“Tristan!”

Only static replied.

Alex cursed, that explosion had been too close. He glanced at the readout from the passive scanners, but that didn’t tell him anything useful, there were just too many ships out there.

He checked his connection to the network, still there. Good, whatever had disrupted communication was a local thing. He sent the recording wrapped in the broadcasting code to the communication node.

A series of explosions sounded, getting louder and the last one shook the shuttle. The connection to the network erupted in static. Alex fought to reestablish it. He tried to ignore the closeness of the explosions. He was far enough from the action that no one should be bothering with him.

The connection stabilized. He checked the integrity of the transmission. The nod had refused it because it had been scrambled. He sent it again. He caught movement from one of the shuttle’s camera. People were entering his hangar.

He cursed, how had they found him?

He hung his head. He’d been in such a hurry to sent Master’s admission of guilt to the mercs, to get them off Tristan’s back, he hadn’t bounced his transmission off any nodes. All they’d had to do was backtrace it to his location. Stupid!

“Computer, engage shuttle defense mode. Target anyone who isn’t Alexandre Bartholomew Crimson, Tristan or Emil Rithal.” He kept an eye on the transmission and the other on the incoming mercs. The shuttle wasn’t firing on them.

What was going on? They were close enough.

He opened another screen. “Talk to me.”

Silence.

“Come on, we’re friends, just tell me what’s going on. Why aren’t you firing on them?”

He moved through the code, everything looked intact. No one had gotten in. So what was keeping the computer from obeying his command? He glanced at the screens. 

The transmission was finished. Now it would be dispersed through the network without him having to do anything else.

The mercs were still far enough. He had time. He moved through the code until he was at the weapon controls. He quickly wrote commands to get them to fire, but they were intercepted by a program and destroyed.

What was that? He’d never seen it before. He didn’t have time to dissect it. He’d have to get the computer to remove it itself. He shifted deeper in the code and started adding parameters to the antibodies.

They refused them.

Oh, this was not good. He’d given himself enough authority they should have incorporated them. He moved to the command section of the code and looked through it.

All his additions were gone.

Only one person could have done this. When? The better question was why was he still alive if Tristan had found how he’d taken over the computer.

A red light on the screen started blinking. Proximity alert. The mercs were getting too close to the ship. He cursed the Samalian’s interference; he’d been counting on the shuttle’s weapons to keep everyone away.

He checked that he was still recording what was happening in the warehouse, not that there was much to see or hear at the moment. Dust and debris everywhere, sound of explosions. He couldn’t even tell where Tristan and Emil were.

He stood and took out his guns. Well, he was dead anyway this turned out, he might as well go out defending the shuttle.

Standing mostly hidden next to the open ramp he fired at anyone he saw. A quick glance as they scattered told him there were more than a dozen mercs. All he had to do was keep them off the shuttle until Tristan got here. The Samalian could deal with whoever was left.

The hangar didn’t have much cover for the mercs to use so all Alex had to do was not expose himself and take them down. After a few minutes of this he realized that for as many mercs he took down, the number didn’t seem to diminish those firing at him. In fact, it felt like their numbers were increasing. Someone had called for reinforcement.

It didn’t matter, so long as he kept them away he had the advantage. That thought had just crossed his mind that he noticed the arm by the opening of the ramp. It threw something in the shuttle before Alex could fire at it, and then his reaction was pure instinct. He ran down the ramp wondering just how badly Tristan would hurt him for getting his shuttle destroyed.

He threw himself to the ground as A light flashed behind him along with a high pitch whine that was muffled by the hull. Stun grenade. He rolled to his feet and fired at the mercs in the distance, trying to keep them from shooting at him. At least the shuttle was intact, one less thing for Tristan to kill him over.

He had a moment to wonder why they weren't firing back at him before he remembered the arm. He spun, but she’d already closed the distance. He saw short blond hair, green eyes as she batted his arm away hard. She grabbed his other wrist and twisted. Alex moved with it to keep her from breaking it, but he lost his gun.

He spun, ended on his back and pulled her down with him. He then shoved her off, forcing her to release him. He leveled his gun on her, but she kicked it out of his hand.

Alex rolled away, got to a crouch and pulled out two large knives. Mono edge, so her armor wouldn’t provide as much protection. He looked beyond her at the mercs, as she got to her feet and pulled a knife of her own, a slim stiletto, no one moved. Their guns were trained in their direction, but they looked to want to give her the opportunity to take him down. The tip of her stiletto began glowing as she crouched and moved toward him.

The good thing about a laser-tipped knife was that he didn’t have to worry about bleeding to death.

She came at him, he moved aside, slashed at her but she’d thrown herself aside before his blade could make contact. She was back on her feet and they circled each other. Alex saw two other stilettoes on her, and a few places where she could be hiding more knives.

He feigned left and slashed at her exposed side, but she stopped his knife with hers, and the stiletto didn’t get cut where his knife’s edge made contact.

He backed up and they circled again.

This was new. He couldn’t think how it had been able to survive, as far as he knew, there was nothing a mono-edge couldn’t cut.

They exchanged blows and he managed to land an elbow in her face. She spat blood and snarled. She lunged. He sidestepped, and felt pain shoot up his leg. The smell of burnt fabric and flesh. When they stepped away she was holding a second stiletto, its tip lit and still smoking.

He put weight on his leg and found it could support him. Just a grazing cut then. She smiled at him, a vicious thing that promised pain.

Alex ran at her, he struck, she parried, he struck again, she blocked his arm. He kneed her in the stomach and she stepped back, wheezing. He didn’t give her time to catch her breath, She looked up in time for Alex to plant his knife in her chest.

She struck at his side, the stiletto burning a painful hole in his flesh. She pulled it out as she fell to the floor.

There was a moment of silence, interrupted only by the sound of fighting and explosions in the distance. A man took a step forward.

“Don’t move.”

Alex watched him. Hard face with a scar running from scalp to jaw. Short graying hair. The gun he was pointing at him was large, it looked deadly.

“You’re the Samalian’s accomplice. Where’s the kid.”

Alex looked the mercs over. Fifteen of them, men and women dressed in a variety of armored clothing. They could still be part of the same team, but Alex didn’t think so. They were following the man’s lead because he was the one exuding authority.

“You’re worth more alive then dead, but I have no problem bringing a corpse back if you force my hand.”

Dead. He was dead, there was no avoiding that. One against fifteen. Who had ever heard of surviving those kind of odds.

Alex felt the smile form on his lips. Oh, he was dead, that was certain. But he wasn’t going to die at their hand. Only one person was going to kill him. Only the person who’d broken his heart was going to be the one to stop it.

He threw both knives left and right as he ran for the man. He pulled out two more as he zig and zagged in his direction. Shots flew around him, he felt a few graze him but he didn’t stop. He threw himself in the air at the man and plunged his knives in his chest. He left them there as they fell and he rolled off. He pulled another knife and switched it on, the buzz of the vibrating edge lost in the sound of blasting.

He slashed at the closest merc, a woman, and her arm fell to the ground. He weaved and boobed among them, using them as cover even as he killed them. He heard himself laugh.

It had been a very long time since he’d had this much fun.