by Keri Kruspe
“Stop right here, boy.” The command rumbled about a foot above his head. Damn, those Runihura’s were freakin’ intimidating with their advanced height. This one must be at least eight feet tall.
“Boy.” JR10 snickered in his internal communicator. “He keeps calling you boy.”
“Shut up,” D’zia mumbled back.
Why they stopped in this spot, D’zia had no idea. He was glad his natural ability allowed him to see in the dark. Too bad the only things around were more rocks, shrubs, and dirt. A motion to his left made him swivel his head to see what was coming.
At first, it was hard to figure out what he saw other than several humanoids coming toward them. To his surprise, the one out front appeared familiar. Sort of. The leader was a rare Merkaba female, but not the one Qay introduced him to when requesting aid in infiltrating the Chancellor’s guards. While similar, this one had purple highlights instead of pink. Her group of five stopped a few lengths in front of him. The leader crossed her upper arms under her generous chest as the lower arms fisted on her slim hips.
“And who are you?” Her singsong voice didn’t have the alien inflection the other Merkaba female, Hayami, did. Her lilac eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“Shysutá!” The traitorous little bug in his hair scurried out of his hidden nest to rest at the tip of D’zia’s head. “Is that you?” The little bot vibrated so hard, D’zia was afraid he’d fall off in excitement.
“JR10?” She squealed in a high-pitched cry, her incredulous expression giving way to joy. Running toward D’zia, she stopped close enough for him to see her purple eyelashes. She opened her top palms for the spybot to jump onto.
Shysutá was typical of her wispy, lithe species. Her signature colors were various shades of purple. She kept her lilac-colored tresses clipped close on the back of her head, with long curls flowing down her side and resting above her waist. The last two inches were a dark, deep pool of purple. Her pointed face had a light smattering of bangs above her large expressive pupils in the same mesmerizing color as the bottom of her hair. Her pale lilac skin was as smooth as porcelain.
D’zia was male enough to appreciate Shysutá’s outfit. Twin triangles of barely there blue cloth tied around her neck and around her back covered her full breasts. She wore a black, animal-hide thick jacket with matching fingerless gloves that adorned her two sets of hands. Her black, tight skirt fell just below her rounded bottom. On her firm, muscular legs, she had thigh-high black boots with towering heels that would give any reasonable creature a nosebleed. To complete the badass outfit, strapped into a holster at her back were two long katana swords whose gleaming silver handles crisscrossed behind her shoulders.
D’zia didn’t move a muscle at the stern, small smile she aimed his way. Her large, amethyst eyes pulsated as she examined him. As a whole, the female of the Merkaba species was gorgeous, but he she didn’t fool him. She was deadlier than the Runihura behind him.
He sucked in a relieved breath when her large, round eyes moved away from him to focus on his spybot. She trilled in the Merkaba language, which JR10 had no trouble answering. It reminded D’zia of a musical concert made solely of flutes he once attended. On the surface, it might have been soothing, but it irritated him. Especially since the nano-translators were useless in telling him what they said.
“So,” the female stopped speaking to JR10 and D’zia once again found himself her focus. Her sharp gaze ran up and down his body. “We have much to talk about, hmm, Zerin?”
Instant relief had D’zia releasing a breath he didn’t realize he’d held. With those few words, he knew the Merkaba wouldn’t kill him. He blinked to keep from smiling like an idiot. Once again, the Goddess showed her love for him as he dodged potential disaster. By the nine systems, he might be getting a break in this nightmare.
“Yes, Rouva,” he used the title of respect to a female. He gave her a little bow as he kept his eyes on her.
Shysutá addressed the Runihura. “Aylzrunth, bring him to the main consulting room.” She narrowed her purple orbs at D’zia. “After you find him something suitable to wear and eat, hmm?” She turned with JR10 balanced on her tiny palms as they continued whatever conversation they were having, the four nondescript humanoids following her.
“Come on, boy.” Behind him, the gravelly voice of the male accompanied a poke at D’zia’s back with the barrel of the blaster. He forced D’zia to walk in front of him. “Follow my direction.”
No one had to tell him twice.
