Entwined Fates (The Infinite City Book 1)

by Tiffany Roberts

  Terran Year 2101

  Heart racing, Kiara ran down the corridor, keeping one hand on the blaster at her hip. Her crewman, Tekel—a large, brown-furred azhera—ran just ahead of her, while Cypher kept pace at her side.

  The Starlight quaked.

  Kiara threw out her free hand, catching herself against the frame of an open door. If not for her quick reflexes, she would’ve stumbled face first into the wall.

  “What was that?” she demanded, clinging to the doorframe as she righted herself.

  “They just docked with our aft entry hatch,” Umae, the Starlight’s pilot, replied through Kiara’s commlink earpiece.

  “Bloody hell!”

  Cypher skidded to a halt a few meters away and turned to face Kiara, staring at her with anxious, glowing eyes.

  “Are they still blocking your signal, Cyph?” Kiara asked.

  Cypher clicked and nodded.

  “I want you to go hide and keep trying, got it?”

  The inux narrowed his eyes and bared his fangs, clicking angrily as his scales scintillated and flowed like an angry ocean current. Kiara had no doubt that, were Cypher a person, he’d be telling her where she could shove it right now.

  “Don’t argue with me, Cypher. If anything happens, you’re our only hope of getting help.”

  Cypher growled and stared at Kiara for a few more seconds before releasing a frustrated huff. He darted away.

  “They’ve breached the airlock,” Umae said, her husky voice panicked.

  “That quickly?” Kiara asked, drawing her blaster.

  Tekel was positioned at the closed door ahead of her, his long tail flicking back and forth as he stared through the door’s small viewport. His blaster looked child-sized in his large, clawed hands.

  Kiara fell into place opposite Tekel and leaned back against the wall. “How many?”

  “Too many,” Captain Mason Snider said through the comms. “Kiara…”

  Growling, she adjusted her hold on the blaster and lifted her left arm to activate the holocom on her wrist. She flicked through the holographic menu until she accessed the ship’s security feed.

  Tekel had called them pirates, but their armor, weapons, and numbers were reminiscent of a small army. At least fifteen had already entered through the airlock, with more following. They advanced down the corridors with weapons readied.

  There was no way the Starlight’s small crew—six people if Kiara counted herself—could fight off such a large, well-equipped force.

  She had to make a choice.

  “Mason, you’re in command of this ship,” she said, “but I think we should stand down.”

  “What?” Tekel snarled, glaring at her.

  “I want you all alive. If we fight, they’ll kill us. If we surrender, we have a chance.”

  “Better dead than taken,” the azhera said. “Do you have any idea what they will do with us?”

  Kiara clenched her jaw. The Starlight was the first ship she’d purchased when she started this business venture after university, and it remained her favorite. It had made the run between Earth and the Entris Dominion dozens of times, and she’d personally traveled on this ship for a good eighty percent of those trips, even after she’d expanded her merchant fleet. She’d always known piracy was a potential hazard of intergalactic trade, but her ships had remained untouched.

  Until now.

  “They’re probably just after the cargo,” she said, as much to convince herself as anyone else.

  “Kiara, we are part of that cargo,” Tekel replied.

  “We will find a way to get help. Cypher is working to get a distress signal out, and if he can reach someone, he can act as a homing beacon. Still, it’s your call, Mason. You know where I stand.”

  “Boss is right,” Mason said through the comms. “Everyone fall back to the bridge immediately. Our only way out of this alive is by cooperating with our new guests.”

  “Kraasz ka’val,” Tekel spat, slamming his fist into the wall. Kiara’s translator offered no understanding of his guttural words. He pushed away from the door and ran alongside Kiara back to the bridge.

  The rest of the crew was already gathered inside, fear in their eyes. Even the fierce borian, Umae, seemed subdued. Kiara’s heart ached; these people were her friends, her family. If anything happened to them, she’d never forgive herself.

  Please find help, Cypher.

  She met Mason’s gaze; he’d been with her since the beginning, and she trusted him to make the right calls when it came to the Starlight and its crew.

