Rivers of Orion by Dana Kelly (a court of thorns and roses ebook free .TXT) 📕

Torsha dragged the unconscious buccaneer into a nearby room. As she tied him up with a set of bedsheets she’d found, Mike and Nimbus hurried to join the procession. “Where’d you go?” asked the pirate. He was a snow white ocelini with a slight build and loose clothing. Glancing sidelong, he reared back. “Wait, who the hell are you? What’s going on?”

“Changing of the guard,” said Mike. He smiled and smashed his weapon into the ocelini’s teeth. After another blow to the head, the pirate collapsed, and Mike scooped up his rifle. Torsha emerged and exchanged nods with Mike. He looked pointedly at the other pirate.

“I just got done tying the first guy up,” she said.

“Torsha, please?”

Rolling her eyes, she rushed over to drag the ocelini buccaneer away.

Moving quickly, Mike caught up to the rearmost crewmember. He hissed quietly, drawing her attention. “Here,” he said, and he handed her the rifles. “Find someone who can use these.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“How many are there?”

“I don’t know,” said the crewmember. “There’s at least two more port side, near the Deck 2 ladder. One of them’s in a mech suit, so be careful.”

Mike nodded. “Where did they breach?”

She shrugged and shook her head. “Sorry.”

“Not to worry.” He placed his hands on the rifles and lightly pushed. “Good luck!” He dashed along the passageway, retracing his steps, and Nimbus followed.

Torsha pulled a set of sheets from a recessed bunk bed and hurried over to the incapacitated ocelini. She spun around on Mike and Nimbus as they entered the room, and she breathed a sigh of relief. “What did you find out?” she asked.

He pointed across the way. “There are at least two more hostiles in that direction. They’re doing something with the Deck 2 ladder, most likely trying to cut off access to the lower decks. Since this ship uses symmetrical overrides, it’s safe to assume there’s a starboard side team trying to do the same.”

“Oh, right,” said Torsha. “Of course. Symmetrical whatever you just said.”

“It’s a security feature,” said Mike.

“He’s right, you know,” said the ocelini, startling his captors, and he pulled a ring-shaped device from the small of his back. In a flash, he swung it around and held it in place next to Nimbus. Electrical jags arced between Nimbus and the device. “Soon as we take the bridge, all those folks down there are dead!”

“Miguel Santos, our opponent has active… an… he has activated,” said Nimbus. He made a terrible clicking noise as he tried to continue.

“A repurposer,” said Mike. “Stay calm, Nimbus. It’s going to be all right.” He glared at the ocelini, watching his every move as the bloodied pirate got back to his feet. “Let him go.”

“Oh, it’s a ‘him,’ is it? Sounds like you got a little too cozy with your hardware,” said the pirate. He squeezed the device’s grip, and the jolts intensified. “Well, if you care that much about this thing, I’d think real hard about getting down on your knees with your hands behind your head. Both of you.”

“M-M-Miguel Santos, I…!” Nimbus’s voice vanished in a collision of pops and static.

Mike breathed coolly, evenly. His gaze remained fixed on the pirate. “I won’t ask again.”

The buccaneer smiled wickedly. “Neither will I. One more squeeze, and you can kiss your little sentry bot goodbye.”

Mike closed his eyes. Drawing a deep breath, he nodded and slowly descended to his knees.

“Great,” muttered Torsha, and she knelt beside Mike.

“Good. That’s good,” said the pirate, and he kicked the bedsheets over to Torsha. “Tie up your friend. Wrists and ankles. Now!”

Torsha flinched and glared at him. Electricity snaked over Nimbus. “Fine,” she said, and she reached for the bedsheets.

“Torsha M-M-Madagan, you mussst not,” sputtered Nimbus.

“He’ll kill you if I don’t,” said Torsha.

A smile formed in Nimbus’s front plating. “M-M-Miguel, Torsha, I choose to s-s-save… you,” he said. Sparks flared from his joints as the repuroser pulled one of his legs from his body. “Live well, always.” He dispersed, and electricity flooded each of his individual nanobots.

An instant later, Nimbus snapped back in the form of a dull metal orb.

It dropped to the deck with a lifeless thud.

“No!” howled Mike. He attacked the ocelini pirate with unbridled fury, landing blow after blow upon his opponent’s stomach, chest, and neck. In a blind rage, he pummeled the buccaneer’s face, until Torsha finally pulled him off.

Tears flowed from Mike’s eyes, and blood dripped from his knuckles.

“Hey,” said Torsha, and she hugged him close. “Take a deep breath.” She pressed Nimbus’s remains into Mike’s hands. “Just take a deep breath and try to relax.”

Mike withdrew from Torsha’s embrace. He lifted the orb to eye level. Tears streamed down his cheeks. “Nimbus, why did you do that?” Tenderly, he ran his hands along its surface. He sniffed, and his voice croaked as he pleaded, “What were you thinking?”

“He might still be alive,” said Torsha.

Mike glared at her, though only briefly.

She shrugged. “Hey, we don’t know.” She pushed against his chest. “He might be. Don’t give up on him.”

“I won’t,” said Mike, and he wiped his eyes and nose. “I really hope you’re right.” He slipped the orb inside his jacket pocket.

Torsha squatted beside the pirate and gingerly poked at him. “You really fucked this guy up,” she whispered. “Jesus, Mike, I think he’s dead!”

He looked at his hands. “Yeah, well, he kind of deserved it.” Unhurried, he approached the bathroom sink and rinsed the blood from his knuckles.

“I don’t know.” She stood up and cleared her throat. “Maybe.”

They heard gunfire from somewhere far away, followed by the terrified cries of the crew.

Mike dried off his hands. “We have work to do. One of the crewmembers warned me about a mech pilot over by the port hatch. We should probably deal with that first, then the starboard hatch, and finally the mess deck. Are you okay for that?”

“Why the mess deck?” asked Torsha.

“It’s the only place large enough to accommodate that many people, and since they already marched the