Inside the docking area, someone fired again. One of the soldiers. His blazer bolt hit a Starseer shield and deflected into the ceiling. A black-armored soldier was hurled back into the corridor, even as the floor continued to rock. Sergeant Yakuri hurled something toward the Starseers. An explosive? No, a smoke grenade. It bounced off the Starseer shield covering the group’s heads, but didn’t fall off. It lay up there on the invisible convex barrier and spewed green smoke into the docking area.
“Get the boy,” Sinclair ordered from the mouth of the corridor, his voice sounding strangely monotone. “Yakuri, get him.”
“Leonidas,” Alisa said. “Talk to your people. Tell them to stop.”
“I’m not in their chain of command,” Leonidas said, protecting Thorian with his body just as Alisa was doing for Jelena. “They won’t listen to me.”
Yakuri turned toward them, his gaze locking on the boy.
“Try anyway. That’s an order.” Alisa didn’t know if he thought her authority extended to a position such as this—it wasn’t as if they were on the ship and dealing with ship matters—but when Sergeant Yakuri strode in his direction, Leonidas pushed Thorian behind Alisa. “Protect him.”
“I will.”
He strode out to meet Yakuri, his own rifle pointed toward the floor.
“It won’t work,” Thorian whispered, as Alisa eased him behind her, glad the armor gave her some extra width.
“It will work,” she said, hoping she wasn’t deluding herself. “The imperials respect him.”
“He’s controlling them.”
“What?” Alisa glanced at Thorian as Yakuri and Leonidas met. “Who?”
Leonidas lifted a hand, a peaceful gesture, but Yakuri whipped his rifle up with that blinding cyborg speed and shot him in the chest. Alisa gasped.
Leonidas dove to the side, reflexes taking him out of harm’s way before much damage was done to his armor, but Yakuri tracked him and kept firing.
“They’re his men now,” Thorian said.
Chapter 22
Alisa yanked one of the grenades off her utility belt. Yakuri was firing relentlessly at Leonidas. Leonidas fired back as he twisted and dodged, his great speed usually enough to evade mere mortals, but Yakuri had reflexes to match his. He anticipated the dodges and fired in time. Scorch marks appeared in Leonidas’s armor, and smoke wafted up to mingle with the green haze now covering the docking area.
“Get back, Leonidas,” Alisa whispered. She hoped the words would come through on his helmet comm but were not loud enough that Yakuri would hear them over the surrounding din—the soldiers were still firing at the Starseers, their eyes glazed behind their faceplates. “I’m throwing a grenade.”
Trusting that Leonidas would react in time, she waited until Yakuri's side was toward her and he appeared focused on Leonidas. She rolled the grenade in his direction and prayed that the sergeant would not notice it if it stayed low.
Leonidas leaped up an instant before a blast would have slammed into one leg. He whirled in the air and hurled something of his own at Yakuri.
Yakuri leaped back, firing at the projectile. It exploded with a flash several feet in front of him, but the shockwave made him stumble back. A second later, the one Alisa had rolled toward him blew up, smoke billowing and hiding him from view.
Leonidas sprinted out of the smoke to join Alisa, standing shoulder to shoulder to further protect the children.
“Thorian says someone’s controlling them,” Alisa said.
“I gathered.” With smoke wafting from his charred armor, Leonidas fired a sustained blast into the smoke.
Alisa couldn’t tell if it was hitting Yakuri or not. His red suit of armor soon appeared as he rolled away from the site of the explosion. Soot covered the side of it, but unfortunately it was still intact. He leaped to his feet, and six more imperial soldiers rushed over to join him.
“We can’t keep them all away,” Alisa said, backing up to the wall, keeping the children behind her.
“Someone has to get the hatch open,” Leonidas said, staying with her. “Get Mica on it.”
“I already tried.” She started to say more, but several of the soldiers fired in their direction.
She ushered the children into the slight alcove of the airlock hatch, doing her best to protect them with her body. The soldiers adjusted their aim in her direction. Leonidas fired back instantly, and Alisa, with terror stampeding through her chest, did the same. She pressed against the corner of the hatch, finding partial cover there.
