Jordan (38 page)

Jordan flew back out and once again dragonshaped.
There’s got to be a way inside.

Too bad she couldn’t breathe fire on it until it caved. But she required an atmosphere to create fire.

Jordan, what if we sling the Tribe’s shuttle at the mother ship like a cannonball?

He caught on quickly.
If they think the shuttle’s damage is limited to communications, they might open the bay doors in an attempt to recover their
own people.

Together, they veered away from the mother ship in search of the damaged shuttle.

Shari-ki
love. I see the shuttle.

They landed on the shuttle and swung it in a giant circle, using its speed to sling it back at the warship.
If we can’t slow the shuttle down,
Jordan suggested,
we could lob it at the warship like a bomb.

She grinned, liking the idea of using the shuttle the Tribes had sent at the
Draco
against the mother ship. But even more, she liked the give and take of working with Jordan. Being with Jordan was like being
with an extension of herself. Only better, because they stimulated each other, bounced ideas off each other, encouraged each
other, supported each other.

The warship loomed large in the heavens as it bore down on the
Draco.
No, she had that wrong.
The clutch beam is still pulling the
Draco
toward the mother ship. Why aren’t they just firing on the
Draco?
The Grail’s gone, and they can’t recover it.

They don’t know that.

But they had to have spotted us flying out here in dragon form.

True, but maybe they think we’re a new kind of weapon, or a new kind of spaceship.

They had to have seen the glow after you united the Grail with the Staff. The entire solar system turned coppery.

Jordan’s silence told her he didn’t understand the Tribe tactics, either. But then as they neared the huge warship he suggested,
Their hauling in the
Draco
might be a trap.

For us?

Trendonis has to be beyond pissed right now.

That had to be the understatement of the millennium. By uniting the Grail and the Staff, they’d destroyed Trendonis’s two-thousand-year-old
plan to dominate the galaxy.

Ready to let this shuttle fly home?
Jordan asked.

On your mark.

Now.

She retracted her claws and prayed the Tribes wouldn’t realize the shuttle was out of control until too late. That they’d
think they could still recover the vessel. A shiver of apprehension grazed her scales as for a moment she feared the shuttle
would swing wide of target.

But as usual, Jordan’s calculations were right on. The shuttle collided with the great warship, taking out a huge chunk of
metal.

Watch out.

Debris scattered, some of it coming their way. Jordan shifted to avoid part of the hull. She ducked and let a piece of pipe
soar by.

When she swung around to look again, she could see the clutch beam still steady, still drawing the
Draco
into the mother ship’s underbelly. But they’d done enough damage for Jordan and Vivianne to fly into the ship through the
gaping charred hole in the side.

Let’s go.

They landed amid a pile of wreckage, twisted metal parts and debris so burned she couldn’t identify their original use. But
they still didn’t have access to the interior. The warship had closed internal emergency hatches to contain the damage.

Jordan clawed at a hose spraying gas into the vacuum.
Bingo.

What?
She’d felt his elation come through but didn’t understand his excitement.

This is oxygen.
He ducked his head into the gas and roared out a flame. The heat did no damage to the hatch. But the oxygen caught fire and
shot back up the tube of gas.

Get back.

They huddled behind a giant pile of smoking metal. Explosions rocked the warship, and the deck rippled under her feet. She
waited a few seconds for the dust to clear, then peered outside. The clutch beam was gone.
The Draco’s free.

Go back to our ship,
shari-ki,
my love. I have unfinished business here. I need to make sure Trendonis never destroys another planet.

We don’t even know if he’s here.

He’s here.

You’re scanning his mind?

I can feel him blocking me. And that shield has a signature I’d now recognize anywhere.

Keep your lifestyle positive, because your lifestyle becomes your destiny.

—L
ADY
C
AEL

W
e have unfinished business here.
Vivianne’s thought came to Jordan, determined and strong. They were a team, and she was the best of partners. Although he
would have preferred for her to remain at a safe distance, as long as Trendonis lived, nowhere was safe.

After they humanshaped, their nanotech clothing repaired itself, and Jordan led Vivianne toward the bridge. The Tribes’ crew
in this area had disintegrated. But after going through two internal airlocks, they reached an area that had maintained pressure,
heat, and gravity. Here, Vivianne avoided looking at the burned bodies and Jordan sensed her eagerness to leave, but he wouldn’t
go on without making certain Trendonis was no more.

With the warship’s shuttle bay destroyed, Jordan had Trendonis trapped, yet he took nothing for granted. Until Trendonis was
dead, danger could come from any direction.

Vivianne might be squeamish, but that didn’t stop her from picking up two blasters from the dead. One she tucked into her
pants, the other she kept in hand. Jordan kept his eyes peeled for weapons, and when he spied a space ax, he seized it as
well as another blaster.

Looks like the officers have barricaded themselves on the bridge. It’s likely the last remaining pressurized spot on the warship.

Unless the Tribes wore spacesuits, all Jordan and Vivianne had to do was break through a bulkhead. Pressure and the cold of
space would do their fighting for them.

Jordan searched the perimeter of the bridge.
Look for a weakness.

