Refusing Excalibur (42 page)

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Authors: Zachary Jones

BOOK: Refusing Excalibur
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Lena nodded. “Of course. And you, Cormac.”
“Thank you, Captain Dryer,” Cormac said, crossing the airlock with Victor. His pressure suit squeaked as he moved. “Where do you need my help?”
Lena smiled up at the tall starchild. “Engineering. And probably outside too. Which I see you’re ready for.”
Cormac nodded. “I will head there now and see what I can do, Captain Dryer.”
The starchild turned at the corridor and headed for the stern of the
Mae
.
Lena and Victor watched him go until he disappeared around a corner, then Victor returned his attention to her and said, “So why are you out here?”
Lena looked up at him, crossing her arms. “What do you mean?”
“I thought you left Free Worlds space,” Victor said.
“I did leave,” Lena said.
“Not as far as I thought,” Victor said.
“Far enough. The Lysandrans merchant fleet has yet to recover from their war with Savannah. That means lots of work for independent freighters like mine. And, besides, I don’t have to worry about slaver-pirates in their space like I did in the Free Worlds.”
“Then why are you headed back to the Free Worlds?” Victor asked.
Lena’s brows narrowed, and she placed her hands on her hips. “Where I have to go on a job is not your business.”
“This is the second time I’ve saved your life and the lives of your crew, Lena. I think that entitles me to know what you’re doing out here,” Victor said.
Lena’s jaw tightened, and her eyes narrowed with thought. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate the rescue,” Lena said. “But the job I’m doing requires a bit of discretion.”
“And is probably quite lucrative if it’s bringing you back to the Free Worlds,” Victor said.
“Yes,” Lena said. “I suppose, if you want, I could cut you in on the deal.”
A bribe. Interesting
. “I could be persuaded. What’s the job?”
“Transport,” Lena said. “Rich girl needed to get off Lysander. She didn’t tell me why, so don’t bother asking me. Anyway, I’m sure with the help you provided, she’d be willing to pay you for saving her life.”
“I suppose that could help cover my expenses,” Victor said. He wasn’t really interested in the money; he had more than enough. But he was curious about the kind of passenger who would bring Lena out here at a time like this.
“Good. I’ll take you to the galley, and we can talk with my client there,” Lena said.
***
Lysandra rose from the galley’s main table when Lena came in with the captain of the
Alexander
.
He was a tall man, with a long face covered by a coarse black beard. Well-armed and armored too. He wore what looked like an armored pressure suit, had a pistol holstered at one hip, and a post-Fall variblade sheathed at the other. But what really drew her attention were his eyes. Solid black and smoldering with anger.
Those eyes studied her. It looked like he was deciding if he recognized her.
Providence, I hope not.
“So you’re the reason why Lena’s out here?” he asked.
Lysandra resisted sighing with relief. “Yes, that’s right. I hired Captain Dryer to take me to the Free Worlds.”
“Which one exactly?” he asked.
“Tabor,” she said.
He nodded. “I take it you have a lot of money squirreled away there? A lot of Lysandran nobles do that.”
“What of it?” Lysandra asked.
“Well, in case you’re not aware, there’s a war going on between the Lysandran Empire and the Free Worlds’ Alliance,” he said.
Lysandra feigned surprise. “What?”
Victor arched an eyebrow. “The emperor led three Imperial Battlefleets into the Free Worlds as part of an invasion. You’re telling me that you didn’t hear anything of this?”
“All that I know is that the emperor left Lysander to tour the vassal worlds,” Lysandra lied. “What happened?”
“The fleets were destroyed, and the emperor fled,” he said. “That was over a week ago. I’ve been chasing the emperor ever since.”
“The emperor was aboard that yacht? Oh, Providence!” Lysandra said, reinforcing her feigned surprise with genuine grief. “And the fleets are gone? This…this is a disaster.”
“I know. Couldn’t have happened to nicer people,” he said.
Anger simmered inside Lysandra. “You don’t like Lysandrans, do you?”
“No, not particularly,” the mercenary said. “So what made you decide to leave Lysander?”
Lysandra crossed her arms. “Is this an interrogation?”
“Yes,” he said. “I’m not entirely convinced you’re not a spy.”
“Trust me, Victor. She’s no spy,” Lena said.
Victor turned to the
Mae
’s captain. “And how do you know?”
“Because assassins tried to kill us both when we first met,” Lena said.
Careful, Lena
, Lysandra thought.
“Whose?” Victor asked.
“I don’t know, but it was close,” Lena said.
“It could’ve been a setup,” Victor said.
Lena scoffed and shook her head. “That was no setup. Believe me. Someone on Lysander wants her dead. That strikes me as a good enough reason to want off.”
“Fair enough,” Victor said. “The timing is a bit suspicious.”
Lena shrugged. “We’re just lucky, I guess.”
“
Hrmm
,” Victor said. He didn’t sound convinced. “Well, if Lena trusts you, I suppose I can give you the benefit of a doubt. I would appreciate being paid for my time, however.”
It took a mighty effort on Lysandra’s part not to look too relieved. She pulled out her tablet and opened up information on one of her Taborian accounts then handed it to Victor. “The contents of this account ought to be more than enough.”
Victor raised an eyebrow when he looked at the tablet. “I suppose this will do.” He held out the tablet to Lysandra.
She reached up and took hold of the tablet, but the fingers of his artificial hand didn’t let go. She almost objected but stopped when she saw the mercenary’s angry black eyes locked on her sleeve or, more precisely, what was up it.
His left hand moved lightning fast, grabbing the lip of her sleeve and pulling it back, exposing her wrist sheath and the variblade it contained.
There he froze, staring at the variblade with an unmistakable light of recognition in his eye.
