DarkStar Running (Living on the Run Book 2) (6 page)

BOOK: DarkStar Running (Living on the Run Book 2)
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Lilia’s voice was quiet but confident. “Stan, let’s just get
through this. For whatever reason, I know what I’m doing. I can’t say why, but
I know everything from the ship’s name, to understanding what we’re up against.
Learn to live with this new dichotomy will you?”

Naïve young woman, he thought.

Fine.

Live and learn.

Who knows, maybe he was wrong. He shook himself. Blast! He
had to stop second guessing himself. He’d calm himself, give her the reins, and
correct any mistakes she’d make, then she’d come to learn why his military
experience trumped everything else.

Then it dawned on him, naïve or not, she deserved better
than what she got on Atheron. He’d muscle past pirates and patrols; past traps
and hidden dangers, and everything else thrown at them between here and
Providence to get her to safety . . . and out of his hair. If that,
and that alone was to be his one good deed, then so be it. He’d make it happen.

Chapter Nine

Blowing white powder a quarter mile into the air, the ship
exploded from the frozen snow with both
Darts
in hot pursuit. As the
other five interceptors took up the chase, Troy and Jessup headed for the
refinery to refuel.

In another moment Stan and Lilia were clear of Chagwa’s
atmosphere, well on their way to its moon. The
Darts
struggled to keep
up as this new ship pressed forward.

“Warning... danger,” alerted
DarkStar
as she swung
the tactical display around to the dark side of the moon.

Stan tensed. As he had guessed, two ships hid in its shadow.
“They look like Corsairs.”

“Pirates?” Lilia said in surprise. “Who wouldda guessed?”

“They’re just waiting for easy pickin’s.”

Lilia eased back in her chair. “Good.”

A throbbing head impaired his ability to think. “We’re
disadvantaged, waitress. What could possibly be good about having our escape
blocked?”

Without taking her eyes from the screen, she smiled with
intent. “Stan, haven’t you heard? Disadvantage brings to light the more clever
captain.”

Had he
heard
? It was what he lived for. Stan
practically coined the phrase . . . but where had this waitress
picked it up, and what did
she
now have in mind?


DarkStar
,” she said, “I want the engines to look
like they’re over-heating.”

“Can do, Captain. At your command.”

“Reduce speed. Let the
Darts
catch us right when
we’re in range of the Corsairs.”

Catching on to what she wanted, Stan realized she had
quickly come up with a good plan.
Where did that come from?
he thought.

“Get ready to take it from here, Stan.”

Stan tabbed his console to ready their plan. To all others
it would seem as if their over-heating engines would soon go critical.

“Going to
Level-B
stealth
in five seconds.”

As if spoken by someone else, Stan heard himself boldly say
what should have sounded like nonsense, but he understood completely. Through
intense pain he and she had learned all about this unique spacecraft in a
matter of moments. Lightning fast, technical data now scrolled through Stan’s head.
The ship had three stealth levels:
Level-A
would make the ship
completely undetectable, rendering no readings at all.
Level-B
made the
ship appear other than it was by projecting readings such as the over-heated
engines.

Unlike any other vessel,
DarkStar
could cast a
Sensory
Shadow-ship
, a holographic projected craft identical to her in every
way—size, shape, color; except the fake ship had no real substance. Combining
that feature with
Level-A
stealth mode would leave their adversaries
unaware of the true events.

“Creating a
Sensory Shadow-ship
,” Stan said, “and
going to
Level-A
. I’ll drop a class-2 Nuke and give us separation in 5
seconds.”

Stan placed the small nuclear bomb where the
Shadow-ship’s
engine core should be, had it been the real ship, and then pulled the now
invisible ship away. Taking
DarkStar’s
place, the
Shadow-ship
made it easy for the real ship to sneak away undetected.

Lilia whispered as if her voice would betray their true
position. “Looks like they’re taking the bait, Stan.”

“Aye, Cap. Easing away,” Stan responded quietly.

“Careful now.”

“As soon as both parties are within gunshot of our
Shadow-ship
.
I’ll detonate the bomb.”

“Good job, Stan. Each party will think the other shot
first.”


DarkStar
, resume control.” Stan said, easing back
from the controls. “Get us to a safe distance, and hold position there.”

Lilia made little effort to hide her distain. “We could wait
and watch these clowns hash out their differences . . . or we could
simply head to safety. Providence Prime awaits, does it not?”

“Watching the pending butchery makes little sense to you,
does it?” Stan kept a close eye on the screen.

“Well, no, actually. I see no reason to stay.”

