by Lea Linnett
Siikas. He made any prospect of taking Taz off-planet with him laughable. Mercenary life was dangerous enough, and if what happened a few minutes earlier was any indication, he couldn’t trust Taz to let him take a bullet. Her own safety was the last thing she thought about when her loved ones were in danger, and he couldn’t let her throw away her life for someone like him. Besides, she’d never leave CL-32. He knew her well enough to understand that.
No, leaving was the best option, as soon as this mission was over. He wouldn’t abandon it. It wasn’t just the money. There was no way he’d let Taz go near one of Siikas’ businesses without him, especially when their only contact was someone as shady as Niro. But after that, he would leave. It might hurt her, but it was better than leaving in a month, or a year, or not leaving at all and risking her safety for his selfishness.
They both jumped when Deeno’s comm rang shrilly in his pocket. He fished it out, his other hand still gripping his gun tightly, and he eyed Kamanek as he answered.
“Cara.” He paused, listening, and then his eyes went huge with panic. “She’s gone?! What do you mean? You let her leave?”
Kamanek tensed, ears straining to hear Cara’s voice on the other end but coming up with nothing.
“But we’re scheduled to move on the warehouse tonight,” Deeno said when the voice paused. “And she’s alone out there.”
Kamanek stood, fishing his pack out from where he’d stuffed it beneath the cot the night before. He felt the cicarian’s eyes following him and ignored them, heading for the door.
“Don’t worry, I’ll find her,” said Deeno, before the comm disconnected with a crackling sound. Then, “Don’t you fucking move.”
Kamanek paused, his expression thunderous as he turned to glare at the cicarian over his shoulder. “Lower that gun, now,” he ordered, and saw the cicarian’s hairless brow furrow at his uncharacteristically tight tone. “I’ll find her. You wouldn’t have a chance.”
“I was told to take you back to Cara, and that’s what I’m going to do,” Deeno insisted, stepping forward.
Kamanek moved swiftly, crossing the gap between them in two quick strides and wrapping his far larger hand around the cicarian’s, pointing the gun away. He leaned in close, using his considerable height to tower over the much shorter alien, his plated brow almost touching his. Rage flowed through him; rage that these people continued to get between him and Taz, rage that they’d made her feel ashamed of what she wanted, and that they thought they could control him just like the military had.
“If you try to follow me,” he growled, “I will rip your wings from your body. And then neither of us will find her.”
The cicarian froze, his wings trembling, and Kamanek pulled away in disgust. If it had been Taz, she would have punched him. Or at least tried to.
As he swept from the room, leaving Deeno gulping in his wake, he tried to tell himself that Taz didn’t really need to be found. But that didn’t stop the panic from lancing through him. It wasn’t rational, but if there was even a chance that she’d get herself into trouble, he had to be there. He had to back her up.
But how would he find her?
He hesitated on the landing of the floor below, his mind racing. Where would she go, in a fit of anger?
He had no idea, but before the thought could unravel his resolve, he heard a faint beeping emanating from his pack. He pulled it from his shoulder, rooting around inside until he felt the familiar shape of the tracking module between his fingers. It had been unresponsive ever since Niro arrived at the warehouse.
But now, it was zeroing in on a new set of coordinates, ones that were still close by.
It was the tracker Kamanek had given Taz on their first day in Sek Vorek. The one that he’d promised not to activate. It seemed as though Taz had. The beacon was heading steadily east, and at a fast pace, too. She wasn’t waiting around.
He stared down at it, hardly believing what he was seeing. Did she want him to find her? What did that mean? Should he even follow? He pushed the questioning voice aside. Not following her wasn’t an option, and if she wanted to see him…
He couldn’t refuse her.
25
Taz thought about turning off the tracker a dozen times as she scaled the narrow stone steps that snaked up the side of the cliff-face. She took the stairs two at a time, relishing in the burn it sent through her disused muscles. After so long spent in that stupid flophouse, she needed to feel strong again.
She didn’t stop moving until she reached the first plateau—the same place where she and Cara had met Niro that day. It was as quiet and deserted as ever, which was why she’d chosen it. Here, she could take a few minutes to herself before Kamanek arrived. Here, she could try and get a hold of the angry confusion that was tying her stomach in knots.
Part of her believed Cara without question when she said Kamanek couldn’t be trusted. She’d known not to trust levekk since she was a child, and she and Cara had always been honest with each other. But another part couldn’t believe it. Not when it had seen the way Kamanek reacted to the sight of those humans in cages, or the way he tried to help that girl in the brothel. It didn’t make sense.
She had to ask him. She needed to know. And if he couldn’t give her a straight answer…
Taz gulped down the angry lump in her throat. She couldn’t think about that.
She turned around as soon as she heard the rasp of levekk claws on stone. It was Kamanek, as she’d suspected, and he was short of breath when he reached her, as if he’d rushed to follow her.
“What happened?” he asked, as he gently took her face in his clawless hand, tilting it up to look at him. Taz’s breath hitched at his expression. It was full of warmth, his scales turned amber by the sunset washing over them, but his eyes were wide with concern. His other hand slid up her arm, and the urge to melt into his arms was so strong that she almost gave into it.
