Toog was too far away. The man was doomed unless he cleared a path. I saw the head of one of the dervishes squashed by a giant rock. Brown shapes pounced on it like bobcats and pulled off its legs and ripped it apart with their bare hands, metal weapons in their clawed fingers. Like the ghouls they were, they stuck the fleshy pieces in burlap sacks and carried them away.
I reached Starrunner and thrust open the port hatch. Pushing Wren through, I yanked TK in last who had shoved Billy in before him and jammed the door shut just as a mass of flesh thudded against the plated metal. One of the scumbitches rolled in with us and Wren stomped its neck and face. I shook the blood out of my hair, scrambled to the bridge. I got the thrusters warmed up, praying to god that those deep space engines would fire—at least, the impulse drive.
Wren raced to the weapons console and aimed the starboard cannon still operating under auxiliary power.
The clunks of weapons into the metal hull and thuds against the port glass caused me to wince.
“Bloody hell! They’re going to break the glass!”
I reached for the thruster impulse to give it max juice, but TK reached to pull my hand away. “It’s too early to task the ship. The Barenium hasn’t settled yet. Sudden acceleration will—”
“Fuck it! We either get out of here, or those mummy fiends of yours bust through the glass and we’re dead.” I forced the lever up.
Wren cried, “He’s right! Hundreds of them out there. They won’t stop at a few blaster shots.”
Billy stared wild-eyed, holding his head, whimpering like a child. Menacing shapes clustered at the windows.
TK ground his teeth with a fatalistic groan.
I gunned the engines. The impulse drive made an unwholesome growl, but fired up. Starrunner’s curved prow broke through the top of the low ceiling, raining crumbling earth down and scattering tools and benches while hordes of mad boys clung to the fuselage like bloodsuckers.
“Woohee! That’s what I want to hear, baby.” I cranked the thrusters.
I wasn’t worried about finesse now. Those leachy-ghouls wouldn’t last long once Starrunner got going. If she got going.
I cleared the pit and circled back, watching the crawlers fall to their doom. I reamed a generous spray of pulse blasts on those stinking vermin, grinding my teeth in vindication, hoping to give Toog a fighting chance, if he were still alive. Saw no sign of him. Only those hooded creepos parceling up their own dead for the evening stew. I lifted off into the bright sky, a grumble of exultation in my throat. I was glad to see the end of Talyon…or at least I hoped it was the end.
Chapter 9
The Barenium held. After clearing Talyon’s gravity we jumped to warp. The nearest shelter was the outpost at Skeller’s Run, a massive space station in the Wizrin sector on the far edge of Orion. Not a first pick for me, the space station, but it would do for now. We needed supplies, particularly water.
TK paced back and forth on the bridge in a huff, face contorted at the risk of the compromised Barenium. “The liquid’s not settled. Besides, they’re still going to trace you.”
“Right. Have to get that fixed.”
He shook his head and threw his hands in the air.
“Okay, Beleron then,” I said, “but first things first. We make it to the outpost. Go and play cribbage with Billy or something. You’re making me nervous with all your pacing. We’ve got time to burn aboard this ship.”
TK didn’t budge. Wren occasioned to bump her hip against me as I was swiveling to check the log coordinates on the nav. I turned to cast her an inquiring glance. Her cheeky smile culminated in a lush rise of black brows. It intrigued but also irked me at the same time. I ordered her to scrub down in the shower. On the next stop, our second priority would be to get her some proper clothes. She didn’t seem to appreciate the hint, and stormed off.
“Molly, get us info on the next destination.”
“Orbital station, class D. Captive of gas giant Orves. Inception 2362. Fueling and supply center for inner, terraformed worlds Megal and Vylnos.”
TK’s mouth dropped. “Molly?”
“It’s as good a name as any,” I growled. “My first girl if you want to know. You’ve got a problem with that?”
“No, but—”
“Good, then check out the landing protocol on the station, if you want to make yourself useful. See who’s on duty, what they’re looking for, and on guard against. Sometimes these stations can be funny about deep space cruisers coming in out of nowhere, with skeleton crews and ones without papers.”
TK grumbled and tapped some holo keys on the data console. It was something Molly could have told me in an instant, but I needed to keep TK busy. At the moment the man was a nuisance. Judging from his hobbies down on his home world, his mind was too fertile to be idle for any length of time.
“A certain Roga Flann is the designated contraband checker,” TK muttered.
“And?”
“They seem to be particularly intolerant of bombs and peddlers hassling clientele in transit.”
“Good. Keep digging, TK. What’s Flann’s official’s game? Credentials, past history. There’s more info lurking about on what they’re looking for. Not that we’re carrying anything illicit, but sometimes these officials try to pull a scam where they plant stuff on an incoming ship like ours then shake the captain down for yols, a bribe not to report us.”
“How’s me digging for stuff going to help if—”
“Just do it,” I grunted.
He clamped his mouth shut and
