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  He took an unsteady breath and started walking.

  * * * *

  The Elector took up position in clear sight of Crick’s base while Meredith sat by the monitors. She had several of the security and comm teams help her haul the basic machinery and find an empty data port to plug into on the bridge. That way they could shut down security and turn off the life-support systems.

  Mellissa waited in sick bay with Elara and the medics, the transmission system turned on so that they could shut down most of the ship. Jemma lead the charge from the small, stolen Phobos craft.

  “Everyone is in position here, Captain. We await your signal.” Jemma checked in last. Raven had his team re-routing everything they could into the shields and thrusters. Life support in the non-essential areas had been disengaged.

  Chowd and his men had suited up, prowling the halls using their EVA suits. The bridge remained silent as Grayson brought the Elector into position.

  “Comms, initiate transmission sequence now,” Duvall said. The sound of his voice arguing with Chowd filled the air, just as they’d agreed, broadcasting for the universe to hear. “I am not going to let you leave. Dammit, Chowd, you gave your allegiance to the humans and the Empire.”

  “Duvall McCord, I never promised to do anything. I’m going back to my father. I will lead the rogues eventually. It’s my destiny.”

  The rapid pulse of Meredith’s heart echoed in her ears. Surely everyone else could hear it too? Now they were entering the final phase of their plan, her mind focused on the task before her. If the situation went exactly as planned, the ruse should flush Crick Sur Banden out. She winced, though, at the grade-school script. It was the best they could come up with between the preparations.

  “Transmission is now completed, Captain.” She waited for the reaction. How long until he took the bait? Hopefully Crick would act quickly.

  “Captain? We’re being hailed,” the young comm officer called out, and everyone turned to Duvall.

  “Patch the two of us in. No video though.” She held still, barely breathing.

  “So, my son is finally come home. Release him and I will spare you, Captain McCord.”

  Duvall raised a hand, and the empty life capsule ejected.

  “You are a fool if you think we would be taken in by an empty capsule!” The voice was slurred and angry.

  So far so good as Crick Sur Banden reacted as they expected. Her fingers curled into the palm of her hand, cutting into the flesh. She kept her eyes on the equipment before her.

  Crick launched a volley of missiles, but Chowd was right. There was indeed a dead space, one Crick was unaware of, and they detonated without making any contact.

  She silently thanked Chowd’s contacts on the planet for that little piece of intelligence before looking to the monitor ahead. The first of the ships they expected erupted from their hiding places. The two small combat craft they had kept by the Elector met them. More ships launched, and the fighting began.

  The two small craft dodged and wove, avoiding damage. One of the rogue ships strafed the front of the Elector, but the laser guns dealt with it quickly, a flare lighting the darkness before fizzling away.

  So far the Elector had only taken minimal damage. The channels started buzzing, and Meredith listened in to the sea of voices. Instructions to the ships filled the headset she had put on.

  “Duvall! I think he’s about to launch the whole damn lot!” Her stomach curdled as she called out.

  He whipped around. “Everything?” His eyes glittered in the red light.

  “Yeah, his own shuttle is being readied, and they’ve entered lockdown.” Her fingers tapped quickly on the screen. “I’m bringing up everything we know about it. Barsha!” She gulped but kept reading. “It’s supposed to have sub-atomic missiles,” she whispered.

  “Keep listening, Mer. We need to know everything.”

  “One of their attack ships has launched. They are bringing missiles online,” the comm officer called, and they braced for the wave of impact.

  With an audible bang, the Elector shuddered. Another missile made contact and the ship yawed again.

  “Firing!” one of the tactical officers called, and they cheered as the first ship disappeared in a cloud of light and parts spinning out into the inky blackness.

  “Another!” The incursions came thick and fast.

  The Elector used its thrust, moving quickly, looking to avoid the ground-to-space weapons. Every now and again, one exploded close by, the ship enduring another shuddering wave.

  The combat pilots now emerged from their hiding place, joining the firefight. Meredith could see the sparks and explosions on the screen, watching the dance of death play out before her eyes.

