A Shift in the Sky_In the Stars Romance

by Suki Selborne

  "Is the person who needs the chip living in a major city?" Jalton asks.

  "He's just outside the capital. If we land somewhere in the Porglissimo region, I can contact him from there."

  "That'll work." He speaks the location command aloud, and the ship's computer confirms our path. It's a very businesslike voice. I prefer the varied tones of my Neela, and even though I know she's only an artificial voice, I kind of miss her.

  We land in a quiet part of the Porglissimo district on Quintagon. It's a place where a lot of trade ships come and go, so we're able to enter without too much fuss. I speak to the transit supervisor as soon as we get there.

  "Tollajif asked us to come," I say in a low voice. The supervisor nods. He's part of the Resistance too. Most transit workers are.

  "Go right through. No need for paperwork. I'll sign that you're an authorized entrant."

  "Thank you," I say, giving the customary Quintagonian bow. He returns it. Jalton copies the gesture, and the two of us walk through the gates like we're just a pair of regular traders.

  "Will I be recognized here?" Jalton asks, looking around discreetly.

  “Well, I don’t know. Let’s see. You're still wearing a uniform. Is that something people will associate with the Imperial Order royal family?"

  "No, this is a prison inspection shifter's uniform."

  "Then you're golden. People will just think you work for the big guys."

  We keep walking, until I reach a public call interface. It's a silver pole with a pink spotted rectangle on it. Perfect for intergalactic visitors who might not have the right calling plan to use their cellphones on this world.

  I say the codewords and add "Tollajif". Turning to Jalton, I whisper "That's the local name for our contact. He has a codename in the Resistance, but his real name is Tollajif. If anybody asks, we're delivering a consignment to him later this month and we're just checking his storage facilities."

  "Got it."

  There's a crackle of static and then Tollajif's voice rings out of the pole.

  "Don't say my name," I warn him immediately in a low voice. Then I speak at a normal volume. "Tollajif, we're just checking your storage capacity for the consignment. We need to ensure you have the correct facilities available. May we meet with you today?"

  "Absolutely," Tollajif says, with a smile in his voice. "Please wait for me at the traders' canteen and I'll take you to my storage unit."

  Nervousness prickles across my skin. We're pretty safe here on Quintagon, I reason, because surely Jalton's uncle would have caught us before we got here? But I can't help but feel concerned.

  Jalton still looks too tall, handsome and regal to be a trader, but he's doing his best not to stand out. He keeps his eyes low and somehow manages to pass as a normal person.

  "Don't shift," I warn him. "Not even if someone annoys you."

  "Of course not. I'm not an idiot."

  "Okay. Just making sure."

  At the traders’ canteen, we pick at a bowl of tasteless rice and edible flowers, and some kind of protein. I suspect it's probably bugs of some kind. Maybe crickets. There's a crunch and a spiciness which is just about bearable, but I'm not that hungry. I just want to get this transaction done. We still have the return journey to make. If Tollajif has distributed the material by then, the entire galaxy is going to be watching the story unfold. The chances of us arriving on Jalton's home planet quietly will be approximately zero.

  At last, Tollajif arrives. He slides into the seat next to Jalton. He's about half Jalton's height, with cropped dark red hair and olive green skin. The color combination really works for him.

  "You did not tell me you would have company," Tollajif says, looking through narrowed eyes at Jalton, and then back at me.

  "Ah, yes. My colleague is an essential part of this job. I trust you don't mind my bringing him?"

  Tollajif nods deeply. "If he is essential to your side of the operation, then I am content."

  We make small talk for a few minutes, so nobody watching us will be suspicious. Then, as casually as possible, I rest my boot on my knee. Tollajif reads the signs and smiles.

  "I'm so happy you could make it here for the trade," he says.

  "Me too." I start talking about anything and nothing, just filling the air with pointless chatter, while I very carefully open my boot's secret compartment. Reaching under the table, I slide out the chip.

  "Well, I am reassured that you have the correct storage facilities for our consignment. Perhaps you could show us those on our next visit."

