“Not easily, and if you’ll forgive my self-absorption, that’s not where my interests lie right now.”
“It could be studied on the side. It need not interfere with your mission.”
His mission. What mission?
Alisa leaned closer to the speaker, feeling like a dirty eavesdropper, but she couldn’t help herself. She was curious, both about the orb and about Leonidas and what he wanted from the galaxy.
“Mastering bioengineering isn’t a hobby, my friend,” Alejandro said. “You need someone like Dr. Bartosz, someone who has advanced degrees in medicine and also in engineering. And who has experience working with cyborgs.”
“Dr. Bartosz is dead,” Leonidas said bluntly.
Bartosz, that was the man whose remains had been on the floor in that lab, wasn’t it? Leonidas had mentioned him before.
“He’s the only one I knew of who had those qualifications,” Leonidas added.
“I’m afraid I can’t help you in this manner. Even if the tenets of the sun gods didn’t proclaim it an abomination to manipulate men so, it’s not as if you’re dying. I would try if that were the case, but this is…”
“Important to me,” Leonidas said.
Alisa could hear the quiet plea in his usually stolid voice, and she winced, feeling guilty once again about eavesdropping. As curious as she was, this wasn’t meant for her to hear. She moved her hand toward the switch to turn off the intercom, but froze at Alejandro’s next words.
“It’s not paramount to the revival of the empire,” he said.
Alisa’s breath caught. She had been right. That orb had to do with something huge. Something so huge it could reunite the empire and give them the boost they needed to fight the Alliance again? The emperor’s fall had been the death knell for the empire, but there were rumors that the ten-year-old prince might not have been in the palace when it was destroyed. Alisa did not know if there was any truth to them, but there was always the possibility that loyalists would rally around the boy if he were found.
“Help me,” Leonidas said, “and I’ll help you with your quest.”
“You won’t help me anyway?” Alejandro asked. “To return the empire to power?”
“We’ll see. Maybe I’ll follow Malik’s example and go build a pirate fleet of my own.”
“I highly doubt that.”
“You don’t know me, Doctor. Do not presume.”
“Very well, but—”
A knock sounded on the NavCom hatch. Alisa flicked off the switch, spinning to face her visitor. Beck stood outside and held up a platter of food to the circular window in the hatch.
Alisa almost waved him away so she could continue eavesdropping in private, but her stomach whined at the sight of that food. She couldn’t remember the last time she had eaten. Besides, that conversation had sounded like it was winding up. She was glad Leonidas had not outright agreed to help the doctor. Whatever Alejandro was up to, it couldn’t be good for the Alliance. As a former soldier and a current citizen, she ought to report everything she knew about him and his orb to the government. But that would take a trip to Arkadius, and she wasn’t going to plan any more stops until she had Jelena. Maybe later, she could try to find cargo that needed to head in that direction.
Alisa opened the hatch to let Beck in. “They let you leave the grill?”
“Just for a delivery.” He strolled in and set the platter on the console. There was food enough for three or four, and she thought he might want to join her, but he lifted a hand in parting. “Got the next round of steaks on. Just wanted to make sure you ate. When I sent you to round up the others, I meant for you to come back afterward.”
“Thank you, Beck.”
Leonidas appeared in the corridor behind Beck, and he jumped. “Damn it, mech. How can someone so big be so stealthy?”
Leonidas’s eyes narrowed. Alisa remembered the way Alejandro had implied the gods thought cyborgs were an abomination and wished Beck would stop calling Leonidas a mech. Not that she had been any better a few days ago. But since then, they had been through a lot together.
“Cybernetically enhanced sensors on the soles of my feet,” Leonidas said.
“Really?”
“No.”
“Oh.”
“You want something to eat, Leonidas?” Alisa asked, waving at the platter.
“Hm.”
“It’s not poisoned, I swear,” Beck said. “Since I had the captain in mind when I made that plate. And since poisons are expensive.”
