Survivor Skills

  “Did you get it cleaned up?” the guard demanded, looking up from the screen he was watching.

  “Yes. The General ordered us to take it immediately to the disposal unit in case of contamination,” she said. “He is concerned there might be alien parasites in the Knight’s discharge.”

  The guard blanched and motioned for them to move on. “Get it out of here. If the General is concerned about it, then I sure don’t want to have to deal with it,” the guard growled.

  La’Rue turned away and rolled her eyes. It was a good thing she had killed the General. Otherwise there was an excellent chance that this guy would end up floating in space – without wearing a spacesuit. It would probably still happen when Andri found out that his favorite General had been killed and his other almost favorite one had disappeared.

  That’s if we get out of here alive so I can enjoy it, she ruefully thought as they exited the detention block and turned in the opposite direction to the disposal units.

  The journey to the bay where La’Rue’s freighter was located felt like it took them forever. There had only been one slight delay which Sergi had effectively dealt with in a nonchalant manner. The service panel was going to start stinking in a few days.

  “H, open the lower hatch,” Sergi quietly ordered.

  The lower hatch separated before the platform was lowered. He helped Julia out of the cart before they both helped a very pale Roan out of its confines and over the edge. The moment the cart was empty, La’Rue guided it to the far end of the bay. Hurrying back, she stepped onto the platform and pressed the controller button.

  Within minutes, they had Roan in La’Rue’s small, but fairly well equipped medical room. Sergi helped Roan lay back on the bed. Julia immediately began cutting his shirt away from the wound. La’Rue handed Julia an unfamiliar to her medical device. Julia looked back at La’Rue with a confused expression.

  “Maybe I should do this,” La’Rue reluctantly offered. “We need to know how to get off this ship without getting blown up or having a thousand fighters using us for target practice. General Landais appears to be the only one who knows how to accomplish that at the moment.”

  Roan turned his head to look up at her. He winced as he tried to reach into the pocket of his trousers. An amused, pain-filled smile curved his face when Julia gently slapped his hand away and reached her own hand into his pocket.

  “You are good at slapping my hand away,” he teased in a strained voice.

  “Shut up,” Julia instructed at the same time as La’Rue looked at Roan with an expression of distaste.

  “That is just so wrong on way too many levels to mention. He’s flirting while lying here about to bleed out and we could be captured again at any moment,” she muttered with a shake of her head.

  “Where does this need to go?” Sergi asked, stepping closer to the bed and taking the disk that Julia had pulled free.

  Roan looked at Sergi. “One of my former crew members was able to shut down my Battle Cruiser with the programming on that disk. I’ve added my authorization to it. I doubt Coleridge would have thought to have restricted my access yet. This needs to be inserted into the main computer panel. Once installed, it will initiate a complete shutdown of all systems, including environmental. That will force the crew to evacuate into designated life support areas until all of the ship’s systems reset. This should give us enough time to get through the rings and make a jump. The fighter bays will be locked down,” Roan explained in a voice laced with exhaustion.

  “How do we get it down there?” La’Rue asked, glancing at Roan’s pale face etched with pain.

  She applied a pain inhibitor. Almost immediately, Roan’s body relaxed. She cleansed the wound before applying the tissue regenerator over it. The nanobots would work on cleaning and repairing any damaged organs and tissue. It was an older model unit, but still worked – not that she had used it all that often.

  “I will take it,” Sergi said.

  La’Rue’s head jerked up. “No! It is only a matter of time before they discover General Landais’ body and the ship will go into lock down,” she snapped.

  “I will go,” Roan said, holding the tissue regenerator to his side as he struggled to sit up.

  “No, you will not. You’d collapse before you made it half way down the corridor,” Julia retorted, pushing against his shoulder and forcing him back down on the bed. “Sergi is very good at what he does.”

  La’Rue saw a wary expression come into Sergi’s eyes. Julia was looking at Sergi with a slight smile and an amused expression. La’Rue decided right then and there that she would have liked Julia even if the other woman hadn’t kicked Coleridge Landais in the balls.

  “H can go. He can get into places most people can’t,” La’Rue suggested.

  Roan frowned. “Who is H?”

  La’Rue grinned. “Only the smartest service robot in the entire galaxy,” she boasted.

  Sergi nodded. “I will second that,” he agreed, curling his fingers around the chip.

  La’Rue looked at Julia. “Make sure the General here doesn’t move or touch anything. We’ll be back,” she ordered.

  “She is almost as bossy as you are,” he muttered to Julia.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” Julia dryly replied.

  La’Rue turned and started for the door, following Sergi. Behind her, she heard Roan Landais release a frustrated grunt. Exiting the room, she hoped they weren’t making a mistake by taking the Legion General with them.

  Pain radiated through Coleridge’s head and chest. His hand rose to the area just over his heart. He could feel the scorched cloth there. Fortunately, the blast – even at such close range – had not penetrated the protective shield he wore under his uniform. He couldn’t say as much for his head.

  Rolling to his side, he pushed up off the floor. He touched his throbbing temple. His fingers probed around the deep gash. He looked at their blood covered tips before he scanned the room.

