No doubt some version of my actions is being transferred to the Throgen accountants. “I have commanded. Your programming doesn’t understand the necessity.”
The blackness of space fills the elliptical window. “Launch fighters.”
“No threat detected.”
“It’s out there.” Tired of dealing with the computer logic, he sinks into the only chair on the bridge. Taking a cable from the left armrest, the Overlord plugs into the cyber jack. The cruiser’s power surges through him.
He commands, and the thought moves through the augmentation into the Crimson Nova computer. Below the ship’s control stations, running all around the bridge like decorative baseboards, are jelled boxes holding humanoid brains. Surges of blue-green bioelectrical energy dance among the encased brains as the organic computer responds to the command.
No more verbal objections. Now his mind receives direct camera transmissions from outside the cruiser.
The tailless dragon-shaped craft appears.
The life signs disappear from the cargo pod.
Fighters, pursue.
He allows the targeting system to fire warning blasts. Cloaking shields and advanced transporter technology are on the unknown ship.
Capture, he orders.
The computer brains take the order literally. Thinking pilots would attempt to wound the ship to prevent its escape. Instead, they launch more fighters and give chase. Warning shots fire only after he thought about them.
The ship slips into hyperspace.
Nav-Drone #2 cranes its head. “Planets along the ship’s trajectory ready for display.”
Hearing the information shocks the Overlord as his cyber jack jerks from his head port.
Hovering before him, a sable-robed creature with an ivory mask twists the cyber jack between its bone phalanges. “Augmentation reduces you to little more than a snack.”
“How dare—”
“Threats are useless,” warns the Sandman.
“I’ve heard legends of masked creatures.”
The drones take no notice of the floating robes.
“I am Archimago. I offer you—information.”
The Overlord backs away from the Sandman. He sends a mental command into the computer. “Why would you offer me information?”
“We feed the way the Throgen wipe away the gray matter and convert delicious brains into mere storage units.”
“Highly efficient computer storage,” the Overlord defends.
“I offer you the location of the Silver Dragon,” Archimago says.
“Why?”
Archimago fades from reality. “Destroy her, Overlord, and we shan’t feast on your mind.”
THE BATTLE SUIT absorbed the impact, but Reynard’s body knows he dropped thirty feet.
Amye bursts past Chelsie as she strips off her suit. She drops to her knees before him.
“Help get me out of this thing,” he says, his fingers fumbling with the release clamp.
JC appears in his field of vision. “I suggest we keep the alcohol away from her. Give her mind a chance to heal.”
He nods at her. “Sure thing.”
Amye pushes herself off him. I hate when you speak about me as if I’m not here. “But if you want I won’t protest the prohibition.”
Chelsie loads her spacesuit into the storage locker. “How do you operate with such flagrant disregard for policies and procedures of the UCP command structure?”
“I make up my own rules.”
“Command decisions such as those will get us all killed.” Chelsie forgoes the disappointment she experiences from her fighter being destroyed and goes straight to failing to understand how sharing time with these pirates will help advance her career.
“I never worry about what might kill me.” Amye assists Reynard to his feet. “Report back to your station, Cadet,” he says.
Amye unsnaps the clasps on Reynard’s suit, pulling off the top section of armor.
Once Chelsie exits the bay, he observes, “She’s not going to be one of us.”
“Hardarens are avid rule followers,” Amye says.
Reynard rolls his shoulder, working out the pain. “We’ll plant her back on UCP space first chance we get.”
“You have other problems,” JC says.
“We’ll get Samantha back.” Reynard slips out of the leg unit.
“I was referring to the nearly naked girl on the bridge,” JC says.
“Leeka. She was a gift from the Overlord. Now she thinks she belongs to me.”
“Why would he present you with a gift?”
“She said he wanted to witness an experiment. My guess, I was near death from drowning, and they used some life-giving medical procedure on me.”
“Then why assign her to you?” Amye asks.
“I think she was meant as a distraction,” JC says.
“She’s anything but my property,” Reynard says.
“Why not leave her?” Amye places the battle suit piece on the floor. “What happened to your back?”
“Another near-death experience,” Reynard says.
The mosaic tattoo earned when he brought honor to Joe’s clan is now a gash of scarred flesh. Ripples through the image from the top of his left shoulder and other grooved scratches have damaged the image like the graininess of a black-and-white film strip.
“Even if we clean this up with the bacterium, most of these will scar, ruining the image.”
“It’s worse. The Overlord stole my clan strap. I have brought dishonor to my clan brothers.”
“Once Joe recovers enough to leave the healing chamber, you’ll have to undergo the cleaning ritual.”
“Reynard,” JC snaps, “The girl?”
“Give her quarters and get her some clothes.”
“She won’t leave the couch. Not without your instruction. You ordered her there.”
“I did not.”
“In her mind you did.”
••••••
REYNARD KNEELS AT Leeka’s feet. His ginger touch on her bare knee causes her to raise her purple eyes to his. “I know you’re scared. No one here will hurt you.” Scott won’t hurt you, but— “Come with me.” he unbuckles the seat belt.
“Yes, Master.”
“Let me assist with her, Commander. I know what it’s like to be an outsider on this ship,” Michelle volunteers.
“After a medical examination.” Reynard nods. “Scott, how long until we reach Guil III?”
“Twenty-four hours. The hyper drive engine has damage. I recommend we make the next jump to dry dock. Any more will permanently damage the engine.”
“We go back and retrieve the real Samantha, and we sit in dry dock until we restore my ship.”
Tenderly, he squeezes Leeka’s hand, tugging just enough to get her to rise.
“Scott, we need more of the blue opals converted into bullets.”
“Bet you wished you’d jumped him before Summersun. Can’t see you moaning out ‘Master.’” Doug wishes he hadn’t taunted Amye as she breaks
