Read The Assassin's Salvation (Mandrake Company) Online
Authors: Ruby Lionsdrake
Tags: #General Fiction
“The guild sends out a weekly bulletin with new jobs listed on it. Someone is offering fifty thousand aurums for Viktor Mandrake’s head.”
* * *
Jamie glanced at Ankari, amazed her friend, employer, and business partner appeared so calm. “Aren’t you worried?” she whispered, her hands resting lightly on the pilot’s controls.
They had left the dock, with Jamie plotting a course back into orbit, to where the
Albatross
waited. There wasn’t much on the console that demanded her attention, but it worried her to think of the captain in danger. Sure, he had thrown Jamie and the others into the brig when they had first met, but he had turned out to be a decent man beneath the gruff exterior, and he certainly treated Ankari well.
“I’m worried,” Ankari said from the co-pilot’s seat. She couldn’t fly, but nobody else aboard could, either, so it didn’t matter much who sat up there. “But I assume it’s not the first time someone has ordered his death.”
“It’s not,” Sergeant Hazel said from the row of passenger seats against the wall. The other combat shuttles in the company had a couple of rows of seats like that, and room in the back for battle armor and racks of guns, but Jamie had helped Ankari remodel this one into more of a medical clinic with thrusters. There was a curtained-off space for procedures to be performed, along with counters full of equipment for Lauren’s research. Lauren was back there now, as usual, ignoring the safety regulations in order to work. Their new passenger preferred to stand, too, and had claimed a corner where he could observe everyone. “He’s had assassins after him numerous times. I’m sure he’ll appreciate the warning though.” Hazel lowered her voice to a mutter, and Jamie almost missed the added, “Assuming Zharkov isn’t here to claim the prize.”
Jamie thought to point out that Sergei had said he and Captain Mandrake were friends, not enemies, but it would be naive to trust his word on that. Hazel obviously knew the man, and Jamie liked and trusted Hazel, even if she was as taciturn and gruff as the captain. Jamie might be wise to take her cues from the sergeant and steer clear of their visitor.
Something about that thought gave her a twinge of chagrin. It was strange, especially given the implications of what he might do for a living, but he had struck her as a man who needed a friend. She had noticed his surface features, of course: curly brown hair that would be a wild tangle if it weren’t cut short; intent, dark brown eyes that seemed to miss nothing; and a few days’ growth of a mustache and goatee. The facial hair accented his strong jaw rather than coming across as the afterthought of someone who couldn’t be bothered with shaving regularly. But it was more the suggestion of what lay beneath the surface that Jamie remembered, a saturnine moroseness that hung about him like a cloak. He needed a friend… and a reason to smile. She imagined he would be quite appealing if he smiled.
“He’ll know how to handle it,” Ankari said firmly.
Jamie nibbled on her lip. She had wanted to discuss something with Ankari during this excursion, but this might not be the time to bring it up. But if not now, when? She kept putting it off, and she was running out of time if she wanted to apply. She had hoped to bring it up while Lauren had been working with the patients and Sergeant Hazel had been off on her errand, but the shield generator had been on the fritz, and then those two louts had distracted her, leering at her every time she bent over, then finally coming over to harass her. She ought to be used to the leers by now; it wasn’t as if the mercenaries were any better, most of them, anyway.
Jamie blew out a breath. Yes, that was one of the reasons she needed to bring this up. If not, she would be stuck on the ship forever.
“Ankari…”
“Yes?”
“I’ve been thinking about… well, I’m not really qualified to be your engineer and pilot, as you’ve doubtlessly noticed.” Jamie flushed to think of all the times she had pulled up technical manuals and instruction guides on her tablet while she was piloting.
Ankari’s mouth drooped open. In surprise? Dismay? Jamie didn’t want her request to cause any hard feelings. Ankari and Lauren were her only real friends outside of her own planet, and the way she had left home… she wasn’t eager to return anytime soon. Her father wouldn’t understand.
“Jamie, you’re doing great,” Ankari said. “You’re barely twenty, and the fact that you already
are
an engineer and a pilot, that’s amazing. Most people go to school for years for each of those occupations.”
Yes, school, exactly what Jamie wanted to do. “I know. And then they’re prepared for things that come up. They don’t have to look everything up in the middle of an emergency.”
