Sacred Planet: Book One of the Dominion Series (3 page)

Sierra gaped as he soared into the cargo hold with the safe—
her
safe, full of
her
most precious possessions.

After shoving the safe into a nook, Davin’s face sobered. “And Princess? I’m sorry about your crew.”

The words pelted her like meteorites. Suddenly, she felt nothing but guilt. How could she have forgotten, even for a moment, about her crew, each of them the beloved of God, swept from existence in a matter of minutes? Guilt gave way to the hot sting of shame.

Davin hung in the air not far from her, eyebrows drawn together, looking hesitant. “You okay?”

A brusque question, even though she sensed him trying to be tender.

For a long time, she said nothing, felt nothing, except her heart crumbling in her chest, struggling to beat. He reached out and touched her forearm with a gentle hand. Coarse and weathered but gentle.

Sierra felt like breaking into tears, but she restrained herself. She had a more pressing concern. Deep down, she remained certain her attackers were the Abramists, her fellow Carinians.

She pulled her arm out of Davin’s reach. “Are there any ships nearby? Or has anyone tried to contact you since you found me?”

Davin recoiled. “Why would you ask that?”

Sierra felt a weight drop in her chest. “You have. Who was it?”

“I didn’t say anybody contacted us,” Davin said uneasily.

“You have a bad poker face.”

Davin scoffed. “What poker face?”

“
Who contacted you?
”

Davin sighed. Behind him, ignoring them, Jabron tossed small appliances and scrap metal into the airlock.

“No idea who it was,” Davin said. “But they’re Carinian. Three ships are inbound right now.”

Sierra’s eyes widened. “They didn’t say they were from the government?”

Davin shrugged. “I just assumed they’re some secret agency. Royal guard, princess division, something like that.”

“Was he wearing a black uniform? With silver buttons?”

“Uh . . . yeah, he was.”

“
Shit
,” she whispered. An impolite outbreak, but one she figured wouldn’t offend in this setting.

“Who are they?” Davin asked.

“They’re a radical faction in Carina,” she said. “Abramists. The Dominionist Party.”

Davin’s brow furrowed. “The super-religious war hawks?”

Jabron pressed the button to close the inner airlock door and looked up at them.

Sierra took in a stunted breath. Could she trust these scavengers? She had no choice. “They’ve been pushing for war against the Sagittarians for decades. My only guess is they saw my ship coming out to the border planets and staged an attack to make it look like the Sagittarians did it.”

“What were you doing out here at the border planets anyway?”

She shook her head. “Meeting with planetary leaders. Trying to steel them against Abramist influence, sway them away from war.”

The band around Davin’s wrist buzzed and beeped. It emitted a woman’s voice: “Got a vizchat request from the Carinians, Cap. They’re getting close.”

He raised his wrist. “In capture range?”

“For the past five minutes.”

“Hold up. We’re coming.”

His eyes lingered on Sierra a moment longer, then he pushed himself toward the hatch door, motioning for Sierra and Jabron to follow.

Davin opened his palm toward Sierra to halt her at the entrance of the crowded cockpit. Jabron, Jai, and Strange already huddled over the old-fashioned instrument panel of manual switches and keypads. Besides, he couldn’t let the Carinians see her in his ship. Not yet anyway. Not until he had some leverage, some room to set a price.

“Say nothing about me,” Sierra said, gripping a handlebar in one hand and her loose pants in the other.

Davin held back a laugh. She looked like a homeless stowaway. “Of course not, your majesty.”

Strange poked her head around Jabron’s bulk. Her ponytail wafted weightlessly under the bill of her backwards baseball cap. “On the dashboard screen, Cap. Waiting for you.”

Davin maneuvered to the dash and swiped the video icon at the bottom of the screen. An image appeared of the same man as before, graying mustache-and-chin action along with the black collar. He put on a pleasant smile that thinly masked his irritation.

“Am I speaking to the captain of the
HCC
Fossa
?”

“That would be me,” Davin replied. “Davin de la Fossa, live and in the flesh.”

The Carinian began to speak, but Davin cut him off. “Now, before you get upset, let me acknowledge that a couple items from the wreckage did find their way onboard my ship. But they are all now accumulated in the airlock. All I’ve gotta do is press a button and they’re gone.”