“We can’t stand up to all of them,” she said, her blazer fire splashing uselessly off Yakuri’s faceplate.
The soldiers’ blasts struck her exposed shoulder, and her suit lit up with more warnings.
“I know,” Leonidas said over the sound of weapons fire. He was even more exposed than she, but he seemed loath to leave the children. Only his and Alisa’s armored bodies protected them. “Stay with them,” he ordered, tugging another grenade from his belt.
“Of course. I’ll guard them with my life.”
He threw the grenade, then paused, meeting her eyes. “I love you.”
After a glance to make sure the children weren’t in the line of fire, he patted her shoulder, then raced toward the soldiers to stop them from firing at her. Alisa opened her mouth to shout back that she loved him, too, but the grenade exploded, drowning out her words.
Scarcely heeding the explosion, Yakuri strode toward Leonidas.
Leonidas couldn’t possibly defeat so many, not with another cyborg in the middle of the fight. Alisa wished there was some way she could disseminate Yumi’s drug, to break the control the chasadski had over the soldiers, but even if she hurled the powder at them, their suits would filter it, ensuring they didn’t inhale any.
Several men fired at Leonidas, even as Yakuri leaped forward, engaging him in physical battle. Fortunately, the Starseers weren’t completely out of the fight. Most of them seemed preoccupied, their gazes toward the far airlock, but one thrust out his hand, hurling three of the soldiers away from the battle. Another soldier’s armor spasmed, his arms and legs flailing, with the man ending up on the floor. But still more funneled out of the corridor, heading toward Leonidas, as if they knew they had to get past him to reach the children.
“Mica,” Alisa commed, “if you can hear me, I want you to fire at the chasadski ship. Try to distract them. Are they shielded?”
Nobody answered her. Whatever was going on outside, it had to be chaotic.
Major Sinclair glared at her across the battle. Even though she was back in the alcove as far as she could go, he could see her easily from his position. He lifted his rifle, firing straight at her. Her heart nearly stopped as blazer bolts streaked at her chest. Her first instinct was to dodge, to try to avoid being hit, but her mind screamed at her, reminding her of the children—the unarmored children—behind her. She couldn’t dodge and expose them, and there wasn’t room enough for her to back up further.
She accepted the blast, feeling the thud through her chest plate, seeing the alarmed data scroll past on her faceplate. She fired back, aiming for his faceplate, hoping to get the bastard to scurry back into the corridor.
It was Yakuri who flew backward. He hit the floor and skidded toward Sinclair, startling him. He stopped shooting as he leaped away. Knowing her reprieve was short, Alisa looked around wildly, seeking a solution. She couldn’t take many more hits like that one.
“Abelardus,” she called. He and Ostberg were by the hatch where the chasadski were supposedly docking, probably trying to find a mechanical Starseer way to thwart the lock. “I need your help,” she yelled.
His Starseer shield would be a more effective way to stop weapons fire. The idea of a blast slipping past her and striking one of the children terrified her. To find Jelena only to lose her before they’d had a proper hug… That could not happen.
Coughs came from behind her.
“Are you all right?” Alisa glanced back.
?
??The air is gross,” Jelena rasped, wiping tears from her eyes.
That first smoke grenade. Alisa couldn’t smell the gas through her helmet filter and only now realized that several of the Starseers were coughing and holding their hands to their noses. Their barriers must not be keeping out the air fully.
“Watch out,” Leonidas yelled.
Alisa turned to spot Sinclair preparing to shoot at her again. She whipped her rifle up, firing back. Damn it, why wasn’t there anywhere in here to take better cover? She’d accept a potted plant at this point. A sturdy potted plant.
Thorian stepped out from behind Alisa and frowned in Sinclair’s direction.
“Don’t—” Alisa blurted, grabbing his arm and forcing him back.
“I need to concentrate,” he said.
“You can concentrate from behind my ass!”