“You’re doing fine. You’ve more than earned your share of the company.” Ankari smiled. “Which is turning profitable now, shockingly enough.”
“Yes, I’d heard that. That’s why—well, I’ve been wondering. I don’t really fit in on the ship.” Jamie scowled at her hands. She was doing a horrible job of this.
“Not many women do.” Ankari smiled again, glancing back at Sergeant Hazel. Fortunately, Hazel was watching or reading something on her tablet and didn’t seem to be paying attention to the conversation. “But I didn’t realize—are you unhappy there? I know I didn’t take a vote before negotiating for the shuttle and our current lab space on the
Albatross
, but that was born out of desperation.”
“I know.” When Jamie, Ankari, and Lauren had first crossed paths with Mandrake Company, they’d had a bounty on their heads. The captain had meant to turn them in until Ankari had convinced him that the real criminal was the finance lord who had placed the bounty. At some point, she had also managed to hire the mercenaries in a sense, garnering protection and space to work in exchange for a share of the company. Jamie thought it had been smart. It was just her own situation that made things uncomfortable. She didn’t know how to deal with all the male attention she received on board, and she spent a lot of time hiding in the shuttle or in the tiny cabin she shared with Lauren. “The ship is fine. And for you, I’m sure the crew is really nice and, uhm, polite.” Nobody would
dare
cross the captain, or his girlfriend.
Ankari’s smile shifted to a scowl. “Is someone bothering you?”
“No one specifically. I wouldn’t want… I mean, it’s nothing that the captain should be bothered about. Nobody’s tried to hurt me or force me to do anything. It’s just that…” She glanced back. Even if Hazel was reading, and Lauren and Sergei were too far back to hear the conversation, this wasn’t something she wanted to talk about in public. This was why she had hoped to catch Ankari alone. “What it’s really about is that I’d like to go to school, to a real university, so I could learn the things I’m just playing at now. Engineering, probably. I like piloting fine, but I like tinkering more, trying to fix things, make things sometimes.”
Ankari leaned back in her chair. “Oh. I hadn’t realized.”
“It’s nothing about you or Lauren or the captain. You’re great. I just feel like I don’t know enough, and that I should fix that, especially when people’s lives might be at stake.” It was a partial truth, but it sounded good, or at least plausible, she thought. In truth, the on-the-job training she was receiving from Lieutenant Sequoia and Lieutenant Chang was probably at least equal to what she would learn in school. They had already taught her a lot about engineering and piloting that wasn’t mentioned in the books.
“Of course,” Ankari said. “I should have realized that might be an aspiration for you. You
should
go to school, study whatever you like. I’ll miss you, of course, but you
are
young to being running around with a bunch of grumpy, middle-aged mercenaries, and you certainly don’t have a combative personality.”
No kidding. Someone had finally noticed she would rather shy away from confrontation and avoid trouble with people altogether.
“I won’t hold you back, if that’s what you were worried about,” Ankari added.
That was part of it, but there was also the matter of money. What would Ankari think about Jamie’s plan to sell her share of the company to pay for tuition and board?
“Thank you,” Jamie said. “I also wondered about—”
A bleep came from the control panel.
“Proximity detector,” Sergeant Hazel said.
Jamie bit back a grimace. She would have known that without help. “There’s a ship coming toward us, a one-person fighter. Judging by its trajectory, it originated on the planet and not on one of the cloud cities.”
“The planet?” Hazel asked. “I thought the government made sure they didn’t have spaceflight capability down there. Or even a way to get to the aerial cities. Are they going to pass by us, or is it—”
“An interception course,” Jamie said, watching the monitors. Another warning beep sounded. “His weapons are hot.” She had the presence of mind to flip on the shields, but her heart was trying to pound its way out of her chest. The only other time she had been fired at, their craft had been destroyed. What little she remembered of the crash flashed through her mind. Her breaths sounded in her own ears, too fast and hard. She forced herself to slow them down. Hyperventilating was never good, especially when one was the pilot.
“Do your best to evade them.” Ankari didn’t sound nearly as panicked as Jamie felt. “The
Albatross
will see that we’re in trouble.”
