End Game

  “If you say so. Do you want me to watch the door while you work?”

  “Yes.” He already had his back to her and was pulling some of the canisters off his utility belt.

  Was he going to flood the entire ship with that stuff? No, there wouldn’t be enough. Maybe he thought he could program that clunky old equipment to send it straight up to the bridge. Would the ducts in the rest of this part of the ship be sealed and protected from the vacuum? She was glad he was the one trying to manipulate the system and not her.

  Alisa returned to the door, leaning her helmet close and trying to hear the sound of androids coming before she remembered noise wouldn’t travel out there right now.

  The deck heaved—another round of fire bombarding the ship. How much more could this old garbage scow take? Was Tymoteusz still trying to yank out the station or had he given up on that?

  Her helmet comm beeped. “Captain? You still alive?”

  “Yes, Mica, and I can’t tell you how reassuring it is that you sound like you don’t expect me to be.”

  “I thought you should know we’re about to blow the charges and try to leave.”

  “You haven’t done that yet?” Alisa had figured the Nomad would be long gone by now.

  “You didn’t hear a huge explosion, did you?”

  “I’ve heard a lot of explosions.”

  “Well, ours will be a big one. I wanted to warn you and make sure you weren’t close. This could blow out the hull on this end of the ship.”

  “We’re not close. Do it. Get my—get everyone out of there. Please. While you still can. And then comm Hawk and tell him not to shoot the Nomad. While you’re at it, tell him not to shoot this ship for a few minutes too.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be excited to obey my orders,” Mica said and closed the comm.

  Alisa tried to rub her face, but only clunked her faceplate. She growled, irrationally irritated with the armor that was currently keeping her alive.

  “Ship all right?” Leonidas asked, joining her at the door. He still had the launcher, with a single canister loaded in it, but the ones that had hung on his belt were gone.

  “It’s still here,” Alisa growled, not pleased. She’d thought the Nomad had already left. Would they have the power to leave when they tried? She hadn’t thought to ask how the Nomad would be protected from that explosion. By raising shields? Did they even have power for shields?

  “But leaving?” Leonidas asked, waving at the door sensor.

  “It better be.” Alisa wondered if she’d made the wrong decision. Did Leonidas truly need her help more than her crew did? More than Jelena did?

  The door slid aside, and an android with a blazer pistol floated in the corridor right outside.

  Alisa squawked in surprise and jerked her rifle up. Leonidas reacted more quickly, springing at the android. It fired into his faceplate, but he grabbed it by the arm and swung it toward the ore holding tank they’d passed on the way in.

  It kept firing as it flew away. He pushed off the doorjamb after it, shouting, “Another one!” as he flew away.

  Right after he disappeared from Alisa’s sight, a hand clasped onto the doorjamb in front of her. She leaned out and fired into an android’s face. These were the same two from the blast door. She hoped the miners hadn’t also flung themselves out here, only to die in the vacuum.

  The android took the hit without flinching. He pulled himself around the jamb, grasping for her helmet with his other hand. She slammed her palm into his face. He had a good grip on the doorjamb and didn’t let go, but his head did jerk back. She stepped in, making sure her soles were securely anchored on the deck—that let her use more leverage than her floating opponent could apply—and launched another attack. A series of punches, this time.

  Her blows landed, crunching his machine face, but the android knew no pain. He pulled himself closer despite her flurry of attacks. She tried to duck away, but he lashed out, clipping her helmet with a fist. The power flung her backward into the room. Her back struck hard against machinery, and she almost let go of her rifle. The android pushed away from the jamb and toward her, and she tightened her grip on the weapon. She fired, a sustained beam, trying to cut into the android’s throat, to dismember him, the way Leonidas did when he fought these opponents.

  But he reached her before she came close, hands grasping for her helmet again. She reversed the rifle and clubbed him. Since he was airborne at that moment, with nothing to grab onto, the android flew away from her, toward the ceiling.