  “Shields are falling to thirty percent. Our stern is also down to fifteen.” Grayson’s voice was almost lost in the hubbub.

  “Is there any way you can increase it?” But even as her brother spoke, Grayson shook his head.

  Yet another missile hit, and she pitched to the floor, feeling the jar and aches before looking around, then grappled to pull herself upright. Duvall remained in his chair, face grim as he clutched the arms of his command seat. One of the lights flickered and went out, yet mechanics waiting on the bridge for such eventualities had already started working, scrambling to refit it to the ceiling.

  An ensign flung from his seat, one arm now hanging limp, whimpered, and with the limb obviously broken, he was transmitted to sick bay immediately. Someone else took his place, and they kept going. The scent of sweat and fried electrics filled the air, the noise horrific as everyone called out status updates.

  More than one member of the crew died, hit by debris, their bodies moved to the side of the bridge, and others took their seats. Conduits sparked while cords hung from the roof of the seriously damaged bridge. How can we possibly prevail? Looking around, she seriously doubted the Elector would survive.

  The thoughts assailed her, yet when she looked at her flickering console, she knew that for all the damage they had sustained, they’d made headway. That’s when she saw the blip of the tiny shuttle heading in their direction. “Duvall. The shuttle is closing on us.”

  He turned his grim face toward her. “Let him come.”

  Another crash, and the ship shuddered wildly. The klaxon stopped wailing now, and an eerie silence descended. This time the feeling in the doomed ship changed as screens flickered and died along with lights. Everyone on the bridge hushed, and all eyes turned to Grayson.

  “They’ve hit our steering and thruster units. Both are beyond repair. The damage to our matrix is also irreversible.” His words froze her stomach.

  “Sir, the damage to the stern is over all the decks. We have a section of hull plating missing on the cargo bay too.” The officer called out a litany of damage, and her fingers curled in reaction to the fear eating at her belly.

  “Raven?” Duvall’s voice was thin, and for the first time he leaned forward, his eyes closed.

  “The matrix is compromised. I’m giving the order to abandon engineering. But first I’m flooding the corridors with oxygen so everyone can get to the life pods.” Raven’s tired voice over the comm betrayed the battle he had fought and lost deep in the bowels of the ship.

  “Elara? What’s your report?”

  “I have a range of injuries here. Three fatal, five are critical and with no hope of recovery. Another five I can make partially mobile.”

  “Get as many of them as you can to life pods and strap them. Then get yourself and your people settled into others. I have a plan.” He turned away, his face graven in the green emergency lighting. “Jod, I need you to help Elara with her patients then leave with them.”

  “I would—” Jod’s voice filled the air, but Meredith could see the determination on her brother’s face. He had an idea.

  Duvall cut him off. “Go help her. She can’t do it alone, and they may need a male there for protection.”

  She saw the pain in Duvall’s expression. The
Elector had entered her death throes. That explained why Duvall wanted the patients in SurgiTech moved, but not what he planned to do.

  With slow movements, Duvall reached for the comm. “All crew, prepare to abandon ship.”

  They were dead in space, what more could they do?

  * * * *

  The Elector hung in space before Crick’s shuttle, lights flickering along its hull, and the gaping section of emptiness filled him with joy. His whole body ached, but finally his son was ready to return. Of course, that could be another ploy, but Crick Sur Banden no longer cared. The Elector lay within his grasp, and that meant Duvall McCord too. He would kill that creature yet.

  “My Lord? Our pilots have hit their steering and thruster units.”

  He smiled. “Good. Keep going. I want all shields gone. There must be no way they can escape. None at all.” His hand cramped once more. He finally accepted that his body was failing and that he would not survive, but he could make one last statement. If I have to die, I will take as many as I can with me.

