Treyjon: Star Guardians, Book 2

by Ruby Lionsdrake

  “I got your pictures, yes. And I already found your spies.”

  “You did?”

  Treyjon felt his mood lift. Maybe he could get to the bottom of this quickly and return to the rec room to check on Angela. He felt bad that he’d left her to deal with Lulu, bad that she’d misunderstood him about that kiss, and horrible that he’d set her up to watch a man be killed at her feet. Why he hadn’t envisioned that scenario, he didn’t know. There had been definite clues all along that the female svenkar had bonded to her and would protect her, and even if that hadn’t been the situation, Lulu might have killed a man that ran at her, regardless.

  Treyjon had assumed that he would catch up to the spy before it became a problem. But the man had been alert, with a hearing enhancement bug in his ear, and had heard him coming. If Treyjon hadn’t been wearing his Star Guardian uniform, maybe the spy would have reacted differently, but the man had recognized him as a threat. Little had he known, the svenkar waiting around the corner was the true threat.

  He shook his head, frustrated anew with himself. Once Angela recovered from the shock of the event, she was sure to realize that it had all been his fault, and she wouldn’t look to him for support again. She might not want to talk to him at all.

  The thought made him want to kick himself. He’d only just realized how attracted to her he was, and now he was going to lose any chance at having a relationship with her.

  Not that she would want a relationship with him or any other Star Guardian once she learned that her people would be stuck here. Had she heard any of that conversation between Sagitta and the archons? Treyjon hadn’t caught all of it, but he’d caught enough. He had worried that taking the women home would turn into something complicated, but he hadn’t expected the archons to be worried about the Gaian planet turning into competition for their dominant role among humans in the galaxy.

  “It helps if you actually look at the data I gathered,” Hierax said.

  He’d moved across the room to a computer bank with a display floating in the air above it.

  “Oh, is that required?” Treyjon said, walking over. “I didn’t realize.”

  “I can’t believe you think I’m the weird one.”

  “I said your things were weird, not you.”

  “I am my things.” Hierax waved toward two faces hovering in the holographic display.

  Treyjon recognized them, the two spies. Names and addresses floated under their faces, and he leaned forward.

  “Marcus Alera and Brestin Lazanik? From… one from Kindarri and one from Kressin. Those planets are on the opposite side of the galaxy from each other. Any idea what their connection is?”

  “They are both sellers of tramik.”

  “Is that a drug?” Treyjon asked, the word vaguely familiar.

  “A popular body-building supplement. It’s not as good as GrowthGain, but it’s cheaper, so lots of people buy it and ignore the side effects. It’s made by Nebula Won, a pharmaceutical company with offices everywhere. They’re originally from a border moon, VR-6. They have a whole lineup of prescription drugs, but their supplements are the moneymakers. They’re distributed by self-made entrepreneurs in a multi-level marketing shtick.”

  “I… don’t know what to say.” Treyjon stared at the inscrutable faces, completely flummoxed.

  “How about, ‘Thank you for looking up these people for me, and your wine is on the way.’?”

  Treyjon snorted. “I can send you wine.”

  He remembered that he still had to find some sweets for Angela too. Maybe that would help her a tiny bit with forgetting the day’s trauma.

  “But with these people,” Treyjon continued, “I was expecting them to be career spies, to be honest. At the least, former soldiers or law enforcers. People with military experience.” He remembered how quick the dead one had been to react, and how the other one had raced off at lightning speed too. They hadn’t seemed like amateurs. “And to have a tie to—I’m not sure what, but some entity that would have an obvious reason for spying on the captain. What could a pharmaceutical company care about Sagitta or his meeting? How could they have even known what his meeting was about? Could outsiders know about the women we recovered? Maybe they got wind that the captain had been to Gaia, or at least to the Gaian solar system. Could they want to exploit Gaia? The people there? Could they want to send their operatives to sell their supplement to the billions of people on the planet?”

  “Damn, Treyjon.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve never heard you speak so much at once.” Hierax smirked at him. “I didn’t even know your brain could string that many thoughts in a row together.”

  “In other words, you thought I was stupid?”

  “Well, you’re just a svenkar trainer. It’s not like you’ve got an advanced degree.”

  “Are you sure your stick-like stature was the reason people were stuffing you into storage cabinets?” Treyjon looked around engineering and wondered if Hierax would still fit into a spacesuit locker.

  “Maybe not the only reason. Look, I’ve got some work to do to get the ship ready to go out again, in case we get an assignment right away, but I can run some search queries in the background while I do it, maybe find out more about the company and who’s in charge. Maybe they’ve been in the news for something lately. They’ve got offices on a lot of planets, so it could go well beyond Dethocoles.”

  Treyjon hated to delay, in case those strange spies had been planning more involving the captain than listening in on his conversations, but he nodded and said, “All right.”

  “Oh, and this one here.” Hierax pointed to the man who was dead now. “He does have a military record. Served as an infantry soldier for six years during the war and was honorably discharged.”

