Chapter 14
Bangs and thumps sounded on the other side of the airlock hatch. Alisa stood by herself in the cargo hold, the weapons belt hanging at her waist the only sign that she might put up a fight. She would be foolish to do so, however. It had crossed her mind to station all of her people behind cover and open fire when the pirates charged in, but they would be in combat armor, and would far outnumber her forces.
Besides, a firefight wouldn’t do anything to free Mica and Alejandro. Better for her to stand here, as she was, and be the distraction. She had stuffed Beck, Yumi, and Leonidas into one of the hidden nooks in the cargo hold—the entrance looked like nothing more than a bulkhead to an observer. She hoped that the pirates would take her and not search too hard for others. She had considered climbing into that nook herself, leaving an empty ship for them to find, but the pirates would surely search until they found crew. They would know the ship hadn’t been flying itself.
She smiled, remembering Beck and Leonidas both arguing to have the honor of being the decoy, both saying that being captured might be even worse for a woman. She wouldn’t argue that, but they were the most likely to be able to sneak onto the ship after she was taken and free everyone. As much as she hated the idea of needing to be saved—and in putting her fate in someone else’s hands—this seemed most logical. She just hoped she wouldn’t regret it.
The hatch banged open.
Alisa could have locked it, but then they would have torched their way in, and the ship might not have been spaceworthy afterward. The odds were stacked against her, but she still had the vain hope that she might collect her people and fly away from this.
The boarding party appeared to be the same group of pirates that she had seen on the camera, men wearing a mishmash of combat armor and weapons. Her gut tightened when she spotted something she hadn’t noticed in the footage, tufts of hair adorning several of their belts. Human hair. Scalps.
The pirates charged onto the ship, surrounding her, six blazer rifles and pistols pointed at her.
Alisa stood with her arms spread, struggling to keep from panicking. Maybe she should have asked Yumi about that breathing thing she did. She reasoned that if the men started pummeling her—or worse—right here in the cargo hold that Leonidas and the others would come out to stop it. They couldn’t see what was happening from their hidden niche, but they would hear if she started screaming. She gulped, hoping she was not given a reason to start screaming.
Four more men in armor jogged into the cargo hold. They diverted immediately toward the stairs, charging up to search the rest of the ship. Even if their suits had sensor units, they shouldn’t be able to see the life forms hidden in the walls—that nook was shielded. Alisa’s mother had hidden her meager valuables inside of it. It was likely that some past owner of the Nomad had installed the space for smuggling cargo.
One of the pirates came forward and unclasped her weapons belt, taking her guns and multitool. Then he stepped back, lifting his rifle and aiming at her chest again, as the others were still doing.
Alisa waited for someone to talk, to ask her for the story she had rehearsed, the story that explained that yes, she was the only one left on this ship. No, of course she did not have any allies… The pirates had already taken her people.
Heavy boots clanged in the distance, someone walking across the landing bay that the Nomad had been sucked into by that grab beam. The even tread had an ominous ring to it. As did the way the pirates stood utterly still, waiting for the owner of the tread to arrive.
Alisa’s breath caught when a man in crimson combat armor strode through the hatchway, a rifle cradled in his arms. There weren’t any scalps dangling from the utility belt, but she doubted that meant she would be safe with him.
The owner of the armor wore his helmet, and was not close enough for her to see through the faceplate, but she could not help but think that it was Leonidas, that he had somehow gotten outside of the ship. But no, she had locked him into the cubby not five minutes ago. This was someone else. Someone else in Cyborg Corps armor. She hoped it was just some scruffy pirate who had managed to steal the suit, not someone that could equal—or best—Leonidas in a fight. But she recalled the discussion they’d had about the security trap on the station, about the possibility that the pirates, too, had a cyborg.
The red suit stopped in front of her, the pirates shifting to the side to make room.
“One girl?” a hollow voice rang out from inside the helmet. “I put on all of this for one girl?” The gauntleted hand flicked, gesturing toward the owner’s torso.
