bring up in front of Beck—she had a notion this might be a warning that there was, indeed, a warrant out for her. But she was still watching the crowd for her contact, and she spotted a dark figure lurking next to a support post at the other side of the concourse. Her stomach sank. She could not see the person’s face, thanks to a hood pulled low, but she recognized that black robe. Who wouldn’t? It was the Starseers’ favorite garb. Nobody wanted to be mistaken for a Starseer, so few wore it for simple fashion purposes. The figure gripped the end of a six-foot-long black staff, using it like a walking stick. The legends said Starseers used those staffs like weapons, having incorporated some of their technology or power to make them strong enough to deflect bullets and blazer bolts.
The figure was not looking in her direction, but Alisa was immediately suspicious that her ship had acquired a spy. Maybe someone watching them because of Alejandro and his orb? If so, the word had gotten out quickly. The
Nomad
had only been in dock for an hour.
“Marchenko?” Khazan asked. “Did you hear me?”
Realizing she was staring at the Starseer, Alisa turned back to her old colleague. “Sorry, what?”
A part of her was tempted to charge through the crowd and confront the robed figure, to ask him—if it was a him—if he knew anything about her daughter’s abduction. But the odds of that were unlikely. Her daughter had been kidnapped on Perun, all the way on the other side of the system, and this was probably some lackey who had been sent on a spy mission. She could have approached him, anyway, but Yumi had claimed she could take them to a hidden Starseer temple down on Arkadius and perhaps get them invited inside. Alisa would be more likely to get her answers there.
“I asked if we could talk in private,” Khazan said. “And also if I have sauce on my nose.”
“Your nose is fine,” Beck said.
“Why, thank you.” Khazan winked at him. “Your chef flirts well, Marchenko.”
“Actually, he’s my security officer.”
Khazan looked at the slender wooden skewer Beck was threading through the next batch of meat. “He looks very dangerous.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Beck frowned.
“Nothing.” Alisa put her hand on Khazan’s shoulder and nodded toward the airlock tube. “Yes, we can talk in my cabin. That way.” She pointed, indicating that Khazan should go first as she leaned close to Beck to whisper, “There’s someone in a Starseer robe on the far side of the concourse. Let me know if he does anything suspicious.”
“Like what?” Beck scanned the crowd until he noticed the figure, then made a hasty circle over his heart, a superstitious gesture that those from the moons of Aldrin made to call the sun gods for protection. The early inhabitants had been certain the giant green spot on the gas planet looming in their sky had been emitting harmful gases as well as general bad mojo.
“If he comes over to sample your duck and ask questions about me or the doctor, I’d consider that suspicious.”
“Maybe he’ll just be unable to resist the aroma of my perfectly cooked meat, which is also, I might add, seasoned with the ideal amount of celery seed.”
“I’m certain. Let me know if he comes for either reason.”
Alisa jogged to catch up with Khazan in the cargo hold. She had walked around the stacks of crates taking up half the space and paused by the stairs. She was looking to the corner where Yumi Moon stood in a green, ankle-length dress and bright yellow boots while tossing dried corn into the makeshift chicken pen. Netting draped over the top kept the birds from flying out—sometimes.
“That-a-girl, Isabel,” Yumi crooned. “But let Alcyone have some too.”
“I can see why you got out of the army, Marchenko,” Khazan said. “The exotic allure of being a civilian freight operator couldn’t be resisted.”
Yumi looked curiously at Khazan and gave Alisa a tentative wave. The chickens complained at this pause in their feeding. Alisa waved back, trying to combine an ignore-our-guest gesture in the mix before she led the way up the stairs.
“I’d tell you about how my life has been a lot more exotic than I’d like of late,” Alisa said over her shoulder, “but I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve already heard about that.”
“I’ve heard some.”
Khazan waited until they were seated in Alisa’s private cabin to expound. She plopped down at the fold-down desk sticking out from the wall, leaving Alisa to sit on the edge of the bed.
“I would offer you a drink,” Alisa said, “but all I have is water. My operation just got started and isn’t that flush with tindarks yet.”
“No? Ferrying chickens around doesn’t pay well?”
“Actually, the chickens ride for free.”
“You should have stayed in the army if that’s all the business savvy you have,” Khazan said.
“I forgot how endearing your tongue is.”
“I seem to recall we had matching tongues. And that they irritated Tomich to no end when they made him our squadron commander.”
“This is true,” Alisa said, expecting the mention of Tomich to lead Khazan into sharing her news, since he had been the one to help the
Nomad
escape from a bunch of posturing Alliance and imperial ships a couple of weeks earlier.
“I got a message from him a couple of days ago,” Khazan said, tapping a red and yellow earstar cupping the helix of her ear.
Alisa thought she might command the device to share a holo vid, but she merely lowered her hand to her lap and kept speaking.
“You might have trouble landing your freighter on Arkadius, at least if you’re going to a legitimate civilian or military space base.”
Alisa doubted the Starseer temple would count as either, but she saw no reason to inform Khazan of her destination. Even if she had come here as a friend warning a friend, that did not mean she wouldn’t relay what she learned back to Tomich. He had been the commander for both of them, after all.
“I’m a little surprised I was allowed to land here, honestly,” Alisa said, waving in the direction of the concourse.