But she couldn’t. She was sick of not knowing where she stood, not knowing who to trust. She had to know the truth.
Pushing him gently away, she lifted his hand from her face and squeezed his fingers.
“Cara told me you worked for Siikas,” she said, meeting his eye.
His lips parted in surprise, and he swallowed audibly. “That’s right.”
Taz’s heart sank, her tone going flinty. “She said you did terrible things for him. For credits.”
“I never told her that,” he said, his brow plate twitching into a frown. “But, yes.”
“Yes?”
He opened his mouth to reply, but hesitated. She couldn’t read his face as he glanced out over the steep drop beside them. Her hand tightened on his to the point where it was almost painful, her teeth gritting.
“Please, Kamanek. After everything I told you, can’t you trust me with this?”
Her breath stilled as he looked back at her, his jaw clenched in pain. “You won’t understand,” he said softly.
But that just made the lick of anger in her belly fan hotter. She dropped his hand. “I can’t keep defending you if you won’t tell me the truth,” she said, frowning when the levekk chuckled humorlessly in reply.
“Maybe you shouldn’t.”
She glared at him for a long moment, daring him to stay silent, and almost let out a visible sigh of relief when he looked down, nodding.
“I worked for Siikas for a year,” Kamanek said. “I guarded him, I intimidated his competition, I stole from his competition. And when people tried to get out of paying back the credits he’d lent them, I retrieved them.”
“And what if they couldn’t pay?”
A smile pulled at his lips, but there was nothing amused about it. “Then Siikas had a colorful list of things he liked to have done to them as punishment, as well as seizure of some of their assets.”
Taz’s jaw dropped. “Did you…?”
“I tried to get what I needed without resorting to the worst punishments, but the… colleagues he sent with me weren’t always so forgiving
,” he said, his lip curling with disgust. “It wasn’t just them, either. It was their families. Their children. And I couldn’t stop any of it from happening.”
“Why?” she asked hotly, her fists clenching. “Why even work for someone like him in the first place?”
“Because I didn’t have a choice,” he snapped, his jaw clenching. “After Tanis, and what happened with the military, I… I wasn’t right. I was depressed, jumping from job to job and sometimes not working at all. My severance pay dried up. I had nothing, so I borrowed.”
Taz’s eyes widened. “Not from…”
“Yes. From Siikas. I was this close to ending up like all the others who couldn’t pay their debts, and you know what saved me? I was a merc. A merc with nothing to lose and a shitty record with the military. He said I could work for him and pay off my debt, but I should’ve known from the beginning that it wasn’t possible. Every fuck-up added to the debt. Every time I got close there’d be a reason to up the interest. There’s no escaping a guy like that.”
“You couldn’t just leave?”
“And become a target like the others? There were plenty of guys working for him who were far nastier than me, and he made sure I was reminded of that every day. But eventually, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I did leave. And he sullied my fucking name across half the Constellation. That’s why I’m here, on this planet. I had nowhere else to go,” he finished, and he’d grabbed her hand again at some point, clasping it between his.
Taz was speechless, staring down at their linked hands. She wished she could punch him, that they could expel their feelings through fighting rather than all these… words. But she couldn’t. She should be angry, but Kamanek was staring at her, showing her a vulnerability that not many males would have ever allowed her to see.
“I was afraid of Siikas,” he continued. “Shamefully so. And I was afraid to let you see that. I avoided telling you because I wasn’t sure you’d understand. You’re not afraid of anything.”
“That’s not true,” Taz said. “I was afraid when Cara found us. I was afraid of… of being with you.”
“But if you and I had switched places, you never would have let Siikas control you like that. You would have died before you hurt anyone on his behalf…” His eyes widened, his mouth clamping shut, and he dropped her hand as if she’d burned him.
She blinked up at him, confused. “What’s wrong?”
“I shouldn’t…” He glanced away, back toward the tree-like skyscrapers of Sek Vorek as they reflected the sunset in shards of orange.
“Maybe it’s okay,” she tried. “Mila eventually forgave me for what I did to that kerfaan, right? So, I think she’ll be able to understand why you did what you did. Cara, too. Eventually. What I mean is…” She hesitated, the words sticking in her throat because this wasn’t like squaring up for a fight. This wasn’t like shouting someone down in an argument. This was forcing her to be vulnerable, just like he was, and that scared her more than Cara did.
“There could be a place for you here,” she finally whispered. “And not as a mercenary. As a Lodestar.”
Kamanek stared down at her with wide eyes, as if the prospect had never occurred to him, as if he’d never expected Taz to offer such a thing. Maybe no one had ever offered him a place that wasn’t contingent on his services before. Taz realized she would carve out any place she could for him, she’d fight tooth and nail to have him be accepted.
But then he shook his head, stepping back, and Taz felt like all the wind had been sucked out of her.
“I can’t, Taz,” he said, her name sounding tight on his lips. “I can’t stay here. Not with Siikas so close.”
“W-why? You don’t need the work. You’ll be working with us.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Yes, it is!”
