Page 17 of Star Cruise Captain's Story

“Here, I have headclear in a noninject form,” Red said, unslinging a small medpack. “You can take our meds, right?”

For answer she stuck out her hand and he shook two pills onto her palm. “Anything to get rid of this pounding in my brain. I can’t think straight.”

“If this involves emotions,” Jake said slowly, transferring his focus to Owen, ignoring the byplay between Red and Maeve, “Perhaps Tyrelle could?—”

“No.” The Cargo Master’s refusal was blunt and immediate. “She’s not coming down here and I’m not risking her. I’d follow Captain Fleming—or you—into the seven hells but my wife isn’t a soldier. She stays safe on the ship.”

“Fair enough.” Jake nodded but rubbed his chin. “What if she and Maeve linked up on the subaural com and tried it?” Addressing Maeve, he asked, “Is that possible?”

Owen remained unconvinced. “Maeve’s practically a Mellurean and the damn entity threw her for a loop. I’m not going to agree to expose Tyrelle to it in any form.”

“I think he’s right,” Maeve said. She stopped herself from denying the identification of herself as one of the ancient aliens. She was nothing close to the Mellureans, although she was flattered by the comparison. “And this being or god or whatever he is, is highly dangerous. Baxtir better hope it doesn’t fully wake from its current state is all I can say.”

“If it doesn’t like what the Jlonngi have been doing to its precious temple, wait until we explode a few bombs inside,” Red said with relish. Maeve knew he thoroughly enjoyed his demolition specialty. She was glad there was no call for it aboard her ship. “Talk about a wakeup call! Even an ancient god can’t sleep through what I have planned for his building.”

“Being close to its mind was like floating above a bed of seething lava,” Maeve said, finding words inadequate but doing her best to convey to her companions what she’d sensed. “If it does seek to stop the use of its temple for another religion the outcome will be catastrophic.”

“All right, enough discussion of this new player,” Jake resumed his former position on the ridge. As he walked, he said over his shoulder, “Sounds like we can’t realistically enlist him or influence him. We still have a combat mission of our own to plan so Maeve, if you can get your drones in action again, that’d be great. But stay away from the irate owner of the temple, okay?”

“No problem. I’ve got no desire to attract its attention to myself.” She took a long drink of water from her canteen and resumed her place. Closing her eyes, she evaluated the current status of all her tiny robos and began issuing orders. Soon the stream of images and data was flowing again and Maeve tried to relax into the task. Awareness of the alien god’s presence and his all-consuming anger hovered close to her consciousness and it was exhausting to wall herself away from him.He’d be a terrible ally, as likely to turn on us as to obliterate Baxtir. Better if we don’t poke him into action.

The following evening…

Confident and ready for action,Gil strode though the temple complex and entered the area used to house the prisoners until tomorrow’s twisted ‘ceremony’ of torture and death occurred. Jake had relayed the plan for breaking into the temple and extracting Daveed and the other hostages tonight. It was a good plan, as he would expect, coming from Jake and Gil rated the probability of success high. The first part of the plan was the facthe was going to be in place as the night guard. He’d traded one of the other mercenaries for the shift without much trouble. No one liked being in the temple and especially not at night. It was an eerie place, unwelcoming, and the mix of ancient building and unsettling wall paintings and frescoes, combined with the modern renovations Baxtir had grafted onto the structure was the stuff of nightmares.

His good mood lasted right up until the man he was relieving walked briskly into view in the long corridor. “Jago, what the seven hells, man? You deserting your post? I’m not late.” Gil checked his wrist chrono and confirmed he was arriving a good fifteen minutes early for duty. “Something wrong?”

“Nah, I know better than to walk away from the job before my replacement arrives,” Jago said with a grin. “Never know when Arturo or his man Quint might check up on me. But Baxtir showed up with a couple of his own goons and told me to get out. I get the feeling he wants to have a ‘conversation’ with the hostages. Well, with the special one anyway. I heard the cage being opened behind me as I vacated the premises. I know when I’m not wanted.” Jago punched Gil in the bicep in a friendly manner and handed over the key to the cages. “It’ll be good tomorrow when this crazy show is over and we finally get paid. I’m ready to get off this damn planet and re-enter normal, mostly law abiding civilization.”

“I’m with you there, brother.” Consumed by worry over this last minute complication Gil could hardly form coherent words. He headed in the direction Jago had come from.

Both men froze and steadied themselves as a minor earthquake rattled the room, setting the lamps to swinging in an eerie dance.

“Damn quakes,” Jago said as the low-pitched rumble faded. “If I didn’t know better I’d think this place was cursed.”

Remembering what Maeve had said about the ancient deity who ‘owned’ this temple before Baxtir took it over, Gil couldn’t argue with the man. A small voice in his head was telling him to get out of this dangerous structure before a bigger quake hit, but he quelled the misgivings, reminding himself of the mission he was here for and his brother waiting for him.

“I’m telling you, don’t go into that room,” Jago called after him. “We ain’t wanted there tonight.”

Baxtir might not want us, but he’s going to get me anyway.Squaring his shoulders and making sure his blaster was at the ready, Gil walked on, forcing himself to keep a steady gait. “I’ll stand by just in case,” he said over his shoulder.

“It’s your funeral, man,” Jago said carelessly. “No bonus for being overeager. See you tomorrow. For the sick party Baxtir is gonna throw.”

Gil heard the click of the other mercenary’s boots as he walked away and quickened his pace toward the chamber where the prisoner cages had been set up. As he got closer he heard voices, although the words weren’t clear and then the sound of a fist hitting flesh and a deep grunt of pain. Baxtir’s laugh echoed as Gil entered the room.

Gil made sure the subaural comlink was open, so Jake and the others would know there’d been a change in plan.

His brother was on his knees, held tightly on either side by Baxtir’s own thugs, hands bound behind his back and the self-styled Bringer of Death stood in front of Daveed, a gloating smile on his face. “Not so arrogant now, are you, soldier boy? How do you like the tables being turned and you being the one on your knees to me?” As Gil watched, Baxtir fisted his hand in the hostage’s hair and yanked his head up at a painful angle. “If I didn’t need you for the ceremony tomorrow, I’d beat you to death right here and now.” He slapped Daveed across the face and his rings cut open his victim’s cheek and lip.

Poised to strike again, Baxtir paused, hand upraised and glared at Gil. “What the fuck are you doing here? I told your boss not to post a guard tonight.”

He shrugged carelessly. “I didn’t get any word.” Moving fast, he drew his blaster and shot the two guards.

As the men dropped, Baxtir went for his own weapon but Daveed kicked his legs out from under him. The terrorist shot wildly as he fell and rolled away, scrambling to get behind the nearest column. Gil rushed to place himself in front of his brother. Baxtir shot at them from his hiding place but Gil was already dragging Daveed to the side, behind the edge of the cage, which offered scant protection. Hastily he cut through his brother’s bonds and handed him the knife and his backup blaster from his boot. “We’ve got friends coming,” he said. “But we need to get out of here.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Daveed replied. “Thanks for coming—I think you’re a crazy fool but I appreciate the gesture.”

“You’d do the same for me, probably a whole lot more efficiently.” Gil squeezed off a shot. He had to be careful, with the other ten hostages in open cages with nothing to shield them but Baxtir didn’t have such scruples.

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