The trooper reacted, suddenly, pulling his weapon away from Lorillard, spinning around frantically. He got about halfway when he dropped to one knee. He held the weapon up, for another second, perhaps, and then it slipped from his hand.

  He was hit, Lorillard realized. Badly.

  The Foudre Rouge reached down to his belt, fumbling for the pistol holstered at his side. But before he could draw the weapon, a shadow came up behind him. A figure emerged, moving into view.

  Andi Lafarge. Bloodied, battered…but with a look on her face that froze Lorillard’s blood.

  She reached around, tore off the wounded trooper’s helmet, sending it crashing to the deck. Then he saw the knife in her hand, watched as it slashed across the Union trooper’s throat, too fast for eyes to follow. The soldier wobbled for an instant, and then he fell forward, face down, as the blood poured from his throat, pooling out around his still form.

  Andi stood there a moment, looking like the angel of death personified. She was cold, ruthless, without pity or mercy, her blade, now stained red, clutched tightly in her hand. She remained, unmoving, apparently unfeeling, for a few seconds.

  Then, Lorillard caught her gaze, and her eyes fixed on him. She looked at his arm, the terrible wound, the blood. Suddenly, there was something there, emotion, empathy.

  Tears.

  * * *

  Andi’s eyes fixed on Lorillard, and she almost felt her heart stop. She’d killed the last Foudre Rouge, cut through the flesh of his throat with more malice and fury than she’d imagined possible. She’d felt a spark inside, the feeling of victory. She’d made it. She’d taken out the enemy, at least all those that were there at the moment. She’d gotten there in time.

  Or had she?

  She looked down at the captain…and at the blood all around him.

  She raced over, dropping to her knees in the circle of viscous blood surrounding him. She felt the sickly-warm wetness through the knees of her pants, even as he hands moved to his stricken arm, slowly pulling at the matted fabric, stained deepest red, that covered it.

  “Andi, what are you…”

  “This is going to hurt, Cap…” She ignored Lorillard’s question. She’d disobeyed his orders, yes, and they could have a long talk about it once they got back to the ship. She pulled at the fabric, trying to extract the strands that had been driven into the wound. She pushed back as she almost wretched at the sight of the injury. Between almost rhythmic spurts of blood, she could see muscle torn open and shards of bone visible. Lorillard’s arm wasn’t wounded. It was destroyed.

  That’s okay, she told herself. He can get a good prosthesis when we get back to Dannith.

  But even as the thought drifted through her mind, she knew that would never happen. Lorillard wasn’t going to make it back to Dannith. He wasn’t going to make it back to Nightrunner.

  She hadn’t given up completely, or at least her mind was still shouting at itself, insisting there was hope. Rational thought and blind loyalty squared off in her head, ready to fight for her next actions, but even as they did, she knew there was no hope.

  Lorillard groaned with every pull of fabric, every attempt she made to push flaps of flesh back into place. She reached down, cut off a section of her tunic with the knife, and she began to wrap it around Lorillard’s arm. Her eyes darted around, staring at the pools of blood, trying to get an idea of just how much he’d lost already. Even as she fashioned the makeshift tourniquet, she knew, somewhere deep inside, that she was too late.

  “Andi…” The captain’s voice was weak, his tone hollow. “It’s too late…I know that. You know…”

  “Captain, just lay back. I’ll take care of…” Her voice was choked by the tears she was barely holding back, and even as Lorillard interrupted her, she pulled hard on the strip of cloth, tying it off just above the deepest wound.

  “Andi…aaaagghhh…” Lorillard’s comment was choked off by his cries of pain as Andi affixed the tourniquet. “Andi,” he said again, the difficulty growing with each word he spoke. “…too late…not going to make it…”

  Andi heard sounds off to the side, Sylene and Yarra rushing over, dropping down next to her, tears filling both their eyes as they gazed at their stricken leader.

  “Bomb…ready?” Lorillard gritted his teeth as he struggled to turn his head toward the engineer.

