“Thanks,” I said. “That might come in handy.”
We constructed makeshift forts to hide behind, leaving narrow gaps between the crates through which we could spot any hostiles. The thought of my comrades firing on people I’d served alongside made my gut clench.
A jangling sense of wrongness pricked at my nerves. And no wonder. Not only was our ship badly damaged, not only was Jang’s presence bringing us ill fortune, but we were making matters worse by rearranging the crates haphazardly. The gi flows throughout the ship had to be going completely haywire. But it couldn’t be helped. I just hoped we wouldn’t be stung by disaster at the worst moment.
The ship’s clocks were down, but the helmet’s air gauges gave me a way to estimate how much time had passed. Scarcely an hour, though it seemed like much longer. The combination of shadows and weightlessness and the unwavering green glow of the chemical light made me feel as though I’d become unanchored from the outside world. I couldn’t give in to that sensation, though. I had to stay alert.
I felt a faint vibration. I took off my helmet and listened. There was a slight hum in the air. I replaced my helmet, then motioned to Chul to get his attention. “I think they’re coming,” I said in a low voice.
The others didn’t question my sharp hearing. The engineer gave us just enough time to take up our positions behind the floating walls of crates, then snuffed out the chemical lights. Violet afterimages danced and flickered in my vision. I heard myself breathing too fast. My attempts at meditation didn’t help, not when the vibrations were getting stronger.
Finally there came the sound of metal screeching, and a clank that I was sure even the others could hear. Captain Hwan and his crew must have breached our hull.
Sweat dampened my palms and trickled down my back. Part of me wished the boarding party would hurry up already. But I knew from drills on the Pale Lightning that they’d be trained to proceed carefully, checking for ambushes and traps as they went.
Clomp, clomp, clomp. Not just one set of footsteps, but several. I held my breath, trying to figure out how many people were coming. The pilot had crouched down and pressed his helmet to the deck in a vain attempt to hear better, which I only discovered when I bumped into him by mistake. Like all fox spirits, I had good vision in low light, but this was no light. In total darkness I had to rely on other senses. And Jang presumably was saving his warnings for real threats so I wouldn’t accidentally blast one of the mercs.
At last the hatch to the hold opened, and a piercing, blue-tinted beam sliced through the darkness. I squinted so it wouldn’t blind me. The pilot and engineer raised their blasters to the shooting holes we’d made.
I waited for shadows to fall across the threshold, for Jang’s warning touch. If we were really lucky, maybe the boarding party would make the mistake of silhouetting themselves against the blue light, making themselves easy targets. It didn’t look like they were going to commit such a basic error, however.
A familiar voice hissed from the corridor: Captain Hwan’s. I’d been expecting him to shout, or roar, but he spoke so quietly that I had to strain to hear him. The effect caused my skin to prickle.
“Scholar Chul,” Captain Hwan said in his deep voice. “And Gumiho.” I couldn’t help biting my lip when he said that. “In a moment I am going to send in a couple of people to accept your surrender.”
My glance went to the engineer, who was shaking her head dubiously, then to the pilot, whose brow was furrowed in concern. None of us trusted the captain. There had to be some kind of trick involved.
Two figures marched through the entrance, their shadows cutting across the floor. A faint, wavering glow in the air told me that they had personal shields. I didn’t know how much blaster fire it would take to overwhelm the armor. We might have to find out the hard way.
It took me a moment to identify the soldiers. They were backlit, and the light reflecting off the crates’ surfaces didn’t do a very good job of revealing their faces, especially through their helmets. But once I got used to the alien-looking combat suits, I knew exactly who they were. The one on the left was Sujin. The one on the right, Haneul.
“No!” Jang cried in anguish, loudly enough to be heard by everyone.
The mercs glanced about wildly, but I had no attention to spare for them.
Neither Sujin nor Haneul was armed. That didn’t make sense. Unless . . .
“I have learned,” Captain Hwan went on, his voice still soft, “that Cadets Sujin and Haneul failed to recognize the intruder in our midst.”
