Imminent Danger: And How to Fly Straight Into It (38 page)

Varrin couldn’t think straight. His vision was tinged with red. The only coherent thought in his mind was that even though Eris was annoying and argumentative, he couldn’t imagine a future without her in it.
And now she’s dead,
he thought.

Clutching the battle axe in one shaking hand, Varrin calculated how quickly he’d have to move to kill the Ssrisk captain before Hroshk could blow his brains out with the striker. He knew he had time to swing but also that he was unlikely to survive the attack. At that moment, Varrin didn’t really care. The only thing on his mind was revenge.

Varrin raised the axe and charged. As Hroshk wheeled toward him, Varrin realized there wasn’t enough time to close the gap before the Ssrisk pulled the trigger. No longer caring whether he lived or died, the Rakorsian prince committed himself to the suicidal attack.

BOOM.

Hroshk dropped the striker and stared down at the gaping, melon-sized hole that had suddenly blown open in his chest. He emitted a gurgling choke and then crashed to the floor. His violet eyes blinked furiously as his clawed hands struggled to close up the fatal wound. Within seconds, he was dead.

Varrin stopped midstride and gaped at the sight. His exhausted mind was unable to process what had just happened. He simply stood, battle axe dangling limply from one hand, jaw hanging open.

“Serves him right for shooting me,” a breathless voice complained from somewhere to Varrin’s left. “I can’t believe how heavy this rifle is. I think I pulled a muscle lifting the damn thing. And you just
know
I’m going to get a bruise.”

Varrin whirled around and saw Eris slumped against the far wall, one hand on her chest, the other clutching his plasma rifle.

“Eris!” Miguri trilled. “You are alive!”

She looked confused. “What are you saying?” she demanded. “Speak English! Or Common. Whatever that crazy alien language of yours is called.”

Rushing to her, Varrin crouched beside the battered girl. Ignoring her futile attempts to swat him away, he carefully moved her hand away from her chest and lifted her silvery necklace. The lamri pendant was shattered beyond repair. He realized the milky white stone had absorbed the plasma shot and saved Eris’s life.

“Kari, you are one lucky girl,” Varrin breathed softly.

“English, Varrin! Or Common—whatever! What’s wrong with you? Why can’t I understand you?”

She tried to sit up straighter but then winced. Varrin quickly reached out to steady her. Turning to Miguri, he called, “Hey, rat, bring me a lamri. She can’t understand a word I’m saying.”

Miguri scurried over a few seconds later with Kratis’s lamri. As he handed it to Eris, Varrin said, “I thought—”

Eris scowled at Varrin and punched his shoulder. “What were you thinking, attacking him like that?” she railed. “He was going to blow you in two!”

“You seem to have averted that situation quite nicely,” Varrin drawled, looking pointedly at the rifle in her lap.

While Eris continued berating him for his foolhardy actions, Varrin glanced around the room and conducted a quick survey. All their enemies were accounted for. Grashk was slumped against the wall, oozing blue blood.
Friend or foe?
Varrin wondered. Resolving to deal with that question later and satisfied they were safe—for the moment, at least—he turned his attention back to Eris.

“—on Earth would you do something so reckless?” she was saying. “He could have killed you!”

“I thought you were
dead
, all right?” he blurted.

Eris stared at him blankly for a moment. Then her face broke into a soft smile. “Thank you.”

“What? Why?”

“Thank you. You came back and saved us when there was nothing in it for you. You didn’t have to do that, but you did.”

“Yeah, well … I didn’t want to have to train a whole new set of crewmembers,” he said nonchalantly, avoiding her gaze.

“Fine,” she sighed. “Be that way.”

Varrin jumped to his feet. “Enough with all the moping and the emotions and the touchy-feely stuff,” he declared, reaching for Eris’s hand. “Come on, girl. We won!”

“We did, didn’t we?” she agreed as Varrin pulled her up. “But now what?”

“We have no ship,” Miguri reminded them. “The
Nonconformity
is on the Ssrisk cruiser.”

