The cheers that went up weren’t particularly heartfelt. Most of the room likely agreed with Striker and was hoping that Wolf would leave now that he had what he wanted.
The pirate captain gave Marat an icy smile, one that said he didn’t appreciate that he’d had to pay so much for this woman, then spoke to his androids again. “Boris Seven, you’re with me. Five, see to it that the slave is paid for and cleaned up. I’ll expect her in my quarters tonight, chained to the post. Do bring in my special set of tools too.” This time, his smile, almost as icy as the one he had given Marat, was for Ying Wei. He looked her up and down with open lust that filled Marat with fury.
“Yes, sir,” the androids said.
Finally, the pirate had looked his fill. He strode to the stairs with one of the androids on his heels. Marat whirled, looking for something to hit. He almost attacked Striker, frustrated that the sergeant had dragged him into this situation and made him aware of this evil, but he spotted the post and pounded his palm into it instead. It might have looked like wood, but it was as unyielding as metal, and a jolt of pain ran up his arm.
“This mean you don’t want to try for another one?” Striker asked.
Marat bared his teeth. Maybe he should have punched Striker after all.
“It means...” Marat watched the remaining android walk to a desk in a corner where a holographic interface waited to accept its master’s payment. If it was just the one android that would be taking her to the pirate’s ship... Marat chewed on his lip, the inkling of an idea forming in his mind. Maybe it wasn’t too late to save the woman from the pirate’s torture chamber. “I need your help.”
“Uh. Doing what?”
“Rescuing that woman.”
“From a pirate captain? That’s not smart, Azarov. I’m not helping with that.”
“What happened to halfsies?” Marat didn’t truly expect Striker to help. This was his own suicidal idea, and he shouldn’t lead others into it. Yet it stung him to know that a fellow mercenary would leave him to face the cold of space alone. Back when he had been Fleet, his comrades had been different, a different caliber of men. He had known it when he signed on here.
“Don’t just think about your dick,” Striker said. “You make trouble between Wolf’s outfit and Mandrake’s, and we could all get into some ugly fighting where there’s no money at stake, and nobody wins. Losses of people and equipment for no reason. Mandrake will have your head.”
“I wasn’t thinking with my dick, you idiot,” Marat snapped. How dare Striker, of all people, accuse him of that? “I was—look, he’s going to torture her and who knows what else. Nobody deserves that.”
Striker’s expression was utterly blank. Devoid of understanding? Marat snarled in frustration, tempted to hit something else. Someone else, maybe.
“Oh, you’re thinking with your heart,” Striker said slowly. Maybe he had an inkling of understanding after all. “That’s even stupider.”
Marat growled. “If you won’t help, fine. It’s not your problem. I get it. But at least leave me some of your grenades.”
Striker worked his jaw back and forth, deep in thought apparently. “Nah,” he finally said. “Nobody makes the booms except for me.” Marat was about to stalk away, but Striker added, “I’ll help you.”
“You will?”
“Yeah.” Striker sighed. “Captain wouldn’t want me leaving you alone to find trouble. ’Course he wouldn’t want us picking fights, either. Why do I have a feeling I’m going to get my ass chewed no matter what I do?”
Marat gave him an edged smile. “I don’t know, but either way, I bet you won’t take me to a slave auction again.”
Striker gazed wistfully at the woman he had wanted to buy. “Probably not.”
2
Ying walked the corridors of the space station, her wrists bound with flex-cuffs, her android guard at her side. She had been given cheap sandals and a shapeless gray robe for the walk. Numerous people strode through the corridors, but nobody did more than glance in her direction. Newly purchased slaves were not an unusual sight here. The android remained silent except for giving orders to turn left or right, as if she hadn’t already memorized the station and didn’t know which dock held Captain Teneris Wolf’s ship.