He blinked up at her, but obeyed, sliding behind her. He did, however, stick his head out under her armpit and continue looking at Sinclair. Alisa expected the major to fire and worried about blocking the bolt, but Sinclair dropped his rifle for no apparent reason. He lurched away from the mouth of the corridor, smoke swirling about him as his arms made jerky movements. His walk was jerky, too, a lopsided stagger that had little to do with the tremors shaking the base. He looked like a puppet being controlled by a drunken puppet master. He yelled something about being out of control, then one of his arms locked, sticking straight up. He tipped over forward, landing on his chest plate with his legs still twitching.
The soldiers around him faltered, and many stopped firing.
“Sir?” more than one asked.
Leonidas took advantage and hurled one soldier into a wall so hard that his helmet dented when it struck. The man crumpled to the floor and did not rise.
Alisa glanced back at the children in time to see Jelena slap Thorian on the chest. “Can you break his comm too?”
Thorian nodded once without answering. Had he done that to the major’s armor?
“Comm is out,” Thorian said. “He can yell all he wants, but nobody’s going to hear him with his face in the floor.”
“Good,” Jelena said. “Do more of them. Do them all.”
Thorian looked up at Alisa. “She’s bossy,” he informed her, as if he’d been waiting a long time to report this fact to her mother.
“She gets that from me. I agree with her. If you can break more of their armor…”
“Working on it.” Thorian took a deep breath, but it turned into a coughing fit.
Alisa swatted at the air, as if that could help him with the gas.
“Fight it,” Leonidas cried, from several meters away. He was battling valiantly, taking hits if it meant he could keep the soldiers from getting through to reach Alisa and the children, but he sounded breathless—or maybe injured. “You’re being controlled by a Starseer. We are not enemies.”
A couple of the soldiers hesitated, but more of them kept firing. Some were down, or being attacked by the coughing Starseers who huddled behind their shields, sending mental attacks across the docking area, but at least eight remained standing.
Not knowing how else to help, Alisa went back to shooting. She tried to pick men who were focused on Leonidas, using sustained fire to try and drill holes straight through their suits. One must have worked because the man screamed in pain. But instead of running away, he roared and sprinted at her.
Terror rose into her throat, but she kept her hand steady, firing at his faceplate until he was almost upon them. With few other options, she lunged toward him before he could reach her, and she slammed a punch into his chest plate. He punched at her in return, not bothering to block her attack. Fortunately, the armor enhanced her strength, and she landed a solid blow, making him grunt and pause. Pain contorted his features behind his faceplate, probably from the blast that had gotten through his armor rather than her fist.
She blocked a couple of frantic punches from him, relieved that they were slower than anything Leonidas threw at her, then waded in, looking for vulnerable seams with her own punches. When he stumbled back, limbs akimbo for a second, she slammed a straight kick into his groin. Between her anger and the suit’s power, it hurled him several feet into the air. He twisted, trying to land on his feet, but she kicked him in the backside, sending him skidding toward the rest of the fighters.
“Get him, Mom,” Jelena blurted, and a surge of pleasure and pride went through Alisa, briefly overriding the terror that had ridden her since the battle began.
Leonidas spotted the soldier skidding toward the group and turned his back on the others for a second, grabbing him and hurling him into the air. He hit the ceiling before smashing down, where he lay unmoving.
Leonidas gave her a quick gesture of approval, meeting her eyes before whirling back toward the soldiers trying to take advantage of his turned back. She thought they would all fire, but the front three halted in the middle of aiming. Their bodies stiffened and jerked about in the same way Sinclair’s had.
Alisa backed into the alcove again, noting the extreme concentration on Thorian’s face. Jelena had tears in her eyes from coughing, but she looked pleased by the three malfunctioning sets of combat armor.
“You’re supposed to show a boy your appreciation when he does what you ask,” Alisa told her, smiling before turning back into her guard stance, using her body to protect them from fire.
“Like how?”
“Just say thank you,” Alisa suggested over her shoulder. “Or you could kiss him on the cheek.”
“Ew, Mom.”