“One thing at a time,” Varrin said. “Let’s get back to my escape pod first and figure it out from there. But speaking of the Ssrisk cruiser,” he added, turning toward Grashk, “I would be remiss if I didn’t thank you for helping us. Although I do have to wonder why you did so.”

“That is none of your concern,” Grashk hissed.

“It is, actually. For all I know, you plan to double-cross us. Although right now you’re about as threatening as a Harunian
pluffit
.”

Grashk
rat-tat-tat-
ed.

“Look,” Varrin said, “unless you want to spend the rest of your life locked up in a Psilosian prison—provided our overzealous Rakorsian friends don’t kill you first—you’d better come with us.” He extended his hand to the fallen Ssrisk warrior.

Grashk seemed to consider the offer for a moment and then grudgingly allowed Varrin to pull him to his feet.

“I like you,” Varrin declared, clapping the Ssrisk on the back.

“I can barely stand your presence,” Grashk hissed.

Varrin laughed. “I get that a lot.”

39

“W
e have a problem,” Varrin said. He gestured toward the engine hatchway he’d blasted open several hours before, which was still covered with the spray-on seal.

“Stop saying that!” Eris exclaimed. “What’s wrong now?”

“See for yourself.”

Eris peered through the airtight webbing. All she could see was starry space. “The pod is gone.” Then, in a slightly hysterical tone: “
Why
is the pod gone, Varrin?”

“Perhaps it was shot off while the Ssrisk were attacking,” Miguri suggested. “Can we not take a Ssrisk boarding shuttle instead? There must still be some latched onto the side of the ship.”

“No,” Grashk said. “You will find none. They were all set to self-destruct when the boarding parties failed their missions.”

“Well, that seems kind of wasteful,” Eris observed. “So, no Ssrisk ships. What now? Varrin, can you pull princely rank or something and commandeer a Rakorsian shuttle?”

“No,” he said.

“But it worked when you ordered around those executioners!”

“Different situation. Aha!” Varrin suddenly whirled on the Ssrisk. “Grashk, you’ve got that smug sense of superiority and short temper that Ssrisk officers are famous for. I don’t suppose you rank anywhere high up in the chain of command, do you?”

The blue alien
phhh
-ed. “You are more intelligent than I suspected, Rakorsian. It is as you guessed. I am a first lieutenant on the
Ss’Rass’Kris
.”

Eris blinked. “I thought you were a security guard.”

“Three months ago, I was late for duty,” Grashk confessed. “I was temporarily demoted. Ssrisk do not hold with tardiness.”

“I don’t get it,” she said. “How does that help us?”

“All Ssrisk pride themselves on bravery in battle. The greatest glory goes to those who are first to enter a conflict.”

“So?”

“So all the boarding parties, which are now dead, were led by officers looking for glory,” Varrin explained. “Ssrisk officers tend to die off rather quickly due to their complete lack of survival sense.”

“Life without honor is meaningless,” Grashk hissed.

“Oh! It’s like in
Star Trek
,” Eris said. “They always send the least expendable people into sticky situations first. And that’s always the highest-ranking officers.”

“I do not know these
Star Trek
warriors, but I respect their battle fervor,” Grashk said. “Yes, Rakorsian, much as I loathe admitting it, I believe you are correct. Since I am not among the glorious Ssrisk dead, it is likely I am now the highest-ranking officer on my ship.”

“You’re the new captain,” Eris concluded.

“In theory, yes. There will still be the customary duel to the death before I can secure my post—”

“What?”

“—but for all intents and purposes, yes, I now command the
Ss’Rass’Kris
.”

“Great! Now we just need to figure out how to get to it so I can get my ship back,” Varrin said. “You will give me my ship back, right?”

The Ssrisk flickered his tongue noncommittally.

Click.

“Hands up!” a deep voice behind them growled.

Turning slowly, they found themselves staring down the barrel of Fino’jin’s striker. The Skin Slicer was heavily wounded, and Eris could see his legs shaking from the effort of keeping himself upright.

