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to the great god in the sky!"

He unsheathed his sword. It had two blades that almost touched, parallel to each other. Clicking an activation button on the hilt, blue sparks jumped and danced between the blades like a mini-lightning storm — an "arc blade," not a plasma sword. Juarez pointed the arc blade skyward.

As if on cue, two spacecraft appeared in the sky with a thunderclap, having folded directly into the atmosphere — a highly desperate and illegal action that Dirken knew would be a dangerous but effective way to evade the orbital defense grid that had fought the Raptores.

Even from this great distance, he immediately recognized the black ships: a brigantine and a corvette. The Bloodhawk had arrived!

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

AVA

"That bastard doesn't give up, does he?" Dirken asked.

Yiorgos rolled over and looked up as well. "Oh! Well… you nearly killed him, Dirk. Knowing a pirate or two, I'd say it's not just about the Heart anymore. It's personal, now."

"Get him into the chamber," Juarez shouted to the Acolytes, pointing at Yiorgos with the arc blade, then at the doorway into the stone building. "Now!"

Weed and the yeoman hefted Yiorgos to his feet and half-dragged him toward the opening so fast the cyborg stumbled. "Watch it!" Yiorgos complained. "I can walk." He looked down at his injured leg. "Well, limp, at least."

Juarez stepped behind them, glancing up again toward the two spacecraft. Distracted.

Dirken met Yiorgos's eyes and saw a resolve there, a message that now was the time. He gave the barest nod of agreement.

Momentarily acting as if he were woozy and taking a step to steady himself, Dirken threw himself forward. As Weed raised his blaster, Dirken rolled to his right, turning into his body and elbowed him in the face.

Weed fired, but the shot went wide, blasting off a part of the stone crown on top of the building. He stumbled backward and tried to aim again, but Dirken was ready. He jumped and delivered a massive side kick to Weed's torso. The Acolyte flew backward and hurtled over the side, tumbling down the stairs and screaming in a staccato of pain with each thump until suddenly going silent.

"Told you I'd kill you first, fuck-face," he muttered.

Yiorgos head-butted the blond yeoman, but then Dirken's attention was on Juarez.

The Governor swung his arc blade. Dirken arched his back. Pulled away just enough. The tip of the blade sliced cleanly through the front of his shirt.

Juarez jabbed. Just as the blade seemed ready to stab through Dirken's chest, he dropped. Twisted. Swept his leg around. The electrified blade passed overhead as Dirken's ankle made contact with Juarez's knee. The Governor cried out and dropped to his knee.

Dirken grabbed the man's sword arm. Twisted his wrist in a joint-locking move. Wrested the sword from his grip.

He grabbed Juarez's hair and pulled his head back. Put the arc blade to the Governor's throat. The blade cut through part of the beard, the hair sizzling and popping, burning with a sulfurous odor. The blade vibrated in Dirken's hand, the energy barely contained.

"Don't do it!" the Aussie shouted. She had Yiorgos held in front of her, one hand around the cyborg's throat and the other holding a blaster to his Yiorgos's head. The blond yeoman lay unconscious on the stone floor. Three other acolytes had also pulled their blasters, one aimed at Yiorgos, the others at Dirken.

"Release him," Dirken demanded, sweat trickling down his face, "or your priest loses his head!"

"What's your plan, mate?" she asked, her voice calm. "Kill him? What do you think we'll do with your friend, here? What do you think we'll do with you?"

Juarez gingerly raised his hands. "This is needless," he said. "Drop the sword and I promise your partner won't be injured." Dirken didn't move. The blade continued to burn into the beard. "Come now, amigo," Juarez continued. "My life does not matter. They will proceed with the ceremony with or without me."

On that cue, the Aussie dragged Yiorgos backward until they stopped at the doorway. Meanwhile, the other Acolytes started circling around to either side of Dirken and the Governor, flanking them. Dirken looked each way and considered his options. He could kill Juarez and then try to fight them off, but he was outnumbered and outgunned. Don't bring an arc blade to a blasterfight, he thought. And trying to make a run for it down the pyramid was likely to end in his death, not to mention leaving Yiorgos to face them alone.

"Mmmm," Juarez said. "You are outnumbered. Your chances are slim. But I stand by my word. If you do as we say, we will not kill you. But if you fight, we will fight back and you will not survive."

Juarez's bodyguard came out, but not to help his boss. Instead, he took Yiorgos by the arm and pushed him into a metal frame bolted onto the wall there. Yiorgos shoved at him, weakened and pale as he was, but the bodyguard slammed him back. With the Aussie's help, he tightened straps around the cyborg's torso, arms, and legs, until he was immobile.

"Get your fucking hands off him!" Dirken yelled, but they didn't stop, and the other Acolytes continued to step closer.

Dirken took half a step back, pulling the sword and cutting through the beard. Juarez jumped as an arc of electricity briefly shocked him from the blade, but the sword didn't cut skin. The Acolytes stopped inching closer.

"Which is it, amigo? Let me go and live, and witness AVA's triumphant return? Or kill me and be killed? There is no escape. Either way, your friend will survive."

Dirken groaned. He stood no chance. He tossed the sword to the stones and let Juarez loose. The Governor scrambled forward, grabbed the arc blade, and turned to look back at Dirken. Then, seeing that Dirken had surrendered, he stood up. His beard was now lopsided, a jagged triangle of it missing, the ends still smoldering. Acolytes came up to Dirken and

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