  “Yes, Captain…it’s ready.” Andi wasn’t sure what was going on, but she could tell from Yarra’s tone that something was wrong. “But the timer…” She held up a small device. It was torn open, twisted into an irregular shape. At least one of the Foudre Rouge’s bullets had struck it.

  “Bomb still work?” Lorillard rasped for breath as he spoke.

  “Yes, but…” A short pause. “But there’s no way to set it now. It will detonate as soon as the switch is turned.”

  Andi’s stomach clenched fiercely. She knew what Lorillard was going to say before a word escaped his lips. Worse, she knew there was no other choice.

  “Leave it with me…and get out…of here. Now.”

  “No, Captain…we can’t…” Andi’s voice lost all its sternness and all of the strength that had been there so recently. It was a plea now, the desperate cries of a child. “We can’t leave you.” And even as she said it, she knew they had to do just that.

  “No time to…argue. Not…going to…make it anyway…” Lorillard sucked in a deep and painful breath, and he exhaled, a thin spray of blood coming up with the air. “Too im…portant…to fail…” He angled his head, looked right at Andi. “Please…don’t want to…die for…nothing…”

  Yarra wiped her hand across her face, and she sniffled hard, struggling to banish the tears, at least for a few seconds. “We have to get you closer to the cylinder, Captain…” She got the words out, and Andi was grateful.

  She was grateful because she didn’t have to.

  “Help me…up…” Lorillard extended his good arm toward Yarra. The engineer reached out, taking hold under the captain’s armpit. Lorillard flashed a glance at Andi, one that pled with her for her help.

  She knew what he wanted her to do, and she dreaded it. She leaned forward, sliding her hand under his shattered arm, and she lifted, as gently as possible. She could feel that he was trying to hold back his cries, but they burst out anyway, the sound of pure agony.

  Andi’s face was sloppy with tears, even as she pulled harder, and with Yarra’s help, got him up, at least to a semblance of on his feet. He wobbled, and his grunted and spat out blood, but somehow, they managed to make their way across the room, toward the closest of the great cylinders.

  Sylene followed behind them, sobbing as quietly as she could. She had scooped up the device that Yarra had set down when she’d helped the captain up, and followed the others slowly, perhaps a meter behind.

  Andi felt like time was being stretched, that each small step took an hour, a day, a week. But finally, they reached their destination, and they gently set Lorillard down, leaning him up against the cool, silver metal of the cylinder.

  “Sure this…will…work…” He was haggard, his words soft, hoarse. The walk across the room seemed to have drained most of the energy he’d still had. He was staring out, looking at his friends, but it didn’t look to Andi like he was seeing them.

  Yarra took the device from Sylene, and she put it in Lorillard’s lap. He reached out, almost like a blind man feeling around for something. His hand found it, his fingers moving gently over it.

  Yarra took his hand and moved it gently toward a large switch.

  “Just…flip…switch?”

  The engineer sucked in a breath, struggling to clear the tears. “Flip it and then move your fingers and let it go. Flipping it sets the final arming. Releasing it and letting it snap back detonates.”

  Lorillard looked up, still appearing dazed…but something appeared on his lips, thin and barely comprehensible, but definitely there.

  A smile.

  “A dead…man…switch…appropriate…” His words were slurred a little, but they were still clear enough. Lorillard took another breath, and he clenched his face for an instant, fighting back against the pain. “Go…all of…you. Now…”

  He turned his head slightly, and for an instant, his eyes seemed clear again. “Please…go…escape. For me…”

  Yarra leaned down and put her arm around his neck, the closest she could come to a hug without hurting him. Sylene did the same right after. Neither one of them could force out any words, at least nothing intelligible through their sobbing.

  Andi froze for a second. She’d found her mother dead in the street. She’d found the Marine dying. She’d felt pain from both of those losses that still tore at her like a keen blade. But she’d never left a friend or loved one to die.

  She was a stone-cold killer in her own right, but it was taking all she had to keep herself from falling to pieces. She knelt down, and she leaned in toward Lorillard’s face. She kissed him on the cheek.