“The rest of the men are searching for more, Sublime Commander,” a nervous-sounding pirate said.
Sublime Commander? Alisa almost choked on the ostentatious title. Only a pirate…
The figure lowered his rifle, letting it dangle on its shoulder harness, and lifted his hands, thumbing the buttons that released the helmet. The man—or the cyborg?—lifted it free. He gazed down at her. With short black hair, dark eyes, and bronze skin, nothing about his features reminded Alisa of Leonidas, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a cyborg. It wasn’t as if those people were genetically related. As far as she knew, they were just men who fit the physical criteria and volunteered for the procedure and the life in the military. This fellow did have a thickly muscled neck, and he would have been tall and brawny even without the armor adding mass.
He quirked a smile at her and stepped forward, lifting a hand. Alisa tried to skitter back, but the muzzle of a rifle poked her between the shoulders. Even if she’d had more room, it would not have mattered. That hand darted in with a viper’s speed—maybe more than a viper’s speed—and grabbed her by the front of her shirt and jacket. He lifted her from her feet, nearly ripping the material of her shirt and half-choking her in the process.
A cruel glint entered his eyes. Apparently, he enjoyed half-choking women.
“You don’t look like an imperial officer,” he observed.
“Nothing gets by those cyborg eyes, does it?” she gasped out, struggling to breathe. Being lippy with this thug was probably even more ill-advised than being lippy with Leonidas, but she had more in mind than annoying him. She wanted to see his reaction, to find out if he was a cyborg. The servos in the combat armor could have given a regular man the strength to lift her—she wasn’t exactly a behemoth.
“Nothing,” he breathed, leaning his face close to hers. “Where is he?”
“Who?”
“The imperial officer who had the command codes to lower the shields on my bombers.”
Oh, shit. If her feet hadn’t been dangling above the ground, Alisa would have kicked herself for her mistake. Why hadn’t she claimed to be an imperial officer? There had been hundreds of thousands of soldiers in the empire’s armies. It wasn’t as if he could have known if she had lied.
“You think other people haven’t gotten those codes?” Alisa tried for a laugh—it came out like more of a strangled cough. What were the odds that this brute would put her down someday soon?
“You couldn’t use them even if you had them, little girl.”
She sneered at him. “I can use a lot of things I’m not supposed to.”
Damn it, that had sounded more clever in her head. Obviously, there was a shortage of oxygen reaching her brain.
More boots clanged on the metal of her walkways.
“Haven’t found anything, Sublime Commander,” one of the pirates reported, the scalps on his belt swaying as he trotted down the steps. “Might be she’s the only one here. We got the engineer and the doctor. Could be her whole crew.”
“She’s not alone. The bears would have gotten her if she had been wandering around that station alone.”
The pirate who had reported touched a scar on his cheek. “That’s the truth. Glad you’re here to go in with us next time, sir. Lost three men last month when we tried. Don’t know how them bastards got on that asteroid, but they’re not looking to let the station go easy.” He looked at
Alisa. “Reckon we can go in soon, seeing as this ship hasn’t blowed itself up yet.”
The cyborg—Alisa refused to think of him as the sublime commander—lowered her to the deck. Unfortunately, he did not let her go. Instead, he yanked her close, and her shoulder clunked hard against his torso protector. His hand wrapped around her throat before she could attempt to squirm away. Three suns, she hated feeling helpless, but it was as if his hands were ahridium vises clamped around her.
Elbowing him in the gut or the crotch was out of the question—aside from his head, every inch of him was covered in that armor. And she was too short to thunk her skull into his nose.
“Imperial officer,” the cyborg called, his voice echoing in the empty cargo hold. “If you want this woman to live, show yourself.”
Several of the pirates shifted, pointing their weapons toward the walls of the hold instead of at her. Alisa tried to swallow, but the hand wrapped around her neck prevented it. This wasn’t at all how she had imagined this exchange going. She was supposed to be a diversion that would allow her team to sneak in and strike, not a pawn to be used against them. Why couldn’t the pirates have just dragged her off and thrown her in a cell with the others?
