by Reagan Woods
Neither she nor Corey were big on bringing up the world that they lost so long ago, but they had a shared beginning, a common point of origin. Losing that connection to her past in such a permanent way wasn’t something Lara could contemplate.
“How long has she been locked away?” Lara asked Ssszit, squaring her shoulders.
“I wish I could tell you more, Lara. I do not have much information. My contact on Opu risked much to get word to me, but he did not have further details.”
“What will you do?” Lara pushed, studying Ssszit intently. “Who could possibly get to her and get her out?” She knew better than to pry, but her distress made her forget the pirate’s code of silence. The here and now were all that mattered to the crew of the Nom’magata. What came before, the lives they had once led, stayed in the past. Most of the time.
“It’s best you don’t ask, Lara, not until I have an agreement in place,” his tone was gentle, but his posture, shoulders hunched inward, arms crossed, warned her off further questions. “But this favor will cost a great deal.”
Zocan firmly put an end to her quiz, “That brings us to our next point of order.”
Despite the grimness of the situation, Lyon donned an expectant smirk, and Ssszit straightened, shaking off the foreboding that had radiated from him. Obviously, they already knew of the bullet points on Zocan’s agenda.
“What?” Lara narrowed her eyes suspiciously. She didn’t like the almost gleeful air around Lyon. He loved trouble, that one. And, while she was usually right on his heels when he ran towards it, she was still reeling from what she had learned.
“As Ssszit said, we need funding to pull off whatever comes next. And I know how we can raise the capital.” Zocan sounded reasonable, matter-of-fact, even.
Lara knew she wasn’t going to enjoy whatever was coming next.
“There were survivors from the ship that initiated the wormhole,” Zocan continued, forestalling her questions with a raised hand. “We have three humanoids in stasis.”
There was only enough nutrigel on board for the four of them in the event of an emergency. That her crewmates had installed these strangers in the prized regen beds, stolen from the CORANOS galaxy, spoke of a high-priced bounty. Or a possible ransom.
The fist around her heart loosened and Lara began to relax. This, at least, was business as usual. “Which lucky bastards get to fill our coffers?”
“The CORANOS High Council will certainly want to ransom their officer, but, if that doesn’t play, we can always sweet talk the Royal Family on Cor I,” Zocan relayed his plan succinctly.
“You’ve got General Darvan in there?” Lara gasped. “Shit, shit, shit. Just shit, Zocan. Push him out the airlock and let’s just go into hiding.” General Darvan D’Corian’s reputation, even in the far reach where pirates roamed, was enough to send the biggest and baddest running for cover. They’d stayed off his radar and out of his way, as far as she knew, and she wanted to keep it that way.
“I wish it were Darvan,” Zocan smiled faintly at Lara’s panic. He continued to project calm control of the situation. “It’s his brother, Vank.”
A chill pricked her skin. They’d be hunted by General Darvan if anything went sideways. Fan-fucking-tastic.
“Who are the other two?”
Lyon chuckled, “Who cares? We need the big payout. We give over the Doranos and the female in good faith. Though, if we had enough nutrigel to heal her up properly, I’d say we keep her.” He chuckled lecherously, waggling his eyebrows for effect.
“I thought you Lyarans didn’t go in for slaves,” Lara gritted. She had no problem with ransoming, thieving, even the occasional bit of bounty hunting, but she drew a hard line at slavery. Hadn’t she lived that nightmare?
“Relax,” Ssszit urged her privately. “He’s just baiting you.”
“It’s working,” she grumbled. But it was also shaking her out of that paralyzing fear.
Now was the time to regroup, to focus on what she could do. It was important that Corey come out of this alive, no doubt about it. However, it was equally important that Hash-Han didn’t discover any pertinent information about the Nom’magata or its crew.
She drew in a steadying breath. Let it out, let it go. “What’s the plan?”
