Echoes of the Storm

Chapter 4

The pirate ship's cavernous bay swallowed Encompass and as the bay door closed, Cloe pointed at the overhead conduits. "Boost me up. You two, in the cockpit. One of you show yourself. I'll jump the last reaver up the ramp."

"That's insane," Jack said. "What if there's a dozen of them?"

"So take 'em out," Cloe said.

Jack slid his hand over his holstered weapon, but shook his head. "Blaster fire will draw more attention."

"At this hour there shouldn't be more than five or six on duty," Chase said. "But first, we talk. See if they'll compromise. Everyone can be bought."

"I'm all for negotiation," Jack said, "but there's a good chance these pirates will know we just left a revolution behind and Corona has a price on our heads."

Chase was adamant. "First we talk." He eyed Cloe. "No jumping them until I have a chance to—"

"Let me do the talking. You two stay out of sight," Jack said. "Norse will be blasting my face all over the streams. I guarantee we'll know which money these pirates will follow in a matter of minutes."

"If things look bad, we move," Cloe said.

Chase glanced at the conduits. "You'll be a sitting duck up there," he told her. "They'll spot you the minute they round the corner."

"They'll be looking at Jack, and not just because he's the prettiest one," she replied matter-of-factly.

Jack groaned. He started to reply, but Cloe cut him off. "Other than negotiation, I haven't heard you come up with any alternatives. Now would you just give me a boost?"

"You don't like heights," Jack said.

"And that stopped me when?" she asked.

"Right, then," Jack said. "You're right." He'd been on dozens of missions with her. They'd scaled towering cliffs and rappelled down buildings dangling on thin ropes. She always managed to quell her fear.

Cloe shrugged, gauging the distance between floor and ceiling. "Can't be more than four meters." She grinned even though an almost imperceptible thread of terror tightened around her words. "It's not like the time on Torredo when we climbed into the trees at Point Livey for cover and I ended up pouncing on those troopers who spotted you. Now that was high."

"Yeah, must've been at least five meters," Jack said sarcastically.

"Just do what I'm asking," Cloe said, her voice rough. "If the talking doesn't work out, this might give you...give us a few seconds more. You distract them. I fall. Chase can jump into the corridor from the cockpit and get off a round or two. Then we fly right outta here."

Chase shifted close to Cloe and said, "It might work." He cupped his hands to give her a lift.

Jack frowned. "Or I shoot and end up hitting you instead of one of the pirates."

"Won't happen." She stepped into Chase's hands, launched herself upward and scrambled onto her perch. She threw Jack a wicked grin. "I trust you."

Blood pulsed through Jack's veins to the rhythm of the shuttle's vibrations as it was sucked unwillingly into the pirate ship's cargo bay. He backed into the cockpit, eyeing Cloe's precarious perch. She was the only one who could pull this off with her small nimble frame. Hands and feet clamping the rounded pipes, she'd be at home with Torredo's monkey-like swarren, creatures that swung limb to limb through the rainforest.

The ship jerked, creaking and groaning and settling with a thud on the floor of the bay. There was a second jolt.

"Tractor's off," Chase said. He squatted behind the pilot's seat across the aisle from Jack, blaster pointed down the passageway.