A pulsation began in the center of her brow, spreading into her cheeks and jaw, vibrating down her arms, into her numb fingertips. The pressure in her ears was unbearable, an aching within her head. Her spirit was lifting, rising up beyond the whiteness upon her eyelids ...
She realized that she was coming out of her faint when she heard the masculine voices that seemed tangled and distant. Her hearing cleared and she succeeded in lifting her heavy eyelids. She winced when seeing the window.
The ship had cleared the atmosphere and now rode on the black, the light of the far-away stars bright and clear.
“Status, Glover.”
Sarra looked at the dark command chair in the center of the bridge, her eyes widening. Although she couldn’t see the man because of the seat’s tall back, she knew that he was the one with the green eyes who had so brutally yanked her out of the tunnel. His voice had been deep and rich then, but now had a strange crudity about it, like he possessed less intelligence than she first had thought. He sat amidst his three crewmen who each had a place around the oval room, strapped in at the control panels. The thin and scruffy face that she could see looked as pale as she felt, like he too had been overcome by the ascent.
“We’re clear, Commander!” the one named Glover informed. “The ship is back on semi-manual control.”
“The comm?”
“Yes, Commander,” another said, his voice gruff. “The communication channels are off. We can speak freely.”
“Good. Set course for the Vincula Sector, for the rendezvous with the others.”
“Victory!” Glover cried out. “The princess is ours!”
“No!” she choked.
Sarra knew that there was nowhere to run but her alarm pushed her past the point of logic. She hit the button on the side of her chair and the belts slid away from her, and she started to rise. The one beside her roughly forced her back down and she was again imprisoned. Violence was new to her, but she was discovering that she was quite good at it. He grunted when she struck him on the nose. His physical strength nearly doubled her own, but the onslaught of her outrage gave him quite a challenge. She tangled her hand in his short dark hair and tugged mercilessly while she groped for the panel with her other. He cursed, trying to twist away. The want of revenge flamed within her, for never before had she experienced such a lack of respect or been touched the way these savages touched her. She would fight to the end!
“We’re being followed, Commander!” the gruff one cried.
“What!”
Sarra froze.
“Yes! The FAS are approaching range ... two ... three ... uh oh—five ... ”
Her dark-blue eyes lit up. The Royal FAS, Adriel’s Fighter Angel Starships, were in hot pursuit!
“Damn! We’ll outrun them. Stay hard on course.”
“On the set course, Commander?” he asked nervously.
“Yes! Full speed!”
“No—we can’t!” Glover protested. “No one has ever escaped the FAS!”
“Full speed!”
“Commander, don’t be a fool!” the other helmsman whined. “We must return to Adriel! It’s over!”
“Watch your tongue! I command here!”
Shouts rang out as the urgent crew made to outrun their pursuers, the best military fleet in the solar system. Alert, Sarra learned that seven FAS were bent on rescuing her. But, being that she was already in their clutches, how could they get at her to save her?
She was certain that the skilled pilots would find a way somehow, yet she couldn’t help feeling that something was very wrong. Why hadn’t the sentry spacecrafts at the palace been on this ship’s tail the moment it had cleared atmosphere? They should be here, normally to escort her, but now to rescue her. This ship was sleek and fast and had gained a wide lead over the pursing FAS, the ones that always patrolled the planet. What if it could outrun the FAS and make it out of lidar range?
Lidar, a device for locating an object in space by sensing ultraviolet light waves from the object, was the means used to track ships within the Adriel Sector. An intricate satellite system was devised so that when a vehicle left one sphere of space it would enter yet another. The signals were transmitted to viewer screens, called ‘lidarscopes’, on the planet where security watched, keeping the stellar thoroughfare under surveillance. But, if this vessel made it out of range, it would be very difficult to find out in unmonitored space. If they did manage to slip away ...
“You fool!” the commander suddenly cried, chastising a helmsman. “That’s not speed control—you’re upsetting the engines!”
