IceFlight Page 16
Jileea was moving so fast that the energy credits she had saved since joining the ship were almost exhausted. Her com field set her skin tingling and she swatted absently at a forearm as she leapt from the link to land ten metres along Rebound Road. An energy sink was anchored to cells throughout her body – powering muscles and protecting her from harm. She checked the time her com had left in combat mode and cursed all mutt. She should have known better than to trust them as an unsupervised part of her team.
I had no choice. Loyalty was a must. Drak. How hard is it to find an unconscious kres?
Jileea tried to find some anger for the mutt, but there was only a distant exasperation. They tried their utmost and she had absolutely no reason to expect better results. Plus, she was far too excited to be annoyed. She could feel the Luck flowing under her skin, raising goosebumps. It was an underground river and she was a mote in the current, being swept into darkness, or out to sea. She hardly cared which. She was gambling and caught deep in the thrill. She could almost understand how her father had bet her and lost, in the wager pits. Almost.
Jileea looked up and froze before her next bounding leap. It would propel her to the end of the first corridor, but she locked her muscles in place to halt instantly, dropping to a crouch, with one foot on the flat and one still raised on a shadowy hill. Someone was slumped across the threshold of the first rebound cave. She hissed quietly as her scan stabbed out to brutally analyse a golden forearm that had been thrown across the passage. Her com pulse shattered DNA to give an unequivocal reading. The still figure was genuinely unconscious and was definitely Nightwing.
“At last,” Jileea breathed, and a twitch of her legs took her to the helpless officer in a single stride. She stood over her Senior, who was sprawled face down across the corridor. She was relieved that his features were hidden and suddenly realized that killing in cold blood might be harder than she thought. A surge of remorse surprised her and she sniffed in annoyance. Nightwing was never especially friendly to her, that would have been bizarre on such a ship, but he was always fair, which was almost as strange.
Jileea crouched uncertainly and threw a cursory glance at the rebound cave. Whoever had been playing against the kres had clearly had the good sense to leave. Jileea looked back down at her victim and he groaned, causing her hand to flex automatically and target her com.
Wing’s eyelids flickered and his arms tensed as his hands scrabbled weakly against the shadowed floor. Drakkit. Jileea rose to stand over him, moving as if in slow motion.
“It’s too bad, Nightwing. We could have had fun before it got to this.” Jileea’s arm slowly rose, but she still hesitated before firing. She leaned over again to stare at his forearm, and her upper lip creased in a frown. The gaping welt left by her scan was exactly what she expected, but something else was not. Her lips puckered further and then parted with a hiss. “Where’s his drakking com?”
“Here,” said an unexpected voice from the cave, and Jileea’s world exploded. Her head flew back as someone struck her with com-enhanced speed. She went with the blow, sliding back across the passage, blinking furiously in an effort to focus. Unfortunately, she failed completely. She must actually be unconscious, and dreaming, because an enemy seemed to be closing on her that looked like Wing’s primitive slave, painted in surreal colors. Certain-sure she was hallucinating. The vision closed on her again and punched her in the face.
Drak. Jileea staggered in pain, completely disoriented. Dreams weren’t supposed to hurt. She blinked and realized she was down on one knee. She bounced upright, straight into the slave’s next attack.
The primitive spun to deliver a roundhouse kick that made Jileea stagger. She was down again, on both knees this time and tried to track the next blow, but it landed with numbing force. Her own program was completely outmatched. She had a blurred impression of a kaleidoscope creature spinning toward her, a bizarre jig-saw horror, before stars filled her vision. Her enhanced muscles tensed uselessly. She never even realized there was another blow coming. A boot slammed into her wrist, which snapped when her com shattered and the world around her exploded into shards of pain and darkness. The very last blow Jileea felt was the floor striking her face.
17
The Fight