Criselda I, Criselda, Eriuman Republic
There was a single guard patrolling the corridor where the ghostmakers and personal grenades Bellona wanted were stashed. Hero mentally shrugged. A single man was never a problem.
She stepped into the corridor and strolled toward him, letting the combat jacket she had shrugged into before leaving the barracks swing open. She was still naked underneath, because the rushed fools had torn her clothing into shreds. Naked didn’t bother her, but it was cool in the warehouse. Cool became uncomfortable in bare skin.
The guard turned to spot her when he heard her boots on the fused earth surface. As expected, he froze, his lips parting. Hero never got sick of watching someone’s intelligence drain, while the lizard brain took over. She often wondered if it would ever fail to work this way.
She smiled as she got closer. “Honey, you look bored,” she crooned.
He frowned, scrambling to put it together. “Who…are you?”
Hero reached up and rested her palm against his cheek. He sucked in a breath, startled. She leaned close. “I’m your worst nightmare,” she whispered. She slid her hand from his cheek, her fingertips stroking his flesh. As she lifted her hand away, she let the nail of her index finger scratch across the skin. The pressure was enough to activate the toxin gland.
The guard flinched a little, but his hormones were raging. He completely failed to recognize he would soon be dead. He stood with confusion fighting hope, trying to figure out what was going on.
A ghostmaker bolt took out the back of his head, making Hero jump a little. She had been concentrating on watching arousal flare in the guard’s eyes, waiting for the moment when he recognized just how fucked he really was.
She pouted as the guard dropped soundlessly to the floor and looked up as Khalil strode toward her, the ghostmaker swinging from his hand. “You spoiled it.”
Khalil just shook his head. Bellona and the android were right behind him. The android was checking pallet numbers.
“These two,” he said, pointing at the smallest two in the aisle.
Khalil looked at the two pallets, then up and around the corridor. “That can’t be right.”
Movement behind them made Hero sway around him to spot the newcomers. Thecla, Aideen and Fontana, a scowl on his face. He was a good-looking man for a free stater—or would be, if he ever stopped being angry. She didn’t bother wondering what had him upset now. Everything pissed him off. His constant anger would make it interesting to pull him into a dark corner, except he had other priorities and wouldn’t tolerate even a quick encounter.
Thecla was bleeding. She’d taken one to the chest plate. Lucky her. It could have been her head, like the guard at Hero’s toes. She sighed. The fun was almost over, alas.
Sang looked from one pallet to the other, frowning. “I’ve checked three times. These are the ones we were told about.”
Khalil was counting. “There are only fifteen crates on this one.”
“There were supposed to be fifty ghostmakers,” Bellona said. “Was another ship supplied since we got the data?”
As she spoke, Vang and Retha turned the corner and ran up to where they were. Retha had unbent enough to carry a two-hander. Vang looked happy…and strong. He was freakishly powerful and completely not interested in her. Hero had tried. Vang had no time for anyone but Retha.
Sang shook his head. “No, no shipments. Nothing. The records still say fifty.”
Bellona looked around and over her shoulder. She was beautiful in the way the Eriuman primary clans were all blessed with—perfectly smooth, coffee-colored skin, full lips, black eyes and glossy hair, a figure molded by a fighter’s muscles. Plus, she was strong. Not just woman-strong, but gutsy, courageous and driven. It made Bellona more than beautiful. It made her sexy to her bones, although Hero didn’t for a moment entertain the idea of approaching her. Khalil would kill her for trying, if Bellona didn’t.
“Three minutes since we entered. Too long. Where’s Hayes? We need that truck,” Bellona muttered.
“We’re going to take the stuff, anyway?” Khalil asked.
“No choice. We must arm ourselves. We still need to make a statement, too.”
“If the records say there are fifty, then that’s what they’re going to say you made off with,” Fontana pointed out. “It’ll still sound big.”
“Twelve boxes of personal mines,” Aideen said, glancing at the second pallet, then going back to watching anything that moved. Hero didn’t see her pause to count them, but she was freaky in that way. In all ways, she was strange. Counting and numbers were her weird-good thing.