“But ... but ... ” the admonished one stammered. “I thought that—”
“Go to auto,” the commander snapped, and added, “I’m surrounded by idiots!”
Sarra calmed down by listening. If it weren’t so frightful it would be comical. She’d never seen such a menagerie! Clearly, they had no solid plan. She wondered—from their vulgarities and stupid remarks—how these barbarians had had the mentality to get this craft up into the air!
She knew her way around the helm better than them! She practically lived in the palace Science Planetarium, studying star charts and learning about what pilots need to know, easing her passion for celestial exploration. Until now, she hadn’t realized just how much power her knowledge gave her. She knew which controls to activate to slow down the ship. But how could she get at the helm? There were five of them and only one of her!
Sarra wasn’t sure what made her glance at the comm panel; a blue light blinked on it in a silent rhythm. She quickly looked away, lest one of the men see her discovery. In all the confusion, no one seemed to notice that the comm was on. Adriel could hear their conversation! But, for how long had they heard?
The commander had spoken about a rendezvous in Vincula, one of many sectors in the solar system. She must tell the FAS. If her abductors did manage to escape, the fleet could go there and intercept them.
She warded off her pressing fear and leaned back in her seat. “They’ll get you,” she mocked. “And, ahhhh, the Vincula Sector is so nice. I did so wish to visit and meet your friends,” she quipped, satisfied that she sounded sarcastic enough.
“Is that Her Royal Highness I hear?”
Sarra wondered if that truly was quiet amusement, cleverness in the leader’s voice.
“Yes!” the one beside her gritted out irritably.
“Ummmm. One more sound from her, and you do have the permission to hurt her.”
“What!” she gasped.
The one she had sorely vexed smiled maliciously as he drew his gun. She fell back limply. She knew the power of the M-5—a military laser weapon that was illegal for civilians to own—and that it could kill.
The commander cursed vehemently. “Glover! Why are we slowing down?”
Sarra sat up straight. She looked out the port. But, the ship didn’t appear to be slowing down ...
“Something’s wrong!” the frustrated helmsman cried. “The controls aren’t responding!”
“We’re losing pulsion!” another moaned.
“Dammit! Try auxiliary!”
“I did that! Nothing!”
As their captain ordered a ploy of other desperate measures, Sarra reveled in her triumph. They had lost control of the helm! Vindictively, she wished that she could see the green eyes now.
“Our power is failing! We’re doomed!”
“But wait!” said Glover. “Our weaponry is still intact. The squadron won’t fire with the princess on board!”
“You’re right!” their leader agreed. “You—man the artillery. You—take tactics.”
Their new, spontaneous plan struck her with alarm. She hadn’t thought of that. The FAS couldn’t fire with her on board. They would be lured into destruction! “No!” she cried. “You can’t do that, you—”
She saw the shiny glint of the M-5 coming directly into her vision. She swallowed rapidly and became smaller in her chair.
“Death to the king’s men!” their l
eader roared. “We’ll make them all regret their births!”
Her heart pounded dangerously within her, thudding in her ears. Silence fell, and lengthened ...
“Hastings?” the commander asked, quietly.
“Affirmative,” Hastings, the gruff one, replied. “The comm is off.”
“And the kings met the kings.”
Sarra wondered if that could be wisdom so subtle in the commander’s voice. Bewildered, she considered the sudden lack of urgency, the quiet ...
“We’re out of lidar range.”
“Bear off. Shift astern—”
Their voices sounded different—confident. The captain snapped off level commands and his crew obeyed them with skilled precision.
“Now!” he commanded. “Release the buoy!”
Sarra gasped as the furious turbulence rocked her to and fro, fearing the coming explosion, her death ...
The ship stabilized, accelerating as it darted into flight.
“It’s done, Nicks! And the new signature code is in place.”
Quietly, he said, “Keep the slate clean and wait to deploy it until out of FAS sensor range. Set destination course, and bring us to a steady speed.”