  Though he wore a deep frown, he nodded to Kiara and said in a firm voice, “All right, everyone. Weapons away.”

  Kiara dropped her blaster into its holster. She didn’t miss the crew’s reluctance as they complied with Mason’s order. Tekel and Umae seemed particularly riled—they both hailed from peoples with long-running warrior traditions.

  Moments later, pounding footsteps sounded in the corridor outside the room.

  “We surrender!” Mason shouted in universal speech, the most widely spoken language in the known universe. “We won’t resist.”

  The door slid open, and the pirates stormed onto the bridge two at a time with blasters raised. They spread out around the edges of the room, partially surrounding the Starlight’s crew, who stood with their backs to the ship’s control consoles.

  A large, four-eyed tretin ducked through the doorway, barely clearing it. He was like a demon out of an old story, with two horns rising from his forehead and two more sweeping outward from the sides of his skull—and was probably close to two and a half meters tall including those horns. Black spikes jutted from his chin, matching the color of his long, black hair, and his lips were parted to reveal a mouth full of sharp teeth. His long, powerful tail swayed behind him. He lowered his blaster and chuckled.

  “Choosing the easy way?” he asked in a deep, gravelly voice. “The hard way is more fun, but this is more profitable. Take their weapons.”

  Several of the pirates moved forward, searching the Starlight’s crew and confiscating their weapons.

  A male borian approached Peyton. The human woman—who’d always been introverted and timid but was amongst the best engineers in the business—whimpered and cringed away. The borian grabbed the back of her neck with one of his big hands and drew her closer.

  “Got a few exotic ji’tas here, Vrykhan,” he said.

  Umae, a borian herself, spat at the pirate’s feet. “You are a disgrace to our people.”

  The borian pirate drew a knife from his belt with his free hand and angled its point toward Umae. “But a wealthy disgrace.”

  Kiara growled and darted toward him, dropping a hand to her blaster. “Leave them alone!”

  The big tretin stepped in front of Kiara, and she collided with him; it was like running face first into a brick wall. Before she could back away, he clamped a hand on her shoulder, his grip tight enough to nearly make her knees buckle. She cried out in pain; there was no doubt he could crush her bones to powder if he wanted to.

  With his free hand, the tretin broke Kiara’s hold on her blaster and plucked the weapon out of its holster. He passed it to one of the nearby pirates. Leaning down so his face was closer to hers, he ran the back of a clawed finger down her cheek.

  “So soft,” he said, trailing his finger toward her lips. When she turned her face away, he chuckled.

  “Sod off, you knob-headed mingebag,” Kiara said.

  His grin widened. “So spirited. What does this look like to you, Brazzik?”

  The male borian glanced at Kiara. “Merchandise, Vrykhan.”

  “Unique merchandise,” Vrykhan replied. “These soft ones are terrans. Very rare and in high demand.” He dropped his gaze to Kiara’s chest and grabbed her jacket with his free hand. “I think I can see why.”

  Tekel lunged at the tretin.

  One of the pirates slammed the butt of his auto-blaster into Tekel’s face, knocking him aside. “Don’t you fucking move!”
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  Vrykhan’s long, pointed tongue slipped out from between his sharp teeth and ran along his dark lips.

  Kiara punched him in the face and hammered her elbow onto his forearm, hoping to dislodge his hold on her, but Vyrkhan made no indication of pain—his head moved a centimeter, his arm not at all. He tightened his hold on her shoulder. Kiara’s legs gave out as fresh pain jolted through her, but his grip was so strong that he held her upright.

  He swung her around, slammed her back into the wall, and tore her jacket open like it was made of paper.

  “Well now, what is this?” He hooked a claw beneath the chain of her necklace and lifted it off her collarbone. “A balus stone? You let one of those Dominion worms rut you in exchange for this?”

  Kiara pressed her lips together and stared at the pendant.

  Vyrkhan curled his fingers around the stone.

  Don’t.

  The tretin yanked on the necklace. For an instant, the chain bit painfully into her skin, and then it snapped, producing a flare of stinging pain on the back of her neck.