“So slow to respond,” the cyborg said. “Hm, where shall we start?” He pushed Alisa out to arm’s length.
“We could take her, sir,” one of the men offered, leering at her chest. “That ought to flush anyone out. And if there’s nobody to flush, then we’d still have a good time.”
“Take her where?” the cyborg asked.
Alisa stared at him. He couldn’t possibly have missed the man’s meaning.
“You know, screw her, sir.”
“Oh.” The cyborg’s nose wrinkled, as if he was too good for such base actions. “I doubt you want your cock hanging out if a bunch of armed men jump out of hiding.”
“I’d risk it. She’s got a nice ass.”
Alisa gritted her teeth, more annoyed with her helplessness than the conversation—she’d heard worse in the army.
“What are you doing here, Cyborg?” she asked to buy time while she groped for inspiration. What could she do to get herself out of this situation? “It’s lowly working for pirates after being a soldier in the empire, isn’t it?”
Not that she considered the empire any better than a bunch of pirates, but he doubtlessly would.
His lip quirked up in what seemed a regular gesture for him, half smile, half sneer. “You think I’m working for them? I lead this outfit now.”
Alisa looked to the ring of pirates and got a few nods of confirmation.
“Imperial officer,” the cyborg called again. “You’ve had your warning.”
Before Alisa had a chance to brace herself, his thumb dug into the tender flesh under the edge of her jaw. Her body went rigid, her spine stiffening, and a gasp slipped out. His other hand went down to the side of her stomach, digging in like a knife, finding an excruciating pressure point. She couldn’t keep from crying out, especially since the iron bar from that grid had dug a gouge near that spot earlier. She started bleeding again, warmth trickling down her side. She barely noticed, as he switched to other carefully selected points, knowing better than she what would create pain so intense that she couldn’t keep from crying out. And feeling utterly useless. A failure. How had she even ended up in this mess? She just wanted to find her daughter and make a new home, start over with the only family she had left.
Metal clanged.
With the pain hazing her mind, it took Alisa a moment to realize what it signified. The cover on the hidden hatch being kicked out.
The pain lessened as the cyborg loosened his grip on her, letting his fingers merely rest on the pressure points rather than digging in. Warm tears trickled down her cheeks. She hated herself for it, but she was relieved that the others had given themselves up.
The cyborg’s grip tightened again, and she cringed, anticipating more pain. But he wasn’t attacking her. He had stiffened himself, his head turned to the side, toward Leonidas. He was walking toward them slowly, his helmet off, his hands empty at his sides, though he still wore his armor, armor that appeared identical to that which the pirate leader wore.
“You,” the pirate cyborg breathed. He sounded stunned.
Though Alisa didn’t want to look at Leonidas, didn’t want him to see the tears in her eyes or how weak she had been, curiosity made her turn her head. This new cyborg recognized him.
“Me,” Leonidas agreed, his voice cool, his face a mask. His eyes were locked upon the pirate leader; he did not acknowledge Alisa whatsoever.
“Never thought I’d see you hide behind a woman’s skirts, Colonel.”
Colonel? No wonder he had been so comfortable flinging commands around. So much for her initial guess that he was a sergeant. The revelation did not matter much now, though, not unless he had outranked this would-be pirate king and could cow him.
“That wasn’t the original plan,” Leonidas said.
“No shit.” The pirate cyborg laughed. The men stirred, exchanging uncertain glances with each other. “So you’re the one who killed my bombers. Damn, sir, one of those was my own craft that I flew out here. You know, back before I had an enormous ship.” He spread a hand toward the ceiling and walls to encompass the lumbering mining vessel.
Alisa held her breath, finding that “sir” that had slipped out worthy of hope.
“You’re working with pirates now?” Leonidas asked, his tone neutral, not as condemning as Alisa would have expected.