  "I would be honored," Tollajif says. We all stand and bow. Jalton looks at me pointedly. I wink at him.

  "Oh yes," I add. "Tollajif, would you also please send a copy of the data you have to this account?" Jalton tells Tollajif the address, and Tollajif closes his eyes for a moment. Then he bows. "It is memorized. I will send the copy now, from the transmitter in my personal vehicle."

  “Perfect.”

  "And allow me to bid you farewell in the traditional Earth manner," Tollajif adds, and holds out a hand. I take his and shake it, and we bow again. The chip transfers seamlessly from my palm to his during the handshake.

  "I will be in touch," Tollajif says, and smiles broadly. Then he walks away, with the precious cargo I risked my life to bring here.

  Relief floods over me. I feel like I'm lying down in the surf, letting the warm tropical ocean glide over me and float me away. “We did it,” I whisper.

  "May I take you home now?" Jalton says. "My home planet is many vaylons from here. I want to get you back safely as quickly as we can. I'm going to look out for a wormhole to speed up the journey."

  "Sounds good," I say, unable to stop myself grinning like a crazy Cheshire cat. The nerves have been replaced by exhilaration.

  We did it. We got the chip to Tollajif. We're going to bring down the Imperial Order. Or, at least, the part of it that's corrupt.

  I can't even imagine how living in the galaxy will feel without the fist of the Imperial Order being slammed into our faces all the time, but it'll be awesome to find out.

  "You think Tollajif will send the file as quickly as he suggested?" Jalton asks, as we thread our way through the crowds. We're walking slowly, because rushing back to the vehicle will set off an automatic transit gate inspection. We've got this far and we don't want to spoil it now.

  "I expect so," I say. "He's a man of his word."

  Jalton appears thoughtful. "And he will spread the information through his network?"

  "Now he has hard evidence, he'll spread it everywhere. Every intergalactic news source. All over the cosmonet. The news media wouldn't touch the story if there wasn't any evidence. Everyone talks about Imperial Order brutality all the time on a personal level, but there's never any way to prove it. But now there is. Dates, places, names, photographs, even videos. They're all on that chip."

  Jalton is quiet for a moment. I start to worry.

  "Wait a second," I say. "You're not starting to regret doing this are you? I mean, because it's your family..." I trail off.

  He stops and faces me, taking both my hands. "Are you kidding? Of course I don't regret it. What I regret is not knowing about any of this before I met you. I should have been working to change things from the day I came of age. I regret taking no interest in politics, like my father. We're just a bunch of spoiled rich boys living in luxury, wasting our time and doing nothing to earn our lavish lifestyles."

  "Well, if you put it like that--" I smile. “Nah. Come on. You're okay, dude. You're a good guy. Take me home now."

  "I thought you’d never ask,” he says, with a sexy smile that basically melts my panties right under my stretchy superhero onesie.

  We're nearly at the transit gate now, so we slow down even more to an idle saunter. Traders are usually lazy and like to stretch out their assignments, to make sure they don't get sent on any extras. Jalton follows my lead, and we joke together while we amble along.

  The gate is within touching distance
when suddenly I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn to look behind me.

  "Commander Corby Frayne, you are under arrest."

  My hands are torn roughly behind me and clipped together.

  Jalton hits the people handcuffing me, and they fall backward. But then something terrible happens. Someone shoots Jalton with a stun gun. I scream. He drops to his knees, his eyes only partly open now.

  "What the hell are you doing?" I shriek over my shoulder.

  "You've gone too far this time, Wildcat," my captor says. His voice is a menacing sneer. "And you even dragged a royal into the gutter with you. That'll count against you when you appear before the Imperial Court."

  "Who are you?"

  "We are enforcers," he says. "And you don’t have such a smart mouth now, I notice. That's good. That’s just as it should be. I have questions to ask you. And you’re going to answer them.”

  “Why would I talk to you?”

  “Because every time you talk back to me, or refuse to answer, or do anything at all I don’t like, I have official permission to do this."

