Reavers (Book 3) (17 page)

Panic setting in, he fumbled with the docking commands.  Stealing a glance behind him, he found Mahoney had recovered and was once again rocketing toward him.  The hiss of the opening drop pod filled Connor with hope.  He slammed his fist on the control panel before diving into the pod.  The pod began to seal as Mahoney inched closer.

The pod finished sealing just as Mahoney crashed against it.  As Connor secured himself in the small black ship, he watched Mahoney struggling with the broken control panel through the small view plate in the hatch.  As the drop pod slowly pulled away from the ship, he noticed a smile on Mahoney’s face.

As the drop pod moved farther away from the ship the view plate revealed more and more of its exterior.  The Weaver turned white as a sheet as he realized what was amusing the trooper.  That idiot had placed charges on the
outside
of the ship!  Connor futilely tried to increase the drop pod’s speed as the seventh wedge disappeared.  Destroying the command console panel had not only prevented Mahoney from reaching him but also locked down the auto launch sequence.

There was no way to change the drop pod’s speed or angle.  The drop pod continued to pull away at an agonizingly slow speed as Connor cursed everything he could think of.  As the final wedge disappeared, the Weaver could taste the supreme sense of triumph coming form the ship.  Mahoney knew he had won.

In a brilliant crimson, the explosives detonated, engulfing the ship.  The wisps of force and heat lashed at Connor’s drop pod sending it tumbling toward the asteroid below.  Alarms blared as it fell out of control into the rock below.  The drop pod smashed into the asteroid with such force that Connor was tossed about like a limp rag doll.

A gentle hissing harassed his ears as the computer warned him he was losing atmosphere.  Lodged in the rock, the Weaver glanced out of the view plate.  The charred, disfigured hulk of what had been Mahoney’s ship was smoldering brightly as it fell into the asteroid.  Like a shooting star, the ship majestically disappeared over the horizon.  Connor slammed his fist against the wall of the drop pod.

“Can’t you do anything simply?” an annoying voice taunted through the small ship’s control panel.

The light of the nearby sun was blotted out as a ship edged closer to the damaged pod.  Connor burst into hysterical laughter.  The bony old man was already set to recover the damaged drop pod.  The trooper had failed after all.  Calmly returning to the bench, Connor leaned back and toggled the communications system.

“One down,” Connor said as he continued his laughter.

Brent surveyed the damage.  The living room was a complete mess.  The furniture was in shambles and had a thin layer of cake remains.  Moving into the room, he found several chairs leaning up against the sofa in some sort of primitive fort.

“Sorry about the mess,” Cain said with a yawn as he entered the room.  “Had to establish a defensive line.”

“No need to apologize.”  Brent lifted a chair and swiped it clean.  “If you hadn’t distracted Rupert, I fear Cassandra might have had to confess in public.”  He shuddered.  “Now
that
would have been unpleasant.”

Cain shot a questioning glance at him as he helped set the room back in order.  He didn’t answer the glance and the two cleaned in silence.  After they got most of the furniture back in place, Cain broke the silence.

“Well?”

“Well what?” Brent asked absentmindedly as he studied a stain on the sofa.

“Don’t play innocent with me, I know better.  There are gears turning in that brain of yours that make me look like a novice.  What was the big secret?”

“Can I trust you to
keep
it a secret?” he asked with a grin.

“I’m hurt, you should know . . . actually, that’s a good question,” Cain said, mirroring the grin.

Cain rubbed his chin and stared at the ceiling, playfully pretended to be deep in thought.  Brent burst into laughter.

“What’s so funny?” he asked in surprise.

“You might want to look at your neck.”

He swiped at his neck and examined his hand.  There was a thin layer of lipstick coating a few of his fingers.

“I take it you two enjoyed your evening?” Brent asked as he took a seat on the cleanest chair.

“Don’t change the subject.”  He rubbed at his neck until he was sure he had gotten it all.  “You know I can’t stand not knowing a secret.”

“What are you two trouble makers up to so early,” Angela asked.

She was leaning up against the wall with a tired look.  Brent suddenly realized she was wearing a different outfit from the night before.

“I’m trying to convince him I’m trustworthy enough for him to share the bad news.”  Cain grinned at Angela as he sat between stains on the sofa.

“Good luck with that,” she said with a small chuckle.  “But it isn’t bad news.

Cain turned to face Brent.

“You told her before me?” he asked with raised eyebrow.

“He didn’t have to.”  Angela took a seat on the sofa and rested a weary head on Cain’s shoulder.  “He’s so happy he’s practically shouting it out loud.”

“How did . . . right, Weaver,” he said with a chuckle.  “So out with it; what’s the good news?”

“You must be pleased,” Brent said to Angela.  “I’ve never seen Cain so . . . slim.”

“Personally, I think I’d rather have the old Cain back,” she said as she joined him in ignoring Cain.

“Really?” he asked in surprise.

“The more weight he loses, the more he complains.”

They chuckled as Cain folded his arms.

“Fine, fine,” he said with a smile.  “Have your fun at my expense.”

“I plan to.”  Angela lifted her head and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“So are you ever going to tell us?” Cain asked him.

He chuckled as he leaned closer to the couple.

“Now, you can’t tell anyone this,” Brent whispered.

They both nodded.

“Cassandra’s pregnant.”

“Preg . . .” Cain started to shout.

Angela quickly moved her hand to cover his mouth.

“That’s wonderful news,” she said as she eyed Cain.

“It is,” he said as he pried off her hand.  “When is the due date?”