  “No!” Kiara thrust out a hand to reclaim the necklace, but Vrykhan lifted it out of her reach.

  He tossed the pendent to Brazzik. “Hold on to that. Those things sell well enough that it’s worth fencing with the rest of the cargo.” Looking back at Kiara, he grasped her chin and turned her face from side to side. His hold on her was firm, punishing. He finally released her shoulder to brush the tips of his claws through her hair. “Such a pretty thing. You’ll earn me a lot of credits.”

  Vrykhan shoved away from Kiara, forcing her against the wall again and knocking the air from her lungs. She stumbled forward, but Tekel—blood trickling from his cat-like nose—forced his way over and caught her by the upper arms to steady her before she could fall.

  “I want the merchandise moved into the cargo hold and this ship’s systems up and going,” Vrykhan commanded. “Set course for Caldorius. We’ll offload everything in one go.”

  Several of the pirates slung their weapons over their shoulders and hurried to the ship’s control stations as the others herded Kiara and the crew toward the door at gunpoint. Tekel helped Kiara walk; her legs remained unsteady.

  Kiara glared at Vrykhan. “You will face justice for this.”

  “And you’ll face a miserable life of slavery, my little pet, probably sucking off some wealthy merchant’s stem for the rest of your years,” the tretin replied. “Should’ve died fighting.”

  “Ship is low on fuel, sir,” one of the pirates called. “Its course was locked for the nearest refueling station, Janus Six. They already checked in as making their approach.”

  “That’s a Dominion station,” another said.

  “We divert the course, and they’ll come looking,” Vrykhan grumbled. “How far will this ship make it on its current stores?”

  “Just far enough to leave it stranded in space. It won’t make the meet-up location or Caldorius, that’s for sure.”

  Vrykhan growled. “Brazzik, stay aboard with a small party. Match their species”—he jabbed a finger at Kiara and the others—“as closely as possible, and keep a few in the hold to guard the goods. Stop, refuel, and move on. This haul’s too valuable to lose. Start moving the merchandise as soon as you get to Caldorius, but keep the terrans. They’ll fetch a premium price, so I’ll have to contact the right purveyors…though the ertraxxan might be interested in one of these. He said he’s looking for something exotic.”

  “Bastard,” Kiara muttered, wishing she could blast those bloody teeth out of his skull.

  “Do not fuck this up, Brazzik,” Vrykhan said. “Get there in one piece, and you can have a go at the female borian.”

  Brazzik grinned.

  “Yaril, stick with him. We’ll find you on Caldorius after I’ve met with Cullion,” Vrykhan said.

  A reptilian ilthurii nodded and moved toward the control consoles.

  “Move it,” one of the pirates growled, jabbing the barrel of his blaster into Kiara’s back to shove her along.

  Tekel tensed, sticking alongside Kiara as she staggered forward. She felt his claws extending; he eased when she placed a hand on his forearm. Mason wrapped an arm around Peyton’s shoulders, holding her close, as Umae and the female volturian, Inara, glared at their captors.

  Kiara released a heavy breath through her nostrils and turned her face forward as she and her companions were ushered off the bridge. Had she made the right choice? This way meant they’d probably live, that they had a chance…but if an opportunity for escape didn’t come up soon, what sort of lives would they be forced into?

  Come on, Cypher. We’re counting on you.

  Commander Syntrell Volcair Vantricar held in a sigh and resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose as he reviewed yet another ship’s manifest. He’d chosen to renew his military service after earning the right to carry the name of his ancestral qalar, and he’d done so knowing his rank could eventually mean a focus on administrative duties despite—or even because of—his exemplary combat record. The leadership of the Entris Dominion often rewarded its most decorated soldiers with positions considered safe and easy, like Volcair’s current command of Janus Six, a Dominion-operated space station. Though the station was important as a potential base of operations for Dominion fleets and served as a checkpoint and refueling station for private trade vessels traveling in and out of Entris space, life here was monotonous.