Chapter Four
“You can do this,” Ssszit encouraged, keeping pace with her steady march. His mental voice sounded less than convinced.
Lara stomped a little harder down the metal ramp that led to the med bay doing her best to focus in on the task at hand. Her job was to wake the hostage, lay out expectations and prep him to move. She wasn’t one hundred percent clear on why Zocan wanted things like this, but, like any good actor, she could take direction.
Eighty percent of what they did to make their way in the universe was acting, hacking or performing some sleight of hand. They’d come up with many ruses to board other ships, to steal goods and to prevent their own goods from being stolen. Once luring a band of bounty hunting Novink Warlords into boarding their ship just to see if they could. Doling out violence was the other twenty percent of the job. And Lara was nothing if not a proficient pirate.
Today, she had to put up with Ssszit’s annoying lack of confidence in her abilities. But she would show him. Hash-Han’s minions had drilled her daily for years on how to get in and out of people’s minds.
She didn’t directly read their thoughts as much as she could see specific events that lent colors to their auras. Sometimes, she could touch a person’s psyche, see what motivated them at that moment and intuit how that would influence their intentions. But it took a lot of energy – the equivalent of sending up a psychic flare of a giant, sparkly arrow with “here I am, come get me” to Hash-Han.
The damned bug was her closest friend and mentor; like a big, scaly older brother. And his lack of faith hurt more than annoyed if she were being honest. She had never met anyone kinder or more considerate than Ssszit.
Of course, he could also be a giant pain in her ass, which was the current situation.
It was time to pick up the pace, to get in there, wake up the Corian and get this show on the road. She couldn’t pass the responsibility off to Ssszit in good conscience. Most people didn’t know that Tixerians could be anything other than mute bugs. And the bugs liked it that way. The fact that they were psychic and incredibly intelligent was a well-guarded secret. In fact, she wasn’t aware until her escape from the palace
“I am going to do this,” she agreed, grimly determined to play her part. She was tough. Warlords, some of the most brutal males in the universe, had met their end at her hands. What she lacked in smarts, she more than made up for in grit.
So what if she weren’t at full strength mentally or physically. She wouldn’t let her people down. Like it or not, Zocan, Lyon and the pain-in-the-ass, Ssszit, were hers.
Ssszit muscled in front of her, arm hovering over the scanner, preventing her from palming the double metal doors open. “If you fail, we will all die.” He emitted a warning chirrrrr.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, buddy,” she snarked, batting him out of her way. He was making it pretty damned hard to stay in the proper frame of mind for intimidating a prisoner.
“You know my visions are rarely wrong,” he reminded, practically treading on her heels as she rolled into the medical room.
“Un-be-fucking-lieveable!” She shouted, falling into her native language. Not that speaking in English would prevent him from understanding her. Tixerians read auras, interpreted the meanings behind brain wave patterns and, supposedly, had visions of the future. Or at least this one did. More like he was trying for a vision of her head exploding.
“If you would share the salient details, I would know what the shit was going on,” she blasted the thought as loudly as she could to his mind.
He whirr-ed, amused at her show of temper, and started keying a wake-up sequence into a closed regen bed. The long, white oval disarticulated into six sections with a hiss as the pressur
ized nitrogen dissipated thin fingers of fog into the air.
“I can’t do that,” he floated the words at her gently, almost apologetically. “You know the future is not written in stone and any number of things can alter it.”
“I get it and I’m sorry. I’m just frustrated and off-balance,” she kicked absently at a low cabinet, watching the slow ascent of the clear inner-compartment as the nutrigel began to drain away from the inert body within.
Her rule of thumb since escaping Hash-Han had always been to use what she could do in emergency situations only. If it wasn’t to keep her fed and/or safe, then she didn’t use her psychic senses. Today, she was going to have to make an exception and read this stranger, not just his aura, but his mind, too. To put it mildly, she was on edge.