Stan rubbed his neck. “Lilia, go fix yourself some lunch.
I’ll be down in a bit.”

Lilia shook her head and scowled. “Let’s leave these fools
to their own destruction.”

“You don’t want to stay? Fine. Go occupy your time with
something else. I’m sure this ship is full of distraction.”

“Can we just move on?” Lilia said, her tone growing irritable.

“Do what you will. I’m staying put to the end.”

“I don’t think so.”


Will the wonders never
cease?
You know, for a fleeting moment back there, I
thought you knew what it was to be a ship’s captain. Now, b
y the wildest
stretch of my imagination, I simply don’t see why I’d think such a silly
thing.”

“I am a captain,” she grumbled. “I just hate having to watch
these idiots go at it. Why would you want to stay for the show? Got some morbid
need to keep score?”

Ignoring her, Stan tabbed his console. The fake ship
exploded in a flash of light that quickly vanished, dissipating into the vacuum
of space.

He turned to Lilia. “
DarkStar
and I will take it from
here, Trog. Why don’t you go to the galley and fix yourself something to eat?
Maybe a meal will help you get back to feeling less ... Troggish. I’ll be down
in a bit.”

Coldly angry, Lilia conceded. “Galley, please.”

The flat wall behind them parted to form a doorway. Through
it, Stan saw a stainless steel kitchen and almost heard it call her by name.
Two steps through the door and the wall closed behind her, smoothing to hide
its secret perfectly.

Stan muttered softly to himself, “She’s got a heart of
stone, that one.”

“No, sir. She does not,”
DarkStar
said in its usual
soft, feminine voice. “She’s just not a
battle scene
and
carnage
kind of girl, sir.”

“Yeah, sure. So what does she think happens to soldiers in
space? Chances of survival are slim at best. Zilch if everyone thought as she
did.”

“She just wasn’t thinking, sir.”

“Never a truer statement said,
DarkStar
. I’m just
glad to get her off my bridge.”

As expected, when the smoke of the explosion cleared, the
Darts
spotted the pirate ships, and vice versa.

Stan could almost sense his former men wanting revenge
against the pirates. He, as their commander, had betrayed their trust, and in
an instant the pirates had snatched their vengeance from them, or so Stan had
made it seem. He imagined the angry thoughts of
his men.
We’ll have our revenge all right. One way or another we will settle
the score.

The pirates, on the other hand, would have nothing of these
soldier boys stealing their prey. Stan had dealt with their kind before, having
worked undercover among such men. He knew, more or less, how they would see
things.

Two Corsairs against seven small Darts? Why not? Bring it
on!
he pictured them boasting.
Maybe we can salvage a Confederate cannon
or two, or even an engine core reactor. If nothing else, we can sell the pilots
into slavery.
Skilled at survival, pirates were no fools in battle, and Stan’s
men shouldn’t take them lightly.

Well versed in battle tactics, Stan and his men had learned
the pirate’s secrets well—sly Lt. Troy Younger was the best among them—but
despite that, his ship was the first to get hit. Spinning out of control, his
Dart
scattered across 10 acres of the moon’s surface.

Knowing he could do nothing to prevent it, Stan felt his
chest tighten. Only moments ago, he had stood shoulder to shoulder with the
man. Truly, the loss of Troy’s life was senseless. Then he remembered Coalfire’s
warning, “This may be the last chance to get it right.” He felt a chill steal
down his back. Troy had made the wrong choice.

The
Darts
swarmed the Corsair that had taken out
their chief, ignoring the other one altogether. They hit it hard, and harder
still, before turning their attention back to the second ship. Stan approved,
but at the same time hoped his men would call off the attack. Except for
revenge, there was nothing to be gained.

With no attention paid him by the
Darts
, the second
Corsair moved in close to his partner to cover his buddy’s vulnerable areas.
Even so, the swift and agile
Wolverines
gave the pirates’ gunnery a good
showing.

As the battle raged, from a safe distance Stan sat in
silence watching each of his friends fall in turn. His heart sank.

This would prove to be a costly battle for both sides,
leaving no clear winner. After all was said and done, after the last gun had
cooled, only one Corsair limped away from this bloody battle. For the heavy
price it had paid, it bought only wounds to lick in secret.

The
Wolverines
, on the other hand, now reduced to
chunks of metal and bits of debris, wouldn’t leave at all; accept for two
well-timed escape pods.

