Starship Desolation (11 page)

S
lade sprinted across the cabin
, but Logan outpaced her by a foot. She was never going to reach the gun before he did. She dove, putting a shoulder into him. They both crashed to the deck. Logan rolled onto his back. Slade clutched her fists together, cuffed at the wrists, and pummeled him in the face.

She wound up and swung at him again. But he grabbed her wrists mid-punch and tossed her aside. Logan stretched for the weapon.

By the time Slade lunged back at him, she was staring at the barrel of his pistol.

Logan wiped away the blood that was dripping from his nostrils. The sleeve of his leather jacket was smeared with crimson. It was probably going to leave a stain.

“You’ve got some fight in you, I’ll give you that,” Logan said.

“You’re not going to shoot me,” Slade said, full of bravado. “You wouldn’t want to damage the merchandise.”

“Don’t push me.”

Slade grabbed the barrel of the gun, spinning it around 180 degrees. Logan’s finger caught in the trigger guard—if she twisted any farther, his finger would snap.

Logan grimaced. It was extremely painful. Slade had complete control. She stood up and stripped the weapon away.

Logan looked up at her in disbelief. She had disarmed him before he really knew what happened. Slade was good, and Logan had never met anyone like her.

“Give me the keys to the cuffs.”

“I don’t have them. Mia does. You have to wait till she comes back.” Logan smiled.

“Bullshit.”

Logan shrugged. “You’re not going to shoot me either.”

“Don’t be so sure about that. I’m a convict, remember.”

“You’re not a violent offender. I can see it in your eyes.”

BAM!

Slade fired into the deck beside Logan.

He twitched. “Okay, okay. Ease up.” Logan eyed the bullet hole in the deck and frowned. “This ship wasn’t cheap, you know.”

“The keys!”

“I don’t have any.”

Slade’s finger gripped the trigger.

Logan cringed.

Slade wasn’t backing down.

Logan sighed. “Okay, fine. They’re in my cabin.”

“Get up.”

Logan pulled himself off the deck. Their eyes were locked into each other.

“Move. Slowly.”

Logan stepped into the hallway. Slade cautiously followed behind.

“Where’d you learn how to fight?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Just making friendly conversation,” Logan said. “I get nervous when crazy women point guns at me.”

“Does that happen a lot?”

“It’s a hazard in my line of work.”

“Maybe you should get a new job.”

“I’ll start sending out resumes,” he snarked.

They reached his quarters, and Logan opened the hatch. His stateroom was pretty standard for this class of vehicle. A bunk, a desk, a small living area, and a kitchenette.

“Where are the keys?” Slade asked.

“In my desk drawer. Do you want to get them, or should I?”

“Move against the port bulkhead and put your hands against the wall.”

Logan reluctantly complied. Slade crept into the state room, keeping an eye on Logan as she inched toward the desk. She slid open the top drawer. A spare set of keys were there, along with another handgun.

Slade lowered her hands, cautiously. She kept the gun aimed at Logan as best she could with her hands cuffed together. She grasped the spare key with her left hand and unlatched the cuffs. Logan was still in position against the bulkhead.

“Turn around.” Slade tossed the cuffs to him. “Cuff yourself to the bunk.”

“So, you like it kinky?”

“In your dreams.”

Logan locked cuffs around one wrist, then strung it through the metal bunk frame and latched the other wrist. He wasn’t going anywhere, and he wasn’t happy about it. She could see him scheming for a way out of this.

“I have to thank you for getting me out of that prison. But I’ve got other plans. I’m going to have to borrow your ship.” Slade had a deliciously devious grin on her face. She backed out of his state room and sealed the hatch.

She raced to the cockpit and powered up the system. The control panel illuminated, and the onboard computer went through its preflight checks. Everything was in the green. All systems were go.

She powered up the main thrusters. Two, dual core, Hughes & Kessler Ramblers. They were some of the most powerful thrusters in their class. The Scarab was no slouch when it came to speed.

The engines whined as they reached full power. Slade took a moment to familiarize herself with the controls. She was about to hit the vertical thrusters and get the hell out of there when she felt the barrel of a pistol press against the back of her head.