“I would detect them anyway,” Leonidas said. “I do have enhanced taste buds.”
“To detect poisons?”
“Yes.”
“Huh. Bet you’d win a spice contest.”
“A what?” Leonidas looked at Alisa.
She shrugged at him. It sounded like something Yumi might do to her crops or batches or whatever they were called.
“A blind spice tasting,” Beck explained. “You have to identify everything by taste alone, and they always have some exotic stuff.”
Leonidas regarded him like something sticky one might find on the bottom of one’s shoe.
“I’ll get back to my grill,” Beck said, waving to Alisa and easing past Leonidas while being careful not to touch him.
Alisa wondered what Beck would think if she made that job offer to Leonidas and he accepted it. She had originally only been thinking of her own needs in considering it, but if Leonidas was working for her, he wouldn’t go off with Alejandro to help with a quest that might not be good for the Alliance. But would Leonidas be interested in the gig? And how would she pay all of these people if she managed to hire them?
“You’re wearing a pensive expression,” Leonidas observed, as he reached over to pick up a piece of meat from the platter and gave it a sniff.
“I was contemplating deep thoughts,” Alisa said, picking up a piece of meat.
“Not inappropriate humor? Odd.”
“Well, we’re relaxing over food. Humor wouldn’t be inappropriate now, would it?” While she debated on how to raise the subject of employment, or perhaps on how to gauge his interest first, she pointed to the food in his hand. “Are you going to try some? It’s not a raw liver, but it’s tasty.”
He took an experimental bite.
“I haven’t had a chance to say it yet,” Alisa said, “but I appreciate that you hauled Malik off me and that you were willing to fight him so that we could escape.”
“There was never a question.”
“That you would choose to save an Alliance pilot and a bunch of scruffy miners over someone you used to command?”
His eyebrows rose, and she remembered that he had never spoken of his command.
“While Alejandro and I were dodging the fire of irate pirates and overzealous attack robots, I saw some pictures on display in Malik’s quarters,” Alisa said. “You were all drinking beer in some bar.”
“Ah.”
“You know,” she said, watching as he took another bite, “the stories all say that cyborgs don’t need food or drink. Or alcohol.” There hadn’t been any mentions of colleagues sharing a beer either. Belatedly, it occurred to her that the words might offend him—he wasn’t as obviously proud of being super human as Malik had been.
“Yes, we’re supposed to get by on engine oil,” he said, giving her a dry look. “We’re human, Marchenko. Until I was twenty, I was just like you. I played sports, ran around the neighborhood with friends, studied engineering at the university. We’re human. Fewer weaknesses perhaps, but all of the failings.”
“I’m beginning to see that.”
“That I have failings?”
“That you’re human.”
She expected him to snort, but all he said was a soft, “Good.”
“So… engineering at the university, huh? I guess that explains one of Mica’s mysteries.”
He lifted his eyebrows.
“We were wondering who had been fixing the ship before we got on board,” Alisa s
aid. “I expected that we would have to do a lot more repairs before we could get the Nomad in the air.”
“It was the most promising vessel in the junkyard.”
“Were you also going to pilot it if I hadn’t shown up?”
“It crossed my mind. I’ve flown helicopters and air hammers.”
“But not spaceships?”
“No, but I was optimistic about my capabilities. And the effectiveness of the autopilot.”
“The autopilot doesn’t know how to handle pirates,” Alisa said. “And it would have beeped incessantly at you if you tried to order it into an asteroid field.”
“You’re saying I should consider myself lucky that you came along?”
“Oh, that’s a given.” She grinned at him.
He didn’t exactly grin back, but the corners of his mouth did twitch slightly.
“Leonidas… do you want a job?”
“A what?”
Perhaps that hadn’t been the best segue. “It’s like what you were already doing this week, except with payment. You beat up pirates, smugglers, mafia, gangsters, and anyone else who gives my ship the squinty eye, and I’ll pay you for it.”
