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Chapter 10

Van Gar patched the communication through with a trembling hand. It could be very bad news. Last time he had talked to Hepron Station they still had no news about Drew. His fear turned to adulation when Drew's face appeared on the screen.

"Drewcila! You're alive!" he said stating the obvious.

She smiled."Really? Do you think the others know?" She frowned then, seeming to remember how and why they had parted. Her eyes narrowed to slits as she hissed."Do you have my ship?"

"Yes, yes I do. It's so good to see you . . ."

"Is that my ship you're flying?"

Van Gar swallowed hard."Yes."

"What the fuck did you do to it? Looks like a Hepelon drag queen threw up in there."

"It's a long story . . . It runs fine, no worse for the wear. This can all be fixed, a little paint, a little wall paper." He laughed nervously then added."I'm on my way to Hepron Station, I figured with everything that's going on you could use my help . . ."

"We don't need him here," a familiar voice hissed out.

"Arcadia!" Van Gar answered in a voice dripping with acid.

"Van Gar," she said in an equally disgusted tone.

"Knock it off!" Drew ordered."So . . . what happened with the religious cult? God and goodness and shit not all it's cracked up to be or what?"

Apparently Drewcila was not yet ready to let bygones be bygones, and he wasn't ready to tell her the whole truth. He lowered his voice to a whisper."Drewcila . . . I can't talk about it right now, but I have run the scam of scams, and if you help me out, I'll help you out and split the profit with you seventy-thirty."

"Seventy for me, right?"

"No. Damn it, Drew! Seventy for me, thirty for you."

"Sixty-forty."

"Sixty for me?" Van asked carefully.

"Oh, I guess so," Drew said reluctantly. She smiled."How fast can you be here?"

"Twelve hours tops." He swallowed a little more of his pride."I shouldn't have left. I've missed you, Drewcila."

It looked like she was about to apologize to him, or at the very least tell him she'd missed him, but no such luck."No, you sure as fuck shouldn't have left me, and stealing one of my ships . . . well, that was totally uncalled for!" Drew snapped back and closed the transmission.

Van Gar sighed and relaxed into his chair.

"She's a very beautiful creature," Shreta said behind him, making him jump."I can see why you love her."

Van Gar laughed."Well, I'm glad someone can. Right now I have half a mind to turn this tin can around and go anywhere else in the galaxy."

"But you won't." She walked around to face him."I can see it in your eyes when you talk to her, and I could see it in her eyes when she looked at you." She sighed longingly."No male will ever look at me that way."

"Don't say that, Shreta. You're a nice girl. You have a great personality. Someday some man will . . ." Van Gar looked at her, and the words died on his lips to be replaced by: "They make some really great sex aids. I've heard they're just like the real thing."

 

"We don't need him here," Arcadia said with a pout.

"Don't start that shit, Arcadia. I want him here," Drew said."No one's hanging a 'property of' sign on my ass. Not him, and not you."

Arcadia nodded silently."I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Just don't do it," Drewcila said."You know how I feel about him."

"Yes . . . What I don't know is how you feel about me."

Drew smiled at her."Yes, you do."

 

President Ralling sat in his office with his chief advisors, thinking how unfortunate it was that the vice-president had decided to attend this meeting. This seemed like about the twelfth strategy discussion they'd had that day, and he wasn't really a strategy kind of guy. He was more a sitting-on-his-ass-reveling-in-the-power-and-passing-stupid-assed-laws-that-only-he-gave-a-crap-about sort of guy.

The vice-president was yelling that they needed to try and negotiate a truce, while all the war-mongering military heads were calling for a blood bath. He was inclined to agree with the military guys, just because they sounded like they knew what they were talking about, and because he hated that idiot Trailings. He was about to tell them all to shut up because he was tired of listening to them, when his aide walked in, bowed then straightened.

"Mr. President . . . The Barion Queen is on line one."

There was a sudden hush in which they all just stared at each other. Finally Trailings said, "We'd better listen to what she has to say."

Ralling nodded and hit the button on his video phone. There she sat, the reigning Barion Queen, flanked by some strange reptilian alien and their country's High Chancellor, Facto.

She was examining her nails, and took several moments to make eye contact. Her way, he supposed, of showing utter contempt for them.

When she spoke she said simply, "Fellows, we've got us a little problem."

"What we've got is a war," Ralling said hotly.

"Hey . . . you started it."

"We asked for trade agreements, and you tossed them in our face," Trailings said.

