by Reagan Woods
A mulish expression falling over her face, she challenged in quiet tones, “It seems like that could come back and bite us in the ass.”
“It won’t,” Bram promised. “There’s nothing else out here. He’s as good as dead.”
“Famous last words,” she muttered darkly.
Chapter 23
The Black Wing’s bio scanners indicated the Class D freighter contained five life-signs. That little upgrade was absolutely worth the capital to the assassin.
The Council’s cryptic instructions hadn’t been clear on which pirate was the intended target, so they all had to die. First, the hunter needed to figure out what was wrong with his baby.
He gritted his teeth against the hard vibrations that rocked the ship and punched in the emergency data backup codes. He cursed in every language he knew as he fought, both hands locked around the manual controls, to keep the Black Wing on course.
She wanted to pull hard leeward. If he lost her now, the shuddering ship would spin until it broke apart. Compromised as his shields were, that was a death sentence.
With an audible crack, the steering lever snapped in his hands. Fuck. Apparently, the ship was already breaking apart. The Ambassador didn’t waste time, his boots pounded the hard metal floor as he ran for the entrance to the emergency launch bay. The single-person kinetic energy flier was his only hope.
Luckily, the narrow door to the slender tube was already pushed back. He swung over the lip, feet first, and gave the verbal launch command before the lid fully sealed over him. Hopefully, there was still time to make a controlled launch.
The sound of rushing air filled his ears followed closely by a loud thud as he hit the vacuum of space. Nerves of steely calm guided him as he brought the navigation systems on-line. The Black Wing had been entering a spin when the flier launched from it. He would have to make incremental changes to the trajectory if he intended to keep his target in sight without losing too much range or velocity.
A few taps on the shimmering interface verified the data transfer from the Black Wing. He could rest easy because he had bio-identifiers of each of the five targets. These weeks of near isolation, this painstaking hunt, hadn’t been for naught.
Without faces or identities, he would be able to track each pirate down with this info. If the Councilors knew he possessed this kind of tech, they’d shit themselves. The thought had a smug grin tugging at the corners of his hard mouth.
Faced with a long ride in this dubiously armed flier, he had nothing better to do than analyze the op. What threat these Lyaran pirates posed to CGA security was unknown. He didn’t get paid to ask questions, though, just to kill.
These pirates were smarter than average. They’d lured him far into the Dead Zone, waited until he was ready to make his move, and then unleashed their diabolical weapons. The Ambassador cracked his neck tiredly. He didn’t know what nefarious weaponry they’d used, but his ship was done for. He wouldn’t underestimate them next time.
For now, he would simply follow and watch where they went. He couldn’t jeopardize the rest of the op but knowing their next stop would give him a place to return to start the hunt afresh.
No matter what, he needed to finish the other part of his assignment. The Councilors had barraged him with reminders as he travelled to complete the mission. Obviously, they were worried.
The Council’s timeline depended on the double agent on Opu disappearing sooner rather than later. Apparently, the agent, a well-connected Doranos, was suffering delusions of grandeur, claiming to speak for the Council. They couldn’t have that.
He liked his work. Though, he hadn’t wanted to leave his station on the little blue planet. He spared a thought for his brother Warriors back on Earth. That deployment shouldn’t have gone the way it did.
They’d all wondered how such a cherry planet went so long unnoticed. The high female population, the plentiful ore and other natural resources were a boon to the CGA. It was no wonder the VENTIX began sniffing around. Hash-Han always tried to cut in on CORANOS pay days.
When the Horizon disappeared through a wormhole after a skirmish with the VENTIX, taking several of his friends to their deaths, he’d wondered how the Emperor knew to send his Warlords to such a distant sector. Some said the VENTIX had a prior claim on Earth, but The Ambassador didn’t buy that.
No, far more likely one or more of the old bastards on the Council played both sides. Hash-Han would pay a pretty sum for information and those power hungry old males were greedy. Singly, the Councilors were an untrustworthy bunch. However, the Council, as one body, always managed to steer the Alliance in the most beneficial direction for its citizens.