  Dragging his body to the ship, he knew the pilot and crew had realized the extent of his infirmity and that their leader would soon be gone. Up until now, he’d managed to control the pain, allowing him to ignore the truth, but the Xeradax could do no more for him. Crick’s mind cleared as his organs started to shut down. The pain racked him, urging him to finish his task quickly, before it was too late. Time melted away, and he had to make preparations. Crick knew he had to name a successor soon.

  “My Lord? What would you have us do?”

  “Do? We will board the vessel. Kill Duvall McCord and take the women. Capture my son. Then blow the Elector out of existence.” He stopped. “Board her once all the shields are gone. I will come with you. I want to see the final seconds as Duvall McCord realizes he has lost and that I have won.”

  A spasm wound its way through his body. He gripped the nearest surface while his rogue watched. “My Lord, what can I do for you?”

  For a moment, a brief flash of something filled him. Something that felt warm. He brushed the thought aside. Now he could not spare any emotion, not even softness. “Nothing. Make sure the preparations are in hand. Go now.” He waved a hand.

  The mobility chair sat nearby, and he eased himself down into it. The leather squeaked as it moved to make room for his body. His wasted legs ached, and he rubbed them. He could feel the scarring on his flesh, now more evident than ever to his touch. His thin skin, stretching over bones and wasted sinews, offered no resistance. Over the years, what had remained of muscle had wasted away until only the scarring from the blast from the thrusters could be seen.

  His eyes closed. Failure wasn’t an option. Not now. All that remained now were the few rogues. Everyone else had either deserted him or died along the way. He felt no sense of loss at the many who died or those who continued to do so. They had served their purpose to give their all for him. The final burst of anger had resulted in the loss of the Phobos pirates, long before he’d planned to dispense with them.

  His refusal to accept their ultimatum had destroyed the fragile alliance that he had needed. But he couldn’t find the energy to regret it. No. They were little more than usurpers anyway. They’d used him as effectively as he’d used them.

  Crick began to drowse, and his body swayed. He caught himself as his head slipped forward toward his chest. In the last few days since the drug had failed, his medic, the only one to survive the murderous vengeance, had found a temporary alternative. With effort, he slipped a hand into his pocket, drawing out the Strontal powder tube. Mixed with a goblet of wine, it cleared his mind enough to continue the fight while giving his body a boost of adrenalin. He pulled the stopper from the small glass vial and emptied it into his wine. His body might fail, but he wouldn’t let his mind. Not yet.

  I have one last task to complete. One last vengeance to exact.

  “I want to board the Elector. Tell your fighter pilots to ensure she is both unarmed as well as unable to run or shield. Then assemble the men in preparation to board. The time has come to destroy those on the Elector.”

  He pushed out of the seat, watching the viewer on the wall. Yes, the Elector was his, and he felt a wave of joy. He would finally have his revenge. He might not see the downfall of the Earth Empire, but he would put the rogues into a position of power to finish the job.

  * * * *

  Duvall gave the order. “All crew, abandon ship. Self-destruct sequence alpha.” Chowd closed his eyes. “Chowd, get to the bridge.”

  Chowd turned, the vacuum slowly receding as they pumped oxygen through the halls. The lights in the corridor now alternated between bright white and red, and he saw the members of the crew clambering into the tubes, heard the hiss as they opened and the crunch as they locked down, each pod big enough for one person only. Thankfully, they had more than enough.

  Each capsule carried enough oxygen for three days under normal circumstances or could sustain life in a hibernatory fashion for up to three weeks. Long enough for the beacons they’d fitted over the last few days to send a distress signal. It would allow for the person on board to be retrieved. Duvall had not yet given the order for the pods to eject, and Chowd frowned.

  He searched for Meredith, but he couldn’t see her. His heart beat fast even though he knew her brother never endanger her. Would he?

  He reached the bridge. Meredith sat hunched over a console, and for a moment his heart felt frozen, but she moved and the cold sensation fizzled away. She worked fast, fingers flying over the keypad as she shut down systems, scrambling what she couldn’t copy.

  “Meredith?”