Waking someone out of stasis could take minutes or it could take hours depending on the level of healing required and amount of time the patient had been in the chamber. A countdown sequence showed that it would be some time before the Commander regained consciousness.
Lara found herself transfixed as the viscous pink fluid pooled and dipped around the Corian’s giant body. The retreating liquid revealed a long, straight nose, chiseled cheekbones and a massive chest; followed shortly by thick thighs, biceps bigger than her head and - wow – her mouth went dry. Surely Corians must have more abdominal muscles than other humanoids? Because she could see an impossible number of ridges leading from his well-developed pectorals all the way down to his scarily proportionate cock.
The Commander wasn’t the first male she’d seen naked by any stretch of the imagination. He was, however, the first one to intrigue her. A slow burn started low in her belly and she shook her head to clear it, experiencing an odd, unfamiliar sense of panic.
Needing a distraction from his intimidating physical perfection, she hastily dove into his psyche. Her mind’s eye took over so quickly it was as if her ability waited restlessly, slithering just under the surface of her skin only to thrash free, out of control, the moment she called it forth.
She sank into the vision without the usual warning signs. Commander Vank walked toward her, towering over her in a way most males couldn’t. He pushed her against a wall she didn’t see, couldn’t really, for he had a hard grip around her neck, lightly squeezing. The message was clear; he could end her any time he wanted to. Hard eyes burnt intensely into hers, the copper glaze over his irises reflected her fear and confusion back to her.
“You’re going to regret this.” His voice was deep and rich. And angry, so very angry. Her heartbeat throbbed in her ears, the world tilting precariously.
“…Lara?” Ssszit was trying to get her attention.
She wheezed out a cough, feeling the ghostly hand still around the pillar of her throat.
She forced dazed eyes up, blinked.
Her breath came fast, pulse pounding in her ears. What was that?
“Lara!” Ssszit was more insistent now. Shiny, unblinking black eyes intent on her face, missing nothing.
“I’m sorry, what?” Hot blood rushed into her cheeks. She realized she’d been staring, mouth agape, at the hostage for quite a while.
Never before had she had such a vivid waking dream. She had the distinct impression that Ssszit knew exactly what had transpired, that her rusty abilities had gone haywire, leaping forth to run amok. The residual effects of her own extended stay in stasis must be catching up with her.
“Never mind,” he rounded the bed, coming to rest against the counter next to her. A scaly claw found its way to her shoulder, gave her a bracing squeeze. “Follow your instincts with this one. Keep your senses open. If your mental abilities alert you to something, follow up on it. Above all, be on your guard. That’s all I can tell you.”
“Yeah, thanks for that,” she said faintly, covering Ssszit’s razor-sharp digits carefully. She hated using her mental abilities, and, frankly, she didn’t think that it was safe to do so. But she couldn’t tell Ssszit that.
The countdown clock began to pulse, a signal that there were mere moments before the Corian, Commander Vank, awoke. She needed to dredge up her inner badass. Right now.
Chapter Five
Vank
“Come on, you big bastard, it’s time to wake up.” The voice was husky and female. And obviously not a native Corian speaker.
There was a small splash followed by a spattering of cool liquid on his face.
“Water is precious out here, so that’s all you get for now,” she teased, tone edging toward hard rather than playful. “Open those eyes, Warrior, and face your fate.”
Vank tried using his sixth sense to read the character of the female, but stars went nova behind his eyelids. A great beast balanced on his forehead, pinning him down with squeezing claws. “Where am I?” Coughing, he opened his eyes the barest of cracks. He couldn’t hear the answer as his body rebelled, retching and heaving.
He recognized the side effects of coming out of a regen bed.
The skirmish with the VENTIX vessel and the cereshields on his warship breaking apart as they entered the wormhole flooded his memory. So, they’d survived the ill-fated jump. Well, he had.
“I’m sure you have a lot of questions.” The speaker’s shadow blocked some of the stabbing light from his weeping eyes. “But I don’t think you’re going to like the answers.”