At least he was secure in the knowledge he acted in the best interest of the CGA. To activate The Ambassador, each Councilor had to give consent by submitting a code of which they each only knew part. The fail-safe had been in effect for millennia, and, thus far, had proved effective for preventing any one Councilor from using operatives for personal gain.
Chapter 24
“I’m sick of you bossing me around!” Lacy exploded, preceding Bram into their tiny cabin. “And, also, why can’t I have my own room?”
“I’ll take the lodging situation up with Zocan,” Bram answered, as the door whispered shut behind him. “After a few hours down.”
Lacy was already on edge, and his tone didn’t help the situation.
“I don’t get you,” she slapped a palm to her forehead, flummoxed, and wheeled to face him. “In one breath you’re all ‘Great job, Lacy’ and with the next you’re hauling me back here like I’m an idiot.”
Pacing the three steps between the bed and the dispensary unit, she fumed. “Why are you people so misogynistic?”
Bram scratched his ear while he studied her, clearly at a loss. “Let’s back up,” he finally suggested. “Do you want to sit on the command deck? Haven’t you had enough of that by now?”
“I don’t want to go back,” she admitted, sucking on her lower lip. “I’m tired of you telling me what to do, when to eat, where to go, when to sleep. You herd me from one place to the next. I’m not an animal.”
He sighed heavily, appearing worn down. “When Zocan, - don’t get mad until I’m finished, alright?” Broad palms came up defensively and Lacy thought he looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. “When he recommended waking you, he told me I was responsible for keeping you alive. The medical component, I knew how to handle. Everything else…um, let’s say I haven’t had the – er – unique experience of caring for a female in a long time. Your knowledge of the universe is limited, and I’m trying to help you acclimate in case…”
“Yeah. Let’s talk about ‘in case’,” she jumped at the opening. The uncertainty he expressed echoed her own. It was adding to the pressure threatening to burst inside her. “If I can’t get back to Earth, how am I going to live in this universe where women are almost all property? I am not down with that.”
The sight of him squeezing his eyes shut would have been funny if this wasn’t her life they were talking about. “Can you not do that?” He asked.
“Do what?”
“Your insistence on using your slang in my language is…distracting. It doesn’t translate well.”
“Newsflash: I know you understand what I mean because you psychos stalked our planet before you decided it take it over.” The Doranos in the prison took a sick glee in telling anyone and everyone how clever they were with their invasion. Assholes. “Besides, you do it, too.”
“Lacy,” he rubbed the back of his neck, bloodshot eyes regarded her solemnly out of red-rimmed lids. “There’s no reason to argue. I want to give you answers, and I want you to be happy, I really do. We both have to accept we can’t always get what we want.”
Gently, he nudged her out of the way, so he could plop onto the mattress and tug off his boots. She was spoiling for a fight, the least he could do was oblige her. But, no, he stretched out, hogging up the whole bed and shut his eyes. “That’s not a gre
at answer.”
“It’s the only answer I have.” He crooked a muscled arm over his face, blocking the light, and her, out. Fixedly, she stared at his flexed triceps and considered her predicament.
Lacy was never much of a planner. She usually leapt before she looked, in fact. Her overconfidence had landed her in some tough spots, sure, but it also kept her from a life of abuse at her father’s hands. Alone and scared, her start on the Outside had been rocky, and, okay, the first few relationships she tried, drawn as she was to men of certain predilections, hadn’t ended well. But she was still standing, wasn’t she?
Waking up on an alien ship with poor odds of returning home, though, that was the frosting on the shit cake of her life. No matter how she angled, she couldn’t see a clean way out. Hell, she wasn’t fooling anyone. There wasn’t any exit, clean or otherwise.
“Should I take you to the combat room and let you beat on a droid?” Bram’s dry voice pulled her from her brooding.