  Every day during his six months commanding Janus Six had seen endless perusals of shipping manifests, security clearances, and requisition forms to keep the station—which was not unlike a city floating through the vacuum of space—adequately stocked to provide for its garrisoned soldiers, long-term residents, and passing travelers. The crises he dealt with were not matters of life and death, but of keeping congested shipping lanes flowing, of mediating between angry merchants and rival crews, and of delivering justice to the diverse people who passed into his jurisdiction.

  He often caught himself yearning for simpler times—for the black-and-white reality of combat.

  For the life he’d briefly led on Earth so many years ago.

  “What is the situation with this one?” he asked as he brought up the next manifest.

  “Trade frigate registered with the United Terran Federation,” Lieutenant Beltheri, who stood near his desk, replied. “It is pre-cleared, en route to Deduin. One of the docking guards flagged it. Suspicious behavior from the crew.”

  Volcair grunted; suspicious behavior was a common reason for his soldiers flagging docked vessels. Most of the time, nothing came of it—some of the commercial crews were in deep space for months-long stretches and were in understandably deteriorated emotional states when they arrived. But sometimes there was more; the Dominion was not without enemies and malcontents.

  He scanned the ship’s information. The Starlight, port of origin on planet… Volcair straightened in his seat.

  Earth.

  Not surprising; Earth was the terran homeworld, and the United Terran Federation had only colonized a handful of worlds thus far.

  His throat constricted as he manipulated the file to show the registration information.

  Owner: Kiara Zuri Moore

  Terran; UTF Citizen

  Licensed for trade in UTF and Entris Dominion Territories.

  Fingers suddenly numb, he touched the control on his uniform’s breast to activate his commlink. “This is Commander Volcair. Who flagged the terran ship?”

  Lieutenant Beltheri furrowed her brow.

  After several seconds of quiet, the comm crackled to life, and a male said, “It was I, Commander. Ensign Korian Malthan.”

  “What did you see, Ensign?”

  “Two of the ship’s crew disembarked to engage the refueling process and present their official manifest, Commander. They seemed impatient and anxious beyond reason.”

  “No recorded distress signals,” the lieutenant said, preempting Volcair’s suspicion. Pirate hijackers were known to take h
ostages to persuade captured civilian crews to get stolen ships through checkpoints unhindered, but it was too soon to assume such a case here.

  “Was one of them a female terran? Dark hair and brown skin?” Volcair asked. His heart thumped as hard as it had during his first combat drop.

  “No, sir. A borian and a volturian,” Ensign Korian replied.

  Volcair leaned forward, propped an elbow on his desk, and dropped his forehead onto his hand. Kiara was the vessel’s owner, but that didn’t mean she was on board; countless ships were owned by individuals who never set foot upon them.

  But there was a chance she was aboard the Starlight. And if she was…

  Was she avoiding him? Was her crew in a hurry because she’d instructed them to get the ship out of the station as quickly as possible, thus eliminating any chance of seeing Volcair?

  The very thought of it hurt, but thoughts of Kiara were always bittersweet. He’d been so sure about his relationship with her for most of his life. So sure their paths would meet again, and that when they did, they’d be forever intertwined.

  Fate had decided otherwise years ago.

  If she is here, I must see her. Just one more time.

  And he could not discount the possibility, however slight, that the ship had been overtaken by pirates. In that case, anyone aboard—including Kiara—was in danger. Even the most infinitesimal chance of that was too much for him to take.

  “What is the Starlight’s current departure status?” he asked.

  “On hold, sir,” replied Lieutenant Beltheri, “pending your approval.”

  Flattening his hands on the desk, Volcair pushed himself to his feet. “I will speak with the crew personally.”

  Beltheri frowned and said, “Respectfully, sir, we have several more cases to review, and—”

  “I will attend this matter personally,” Volcair said. Anxiety churned in his gut, but he forced it down; he needed closure. He needed to know she was happy. Needed to know she was safe.

  Once she’d departed from Janus Six, he would let himself feel the pain of losing her anew—a pain that time seemed unable to heal.