He looked into her eyes as if trying to decide if she had been inhaling something from Yumi’s trunk. “Will you be paying me with stolen cyborg implants?”
“No, those got left behind unfortunately. I would pay you a legitimate split from carrying cargo and passengers.”
Leonidas clasped his hands behind his back and gazed at the starry blackness displayed on the view screen.
“Even though you’re the sole reason my ship and my people were attacked again and again this week,” Alisa said, “I’ve come to realize that you’re more appealing as an ally than as an enemy.”
“Not the sole reason,” he said. “I had nothing to do with the White Dragon ship.”
“That’s true. You’re only mostly the sole reason.” She spread her palm upward. “Are you interested? I could perhaps be talked into taking you wherever you’re heading next for your quest.” Alejandro hadn’t been willing to help him, but she would. Maybe that would make a difference to him.
“I’m heading to Perun next.”
“That’s perfect, since I’m heading to Perun next.”
He snorted.
“And after you finish your mission there?” she asked. “You’re too young to retire, and clearly if you fly around with us, you’ll get lots of opportunities to flex your muscles and shoot things. On account of my mouth.”
“Of that I have no doubt.”
Alisa raised her eyebrows and smiled. She wouldn’t push further, but hoped he would consider it even as she decided it was crazy that she wanted a former commander of the Cyborg Corps to join her crew.
“Do I get to outrank Beck?” Leonidas asked.
Her smile turned into a grin. “Probably. He may get laterally transferred to the position of chef. This bear is amazingly un-disgusting.”
“An accolade like that on the side of his sauce bottles will make him a millionaire.”
“Alas, I doubt he’ll put me in charge of his marketing.”
“I’ll think about it,” Leonidas said.
“Marketing slogans or the job?”
“The job.”
That was more than Alisa had expected.
“Good,” she said.
THE END
HONOR’S FLIGHT
Fallen Empire: Book 2
by Lindsay Buroker
Copyright © 2016 Lindsay Buroker
Chapter 1
Alisa Marchenko, captain of the Star Nomad, the only Nebula Rambler 880 in the galaxy that hadn’t been scrapped decades earlier, fiddled with the flight stick as the planet Perun grew larger on the view screen. Nothing had happened yet to justify the queasy feeling in her stomach, but anticipation was making her hands sweat.
This had been home once, the planet where she had gone to school and met her husband, but that had been before she had chosen to join the Alliance army, serving as a fighter pilot to help take down the empire. Perun was all the empire had left of the dozens of planets and moons it had once controlled. Odds were they wouldn’t be happy with her, knowing she had flown for the Alliance. But Alisa had no choice but to land on the planet. Somewhere down there, amid the vast oceans and the populous cities that sprawled across several continents, her daughter waited for her.
A clang sounded behind her, and a tall figure stooped and came through the hatch and into NavCom. Tommy Beck, her security officer, wore his white combat armor, the full body suit and magnetic boots, everything save for the helmet.
“Are you planning to take a walk?” Alisa asked, waving outward to indicate the exterior of the ship.
Beck turned, his nose to the window as he slid the hatch shut, and he didn’t notice her gesture. “Mind if I make some privacy for us, Captain?”
“I don’t know. You’re not really my type, Beck.”
From the way he turned his head and wrinkled his brow, he either didn’t get the joke or hadn’t ever considered her in a sexual manner. She decided not to find the notion of the latter depressing, especially since dating was the last thing on her mind. It had only been five months since she had woken from weeks in a medical regeneration tank to learn that her husband had been killed during an attack on Perun. They had been married for nearly ten years, and she hadn’t expected to ever have to think of dating again.
“Oh?” Beck said. “What’s your type?”
“My husband was a slender scholar rather than a big muscly man. He was smart, quick-witted, and always made me laugh. His jokes never had an edge. They were never designed to make a person hurt.” Her voice lowered, and her gaze shifted toward the dark side of the planet that they were approaching, the clumps of city lights growing visible. “Not like mine. He was a better person than I am.”