Her intent had been to be purchased by him all along; as odious as the idea of letting herself be captured by slavers had been, it had been the only plan she had come up with that would let her slip past his security and get close to him. She hoped she wouldn’t have to endure many of his sexual torments before finding her chance to kill him, but she did not doubt that she would find her chance. She had almost laughed at the auctioneer’s description of her background. She might have been born into a nice, quaint family—albeit Buddhist temples hadn’t been involved—but she was a pirate through and through now. She had served as her father’s chemist and poisons specialist for the last five years, mixing concoctions to get rid of more than a few enemies. One more enemy remained, the one who had been responsible for her father’s death.
She smiled tightly, hardly able to wait for her chance to give Wolf the payback he deserved. Thank the Buddha that other man hadn’t succeeded in outbidding the pirate captain. She had no idea who that had been or why he had been interested in her—knowing that Wolf had a fascination with beating down tough women, she had certainly done her best to be abrasive. She supposed it wasn’t hard to believe someone else there had similar tastes. The galaxy was full of perverts.
“Left,” the android said in his emotionless monotone.
Two more corridors, and they would reach the docks. Nerves danced in Ying’s stomach. She was doing her best to tell herself she would find a way to kill Wolf before he inflicted himself upon her, but she knew that would be unlikely. At first, he would be wary with her, and there would be few opportunities to harm him. But eventually, he would think he had bested her, that she had given up, and he would let his guard down. Maybe he would let her cook for him.
She smiled again at the thought. She was a good cook, it being one of the things her mother had shared with her before she had died. More than a few pirate enemies had fallen, not tasting the poison subtly hidden in a delectable dish. She wished she had managed to sneak some deadly powders along with her, but the slaves had been searched and X-rayed before being put up for sale. The guards had found her subcutaneous stash. She would simply have to make do once she arrived on the ship. It wouldn’t be the first time she had improvised.
Ying and the android turned into a corridor oddly empty of people. A soft clang came from a doorway ahead, and something bounced onto the cold white floor. Smoke billowed out of the metal ball.
“What the—”
The android pushed her back before she could finish the exclamation. Yanking twin laser pistols from its holsters, it ran forward into the smoke. The white haze filled the corridor, and Ying couldn’t see a thing, but the android fired indiscriminately, crimson beams lancing into the clouds.
Ying dropped back a few paces and pressed herself into the alcove of a doorway. A plaque on the wall read Mechanical Room, and she would have gone inside, to make sure she didn’t take a stray laser beam in the gut, but the door didn’t budge for her. All she could do was suck everything in and hope. If she had wanted to escape, she might have run back the way she had come, but she had spent the last three months learning everything she could about Wolf, his preferences, and his upcoming plans, then working her way into this situation, being exactly where she could be purchased, exactly when his habits said he would be searching for a new bed slave.
Someone returned fire, orange beams crossing with the android’s red beams in the white haze.
“Unbelievable,” she muttered.
What was this? Some kind of rescue? Or maybe someone was irritated with Captain Wolf and wanted to take out his most recent acquisition to annoy him. Ying grimaced at the thought—and at the orange beam that burned through the corridor, less than a foot from her eyes. If Fate wanted her dead, she might accept
that, but not before she avenged her father’s death, damn it.
She was focused on the fight ahead of her in the corridor and on not being scragged herself, so she was surprised when a hand latched onto her arm. She tried to jerk away, but was hefted from her feet before she could so much as squawk in surprise. She landed with an, “Oof,” athwart someone’s broad shoulder.
Her new captor sprinted a dozen paces down the corridor before she regained her wits. “Let go of me, you ass,” she growled, and twisted, trying to escape the man’s grip. It didn’t help that her wrists were still bound.
The arm holding her in place might as well have been a nu-steel beam for all that it gave.
“Help,” she hollered. “You, android. I’m being kidnapped.”
“Sssh,” her captor hissed, his grip tightening. It wasn’t painfully tight, but there was a warning in it. Stop squirming and yelling, it said. “I’m rescuing you from that pirate.” The man ran around a corner, not slowing as he spoke.