  And then he hits me. Right across the face. I gasp in shock, tasting blood.

  Jalton roars, even though he’s not in his lion form, and grabs the enforcer's leg. He yanks him down onto the floor, aiming a heavy punch at his face.

  Right before Jalton's fist can connect, he's shot with the stream of the stun gun again. Only this time there are three more enforcers with guns, all shooting him it at once. Not even a royal lion shifter can withstand that.

  Jalton drops back to the floor. There’s a flash of angry lion across his face, and then it’s gone. He sinks down, unconscious.

  "No!" I screech.

  Kicking and yelling, I’m dragged into the back of some kind of road vehicle. There are no windows and it’s hot and airless.

  As I stumble backward with my hands bound, I fall over something on the floor.

  It’s Tollajif’s lifeless body.

  My friend and colleague lies beside me, staring up at nothing.

  I scream.

  Then the doors slam, and I’m left alone with poor Tollajif in the darkness.

  13 Jalton

  My lion roars inside me. How it would love to swipe the insolence off their faces with one mighty paw.

  “Oh, come now, Your Highness.” The man opposite me almost drops his gun, he’s so amused. His mocking tone makes me want to tear him limb from limb. “Who do you think arranged all of this?” He gestures to the rest of his crew with one open hand. "Your family knows what it wants. As always."

  "You're telling me my own family wanted me to be shot with a stun gun?" I laugh back at him, with scorn in my voice. "Hardly."

  “Who else? Hit squads cost money. Your uncle has plenty.”

  My lion goes crazy inside. “My uncle? I presume you mean Mirodag?”

  “That’s the guy. Great boss. Actually, he’s not such a great boss. But we know what's best for us. Your uncle wanted Corby removed, and he wanted you brought to your senses. And here we are. The right men for the job. Ready, willing and able."

  They all laugh again, and my inner lion just about explodes with righteous fury.

  "Is my uncle here?" I clench my fists, ice shooting down my spine. "Bring him to me."

  "It's not for you to issue orders, Your Highness," the leader says, even more pointedly than before. “Not any more. But you shall have your wish. Your uncle wants you brought to him when he arrives. He should be here soon."

  The room we are in is comfortable, and I am not shackled. But six men stand over me with guns. And this time they aren't just for immobilization. These are real lethal weapons. By the sound of it, they would not hesitate to use them.

  Violence would be good right now. My lion wants me to inflict violence. It wants to shred these fools and go rescue Corby Frayne.

  But my rational side knows that is not the right way. Even if I did manage to break out of here and find Corby, there will be another layer of security with guns. And another. And another. We will never be free of my uncle's many tentacles if we simply try to run.

  I'm going to have to play my uncle’s game more cleverly than that.

  "Fine," I say, sinking back onto my bench. "Okay. You win. I'll see him. Let me know when he's here." I rest my head on the wall behind the bench and close my eyes, as though I'm catching up on a nap.

  The men think they have won somehow, because I appear to be backing down. After a few snickers and catcalls, they begin to talk among themselves and leave me alone.

  But I am not asleep. I am listening to every word they say, and planning my next move.

  One way or another, I am getting out of here. And I am taking Corby with me.

  "You always were an easily-led milquetoast, Jalton," Uncle Mirodag says, when he arrives. He lifts his chin and peers disapprovingly at me down his nose.

  I need to get my furious inner lion under control. So I promise it a treat later if it behaves itself now. The anger still courses around my body, but I manage to restrain my urge to shift. If that bastard can keep his animal in check, so can I.

  "I don't understand why you're going to all this trouble just for one little Wildcat," I say, wiping a drip from the cup in front of me. "It's almost as though you have something to hide. Something the Wildcat could reveal, if you're not careful."

  His face is as cool and emotionless as ever. "The girl is a criminal. A thief, a traitor, and a liar. You should be careful, Jalton. You can tell a lot about a person by the company they keep."

  "Very true."

  We stare each other down for a while. Eventually, I break the silence.