"Now see, that's the shit right there. Our country . . . Well, we've had a wee little problem with our upper class. It was our—mine and my dear departed husband's—every intention to sign trade agreements with you. Unfortunately, we weren't aware that the nobles were attempting a coup until it was too late. We will shortly have things back under control . . ."

"You attacked one of our battle cruisers . . ." Ralling started.

"Hey, don't interrupt me, rat fucker. Your cowardly battle cruiser attacked me, and your bullshit about me being in a frigate fully loaded with weapons and all that crap is just that, bullshit. I was in one of my friggin' salvaging vessels, an imperial class salvaging barge, but a barge all the same. Your people fired on me. I defended my ship and my crew. If your people hadn't been damned inept, and if I wasn't the best fighter pilot in this galaxy—ah, screw the humble crap—the fucking universe, I'd be in pieces in the Galdart Desert instead of them. As it was, I had to crash land in a lake, which was really messy."

She obviously wasn't intimidated by his lofty position, but then why should she be? He was only a president who had lots of people to answer to; she was queen, the king was dead, and as such she had no one to answer to for her actions. As soon as this whole war thing was over, he was going to see if he couldn't get them to make him king.

"How dare you speak to me in this manner!" he said, thinking of nothing else to say.

"Ah, let's cut through the crap. We don't want a war. If you will call off your war, we will sign treaties and trade agreements with you. We will even send advisors to teach your people how to set up for recycling . . ."

"Why should we make deals with you?" General Tryte said."You attacked our capital. Tens of thousands were killed . . ."

"I didn't do shit. I told you already that was the nobles. I'm back in command now, and I have the power to call off the attacks . . ."

"We are militarily superior to you . . ."

The queen laughed loudly at Tryte's suggestion."How do you figure that? Our economy has been thriving. We're taking in billions in tax revenue monthly. What do you think we have been doing with all that money? Maybe shoving it up our asses?"

"We've done many reconnaissance missions, and we know that you have scrapped out much of your weaponry. We know that we are militarily superior, and that there is no way that you can win a long term war against us."

"Apparently more money buys better spies as well, because the way we understand it, we are by far militarily superior to you. If you insist on continuing this idiocy, we will stomp your butt into oblivion." She never even blinked.

"Thousands of our people are dead . . . they must be avenged. We will not back down. We know your reputation well, and know that you lie as easily as most people tell the truth," Tryte said.

"Ah, now that hurts," she said in mock agony. Then she glared back at them, no hint of fear in her cold blue eyes."This is one bluff you don't want to call. No one shall win in a battle between our two countries, and many shall lose. You more than us, but I prefer to stop the death now and get on with the business of commerce."

Tryte bent down and whispered in Ralling's ear."I know it looks like we are losing so far . . . but I swear to you that there is no way that we can lose this war. When we win, then all that they have will be ours. Why should we share when we can have it all?"

Ralling nodded and glared back at the Barion queen."There will be no truce. We cannot and will not let our dead go unavenged. We will totally smite you, and to the victor go the spoils."

Trailings bent down and whispered in his ear."Don't do this. It's in our best interest to make a truce, to go for the trade agreements. There is no way of knowing whether we are militarily superior or not. She's right on at least one count: in this war no one will win."

Trailings' objections more or less sealed the deal for him. He looked at the queen again and addressed the smug look on her face."In my country we care about more than just profit. We are a proud people, and when we are victorious, we shall no longer walk cowed, but will hold our heads up high . . ."

"Yeah, whatever. Don't say I didn't warn you." She closed the transmission, and he was looking at a blank screen.

"What the hell have you done to us?" Trailings asked, literally tugging at his hair.

"I have insured that the future of our country is one of wealth and prosperity instead of poverty and despair." Ralling glared at Tryte, and said with meaning, "Isn't that right, Tryte?"

Tryte nodded emphatically.

"So what now, military idiots?" Trailings demanded.

"We attack. We attack hard and fast while they're still dealing with their internal problems. We make a giant hole in their landscape and even the score," Tryte answered."We hit Hepron Station as we planned to, only with even more fire power."

 

"Well?" Facto asked. Dylan had taken over the job of babysitting the queen's sister, and he was once again doing his actual job, head Councilor to the Monarch.

"Well what?" Drew asked, taking a drink from the beer bottle she held in her hand.

"Are they militarily superior to us?"

"You're head councilor. You know this shit. What do you think?" Drew asked hotly.