“So why haven’t you yet?” the Carinian asked with raised eyebrow.

Davin reached across the control board and flicked a switch. A square in the corner of the dash screen showed a feed from inside the airlock as the doors opened and a bunch of knickknacks flew out. Then he flipped the switch up again and watched the doors close.

“See? All gone.”

“Thank you for your compliance.” The Carinian gave a slight nod but didn’t seem satisfied. “Did you come across any survivors?”

“Nope,” Davin said, a bit too casually. “Only bodies. Whatever hit their ship took ‘em out fast.”

The Carinian’s eyebrows twitched. “Indeed.” He looked down for a moment. “Our scanners read you have five people aboard your ship. Is that correct?”

Davin looked at Strange and Jabron, taken off guard. “Uh, yeah. That’s creepy, but correct.”

“Please list each of their names.” The fellow’s eyes flicked up, waiting, as if ready to take notes.

“Sorry, but no can do. This is an Orionite ship carrying an Orionite crew, and I’ve got no obligation to—”

“
May I remind you
,” the Carinian interrupted, “you are in Carinian space, and it is a violation of Carinian law to approach or loot a crippled Carinian ship.”

Davin had a brilliant thought. “And are you from the Carinian government?” If he said yes, he would be admitting to their proximity to the attack, thus creating suspicion against the Carinian government. If he said no, he had no authority to boss Davin around.
Brilliant.

“We are Carinian citizens,” came the unfazed reply. “And under Carinian space charter, code six point fifteen point eighty-four, citizens have the right to act on behalf of law enforcement in defense of a Carinian-registered ship against a non-Carinian ship.”

Damn!
Too rusty on that Carinian space law.

Strange leaned toward Davin and whispered, “Doesn’t give them the right to strip search us.”

“We’ve complied with you and released all items from the wreckage,” Davin said. “Now, as I see it, we’re under no other obligations and we’re gonna leave. Sorry for the trouble.” He switched off the dash screen, turned around, and let out his breath.

Sierra moved further into the cockpit, eyes bulging, cheeks so red they almost hid her freckles. “Get me out of here. I’m begging you.
Please
, get me out. You’ll be rewarded, I swear.”

“I don’t know, boss,” Jabron said, not looking at Sierra. “She worth it?”

“My father is a good man,” Sierra pleaded. “He repays his debts, and if you return me, he’ll be
deeply
indebted to you.”

Davin crossed his arms. “You suggesting we go
deeper
into Carinian space? Where we’ll stick out like a cold tit?”

“No!” she said. “Well, yes, but—”

“I say we tell ‘em we got her,” Jabron said, eyes on Davin. “Then get to a safe distance, dump her out the airlock in a suit. We get away, they get their girl. Everybody wins.”

“Except me!” Sierra exclaimed, shaking with intensity and fear. “They’ll
kill
me! Can’t you see that? Your ship and theirs are the only ones in this area. It was either you or them, and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t you.”

“Boss, use your head,” Jabron said, noticing the conflict on Davin’s face. “The one on your shoulders. This girl ain’t worth risking our lives—”

“They attacked my ship,” Sierra said. “Now they’re coming to finish what they started. Please, Davin . . . don’t let them.”

Four pairs of eyes rested on him, waiting for a decision. Davin had never taken up the role of hero, and wasn’t about to start, but this girl
did
represent a lot of money. Old Man Falco’s pockets ran deep, and a few hundred million sharebucks would be no skin off his nose for the safe return of his daughter. Plus, this Sierra girl was kinda cute. And innocent as a puppy. Could he live with himself for dumping her to a group of homicidal fanatics?

“Cap, something we haven’t considered yet,” Strange piped up.

“What’s that?”

“If they find out we have the princess on our ship, they might just take her and then blow us up anyway.”

Jabron stirred. “That’s why we get to a safe distance—”

“They’ve got three military-class frigates!” Strange protested. “We won’t be able to outrun ‘em.”

“No chance they telling the truth?” Jai asked, growing more worried by the second.

“Listen to your pilot,” Sierra said. “She’s right. Carinian citizens don’t own gunships, much less three of them. These are Abramists—extremists. I didn’t think they would go this far, but . . . they did.”

“And they won’t blow us up as long as they’re not sure if we’ve got her aboard,” Strange added.