She started to reach for her gun.

“Don’t even think about it,” Logan said. “And I
will
shoot you this time.”

“How did you get free?”

“I had an extra set of keys in my pocket. You should’ve frisked me. It could have been fun.”

Slade’s face tensed. She was frustrated with herself. She should have done a better job securing Logan, she thought. She had gotten careless.

“I’m going to be glad to get rid of you.” He forced her out of the pilot seat and cuffed her again. “Are you ready to meet Little Nicky?”

W
alker clung
to the rope as he marched through the blasting sandstorm. He had wrapped his head and was wearing goggles he borrowed from his new acquaintance. The wind picked up speed. With all his strength, Walker could barely inch forward.

A gust blew him off his feet and launched him 20 feet backwards. He clung on to the rope and pulled himself back to his feet. He made several attempts to make forward progress, but the storm was too powerful. It took every bit of strength just to pull himself along the rope, back to the dwelling.

This felt a lot like losing, and Walker hated to lose. He pulled off the goggles and his head wrap and took a seat. Even with the cloth wrap, he had inhaled dirt and sand. He spent a few minutes hacking the debris from his lungs.

“When the storm dies down, we’ll see if your friend is still alive,” the man said.

“I wouldn’t call him a friend. More of a necessary acquaintance.”

This peaked the man’s interest. His brow lifted, quizzically.

“He is a Saarkturian. And he’s the only way off this planet.”

The man’s face tensed and filled with rage.

“I take it you have no love for the Verge?” Walker asked.

“The Verge is how I came to be on this planet. Are we still at War?”

Walker’s curious eyes looked over the man. “The first Verge War ended 25 years ago.”

“My God,” he muttered. “Have I been here that long?” The man looked stunned. It took him a few moments to process the information.

Walker gave a slight nod.

“You said first Verge War… has there been another?”

“We are on the brink of the second now. They broke the treaty and sent an attack fleet. But we managed to stop the first wave.”

“We should have exterminated them. Saarkturians don’t honor treaties. And you’ve made a deal with one?”

“No choice,” Walker said.

Twenty-five years of rage was boiling up in the man. Things he hadn’t thought about in ages were coming to the surface. Walker could see the anguish in his face. The years lost on this planet. The life that he never got to live. All erased by his imprisonment on this arid rock in a forgotten sector of space.

“I’m Lieutenant Commander Kurt Walker, UP Navy, Special Warfare Group. This here is Gunnery Sergeant Bailey.”

Bailey barked.

The man smirked and softened a little. “You’re a Reaper, eh?”

Walker nodded.

“Lieutenant Gavin Slade. But after 25 years on this hell hole, they ought to promote me.”

Walker’s eyes widened. “Any relation to Captain Aria Slade?”

Gavin lifted his brow. “Captain, huh?” He seemed proud. “You know her?”

“We’ve met,” Walker stammered.

“She’s my wife. Well,
was
my wife. I suspect she’s moved on by now.” He frowned and hung his head. He gazed at his wedding band that he still wore. He fidgeted with it, rotating it around his finger with his thumb.

Walker wasn’t about to mention that he’d almost had a
thing
with her. “You were reported as KIA.”

“Understandable. For all intents and purposes, I am dead,” he muttered. “Has she remarried?”

“No.”

“How do you two know each other?”

“We… worked together on my last mission.” Walker quickly changed the subject. “Your son is a helluva fighter pilot, so I’m told.”

Gavin’s eyes lit up. “Son? I have a son?” His face was a mix of joy and regret. He had missed out on his son’s childhood.

“Cameron Thomas Slade. He’s an ensign in the UP Navy.”

“Well, I’ll be damned.” He smiled, full of pride.

Walker didn’t have the heart to tell him Cameron had been charged with treason. Though Walker was certain Cameron’s actions were a result of the Verge mind control technology.

“So, you say this Saarkturian has a ship?”

Walker caught Gavin up to speed on all the details. His eyes were wide, and his jaw was slack. He was astonished that Walker was still alive. “You mean to tell me that you crashed in the northern flats and made it out on foot alive?”

“Yeah.”

