“What do you mean ‘someone’s taken over the shuttle’?”
“You can come out, now,” Mack advised, over our internal comms. “Might be time to play the lady, again.”
And he draped his arm back over my shoulders, which is not what either of us wanted. Me, because I wanted to be out in the thick of it, taking out the threat, and him because he wanted to be right there with me. We wanted to wreak some havoc, and neither of us could. We had to sit tight, and be the helpless house guests, without showing a single sign of just how much that bothered us.
“Almost through,” Tens said, and the shuttle gained sudden height, the floor tilting enough to topple Targil and the other soldiers still standing.
I could sense Mack resisting the urge to shout ‘evasive maneuvers’, even as the craft went vertical, rolled sideways, and then dropped. Personally, I didn’t think it was designed to do that, and hoped the damn thing would hold together.
“It’s not, and it will,” and it sounded like Case had her teeth gritted.
I didn’t want to know what the captain, his guard, and his lord were going to think of this little stunt, and hoped they couldn’t trace it back to the ship. Even as I thought it, the shuttle levelled out in what felt like a headlong glide, and then settled back to its previous pace. I could hear Targil and his men picking themselves up off the floor, as the internal comms went live.
“I have control. ETA twenty minutes. Is everyone okay, back there?”
“We’re fine,” Targil growled, and shot a glare at Mack and me.
I gave him my best wide-eyed look in return. It wasn’t hard. For one thing, the man was anything but fine, judging from the way he was moving, and his men were also not as fine as he said. One was cradling his wrist, another had an arm dangling uselessly by his side, and the third groaned softly as he tried to move.
I turned around at the sound, and saw Targil move back to the man’s side.
“Ribs, sir,” the man said.
“Stay there. I’ll send the docs on board to get you.”
“Sir,” and it sounded like a protest as well as acquiescence.
Targil ignored it, straightening up and moving to check the rest of his team. His face had gone from unhappy to sucking-lemons sour by the time he’d finished. He glanced over at where Mack and I were sitting.
“There’ll be a second protection team waiting,” he said. “They’ll take you directly to the costumers. I’ll come and collect you from there, once I’ve briefed his lordship. I apologies for the delay.”
Why he was apologizing, I didn’t know. After all, as far as he could tell, we were still safe, even though his men weren’t. The sourness I understood. No-one liked it when their team got hurt. Mack shrugged.
“I’m sure you can explain the ambush,” he said. “How did they get so close?”
Targil favored him with a long, calculating stare, and replied, his expression saying just how carefully he was choosing his words.
“The raiders were unexpected,” he said, and I heard Case’s denial through our comms.
“Lie.”
At least that explained more of the reluctance of the car service we’d managed to hire—the ‘out of town’ levy, in particular. Targil remained oblivious to her interruption and continued.
“... and some have stolen more advanced equipment than we realized. The lords are supposed to report the loss of cloaking technologies, immediately. His lordship will be looking into it.”
“Partial lie, mostly lie, true.” Case’s commentary ran parallel to the guard captain’s explanation.
Mack broached the most important factor, first.
“I wasn’t aware this world had any cloaking technology,” he said, and let the unspoken question hang.
Targil’s face colored slightly, and then faded back to its normal hue.
“Some lords have been working on it,” he said. “They’re supposed to report their advancements as well as the loss of any developmental tech.”
“All true.” Case sounded surprised.
The shuttle slowed, and Targil glanced towards the barrier separating us from the cockpit. He turned away from Mack, signaling that the time for questions was over. I watched as he rested one hand on the wall. His lips moved, as though he was speaking without making a sound, and I guessed he was either sub-vocalizing, or talking in his head. When he was done, he turned towards us.
“We’re here.”
The two guards that were still on their feet, took their places on either side of the door, and Targil came to stand beside Mack’s seat.
“If you would follow me,” was a clear instruction to unbuckle our harnesses and get our asses moving.
Mack complied, and then reached over to unbuckle me. I didn’t move when he was done, but waited for him to offer me his arm, and guide me to my feet. I was getting thoroughly sick of this ‘dutiful wife’ bullshit. Case sniggered in my head, and Mack favored me with a stern glare.
“Behave,” he murmured, to my surprise, out loud but soft.
Still, not soft enough to avoid being picked up by any mikes. I guess it helped position me for any disobedience I might decide on later.
“Don’t even,” came his instruction over the implant. “I want that level of uncooperativeness to come as a total surprise.
Until he’d added that last bit, I’d been prepared to rebel. After? Well, I could go along with that. I felt Mack relax, just the tiniest fraction, and turned a smirk into an adoring smile as he guided me out the door.
Contrary to Targil’s assurances that his lordship would meet us after I’d had time to change my dress, the good Lord Barangail was standing in the courtyard where the shuttle had come to a stop. The only shuttle.
“Where are the other two?” Mack asked, before I could blow my cover by doing just that.
I closed my mouth with a snap, realizing the stims had taken effect, and the vibration running through my muscles was just something I was going to have to suppress—along with the tendency to