“I don’t want to be rescued,” Ying barked, unable to believe this madness. Who was this idiot who was ruining her plans? Ruining everything?
“You don’t deserve that animal,” the man snarled, his voice heated with passion.
“Oh, I suppose I deserve you instead?” Ying twisted, trying to escape again. “And if you wouldn’t mind, I’d appreciate having this conversation from the ground. Can’t you put me down?” And then she could jam a knee into his crotch and sprint back to find her guard. Would the android find it suspicious that she’d had an opportunity to escape but had run back to it? She hoped that its programming wasn’t that sophisticated. Maybe it wouldn’t understand that most people didn’t want to be Wolf’s slaves.
“Not yet.”
Her captor raced around another corner, his shoulder thumping into her stomach with every step, then darted into a maintenance tube. He skimmed down a ladder one-handed, never loosening his grip on her. Under other circumstances, she might have appreciated his athleticism, but at the moment, she was busy being irritated by it. Why couldn’t he slip and fall so she could escape?
She wished she could see who she was dealing with—a feat made difficult by the fact that her face was buried against his back—but she had an inkling. The voice sounded familiar, and who else would want to “rescue” her but the other man who had been bidding on her at the auction? Why did he want her? That was the question. Did she have some other enemy here on the station that she hadn’t accounted for? Her father had acquired a great many enemies, but few had known her face or even that she was his daughter. He had always done his best to protect her identity, both so he could send her in as an assassin and to ensure she wouldn’t be a target for revenge plots against him.
Thinking of him made a lump swell in her throat. She pushed down her emotions. This was not the time for reminiscing.
Her captor descended two more levels, toting her on his shoulder the whole way, and jumped over a “closed for maintenance” sign and into a poorly lit area with panels open in the walls, leaving conduits and wiring on display.
“All right.” The man finally stopped running and set her down, surprisingly gentle as he made sure she had her feet under her before letting go.
Ying gazed behind her, fearing that they had come too far, that too much time had passed. Even if she escaped now, the android would probably be gone. Captain Wolf would find it suspicious if she showed up at his airlock of her own accord.
It was too late; everything she had worked for these last three months was gone. Ruined. She made a choking noise, half frustration, half emotional agony.
“Don’t worry,” the man said. “My buddy said he could handle the android. It won’t find you again. You’re safe.”
“Safe?” Ying spun toward him, her frustration taking the upper hand. “I didn’t want to be safe, you idiot. I planned this all from the beginning. Getting captured, being brought here, getting onto Wolf’s sensor field, everything. For three months. You’ve ruined it all. And why? Because you’re a more deserving slave owner than him, you damned ugly bastard?” She was screaming, her words tumbling out of her mouth in an unedited jumble. If she let go of her anger, she might give in to tears of frustration, and she refused to do that. She jerked at her wrists, annoyed that they were still bound and annoyed by the whole situation.
“No, that’s not it,” the man said, blinking slowly, clearly surprised by her reaction. He was the person who had been bidding against Wolf in the auction. “I’m not—I mean, you’re free. I just wanted to help, to get you away from him.” He stepped back and raised his hands, letting her go, the position said.
Ying could only stare at him, almost speechless by the bleak stupidity of the situation. Aside from her father, nobody had ever tried to rescue her from anything in her life, and now, when she least wanted it, she had some knight on a white horse? Was he telling the truth? Who would risk his life when there was nothing to gain? Nobody did that outside of those legends from Old Earth.
He was handsome enough to be some storybook hero—her “ugly bastard” insult hadn’t been very thought out. He had a clean-cut face with a cleft chin and short, tousled brown hair, along with an earnest-to-please manner that didn’t quite match his tall, muscular frame—all it would take was a scowl to make him an intimidating man. But maybe his earnestness was an act. She couldn’t imagine that he was telling the truth. He must have some ulterior motive.
“Who are you?” Ying demanded, squinting at him, wondering if he might know who she was and be a part of some scheme against her.
