Andromeda shut all of the panels carefully and tucked the tools she had borrowed back into the toolbox. In the middle distance, she could feel William's steady presence, muted by distance and exertion, but comforting, like the voice of a loved one you heard before you saw, a signal that told her body and brain that things were fine, and normal, and safe.
His reassurance loosened the cold knot of fear that the klaxons had tangled in her gut -- a little. What the pirates were after, Andromeda did not rightly know. This ship seemed beat to hell and even in its best condition didn't seem like much of a prize. Not worth the hassle, not likely to fetch much for sale. Then why come back?
Her mind went to
Pegasus...
Her pulse quickened.
"Jethro," she said sternly, a durasteel spine underlying the youthful softness of her voice.
"Take me back to the airlock we came from. And tell me -- is there another on this ship?"
"Another airlock?" Jethro echoed as he turned toward the door.
"Oh yes-yes, Knight Andromeda. The dorsal lock."
"That's -- on the top, right?" she asked.
"Keep that torch, Jethro, we may need it. And call me Andy."
They set off, retracing their steps, and Jethro confirmed that the other airlock was on the top of the ship. When they reached the common area where she and William had emerged, about ten civilian passengers and half again as many crewmen had gathered there, chattering, dressing minor wounds, loitering. Their anxiety and nervousness radiated from them in the Force like waves. "Has there been any sign of the pirates?" she asked, raising her voice to be heard. There had been none.
"They may be after this ship," Andromeda said, gesturing toward the airlock.
"It's a better idea if you stay clear of it."
She weaved into the crowd and used the keycard -- a twin to the one William carried -- and secured the airlock. It wouldn't necessarily stop the pirates, but it might just slow them down.
It depended on how many people they were willing to kill.
"Which way to the bridge?" she asked Jethro.
A few minutes later, with William's presence ahead of her, Andromeda and Jethro were heading toward it. But before they could reach it, there was shouting from a four-way intersection ahead, and a trio of passengers ran screaming across the corridor, right to left. A blaster bolt followed, then a second, and then a pair of raggedy men followed, one hoisting a blaster, the other a staff of some kind in one hand, a blaster in the other. Before the man could fire the blaster, Andromeda yanked it from his hand in the Force, and it bounced off the other man's head on its journey toward her. Both turned, agape.
There was no quip, no opening gambit. Andromeda's lightsaber was in her hand, vivid blue-green bathing her features. She reached into the Force, let it steady her -- and immediately felt the presence of the stragglers from downstairs, the civilians, following them up. Andromeda didn't turn away from the threat to tell Jethro:
"Stop them. It's not safe here. Yet." Jethro skittered back the way they came. She touched her earpiece.
"They're on board."
"A Jeeeeedi," the man with the staff grinned, extending the first syllable.
"What fun."
He raised his blaster. Andromeda batted both bolts away easily --
thank you, Master, for your very insistent training, she thought wryly -- and then reached for it. He was prepared for that, and his grip tightened, but Andromeda was prepared for
that, and so did hers. The barrel creaked as it bent -- just as he fired. The trapped energy caused the weapon to misfire, and the heat seared at his hand, forcing him to drop it before it erupted with a
pnnnf! on the deckplates.
"Stand down," Andromeda called across the space between them, about seven meters.
"And no one else has to get hurt."
"You think your laser sword scares me, lady?" the man asked, spreading his heavily tattooed arms, staff swiveling in one hand as he walked leisurely toward her. The second man followed, glancing at staff-man anxiously. Andromeda pieced together the dynamic: the one with the staff was the superior, maybe even the leader of the whole operation.
"I think it should," Andromeda answered coolly. She stood her ground, allowing them to approach.
"This will be the last warning either of you get. Don't force me to -- " She let out a gasp as she felt a sharp pain in her arm, almost before the second man's hand moved. The throwing knife had left a superficial but stinging slice through her tunic sleeve and into her upper arm.
The hard way it is, Andromeda said, centering herself in the Force. She felt rather than saw the next blade coming, and but she definitely saw it reverse course, lodging in the second man's eye, causing blood to geyser from him. He screamed, staggering, and then collapsed forward and was still.
In the kerfuffle, staff man advanced. He did not finesse. He swung his staff like a shockball stick at her in a sweeping movement. Andromeda was puzzled at why someone would do something so foolhardy against an opponent with a lightsaber, but her question was answered when her blade did not, in fact, slice cleanly through the staff, but instead bounced off it until she pressed with her strength, causing it to sizzle along the edges.
Two stops on this trip. Two lightsaber-resistant weapons. What were the odds?
"Surprised?" leered the man. Even his face was tattooed. He was ugly as sin.
"You're not special," Andromeda answered, and kicked him as hard as she could in the shin. He grunted and staggered back, then recovered and lunged. Andromeda feinted back, then aimed a jabbing thrust at his side, burning a hole through his jacket. He howled his rage, a nice little garnish for the hateful emotions pouring into the Force. She noticed his recovery too late to avoid it, but with enough time to turn and take the painful blow to the back of her leg instead of the front, already bending her knees so that she used the momentum to throw herself over a turned-over utility cart, coming up almost-smoothly on the other side, grip tightening on her lightsaber.
"This is already over," she told him.
"The question now is whether you live to change your ways. It's entirely up to you."
He lurched toward her, and she harnessed the Force to hurl the cart at him, the cleaning solvents going hither and yon. She was in the intersection now. The civilians the pirates had been chasing were hunkered behind an overturned table, peeking over.
"Stay down," Andromeda barked, bringing her lightsaber up defensively.