  The image of vivid blue eyes swept through his mind. One of the guards had been the other Ancient Knight – the one from the freighter. He would kill the man and both women. Rising to his feet, he felt for his comlink. It was missing, along with all of his weapons and his security key.

  He stumbled to the door. Without the key, he was locked inside. Lifting his hand, he brought his fist up against the door of the detention cell. It took nearly a dozen poundings on it before the door opened. The guard looked back at him in shock.

  “Gen… General Landais,” the man stuttered, stepping back when Coleridge stepped out of the cell.

  “Where did they go?” Coleridge demanded.

  The guard looked confused. “Who, sir?” the man asked, looking at him with a blank expression.

  The rage that Coleridge was feeling grew at the guard’s inept response. He grabbed the guard by the front of his uniform and drew him closer. His other hand reached for the guard’s weapon.

  “There were two guards. Where did they go?” Coleridge demanded in a hard, low voice.

  The guard pointed toward the exit. “They… They took the… the soiled materials to the disposal unit,” the man replied.

  “Give me your comlink and security card,” Coleridge ordered.

  He took the items from the guard’s trembling fingers before he pressed the weapon he had also taken to the guard’s side and pulled the trigger. Stepping over the dead guard, he held the pistol ready as he swiped the security key over the control panel mounted on the wall by Roan’s cell door.

  The first thing Coleridge saw was the discarded wrist restraints that had been on Roan. A quick scan of the small cell showed it was empty. Turning, Coleridge exited the cell. His hand lifted the comlink to his mouth.

  “Level Five alert. There are two escaped prisoners from the maximum security detention cells. One of the prisoners is General Roan Landais. Have every soldier remove their helmet. There are two members of the Rebellion on board. Check the lower detention cells for the freighter captain,?
?? Coleridge ordered as he strode out of the detention block toward the bridge.

  Coleridge stepped onto the bridge at the same time as the first alarms began to sound. He turned to face the man striding toward him. He scanned the bridge. His officers were scrambling to contain the situation.

  “Status report, Commander Manta,” Coleridge demanded.

  “The systems are shutting down, General Landais. There appears to be a full system override bypassing the security protocols. Each system is shutting down in a random order,” Commander Manta replied.

  “What of the freighter captain?” Coleridge asked.

  “Gone, sir, along with the freighter, although there is no record of it having left our ship,” Commander Manta replied.

  Coleridge’s mind raced through the possible scenarios. “If there are no records that the freighter has left then I suggest that you have a team search for it,” he replied through gritted teeth.

  “Yes, General Landais,” Commander Manta replied.

  “Shut down the alarms and find a way to stop the ship from being disabled,” Coleridge growled to the men and women on the bridge.

  Coleridge turned and strode for his office adjacent to the bridge. He dismissed the Medical Officer who had appeared as he was about to enter his office. Instead, he took the medical kit from the man and continued through the open doorway.

  The door closed behind him. Coleridge walked over to his desk and tossed the medical kit on it before turning to pour himself a drink. Returning to his desk, he picked up the medical kit and walked into his cleansing room.

  In a few minutes, he had cleaned the blood off of his hands and face, doctored his wounds, and changed into a clean uniform. He frowned, and his lips tightened when the lights began to flicker. Tossing the used medical items and his ruined uniform into the disposal unit in the wall, he exited the cleansing room.

  “Computer, bring up the ship’s status,” he ordered.

  “System shut down imminent,” the computer responded.

  Coleridge was scanning the log of the systems shutting down when there was a chime at the door. Looking up, he gave a sharp command to enter. Commander Manta stepped into the room.

  “One of the technicians has discovered the cause of the issue. She is currently repairing the damage,” Commander Manta informed him.

  “And the freighter?” Coleridge asked.

  Commander Manta’s mouth tightened. “The landing bay where it was placed has been opened. We believe the freighter has some type of concealing shield. We are tracking the engine’s heat signature left behind. It has turned back toward the planet,” he explained.

  “Order the other Battle Cruisers to deploy their fighters. Destroy the freighter – and the Plateauans,” Coleridge ordered.

  “I’ll order the attack immediately, General Landais,” Commander Manta responded with a stiff bow of his head before he backed out of the room.

  Coleridge started to turn away when a notification sounded on his computer. He glanced at the screen. Andri’s image appeared. Irritation flared inside him. He flexed his fingers. The last thing he wanted to deal with now was his half-brother’s arrogance.

  Turning on his heel, he left the room and stepped onto the bridge. Minutes later, he was disembarking the lift onto the fighter bay level below. It was time to show his son what it felt like to be on the opposite side of the Legion – and to feel the full force of its devastation.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Where did you get this?” Roan asked, picking up the staff that Sergi had placed on a cabinet near a panel he had opened.

  Sergi warily watched as Roan turned the staff in his hands. He watched the other man run the tips of his fingers over the design. Roan finally looked up at him when he didn’t immediately answer.

  “I took it off of your father,” Sergi admitted.

  Roan frowned. “Do you know what this is?” he asked.