  “Get them…home…Andi…counting…on you…get my…people…home…”

  She nodded, unable to stop crying long enough to force out any more words.

  “Take…rifle…yours now…”

  And almost lost her composure. The captain’s rifle was a treasure in its own right, something almost impossible to obtain outside the military. She’d always been envious of the thing, wishing she had one of her own. Now, that all came back on her, a wave of guilt and sorrow that almost overwhelmed her.

  “Will hold…as long…as I…can…” A pause. “Message for you…on AI…when you…get back. Listen…as soon…as you…can…”

  Andi just nodded, sniffling hard as the years rolled down her face.

  “Now…go…go…”

  She stood up and pulled her eyes from the captain, exchanging glances with her two comrades. Then she turned around and walked across the room, Sylene and Yarra right behind her.

  She picked up the pace, speeding up to a moderate jog. She didn’t know how long Lorillard could last, but when he flipped that switch, she and the others had to be back in Nightrunner, and away from the station.

  Leaving the captain behind…to die…it was the hardest thing she’d ever had to do.

  But one thing would be worse, even more unthinkable.

  Failing his final request.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Free Trader Nightrunner

  Docked at Imperial Station

  Orbiting Zensoria, Osiron VI

  Year 301 AC

  Andi pulled herself though the docking tube and into the airlock. She turned and reached out, helping Yarra and then Sylene. Once they were all in, she poked at the controls, closing the outside door, and initiating the minor adjustment in air pressure.

  They were all exhausted. They’d run back, at least as far as they’d been able to. Sylene had been the weak link there, but she’d pushed herself to the edge, and they’d only slowed down after she’d collapsed to the deck in a panting heap, retching up a bit of foam from her otherwise empty stomach before she pulled herself together and pressed on.

  Andi had no idea how long they had to make good their escape. How long the captain could hold on. It was difficult, even, to think about it, about wondering how long her friend could last before he killed himself. She knew her tourniquet had bought some time, at least. Still, there was always the chance a Foudre Rouge or security bot would find Lorillard. If that happened before Nightrunner took off, they were all dead.

  Or, if Lorillard’s endurance gave out before they got the ship away from the station. They’d be just as dead that way. Worse, perhaps, if Lorillard was caught by surprise, or if he slipped into unconsciousness before he triggered the explosive, the Confederation itself would be in jeopardy.

  The door slid open, and she leapt inside, turning almost immediately and heading toward the bridge. The rest of the crew was in the room, and they leapt up, shouting out almost at once in a wild cacophony of questions.

  “What happened?”

  “Where is the captain?”

  “What do we do next?”

  She ignored them all. She didn’t have time to explain…and she didn’t think she had it in her to tell them about the captain. Not just then.

  She turned her head back. “Yarra…get down to the engine room. Make sure everything is prepped, and get ready for…for whatever we have to do.”

  Andi knew Nightrunner was still under the guns of one of the enemy ships. That was a disadvantageous position at best, and certain death at worst. But death couldn’t be any more certain than it would be if they stayed docked to the station until the bomb went off.

  She raced across the bridge toward her station, and she stopped by the captain’s chair. The idea of taking Lorillard’s seat, of acknowledging that she was, in fact, taking his place, even just for the escape attempt, hit her like a punch to the gut. But there was no time for emotion, for any weakness. And the captain’s station had more sophisticated piloting controls than hers.

  She plopped down in Lorillard’s chair, struggling not to think about it, as her hands moved over the workstation. In a few seconds, she had everything ready. Everything but power from the reactor.

  She reached down to activate the comm, but Yarra beat her to it. The engineer’s voice crackled out of the small speaker. “Everything’s a go down here, Andi…but the reactor’s on minimal output. It’ll take five minutes to power up, minimum, and they’ll probably be able to pick that up on their scanners, even through all the jamming.

  Shit…

  Andi looked around the bridge, as though searching for some magical control somewhere, some button or switch that would solve the problem. But there was nothing.

