Fathom (Mermaids of Montana #3) - Elsa Jade Page 0,77
the might of our armada on your little Dirt and purify the ocean there too, and move our people to your land.” Turning to stalk away, the doctor tossed over her shoulder, “Captain Cinek demands your presence on the bridge,” as if that order was an afterthought now that the insults and threats were done.
Lana glowered. Like she was going to just—
Two armed Cretarni soldiers crowded into the doorway.
Okay, apparently she was going to just.
Sullenly she pushed away from the wall and stepped out into the corridor. A few storage crates were stacked to either side of the door, and her translator quickly unscrambled the Cretarni script on the boxes as ‘hygiene wipes’ and ‘UV cleanser strips’; it was basically a broom closet where she’d been stuffed, how nice.
The engine thrum under her bare feet was stronger out here, and for the first time she could sort of understand Sting’s preference for going shoeless. All her senses seemed honed by the vulnerability. Minus, of course, the power she’d thoughtlessly rejected and then had forcibly taken from her.
Though she might not have any power left, she wasn’t going to miss another opportunity to fight Tritona’s enemies, so she kept surreptitious watch on every corridor they passed, reading every sign they passed and committing every turn to memory. Not that she could imagine how useful it would be to know the way back to her broom closet, but…
If she was going to save herself, she needed to get good at this, fast.
At a wide, bright archway, one of the soldiers gestured her to pass, and she eyed the secondary weapon holstered at his side as she sidled around. Maybe if one of them looked away for just a second…
Could she destroy the whole ship with one of those weapons, considering she no longer had her own power? If she could stop them before they made it to Tritona—
“Fire-witch,” Cinek said, clacking his teeth. “Who comes for you?”
“No one,” she said in a small voice. “Your cursed switch made sure of that.”
“We came for you,” the Cretarni captain said reasonably. “And now there is another blocking our way.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Is space not big enough to go around?”
“If we deviate from this course, we will draw the attention of closed-world security.” Though she tried not to react to this potential intel, Cinek snapped his teeth. “If planetary forces confront us, we may as well bomb your little world. We can sterilize your seas right now. Is that what you want?”
Her knees wavered. Tritona or Earth, she was supposed to decide which one died because of her? What kind of choice was that, especially when she suspected the Cretarni wouldn’t honor any choice she made. “How am I supposed to know who blocks your way? I can’t see through walls.”
With a high-pitched sound of exasperation, Cinek gestured to the big screen at the front of the room, enlarging an image there. Even with her translator, it took her a moment to make sense of the symbols as she peered at the screen. “It appears to be”—she waited until the Cretarni captain leaned in—“a spaceship of some sort.”
He straightened with another angry clack of teeth. “It’s not planetary security or they would be transmitting their ident. What are the ID codes for the exodus ship?”
She shrugged. “How would I know that? I didn’t even know I was an alien until recently.” She peered at him. “Which was all your fault.”
He ignored her pert response, focused on the screen, and barked a few orders at the other bridge crew that she was sure made sense to anyone who knew how to fly a spaceship. Which she didn’t, as evidenced by the crash of the only ship available.
She hardened her heart against the possibility that the small blip closing rapidly on their centered location could possibly be the Diatom.
And Sting.
She edged closer to the soldier who had crowded her down the hallway and was now partially blocking her view of the forward screen.
“Power up plasma cannons,” Cinek snarled. “And hail that ship.”
“Cannons primed, Captain, but we can’t open ports without disengaging the mimic shield, which will expose us to long-distance scans from planetary security.” When Cinek snarled again, the hapless Cretarni crewman added, “But the other ship can’t fire either, for the same reasons.”
“The other ship is opening comms,” another crewman called. “No vid.”
Lana took a sliding half step toward the soldier whose attention was fixed on the blinking light of their on-screen enemy.