On a Rogue Planet (3 page)

“Fifteen meters.” His voice was hoarse.

A roar sounded behind them and they both stiffened.

“Fuck.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Double fuck. Move it!” Her pulse surged, blood racing through her veins.

Three giants were running in their direction.

Mal and Xander managed a shambling run toward the ship. Shit, they weren’t going to make it.

The whine of laser fire sounded from nearby. Mal expected to feel the burn of it cut through her. Instead, she spotted Traxan huddled beside a starship engine, firing at the giants.

The giants scattered and Mal focused on reaching the ship. At the entry, she pressed a palm to the pad beside the door and it hissed open. “Go!”

They made it in. She leaned Xander against the wall to keep him upright. The giants were nearly on them. Trax was nowhere to be seen.

She pressed the control and closed the door.
Please stay safe, Trax.

“They’ll bypass…your…security,” Xander barely managed to get the words out. The run had clearly taken it out of him.

“They can try,” she muttered fiercely. She touched the matching pad on the inside, yanked off the cover and disconnected some wires. “We need to take off…like yesterday—”

A weight hit the door, making Mal stumble back.

It was followed by more
thumps
on the metal, and the faint sound of growls and snarling.

She spun. “I’ll dump you in sick bay and get us off-world, then I’ll—”

“No.”

She blinked. “No? What do you mean no?”

“Coming to…cockpit. Can help.”

“Tough guy, you can’t even stay on your feet by yourself.”

“I. Can. Help.” His gaze was intense.

Men
. She huffed out a breath. It was quicker not to argue. “Come on, then.”

Again, with her shoulder in his side, they travelled the dull-gray corridors to the front of the ship.

The cockpit was open and spacious, with a large, curved viewscreen showing a burning Haxx ahead of them. She saw him take everything in. No doubt it was very different from the sleek, snug Infiltrators he was used to piloting. Freighters went longer distances and were rarely under fire, so they could be more comfortable.

Four seats sat along the curved console below the viewscreen, the middle two designated for pilot and navigator. The other two were comms and engineering.

“Strap in.” She helped him into the navigator’s chair.

When he struggled with the straps, she reached over and clicked them in place. He stared at her hands.

She knew what he saw. Short nails, callused fingers and probably the remnants of starship grease. She snatched her hands back and felt heat in her cheeks. She dropped into the pilot’s chair.

The clang of metal on metal echoed through the ship.

“Shit.” She reached out and touched a screen. It flashed to life, and showed camera footage of the ship’s entrance.

The giants were attempting to batter their way in with a ram.

“Engines,” Xander said.

She didn’t argue. Her hands began a frantic dance across the screens. Moments later, the engines roared to life.

Xander’s eyes narrowed on the command console. “Not standard.”

“Nope.” She plotted their course. “Not much is standard. I’ve added a few enhancements.”

His gaze moved to her and stayed there for a long moment. “Hidden depths.”

“You betcha. Now, hold on.” She touched the controls and the ship lifted off.

As they rose, she executed a quick turn. Her baby was a lot more maneuverable than a standard Norian freighter. The viewscreen gave another glimpse of Haxx and the thick plumes of smoke rising above the academies.

Xander’s hands clenched on the armrests of his chair but his face was its usual blank mask.

Then they shot forward. Fast.

“Engines aren’t standard either,” he said.

She turned her head and grinned. “Nope.”

He studied her for a long moment before focusing again on the viewscreen.

“Five minutes and we’ll clear atmo.” She checked the engine power levels. “Then we’ll get the hell out of here.”

But the sudden wailing of an alarm made them both tense.

“Fuck!” Mal leaned to the left, flicking at various touchscreens. “Incoming.” She looked his way. “Squadron of Infiltrators.”

He slammed a fist against the console so hard he dented the metal.

“Hey! Don’t damage my ship.” She pushed his hand off the console. “Can you contact them? Call them off.”

“They are not under Centaxian control. The mercenaries have seized control of the Security spaceport.”

Not good
. Mal chewed on her lip. “You’re telling me those giants are flying those Infiltrators?”

