Negasi groaned and ran his hand across his face, coming away with blood.

He opened his eyes. For a moment, everything was blurry. His head and neck ached. He blinked a few times and the objects around him came into focus.

That didn't make him feel any better.

He was hanging upside down, suspended by his seatbelt. All the car's windows were cracked so badly he could barely see out them. Jeridan was out cold beside him and the two cops up front weren't moving either.

Even worse, he could hear the battle raging all around him.

Even worse than that, he smelled smoke.

He struggled out of his seatbelt, holding himself up with one hand, so that when he fell he didn't hit his aching head and go unconscious again. The door on Jeridan's side was buckled, a bit of the road visible between the door and the frame. Negasi crawled over to it, brushing against his friend, and tried to push it.

No dice.

He checked on Jeridan. He was breathing but it didn't look like he would wake up anytime soon.

Typical. Sleeping on the job and leaving him with all the hard work.

Negasi got on his back and kicked at the door with his good leg. It gave a centimeter.

He kicked again. Another centimeter.

"Come on, already! I need some action here."

A bullet thunked into the side of the police car.

"That's not what I meant! Good thing this thing's bulletproof."

It's not rocket-propelled grenade proof. Hope those guys don't decide to kick a man while he's down.

Negasi kept slamming his foot into the door, which gave a little each time until finally it stuck for good. No matter how hard Negasi kicked, the door wouldn't budge another millimeter. There was just enough room to squeeze out if he didn't mind tearing his clothes and probably his flesh on the jagged metal.

A bullet hit one of the tires, which deflated with a plaintive whine.

No time to be picky. Negasi grabbed a hold of Jeridan, unbuckled his seatbelt, and eased him down. Then he crawled out of the car. Like he expected, the jagged edge of the door tore at his jumpsuit and gave him some new scrapes to add to his collection.

To his relief, he emerged on the side of the car where the loyalists were. They were unlikely to shoot at him.

Or did he count as an escaping prisoner and fair game?

Hopefully they'd be too busy with the rebels blasting away at their line.

He glanced at the armored car, now a smoking ruin. No way Major Ranier could have made it out of that.

Not far off on the highway, one of the loyalist's trucks was on fire. He didn't see the prisoner van.

He dragged Jeridan out, trying not to get him too scraped up. Gunfire was still coming thick and fast and he lay down in the dubious shelter of the police car, unsure what to do next. To get to the loyalist line would mean dragging Jeridan across about twenty meters of open road in clear view of both sides, something he wouldn't try to do even with two good legs.

Oh, and the crash had opened up his wound again. Blood soaked the bandages and his pants leg. No nanobots in those primitive bandages. He wondered if they were even sterile. Wonderful.

The car still smelled of smoke and he could see a greasy column of smoke coming up from the car's undercarriage. Doubly wonderful.

As the bullets flew past, Negasi peeked through the cracked windows at the two policemen. They were still unconscious, maybe dead. Negasi didn't see a way in to help them.

A rocket streaked by from the rebel position, slamming into the road and sending fragments of pavement in all directions.

"Cack! We can't stay here."

Jeridan rolled over and mumbled something incoherent.

Negasi shook him. "Yo, buddy. We need to get a move on. Not sure where exactly, but we can't stay in the line of fire."

Another incoherent mumble.

The loyalist tank fired again and another house crumbled as the heavy artillery round hit it.

Jeridan rolled over on his side.

"You snore too much," he mumbled.

"I'm not snoring, you idiot. We're in the middle of a battle."

Stolen novel; please report.

"Bottle? There's some on the buffet table. We're heroes."

A bullet thunked into the side of the undercarriage of the vehicle. The smell of smoke grew stronger, and a tongue of flame rose from the engine.

"Jeridan, now's not the time to have a brain injury. We got to get out of here!"

Jeridan rolled over on his other side and farted.

"Looks like it's up to me," Negasi grumbled.

He grabbed his friend under the armpits and started dragging him away from the police car, keeping the wreck between him and the rebel-held houses. That didn't completely obscure them from view, especially as they got further away. He could see plenty of dark windows from which a rebel sniper could take potshots at them.

Negasi tried to hurry, worming his way along the ground, pushing with his one good leg, his other leaving a trail of blood spots, hands gripped around Jeridan, who was really heavy when he was semiconscious.

Flames erupted from the undercarriage of the police car. Negasi threw himself on Jeridan.

Just in time. The car exploded. Negasi felt a wave of searing heat and a shockwave that nearly threw him off his friend.

Negasi hissed with pain as his exposed flesh scorched. It didn't feel as bad as when Nova set off that uranium slug thrower, but it was bad enough.

The shockwave passed. The heatwave settled from scorching to merely agonizing. Negasi checked to see if his jumpsuit and hair were on fire, and was pleasantly surprised to find they were not.

The police car was in flames, a column of smoke billowing up from it and obscuring the view of the rebel position. Negasi started dragging his friend away again.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Jeridan shouted.

"Oh, nice of you to wake up."

"Ugh, my head hurts worse than a hangover from Rigellian brandy. Where are … oh."