  As much as she would enjoy singlehandedly defeating an android one day, it would have to wait. She raced for the door while he was still trying to find a way to right himself. She almost smacked into a detached, floating arm as she ran into the corridor.

  “Dismembering androids again, are you?” she asked.

  Leonidas pointed his rifle through the doorway and fired at the one she had left inside. Alisa hit the button to close the door. He gave her a disgruntled look.

  “You can come back and finish him later if the ship is still here,” she said, firing her weapon at the control panel and—she hoped—destroying the locking mechanism.

  Leonidas started to respond, but the entire corridor quaked, tossing them against each other.

  “We better go,” he said, helping her secure her boots back to the deck. “It won’t take long for the aerosol to reach the bridge. Tiang never said how long the effects take to wear off, so if it works…”

  “We want to be there when it’s at its peak.”

  “Yes.”

  He looked toward the blast door, but must have figured that their enemies might be waiting on the other side. He turned and led Alisa in the opposite direction.

  “Did you memorize the entire layout for the ship?” she asked him.

  “Just the important parts.”

  She touched her hand to a bulkhead as they left the sorting area and grimaced at the trembles coursing through it. She could feel the deck vibrating, and occasionally shifting underfoot. How long would this place stay together? Had the Nomad been able to leave after that explosion? Or was her ship still stuck in the hangar? She hoped not—she was counting on a rescue if the mining vessel blew up, and she and Leonidas ended up floating in space.

  They entered a corridor that ended at another blast door. Leonidas rested his hand on it for a moment, listening—or feeling—for vibrations that would suggest someone on the other side. Alisa dropped to one knee, so she could shoot under it as he lifted it. Once again, he dented it at the bottom, so he could find a grip for his fingers, then heaved upward.

  The corridor was empty. They raced under the door and into a lift.

  “This time, we go up,” Leonidas said.

  An indicator light flashed at the edge of Alisa’s faceplate. The radiation detector. It was letting her know that the levels outside of her suit had grown dangerously high and that it would be wise to get away from the area. She would love to. Just one more task to finish…

  Be careful, a voice spoke into Alisa’s mind. It sounded far away and very weary, or maybe injured.

  Stanislav?

  You can… call me Dad… if you like.

  I’ll keep that in mind. Are you nearby? Are you fighting your brother?

  Yes… and yes.

  Good, Alisa thought. Be careful.

  I see what you’re trying to do, Stanislav told her. I’ll try to… keep him distracted… a few minutes more.

  Did that mean the only reason he hadn’t personally annihilated Alisa and Leonidas was because Stanislav had been distracting Tymoteusz all along? At least since he’d run out of the hangar bay?

  But hurry, Stanislav added. He says he’s… no longer going to… tolerate my disobedience because we’re kin.

  Disobedience? Tell him he’s a lunatic in a bathrobe, not a drill sergeant. Alisa stepped out of the lift after Leonidas. They were back in full gravity, and he took off at a run.

  I’ll keep that in mind, should I deem insults
appropriate.

  Insults are always appropriate. What’s he trying to do with the station? Alisa suspected she should let Stanislav focus on his confrontation instead of peppering him with questions, but without being able to see what was going on outside, she had no idea how the battle was going.

  Claim it as a base and holy shrine where people can come to worship him.

  I’m so glad it’s not something stupid.

  Indeed.

  I imagine his worshippers will enjoy being irradiated while they pray. Did the nut think he could decontaminate the place? After it had soaked up radiation for hundreds of years?

  Stanislav did not answer. He was probably busy trying to deflect some assault from Tymoteusz.

  Alisa did not know if he would hear, but she thought, Thanks for the help. Dad.

  “Almost to the bridge,” Leonidas said, passing doors to crew quarters and control rooms.

  She thought he would sprint the rest of the way—she was barely able to keep up with him now—but they reached another one of those large monitors embedded in a bulkhead. It looked identical to the one he had used to look up the map of the ship. He turned toward it, tapping a few buttons to bring up a view of the ship’s exterior.