“Most likely.”

“Shit.” She tapped at the controls. “I’ll try and pull some extra power from—”

Another alarm sounded. This time Xander reached forward and touched the screen in front of him. “Incoming ion missile. Starboard side.” He spoke like he were giving her a weather report.

“Shields are up.”

“Won’t stop these missiles. They’re designed to penetrate shields.”

Her stomach dropped. “What?”

“New Centaxian tech.”

The ship shuddered and they were both tossed forward in their seats, held in place by their straps.

More alarms sounded. Mal worked furiously at the controls. “We’ve lost grav and enviro in the cargo area. No hull breach.”

“Yet.”

“Hey, positive attitude please.”

Another hit. The ship shuddered again and this time the console to the right exploded, sparks raining over both of them.

“Damn it. I’ve lost one of the engines.” Her hands flew in a blur over the controls. “We can’t take another hit.”

Xander reached forward and touched his palms to the console.

“What are you doing?” she bit out.

He ignored her, his gaze turned inward. Once again, his eyes flared that eerie neon green.

Even in the midst of chaos, she couldn’t help but stare at him. Damn, he was a handsome. Not to mention scary. “Xander—”

“I’m strengthening the shields and the weapons systems.”

“Your eyes—”

“A sign I’m utilizing my advanced cyborg systems.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “However, they are still not fully back online. But we will get off Centax, Malin.” His voice was colder than ice. “I will do whatever is required to get us out of here.”

Mal couldn’t look away from him. The luminescence of his eyes cast a glow over his black uniform. She saw the lines of pain on his face soften, and that scary blankness deepen.

He looked less man and far more…something else.

Another insistent alarm. She palmed the screen. “Infiltrators are coming back! Weapons are locked.” Her heart pounded in her chest like a wild animal attempting to burst free.

She glanced out the viewscreen, could just see the squadron of five sleek black ships heading straight toward them.

Then her ship’s lasers fired. An explosion ahead.

The lead Infiltrator went down.

She turned her head toward Xander. He stared straight ahead, his chest rising and falling at an even, steady pace.

Her freighter’s lasers opened fire again. Looking back at the viewscreen, she saw two Infiltrators go wild, spiraling downward and out of control.

The remaining two ships veered away.

“Environmental controls are reestablished in the cargo area,” Xander said in a monotone.

Mal slowly turned back to the man beside her.

“Unfortunately, the gravity system is damaged.”

“That’s okay.” She swallowed.

“So is the primary engine. I can only get thirty-five-percent power from it.”

With a shake, Mal focused back on her touchscreen, confirming Xander’s assessment. “Not great. But I can still get us home on that and a functioning secondary.”

“To Khan.”

She stilled. “You know where I live.”

“Yes.”

Her lips firmed. “What else do you have in those records of yours?”

“I know your cousins are the Phoenix brothers. And I need their help.”

“Why?”

“The mercenaries have stolen something. Something of great value to Centax. I need—” Suddenly, his body spasmed. His palms flattened against the console, his body arching forward. “We’ve lost the rear stabilizers.”

Her eyes widened and the ship lurched in a sickening spiral. “Shit…shit.” Without the stabilizers, they weren’t going anywhere.

She tapped the screen, trying to repair the system. Nothing.

The ship veered starboard, slamming her against her straps and her shoulder into Xander’s hard body.

“I can’t fix it…from here.” She worked feverishly, shutting down systems they didn’t need and shunting power into the stabilizers.

It didn’t work.

“We’re headed toward Charox,” Xander said.

Centax’s only moon. A hunk of unforgiving rock.

Malin yanked her harness off, jumped up and ran toward the engineering console. She crouched, yanked off the outer cover and pulled out the cables beneath. If she could splice the navigation conduit with the stabilizer controls, maybe, just maybe, they could avoid smashing into teeny tiny pieces on Charox’s surface.

But nothing she did succeeded in getting the stabilizers back online.

“Damn it.” She slammed a fist against the console. “I have to go down to the engine.” It was a long shot. “Maybe if I can—”

“Malin, strap in.”

