Wreck of the Nebula Dream (13 page)

“I don’t think so,” was all Nick said as he brought the full bottle of vodka across the man’s head in one sweeping motion, knocking his target halfway across the corridor. Without pausing, he wheeled to smash the jagged, dripping remnants of glass against the forehead of Twilka’s captor on the right side, closest to him. “Game over, goons.”

Nick grabbed at the third would-be rapist, getting a fistful of the man’s silky green shirt and hauling him off the deck. Throwing his prisoner against the bulkhead, Nick slammed him headfirst into the ornamental light fixture. Shards of broken amber-colored glass showered onto both of them.

Behind him, Nick could hear Khevan mixing it up with the others. Stepping away, Nick left his third victim sliding grotesquely down the bulkhead like a lifeless puppet, a trail of blood smearing on the embossed wall covering. The man crumpled in a heap on the deck, bleeding profusely from myriad cuts.

Nick reached for Twilka, who whimpered and curled into a tight fetal position, as terrified of him as she had been of the others a minute previously. Gently, Nick pulled the traumatized girl up by the shoulders. “It’s all right. We’re actually here to help you.” Holding her tightly, he turned his head a fraction. “Khevan?”

“Time to go,” the Brother confirmed, breathing hard. Two more of the gang lay on the deck at his feet, obviously dead from the unusual angle of their heads relative to their shoulders. A third was seconds away from death, jugular vein slashed and pouring blood. The last conspirator, Easton, had seized his chance and fled unscathed into the casino while Nick and Khevan were otherwise occupied.

Taking five steps to lean over the body of the other woman, Khevan tried without success to find a pulse at her neck. “Dead.” He straightened her dress over her legs and stood.

Twilka was half fainting, clutching at Nick, eyes wide. “I – I thought –”

“I know,” Nick said. “It’s okay now, we’ll get you out of here. Can you walk?”

“I’ll carry her.” Khevan suited action to words, scooping her into his arms. “There may be more in the casino, friends of these vermin here. Easton may have gone for help.”

“Right, let’s move.” Nick rubbed at his sore shoulder, flexing his arm in a futile attempt to ease the pain, and followed the Brother to the spot where Mara and the children should be waiting.

As ordered, the Loxton agent was standing next to the grav-lift access, pretty face drawn with anxiety. Gianna huddled in her arms. Paolo was in front of Mara, his demeanor determined, as if he was on guard, the last line of defense for his sister and the woman who had befriended them.

“What in the name of Space happened to her?” Mara said, as the two men came rushing around the curve of the corridor.

“We’ll do an after action report for you later. Let’s concentrate on getting to the Control Level access now, before anything else happens.” Nick was impatient. He scooped Paolo into his arms as he reached the group. “Let’s move.”

Khevan had not broken stride, going on past Mara and the children, heading for the subtly marked access door at the far end of the corridor. “Dead end here – not a good place to get trapped, Captain,” he called over his shoulder. “Are you sure we can gain entry?”

“I hate to mention it for the first time, but I don’t have any idea what the code is for this grav lift,” Mara said breathlessly, rushing to keep up with Nick, pulled by his iron grip on her free hand. “I can try the three combinations I do know, but what are we going to do if none of them work?”

“Not a problem.” Nick was unfazed. He set Paolo next to Mara and stepped to the interface panel, rapidly punching in a set of symbols. He glanced over his shoulder as he keyed in the last one with a flourish. “I’m Special Forces, remember? We have an override code.”

“For this kind of thing?” Mara’s expressive face showed her skepticism, one elegant eyebrow raised.

“For anything, anywhere.” Nick laughed, pumped on adrenaline from the brawl at the casino entrance.

 
Sure enough, the indicator flashed its approval of the code sequence he had rapped off. The door slid smoothly aside, granting them access to the grav lift for the short journey to the control deck.

A minute later, Nick stepped into the entry of the Control Level, finding the area deserted, silent, the emergency lighting dim. Frowning, he led the way across the corridor to the bridge, keying the door with his override code again.