Varrin winced. “Fino’jin. You’re alive! Which is really a shock, because I would
never
have expected you to be alive after that tremendous blow I dealt.”

“Silence!” the Skin Slicer barked, swaying on his feet. “You should have killed me when you defeated me, my prince. Now you will pay for spitting on my honor. Any final words before I send you to the fiery depths of Kavishtiva?”

“Yes. Pleasant dreams.”

BZZZT.

Fino’jin’s eyes rolled back into his head, and he collapsed to the floor.

Eris whirled on Varrin. “What just happened?”

He opened his hand to reveal a small black device. “Knock-out disc.” He wiggled the little controller in the air for emphasis and then tossed it onto Fino’jin’s unconscious body. “I slipped the receiver onto him after our last fight. Fino’jin’s got this strange mentality where he either has to win or die, so I figured it might come to this.”

“You realize he’s going to come after us again when he wakes up, right?”

Varrin waved a hand dismissively. “We’ll be long gone by then.”

“Why not just kill him?”

“He was my personal guard,” the exiled prince said gravely, staring at the unmoving Skin Slicer. “He’s been around my whole life. It doesn’t feel right for me to be the one to kill him after he kept me alive for so long.”

Eris crouched down and grabbed Fino’jin’s striker. “Then we should probably get out of here before he wakes up and decides the only way he can be sure to kill you is by self-destructing the entire ship.”

“I wouldn’t put it past him. He’s always been very stubborn.”

“Look who’s talking,” she mumbled.

Turning to the Ssrisk, Varrin said, “Come on, Grashk, move your scaly behind.”

Grashk swiped at Varrin, who dodged easily with a bark of laughter.

“Stop messing around,” Eris commanded. “We have to get off this ship before we get attacked by someone else that Varrin’s pissed off. Where’s the docking bay?”

Miguri gave a long-suffering sigh. “At the greatest concentration of striker-wielding Rakorsians, no doubt.”

Eris and Miguri lay on the metal catwalk that stretched around the perimeter of the docking bay. The bay held several ships of varying designs and was guarded by four Rakorsians standing in the center of the room.

“Do you see them?” Eris whispered to Miguri, peering over the edge of the catwalk.

“No,” the Claktill mumbled. “But I suspect the Rakorsian will make his entrance soon.”

“This plan had better work. I don’t want to end up back in an execution room. Think they’d stick us in B again or go for something more exotic, like F?”

Miguri put his finger to his lips. “Shhh. I believe the show is about to begin.”

Down on the docking bay floor, Varrin jumped out from behind a large stack of crates and walked casually toward the middle of the bay. “Good afternoon, gentlemen!” he called.

The guards swiveled toward him, strikers raised. “Don’t move!” one said gruffly. “Arms in the air!” Then he did a double take. “P-Prince Varrin?”

“My, what a fine docking bay you have here,” Varrin rambled, gesticulating with wild sweeps of his arms. “You have to admire the architectural genius that goes into Rakorsian starship construction. I heard about the Ssrisk boarding parties. How embarrassing for the security team. You know what they say—your prospects are damp when the enemy’s in your camp!”

The guards stared at him, mouths agape. Then one of them barked, “Surrender your weapons!”

Varrin arched an eyebrow imperiously. “I beg your pardon?”

The guard blanched and cleared his throat. “That is—I mean, we request that you relinquish your weapons and accompany us to the bridge, Your Highness—sir?”

“I thought he was exiled,” another guard said in a perplexed undertone. “Wouldn’t that make him our
ex
-highness?”

“He’s still a prince,” the first guard countered.

The other guards shrugged. Then all four lowered their strikers and saluted Varrin.

“Now!” Varrin shouted and then dove to the floor.

Grashk leaped out from behind a stack of crates and let loose with his striker. Blasts of plasma whizzed over Varrin’s head, splashing into the chests of the guards. As the guards collapsed to the ground, Eris jumped to her feet and shouted, “They’d better be stunned, Grashk!”

“Your obsession with preserving the lives of my inferiors is irritating,” the Ssrisk hissed.