  She didn’t turn around though, just waved to acknowledge that she’d heard him. Duvall stood behind her, and she sucked in a deep breath. “What? What’s going on?”

  On the bridge there now remained just four. Duvall, Meredith, Grayson, and himself.

  Duvall’s gaze was steady. “We think we can lure him. There’s a secure zone in the security section. We’re going to lead him there, unless we can take him out beforehand. It’s closer to the only hatch he can use to board, so it should be easy enough.”

  Chowd thought over the plan. He didn’t like it, but it was as good as any. “Okay, who’s going to be the lure?”

  Duvall smiled, and Chowd’s stomach soured.

  “We know he’ll come for Duvall,” Meredith explained. “But I have an idea. The self-actualized holograms? We’re going to relay it through the ship. So what he sees and thinks is Duvall really isn’t. He and I are going to wait inside the secure zone.”

  Chowd’s heart stopped at her words. “No. You’re going to get off the Elector—”

  Meredith waved a hand, stopping him. “Someone has to close the doors and set the sequences to lock and make sure he can’t trip any overrides. I can do it faster and more efficiently than any of you. You and Grayson need to keep the zone clear so I can do my part.” Meredith lifted her head as she finished talking.

  My Meredith will be in the secure zone? The final line of defense? No way!

  He opened his mouth to protest again, and Duvall shook his head. “No. She’s the only one of us who can change any of the programming at that level and with any speed. We’ve enabled the silent self-destruct sequence. We only have about eighteen minutes, so every second counts.” He turned back to Meredith. “Done?”

  She pushed the console to one side and grabbed a tiny handscreen. She tapped a command in and bit her lip. “Come on. Just one more.” Her fingers completed a final sequence of tapping, a frown on her face. “Yeah, let’s finish this now.” She flipped the lid shut and slid the unit into her pocket.

  She made to stand, and Chowd grabbed her, pulling her close, his eyes closing as he inhaled. His fears crested. What if they never... He needed to tell her one last time, in case they never had the opportunity again. “Stay safe, because...I love you.” Then he opened his eyes and looked at her.

  “I love you too.” She touched his face, swiping a finger ove
r the moisture beneath his eyes. “See you on the other side.” Meredith drew back, winked, and she slapped a small personal communicator on his arm. “So I can hear you.”

  He noted the others wore similar devices as well before taking a last glance at her as she scurried behind Duvall and out of sight.

  “Right, ready now?” Grayson looked at him, the amusement in his eyes strained.

  “Yeah, let’s get out of here.” Chowd didn’t look back at the bridge as they left, just gave the lockdown command, and the doors jammed shut behind him.

  “Why did you do that?” Grayson asked as they moved quickly.

  “We need to channel them to the security zone and ensure there is nowhere else for them to go. I’m about to lock down the cabins and mess as well as SurgiTech.”

  He gave a moment’s thought to those critically injured who remained on board. They could do nothing more for them, he knew, but it still felt wrong. Yet this was war, and they had no safe way to move them to another vessel. He, too, had seen the failing life support systems, the dropping oxygen levels, and with the matrix compromised, they couldn’t salvage the Elector.

  “When will you give the order for the pods?” Chowd asked.

  “As soon as we have Crick on board,” Grayson muttered as they moved swiftly.

  Once they had finished locking down the ship as much as they could, they moved into position behind the security offices. The small alcoves now doubled as hiding spots for those left on the Elector as the boarding party tackled the airlock.

  “Pods away.” Grayson hissed the command into the communicator, and the sound of the disengaging pods filled the air.

  Chowd hoped that Crick only had a small landing party and watched with barely controlled breaths as the hatch flew open. The rogues entered stealthily, guns ready, moving side to side as they scanned for any danger. Crick himself moved with them, leaning heavily on a mobility stick. For the first time in many years, Chowd saw Crick Sur Banden, wizened and doubled over, moving slowly as if each step pained him. The holographic vision of Duvall disappeared around a corner while Crick watched, his face scrunched as if the pain was about to overcome him.