"That while we've turned much of our weapons of mass destruction into scrap and sold it, and turned many of our munitions plants into recycling venues, they have continued to build their war machine . . ."

Drew took over from him, probably just to prove that she was up on what was going on."However, the weapons we have replaced some of those with are bigger and better. Our military manpower is as large and far better trained. We would win the war, but it would be a long and bitter uphill battle, and an economic nightmare. Many of our people would be killed, both military and civilian. Not at all a very profitable endeavor. Well, send in the news guys, and let's get this over with."

Facto nodded and left.

"So what we going to do?" Arcadia asked when he was gone.

"I'm going to give a very good 'Let's go kick their asses speech,' and then you and Dylan and I are going to empty out the safe and get the hell off this rock. We'll meet Van Gar in space and find another location for our salvaging operation, and then we'll evacuate all our people from this planet," Drewcila said.

Arcadia looked a little shocked."You'd really do that? Leave these people without leadership? Take away their livelihoods?"

"Hey . . . they're fuckin' up my business!"

 

"Give me ten more," the queen addressed them from behind her desk. She was on a comlink, so they could only hear her side of the conversation."I just saw the report where ol Atario first admitted to killing Zarco and then bought the big one. I am now sole ruler of Barious. As such, you are now under my command, General . . . I tried, the Lockhedes will not back off . . . First, I want you to launch an attack on the nobles in the castle. Shoot to kill. I want every last one of them out of the castle, my staff returned to their posts there, and a mint on my pillow by sunrise tomorrow morning. Second, I want you to put the military on the highest possible alert, with double man power around the capital and all the spaceports and major recycling centers. The real bone of contention for the Lockhedes is that we live so much better than they do, so they're going to target our economic areas . . . I'm glad to be back, too. Now go kill some nobles and make me proud."

She hung up the phone and put a cigar in her mouth. Arcadia almost tripped over her tail to light it. The queen took a long drag on it and let it out, making smoke rings as she did so."You there," she pointed at one of the grips who then pointed at himself and said: "Me?"

"Yeah, you. You're sitting on my ice chest."

He jumped up like his butt was on fire."A million pardons, my Queen."

The queen smiled broadly."It's all right if you sit on my ice chest, I was just wondering if you'd bring me a beer. My throat gets awful dry when I'm smoking and giving a 'Here's how we save the planet' speech." The man opened the chest, reached in and pulled out a beer. He brought it carefully to the queen and handed it to her."Thanks . . . Arcadia?" she asked holding up the beer.

"No thanks," Arcadia told the man, who then sat upon the ice chest as if it were a great honor.

Drew popped the cap off the beer on the corner of her desk and then took a long drink before she looked up at Dartan."All right, let's get this trash out of the can."

Dartan nodded and said, "Going live in five, four, three, two . . ."

"Are we on now?" Drew asked. To which Dartan nodded anxiously."All righty then. Here's the shit, gang. Zarco and I wanted to sign trade agreements with the Lockhedes. This would have helped to stabilize their economy, made us a shit load of money, and brought us a lasting peace. The nobles—what a bunch of bastards—am I right? Well, of course I am, being right is what being queen is all about. Anyway, these rich fucks, they forced Zarco to give some speech about how he wanted us to go to war, and a bunch of other flowery crap about returning the glory of our country, yada yada yada. Well, I knew that was shit, so I came back here, and, well, you more or less know what went down, since that rat Atario just confessed on the other network . . . Sorry about that one, Dartan."

Dartan smiled and shrugged.

Drewcila continued."Our troops even now are moving to attack the nobles still hold up in the castle, and the governor general has assured me that they will all be dead by morning. Our real problem is that they have already started this war with the Lockhedes. I personally shot down the Artvail, and I hope the people of Lockhede can hear and see this, because they are being fed the same sort of misinformation that you were. They are being told that our vessel fired on their battle cruiser. My people, this was not the case. I mean . . . do I look fucking stupid? It was a battle cruiser—the biggest in their fleet. I'm flying in one of my salvaging ships with minimal armaments. They fired on us, and it's only by luck that I was able to avoid being shot out of the sky and save myself and my crew. It was never my intention to bring down their ship, merely to defend my own. It was a freak accident that their ship went down the way it did. My own ship had to crash land. So why on Barious would I have attacked that big battle cruiser? No, they attacked me. They attacked me because they were big, and they didn't know who they were messing with." She paused a moment for effect, then continued.