“Must have been someone sleeping in the port authority office.” Khazan sniffed. “Civilians.”
Alisa smiled at the dig. The fact that Arkadius Gamma was a corporate-owned station rather than a military one was the reason she had chosen it. “Yes, we’re so inept, aren’t we?”
“I hope you haven’t gotten soft enough for that word to apply to you.” Khazan’s face grew serious as she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk. “Listen, I don’t know what your business is here or on the planet, but if you’re still harboring fugitives, you better not linger for long. I hear both of them are hot commodities for the government.”
“They’re not fugitives as far as I know,” Alisa said. Sure, Alejandro and Leonidas had been responsible for the shooting up of a library—and Alisa might have helped in that endeavor too—but that had been on Perun, the imperial planet. The Alliance shouldn’t care about that. Even that crime had been a matter of self-defense.
“Whatever they are, the government wants them.”
Them. When the
Nomad
had encountered the Alliance near Perun’s moon, it had been Leonidas they had been after. Somewhere along the way, they must have learned about Alejandro and his mysterious orb.
“And it doesn’t look too good that you’re taxiing them around the system,” Khazan added.
“They pay more than the chickens.”
“This isn’t a joke, Marchenko—
Alisa
.” None of Khazan’s typical humor was in her eyes now. “Tomich said he was vague in his reports to his superiors, and implied you might have been a hostage on your own ship, but he wasn’t sure himself, and he’s afraid your status is about to go from Alliance war hero to imperial sympathizer, maybe worse. Arrest may be the least of your concerns if you’re captured.”
Alisa sighed. “I’m not sympathizing with anyone. They just paid for rides, and I’m giving them rides. They’re getting off at Arkadius, and then I’m done with them.”
Her wistful thoughts about hiring Leonidas sauntered to the forefront of her mind, but she shook her head. Even though she had come to like him, and he had saved her backside a couple of times, she had known for weeks that it would be foolish of her to keep him on her ship and in her life. Alisa did not want to find her daughter only to end up in jail or on the run as a fugitive.
“I’m glad to hear that,” Khazan said, leaning back, her hands sliding into her lap again. “I probably don’t have to tell you, but this is a precarious time for the Alliance. They’ve openly claimed Arkadius and several other key planets, but there are imperial sympathizers aplenty, and the higher-ups know they’re vulnerable right now. We spent a lot to win that war, and our people are spread thin. If I were you, I’d figure out how to turn those imperials in, not just part ways with them. That’ll show the government you can be trusted. And you could even come back into the army if you can pass the medical tests and the physical. We still need good pilots.”
“I’ll think about it.” Alisa made a show of nodding. She couldn’t truly imagine betraying Leonidas, but it had crossed her mind many times to turn Alejandro in, or at least record a detailed message to send to someone who could use the information to apprehend him. Hells, if that Major Mladenovic had been willing to help her find her daughter instead of stringing her along, Alisa might have already handed over the orb.
“For your sake, I hope you do. It would be good flying with you again.” Khazan stood up. “And I sure wouldn’t want to fly against you.”
Khazan grinned, probably meaning it as a compliment, but the words made Alisa’s stomach turn to stone. The idea of flying against her old comrades disturbed her even more than the idea of faceless police officers chasing after her. That was a future she did not want, not for herself and certainly not for her daughter.
Chapter 2
Alisa piloted the
Nomad
away from the space station and toward the ice-smothered north pole of Arkadius. When they got closer, she would call Yumi to NavCom for more specific directions, but Yumi had already said the temple was located near the pole. That was fine with Alisa, because habitations were sparse above the arctic circle. She hoped the military patrol ships that protected the planet would be sparse in that area too.
Leonidas ducked into NavCom and slid into the co-pilot’s seat. Since nobody except Alisa knew how to fly the ship, she supposed she should re-dub that the passenger’s seat. She sat there when she needed to plot a course for the autopilot, but that was about all that station was for, other than holding a backup helm in case her station exploded. Or
she
exploded.
The grim thought made her glance to the side to check the sensors. Satellites and ships in orbit lit it up at the edge of its range, but nothing was close at the moment. More important, nothing was following them. According to Beck, the Starseer on the station had walked away shortly after Alisa had gone inside with Khazan. She hoped that meant that her suppositions had been wrong, that the robed figure had simply been passing through and hadn’t been sent to spy on her ship. Or her interesting passengers.
She looked toward Leonidas, debating whether she should tell him about the person. “Can I help you with anything?” she asked, since he had not spoken yet.
It was not uncommon for the others to come up and chat with her about something or another while she was flying, but he rarely did. During the long days in space between planets, he kept to himself, exercising in the cargo hold or doing who knew what in his cabin. He had seemed even quieter since their stopover on Starfall Station, where he had gotten his combat armor repaired—and where he had watched an old comrade die in his arms. Alisa had been along for that, and she could understand why the events might have left him feeling pensive. He was well aware of the bounty out for his arrest, and now he was aware of what might happen to those who stood close while bounty hunters took shots at him.
“I don’t need any help,” Leonidas said quietly, gazing at the view screen where icecaps floated in the frigid northern sea. He turned toward her, meeting her eyes. “I did wish to come and thank you.”