“Alright,” Davin said with finality. “Get us out of here, Strange. Everybody else, find a seat and strap in.”

Jabron set his jaw tight and leaped out the exit past Sierra, not sparing her a glance, while Jai plunged himself into the co-pilot’s seat. Davin took Sierra’s hand and pulled her along behind him, into the spacious living chamber that held their kitchenette, a few built-in couches, and the custom entertainment hub—Davin’s pride and joy, assembled by his own hands. Davin planted Sierra on a couch and pulled the straps over her chest as Strange’s voice warbled through his nexband.

“Gonna be accelerating fast! Hang on tight, everybody!”

Sierra shivered as she gripped her safety straps, whispering something desperately.

Davin pulled himself into the cushy lazyboy, his captain’s chair, bolted into the floor in front of the massive TV screen. He strapped in and brought up a 3-D map of the space surrounding the
Fossa
from a control panel in the arm of the chair. The three huge frigates hung in the space around their little clipper and the hunk of floating debris beside it. Less than three kilometers away. Only a master pilot could escape this rat trap.

Luckily, he had one in the pilot’s seat.

“Punch it, Strange!”

The ship lurched.

The scavenger ship rocked violently in no apparent pattern. Up, down, left, right, corkscrew. Pressure built up in Sierra’s head and tied her stomach in knots. Styluses, little gadgets, and empty food wrappers swirled around the compartment, falling one direction and then another.

Sierra craned her head to see past Davin’s well-worn chair to the huge screen. Her vision blurred from the ship’s motion, but slowly she made out the colored shapes that comprised the digital map. Skeletal outlines on the black backdrop showed everything in the surrounding space, contours shifting so fast she could barely make anything out. Her yacht’s distinctive tail fins established a point of view. The scavenger clipper zigzagged through the wreckage, trying to keep the intact part of her yacht’s hull between itself and the frigates. So far, the frigates stayed still. It appeared as if they were letting the scavenger ship escape.

Then a rod zipped out from one of the frigates and smashed through a tail fin on her yacht, barely whizzing by the clipper. Scattered debris showered the clipper and made a series of thunks against the outer hull.

“We’re fine!” the lady pilot’s voice peeped from some unknown speakers. “No serious damage.”

“Just don’t let one of those rods hit us!” Davin shouted into his nexband. “They even graze us and we’re scrap.”

The ship lurched a few more times, hurling Sierra into her safety straps. She tightened them as far as they would go and strained to see the screen. Her yacht spun and turned over itself from the hit. Those beautiful, iridescent fins . . .

Another rod lanced from a frigate and blasted through the main body of the yacht, exploding shards of debris like confetti out the other side. In a few seconds, the debris caught up with the scavenger ship and more thunks pounded the hull.

Sierra closed her eyes and prayed, her last line of defense. She had no more power. Only God could save her—God and these Orionite strangers. She felt utterly powerless, helpless as a child, and afraid. So afraid. Her own death had never seemed so close, so tangible.

Have mercy on us, Lord. Have mercy . . .

Her thoughts strayed with every bounce, every jerk, every pound of pressure smashing her brain against the side of her skull.

“Watch out for the capture lines!” Davin exclaimed. A heavy bump wrenched the entire ship, making Sierra’s head jolt like a mop being flicked around. Something popped in her neck and caused an immediate pain.

“Dammit, they got us!” the pilot hissed through the speakers.

“Cut the line!” Davin commanded.

“Can’t. It’s nanofiber.”

God have mercy on me, please . . .

“It just caught a water storage bin,” Davin said. “Release it.”

God save us . . .

A quick wheeze sped through the ship’s metal walls, followed by a momentary burst of speed. Sweet, fleeting relief washed through her.

“Oh, they’re pissed now!” the pilot’s voice crackled. “They’re just throwin’ shit at the wall, hoping somethin’ sticks!”

More thunks and bangs against the hull, one so loud it made Sierra scream and press her hands over her ears until the gee force pulled her arms back down. Everything vibrated and rattled. Trinkets whipped back and forth through the open air following the rapid shift of acceleration. She felt lightheaded, sick to her stomach, fading out of consciousness. Her insides flattened against her rib cage.

“Deploy decoy drones!” Davin shouted. “Strange, deploy the drones!
Now!
”