Excerpt: The Last Colony

Brendan bundled America into the corridor where his ship was, pointing toward the hatch and tossing her a transmitter. “Punch the green button,” he instructed. “I’m right behind you. Just need to check something out.”

She nodded, not hesitating a moment, turning and moving quickly toward the hatch. If she did as she was instructed, Ezra and Alana would take care of her and get the ship ready to go. He was confident that Alana could wake the ship from standby without him.

He’d thought he’d seen someone following them. He drew his weapon and moved back into the main corridor off the docking ports. Scanning the corridors, he saw nothing apparent. Then, out of the corner of his eye...

There. Brendan leveled his weapon at the middle-aged man in a pilot’s jumpsuit. “Hands away from your link,” he instructed in a rough voice.

The pilot hesitated for a bare second. Brendan powered up his weapon. The pilot slowly lifted his hands. “You’re not authorized to take anyone off-station,” the pilot said slowly.

“Of course I am,” Brendan said quietly. “General Hatchii ordered me to escort my charge to the ground. He said that Katsuana’s people might offer resistance. Are you offering me resistance? I’m authorized to respond with deadly force.”

The pilot hesitated again.

Not good. Brendan’s finger tightened against the trigger, but he didn’t pull it. Not quite yet. I don’t want to have to kill you, man. “Answer me.”

“I have to check your authorization.”

“Wrong answer.” Brendan pulled the trigger. The other pilot dropped. Brendan swallowed bile, willing himself not to retch. He holstered his weapon and dragged the body into a nearby docking tube, then moved quickly back to his own, where the ship was waiting. He ducked inside and activated his implant, mentally ordering the door to cycle shut and the ship into lockdown for launch.

“What happened?” Ezra asked. He was getting America situated on one of the bunks, medical kit already open on the floor next to him.

Brendan shook his head, sliding into his chair at the console. “Someone got a little too curious and didn’t give me the right answers. Splash one Corp pilot.” He could see Ezra’s wince reflected in the window. He shook his head slightly. There was nothing he could do. The man had made his choice. And I made mine. There wasn’t time to question the morality of the choice—it was done. The longer before the man’s body was discovered, the better. At least this way he couldn’t tell anyone what he’d seen. “Buckle up. Hopefully, this won’t be a bumpy ride, but you never know.” He breathed a prayer and unclamped from the docking port, nudging his ship away from the station.

The comm crackled. It was a different woman’s voice this time, speaking in the Corp’s tactical tongue. “Cho five five seven four three niner two one, Xiangaou Prefecture Control. Interrogative purpose of debarkation and destination?”

He responded in kind. “Xiangaou Prefecture Control, Cho five five seven four three niner two one. I have orders from General Hatchii to report to the surface immediately.”

“Affirmative, Cho five five seven four three niner two one. Do you have the beacon?”

“Yes, Control. My thanks.” He killed the voice pickup and exhaled a sigh of relief. He reached for Lindsay through their bond. We did it, Lin. We got her.

He felt warm and could almost—almost—hear her voice. Now come home safe.

Do you want to see her?

God! You have to ask? More than anything, Brendan.

He grinned and glanced back toward America. “Smile for your daughter.”

America Farragut looked confused for a moment, then seemed to catch on and smiled. It was a little difficult, but Brendan thought that he’d let Lindsay see through his eyes. He’d never done it before over such a vast distance. A faint pounding rose in his temples and behind his eyes.

Won’t be doing that again, he thought.

The comm crackled again. “Cho five five seven four three niner two one, we’re getting some strange readings. Please return to hard-dock.”

Shit. Lindsay was still there, sensing his sudden panic. He toggled on the voice pickup again. “Say again, Control? You’re breaking up.”

“Repeat, Cho five five seven four three niner two one, return to hard-dock.”

His mind reeled. Oh shit. The implant. They’re sensing psychic activity through the implant. Goddamn it all! He jerked the ship around in a loop, breaking off from the beacon and aiming toward the nearest jump point out-system.

“Cho five five seven four three niner two one! Respond now.” He could feel something in the back of his mind. They were trying to do something through his implant.

He knew what he had to do.

He shut down the voice pickup with a thought and grabbed his combat knife. There was little time for delicacy. “Alana! Get over here!” He roared before he jammed the knife into his implant. He jerked it free and went after it again. The buzzing died abruptly as he jerked the knife free after the second stab as pain began to explode in his brain. The knife fell from his nerveless fingers even as Alana shoved him out of the chair and to the deck.