  Sergi nodded and turned his attention back to the control panel. La’Rue had asked him to make sure that everything was lit up, just in case one of the Legion soldiers had disabled the weapons system’s main power controls. He checked each row and saw that the green light was on next to the indicator for the small cannons that had been retrofitted while they were on the moon base.

  “Yes, I know, but do you?” Sergi countered, stepping back and closing the panel. He turned to look at Roan. “This weapon, it holds a lot of meaning, da? It was not given to use as a symbol of suppression, but as one of hope and protection.”

  Roan’s mouth tightened before he slid the weapon into the pocket of his jacket. Sergi could tell there would be no more discussion about it with the man. He thought about requesting the return of the staff, but his gut told him that it had found its rightful place.

  “What type of weapons do you have on board?” Roan asked, nodding toward the panel behind him.

  “The freighter was retrofitted with several auto-cannons. There wasn’t much time to add more. We wanted to intercept you in case you found Julia,” Sergi replied.

  “What about shields?” Roan asked.

  Sergi raised an eyebrow. “This is not a fighter or a Battle Cruiser. It has shields. Our biggest asset is our ability to hide in plain sight. La’Rue developed a special paint that, when combined with the shielding, bends the light around the ship making it virtually invisible to the viewer,” he explained.

  Roan frowned. “That would work on the planet or in space as long as the ship’s engines weren’t emitting any heat signatures. Otherwise, scanners would be able to track the freighter through its propulsion system,” he reasoned.

  Sergi nodded in agreement. “Which is why we are searching for a place to hide. There is no way we could out-distance the fighters or even the slower Battle Cruisers,” he admitted.

  Roan lifted a hand and ran it across his bruised jaw. Sergi knew what the other man was thinking – a few bruises would be the least of their concerns. Both men turned when they heard La’Rue call out to the men. Sergi could tell from her voice that time had run out for them.

  “We have company,” La’Rue said in an urgent tone.

  “I need to take over. If we are in a battle against Legion fighters, we’ll need more than a freighter captain at the helm,” Roan growled.

  “La’Rue isn’t your typical freighter captain,” Sergi reassured him as they strode down the corridor.

  La’Rue glanced over her shoulder when Sergi and Roan stepped into the narrow confines of the freighter’s cockpit. She returned her attention to the screen where the few dots identifying the locations of the Legion fighters had grown to a swarm of them. There was nowhere to hide.

  “Let me take over,” Roan ordered.

  La’Rue shot the Legion General a heated glare. “My ship, my command,” she hotly stated. “H! I need Crock’s maps now!”

  Roan slid into the co-pilot’s seat. La’Rue could sense Sergi sliding into the seat behind her while Julia quietly sat in the navigator’s seat watching HL-9 with fascination as the little robot accessed the database and processed millions of star charts and planetary maps looking for the one La’Rue needed.

  La’Rue was about to snap at the little robot again when the required map appeared. She breathed a sigh of relief. The frozen islands were locked in ice. La’Rue knew where they were, she just didn’t know how to navigate through them.

  “La’Rue, this is my world. I know how to navigate through the frozen islands. Your map is outdated,” Roan quietly informed her.

  La’Rue glanced at the man sitting next to her before looking back at all of the Legion fighters closing in on them. She released a frustrated breath. Unfastening her harness, she slid out of her seat and looked pointedly at him.

  “Don’t damage my ship,” she growled before she turned and looked at Sergi. “I’ll take the top pulse gun, you take the bottom.”

  Sergi grinned at her. “I love it when you are on top, dusha moya,” he teased, trying to ease her stress.

  Julia releas
ed a delicate cough and looked at La’Rue with a strained smile of amusement. “And you thought Roan’s comment was too much?” she murmured with a raised eyebrow as La’Rue moved past her.

  La’Rue rolled her eyes and took off running down the corridor. She grabbed the ladder as high as she could reach and began to climb. Sergi brushed his hand across her lower back as he swept by. His intended message was clear – be careful.

  She pushed away her fear. There was no way they were going to survive this even if they made it to the floating ice islands. The area was uninhabited as far as she knew. All she had to go by was what Crock had told her. Since the man had been delivering to Plateau for nearly a century, she figured he knew what he was talking about.

  La’Rue slid into the swiveling gun chair and powered it on. The freighter had originally come with two pulse cannons. They fired powerful shots but were only good at close distances. The newer auto-cannons that had been installed were made to keep your enemy at a respectful distance.

  She felt the moment the cannons locked on to targets and began to fire. The fighters were following their heat trail. This was another reason she had wanted to reach the frozen islands. The intense cold there would help conceal them.

  “Sergi, can you hear me?” La’Rue asked, turning around and looking at the screen in front of her as it locked onto and displayed the approaching fighters.

  “I hear you,” Sergi replied.

  She swallowed. The sound of his voice soothed her. Releasing a sigh, she allowed the warmth of his voice to surround her.

  “I love you,” she quietly murmured. “If anything happens…. I want you to know that I love you.”

  The silence in the comlink was deafening. She finally heard him draw in a deep breath. When he spoke, there was a fierce determination and resolve in his voice that made her feel like they might actually have a chance of making it out of this alive.