Xander’s voice now sounded strained. He was leaning over the command console, palms still flat against it. But his big body was tense, sweat dripping down his face.

“What are you doing?” She raced over.

“Strap in.”

He was clearly still interfaced with her ship.

“What are you—?”

“Strap. In.” His words were like bullets.

She sank into her chair and pulled her straps on.

Slowly, the ship righted. Her lips parted and she stared at the screen. The stabilizers were back online. Not at full capacity, but enough for the ship to function.

It wasn’t possible! They were too damaged.

Her gaze shot to Xander.

Lines bracketed his mouth and his face was pale.

He was killing himself to stabilize the
Firebird
.

“Xander, enough.”

He ignored her.

She gripped his arm. “Enough!”

“Almost…there.”

“You’re going to kill yourself!” She heard the fear in her tone. “Enough.”

She managed to yank one of his hands off the console. His body started convulsing.

“Shit.” She helped him back into his chair and his head slumped forward.
Please don’t be dead
. She touched her fingertips to his neck. Felt a pulse.

Okay, the best thing she could do for him was get them safely back to Khan. He’d nearly killed himself to get the
Firebird
functional again.

She set a course for the Phoenix moon.

Then she noticed the flashing red light on the console and her chest tightened. Damn it. Couldn’t they catch a break?

Enviro was failing…not just in the cargo bay but across the ship.

She glanced at the unconscious CenSec beside her. This time she was on her own. She had to find a way to keep him and herself alive.

Mal blinked slowly, trying to stay conscious.

She’d shut down everything she could except the engines and the enviro system in the cockpit.

But even that was failing now.

“Oxygen at unsafe levels,” said a modulated female computer voice.

Mal dragged in a shuddering breath. They were close. They had to be. She just had to hold on a little while longer.

She sagged against her straps and tried to focus on Xander’s inert body beside her. He hadn’t regained consciousness. She swallowed the huge lump in her throat. His face was pressed against the console, turned her way. He looked less intimidating with his eyes closed and muscles loose. His dark lashes were ridiculously long.

Suddenly his eyes shot open.

“Xander?” she whispered.

His eyes flickered. “Status.”

Not a question, an order. The very corner of her lips twitched. “On course. An hour from Khan.”

At her husky murmur, his dark eyebrows drew together. When she’d first seen him, she’d thought him completely void of emotion. But a childhood spent travelling the galaxy with her dad had made her a people watcher and she was starting to glimpse tiny hints that he did feel something, sometimes. Drawn brows, the tightening of his jaw, the longer than normal pauses.

“My systems are…damaged.”

“Whatever you did to stabilize the ship, it took you out. You’ve been unconscious.”

He tried to move and groaned.

Mal dragged in a breath and tried to move too. With no success. She slumped forward again. She had no energy. She just wanted to sleep.

“Malin, something else is wrong.”

“Enviro’s failing.”

His jaw tightened. “Have you—?”

“I’ve tried every trick I know.”

“Have you sent a distress call?”

“Comms are damaged.”

“Without my systems functioning, I’m unable to do anything more.”

“Well, all I’ve got left is prayer.”

“You believe in gods?”

She studied his face. Nothing showed in his extraordinary eyes but she could swear he was curious. “Not really. I don’t like the idea of dancing to some god’s whim. I believe in doing every damn thing I can to make my life the way I want it to be.” Not that it always worked. She managed a shrug. “And when life’s out of control, sometimes you just have to wing it.”

“Wing it?” His brows drew together.

Something told her Xander Saros never winged it. She wanted to laugh but exhaustion washed over her like a wave and her eyelids fluttered closed.

“Malin! Open your eyes.”

She did. “So bossy.”

“I was created to give orders.” A pause. “You can’t sleep.”

He said it in such a tone of command, she gave a faint hiccupping laugh. “Keep me awake then, tough guy. Talk to me. Not that it seems to be your strong suit.”

“Talk about what?”

“I don’t know. You. Centax.” Her gaze landed on the silver implant at his temple. “When did you get your first implant? It usually starts around sixteen, right?”