“You are one lucky son-of-a-bitch. Those flats are crawling with those fork-tailed devils. There are thousands of them buried out there under the sand. And you want to go back in there to retrieve a power cell?”

“It’s our only way off the planet.”

“No, thank you. I lost a platoon of men in those flats when we first crashed here. I’m not going back in there. I’ll stay in the canyon. It’s kept me alive this long.”

“I only ran into one of those things on my way out. Maybe there aren’t as many out there as you think.”

“Like I said, you got lucky. They’re buried in burrows. They pick up on vibrations in the ground. Walking through there is like ringing the dinner bell. You must have stepped in all the right places, or managed to catch them on a lazy day.”

“I’d rather take my chances in the flats than stay here for the rest of my life.”

That hit Gavin like a punch to the gut. He grimaced. Walker could see Gavin had resigned himself to the fact that he was never going to leave the planet.

“I’ve been here so long, I don’t know if I would even fit in back in
the world
. You’re the first person I’ve seen in 25 years. Hell, I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to hold a conversation after all this time.”

“One way, or another, I’m getting off this planet,” Walker said. “You’re welcome to come with me. Or you can stay here.”

“If you’re going to go back into the flatlands, you need to do it before the rainy season comes.”

“It rains on this planet?”

“For a few weeks out of the year, we get heavy rains. The monsoons are always preceded by the sandstorms. And we’ve had quite a few sandstorms in the last few weeks.”

“What happens during the rainy season?” Walker almost didn’t want to ask.

Gavin had a grim look in his eyes.

T
his time of year
, Europa city was cold and rainy. The slick streets reflected the colorful lights of the city. Automated cabs were lined up at the curb just outside the space port. Logan pushed Slade into a cab.

“Please state your destination,” said a soothing, automated voice.”

“
Teasers
on 25th Street,” Logan said.

“
Teasers
nightclub on 25th Street,” the voice repeated, “Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“That will be 75 credits, please.”

Logan placed his palm onto the scanner on the dash.

“Thank you. Transaction complete.”

In any other city, on any other planet, facial recognition cameras within the cab would have identified both Logan and Slade. The authorities would’ve been notified of the exact whereabouts of an escaped convict. Upon detecting Logan’s gun, the cab would have shut down, and reported him to law enforcement for outstanding warrants.

But all of those data tracking tools were outlawed on Vega Draconis. Even the payment portal was encrypted. Not only was mass surveillance data considered an invasion of privacy, lawmakers felt it would reduce tourism and stifle economic growth. The outlaw planet had quickly gotten a reputation as a wild and raucous destination early on. Tourism was the single biggest revenue generator on the planet. And nobody wanted to see that come to an end. You could get away for a weekend on Vega Draconis, and no one would ever know you had been there. Of course, that also made it a haven for the outlaws of the galaxy.

The cab hovered above the roadway and took off through the city. It twisted and turned through the streets, taking the shortest possible route, factoring in traffic. Within 15 minutes, they were standing curbside at
Teasers
.

Logan nodded at the bouncer and pushed in through the main doors. A thick wave of electronic dance music and heavy bass enveloped them. Slade could feel the beat in her stomach. She was still hungry.

It was a glitzy decadent nightclub that was a mix of dance club, strip joint, and brothel. Half naked girls of all species danced around poles on stage. There was a dance floor that pulsed in rhythm to the music, visualizing the sound waves on the floor. The club was thick with smoke, partially from cigarettes, partially from the fog machines. Colored swaths of light cut the air in dazzling displays. The DJ was spinning tunes and calling performers to stage in a cheesy announcer voice. “Jasmine, stage two. Jasmine, stage two.”

Europa City was the kind of place where you could march someone into a club in handcuffs with a gun poking into their ribs and no one would pay it any attention. Nobody wanted to get into the middle of someone else’s business. Especially not in
Teasers
. And hey, maybe handcuffs and guns were your thing?

Slade saw a group of Marines drinking and having a good time. Girls were clinging to them, trying to empty their wallets with lap dances.

Logan marched Slade to the main bar and called out to the bartender. “Little Nicky around?”

“In the VIP lounge.”