“A little over six months,” Brent said leaning back in his chair.

Silence filled the room.

“She kept it from you for . . .” Angela finally said in awe.

“Three months!” Cain yelled.

Brent nodded.

“Impossible!” Cain said as he started to relax from the shock.  “No one could keep
you
in the dark for that long.”

“I’m not as infallible as you might think,” he said with a smile.

“Still!” Angela protested.  “You never miss anything, ever!  How could you not know?”

“It’s not that shocking,” Brent said with a casual shrug.  “You of all people should know we can only sense what people are feeling, not why.”

“For three months?” she asked incredulously.  “There must have been hints, something to give it away.  How could she keep it from you without giving herself away?”

Cain’s eyes widened and he started to laugh.  Angela looked up at him in confusion.  Suddenly, she noticed Brent was smiling, too.

“What did I miss?” she asked Cain.

“She
did
give herself away,” he said as he composed himself.  “Countless times.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Brent’s too kind to admit it, but his wife is a worry wart.  She worries about everything.  How would he be able to tell if she was worrying about her
charming
parents or some secret she was keeping?  She worries so much that her secret was lost in the background noise.”

Angela stared at Cain in surprise.  Slowly turning her head, she stared at Brent.  With a shrug, he pointed to his nose.  He had guessed it all.  She couldn’t help but chuckle.

“This is marvelous news,” Cain said as he wrapped an arm around Angela.  “We are both so excited for you.”

“Now remember,” Brent said sternly, “it is a secret, so no blabbing until Cassandra decides to announce it.  In any case, how long did you plan on vacationing here?” he asked with a smile.

They stared at him openly.

“What?” Angela asked.

“I don’t mind,” he said.  “I doubt Cassandra will either.  You are both welcome to stay as long as you want.”

Angela shot a glance at Cain.

“We don’t want to be a burden,” he said as he scratched at the back of his head.

“Don’t give it a second thought,” Brent said warmly.  “Think of this as a second honeymoon.  I bet you two could use some alone time, away from the stress of Core Industries.”

Angela shifted her gaze between Cain and Brent.  Finally, she threw up her hands in defeat and stood up.

“Fine,” she said as she stretched.  “You two schemers have your fun.  I won’t say no to peace and quiet.”

Brent smiled to himself.  Despite her act of indifference, Angela was overjoyed at the prospect of having her husband all to herself.  Cain smiled idly as he watched his wife walk away.  Brent realized that a fog was enshrouding Cain; he was hiding his emotions.

“You know we didn’t come here for a vacation,” he said after making sure Angela had left.

“I know.  We haven’t seen you two in months, and now you just show up without any warning?  Something brought you here, something unexpected.”

“So why keep up the façade?”

“You are worried; she isn’t.  You haven’t told her the whole story yet.  What’s more, she is content with that.”

“How long have you known?”

“Since you arrived.”

“Why didn’t you ask right away?”

“Because you are not
that
worried.  Whatever has gone wrong, you’ve already taken steps to remedy it.  Don’t worry, I meant what I said.  You two are welcome here as long as you want.”

“Even though . . .”

“Even though you are using me as a shield to protect the two of you,” Brent finished Cain’s sentence.  “Until the storm passes, my home is yours.”

Cain stared at him in awe.  Abruptly, Brent rose and offered him a hand.  He smiled warmly as they returned to cleaning the room.

“Brent,” Cain asked as he straightened a lamp.

“Yes?”

“You
really
didn’t have a clue she was pregnant?”

“None at all.”  Brent chuckled.

A content groan escaped from Rosalyn’s lips as the chair massaged her tense shoulders.  Even the glorious sensations couldn’t keep her mind from wandering back to her troubles.  Their first raid with the new crew had been disastrous.  Three salvos of missiles had been wasted over D rations.  D rations!  Who in their right mind would fight over such worthless cargo?  Not only that, the entire boarding party had almost been tossed into the void of space.

Well, not the
entire
boarding party.  That unique new crewmember had tossed both the girl and the old man out of harm’s way.  In the process, Kevin had dislocated both of his shoulders and ripped several tendons.  Apparently, he had tossed them out of the cargo hold with everything he had, and then some. 

It all amounted to nearly a month out of commission.  Without a full stock of missiles and a ready boarding party, the ship couldn’t risk running into any Navy ships.  That meant they had been reduced to sneaking about in the shadows for far too long.  What
should
have been a short trip to the Freeport was taking forever.

“We’ve got a problem, Rosy,” Andreas said through the lone speaker in her quarters.

Angrily, she hopped out of her chair and stormed through the doorway.  She tried to calm herself down before gently tapping on the communications terminal.  After all, she didn’t want to damage her ship.

“What’s wrong
now
?” she asked in annoyance as Andreas’ image appeared on the terminal.

“We just docked.”

“How exactly is that a problem?”

“It’s not a Freeport anymore,” Andreas said calmly.

Rosalyn’s eyes widened.  Charging down the corridors of the ship, she grumbled to herself as she approached the bridge.  Crewmembers desperately attempted to stay out of her way, a few even diving at the last instant in an overly dramatic way.

“What do you mean it’s not a Freeport?” Rosalyn shouted as she reached the bridge.

“Just what I said,” he said flatly.  “Apparently, they were acquired.”

“By who?”

“A guild calling itself ‘the Great White Rat.’”

“You’re kidding,” Rosalyn said, trying her best not to laugh.

“I wish I was.  According to the dock master, the guild is a new one.  Managed to score a couple raids against military transports.  Made a small fortune selling the weapons.”