"I called the leaders of Lockhede and tried to offer them a peace agreement and the trade agreement they originally asked for. They wanted none of it. The Lockhede people are not our enemies, it's only their leaders. Leaders that, like our own nobles have done to us, force their people to do things they know are wrong. Still . . . like it or not, we are going to have to pull out the big guns and start kicking some Lockhede butt. They don't really understand what they are up against. They fight us because they have nothing to lose. Their country is a poverty stricken cesspool, and their people are starving.

"We on the other hand, have a standard of living worth fighting for. We aren't the mollycoddled pampered pussies they seem to think we are. We took out the largest of their battle cruisers and decimated their capital, and we weren't even really trying. Imagine the devastation when we actually go after them! If they so much as fart in our direction, we will be going after them with everything we've got, and we won't stop till they either surrender or Lockhede is nothing but a smoking hole. I will be moving from one location to another in order to keep the Lockhedes from attempting to kidnap me as they have done in the past, or kill me as the nobles tried to do. You may not see or hear from me for weeks at a time. But do not lose heart. Just because you can't see me, doesn't mean I'm not here. Good night."

"My Queen, there are questions about the current state of our military. Can we really trust them? Are they on our side, or are they working for the nobles?" Dartan asked.

"Our military took orders from the head of the country. Not an easy thing to do when no one's really sure who's running things. They will take my orders, they will do what's best for the country. They are not now, and never were, part of the coup attempt."

"Are you afraid for your own life?"

"We are at war, people. Every man, woman, and child should be in fear for their life tonight. This isn't a game. They have weapons of mass destruction, but so do we. The sooner we can talk some sense into their stupid leaders' heads, the better it will be for everyone," Drewcila said.

"What arrangements will be made concerning the king's burial? Will there be a national service? A quiet family one?"

"A dead body is a dead body. The king's problems are over. We are at war, and I hardly think it's a good idea to bring myself and large numbers of our statesmen and the heads of our military together for such a thing. Might as well pull our pants down and paint bullseyes on our butts. A service will be held when and where we think it's appropriate. No prior knowledge will be given out. It will be small. The people should grieve in their own ways, maybe light a candle."

"My Queen . . ."

"I'm sorry, Dartan, but I have places to go and things to do." She stood up and started out of the room with Arcadia and Facto following behind her. She stopped at the doorway and turned to look at them as a group."Ah, nothing personal, but you guys need to get out of my office. You know . . . I'm leaving, you should leave."

Dartan nodded."It will take us a minute."

"Lock up when you go."

 

Drew stopped the disk and turned towards her sister."See, you see, now I think someone owes someone else a little thing called an apology."

"Zarco's still dead, Drewcila. No, you didn't actually kill him, but you wanted him dead. If you had brought him with us, he might still be alive. You heard what Atario said, if you were dead he wouldn't have killed Zarco." Stasha, who had stopped crying, started all over again.

"Screw you then. I give up. There's no pleasing you. You'd rather I was dead than Zarco? What a hateful thing to say. Why, if they were talking to me—and if they didn't love you better—I'd call our mother and father and tell on you," Drew said nodding her head. She was trying to sound flip, and hoped she had succeeded, because it was in fact bugging the living shit out of her that Stasha was so mad at her, that she had said she hated her. To add to her problems, Van Gar had been very suspicious when she had asked him to stay in orbit instead of landing, and Arcadia was trying so hard not to look like she was pouting that it was obvious to everyone that she was. Although she hadn't told Facto her plans, it was obvious that he'd figured out from her speech that she was planning to bolt, and he just kept giving her this 'very disappointed' look, which seemed to have the ability to make her want to confess to crimes she hadn't even committed.

Everyone seemed to be hell-bent on judging her for something, and the truth was that she really didn't understand why. Maybe when they were taking out the part of her brain that held her previous memories, they had also removed the part that was able to comprehend why everyone she had any personal relationship with immediately became completely and totally unreasonable.

She found that their obvious disapproval, anger, and indignation was making it incredibly difficult to be wantonly selfish and self-serving, which was putting her completely off her game. She had this strange, unusual urge to somehow try to please them all, and that just wasn't like her at all.

It must be some residual effect of the poison.

An uncomfortable silence had fallen over the room. Everyone seemed to be looking at her, as if waiting for her to rationalize and make excuses for her actions, both in recent and ancient history. Except she didn't think anything she had done was really wrong, and even if it was she certainly didn't care . . . except that it was driving her crazy that they were all varying degrees of pissed off at her. She glared around the room at them for several minutes, daring one of them to say . . . well, anything at all. Nobody said anything. They just stood there, silently bombarding her psyche with varying degrees of displeasure till she could stand it no longer.

