Objective secured: Commandeer a Navigator
The first thing Leifur saw was Rolf’s face looming over him - not the prettiest sight, but one that at least reassured him that he was still alive. “Welcome back.” the other Jotunhel grinned at him, showing yellowed teeth.
He was on the floor of the shuttle, the buzz of the grav-plate loud in his ears and competing with the hiss of the oxygen mask that had been hooked over his nose and mouth. His helmet had been unfastened and now sat, absurdly, in the lap of one of Suvarov’s boys, who was watching him with saucer eyes and gripping the black-visored helmet like he’d been entrusted with a holy relic. Suvarov’s wife, a dumpy, kind-featured woman, had her arm wrapped protectively around the boy, while Suvarov himself appeared to be speaking soothing words to his other son in some kind of shipboard argot. The navigator and her guard sat near the front, and Leifur noticed that Grey’s glaive had telescoped down into a kind of long-bladed boarding axe, the better to swing in the confined space of a courier shuttle.
“I can’t believe that actually worked.” Dagny murmured to Leifur as she and Rolf helped him up into a sitting position. Past their pilot Leifur could see the familiar silhouette of the
Eudaimonia growing larger beyond the canopy, bright with running lights. Behind the slender destroyer, the distant stars were flaring and flashing erratically, the opening shots of the imperial battle squadron and the system picket force that had moved to intercept them. A brighter flash, perhaps a shield collapse, lanced down at them, as if reminding them to hurry.
Suranna, who was watching the distant light show, turned to acknowledge Leifur as he regained his faculties.
“I suppose it’s redundant to point it out now,” the navigator, or rather the jewelled translator brooch pinned to her robe, said. “But just so you don’t think I’m completely naive. I assume from your wounds and the conflicting stories you told me and the captain’s daughter that this transfer isn’t entirely above board.”
“No ma’am.” Suvarov admitted, squeezing his son’s shoulder and switching back to Adrantean standard. “It’s not. But we are all more likely to get out of here alive if you continue to cooperate.”
That seemed to amuse Suranna. She chuckled, and reached up to scratch her bald head. The sixth finger of her hand brushed the steel-shuttered goggle wrapped around her forehead. “Well said. I mean, I could open this and subject everyone here to the most painful death imaginable, but one of these fine gentlemen would probably get off a shot and pierce me or the hull, and I am very valuable.”
She glanced at Leifur with her liquid, almond-shaped eyes.
“Besides, you made an effort not to get lady Horza and her men killed, and I appreciate that.”
Leifur heard clicks and the creaks of weapon straps behind him as his squad relaxed a little.
“I will miss Genevive.” Suranna confessed wistfully, turning back to the approaching destroyer. “And my plants. But we must all make sacrifices when there’s a war on, I suppose.”
MISSION ACCOMPLISHED
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