  "So what now? How does this end? What is it you're planning to do with the girl, and with me?"

  Uncle Mirodag takes a deep breath and smooths down his robe. "The girl is currently being put to use. And you? Well, that depends."

  "Put to use?" I say sharply.

  Uncle Mirodag leans forward. "Don't tell me you have feelings for the urchin?"

  I keep my expression neutral. "It brings the Imperial Order into disrepute if its prisoners are treated badly."

  "Oh, come now, Jalton. Nobody in the galaxy gives a fig if prisoners are treated badly. They should not have committed crime if they did not wish to be punished for it."

  "What are you doing with the girl?"

  "As I say, she is being put to use. She will be a welcome addition to the managerial hostess chalet. She's not fit to serve as a companion to higher-born noblemen, of course. But her charms will suffice for the middle ranking officials."

  My blood runs cold. My lion is just about ready to start a fucking war. Beautiful, fragrant Corby is not being bought and sold as a companion. Not while I still draw breath.

  But I have to remember my uncle holds all the aces here. I am in no position to change things, unless I do so wisely.

  I remember the game with my brother and Kaljo. It was so recent, and yet it feels so long ago. If I had not agreed to Reago's bet, I would not be in this position.

  But then Corby Frayne would be dead. And so all this must be down to Fate. It must be.

  Fate demands that I handle this with finesse and subtlety. I will not disappoint Fate.

  "Then we have a problem, Uncle." I lean back, legs wide apart, arms resting on the back of the bench. "Corby Frayne is to be my companion. I say she is fit to serve me. I may consider releasing her to the criminal justice system once I have had my fill of her. But for now, she is reserved. There is a virtual sign around her neck, with my name on it."

  It makes me feel sick to speak of my beautiful girl like this, but I must win her freedom by any means necessary. For now, this is the only way.

  "You wish to use the girl yourself?"

  "Naturally. Why on earth do you think I abducted her from the prison cell in the first place?" I laugh heartily.

  "You accompanied her to the handing over of Imperial Order secrets. That was no accident.”

  "That chip was worthless, Uncle. Do you
think I would have let the recipient get away, if it had not been?" I know I'm pushing my luck with this line.

  "It does not matter anyway,” Uncle Mirodag says, shrugging. “The Resistance member named Tollajif is dead. We tidied up the fallout from your messy handiwork, Jalton."

  Tollajif is dead?

  Guilt and bile rise in my throat. I should have done something to stop this. I should have gone to my father before my uncle went completely insane with power.

  "I'm going to need Corby Frayne returned to me," I say, keeping my voice light with supreme effort.

  There's a glint in my uncle's eye. He is a sadistic man, who loves to watch people suffer. I imagine he will do his very best to torture me about Corby, for as long as he can. And I can take it. Just so long as he leaves her the hell alone.

  "What's it worth to you, oh beloved nephew?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Well, now. It's obviously important to you to get sexual favors from this Earth harpy. What will you give me if I allow you an intimate visit?"

  "I'm not asking for an intimate visit. I'm telling you I'm taking her away with me."

  "Telling. Interesting choice of word." Uncle Mirodag rubs his pointed chin and regards me through narrowed eyes. "I am prepared to allow you time with the prisoner. On two conditions."

  "Name them." How my lion longs to throw him across the room.

  "One. You dispose of her when you have finished, or pass her back to my team to do the dirty work if you aren't up to it."

  My lion is on the very edge of breaking free. I will it to stay contained, for just a while longer. "And two?"

  "Two is that you forget you ever heard of that chip. It never happened. You didn't meet the traitors, you never came her to Quintagon, and you never heard of any controversy surrounding our family. Is that clear?"

  "I hear you," I say. "But I'm not sure about your plan. There might be a better way we can negotiate this."

  Uncle Mirodag looks taken aback. "Such as?"

  I lean back in my chair and shoot him an arrogant grin.

  "We play a game. If I win, I get to do whatever I like with the girl. Including taking her away with me as my travel companion. If you win, you can do as you wish with us both. Winner takes all."