Jeridan looked around and caught up with recent events.

"We need to get out of here," Jeridan said.

"Stunningly insightful analysis."

Jeridan looked at Negasi's leg. "Can you walk?"

"No."

"I'll help you."

Jeridan tried to get to his feet and landed on his rear.

"Ugh, that hurt," he said, cradling his head. "OK, let's help each other."

They crawled along, each helping the other, as bullets sang through the air above their heads and to either side. The tank sent a few more rounds into the buildings and the rebel fire began to slacken. Negasi waved at the soldiers as they got closer to the highway, hoping they wouldn't get fired on.

One of the soldiers waved them over.

Nice of you to decide against a summary execution. I wonder if Major Ranier shared with you who we were. Maybe he didn't have time. Maybe his loss will be our gain.

They stumbled, crawled, and ducked fire for another two dozen meters before finally getting behind the raised highway. A sergeant crawled over to them, keeping his head low to avoid enemy fire. He hunkered down beside them. In his hand he gripped a pistol that he didn't point directly at them, just near them.

"The cops in the car with you, what happened to them?"

"Killed in the crash," Negasi said, not sure if that was true. It didn't make a difference now.

The sergeant didn't look entirely convinced. He looked them over.

"Spacers."

"Yes. We were arrested on a misunderstanding."

"Uh-huh."

Now the sergeant looked even less convinced.

Negasi got an idea.

"Yeah, we were. That's why Major Ranier put us in the police car and not the wagon. He wanted to get us out of there."

"Poor man," Jeridan said, bowing his head and putting his hand on his heart.

Don't overdo it, dummy.

The sergeant called over to a band of privates who were aiming over the berm of the highway, looking for targets. The fire had ebbed from a sustained roar to an intermittent crackle.

"Hey, guys! Any of you got handcuffs?"

That's not a promising sign.

The soldiers all shook their heads.

"We need medical attention," Negasi said.

"You'll get it. His Majesty treats his prisoners better than any ruler in the quadrant."

Negasi remembered the thin, hollow-eyed men in the lockup and decided not to argue.

"How's the fight going?"

"We will be victorious."

The sergeant sounded like he was trying to convince himself. They did seem to be winning the fight for the prison, but how were they doing everywhere else?

The guy probably didn't know, and everyone on his side seemed surprised there had been a rebellion at all.

"We're from the Antikythera."

"The what?"

"The ship that brought the information about the jump gates."

"Jump gates? What about them?"

"You know, the League of Concerned Archaeologists?"

"What the hell are you talking about? Medic! Get over here and patch these two prisoners up. Once you're done, I'll send them to the rear."

A man in a white uniform dragging a medical pack crawled their direction. The sergeant moved away.

Negasi raised his hands.

"Wait!"

Both men stopped.

"No, not you," he told the medic. "We need you. Sergeant, here's a chance for you to win the war."

"Me?"

The sergeant still looked confused. Negasi wondered if he always looked confused.

"Our ship, the Antikythera, is a souped-up Vega All-Purpose with improved engines and armaments. You've heard of a Vega All-Purpose, haven't you?"

"Sure!"

Most guys on the more primitive worlds obsessively watched vids about high-tech spaceships, dreaming of the day when they could get off-planet in one. Those dreams almost never came true, but the vids remained popular.

"If we could get back to our ship, we could take care of your little rebellion problem in less than an hour."

That was no boast. Flying the Antikythera, they could wipe the floor with these rebels. What good were tanks and machineguns against a durasteel hull? As long as the Royal fleet was still in the hands of the loyalists, they didn't have anything to worry about.

Negasi saw hope and the chance at promotion spark in the sergeant's eyes, then quickly get replaced with cynicism.

"You'll just fly away."

"Not if you have some soldiers in the cockpit holding guns to our heads."

"Why would you do this?"

Still that suspicion.

"A pardon, of course."

"I thought your arrest was all a big misunderstanding."

"Sure, and this will clear it up. We love His Majesty and we want him to stay in power." Now the NCO really looked doubtful. "Good for trade."

That convinced him, at least a little bit.

"I'll go talk with my superior officer."

He moved away, signaling a private to cover them with his rifle. The medic started patching them up. He got to work on Negasi's leg first.

"You think that will work?" Jeridan asked in a whisper.

"Depends on how desperate they are."

Jeridan groaned and lay back on the berm. A bullet whizzed by safely overhead.

"Don't get glum," Negasi told him. "We'll get out of this."

"I'm not worried about that. OK, I am. It's my head is spinning. I feel thirsty too. I think I got a concussion."

Well, great. That's all we need.

As the medic bandaged his legs, Negasi asked him, "Aren't you going to give me some nanobots?"

"Rare stuff. It's reserved for officers."

"Wonderful," Negasi grunted. "Do you at least have some ani-burn cream? We got a bit scorched back there."

"In a minute."

Negasi looked around and spotted the sergeant speaking with a man with the insignia of a captain. Both of them were looking at them suspiciously.

This isn't going to work.

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