“Was? He’s gone?”
Alisa winced, reminded that she hadn’t shared the details of her past with anyone except Mica, neither mentioning Jonah’s death nor that her daughter was the reason she had come to Perun.
“Yes,” she murmured, her response barely audible.
“Sorry about that,” Beck said, “but I’m closing the door so that Lord Colonel Enhanced Ears doesn’t hear us.”
Alisa pushed away her memories. “Oh? Are we going to have a secret conversation about Leonidas?”
“Leonidas.” Beck grunted. “Right.”
He came forward and perched on the edge of the co-pilot’s seat, clunking the broad shoulders of his armor on equipment as he did so. He nearly clunked Alisa with one of his knees too. Combat armor was spaceworthy and meant to withstand a lot of damage in battle; it wasn’t meant for helping a man into tight spaces.
“Why are you wearing that now?” Alisa asked, ignoring the comment about Leonidas.
As she had found out about a week ago, his real name was Colonel Hieronymus Adler, but she preferred to think of him by his call sign. A call sign wasn’t a constant reminder that he had been the commander for the imperial Cyborg Corps. The enemy. A very feared enemy. Leonidas had saved her life back in the Trajean Asteroid Belt, and even if she sometimes still felt uneasy around him, she had offered him a permanent place on her crew as another security officer. Of course, he hadn’t accepted that job offer yet, and she did not know if he ever would.
“I’m not stepping foot on Perun without proper protection,” Beck said. “We’ll be lucky if they don’t shoot us as soon as we walk off the ship.”
“I wasn’t planning to announce that we were Alliance soldiers during the war.”
“The imperials will find out.”
Alisa had that fear, as well, but she hoped they might slip down there under the guise of merely being a freighter crew. Was that naive? She, Beck, and her engineer Mica Coppervein had all fought for the Alliance. If the imperials found out, would they arrest them? The Star Nomad had been sitting in a junkyard during the war, so it wouldn’t rouse suspicions, but what if the imperials
demanded IDs? Should she have looked into buying altered ones?
“We’ll do our best not to tell them,” Alisa said. “It’s not like they have the resources of an entire system at their disposal anymore. They probably don’t even have sys-net access anymore.”
A couple of satellites showed up on the sensors, but who knew if they were connected to the system-wide grid? Alisa certainly would have removed the imperials’ access if she had been in charge after the war.
“I wouldn’t count on it,” Beck said glumly, rubbing the breastplate of his armor. “But I want to tell you what I’ve learned about Leonidas.” He put that emphasis on the pseudonym again as he laid a netdisc on the control console in front of him. “I looked him up.”
“Is he your type?” Alisa asked.
It was a bad joke, and she wasn’t surprised when Beck gave her an incredulous look.
“Never mind,” she said.
“No, and I hope he’s not yours either.”
“He has even more muscles than you do.”
“Thanks for the reminder.” Beck grimaced.
He tapped the disc, and a holodisplay appeared above it with Leonidas’s head and shoulders floating in the center. He looked a couple of years younger than the forty or so that Alisa guessed him to be now. He wore a black imperial army officer’s uniform, and his hair was very short, very military. In the picture, his blue eyes were intense with determination, harder than they were in person. Or perhaps it was his attitude that had changed in the intervening years. He was still intense, still determined, but she had caught a wistful, almost morose expression on him from time to time.
“Colonel Hieronymus Adler,” Beck said, swiping a finger along the bottom of the image so that the name popped up, along with a paragraph of text underneath it. “Former commander of the 22nd Infantry Battalion. Cyborg Corps.”
Alisa nodded. “I know this. I was there when Doctor Dominguez told us, remember?”
“Yes, but he didn’t mention this.” Beck enlarged the small text under Leonidas’s picture. “Wanted alive, two hundred thousand Alliance tindarks. This alert was issued by our government.”