  Treyjon’s stomach flipped. He’d expected those spies to be criminals, or, at a minimum, to have connections to shady people. To think that one of his svenkars had killed a veteran disturbed him immensely. He vowed not to tell Angela, in case she believed she had some responsibility for the man’s death. She didn’t, but minds didn’t always work in logical ways.

  “And the other one?” Treyjon asked.

  That one was still alive and might continue to be a problem. He would report back to someone about what he’d heard and who had been responsible for his partner’s death.

  “Nothing notable in the public record.” Hierax shrugged. “Looks like he’s been with the company for a long time, though. Maybe he went through some special internal training that could explain why he was tough to catch.”

  Treyjon tried to remember if he’d voiced his thoughts that the spies had been well-trained because, if they hadn’t been, he would have caught them. He didn’t think he’d said that aloud. Maybe Hierax had simply come to the same assumption. He might think Treyjon was simple, but nobody on the ship could deny that he usually got his man.

  “All right,” Treyjon said again. “Keep looking, and I’ll bring you—”

  “A bottle of agiorgitiko. None of that white piss. And something to eat too. I’m tired of tiorka steaks. Bring some fassolatha from that vendor just outside the base. Not the robot. Robots can’t make decent soup. The old crazy woman that pretends she’s a prophet. Get me a whole pot of it, not just a bowl. With cheese on top.”

  Treyjon stared at him, wondering if he should be taking notes like a waiter. “You know all the vendors out there will send delivery drones with your food, right?”

  “The drones won’t go past the cargo hold. You have to meet them at the ramp.”

  “Are you saying that I personally need to fetch your wine and soup because you’re too lazy to walk forty meters out of engineering to the cargo hold?”

  “I’m not lazy. Do I look lazy?” Hierax jumped in the air, jerking his knees to his chest, then dropped and pumped out twenty pushups. He jumped back up and gestured around. “But this is my place.”

  “You’re right. You are just as weird as your things.”

  “Y
es. Now, fetch my wine, svenkar boy.” Hierax grinned, flipped down his lenses, and headed back to his project.

  8

  Angela paced from one side of the rec room to the other, alternating between thinking about the awful way that man had died and worrying about Treyjon. The last time she’d seen him, he’d told her to take Lulu into the ship, and he’d walked away between two green uniformed men who seemed to be the planet’s equivalent of police officers. Was he all right? Would the blame for the man’s death be placed on his shoulders? Would they lock him up? And if so, would Captain Sagitta be able to get him out?

  “You’re wearing a hole in the floor, Angela,” Indigo said from a treadmill where she ambled along slowly. Tala jogged far more vigorously on the one next to her. They’d both been throwing concerned looks in Angela’s direction while they did their exercises. Juanita had gone off with Orion into the city and wasn’t around. “Do you want to talk about it?” she added.

  “No.” Angela continued pacing.

  She thought about going back down to check on the svenkars. Before, all she had done was take Lulu to her kennel. But were the animals due to be fed again? Would Treyjon want her to handle that?

  “Did somebody bother you? Again?” Indigo frowned and looked toward the door.

  The young, green-haired Ensign Bystrom was back to standing guard there.

  “No.” Angela couldn’t remember what Indigo was referring to at first, but then she recalled Jarok and the horny Star Guardians from the day before. Or had that been two days ago now? So much had happened that she’d lost track. “It just wasn’t the adventure into a new city that I’d expected.”

  She forced a smile, though she was still worried, and it didn’t feel sincere.

  “At least someone invited you to go out,” Indigo said wistfully. “Tala showed us how to ask questions of the ship’s computer, and it’s shown us some pictures, but—”

  “He,” a dry voice said over a speaker.

  “What?” Indigo looked toward the ceiling.

  “The ship’s computer, also known as a fire falcon 8800-XR artificial intelligence, has a male personality. And a name. I am Eridanus, as I have informed you now on three occasions.”

  “Eridanus,” Indigo said, looking back to Angela, “has been showing us images of the planet we’re on, but it’s not quite the same as getting a tour.”

  Angela thought about pointing out that Indigo and all the other women would soon get a very extended tour of the planet if Sagitta wasn’t successful in changing the minds of those government people.

  But the door slid open, and she turned toward it instead.

  Treyjon walked in, his uniform and hands free of the blood stains he’d had earlier. He appeared fresh and clean and pressed now. Angela had also taken a shower, and run her dress through the clothing sanitizer at the same time. Three times. She hadn’t gotten blood on it, but it still seemed tainted. If she’d had other clothing to change into, she would have done so.

  “How are you doing?” Treyjon asked, going straight to her and meeting her eyes.

  That pleased her, especially when she remembered the way he’d previously addressed all the women in the room, with his gaze slipping over her without lingering. Now his attention was unmistakable, as was the concern in his eyes.

  “I’m relieved to see that you’re not in a police jail,” she said.