“What in the Seven Hells?!” The portal opened ponderously, revealing a scene of wanton destruction and death.

“What is it? What do you see?” Mara tried to sidestep him, to get a clear view into the bridge.

He shifted his body, trying to block the carnage from the others. “Mara, Twilka, keep the children out here until I give the all clear,” he said, his tone allowing no dissent. He pushed them all away from the bridge entry in his anxiety over preventing them from seeing the grim details. When he had the women and children clustered away from the door, Nick beckoned to the Brother. “Come on.”

The D’nvannae at his side, Nick slowly advanced into the bridge, staring in disbelief. Stepping over the first dead man gingerly, his boots crunching on broken bits and pieces from the smashed consoles, he did a slow 360, registering two more dead SMT officers. One was still seated at the com-link bank, the other apparently cut down by blaster fire while trying to escape into the ward room on the far side of the command center. The destruction was not complete, Nick realized, but comprehensive enough to affect anything they could use to communicate with the world beyond the
Nebula Dream
’s hull. The ship’s nav controls were shattered, as well as the primary and secondary interfaces to the AI itself.

“Were we attacked?” Khevan was formulating his own estimate of the damage. “But it makes no sense. Where is the captain’s body? Why destroy the controls of the ship? The AI interfaces? I don’t understand any of this.”

Nick sank into the nearest chair heavily. “I think I’m beginning to get a glimmer. Maybe.”

“And?” Khevan stared hard at Nick, eyes narrowed. “I should be gratified to share your insight.”

Frowning, Nick checked the gruesome scene on the bridge. “Not yet, okay? I want to get the bodies out of the way, conduct the children and the women into the wardroom. Let them all settle a bit. Especially Twilka. Maybe there’s something to eat in there, a medkit perhaps. She probably needs a tranq – she was shaking pretty badly. Then, once they’re squared away, I can see what I can do about getting the AI back online, talk to the ship, get some answers.”

“Confirm what you’re guessing?” Khevan’s question was clearly rhetorical.

“Maybe. Some status definitely,” Nick said. “I’d like to know what hit the
Nebula Dream
tonight. How badly damaged she is. But I think my update can wait a minute or two, while we tend to the civilians.” Even as he said it, Nick remembered Khevan was as much a civilian as Mara or the children. The Brother had been so efficient and so unquestioning in supporting Nick’s every move, he’d forgotten they weren’t brothers in uniform.

“A reasonable approach.” Khevan crossed swiftly to check out the wardroom. “Empty.” Bending over, he hooked his hands under the shoulders of the nearest dead officer, preparing to drag him away from the stairs.

“Guy have a name?” Nick asked.

“Fifth Officer Lockyer,” Khevan reported crisply, after bending to read the smeared name tag on the once pristinely white SMT uniform. Matter of factly, he carried the body across the bridge. “Why?”

“Just a hunch I have coming on. This is Fourth Officer Elsbury.” Leaving the body of the woman he had gently removed from her last duty station and taken to rest with her fellow officer, in a spot well out of the direct line of sight of anyone crossing the bridge, Nick walked to the first victim and carefully rolled him over. “This is McElroy, the guy who gave me the tour yesterday. Second Officer.”
So much for poor McElroy’s grand ambitions to have a ship of his own someday.

“This roster of the dead has meaning for you, I can see.” Khevan gazed around the bridge, doing a mental tally of his own. “No Captain, no First Officer, and no Third Officer.”

“All of whom served together as a team previously, according to what McElroy said,” Nick answered. “The president of the SMT Line is missing, too. McElroy told me the other day, Gordis Yankuri was practically living on the bridge this voyage, along with Bonlors. So where’s his body?”

“You think the missing ones did this? To their own ship?” Khevan did a double take, his expression one of complete astonishment. “But why?”

Nick declined the invitation to explain before he was sure of his facts. “Let me talk to the AI before I try my theory out on you, okay? I could be completely wrong. I
want
to be wrong, let me assure you. But the captain of the ship would be the only person on board with easy access to weapons.” He glanced at his ally. Khevan was watching him closely, faint suspicion clouding his amber eyes. Nick made a dismissive gesture. “I had a tour as a professional courtesy, okay? A marketing job. I promise you, once I’ve talked to the AI, I’ll share complete details with you and the others. My word as an officer.”