  Unless…

  “What about an emergency restart? Blast the thing up to full in a couple seconds.” Andi was no engineer. She wasn’t even sure an emergency restart was a real thing. But she knew that’s what they needed.

  “We could lose the reactor, Andi. It could blow and kill us all…”

  “We’re going to get blown up if we stay here anyway. And, we’re going to get shot down if we give the enemy time to react. Unless you have any better ideas, Yarra…do it.”

  The last two words had come out in a different tone, one of command. She hadn’t intended it that way, but then she heard Yarra’s sharp—and obedient—response.

  “Yes, Andi…give me half a minute.” No argument, no hesitation.

  She looked down at the controls, her fingers moving swiftly, revising the departure course. She wasn’t going to give the enemy any extra chances to take Nightrunner down, even if that meant pulling out of the docking collar like a drunken spacer. The vector she plotted was tight, but it should clear the appendage of the station that extended just to Nightrunner’s port side.

  She wished she had something better than should, but that’s the best her gut gave her.

  “Ready, Andi. You’ll either have full power in three or four seconds, or…” There was no need to finish the statement.

  “Okay, Yarra…on my mark.” She paused. “And, Yarra…as soon as we’ve got power, I need you to get the lasers online.” Andi would be just as content to make a straight line run to get the hell out of the system, but her instincts told her it was going to take some fighting to save Nightrunner and its people.

  Her people.

  She couldn’t fail the captain, couldn’t deny his final request. She wouldn’t fail.

  “Got it, Andi.” Yarra was holding it together, barely maybe, but still together. Andi couldn’t expect more.

  “Okay…go!” Even as she snapped out the command, her hands moved out to the controls. She took a deep breath and held it.

  She could feel vibrations beneath her feet as Nightrunner’s power plant went suddenly to full output. The engines roared as she fed the energy flow in, her other hand tapping the control to cut loose the docking tube. It was an expensive piece of equipment to just leave behind, but the last thing she had was time for was hauling it back in.

  She tried to hold her focus, keep her mind from the deadly danger. The enemy ship waiting to attack didn’t even register on that list yet, not as long as she knew that any second, Lorillard might trigger the station’s destruction—and Nightrunner’s along with it. That was concern number one, at least until Andi could get the ship away. Number two—though possibly a candidate for number one—was the worry the vessel’s reactor might react badly to the abuse Yarra was even then heaping on it. Nuclear reactors weren’t the safest things to push to their limits.

  The ship shook hard, and she fired the docking jets, pushing Nightrunner away from its mooring. The vessel shook once, hard, as it popped away from the station. Then, she reached out and grabbed the main throttle.

  You’ll know in a second if Yarra got the power up and running…

  She pulled back hard, and Nightrunner lurched wildly, a wave of g forces slamming into her as the thrusters blasted at full.

  Yarra had done it!

  That didn’t mean a catastrophic failure couldn’t still happen, but every second that passed reduced the chances. Even Andi’s non-engineer mind knew that.

  She stared down at the controls, suddenly feeling inexperienced, out of her depth. It was one thing to pilot the ship with the captain there, watching, looking over her. But now, she was alone.

  She jerked the nav controls hard, changing the thrust vector abruptly. Then she did it again, moving to yet another angle. She had to get away from the station, but she couldn’t be careless with her vectors. The ship was under the guns of one of the Union vessels, and an instant’s carelessness could forfeit all the gains of the sudden reactor restart. She was banking on the sudden full acceleration to buy the time to pull away before the enemy could fire. But it would be evasive maneuvers that kept Nightrunner alive as the surprise of her sudden move faded.

  The scanners were full of static, but she could see the hazy image of the Union ship, already responding to Nightrunner’s unexpected action. Nightrunner was already a hundred kilometers from the station and accelerating at full power. But the Union vessel was following, trying to match her wild maneuvers. It wouldn’t take long for the vessel to update its fire locks. A few seconds later, she saw streaks moving across the screen. She knew just what they were.