“Here’s Hayes and the truck,” Retha said quietly, nodding down the corridor.
Hero glanced over her shoulder. The big giant was lumbering down the corridor, directing the midget truck with his thighs, the two-hander ghostmaker clutched in his big right hand. He looked embarrassed about arriving last.
“Transfer the guns over to the mine pallet,” Bellona said. “They’re lighter. Move it,” she added, her tone urgent. She put her knife away and bent to pick up one of the crates. Moving quickly, so did the other eight.
As they combined the contents of the two pallets onto one, Hayes fumbled with moving the truck into position to hitch the pallet controls. He was only using one hand. The other hung uselessly by his side.
Hero bumped him aside with her hip. She tried, at least. Hayes was a solid wall and didn’t move.
“Let me at it,” she told him. “You’re useless.”
Hayes glanced at Bellona, who wasn’t paying any attention. He nodded and stepped aside. His face was red.
Hero studied the controls, then moved the truck into position with the manual guidance ball. She completed the hitch and the pallet quivered and lifted a hand-span off the ground. The others completed stacking it and Bellona nodded at her. “Know where to go?”
Hero looked up at the roof, where the square cargo door was showing as a dark shadow. “Yeah.”
“Fast as you can, then,” Bellona said.
Hero got the truck moving. “Fast” was relative. She could still outpace the thing at full speed. Just one truck, though, could haul a pallet loaded to the roofline with heavy armaments. They were slow but mighty.
The others trod alongside the pallet, watching for guards, as she threaded the truck through the maze to the center of the room. The lift plate was down and the truck slid over the lip. The lift guided it until the pallet was in the center, then the truck unhitched itself, trundled off the plate and down the corridor. It would return itself to the truck bay.
“Sang,” Bellona said sharply, as they all stepped onto the plate beside the weapons.
Sang was frowning, peering down at his feet. Then he looked up overhead. “There’s a problem.”
“Just one?” Fontana asked dryly, hitching his ghostmaker.
“Connie is…panicked.” Sang winced. “More than that.”
“Forget Connie,” Khalil said. “We’ll cuddle her later. Get the lift moving, Sang. You’re connected. We are not.”
Sang kept his head up. The plate moved with a soft sigh and lifted away from the floor. There was a clank of machinery beneath it. The plate rose swiftly and smoothly.
Overhead the doors cracked open and slide apart. Moonless sky and stars appeared.
“Where is the pickup ship?” Thecla demanded, rounding on Sang suspiciously.
“That’s the problem,” Sang said. “No one is there.”
As he spoke, alarms sounded in the warehouse. Dozens of them. Lights flashed. Hero turned to look over at the south end of the warehouse, where the doors to the barracks corridor were located. A dozen or more guards ran through them, ghostmakers in hand.
They hadn’t been spotted yet, but they soon would be and they were completely exposed on the platform.
“Down,” Bellona said, crouching down low. Apparently, she thought the same.
Everyone ducked down, hugging the pallet and crates.
Someone shouted. A ghostmaker bolt streaked over them, searing the air itself. Then another. They both came nowhere near anyone. The angle was too tight. It wouldn’t have been if they’d still been standing.
“Sang, where is the damn ship?” Bellona demanded.
“Gone,” Sang said quietly, still looking up at the stars. “Only Connie remains. She is afraid. The military ships are moving. The alarm has gone up. The Titus is gone.”
“They’re panicking over a conveyor leaving?” Khalil asked, frowning.
Fontana swore. “It was a cruiser. Arany’s people destroyed it,” he said heavily. “Then they fucked off. No wonder the alarm went up.”
Thecla scowled. “They left us here?”
“How are we going to get back to the Alyard?” Aideen asked, her voice rising. Fontana touched her arm, to calm her.
“There’s Connie,” Sang said with the same remote voice. He seemed to be oblivious to the bolts crackling over them and streaking against the edge of the platform with crackles and sparks.
