Part 4
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	"Are you alright, Lt. Rhodes?" James asked. Karen moved her head just
enough to nod. She kept her eyes fixed on the opposite bulkhead and her head
firmly back against the seat, concentrating on quieting her stomach. It was
better now that they were on the ground. Her inner ear had some semblance of
gravity to tell her which way was up. She didn't think that she could go
through that flight again. Maybe they should just leave her here on
Enceladus. She could always shack up with the pirates.

	She felt James' big hands pulling at her harness, and then the straps
released with a snap. She blew out another shaky breath and got to her feet
unsteadily.

	"Easy there, Doc," James caught her under the elbow as she swayed.
She rested against him for a moment, grateful. Slowly her equilibrium
returned.

	"Thanks, James," she said. "Let's get our stuff ready to go." He
watched her a second longer to be sure she wasn't going to add herself to the
injured list, then went and started laying out some of their basic supplies.

	"You guys okay back there?" Lt. Wilson called back. "Looks like we've
got a few minutes. The jumptroops are still on that ridge over there and
it'll take 'em a few minutes to get the first people down. Lt. Gerald and I
are going to stay up here just in case something happens."

	"We're okay," Karen said, "but we're not going to be able to do much
for anybody until the shuttle's pressurized."

	"Let's get everybody on-board first and locked down." Lt. Wilson
replied. "Then depending on the situation at that time we might be able to
linger long enough to stabilize some people. Anything on the scope, Lt.
Gerald?"

	"Nope, looks like we're the only ones here."

	"Alright then," the pilot said, "let's open up the doors and roll out
the red carpet."

	"I would prefer that you not do that," a voice commanded behind them.
Karen saw James whirl around and draw his blaster. Before he could fire, he
was shot in the shoulder.



	The blaster fire endangering the jumptroops gradually slowed, then
ceased. Crow Mengele knelt by one of the rifle stands, making sure the power
pack was disconnected. He looked up as Tom Jose joined him. "Now what?" Crow
asked.

	Tom straightened and looked over at the evac shuttle. No movement or
communication since it had landed over ten minutes ago. Tom figured the crew
was already dead. Pirates don't take prisoners.

	"We need to get that ship back," he said. He looked back, where
members of the Sierra-Three platoon were checking on their Baker-Two
comrades. "We leave the wounded and mount an assault before they can get the
shuttle off the ground." He glanced down at Crow. "No matter what, that
shuttle doesn't leave unless we're flying her." Crow nodded.

	"Sierra-Three," Crow called out. "Muster up."

	The platoon gathered round as Tom sketched a rough map in the fine
powder covering the surface. "We're here," he pointed, "and the shuttle is
here." A rock was dropped into place to represent the shuttle. He looked up
at the platoon. "I have reason to believe that the pirates who set this up
have taken the evac shuttle." Nobody said anything and a couple of people
nodded. "We're gonna get it back."



	"Hatches closed and locked, Hurral," one of the pirates reported.
"And I've also blocked all communications from this vessel."

	"Excellent, Cynan." Hurral said. He gestured at the prisoners with
his blaster. "Move over there and kneel with your hands behind your heads."

	The pirate guarding the pilots searched them roughly and forced them
to their knees. Karen did not move, holding her hand over James' torn suit.

	"Did you not hear me, woman?" Hurral spat with irritation. "Move over
there and put your hands behind your head."

	"He'll die if I do," she said, shaking her head. "His suit's torn
where you shot him."

	Hurral laughed. "Then he will die," Hurral told her. "Now move!" He
gestured again with blaster.

	"No," Karen said stubbornly, "not until you've pressurized the
shuttle."

	"You try my patience," the pirate said angrily. He moved closer to
her, pointing his blaster directly at her face. "Stand."

	Karen shook her head mutinously and remained by the nurse. The
pirate's hand was shaking and the blaster wavered. Karen held her breath.

	The pirate laughed suddenly and lowered his weapon. "Very well,
then," he said. "Cynan, pressurize this vessel. I have a desire to see their
faces as they die."



	"Wonder why they haven't launched yet," Crow said as he crouched with
Tom Jose and Robert Preston about 100 meters from the stern of the shuttle.
The rest of the platoon was fanning out while the officers tried to find some
vulnerability in the shuttle's defense.

	Robert scanned the surrounding area again, then swung back to examine
the shuttle. "No sign of activity at all," he said, "hostile or otherwise."

	"Maybe the crew did some damage before they went down," Crow
suggested. He flipped his binoc lenses down and looked closely for any
weakness in the shuttle armor they could use to their advantage.