Khevan considered for the space of a heartbeat, nodding once.

Thank goodness he’s willing to go along with me for now.
Nick rubbed his hands on his pants. “Let’s get the ladies and children in, okay? I’m sure they’re tired of standing out there, worrying about what’s going on.”

Khevan and Nick shepherded the others through the debris-strewn bridge, trying to keep the children from seeing too much of the blood or a clear view of the corpses.

Trembling violently, Twilka was hardly able to walk. Khevan supported her the last few yards. Dramatically, she sank onto the brown couch in the elegantly appointed wardroom, somewhat ruining the effect by promptly sitting up to rearrange the pillows to her satisfaction. Mara led the children to a plush chair opposite and got them situated, curled up together. Searching out a medkit in one of the recessed bulkhead storage compartments, Nick inspected the contents.

“What are you searching for?” Having assisted Twilka in making herself fully comfortable, Khevan joined Nick.

“I was hoping for a tranq, for her.” Nick nodded at the shivering Socialite. “I think she’s going into shock.”

Khevan took the medkit. “Allow me. I have some training. Judging by the bump on her forehead, she may have a concussion. I need to rule the possibility out before we risk giving her anything.”

Nick was more than glad to hand off first aid duty. He checked with Mara, who was perched on the edge of the chair where Paolo and Gianna huddled. “You okay?”

Conjuring up a tired smile for him, meeting his gaze, she nodded, her eyes serious despite the grin. “Thanks.”

“I was hoping there might be something the kids could eat, or at least drink, in here,” Nick said. “A snack might be a good restorative for them about now. Children are always hungry, right?”

“I’ll see what I can find,” Mara answered by way of tacit agreement. “And you?”

“Nothing for me right now, thanks. I’m going back in there to get the AI online. If I can manage it. We’ve got to know what’s going on.”

“And how soon we can expect a rescue ship.” Something must have shifted in his expression despite his best efforts to hold a poker face, because the next minute Mara rose from the chair and came the two steps to stand next to him, resting one hand on his sleeve, her voice lowered to ask, “What is it, Nick?”

He shook his head. “Just tired. And my shoulder hurts. I banged the hell out of it when the ship first collided with whatever it was. I got thrown out of bed.”

“There must be a painkiller in the medkit,” she said. “Want me to ask Khevan?”

Rubbing at his shoulder, he shook his head slightly. “No, thanks. From what’s happened so far tonight, indications are I’d better keep clear of meds. I can handle a twinge here and there.”

“All right.” Her tone was dubious.
 

“Hey, thanks for rescuing me, doing the gallant thing and all,” Twilka called out from her perch on the couch.
 

“How in the Seven Hells did you end up in the hands of those thugs, anyway?” Nick said.
 

“Where are all your friends?” Mara asked.

“We were going to party in Fippi’s cabin.” Twilka’s voice was tired, all ‘Lite affectations abandoned for now. “Only I was on an incredibly hot run with the dice, cleaning up big, you know? So I stayed when the others left. Can’t walk away from hot dice, you know? Bad luck for days after. But then something happened to the ship and I – I guess I got knocked out. Woke up under the gaming table with a headache, and the croupier’s dead body on top of me.” She glanced at the children, sitting wide-eyed in their plush chairs, taking in every word she was saying. Swallowing hard, Twilka visibly, and no doubt uncharacteristically, edited whatever she had planned to explain next. “Then, when I got out of the casino, the pack of drunken bastards surrounded me.”
 

“Did you know who the other woman was?” Nick inquired.

Closing her eyes with a shudder, Twilka lowered her head, fingers at her temples. “No. No, she was already – they had already –”

“Don’t stress yourself by recalling the details,” Khevan said firmly. “There was nothing we could have done, so there was certainly no aid you could have given to her, either.”