She smiled at the familiar phrase, pleased and relieved that some things hadn’t changed, even if the attire had. She was also pleased to see more soldiers pitching over with their armor not responding to their wishes. The red cyborg armor was in the lot. Other soldiers that had been hurled against walls by Leonidas and the Starseers were not getting up. Only four remained fighting him. Alisa started to believe that they might triumph over everything Tymoteusz was throwing at them, but since she had no idea what was going on outside between the ships, she told herself not to get smug.
Instead, she picked another target, one of the men attacking Leonidas. Careful not to shoot anywhere near Leonidas—his armor did not look like it could take any more hits—she fired in quick bursts, hoping to find a seam again.
“Captain?” Mica said over the comm, static mangling her voice. “We’re coming through the hatch. With explosives. Back up and… vacuum of… we’ve got energy net to… everyone before they’re…”
“I can barely hear you, Mica,” Alisa yelled, but she got enough of the gist to worry.
She gathered Jelena and Thorian in her arms, thankful that the armor made picking them up easy. She turned her back to the vestiges of the fight, careful to keep the children sheltered. Still under Tymoteusz’s control, the imperials kept battling, even with their reduced numbers. She tried to make her way to a wall far from the hatches, but paused, spotting Abelardus and Ostberg.
They were backing away from the hatch that led to the chasadski ship, their staffs up as they faced it. That hatch was now open. Alisa glimpsed the glow of the Staff of Lore in the airlock tube. Four men in black robes were striding onto the base, including Tymoteusz.
“Mica,” Alisa said over her comm, as she continued to move away, “now would be a good time to attack the chasadski ship.”
“Can’t until we get you and… shields up.”
“Get back, Alisa,” Abelardus called to her over his shoulder, then lifted both arms, his shoulders tense as he faced the newcomers.
Tymoteusz’s hair waved, but he did not slow down. He flicked a finger, and Abelardus and Ostberg flew backward. His eyes met with Alisa’s, the determination in them seemingly mingled with madness, and then his gaze landed on Thorian.
With no way to attack him while she held the children, Alisa rushed on, trying to reach a corner where she could protect them and where they would be safe from explosives.
“Hurry, Mica,” Alisa whisper
ed, but she feared it was already too late.
Tymoteusz and his men stopped in the mouth of the airlock alcove. Abelardus scrambled to his feet, blood streaming down the side of his face. Once again, he held out his staff. Alisa shook her head. They needed more than brute and mental force against this man. They needed—
Tymoteusz raised the Staff of Lore and thumped it against the floor.
An explosive crack filled the air, rock splitting somewhere above the docking area. The floor heaved, and even Alisa’s armor stabilizers couldn’t keep her upright. She stumbled, landing hard on her knees, shifting her grip to keep the children from being hurt.
“Mom,” Jelena cried.
Thorian, who had so bravely faced the soldiers, squinted his eyes shut and buried his face against Alisa’s shoulder.
Another thunderous crack boomed—it sounded as if the entire asteroid was splitting in half.
Leonidas spotted Tymoteusz and, turning his back on the two remaining imperials, sprinted toward him. He flung a fluidwrap, followed by a grenade.
A boulder slammed down in front of Alisa, and she did not see if Leonidas reached Tymoteusz. It was the first of many boulders, and all she could do was lunge toward the closest wall, hoping for a semblance of protection.
She pulled the children even closer, using her body to shield them as the floor pitched them forward. They did not reach the wall before tumbling down. A boulder struck Alisa’s shoulder, jarring her bones even through the armor. More rocks slammed into the floor all around her. The entire docking area was caving in. Alisa pulled the children underneath her body, her back to the falling rocks.
Something smacked the inside of her brain like a rubber band snapping, dazing her. A mental attack? She tried to lift her head, but her thoughts grew foggy, and she struggled to remember what she was doing.
A black-robed figure appeared next to her, somehow maintaining his footing even as boulders the size of shuttles pounded down. Hope surged within her breast. Could it be Abelardus? No. As the boulders crashed down around the man, bouncing off an invisible barrier, Alisa saw his face—and the damned glowing staff.