“Marat Azarov.”
She fought the urge to roll her eyes; as if a name mattered. “No, who do you work for?”
Confusion crinkled his brow. “Mandrake Company.”
“That’s a mercenary outfit, isn’t it? Did someone hire you to get me?”
“What? No. I’d never seen you before, or heard of you before.” He waved in what might have been the direction of the slave auction; she was too disoriented now to be certain where she was in relation to the rest of the station. “I just wanted to help. That’s all.”
“Well, listen up, Marat Azarov of Mandrake Company. You just screwed up three months’ worth of planning.” Ying closed her eyes, trying not to let the frustration show on her face—in the moisture that wanted to gather in her eyes. She couldn’t imagine how she could get close to Wolf again, not when he would recognize her the next time he saw her. And she didn’t have the finances to cover another three months of planning and scheming.
“I don’t understand,” the man said. “You were...”
“I know what I was,” Ying snapped. “And it was exactly what Wolf was supposed to think I was, exactly what that bastard likes. It was my chance to avenge my father, to kill that animal. You—” She jabbed a finger at his nose, a motion made awkward by the flex-cuffs still binding her wrists together. “You ruined everything.”
Ying whirled, intending to stalk away, though she had no idea where to go or how to get rid of the damned cuffs without being captured by what passed for police on this station. They were all bought men, and they would probably throw her back up on the auction block. Or...
She paused, an idea sparking. Was it possible they would return Captain Wolf’s wayward merchandise? Maybe she could yet make this work. Ah, but she couldn’t be certain about the police. They might just as soon put her into holding, wait for Wolf to leave, then sell her again, cutting in on the slave trade profits. Or one might even try to keep her for himself, a little sport on the side.
Lost in her spinning thoughts, Ying turned a corner and crashed into a man’s chest before she realized he was there.
For a second, hope blossomed—maybe the android had gotten out of trouble and tracked her somehow. But no, it was another of the men from the auction, the one who had been standing next to Marat. Some mercenary chum, no doubt.
He caught her about the shoulders. She lifted her hands, intending to try to knock his arms away and kick h
im, but what was the point? She slumped instead, her chin dropping to her chest.
“Uh, Azarov,” the man asked, his voice deeper and gruffer than his buddy’s. “You lose something?”
“No.” Marat still sounded dazed.
Assuming this wasn’t all some scheme to trick her, he might truly have thought of himself as some hero, risking his life to save hers. Even so, Ying couldn’t feel anything but annoyed by him and his “help.”
“She’s free to go,” Marat added. “You get rid of that android?”
“Blew it to bits and shoved the bits into the garbage chute.” The big man grinned. Soot smeared his stubbled face, and he smelled of explosives. Still gripping Ying’s shoulders, he looked down at her. He wriggled his eyebrows, as if he expected some prize, and he rubbed her shoulders suggestively. “You the type to reward your rescuers?”
Her defeat fled out of her in the face of new rage. She balled her fists, determined to figure out a way to punch him, the cuffs be damned.
“Let her go, Striker,” Marat said, the icy snarl in his voice startling both of them. He might have been dazed before, but he had recovered, and he stomped toward them.
Her new captor released her and stepped back, lifting his hands. “All right, all right. But don’t forget I’m the ranking non-com around here. I’m supposed to give the orders.”
“We’re on shore leave. You want to order yourself up a room full of porn videos for you and your hand, that’s fine with me, but you’re not in charge of this... this...” Some of the anger faded from his face as he spread a hand toward Ying.
She had no doubt her expression was even bleaker than his. “Ying,” she said, not sure if he knew her name or if that was what he was asking. “And if I’m truly free—” she shot the bigger man a dirty look, wishing she had, indeed, kneed him in the groin, “—I’ll be going now.”
Marat started to nod, but he caught himself, and flung up a hand. “Wait.”
“What?” Ying asked, squinting at him.
Mandrake Company- The Complete Series Page 138