“It’s like that, is it?” He struggled against the instinct to slam his lids shut and stared until the dark blob resolved into a blonde female. Though her features were lovely, they were set in a decidedly hostile expression. He realized he was immobilized, unable to move much more than his eyes and his mouth.
“Exactly like that,” she agreed coolly, placing a steadying palm on either side of his face. “Here’s the situation, Commander: you’re a guest on this ship until your High Council or your family choose to pay my finders’ fee.”
“I see.” Vank narrowed his eyes, focusing in on the startling green of hers. His world tilted, and he had the oddest sensation, like he knew this female. More than knew her, that she was a part of him. He could feel her heart beating, could see himself through her eyes.
But that wasn’t possible. He closed his eyes, tried to clear his mind. It must be the after effects of whatever sedative this regen bed utilized.
No matter, he would remember everything about this female, he promised himself. And, one day, their roles would be reversed. They’d see how she liked being stripped down and at his mercy.
She released his face as if burnt by the contact. “I doubt it.” She snapped a thermal blanket out and allowed it to float down over his torso. “You are one big male,” she commented, moving out of his limited field of vision and repeating the action. “It’ll take two to cover you.”
“Now, where were we?” She leaned directly into his line of sight once more, placing a delicate hand near his head, making herself comfortable. Close, without making contact now.
She was tall, ducking down to loom over him. The weight of her upper body on her arms had muscles in her shoulders dancing. This female was definitely a fighter, toned and ready to inflict damage her eyes said it as loudly as her aggressive posture. “Oh yes, we were about to discuss my expectations for your conduct.”
“You’re holding me for ransom and you want me to be – what? Cordial?” His sarcasm didn’t appear to bother her if the smug tilt of her chin, the amused flick of her eyebrow was any indication. Though the pulse at her neck fluttered quickly in contrast with her calm front. Curious.
“Commander, you’re going to be a model guest.” She smiled frostily, leaning closer. “I have one of your crew and a female, yours I’m assuming, all tucked away in regen beds. If you do as I ask, both will continue to slumber, blissfully unaware of what is going on.”
Vank wanted to ask questions. Which of his Warriors had survived? What did this female look like? But he didn’t want her to use his concern against him. Better to play it her way, give her the attitude she expected. “And if I don’t?”
; Her eyes iced to a glittering green. “One or the other will go out the airlock. My choice, of course.”
Vank didn’t want to believe her, but she was pushing the right buttons and he couldn’t get a good read on her. There should not have been any females left aboard the Horizon when they engaged the VENTIX. He had ordered all the Claimed females to the evacuation pods, but he would hate for some hapless female to perish needlessly. And, if she were telling the truth about one of his brother Warriors surviving, Vank knew he would do as she asked.
“What are your ‘expectations’?”
“You’ll find I’m quite reasonable. The amenities here are somewhat humble compared to what you’re used to,” she paused to sweep her eyes disdainfully down his body and back up. “But I trust the state room I’ve prepared for you will be adequate. All you must do is provide proof of life when called upon. And, of course, recognize your role here, govern yourself accordingly.”
“That’s it? Just tell the High Council that I’m alive?” Was she serious? A holo of him in a regen bed would have been sufficient evidence for the High Council. Though the CORANOS had a firm policy of non-negotiation with those who would seek to exploit, he had confidence the High Council would submit to any ransom demanded. It would cause a public uproar if they didn’t bring home a member of the Corian Royal House.
“Indeed. They’re quite insistent that you are dead and have been for months.” She didn’t bother masking her annoyance. “It’s as if they don’t want you back, and that just won’t do, Commander. It’s time to give them a little nudge.”
“That doesn’t bode well,” Vank kept his voice neutral, probing for her intentions. He couldn’t see her torturing him. And he was a good judge of character – had made his reputation on his ability to read the potential in others.