Finding his way through the scuffle without being detected
was no easy task, but Stan managed somehow to get there and rescue the adrift
pods before the pirates could salvage them and enslave the survivors. The
pilots Stan had rescued he dealt with first.
DarkStar
rendered both men
unconscious before having them brought aboard. Although Stan wanted to make
himself known to them, he figured doing so was too risky. They had seen
DarkStar
explode and to them Stan was dead.
Best leave it that way,
he thought.
If the pilots knew he had survived,
DarkStar
was right, he’d be a hunted
man.

For the time being, each was given his own small, Spartan
room disguised holographicly to look like any prison cell on a pirate ship.
This was better than either cramped escape pod, but only just.

Once Stan had time to catch up on his rest, he would look in
on both men to see to their needs. But for now he’d have to consider the best
way to make his presence known to them, if at all. This was probably the most
complicated circumstance he’d ever been in.

The tough job was recovering the bodies of his onetime
friends, the men who hadn’t survived this clash. Troy’s was the only body he
couldn’t get to, and so he left Chagwa’s moon heartsick he couldn’t lay to rest
his longtime friend.

Distraught that he even let his men die without raising a
finger to help, or fight alongside them, he somberly gathered the bodies of
Wolverine
Squad into the cargo bay, tearfully spoke words of regret over each man, and
from there, sent them, one at a time, into Chagwa’s sun.

Turning to head to the galley, Stan nearly tripped over his
helmet. He picked it up. Stupid hash marks had yet to be dealt with.


DarkStar
, I need some white paint and a small
brush.”

“You’ll find those things in the repair shop, sir.”

Chapter Ten

The wall opened to the galley and Stan stepped through from
the cargo bay.

Lilia sat at the breakfast bar and slid a plate toward an
open seat across from her.

Still feeling stiff, Stan poured himself a drink, eased
gingerly into the chair, suppressing the urge to groan, releasing an
uncomfortable breath, then took a bite of the sandwich, half expecting to taste
a chemically synthesized over-processed meat-vegetable substitute wedged
between two pieces of cardboard like that served by the military. But this . . .
this
was heaven. He rolled his eyes in ecstasy and swallowed. His
appetite suddenly put in an appearance, and Stan consumed half his sandwich in
short order. He gestured toward the uneaten half.

“This is great. What is it?”

“Just a little something
DarkStar
came up with. It
was made to meet your nutritional needs as well as excite your pallet. Go
figure.”

“My compliments,
DarkStar
. You did a wonderful job.”
He took another bite, rolled his eyes in contentment, and tackled the second
half of the sandwich.

“Thank you, Captain Archer,” that soft voice said. “Will
there be anything else?”

“Nothing more, thank you.” He popped the last bite into his
mouth, washed it down with his drink, and leaned back.

Lilia eyed him with curiosity. “I see you’ve come in from
the cargo bay instead of from the bridge.”

Her pleasant attitude suggested she had forgotten his ‘Trog’
comment on the bridge. Happy to let it lie, he forced a sly smile, but remained
quiet.

“Not going to say, hmm? A man with a secret.”

His smile fell away.

Yes, he had a secret he’d just as soon keep to himself; the
fact that he now regretted his past deeds bothered him considerably. He didn’t
like being nagged by a . . . by a conscience. Burying such emotions,
pushing them to the back of his mind was no longer as easy as it once was.

She caught his blank stare, which seemed to make her
self-conscious. “What? Do I have spinach in my teeth or something?”

He shook himself from his morose thoughts. “Oh, I was
thinking, Miss Slone, just this morning you were minding your own business
waiting tables.”

“Mr. Archer, for somebody who wants to be Captain, you can’t
even keep track of time.”

Stan glanced at the ship’s chronometer, which now displayed
the real reason for his fatigue,
Six A.M.
He had been awake for
twenty-six hours straight. “I’m the one who’s made space my home. That more
than qualifies me to captain
DarkStar
. The only question I have is; what
am I to do with you?”

She leaned across the breakfast bar and gave him a stern
look. “What are you to do with me? What am I to do with you, Captain Archer,
when you still think you’re in charge?”

“Oh, are we back to that?”

“I’m not yours to do with as you please. I am a free woman.”

“Hmm, so you are.”

“And
you
are a free man. How does it feel?”

Was he? Did any of his actions really make him a
free
man? He considered the ache that still wracked his body. Was it recompense for
the
Emperor’s Princess
? If so, then what was Lilia’s pain payment for?
Perhaps a bit of sleep would help him figure things out.

“I’m tired. It’s been a long day, woman. We have a long trip
ahead of us. With all these pirates and patrols about, if we ever return, there’s
certainly going to be a trouble ahead. This ship has to be reliant.”