The Tribe warship was built with thick metal plating. Yet parts of the metal I-beams were twisted, charred, and melted. Jordan
tested several joints with his space ax.
No good.

Over Vivianne’s handheld, static squawked. Then Gray’s mental thought.
The warship’s firing at us. I’m pulling back.

Status?
Vivianne asked.

We’re hit.
A loud boom and the communication ended.

Gray?

He didn’t answer, and Vivianne’s face paled.
We need to help them.

Jordan found an electric box. After opening it, he picked up a fire extinguisher and rammed it into the circuits. Sparks flew
everywhere.

And a hatch that had prevented them from entering the mother ship’s bridge opened. Blasters drawn, Jordan and Vivianne rushed
into the opening and skidded onto the bridge.

As blaster fire rushed by his ear, Jordan grabbed Vivianne’s waist and rolled.
Take cover.

They ended up half hidden behind a counter with several dead bodies. Jordan kicked the bodies out and tugged Vivianne to safety.
He peeked out and counted four opponents.
Two men at weapons. One in a spacesuit at the com. And one creeping toward us.

He blasted the man stationed at weapons. With a cry of pain, the man spun and then fell to the deck. Jordan missed the man
on the attack, but Vivianne took him out.

Betting Trendonis was the one wearing the spacesuit and who was busily typing commands over the command center, Jordan edged
toward him.

“Trendonis. You’re done,” Jordan taunted his enemy, hoping to distract him. He had a bad feeling. A real bad feeling. Why
wasn’t Trendonis trying to flee or fighting? Why was he holding his ground? And what was he so busy doing?

Jordan had no idea why his mind scanning wasn’t working. His major advantage was gone. But he kept creeping forward.
Vi. Stay covered. Let the enemy come to you.

And why aren’t you taking your own advice?

Trendonis is up to something.

Jordan crawled behind an overturned module. He still didn’t have a shot. He had to get closer. Staying low, he used elbows
and knees to belly crawl. And all the while, he heard the beeping of the touch screen as Trendonis laid in orders.

Was he calling in reinforcements? Were they about to be surrounded by the Tribe fleet?

Centuries of rage surged in Jordan. Trendonis was pure evil and the son of a bitch needed to die. His time had come.

Rising to his feet in a sudden heave, Jordan fired his blaster. Trendonis fired back. Jordan dived, and the blaster fire missed
Jordan by inches. But even as he’d lunged behind another console, he’d seen his blast nick Trendonis’s shoulder. Jordan aimed
and fired again.

Across the bridge, Jordan heard more blaster fire.
Vivianne?

I got him.

Stay there.

No problem.
Her mental communication sounded weak, shaken.

You okay?

I’ll live, and if Trendonis shows, I’ve a blaster waiting for him.

He’s cornered and injured, which only makes him more dangerous. You’ll need eyes in the back of your head. Look up, down.
All directions. A snake can come from anywhere.

A blaster fired.

He’s advancing on my position.

Jordan’s pulse raced. His mouth went dry. Trendonis had killed everyone Jordan had ever loved. He would not hurt Vivianne.

He lunged from behind cover, rolled, and ended up behind an exposed I-beam. Shari-ki,
love. I’m coming.

I have him in my blaster sights.

More shots fired.

Vi?

She didn’t answer.

Life would indeed be dull if there were no such difficulties.

—L
UCAN
R
OARKE

V
ivianne?

When she still didn’t answer, Jordan tensed, his flesh crawling with sudden sweat.

Vi?

She must be hurt. Or worse. Jordan sprinted across the bridge, leaping over furniture, skidding on debris, knocking electrical
wires dropping from the ceiling out of his way.

Blaster fire singed his hair. Jordan kept running, scrambling, dodging.
Vivianne. Talk to me. Please, love. Say something. Anything.

Bracing for the sight of her broken and bleeding body, he rounded the console where he’d left her. She was lying on her side,
eyes closed. He couldn’t tell if she was still alive. And then, from behind a column, Trendonis kicked the blaster from Jordan’s
hand.

Filled with fury, Jordan seized Trendonis’s neck with both hands and squeezed. But with a sharp twist to one side, Trendonis
broke his grip and clapped his hands over Jordan’s ears.

Pain in his eardrums drove Jordan into a white rage. With an uppercut, he slammed his knuckles into Trendonis’s cheekbone.
The crunch of bone forced Trendonis to stagger back, but he was far from defeated. The wily fighter grabbed a loose crossbrace
and raised it, ready to swing at Jordan’s head.

Before Trendonis could deliver the deathblow, Jordan hurled his space ax. And with a thunk, it lodged dead center in Trendonis’s
chest.

The impact lifted Trendonis off his feet. His arms flailed, and he dropped the crossbrace. Knees giving out, he sank to the
floor. But even as his eyes clouded with his coming death, they gleamed with triumph. “Earth… is… no more.”

“Oh, God.” Vivianne sat up, raised a hand to the wound on her head, and staggered to her feet. Blood matted her hair and streamed
down over her face.

But she was alive.

“Thank the Goddess.” Hearts welling with relief that she’d survived, Jordan gathered her into his arms, holding her, touching
her to assure himself she was really there. “When you didn’t answer…”