“Tell her to get down here at once,” Bellona said.
“She’s already half-way down,” Sang said. “As soon as the others opened fire upon the Titus, she began her descent.” He pointed. “There.”
The platform was almost level with the roof landing pad now. The guards below were cut off, although there would be more pouring onto the roof any moment. Yet Hero couldn’t help looking up into the sky where Sang was pointing. There was a streak of white there, like a slow-moving shooting star.
“That’s her?” she asked.
“Yes,” Sang confirmed.
Everyone holding a ghostmaker had fanned out around the pallet, protecting it, looking for the first sight of more guards.
“That’s too fast,” Bellona said. “She’ll burn up.”
“She is controlling the descent,” Sang said calmly.
“Barely,” Fontana decided. “Heads up!” He fired off a bolt, which lit up the night air. There were few lights up here as no ship was expected. The bolt illuminated five guards in their purple uniforms. The guards ducked and rolled, splitting up and taking cover behind the environmental units.
“Idiots,” Fontana said and re-aimed. The bolt went through the unit. The guard standing behind staggered to his feet and dropped.
“Fontana!” Aideen said sharply.
He got to his feet, staying hunched over and ran around the pallet to the other side, where everyone else was crouched, including Hero.
Hero looked up. The shooting star had become a distinct object now. Connie was hurtling down at them. From the little Hero knew of the AI, she was probably running to symbolically hide behind them. Helping them would not occur to the foolish ship. Connie’s trajectory and rate of descent made Hero wonder if she was doing any thinking at all. It looked like a lethal drop.
At the last minute, the ship reversed engines.
The roar was deafening. Everyone winced. Aideen clapped her hands over her ears and screamed. Her scream was lost beneath the thunderous, beating noise. The eddies from the reversed engines beat at them. Even the guards lost interest in the pursuit and dived back into their hole.
With the engines throbbing, Connie hovered over them and lowered the cargo ramp.
Fontana, Khalil and Hayes got behind the floating pallet and pushed, straining to get it moving. The antigravs kept it in the air, only all that weight had to be overcome to create horizontal movement. Normal cargo ships would winch the pallet into the hold. Connie wasn’t a normal cargo ship. The ship that should have been here did have a winch.
Vang pushed in between Khalil and Fontana, looking short and stumpy. He shoved at the pallet, the tendons in his neck standing out and his face turning red.
The pallet slid forward, then tilted to ride up the ramp.
“Everyone!” Bellona shouted.
They all got behind the pallet, searched for handholds and pushed. The pallet glided up the ramp a bit at a time, then was finally over the lip.
“Close up, Connie!” Sang shouted.
The ramp lifted up, closing. At the same time, the luxury yacht rose from the landing pad and surged forward.
Everyone grabbed the crates, holding on.
As the ramp closed, the buffeting wind from their passage lessened, then stopped. The ramp sealed with a hiss.
“A bit rough, Connie,” Thecla said.
“I’m so glad you’re back!” Connie said, her young-sounding voice coming through the ship-wide speakers. “I was so frightened! They were burning ships!”
“I know,” Bellona said soothingly. “Take us back to the Alyard, Connie. You’ll have to dodge the sentry ships and mines. Tell the Alyard we’re coming and to have the doors open.”
“I have,” Connie said, sounding calmer. “Three cruisers ahead. Their cannons are primed.”
“Coming!” Khalil said, putting down the ghostmaker. He took off at a run, heading for the bridge.
Aideen paced in a tight little circle, her arms around her middle, whispering in a tight, soft voice.
“Fontana.” Bellona nodded at her.
He moved over to Aideen and spoke quietly.
“Sang,” Bellona said. “Bridge, please. We’re going to have to blast our way out of here. Retha, would you mind running gun control?”
Retha nodded. Even with the clumsy self-defense weapons Connie had, he was still the best marksman among them.
Bellona, Sang and Retha headed for the bridge. As she passed Hero, Bellona snapped, “Hero, get some clothes on!”
“You’re welcome!” Hero called after her.