"Screw all of you!" She threw up her hands and stormed out of the room. Arcadia and Dylan followed her out and ran to catch up with her as she stomped down the hall. She stopped suddenly and turned on them, causing them to crash into each other."You can only come with me if you think you can quit judging me."

"Judging you? Shit, Drew! What the fuck are you talking about? I ain't judging you," Dylan said in a confused tone. She glared at him as if trying to read his mind, then she swung on Arcadia."But you are . . . !"

"I think maybe you're judging yourself, Drew," Arcadia said calmly.

Drew spun back around and started back down the hall with purpose."What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Why would I judge myself? I'm not doing anything wrong. This operation has become unprofitable. At any moment we could be bombarded. I'm leaving, and I'm taking my money with me. There's nothing bad or evil about it. It just makes good plain sense."

"I didn't say it didn't. I also didn't say that I was the one with morals and ethics. I implied that perhaps you were," Arcadia said, a hint of laughter in her voice.

Drew stopped and spun on her abruptly. She stood nose to nose with Arcadia, and punched Arcadia's shoulder with her forefinger."You wash your filthy mouth out this minute."

"Sorry," Arcadia said with a smile and a shrug.

"Come on, let's get this show on the road," Drew said spinning back around and walking faster this time.

"If you say so," Arcadia said.

"Damn it, Arcadia! Quit doing that," Drew said over her shoulder."I don't care. I don't care about my stupid sister or the stinking country. All I care about is my money and my empire, and I'm not going to let these idiots ruin all that I have worked and grifted to get."

"I know that."

"I said, knock it off!"

"All right, I will."

"If you keep it up, I'm going to leave you here."

"If you have to."

"Dylan, smack the shit out of her," Drew ordered hotly.

"No, she'll hurt me bad. I don't know what the hell you're actually even fighting about, so leave me the hell out of it," Dylan said.

Drew ignored them both. She knew what she had to do. If her sister knew her "secret" vault was at Hepron Station, so did other heads of state. If other heads of state knew, it was a sure bet that the Lockhedes knew. And if they knew, they'd figure out she was here, and they'd aim every bomb they had at them. She and her money weren't going to be here when that happened. None of this was her fault. She hadn't caused any of this shit, why should she have to suffer for it?

Putting the vault in her chambers would have been too obvious. The vault was hidden under a sliding panel in the farthest of the six loading bays of the station.

She ordered the area cleared, and by the time they got there they were alone. She opened the secret panel and punched in a code. The floor opened, and when they had walked through, it closed behind them. Six doors and six codes later they were standing outside the main vault.

"How does it open?" Arcadia asked, seeing no recognizable panel.

"Ah! Now you see, people, that's the beauty of it." She found the secret panel, flipped it open, and punched some buttons on it, which caused a long thin panel with thousands of points of light to pop out."A retinal scan can be very easily duplicated, finger prints are the same way, and voice activation is a joke. But did you know that each tongue has its own unique signature?"

"I knew yours did," Arcadia answered with a smile.

Drew smiled back, then continued to explain."You can get a cold in your eye. A scar can screw up your fingerprints, but what the hell could happen to your tongue?" She stuck her tongue on the pad, and nothing happened.

"Oh, I don't know, Drew," Dylan said angrily."Some idiot drunk could let some alien whore paint God only knows what on it."

"This can't fucking be happening!" Drew tried it again and again and again, until her tongue was completely dry, and still nothing happened. Then she went completely ballistic. She started kicking the vault door and screaming, "You stupid worthless forty-hundred-thousand iggy piece of crap! Give me my fucking money! You hear me? I said give me my fucking money!"

Arcadia turned to Dylan as they both ignored Drew's rampage."Look on the bright side, now you can continue to try to bed Stasha."

"Oh, I am sooo over her. I tried to help console her after she heard about Zarco's death, and she called me a perverted pig. Hell, I might be perverted, but I ain't no pig."

"How were you trying to console her?" Arcadia asked with a knowing smile.

"I dove between her legs."

"Hell, that always works with Drew."

"Do you think you two assholes could stop with your little tête-à-tête and come help me?" Drew yelled.

Arcadia and Dylan looked at each other, shrugged, then walked over and started kicking the safe and cussing.

Drewcila was less than amused.

 

"I'm not leaving without my money, Van Gar!" Drew screamed at his picture on the viewing screen.