* * *
CHANCELLOR U’UNK
“I’m sure I did not hear you correctly,” Chancellor U’unk whispered. He clenched his fingers tight into his palms to avoid committing violence against the messenger. He sat on his massive alabaster throne in the main audience chamber, his back stiff and unyielding. He glared at his equerry who splayed face first on the marble floor quivering. The opulent round room boasted priceless works of art from around the galaxy along with vids of past Chancellors. The atmosphere was a comfortable temperature, the right humidity to nurture the smattering of growing plants.
“Forgive, sire, forgive the necessity of bringing this news to you.” Fritjof rose and bowed. He scraped and squashed his ugly forehead into the floor each time he moved. “I do not like bringing you bad news, but I fear you must know.”
Of course, the irritating norakthed had to tell him something this important. He, however, didn’t have to like the information.
“I suggest you repeat what you said.” He kept his voice low. Not that he needed to hear it again, he just enjoyed watching the little Erkek squirm.
Yes, sire…yes, sire.” The Erkek squealed in a breathless voice as he genuflected up and down. “I’m afraid the prison pod carrying D’zia E’etu has disappeared. Its homing beacon has stopped and we are unable to locate it.”
Anger burned. “And what has been done to locate it?” His kept his voice above a whisper. A bad habit to be sure, because it telegraphed how livid he was. It did him no good to have his underlings second-guess his intentions. That was something he must rectify sooner rather than later.
“Master…uh, sire,” Fritjof’s face remained glued to his knees in palpable terror, “there is no way to track it. The signal vanished once they were out of vid sight from the main ship, and somehow the fuel tracks are untraceable. It’s as if the whole pod disappeared into thin space!” His voice quivered.
The acidic sweat coming from the Erkek made U’unk’s nose twitch as he savored the smell. “When did it disappear? Did they try to go back and retrace its last recorded coordinates?”
“Yes, sire. Most assuredly, sire.” Fritjof’s muffled voice was difficult to follow with his face and lips plastered on his shins. “But they had to resume their course to FiPan as low fuel became an issue.”
Incompetent, worthless puntneji bastards. Including the spineless imbecile in front of him.
“You inform that useless commanding officer he’d better turn around and find my lost prisoner.” U’unk leaned from the height of his chair as he gripped the intricate gold carvings at the armrests. “I know I don’t have to tell you the consequences to him and his crew if they fail me.”
Fritjof quivered as he groveled. “Yes, sire, your will be done.” The Erkek stepped backward with his head bowed. “Will there be anything else, sire?”
U’unk envisioned the torture he’d enjoy giving the equerry in a slow, methodical manner. The vision helped him to remain calm. A few microclicks passed before he answered. “No.” He leaned back in his massive blizzard-white chair and crossed an ankle over the knee. He folded his fingers into a steeple and placed the tips under his chin. “Oh, and Fritjof.”
“Yes, sire?”
U’unk savored the spasm he heard in the Erkek’s voice. “If they fail, then so do you.” He spoke in the barest of whispers. “Understand?”
The sickly green skin on the Erkek paled into a mottled yellow. “Completely, sire.”
* * *
LORA
Lora had to stifle the urge to throw a full-body toddler tantrum while the love of her life remained in mortal danger. Standing in the middle of her small cell, she clenched her fingers and crimped her neck back and forth to calm down. The main plan was to get D’zia after she escaped. JR11’s tiny legs scrambled across her shoulder and perched as she gave an update on what was going on around the ship. JR11 was a godsend, infiltrating the ship’s systems and coming back with all sorts of interesting factoids.
Lora laughed when JR11 told her the guards were all in a frenzy because D’zia’s ship had vanished from their tracking system. Accusations flew between the small crew since they did not understand how an unconscious prisoner and an unmanned prison pod could be lost. The internal chatter erupted in panic when word came back the Chancellor ordered them to turn around to recover the missing pod. Like true subordinates, the crew acknowledged their orders and then disregarded them. The ship was low on fuel, with barely enough resources to get them to FiPan. They were going to dump Lora, fuel up, and head back to the last known coordinates of the prison pod to resume their search.