“As I was telling your girl, they’re my pirates.” The cyborg clenched a fist and smiled.
None of the ten men watching said anything to deny the statement.
“I took the ship, made the current leader my lieutenant,” the cyborg continued. “We’re going to start a whole fleet out here. I even thought I might get more of our old battalion to join. You interested, Colonel?”
Alisa nearly choked on his audacity. After Leonidas’s talk of honor and after he had balked at her scavenging that station, she sincerely doubted he would be interested in joining up with people who fired on unarmed freighters and wore scalps on their belts.
“You want me to work under you, Malik?” Leonidas arched an eyebrow.
“I did commandeer the ship and do the hard work whipping these men into shape. I wouldn’t be looking to lord it over you, Colonel. You were always fair. Not like those human officers, all stiff from having their pricks shoved up their asses.”
“We’re human too,” Leonidas said in that familiar dry tone of his. Alisa could read the disapproval in there. She wasn’t sure if the pirate cyborg—Malik—could.
“We’re better than human.”
“I see.”
“Join us, Colonel. Join my team. If you don’t… well, I’m sure you can understand. I’d rather not get in a fight with you, but I can’t have you competing with me, either.” Malik’s dark eyes narrowed, a warning in them.
Alisa lost some of her hope that he might stand down if Leonidas gave an order.
Leonidas tilted his head. “I’d have to consider it. Let’s talk.”
Malik hesitated, his eyes still slitted. “And your people?” He flicked his fingers casually toward Alisa, but she sensed a trap being laid. If Leonidas demanded that she and the others be left alone, would this Malik find it suspicious? How far did he trust what sounded like his old commander?
“My people?” Leonidas grunted. “I needed a ride out here. She’s the pilot of this barge. I’ve known her for a week.”
“So you don’t care about her fate? You rushed out here quickly enough when she started crying.”
Alisa glared at the cyborg. If not for that armor, she would have kicked him. She was tempted to do it, anyway, but she would only end up breaking her toes.
“I’m not an animal, Malik,” Leonidas said, that dryness in his tone again, as if none of this particularly bothered or concerned him. “I don’t want to see a woman tortured.”
“Who cares about human women? You’re too damned noble, Colonel. You think any of them care worm suck about us?”
For the first time, Leonidas looked over at Alisa, meeting her eyes. She held his gaze, but she couldn’t help but think of the way she had called him “cyborg” for most of the week. And “mech,” Beck’s favorite slur, when she had been pissed at him.
“No, likely not,” Leonidas agreed.
“Well, we don’t have to torture them. These craven bastards used to kill people, scalp ’em and make jewelry from their bones before I came along. They were trying to make themselves seem scary, or so they say. I figure let’s make some money. Sell them into slavery. The trade’s picking up nicely without anyone out here policing the Dark Reaches. We can make a lot of money. Carve out an empire of our own. There’d be nobody telling us what to do anymore. Say, were you in the station? Did you find the doctor? I figure the same thing brought us both out here.”
“Oh?”
“The latest parts he was working on—to make us stronger, faster.” Malik clenched his fist again, his eyes lighting up.
Alisa shifted uneasily. Leonidas was hard to read right now. Was that what had brought him to the station? A desire for improvement parts? A little upgrade to the operating system?
“I did come out to see him,” Leonidas said. “He’s dead.”
“Damn. I was afraid of that when I heard from my new men that they’d found the place but half of them had gotten themselves eaten by animals while investigating it.” Malik thumped his fist against his torso, the gauntlets clanging hollowly off the chest plate. “I plan to deal with those animals later, but let’s go talk in private without the goons listening, eh?” He pointed at one of his “goons.” “Take the woman and whoever else is in that bolt hole and dump them in the pens with the others.” He extended a hand toward the open hatchway, an invitation. “Colonel?”
Leonidas inclined his head once and walked toward the hatch with Malik. He did not look back as the pirates closed on Alisa, grabbing her and hoisting her from her feet.