“What?” She started, pacing guilty away, thankful he hadn’t moved his arm to catch her staring like a deranged idiot.
“It’s clear you’re feeling pressurized.” Now, he sighed, sat up, and dropped his feet to the floor. “I wouldn’t recommend trying to take all that,” his index finger drew a circle in her direction, “out on another person, but, if you need to work it off, I’ll find a droid. Zocan mentioned they had a few.”
“Are you saying you wouldn’t be angry in my place? Because that’s bullshit.” The hot challenge leapt from her tongue. She wanted to clasp her hands over her mouth and keep her roiling emotions inside but that was simply beyond her.
That annoying wince made a reappearance as he scrubbed his hands over his face. “I said nothing of the sort. You’ve just been through a combat situation, though, so the residual adrenaline might exacerbate your anger.”
“You’re not angry,” she tried to point it out calmly, but it cracked across the room like a bullet from a gun.
“I’m accustomed to the high and the crash.” His very reasonableness made her want to smack the long-suffering patience off his face. “Today wasn’t my first battle.”
“Bah!” Pent-up aggression might contribute to her waspishness, but she really was worried. They’d been through a tense situation and, instead of resolution, uncertainty stretched as far as the eye could see. “I don’t think getting my ass kicked by a machine is going to make me feel better.”
“What will?” It was a simple question with no overt tones of judgement.
“I don’t –,” she stopped, raked her hands through the hair above her ears and pulled, as she considered. “I don’t know.” The urge to stamp her foot was strong, so she stomped a few paces, turned, came back and did it all again. It didn’t help.
“You need to knock a droid around.” Resignation in the set of his shoulders, he swept his boots up, made to stuff his feet back in them.
“Not interested,” she resisted, waiving him off. “Go back to what you were doing.”
Instead of listening, he abandoned the boots, stretched out on his side with his head propped on the angle of his arm, and watched her pace. “Knock it off,” she told him, meeting his stare as she marched past.
On her next turn, she frowned when she found his eyes remained fixed on her. “I’m serious. You’re being creepy.”
“It seems I might be attacked in my sleep – and not in a fun way.” He cracked his neck and returned to staring. “So, I’ll wait until you settle.”
“Ha ha. It’d serve you right.” Another pass had her thinking ‘why not?’. He was so sure violence was the answer. Maybe he was right. Logic didn’t play into her decision, not really, she was pissed and scared. That’s what she’d tell herself later. None of this had anything to do with the need for a lifeboat in the storm of her life – even if her instincts insisted he was the one person who could hold her safe and keep her from drowning.
Chapter 25
Bram’s motive for prodding Lacy to the cabin was simple damage control. All signs pointed to a pending meltdown. Best it happened where he could contain it – in their mean little cabin. And, no matter what she thought, she wasn’t getting her own room. Ever.
Right now, she was aggressive. So was he, but he had enough experience to rein himself in.
Post-battle rage and obvious resentment over her situation were on a collision course inside Lacy. Bram wasn’t sure how she would erupt, he just knew she would. If she attacked one of the pirates, they wouldn’t take it well.
Extra hand-to-hand sessions cleared the post-battle adrenaline out of newbie Warriors’ systems. Lacy didn’t have that training and wasn’t interested in the alternatives Bram suggested, so he settled in to await the inevitable.
The sooner she got it out of her system, the sooner he could get some bleeding sleep. Watching over her these last days while running contingency scenarios had exhausted him. She’d slept, but he hadn’t.
Now, twin flags of color rode high on her cheeks as her blue eyes glittered. She was close to eruption.
No sooner had the thought crossed his mind before she jumped, her small weight enough to knock him on his back. “Ooomph!”
“Stop!” She yelled, swinging for his face with an open hand. “Just stop telling me what to do! I’m in charge of me! Do you hear?”
He allowed the first stinging slap, not out of surprise or because he couldn’t stop it, but because he recognized she needed the outlet. When she reared back for another hit, he caught both her wrists. “Sure you don’t need the droid?” He taunted. She needed a focus for all that rage.