Sarra shook her head in disbelief. “No!” she breathed.
After a moment, Glover said, “All is well. The needle is lost in the haystack.”
Their hearty laughter invaded her ears as they congratulated each other on their theatrical talents. Their true demeanors were much more refined—and wiser.
Sarra nodded wryly while she unbuckled the belts—it didn’t matter now. There was no escape. She had believed that her abductors had no solid plan but they had, and had executed it to perfection. “You tricked them!” she accused, her anger overriding her fear.
The man beside her stood, his amusement clear in his glowing brown eyes. “Of course we did! Did you imagine that we had the time to take you and disable the entire FAS fleet?”
Her eyes narrowed. “You knew that you’d be followed. You left the comm open from the start and made them think that the power was lost.”
He shrugged. “How else? The altered buoy will keep the FAS busy for a while.”
Sarra narrowed her eyes on him more so ...
The Revolutionaries weren’t known for their intelligence, and they had used their reputation to their advantage. They had outwitted Adriel’s elite. The FAS were based at Silhouette, Adriel’s moon and military base, but they had sentries at the palace, those of which these men had sabotaged. The FAS that had pursued them were those that always patrolled the planet, and having a wide lead over them, her abductors had made it out of lidar range ...
When out in deep space, they had jettisoned a satellite buoy, one that guides ships into space stations. They had modified the robotic buoy to project an illusion of this ship and, no doubt, had made it send out arrays of random and destructive laser bolts. When the FAS sensors centered on what they would presume was the disabled ship adrift in space, they couldn’t approach it, being that its weaponry was still intact. The pilots would be helpless, for they couldn’t fire, believing that she was on board. Before they could even realize this great insult to their pride, the decoy had given her abductors the time needed to escape.
“I’m not worried,” she lied smoothly. “You can’t get far. This ship’s signature code will be like a beacon.”
He considered her patronizingly, as if wondering how a pampered princess would know about signature codes. “Will it, now?” he taunted. “You believe that the USFC will rescue you? No—we are using the code from a ship identical to this one—our fellow comrades on that one are now out in interstellar space. We can go where we please.”
She swallowed hard. They had even taken care of the United Star Flight Control of the tri-planets Adriel, Myrrh, and Kan. In USFC’s regulations, every spaceship is required to have a registered signature code. One that does not electronically emit its identity when monitored by lidar would be viewed as a threat—a possible enemy. It would take an unlawful genius to successfully alter preset codes, but these men had done it. When they had jettisoned the buoy, to the FAS sensors it would seem that another ship had passed by the royal ship. When out of the FAS sensor range, they deployed the new signature code. By the time the FAS realized what had actually happened, this ship would be long gone.
Her abductor smiled. “No one will look at us twice, Princess. When they understand what we’ve done with the buoy, they’ll be searching for the royal signature code. Not bad for fools, huh?”
No, she wasn’t up against the weak of mind.
“You gave quite a performance, yourself,” he mocked.
She winced. She had helped them in her attempt to help the FAS, saying that they had a rendezvous planned in the Vincula Sector. When the military learned about the trick with the decoy, they would concentrate on Vincula. Obviously, this ship traveled another direction entirely. Worse yet, the crew was preparing it for a lengthy flight.
The full weight of the reality of her situation hit her when the men on the bridge began to come near, all but the commander who remained in his chair. She shrank away from their ominous, black-garbed appearances and their bold—and increasingly leering—eyes.
Such insolence to the princess royal could bring their execution, back on Adriel—but she was not on Adriel.
Desperately, she tried to keep her fear out of her voice. “Where are you taking me? Why? What do you hope to gain?”
They laughed like she had just told them an outrageously humorous joke.
“Hey, Nicks!” Glover called. “Her Royal Highness is addressing us!”
The man rose quietly and came into view. As his startling green eyes met hers, she paled and her breath was lost.