  Alisa hadn’t been close enough to see much the last time he’d done that. Only now did she fully see the battle taking place outside. The hulking wheel-shaped form of Alcyone Station floated nearby—much too nearby. The mining ship had succeeded in pulling it out of the rift and had released whatever physical or energy chains it had used. She spotted a tiny shuttle lurking under the station’s wheel—was that Bravo Six? She would have laughed if the battle hadn’t quickly drawn her attention away. She was glad he’d found a place to hide—nobody else would likely get that close to the station, not with the radiation it was emitting. But what did an android care about radiation?

  The eclectic assortment of mafia ships was lined up around the mining ship, protecting it. A couple of imperial warships were out among them. Who had invited them? Alisa’s first hope was that they had come to join the Alliance, to keep these greedy corporate and mafia entities from gaining control of the system. But they weren’t pointing their weapons at the mafia ships; they were pointing them farther away, toward the Alliance fleet, a fleet that wasn’t as large as Alisa had hoped it would be. A great deal of wreckage littered the area around the Alliance vessels, signs of ships that had already been destroyed.

  “You were right,” she whispered, feeling numb as blazer beams and e-cannon blasts streaked across the starry battlefield. “The Alliance isn’t winning.”

  There were small bombers and strikers, just as she had flown, harrying the mafia ships, with some getting through to pepper the mining ship, but they were outnumbered, thanks to those imperial ships. When had they decided to jump into bed with the mafia? Bastards.

  “No,” Leonidas agreed grimly. He left the display on and continued down the corridor, his stride determined.

  Alisa knew she needed to follow him, but she lingered, hoping to catch sight of the Nomad. The freighter wasn’t on the camera display. She hoped that meant Mica had flown the other way and that they were staying safe, staying out of the battle.

  She took a step after Leonidas but halted when an Alliance warship exploded in a ball of fiery orange, so big and bright that it dwarfed the suns for a moment. She gaped, her gaze riveted. Stunned. It had been toward the back of the formation, and nobody had been attacking it. She would have seen the weapons blasts streaking toward it, and she hadn’t.

  “Tymoteusz?” she whispered. “And the staff?”

  If he had waved his magical stick and done that… not only was that terrifying, but it meant that Leonidas’s trick hadn’t worked. Tymoteusz was awake and well on the bridge. Tiang’s drug either had never reached him or he’d combatted it somehow.

  “Leonidas,” she said, but he had already disappeared around a bend.

  She raced after him. She had to warn him before it was too late.

  Alisa caught up with Leonidas in front of a pair of double doors. The doors to the bridge. Fortunately, he hadn’t gone in yet. He seemed to be preparing himself, rifle in one hand, launcher with its one remaining canister in the other, and what looked like a grenade dangling from a pinkie finger.

  “He’s still alive and fighting,” Alisa blurted, her breathing ragged after that last sprint. “Tymoteusz.”

  “I assumed,” Leonidas said.

  “I saw an Alliance warship blow up without any weapons striking it. It might have been the flagship. It was in the back. If Stanislav was on there, there’s nobody left to oppose Tymoteusz.” Or teach Jelena, she thought, emotion thickening her throat. She forced it down to deal with later. “And if Hawk and Agosti got killed…” If that happened, the entire fleet would fall back. What remained of it. How had that damned Henneberry woman gotten so many mafia people willing to go toe-to-toe with the military? Or was Tymoteusz somehow extending his control over them, the same way he had been with the miners? Who in all the hells could do so much? It was like fighting a god out of Old Earth mythology. Who could win against a god?

  “I doubt we’ll surprise him either,” Leonidas said. He lowered his voice. “That’s why I want you to take the helm while I run in there and do my best to kill him.”

  “Take the helm?” Alisa gaped at him.

  “Stanislav told me what the rift cycle is now—the Alliance people have kept a ship out here to study it. It’s shorter than it used to be. We have twenty minutes before it closes. I’ve been keeping track since he told me.”