"Any idea when that crap on your tongue is supposed to go away?"

"None at all, but I'm pretty sure it's fading."

"Well, I hope the shit at least did what they promised it would," Van Gar laughed.

"It's not fucking funny, Van, and for the record, no. Not as far as I could tell. What a fucking mess!"

"New game plan?"

"Yeah, meet us in Capital. We'll be leaving here within the hour and taking up residence in the castle. After all, that's the last place those Lockhede bastards will think to look for me. I've got to find a way to win this fucking war. Quick."

"Tell the truth, Drewcila, you're sort of glad you have to stay there and save the country," Van Gar needled.

"I wish everyone would just get off my back!" Drewcila spat back angrily.

"So you're alone now. No one to show off for. Did you miss me at all?"

"When did I have time?"

"Ah, come on, Drew . . ."

"All right! Damn! What the hell is happening to me? Yes! Yes, I fucking missed you."

"And do you love me, Drew?"

"You're pushing your luck, Van Gar." She closed the transmission.

Van Gar looked at the blank screen and smiled.

"So?" Shreta asked from behind him.

For answer he addressed the com."All hands, prepare for entry. We're going planet side. We will be landing in the Barion capital port Ionan."

 

Drewcila moved quickly now. Her ship was fueled and ready to go. A short planet hop was a simple maneuver, and she'd be piloting.

Stasha pitched a bitch and said she was not going back to the castle with Drew, so Drew had her sedated. Stasha, Margot, and Facto were already on the Garbage Scow. Drew left final orders for the station, grabbed her computer, and she, Arcadia, Dylan and Jurak followed Dartan and the news team, who were filming their departure.

Arcadia stopped suddenly and grabbed Drew's arm."I hear something."

"Everyone stop!" Drew ordered.

Arcadia's head swung around and up to their right. As they followed her movements, everyone saw the missile coming through the clear domed ceiling above them.

They ran, scattering in different directions. Drewcila, Arcadia and Dylan dove behind a huge rock planter as the missile hit. The dome held against the impact, but blew into a million pieces with the explosion.

Drew covered her head to protect it from the debris that rained down on top of them. She yelled into her comlink."We are under attack! Repeat. The station is under attack! Man all battle stations! Stomp these fuckers' asses!"

She pulled her side arm, although she wasn't sure what she thought she was going to do with it. This was an air strike, so there was really nothing to shoot at. Still, how could you feel battle ready if you weren't armed? Arcadia and Dylan must have felt the same way, because they had both pulled their weapons as well.

She could hear the sounds of the station's defenses as the anti-aircraft guns started firing steadily.

"They must have sent everything they had," Drew said.

Arcadia nodded.

Drew looked around at the devastation, looking for a safe passage way to get them to her ship, and saw Jurak lying amidst the rubble. She ran up to him with Arcadia and Dylan following behind her. They grabbed him and pulled him into a more protected area. He didn't look good. In fact, it looked as if his chest had been flattened. He didn't seem to be in any real pain, which was of course the worse sign of all.

"Hey, Jurak, what were you trying to do? Catch that thing?" Drewcila asked, moving a bloody strand of hair away from his face.

"I'm dying."

"No, no, you're not, Jurak. You're a little squished, that's all. Here," she reached in her pocket, pulled out the hat, and stuck it on his head."There. Now that ought to do it."

"Not this time." The life left his eyes, and his body went into spasms. Drew tried to hold him still. When he stopped jerking, she was still holding him.

"Drew," Arcadia said putting a hand on her shoulder."He's gone. We have to get out of here."

Drew nodded, let go of Jurak and stood up."Now I'm pissed off! This way. Let's go!" She took off running through, around, and over the debris. Arcadia and Dylan followed with Dartan and the news crew not far behind them.

"Incoming!" Arcadia yelled, and again they scattered and hit the floor. This time the devastation was immediate since the dome was already broken. As soon as the dust began to clear, Drewcila screamed.

"Move! Move!"

"Drew, I don't see Dylan."

A quick search found him lying unconscious with his right leg stuck under a large piece of fallen ceiling. The whole place looked like it could come down with one more direct hit.

"Dylan, can you hear me, man?" Drew asked.

There was a muttering sound that echoed from his lips.

"What did he say?" Arcadia asked at her shoulder.

"Sounded like, go on, leave me here, save ourselves." Drew started to leave, and Arcadia grabbed her arm and shook her head no.

