He lifted a hand and touched her cheek. “It is my duty to protect you.”
“Well, you’ll have to settle for us protecting each other.”
“Hey?” Alara’s voice interrupted them. “You two get in here and look around this ship. If more ice falls, it can fall on you.”
The pirate leader was a bitch. Colm was going to enjoy making her pay for this.
Alara used a knife to slice through Honor’s ropes and free her hands. Then the pirate slapped a large, well-used flashlight into Honor’s palm.
Colm and Honor climbed in through the hole in the wall where the ship was nestled. The dull metal of its hull was covered in a slick layer of ice. Something had torn a hole in the back end of the ship and the front was badly damaged from the crash.
“We can go in through the tear,” Honor suggested.
There was jagged metal along the edge of the hole. Colm gripped the edges and bent them back, making it safer for Honor. Then he followed her inside.
Honor clicked on the light, shining it around.
“My God,” she breathed.
It was like the inside had been frozen in time. As though the occupants had just left. Colm saw benches topped with various tools, devices similar to Syncs, and even mugs and plates from someone’s half-finished snack. Things were jumbled around, clearly the result of the crash, but many things were still in place.
They moved out of the hangar and into a corridor. Through a glass window, Colm spotted chairs attached to the floor and pushed up against built-in desks. Cupboard doors hung open, revealing the jumbled items inside.
They moved deeper into the ship, eventually passing through a doorway into the cockpit.
Honor straightened. Ahead, sitting in the captain’s chair, was a body that had been preserved by the cold.
“By the warrior,” Colm breathed. He scanned the cockpit and saw there were more bodies, still strapped into their chairs.
“They never made it out,” Honor said. “They died right here.”
No, it wasn’t like on Markaria, where the survivors of the Excalibur had made it out and gone on to make some sort of life for themselves.
“It was too cold,” she said. “They had nowhere to go.” She looked around, her hands sliding over objects. She touched the comp system briefly, then she shook her head. “It’s frozen solid. Come on, let’s go look at the cargo bay.”
He followed her back through the ship. There was so much history here. How different things could have been if this ship hadn’t crashed, or if its sister ship hadn’t crash-landed on his world.
For a second, a part of him wondered what it would have been like if he hadn’t been cursed with the nanami sickness. But without the nanami his ancestors had granted his people, Markarians would never have existed. He wouldn’t have existed, and for this brief time, Honor wouldn’t have been his.
“Here it is,” Honor said. The double doors were closed. She pushed at them, trying to slide the heavy panels open. They didn’t budge.
Colm pulled her back. He wedged his fingers into the groove between the two doors and shoved outward with all his strength.
The doors opened with a screech.
The cargo bay loomed beyond. Their steps echoed on the floor as they entered.
“By the Warrior’s sword.” Colm had never seen anything like it before.
“Stars,” Honor murmured.
It filled the entire cargo bay.
Treasure.
Honor couldn’t believe it. It was an ancient Terran treasure trove. There were suits of armor, various weapons, gold, statues. It filled every inch of the space. Her gaze skimmed over it. The contents of the hold were worth a huge fortune.
Footsteps sounded behind them, and Alara walked into the cargo bay. “Woohoo!” She cackled with gleeful, greedy joy.
Her remaining pirates followed her in and started cheering. A few rushed forward, holding large bags. It took them mere seconds to start cramming the smaller treasures inside.
Anger swamped Honor. She watched a pirate carelessly drop an artifact on the floor. The golden statue broke in half.
“That is a piece of history you just destroyed,” Honor said, her voice tight.
Alara laughed and the sound echoed in the confines of the ship. “You mean it’s a mountain of e-creds he just ruined.” She reached out and backhanded the pirate who’d dropped the artifact. “Be more careful, or your share goes down.”
Honor’s hands curled into fists. It was her job to stop this and protect these artifacts. She glanced at Colm and saw the echoing glint in his eyes.
“Fighting with you will never get old, little warrior,” he said quietly.
“Ready?”
“Always.”
Together, they launched into an attack. With hard chops of her arms, Honor took down the pirate closest to her. Colm stormed forward, his massive fists weapons in themselves.