“That’s it!” Lilia’s sudden outburst nearly jolted Stan out
of his chair.

“What? What did I say?”

The woman’s eyes brightened, beaming with enthusiasm. “I’ve
been wracking my brain for an appropriate name for this ship. What do you think
of
Reliant
?”

“Excuse me?”


Reliant
. Look, she’s jet black with no markings. We
can’t continue like this can we? We need a disguise, and I was thinking . . .
how about that of an old freighter? We could name it
Reliant
, right?”

“Can you do that?”

“With your help, sure. You know best what is least likely to
attract attention. Give me a hand with some input, will you?”

The shake of his head was slight, but its meaning should be
clear to her. “I’m pretty tired, girl. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Stan, have you considered the complexity of this ship?” Lilia
turned and looked toward the living room and then turned back to study the
galley cabinets, fixtures, and utilities. “She’s an unusual, unique spaceship,
but there’s more to
DarkStar
than meets the eye. She belongs to both of
us so I believe we ought to work on things like this together.”

“Sure, Miss Slone. Tomorrow?”

“Well yeah, but—”

“Look. She’s not a freighter by any stretch of the
imagination. If anything, she’s a yacht.”

“A yacht, huh? Then how do you explain that huge cargo bay
at her center? Three stories high, eighty feet long of what, exactly?”

Stan shrugged. “Okay. So this yacht has a very . . .
very
big . . . luggage compartment.”

Lilia leaned forward, her eyes, cool and determined. “So,
what are you saying?”

“Just that getting her to look like an old freighter will
take some doing, and I need to crash for a few, catch up on my rest before I
tackle a project this big.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Look. While I snooze, you can work up some preliminaries,
okay.”

Lilia dropped her gaze in disappointment before looking back
up. “See you after?”

He gently took her hand. “Or during?”

She snapped her hand back. “Good night, Mr. Archer.”

“Trogs,” Stan said coldly as he got to his feet. “You people
ever have fun?” Without waiting for an answer, he headed to his room.

 

“When you had the chance,
DarkStar
,”
Lilia
asked
, “w
hy
,
didn’t you remove his ‘Vulgar’ gene?”

“Lilia,”
DarkStar
said, “do you know why he stayed to
the end of this last battle?”

“I suppose it was that same stupid gene. Like I said, why
didn’t you remove it when you had the chance?”

“Stan Archer isn’t without his faults, ma’am, but he has a
good heart.”

“And you derive that farfetched idea from where, exactly?”

“You have two rescued men on board. At great risk to
himself, he recovered two life pods, ma’am. That was the real reason he stayed,
not because of some gruesome interest in battle. He also wanted to bury his
friends; those that didn’t make it.”

“Oh.” Lilia dropped her eyes. “I haven’t given the man much
of a chance, have I? Some
believer
I’ve been.”

“So, you’re not without your faults, either?”

“Apparently not.”

“All Captain Archer wants is to discover who you really are.
He may be crude at times, but you can trust him to respect your virtue. How did
you get to your bed, Capt. Slone, when you were unconscious?”

Lilia speared fingers through her hair to scratch her head.
“He did that?”

“Despite the tremendous pain he was in, he displayed
remarkable compassion toward you, someone he thinks he should hate.”

“When I think back, in the short time I’ve known him, he has
done nothing but save me, hasn’t he? He spared my life when he should have
taken it, gotten me off planet at his own expense, and twice put himself
between me and a bullet. Why would he do that? And why does he keep calling me
‘Trog?’”

There was a moment of silence before
DarkStar
answered. “Although he himself doesn’t yet know, I’m certain you do.”

DarkStar
had given Stan’s memories to Lilia and hers
to him. Seeing herself as he had, Lilia envisioned his approaching her at the
tavern yesterday morning, and felt the mix of emotions that had flooded his
mind. Yes, she knew just how he had felt, and understood what had raged in his
heart . . . although he did not.

But given what she now knew to be true . . . what
should she do with that?

Before long she found herself in the hallway heading to his
room. Once there, she peeked in.

Exhausted atop the bed, he lay flat on his back fully
clothed, his broad chest rising and falling softly.

Lilia stepped in to sit on his bed, and took his hand in
hers. “Thank you, soldier,” she whispered, “for rescuing me.” After taking a
moment to study his chiseled face, she rose and stepped from the room.

“It wasn’t as if I could do less, Lilia,” he answered
softly, then drifted off to sleep.

BOOK: DarkStar Running (Living on the Run Book 2)
8.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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