JR11 let her know D’zia’s disappearance was JR10’s doing, which was a relief. If JR10 was responsible, D’zia and his little companion would be all right.
The image of D’zia crossed her mind as her heart squeezed in response. His extraordinary features captivated her, from the points of his ears on down. Physically, she’d never seen a more beautiful man. Tears welled as she relived their brief time together, and her body throbbed in pain at their enforced separation. With a thick swallow, she concentrated on each inhalation to banish the urge to curl up in agony at their forced parting. Nice, slow breaths helped bring her back from the black abyss she wanted to get lost in.
Yes…nice and slow…that’s it. You can do this. D’zia had explained that during the TrueBond process, the two would be extra sensitive to separation for any length of time. Once they were back together, the overwhelming panic would smooth itself out.
Having resolved the intense anxiety in her mind, she focused on finding a way off this stupid ship. At first, she and JR11 planned to leave before they reached FiPan, but the opportunity never came up. Now the ship was docking at the criminal stronghold. All sorts of nefarious (humph…not a word she ever considered using before) dudes ruled the place. The head honcho on FiPan was evidently named The Dread Pirate Maynwaring. Dread Pirate? What kind of name was that? It sounded like a character from another one of those old movies her mom used to watch. How could anyone take him seriously? If it hadn’t been JR11 giving her the scoop on the disgusting and varied things about the criminal, she wouldn’t have believed any of it.
JR11’s soft voice warned her the ship had landed and guards were on their way to get her. Okay, time for plan B.
“Is everything in place for us to get away?” Using the internal communication, Lora whispered to the little spybot. “You sure you got their frequencies so you can zap them when we walk out of this dumb cell?”
“Of course, Miss Lora. All is ready,” JR11’s soothing voice whispered back. “After Dr. Knum’Nz leaves the ship, I’ll emit a silent sonic blast to render the rest of the crew unconscious. It will give us enough time to get to an escape pod and head back into Zerin space.”
“And you’ll be able to cloak us enough to avoid detection? And will we have enough fuel to get there?” Lora hated to be negative, but she didn’t want to die in space if she could help it.
“Yes,” came the calm reply. “As long as the ship’s records are current, our odds of survival are well within acceptable parameters.”
“Okay, sounds good.” She paced in the small confines of her cell. There were no guarantees in life, especially when planning an escape from a mad scientist. “What are they doing now?”
There was a pause while JR11 interfaced with the ship’s computer. “The Erkek doctor has left the ship and has taken two of the soldiers with him. Wait a minute.” The little bot was quiet for a few moments. “Now the remaining four are coming to get you. Wait until the force field goes down, then I will render them immobile.”
Sure enough, metal-clad guards came into view in front of her cell.
“Move back, human.” The one to her right had to be the leader.
“Sure thing, handsome.” Lora quipped in a cheerful voice.
He didn’t respond to her snarky remark. The guy waved a hand to turn off the deadly field in front of her. “Hold out your arms, palms down,” he commanded.
“Nope, don’t want to.” Lora couldn’t resist saying before the males flopped in a boneless heap to the floor at the same time. Ouch, good thing they had helmets on, or that would have hurt.
“Whoo-hoo! Good job, JR11.” Lora gave a little dance of freedom. “Okay, which way to the escape pod?” She tiptoed through the tangled bodies on the floor before she checked up and down the corridor to make sure no one was around.
“Turn left.” Came the quiet reply.
“Gotcha.” Lora worked her way over and around the bodies to walk along the empty corridor. “Everyone down?” she asked aloud.
“Everyone but me,” came a metallic, tittering feminine voice behind her.
Squealing in alarm, Lora spun around and blinked twice. What in the world was that?
It was a female, sort of. She was humanoid in appearance, with bright metallic orange skin, a bald head, and three green eyes in an arc across her forehead. Her body was lush and reminded Lora of her old Barbie doll…that is, if Barbie had three large boobs. But with her tiny waist and legs so toned and long, this couldn’t be an organic being. And some male must have dressed her since clothing was optional. She wore a wispy bit of something yellow that hardly covered the rosy areolas and shaved mound.