  “And?” Alisa asked, not following him. She shifted from foot to foot, half expecting Tymoteusz to fling the doors open any second and blast them to death with that staff.

  “I want you to fly this barge into the rift. With all the damage it’s taken, I’m wagering that will be a one way trip.” Leonidas smiled grimly behind his faceplate. “I don’t care how powerful his staff is. There’s not going to be anywhere over there to buy replacement parts.”

  Alisa felt her mouth drop open. “That’ll be suicide for us. We’ll be stuck over there too. Until we die horribly of radiation poisoning.”

  She wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t know. She could see it in his eyes. He’d intended all along for this to be a suicide mission. Maybe he’d hoped the drug would work and that flying the ship into the rift wouldn’t be necessary, but he’d had this backup plan all along.

  “I know,” he said softly. “That’s why I didn’t want you to stay with me. But… I may not have been able to do it alone.”

  “You need a pilot.”

  “I need a pilot.” Tears pricked at Alisa’s eyes. She tried to dash them away but only banged her armored knuckles against her faceplate. “Damn it, Leonidas. This wasn’t the plan.”

  “I know, but the last thing the system needs now is an ultra powerful dictator in charge.”

  He turned toward the doors, but she hugged him before he could hit the controls, careful not to knock his weapons or that grenade out of his hands.

  He leaned his faceplate against hers. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.” She wanted to say more, that there had to be a better option if they could just take a minute to think, but the doors opened before either of them touched the controls.

  Alisa glimpsed a black robe, but then Leonidas charged in, throwing his grenade, and there wasn’t time for anything else.

  Chapter 26

  The boom rattled the bridge, and smoke from Leonidas’s grenade flooded the area before Alisa had a good look at how many opponents they faced. The golden glow of the orb atop the Staff of Lore gleamed, visible through the haze. She almost shouted that Tymoteusz was on that side of the bridge, but Leonidas was already springing in that direction, a fluidwrap ready to throw. Two chasadski turned toward him, raising their arms. Alisa sensed an attack directed at him, even if only the faintest brush of wind battered her armor. They weren’t after her.
They might not have even realized she was there.

  She wanted to leap into the fray, firing at Tymoteusz, hoping to get through the shield he no doubt had around himself, but Leonidas had only asked her to do one thing, and she had to do it. It would take a few minutes to travel to the rift, and she could change course later if there was time. And if there wasn’t… then the outcome of this fight on the bridge wouldn’t matter.

  Thuds and crashes sounded, but in the smoke, she couldn’t tell if Leonidas was hurling chasadski about or if chasadski were hurling him about. Since nobody was attacking her yet—not with the big, armored cyborg flinging weapons and filling the bridge with smoke—she eased along the control stations, away from the fighting. She eyed the terminals lining the wall, trying to pick out the navigation controls in the dim, hazy lighting.

  She sucked in a startled breath when her boot snagged on something. A fallen chasadski, his eyes open, but his arms and legs twitching, his torso jerking in spasms. So, the aerosol had made it up here. Some people had just been quick enough to react to get their defenses up. What had Tiang said about that? That his compound would cling to the particles of their shields and that they would be exposed whenever their barriers went down? She hoped so.

  As she inched farther around the bridge, she got closer and closer to the glowing orb. It hadn’t moved. Maybe Tymoteusz was locked in some mental battle across space with Stanislav and couldn’t pay attention to what was happening around him.

  Something flashed above her, and she lifted a hand, almost expecting someone with a weapon leaping down from above. But she found herself staring at the ceiling of the bridge, a clear dome ceiling, a window right out into space. Weapons fire streaked past, just missing the mining ship. Was that an actual porthole and not just a view screen? Something that could possibly be broken? With all the breaches across the ship, she already knew the shields were long down. What if all it took was a direct hit to the bridge to open a breach here? Would one of Leonidas’s grenades work if she could set it up there somehow? Did he have any more?