I couldn’t help it. I sucked in my breath and stared wide-eyed at my friends. Former friends, I assumed, since they now knew that I wasn’t Jang. Was Hwan holding them hostage? He wouldn’t. . . .
He would. “Gumiho, if you and your comrades surrender to the cadets,” Captain Hwan said, “you will be treated fairly. As long as you cooperate with our operations.”
Bile rose in my throat. I had a pretty good idea of what Hwan meant by “cooperation,” at least from me. Surely he’d figured out that I was, if not related to Jun, connected to him somehow.
Chul squared his shoulders. I could tell he was tempted by Hwan’s offer. I couldn’t blame him, to be honest. At the same time, I couldn’t imagine this ending well for any of us.
Instead of capitulating, though, Chul signaled to his two comrades, and they raised their blasters. My heart almost plunged to the deck. But they didn’t fire, not yet.
“If you don’t come with me,” Captain Hwan said, “the cadets will be court-martialed for treason. Right here. Possibly even executed.”
What? This was insane! “You can’t do that!” I shouted.
Sujin’s expression was stubbornly impassive. Haneul looked stricken, and lightning crackled around her.
Chul squeezed his eyes shut.
“In deep space, a captain’s word is law,” Hwan returned. His voice never wavered from its eerie calm. “I have to be able to rely on my crew. Any real cadet knows that.”
I flinched.
The engineer mouthed, Should we? at Chul.
Chul shook his head and mouthed back, They’re unarmed. It made me think better of him.
“All right,” I said in defeat. I couldn’t let Captain Hwan kill Sujin and Haneul, who had done nothing wrong.
I heard Jang’s sigh of relief.
Chul reached for my shoulder to hold me back, but I slipped past him. “I’m coming out. Don’t shoot.”
I started to speak to Haneul and Sujin, but the dragon only stared stonily at me. Sujin wouldn’t meet my eyes. Hwan didn’t bother putting restraints on me, which made sense. Given my shape-shifting abilities, handcuffs wouldn’t slow me down. Regardless, I didn’t want to get the cadets into even more trouble by slipping out of his grasp.
The march to the breach in the ship’s hull and into one of the Pale Lightning’s sealed airlocks took only minutes, but it felt much longer. I had to put the helmet back on, which frustrated me, because it dulled my senses. I had a little difficulty walking in the magnetic boots, which had a stronger pull than the ones I’d worn on the Pale Lightning, but I wasn’t about to admit that.
“All right,” Jang’s voice said inside my helmet. Although he spoke in a whisper, I jumped. “This is where we part ways. Thank you for leading me to these mercs. I’ll have fun haunting them.”
“Wait—” I started, but I couldn’t feel his cold presence around me anymore. Desolation overcame me. We’d been coconspirators, in a sense, and now he was gone. Since I was no longer borrowing his form, Jang had no reason to stick close to me. While he’d originally been interested in finding out about the specific pirates who’d caused his death, it now appeared that he’d become more generally vengeful toward the whole category. I didn’t envy Chul and his comrades.
Behind me, soldiers were escorting Chul and the other two prisoners. Sorry for siccing a ghost on you, I thought in their direction.
I craned my head but didn’t catch sight of Captain Hwan. I couldn’t use my sense of smell to track him, either. At a guess, he was with the other soldiers, too. My shoulder blades tingled unpleasantly.
The Pale Lightning’s airlock was vaster than the other ship’s. I fought a surge of panic at being surrounded by soldiers. They could easily gun me down. One of the lieutenants gestured sharply at Haneul and Sujin, and they stepped back, leaving me alone in the center.
Captain Hwan strode forward to loom over me. I’d already been sweating, and this didn’t help. It took all my courage not to shrink from his ruthless predator’s glare. I wished for claws and sharp teeth—but I knew that even if my friends’ lives weren’t at stake, there was no way I could best Hwan in a physical fight. If I was going to escape this situation, I’d have to do it another way.
“Captain Hwan,” I said, bowing courteously. I was glad that my voice didn’t quaver—much.