Evade them. Sure. The shuttle was still in the planet’s gravitational pull, following a higher orbit than that of the new ship, but Jamie didn’t know enough to judge how different pulls would cause the respective ships to react. She turned off the autopilot and took the helm, hoping her instincts would be enough to get them through this, and promising herself that she would start working on the giant file of navigational math problems that Commander Thatcher had sent her, so long as they survived this.
A shudder ran through the shuttle. The fighter had fired its lasers. It was too far back to do any damage, but that might not be the case for long.
A shadow loomed at Jamie’s shoulder. Hazel had unstrapped her harness and stood. She gripped the back of Jamie’s seat. “This is still a combat shuttle, even if it’s pink.”
“Yeah, but I’m not a combat pilot. I’m not even licensed legally yet.”
Ankari glanced at her. “I thought you were licensed on your planet.”
And so her fibs had finally caught up with her; she would have done anything to escape her family’s restrictive rural life, especially after her mom had died. She had spoken fast and lied faster when she had promised Ankari she was qualified to be her pilot and engineer. “I am. To fly crop dusters. You want your cornfield fertilized, I’m your girl.”
“We have bigger engines, more power,” Sergeant Hazel said. “Push us to maximum. You should be able to stay ahead of him. Markovich, you didn’t have the missiles taken out did you?”
“No, all of the weapons are still there,” Ankari said.
“Good, either start shooting them or let me in there to do it.”
Ankari slid out of the seat. “Show us how it’s done.”
Jamie did her best to ignore Hazel and located the
Albatross
on the sensors. It was coming toward them. Good. She only hoped it would reach them soon enough. That fighter… “He’s gaining on us. I can’t believe how much fuel he’s burning. This is going to be a one-way trip for him. And he must know it.”
“Damned straight it is.” Hazel hammered her palm on a firing button. A soft
clang-thunk
came from beneath the deck, a missile launching.
Jamie watched the sensor screen with one eye, hoping that would be all it took. The missiles had a guidance system, didn’t they?
The fighter fired its lasers again, not aiming at the shuttle this time, but at the missile. The hot crimson beam cut into the projectile. Jamie winced, expecting a fiery explosion. But the missile must have been armored, because it blasted through the laser without faltering. The fighter threw one of his thrusters into over-burn, and the craft dipped, skimming beneath the missile.
“He’s going to burn out before he even reaches us,” Hazel muttered. “Suicidal bastard.”
“The
Albatross
is getting closer,” Jamie said, her eyes locked to the sensors.
“Good, but that missile’s not done yet. We’ll get this kamikaze fool.” Hazel tapped the weapons panel.
The small blip on the display that represented their missile curved, its own thrusters firing to bring it back around. But inertia had taken it far, and Jamie didn’t know if it would escape the planet’s gravitational field and get back to the fighter with any fuel to spare.
In space, she couldn’t see the face of the other pilot, not the way she could have in an air battle in the atmosphere, but she wished she could. She wanted to see into the man’s—or woman’s—eyes, to try and figure out whether craziness or a plan motivated the person.
The fighter’s lasers fired again. A bunch of short bursts hammered the shuttle. Less power than she would have expected from the blows, and the shield strength barely dipped.
Hazel fired a second missile. “That’ll give him something to think about besides shooting at us.” She prodded the comm panel. “Lieutenant Frog, are you still on duty over there? Any time you want to swoop in and display some cunning heroics, we’d appreciate it.”
“We
are
en route,” came Captain Mandrake’s dry reply.
Hazel looked sheepish when he responded personally. Her tone was considerably more respectful when she said, “Appreciate it, sir.”
“You have my cargo?”
“A shifty fellow in black? Yes, sir.”
Though Jamie was trying to focus on the fighter and varying her route so it couldn’t close to fire again, she glanced back at their passenger. She hadn’t thought him shifty. He had been quite polite when he had rushed to her assistance, and unlike so many of the men in the company, he had looked at her
face
while talking to her.
He was still standing in the back, leaning against the hull casually, watching the situation through calm hooded eyes. He either had a lot of faith in her or had been in a lot of space battles, because he looked like he could doze off at any moment. However, he did give her a slight nod when their eyes met. Ankari gave Jamie a nod, too, maybe thinking the look back was a request for support from the boss.