From her position above him, she ought to have been able to thrash around enough to free herself, to work some of the anger out. He would gladly let her exhaust herself - even if it killed him to feel her compact body wriggling astride him.
Instead, she burst into tears.
“What? Lacy…” He floundered. That was a decidedly un-Warrior-like reaction.
“J-j-just quit, okay?” She sobbed. “Stop treating me like I’m some crazy alien. I know I’ve been a burden and I’m sorry.” Crystal tears poured down her red face. Her chest heaved as she struggled for composure.
He felt stupid and not a little inept, lying there holding her arms out in a T while she hung her head and wept. Wet splashes rained down to soak his shirt.
Crying females were not in his repertoire. Sesk’aa, bleeding and beaten after a night with one of her more violent companions, had never uttered a sound of pain or regret. Lacy wailed mournfully though there wasn’t a visible mark on her.
Somehow, she twisted until she huddled down, face pressed against his thudding heart. Bram warily released her and patted her back awkwardly. However, he remained ready to subdue her again if it became necessary.
She pressed closer and curled into a ball of snuffling, snorting mess. He tried to roll her to the sleep surface as her knee rested uncomfortably close to his maleness, but she wouldn’t have it. Arms around his waist, she stuck like a parasite. Resigned to the possibility of pain, he let her cling.
“I’m sorry,” she hiccoughed after endless minutes during which he replayed the scene, wondering where he went wrong. “I-I just can’t seem to get it together.”
Bram gave her another uncertain pat in lieu of a comment. She was even more volatile than he’d feared. He never, ever wanted her to cry again. It was horribly paralyzing to watch her unravel and know he was at least partially responsible for it.
“What, no snark?” She raised puffy, red-rimmed eyes to his. “No lecture about attacking you?”
Sucking in a lungful of air, Bram furiously sought an answer that wouldn’t exacerbate the situation. He drew a blank.
“No.” Instinctively, he threaded his fingers through the glossy tumble of her hair and pulled her face back to his chest. Now was not the time for recriminations. “I’ve never seen you as a crazy alien nor have you been a burden.”
Bram’s fingers worked small circles against her scalp in hopes o
f relaxing her. They didn’t need a repeat performance.
She sighed, the sound warming him as her tense body began to melt. “Thank you for saying that.”
They didn’t speak for a long while. Eventually, her soft snores registered. Relief washed through him when he realized the crisis had passed, but consternation soon followed. When he attempted to move her, she shifted up to nestle beneath his chin, a leg falling over either side of his hips.
“Lacy.” He whispered.
She mumbled, her grip tightening. He didn’t want to disturb her when she was so clearly exhausted so, with a muttered curse, he hit the lights and joined her in sleep.
Much later, something woke him. His Warrior’s ears automatically strained for threats and he fumbled for the lights. Lacy stood next to the sleep surface wincing. “Turn it down,” she hissed, slapping at the smooth control.
He did, falling into a light doze when she padded to the privy. Her return vaguely registered in his fuzzy brain, and he nearly cried when she turned off the lights only to sprawl across him.
“Lacy,” he grumbled the warning as she wriggled obnoxiously. His hands gripped behind her knees to still her restless movement. Instantly, sleep fled as he registered the silken texture of bare skin under his fingertips.
“Shhh,” she whispered in his ear, fingers trailing down his cheek before patting twice. “Go back to sleep.”
Easy for her to say, he thought grudgingly. His cock stirred and pressed hard against the soft juncture of her thighs. If it bothered her, she didn’t let on, her rhythmic exhalations indicative of deep sleep.
What was it about Lacy that made her so irresistible? Stifling a groan, he silently berated himself for being a martyr.
He should tell her to move, but he didn’t possess the strength. These past days, it had taken everything he had to maintain the focus required to get them out of this mess. There was nothing left over, no motivation to continue resisting the attraction he felt for her.