***
Things Victor hadn’t felt in years flooded him at the sight of his family's ancient variblade. It looked exactly the same as the last time he saw it, clutched in the hands of the man who had burned his world.
“Where did you get that?” he growled.
Mira, if that’s really who she was, snatched her hand back, letting her tablet fall to the deck.
Lena got between him and Mira. “Victor, what is wrong with you?”
Victor looked down at Lena. “That variblade she has up her sleeve? There’s only one person she could’ve gotten it from.” He looked over Lena’s shoulder. “Where is he?”
“Who?” Lena asked.
“The emperor. Where is he?” Victor shouted.
“Not on my ship, Victor!” Lena said.
“You’re lying,” he said, shoving her aside and stepping toward Mira, his prosthetic brushing the handle of his pistol. “What are you? Some kind of bodyguard? A servant? Where’s your master?”
His family’s variblade appeared in her hand, and a katana-style blade, just like his father favored, flowed from the handle with the unmistakable speed of a First Civilization model. “Stay away from me!”
Victor grabbed the handle of his pistol, but, before he could draw it, he heard the sound of another gun cocking next to his head.
“Victor, stop!” Lena said.
Victor shot an angry glance at the red-haired woman. “So how much is the emperor paying you?”
“I’m not working for the emperor!” Lena said.
“Then why do you have one of his minions on your ship?”
“It’s not what you think!” she said. “I don’t want to shoot you.”
No, she didn’t, judging by the fact her finger wasn’t on the trigger.
Victor put up his hands and glared at Lena. She walked up and pulled the pistol from Victor’s holster.
While she was distracted, he grabbed Lena’s gun by the barrel with his prosthetic hand and twisted the weapon from her grip. He immediately followed up with a left-handed hook to Lena’s temple, laying her out on the deck.
He turned to Mira just in time to see her swing his family’s variblade at him. Still holding Lena’s gun by the barrel, he barely brought it up to block, using its grip to hook the blade.
The edge bit deep into the metal and plastic of the gun’s grip, yet he kept the blade from taking off his head.
But Mira didn’t wait for Victor’s next move. She pulled the blade back, and the edge cut the rest of the way through the handle of Lena’s gun, causing bullets to spill from its severed magazine.
Victor threw Lena’s ruined gun at Mira, who dodged it, but it gave him enough time to grab his own variblade from his belt and form it into a longsword. Just in time to block Mira’s next attack.
Variblade clanged against variblade, once, twice, three times. It was all Victor could do to keep from getting cut as Mira launched a series of rapid slashes.
The skill and finesse with which she handled the variblade was impressive; something he would expect from one of the emperor’s bodyguards. And the idea that the emperor was aboard the
Mae
, within his reach, spurred him forward.
He launched his own assault, a constant barrage of heavy chopping cuts. Mira parried all the blows, but the violent impacts forced her to backpedal.
Victor kept up the assault, intent on pushing her into a corner, but Mira seemed to realize that. She ducked under a swing and rolled away from him to open some distance.
Victor gasped in surprise when Mira formed her variblade into a spear and thrust its silver tip at him. He spun away from the thrust and felt the tip glance against his armor.
A spear. That’s new
, he thought.
Mira thrust again, and Victor parried. The variblade spear made a hollow ring as Victor’s weapon impacted it.
Victor knocked aside the next thrust and grabbed the shaft with his prosthetic hand. He then yanked the spear to pull Mira close, but the spear shaft went liquid in his fingers and flowed back into the handle of Mira’s variblade.
Victor made a left-handed slash at Mira, but she backpedaled from reach. He followed, intent on staying close so she couldn’t use her spear again.
Instead she formed her variblade back into a katana and brought it up in time to block another attack.
Sweat dripped from her brow, and her breath was heavy. She was tiring. She must have used up most of her energy early, during the initial rush of adrenaline. Skilled then but not experienced.
Victor proceeded to launch a constant barrage of slashing attacks. Mira parried them all, but he wasn’t trying to get past her defenses. He was battering her down.
He kept the pressure on, driving her back, not allowing her to disengage. When her back pressed against the wall, he chopped at her again and again, not bothering with any kind of subtlety. She blocked each attack, expending a little more energy every time, becoming weaker and weaker.
She slid down the wall, buckling under Victor’s constant attacks until she was sitting on the deck, her variblade held up in a quivering hand.
Victor was winded, and his heart thundered in his chest, but he had won. His opponent had no energy left.
He slapped the flat of his blade against the back of Mira’s hand. She yelped and her variblade—
his
variblade—clattered to the deck. He pushed the weapon behind him with the tip of his boot and held the tip of his own weapon under Mira’s chin. She looked up at him with a mix of fear and defiance.
“You fought well. Now tell me where the emperor is, and I’ll let you live as my prisoner,” Victor said.
“The emperor is dead!” Mira said, her voice cracking.
Victor sighed. “You made your choice.” He pulled back to deliver a killing thrust.
“Victor, stop!” Lena said. “She’s telling the truth!”
Victor glanced over his shoulder, keeping the tip of his variblade pointed at Mira. Lena was on her knees, blood seeping from the side of her temple.
“So how much is the emperor paying you to protect him, Lena?” he asked.
“I’m not protecting the emperor, you moron! I’m protecting his daughter!” Lena said.
“His daughter?” Victor looked back at Mira. He recognized something about her. Her eyes. Those fearful yet defiant eyes of hers. They were a brilliant sapphire blue. He had seen eyes like those once before, when they had stared down at him with hate as Savannah had burned.

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