“It isn’t!” he snapped, and Taz recoiled. A shutter had come down behind his eyes that she’d never seen before. She was used to a Kamanek that was always reaching for her, always teasing, but now he was entirely closed off. He wasn’t even looking at her with hunger anymore, only pain.
Did he… no longer want her? Maybe he’d had his fill, and would now move on to fresher sights and more exotic… partners.
“Why isn’t it simple?” she asked quietly.
Kamanek sighed, not meeting her eye. “Would you come back with me? Your sister is worried.”
Taz’s heart plummeted, leaving behind an iciness that burned worse than fire. But it was soon eclipsed by molten anger as her hackles rose, and she clenched her jaw, her fists, every muscle in her body.
She’d thought they were done with secrets, but still he kept things to himself. It was obvious that he didn’t care for her enough to be honest. At least that was something she and Cara had always had: honesty.
She pushed past him violently. “Since when have you worried about what my sister wants?” she spat on her way past. His face gave away nothing. Just stony silence, and the clenching of his jaw.
No anger. No hurt. Not even a hint of humor.
Taz turned away. She refused to believe it. She refused to accept that the care, the love she’d seen in him mere moments ago was fake. Cara couldn’t be right about him.
And Taz would prove it, somehow.
26
Kamanek felt as if he were being pulled in two as he followed Taz back to the warehouse.
One half had pushed her away, like he knew he had to. She’d forgiven his confession too easily, which showed just how deeply she cared for him.
The other half still ached to be close to her, drawing him back to her side as they returned to the flophouse, and that was just as bad. He still wanted to pull her close, despite the toxic looks she was sending him, and that was proof of it, right? That he’d allowed himself to grow too close to her? He was beginning to understand now what they felt for each other, but if that was the case…
He really did need to walk away. For her sake.
Kamanek was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t realize the route Taz had taken until the familiar cement walls of Siikas’ warehouse loomed into view at the end of the street. Usually, they would avoid it, but Taz was walking towards it with purpose, her shoulders tensed.
“Taz, wait,” he hissed. “What are you doing?”
She ignored him, picking up her pace, and he gripped her arm. She spun in his grasp, pressing a sharpened knife into the crook of his arm before he could react.
“Let go of me,” she said in a low voice.
He did so reluctantly. “What’s going on?”
“Are you blind?” she snapped, scowling up at him. “There’s something parked outside the warehouse. I’m going to go check it out.”
“Wh—”
But Taz had already ducked down low, using the short barrier that separated the sidewalk from the ground road for cover as she crawled closer. Kamanek squinted at the warehouse through the chain-link fence, finally noticing what she was talking about. A dark shape—one that looked suspiciously like a transport of some kind—sat in the yard. He assumed it had something to do with the humans, but if that was the case…
“Taz!” he called at her retreating back. She was moving fast, and he sighed, having no choice but to follow.
As they drew closer, Kamanek could see that it was indeed a transport—two transports, in fact—parked side-by-side on the open concrete. They were large, taking up a third of the yard and blocking part of the roller door.
They were so large that it took Kamanek a moment to notice the group of levekk loitering around their base. Taz noticed too, skidding to a stop so quickly that he almost ran into the back of her, and they flattened themselves against the barrier, out of sight.
“Taz, if they’re moving, we need to get back to the others…”
“It’s too early for them to be moving,” Taz snapped, peeking over the barrier. “Now shut up and look.”
Kamanek sighed, but joined her. There were five levekk standing between the transports,
relaxed like they were waiting for something. Their dark clothes hid them in the deepening shadows as the sun dipped behind the horizon, but they were clearly mercenaries. They were all equipped with laser rifles and skintight armor plating, the latter similar to what Kamanek wore now. It could withstand laser discharges, but was susceptible to tearing, which meant they were prepared for a long-range fight.
But they weren’t the only levekk present, he realized. To the side, closer to the warehouse’s roller door and partially obscured by a warp in the chain-link fence, were two more.
The larger was unmistakably Niro, towering head and shoulders over his companion. The smaller was standing with his back towards them, talking animatedly into a comm. He wore crisp civilian clothes rather than the tactical armor that Niro and the others sported, and he stood like someone who was used to having other people watch his back.
“Stay here,” Taz whispered, and by the time Kamanek had pulled his stunned gaze away from the levekk she was already out of arm’s reach, creeping further along the barrier. It curved toward the warehouse slightly before jutting away, and she was crawling towards the bend, trying to get a better view.
A small gust of wind whipped along the top of his head, carrying a snatch of the levekk’s conversation. Kamanek couldn’t make out much, but he knew that voice intimately well, and it made his heart sink like a stone.
It was Siikas.
“Taz,” he called, but she was either out of earshot or ignoring him. Panic gripped him like a vise, but he refused to buckle. He dropped low behind the barrier and followed, cursing his fiery human under his breath.
---
Taz settled into the bend in the barrier and pressed her fingers to the metal. She was closer now, and she could hear the smaller levekk’s voice as he spoke into his comm. To her disappointment however, she couldn’t make out the words, or recognize his voice.