Chapter 4
Sarra felt like a lightning bolt had struck her. The commander’s eyes raked over her boldly, making her recall that she wore only a dressing robe and was bare beneath it. She glanced down to see the tips of her full breasts straining vulgarly against the ivory satin. She shakily held the bodice together in the hope of shielding the sight, and bravely lifted her gaze.
She was stunned. This man was handsome. Perhaps in his early thirties, his green eyes were bright as a summer meadow but made her shiver from their coldness. His face was perfect, like a heavenly artist had sculptured him, one intending to provoke awe. His shoulder-length blond hair, tied back at the nape, had been touched by the sun, as had his lean and manly frame, a build that projected a sensual magnetism. The black uniform hugged him as if exalted to hold such ruggedness. She feared that there was nothing common about him—he was tall and confident, seemingly gifted with great intelligence. But it was his stare that took the color from her cheeks and made her heart pound within her. The hypnotic eyes probed hers, having the power to see clear into her soul.
“Raine Nicks, at your service,” he mocked. “Comfortable, Your Royal Highness?”
She absently guessed that this must be his alias, for it would be strange for one so ominous to have such a pleasant name.
“She must be in shock,” she heard a man say.
When the green gaze slid away, she was free to notice how his crew whispered amongst themselves, discussing her attributes. She crossed her arms over her breasts and tried to look dignified.
Nicks scoffed, “Such a queenly air—feel the ice.”
Sarra bolted up. “Queenly! What have you done to my father?”
“Relax, Princess. He lives. Sit.”
She obeyed, fearing her balance.
“We haven’t done anything to him,” he said, his voice expressionless. “We need him to make the arrangements, to fulfill our ransom demands. Why do you suppose we took you and not him?”
“But he is in poor health!” she cried, clenching her fists. “You put him in danger!”
“The king is not in danger, Your Royal Highness. You are.”
Sarra’s eyes widened. She caught his subtle sarcasm as he stated her title, knowing that his breed had
no respect for royalty—or for anything. She had longed to battle this barbarian, the Revolutionary leader, before, but now in his presence she could do nothing but cower.
“Don’t look so frightened,” he taunted, amused. “You would be of little use to us dead. You won’t be harmed. If you behave.”
She met his insolent eyes. “You won’t get away with this. They will find me,” she said, though with more confidence than she could feel.
Arrogantly, Nicks shook his head. “No, they won’t. Your father really should have concentrated more on the repercussions of his actions, on the threat of war. You never know who our allies are, getting us through the palace’s tightest security—plotting to disrupt your pretty little world. We are the Revolutionaries. We are one. And we’re everywhere,” he stated, shrugging casually.
“You are all ignorant—you’re savages!”
“Not savages, and not so ignorant, either. What better way for us to call attention to our plight than by kidnapping the princess royal on her wedding day?”
“Yes!” Hastings exclaimed. “All of Adriel must listen now!”
Sarra felt the tears springing into her eyes. “What?” she cried out, in her frustration. “What is it that you want? Riches? Honor? The only gain you will get from this is your executions! The world will rejoice on that day!”
They all chuckled, enjoying her display of temper, and Nicks tilted his head to one side and eyed her calculatingly. “Men?” he asked. “Is she misbehaving?”
When they nodded eagerly, Sarra became smaller in her chair, very aware that she was not in civilized company.
“Ahhh, but I would hate to have bruises mar such beauty,” the commander quipped. “This is a time for victory. Glover! Bring us a round of celebration.”
Glover went off and soon returned with the spirit, which was Kalcoonian blue liquor called ‘tamfonite’. Nicks took up the decanter and poured out a glass, and he pleasantly asked, “Perhaps the princess would care to join us? After all, we did save you from marrying a smut.”
Although escaping wedlock was a bright spot in all this—and yes, she privately agreed that Taylor Gray was a smut—she only glared. He grinned sardonically and then his lips pursed, his loathing for her clear in his eyes. Caught in a stare down, the hair at the back of her nape began bristling, reminding her of her mortality ...
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