Logan dragged Slade to the back of the club. It was darker back there, and the music wasn’t as loud. A bouncer at a velvet rope put out his hand and stopped Logan.

“I got business with Little Nicky,” Logan said.

The bouncer was a thick, meathead of a guy. He had dark hair and a goatee, and wore a navy suit that was custom fitted. He was wearing way too much cologne. Inside his coat was a .45 holstered in a shoulder harness. It probably wasn’t the only gun he was packing.

He glanced back to a man who was wearing dark sunglasses, sitting on a sofa with two gorgeous girls. The girls were in various states of undress, sipping on champagne and taking turns snorting lines of white powder from the glass coffee table in front of them. It was an antiquated way of doing drugs. You could get the same result with a neural stimulator, but it lacked the tactile feel and experience. And real cocaine was a rare commodity these days. Synthetic knockoffs were popular and cheap, but you had to have
money
to have the real deal. No matter how far technology advanced, people still wanted their drugs, their booze, and their cigarettes.

The man motioned Logan forward. This was Little Nicky. He was an average sized guy, but his dad was Big Nick. And Big Nick was a big deal.
Teasers
may have been Little Nicky’s club, but it was bought and paid for with Big Nick’s money and connections.

The bouncer stepped aside and let Logan pass.

“Logan, you’re late,” Little Nicky said. “You were supposed to be here two days ago.”

“Shit happens.”

“I don’t like to be kept waiting. I have a business to run here. The merchandise needs to be kept fresh.”

“Business seems to be doing well,” Logan said, looking around. The place wasn’t packed, but it wasn’t bad for mid afternoon. Europa City was covered in perpetual darkness. One day blended into the next, and sometimes parties would go on for days. But still, there was a day and night ebb and flow. Around noon, the sky would reach its lightest, which looked like dusk on most planets. Real night was always busier.

Nicky stood up and strolled around to get a better look at Slade. She felt his sleazy eyes cling to every curve of her body. The vibe this man gave off was slimier than the pit back on Alpha Ceti 7.

“She’s a little old, don’t you think?”

Slade scowled at him.

“She’s experienced,” Logan said.

“Have you tested her out?”

“I don’t get high on my own supply.”

Nicky grinned. “Well, I might have to put her through her paces at some point.” He strolled around Slade, checking her out from all angles. “I’ll give you 35,000 credits for her.”

Logan’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

“That’s what the market will bear. Look around. My clients like nice, wholesome, college girls. You know, innocent girls that are here just making a little extra cash to put themselves through school. That’s the fantasy. They don’t want some old battle axe that looks like you just pulled her out of a maximum-security prison.”

Both Slade and Logan gritted their teeth.

“Nicky, are we looking at the same thing here? This woman is stunning. She might not be 20 anymore, but she still inspires all kinds of fantasies.”

“I can go 45,000 credits, tops.”

“I’m trying to run a business here. I’ve got transportation costs. I’ve got housing, food, clothing, incidentals. I got my crew. I’m losing money at 45,000.”

“Your lack of ability to keep production costs low is not my problem.”

“I’m not selling widgets here,” Logan said. “This business is nuanced and ever-changing. Supply is constantly in flux. But demand always remains.”

“She looks like she’s going to be a pain in the ass.”

“No, she’s very docile and compliant. She didn’t give me any trouble on the way over here.”

Nicky gave Logan a skeptical glance. He looked Slade over one more time. “Where are you from, sweetheart?”

“None of your goddamn business.”

Nicky backhanded her. The strike reopened her split lip. Blood trickled down, rolling over her chin.

“Hey, hey! You break, you buy,” Logan said.

Nicky got up in Slade’s face. He was a spoiled little brat that always got his way. “When I ask a question, you answer me. Is that clear?”

Slade spit blood in his face.

Logan’s eyes went wide. He couldn’t believe she had just done that. Nobody disrespects Little Nicky. It’s just not done.

Nicky was so pissed, he was shaking. He wiped the bloody saliva from his face, and flung it to the ground. He clenched his jaw, seething. Veins in his neck and face bulged.

Even Logan felt bad for what Little Nicky was going to do to Slade.