Drew sighed, and she and Arcadia put their shoulders to the chunk of rubble."Hey, you think some of you stupid media fucks could stop filming long enough to help us out here?" Drew ordered.

They slung their equipment down, still running—after all, they didn't want to completely lose the moment—and helped. Arcadia pulled Dylan out as soon as his leg was free and slung him unceremoniously over her shoulder. They started running again. They finally made it out of the building and onto the loading bay. Above them was an air fight of epic proportions, and it was impossible to see who was winning. Not that it really mattered, because down here on the ground, where they all were, all that really mattered was that all the shit that was being shot off machines above them was falling around their heads.

They made a run for the Garbage Scow. When they were all in, Drew closed the hatch and ran for the flight deck."All hands prepare for escape velocity."

"What?" Arcadia asked in a near panic.

"Hang with me, chick, I've got a plan. Everyone strap in, secure the wounded." Drewcila launched herself into her seat, punched some buttons, and the ship's engines came on line and started powering up."Take off in ten, nine, eight . . ." She punched the launch button, and they shot up in the air like a cat with a firecracker up its ass. Debris and a small ship or two bounced off their hull, doing little or no damage.

"You skipped a bunch of numbers, Drew!" Arcadia accused, hanging on for dear life to a seat she hadn't had time to fasten herself into.

"Well, here they are. Pulling the warp engine off line in seven, six, five, four, three . . ."

"Are you fucking crazy!" Arcadia forced herself into the seat, and quickly fastened her harness.

'. . . two, one." Drew took the warp drive off line, and the ship stopped abruptly, and then started falling. She put the interplanetary engines on line, and their decent slowed. They finally stopped just a few thousand feet above the dog fight below.

"Arcadia . . .

"Can't talk. Stomach in tail," Arcadia said with a gulp.

"Take command of the weapons console."

Arcadia nodded, silently unstrapped herself, got up, staggered to the appropriate console, and strapped herself in, double-checking her harness.

"Van Gar, this is Drewcila. Where are you?"

"I was on my way to the capital. What in hell's name are you doing? Trying to rip your ship in two?"

"It would take a hell of a lot more than that to blow my ship. I'm in a fucking planet of trouble here, Van. Hepron Station—you know, the same Hepron Station where all my iggys are?—is under fire. I swear, it looks like the Lockhedes sent their entire fleet. I blew out of there quick because I wanted to be on top of the bastards, not under them."

"Well, that at least makes sense."

"I'm going to attack."

"Are you fucking nuts?"

"I didn't know that was ever a question. Get your ass over here and back me up."

"Drewcila . . ."

"I'm going in. Are you going to come back me up, or leave me blowing in the wind?"

"I'm coming, but at least wait for me."

"No can do. They killed my favorite lackey, and I'm royally pissed," Drew said simply and started the ship moving again. She looked at Arcadia, who was silent now."Well, aren't you going to tell me that we don't need him here?"

"No. I know you well enough to know that whatever you're planning probably is insane. We definitely do need Van Gar now. His skill was never in question." She smiled then."If it had been, he wouldn't have been any competition whatsoever."

 

Dartan had forced his crew to follow him to the bridge where the queen had said they could stay, but that they would have to find something to strap themselves to, as she fully intended to join the battle. Dartan had never stopped reporting, and his crew had never stopped shooting, and they were running live all over Barious. This was the story, this was the moment for which he would be remembered throughout the history of Barion journalism, and since he might very likely get killed in the next few minutes, he was going to make it count.

"The queen has moved her ship into a position where she can very easily see the battle going on below us and over Hepron Station. Our forces are obviously taking a beating. But the queen's ship is a large class freighter with a very thick hull, and we are told it carries more weapons than it's legally allowed to carry . . ."

"Hey, idiot boy!" Drew screamed."Did it ever dawn on you that the Lockhedes might actually watch TV, too? Why don't you just go ahead and tell them exactly where we are and how to kill us!"

"Sorry," Dartan said sheepishly.

"Don't be sorry, be smart."

Dartan nodded."Cut the audio. For now stick with visual."

The queen stuck a cigar in her teeth and lit it with her laser side arm. The ship seemed to have momentarily stopped. The Queen took a long draw on the cigar and holstered her side arm. Leaving the cigar clenched between her teeth, she puffed the smoke out and then announced through her teeth."Hang on, boys and girls. It's party time!"

She punched it, and the ship went screaming into the battle. It hit two small enemy planes, and they blew up. Apparently the ship was big enough and strong enough that such impacts did no damage at all.