	"Let me put him out of his misery," Hurral asked the pilots. "Give me
the access code for the main engine start sequence." He held James up by the
hair. James groaned and tried weakly to sit up. Hurral pinned him down by
stepping on one of his broken arms and slammed his face against the deck for
the fourth time. His body jerked once, then was still. Hurral knelt down and
check for the pulse in his neck.

	"Unconscious," he sneered in disgust. "He is weak." Standing, he drew
his blaster and shot James in the back of the head where he lay.

	"No!" Karen cried out and rushed at him, but Cynan jumped down from
the cockpit and grabbed her around the waist.

	"Not so fast, bychan," he said, swinging her around. The dark-haired
pirate held her tightly as she struggled, and pinned her arms in front of her
body.

	Hurral pointed the blaster at Lt. Wilson. "Give me the access code,"
he said, "or die."

	"I will die anyway," Lt. Wilson said calmly. He was pale but
determined not to let the small pirate band have the shuttle.

	Hurral grinned and leaned in close. "Ah," he said softly, "but there
are many ways to die." He straightened, and smiled down at the two men. White
teeth flashed in his bushy red beard. "Cynan, bring me the woman."



	"See that?" Tom asked Crow fifteen minutes later. "The aft engine
access hatch. Get in through the main engine crawlspace and you've got access
to the ship." He shrugged. "Can only get in one at a time, but they may not
be expecting it."

	"Yeah, I see it," Crow said. He dialed in for a closer magnification.
"There's something attached to the external controls." He frowned. "Looks
like somebody else had the same idea and beat us to it."

	Tom switched lenses as well. "Damn," he said. He was silent a moment.
"I don't see any other way," he said. "If they're distracted elsewhere we
might stand a chance. Crow, I want you and Preston to take six troopers and
get in through that hatch. I don't care how."

	"It may take a little extra time if there's a device," Crow warned.

	"We'll try and give you the time you need," Tom said.

	"Just don't damage the shuttle too badly," Crow grinned.



	Karen knelt in line with the pilots, trying to stifle her sobs. She
couldn't look away from James' body where it lay before her. Beside her she
heard the sound of a blaster fire and a thud as Lt. Gerald's body hit the
deck. Tears mingled with the blood running down Karen's swollen face. It
stung and burned in the cuts on her cheek and split lip.

	Out of the corner of her eye Karen saw the dark specter of Death move
closer to her, pointing his blaster at Lt. Wilson. Soon she would be joining
them. This was not how she had envisioned dying, beaten and bruised on some
alien moon. She clasped her fingers tighter behind her neck, trying to stop
their trembling.

	"Cynan," Hurral called down angrily from the cockpit, "the code does
not work!" Cynan lowered his blaster. Lt. Wilson closed his eyes with regret.

	"Do you want to use the woman again?" Cynan asked. Karen cried out in
fear and cowered where she knelt. She began sobbing uncontrollably.

	"No," Hurral growled, "obviously I overestimated the chivalry of the
ExoFleet. Just kill her," he ordered. "Then do whatever is necessary to get
that code!"

	Karen saw the pirate glide toward her. She looked helplessly up into
his face, searching for any sign of mercy there. It was like looking at a
marble statue. This was it. No goodbyes. No chance to tell her father she
loved him. No more new experiences, no more knowledge to savor. No mate. No
children to bear. Just like that.

	Suddenly she would do anything to live.

	"No," she begged, "Please." Cynan raised his blaster. She noticed
inanely that his eyes were deepest brown.

	"Please, don't kill me," she pleaded. "I don't want to die!" She
looked up at him, wild-eyed, begging him with everything in her to spare her
life. Death faced her, final and fatal.

	The blaster touched her cheek, and slowly traced down along her jaw.
She felt cold metal brush across her lips. For a moment Karen dared to both
hope and fear that he had found a use for her.

	"What a waste," he said. The blaster moved to her forehead. Karen
felt it burning there and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. She couldn't help
the sobs that ripped through her.

	"Please," she whispered. Her eyes flew open.

	"Wait!" she cried. He raised an eyebrow at her.

	"I... I can help you," she stammered. "I have something. Something
valuable!" The pirate studied her but did not lower the blaster. Nor,
however, did he pull the trigger. Hope blazed.

	She swallowed hard. "My hand." Her voice was harsh and low. She could
barely get the words out, her throat raw from screaming.

	"My left hand," she said, slowly lowering her arms from behind her
head. Carefully she removed the suit's gauntlet, revealing the device
engulfing her left arm. She raised it slowly for him to see.

	"What is it?" he asked. The blaster did not waver from her forehead.

	"A... a medical glove," she gasped. "New technology." Tears streamed
down her face.

	He seemed to hesitate.

	"Military technology," she added.
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concluded with Part 5