“Oh, a sexbot.” JR11’s tone was matter-of-fact.
A sexbot? What in the hell was a sexbot? Not that she cared…she was in the middle of an escape here. “Lady, I don’t have time for you.” Lora turned to run but a strong hand grasped her upper arm and prevented her from moving.
“What the…?” Lora tried to pull out of the firm grip. “Let me go, you oversized Barbie doll!”
“My master has requested your presence. Please come with me.” The grip on her upper arm didn’t hurt, but it was strong enough to bruise.
“What? No!” Lora tried again to dislodge the firm hold. “Let me go! JR11, can you zap this bitch?”
“I am so sorry, Miss Lora.” There were tears in JR11’s smoky voice. “Even though she is an artificial lifeform, I am unable to penetrate her interface.”
“Come with me. I must bring you to my master.” The orange sexbot lifted Lora off the floor and placed in a firefighter’s carry over her shoulder.
“Holy shamoka, lady! Put me down!” Lora wiggled and squirmed to get loose, but the cyborg’s sharp grip didn’t budge. She fisted her hand to thump on the robot’s back, but she might as well have been trying to hit the ship for all the good it did her.
They went through and off the ship, walking on the dim cobbled street that smelled suspiciously like urine. The dank atmosphere plastered Lora’s one-piece prison jumper to her skin. The heavy material combined with the humidity of the planet caused her body to break out in a sweat.
“Damn it! Put me down!” She was invisible for all the attention the machine paid her. After a few more colorful cuss words and ineffective squirming, Lora gave up and made a brave attempt to take in her surroundings
It being dark out, she couldn’t see much…especially with her head upside down. But she sure could smell the offal around her and tried to avoid the odors by breathing through her mouth. Feces and urine mixed with a myriad of body orders laced heavy with angst and despair. The sexbot’s feet splashed in a shallow ribbon of liquid running down the middle of the cobbled road. Trash and debris swirled around the oppressive air, floating in delicate dust devils.
None too soon, the robot stopped, and Lora put her hands on the bot’s back to lift up and see where they we
re. A large, steel door opened and they went through an immense foyer. Lora knew nothing about art or priceless artifacts, but she’d bet her last dollar the richness around her was the real deal. There wasn’t a bare surface on the walls since actual paintings mixed with vid displays covered them. Surrounding her were exquisite rugs, furnishings, and sculptures.
At least the air was cooler and didn’t make her want to gag. Lora was glad to inhale a pleasing aroma of sweet vanilla.
Going through another doorway, the sexbot brought her to a large circular room encased in mirrors. Wow, it was like the transportation mirrors on board the StarChance, except for the pillows and cushions strewn across the floor. Here the overgrown doll dropped her unceremoniously on one of those soft, large pillows. Lora landed with a painful thud on her tailbone.
“Ouch! That hurt, you bitch.” She rolled and got up, rubbing her offended posterior.
The orange-skinned cyborg gave a small bow before placing her palms together in front of her. “My master will be with you momentarily.” She intoned the words in her breathless voice.
“Oh yeah?” Lora folded her arms across her chest. “And just who is your master?”
The smile crossing the vinyl, full lips were creepy as hell. “Why, my master…the Dread Pirate Maynwaring.” She left through one of the mirrors.
Chapter Five
D’ZIA
After taking a shower and putting hot food in his belly, D’zia was more than ready to meet with his “hosts.” No telling if he was with friends or foes since he hadn’t heard from JR10 since he jumped in the Merkaba’s hands.
In the room they’d given him, he found a pair of pants on the bed he could use. He worried about Lora. Even though they hadn’t completed the TrueBond process, he still experienced the longing and ache that went with their separation. His chest squeezed in pain. He rubbed his fist across the skin as if it would somehow help. Taking a deep breath, he eyed a shirt hanging in an open closet. He walked over to grab it, putting his arms through the sleeves of the lightweight, natural fiber white shirt. He had just sealed it shut when the door to the small chamber opened. In walked the bulky Runihura male he’d met before, complete with a frown and a semi-drawn disintegration blaster at his side.