Then the ship seemed to spin completely around.

"Targeting frigate," Arcadia announced. The ship lurched with the recoil as the guns fired a large missile. The frigate exploded in a ball of fire, and Drewcila pulled the nose of the ship up and over the burning wreckage.

Dartan figured out what was happening. The queen was maneuvering the ship into the best firing position, and the lizard woman manning the weapons station was targeting and firing at the precise moment that it would do the most damage. To do this as successfully and as seemingly effortlessly as they were doing it, it couldn't have been the first time. Drewcila moved the ship through the corridors of both enemy and friendly planes and ships, targeting the bigger and more dangerous Lockhede ships. The Valtarian aimed and fired, picking them off with deadly accuracy. But they were starting to take hits themselves now, and the computer was squawking about where and to what extent the ship was being damaged. It looked like they had met their end when they came nose to nose with a large frigate that had her canons aimed right at them. If they both fired, they'd both get hit, and one of them would go down. The other ship didn't seem as damaged as theirs sounded like it was. Then suddenly the ship in front of them exploded.

"What took you so long?" Drewcila asked with a hint of laughter in her voice.

"I hit traffic," a strong male voice replied.

Dartan looked at her, and longed to tell the people what he was seeing. She wasn't afraid. There was part of her, perhaps the larger part, that was actually enjoying this. There was no fear on her face, nor in the voice of whoever had just ridden to their rescue.

"Target?" the male voice asked.

"Ship eight," she answered, and Dartan assumed they had some grid that marked the ship's locations and numbered them to make it easier to target."You go starboard."

"Got you. On your command."

"Now."

The entire complexion of the battle changed in that moment. No longer were they the defenders; they had become the aggressors. As he had watched the queen and Valtarian work together as if one, these two ships and their crews now worked together—creating a greater unity. Two ships moved as if with one mind, zeroing in on targets, watching each other's backs, and totally crushing the enemy. All around him he could see the ship's crew—he guessed they were techs—running around making repairs even as the ship lurched and bucked and changed speed. They were on long harnesses which he assumed gave them some protection from the ship's lurching, but didn't keep them from being knocked down. They would get knocked down, get right back up again, and continue the work they had been doing as if nothing had happened. This ship's crew was a strange mixture of Barions and aliens from every corner of the universe, and at least for this moment it was only their appearance that was different.

It seemed like hours, but it probably wasn't more than fifteen minutes before the Lockhedes turned tail and started to run. They were retreating, and Dartan was sure they would be allowed to retreat.

"Run them down and destroy them!" Drewcila ordered.

"But, my queen . . . they are retreating," Dartan objected.

"Then it will be harder for them to fire on us, won't it?"

And it was. In minutes the remaining Lockhede vessels were blown out of the sky.

"Hepron Station, do you read?" Drewcila asked as they turned to head back in the direction of the station.

"Aye, aye. The tower's hit, but still standing," a female voice replied.

"Good . . . Call all ships back to the station. Remain on Dirty-Red-Dog-Alpha-6-Alert until told otherwise. Start repairs at once. If they have intelligence anywhere near, I want them to think that they have done minimum damage. Get rid of the bodies as quickly as possible. We want morale to stay high, and there is something about dead bodies that just brings down the spirit of the whole place."

"Sorting the bodies from the rubble alone could take weeks," the voice answered.

"Then don't sort the bodies from the rubble. Find an empty canyon. Shove all the debris, bodies and all, into piles. Cart it off and dump it in the canyon. I don't even want you to worry about the recyclable materials. Right now image is everything. If they think they have lost a huge chunk of their fleet and haven't given us more than a scratch, their morale, which was already low to begin with, is going to plummet."

"But Drew . . . people will be asking about their loved ones. They'll want to bury them . . ."

"They're going to be buried. I don't have time for a whole lot of sentimental bullshit. If I can throw away perfectly good trash, then they can deal with losing a few bodies. If someone doesn't call home, it means they're dead. When we get done cleaning up the mess we'll cover the debris with dirt, and I'll have a huge memorial erected there with the names of all the dead on it to commemorate those who fell because of Zarco's absurd stupidity."

"Zarco's?" Dartan asked in confusion.

"Did I say Zarco? I meant to say Atario. Their names sound alike. Don't you think they sound alike?"

"Ah . . . I guess so," Dartan said.

Drew smiled broadly at him."Oh, I do so love a man who humors me."

 

 

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