  “What? Oh. No, they’re not quick to arrest Star Guardians.” He winced. “They did question me for a few hours, but I should have come here right away when I got back. It didn’t occur to me that you’d be worried about me.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not used to anyone being worried about me, I guess. Except the svenkars. Though their main concern is usually whether they get fed or not.”

  “Any trouble going on over here?” Tala asked, coming up beside Angela.

  She frowned at Treyjon, then gave Angela a concerned look.

  Indigo came up behind her, along with Katie. Only Katie, in her brown leather jacket and ripped jeans, looked vaguely tough. Still, they all folded their arms over their chests and joined in with glowering at Treyjon.

  “No,” Angela said, spotting the surprised expression on Treyjon’s face.

  She could understand why the others might be worried after the incident with all the shirtless men trying to make moves on them, but this was Treyjon. He’d come down and put a stop to that. And he’d always been respectful to everyone.

  “You were gone a long time before,” Indigo said.

  “Some of us were worried that someone was coercing you,” Katie added.

  “I was the only one coercing anyone.” Angela smiled. “I talked Lieutenant Treyjon into taking me to find something like donuts or Oreos.” Alas, they hadn’t succeeded in accomplishing that mission.

  “Is that why you came back with blood on your cheek and the side of your hand?” Tala asked.

  Erg, had she somehow gotten blood on herself? The ship had a dearth of mirrors so she hadn’t seen herself before the shower. Or after it, either.

  “And no Oreos?” Indigo put in, sounding like she would be distressed if there had been Oreos and they hadn’t made it back to the rec room.

  “The city was more eventful than expected,” Angela said.

  Treyjon’s expression grew rueful, but he didn’t say anything. Maybe he felt that his words would be mistrusted.

  Angela clasped his hand. Even though he’d proven that he didn’t have any real interest in kissing her, she certainly felt that he was trustworthy.

  Another woman approached, and Angela grimaced. It was the one who’d been having sex against the wall with that lieutenant commander. And who’d also given Treyjon a long once-over as soon as the man had walked out the door. Angela’s mother had always warned her not to judge or label people, saying there were too many uncertainties in the world for that to make any kind of sense, but she had a hard time not calling the woman Slut in her mind.

  “Hello,” the woman said, not joining the group behind Angela but instead sidling up to Treyjon. “I’m Bethany. You’re Lieutenant Treyjon, aren’t you? The animal trainer?”

  “Yes.” Treyjon looked down at her, his expression hard to read.

  Angela wished he would shoo her away.

  “You’re not going to try to have sex with another one, are you?” Tala asked the woman, blunt as always.

  Angela blushed.

  The woman—Bethany—only smiled. “Why not? I do like to make fair comparisons.” She slid her arm around Treyjon’s waist. “Besides, the other one was ridiculously quick. As soon as you came in yesterday, he hurried to finish faster than an Olympic sprinter. He got his, but I was left high and dry.”

  “Not that dry,” Indigo muttered.

  “Sounds like Varro,” Treyjon said, letting go of Angela’s hand and drawing his back.

  She almost reached after it, alarmed that he might turn away and go off to some corner with Bethany. But he only used his hand to extricate himself from Bethany’s grip.

  “Even though I’m certain that I would compare well to our accountant,” he said, “I have pressing work to do. I just wanted to make sure Angela was all right.”

  He smiled at Angela and she smiled back.

  “Who?” Bethany asked blankly.

  “Me,” Angela said.

  Bethany gave her a long dismissive look, her gaze going from the braided hair to the homemade dress to the faded sandals. It lingered on the dress. Angela flushed again, annoyed with herself for noticing the look and allowing it to make her feel inferior. There was nothing wrong with making clothes. It was artsy and fun. Maybe she hadn’t appreciated it that much as a girl, when her parents, stalwart believers in self-sufficiency, had made clothes and toys for Angela and her sisters, but this was different. This was voluntary. Angela liked picking out her own fabric and patterns. She lifted her chin and glowered back at Bethany.

  A beep came from Treyjon’s wrist device.

>   “Yes?” Treyjon stepped back to answer it, or maybe to give the women room for a catfight if one broke out.

  Angela had no intention of letting that happen. After what she’d seen that day, to even think of squabbling over clothes or a man seemed ludicrous.

  “Got some information for you, Lieutenant,” a man spoke over the logostec.

  “Already? I wasn’t expecting anything so soon.”

  “Nobody ever does. That’s why I have a reputation for being amazing.”

  Treyjon snorted.

  “The computer is still running the search, but it occurred to me to see if Nebula Won has an office in town that you could visit. They don’t, but I did find out that they have a ship berthed at the space base here. They came in before us and are scheduled to pick up some cargo tonight—some of their supplements that were shipped in from a manufacturing plant on the continent—and then they’ll leave in the morning.”

  “Supplements?” Angela wondered.

  Treyjon didn’t look puzzled by anything the other man had said. “The crew of the ship might not know anything about the spies, but they also could be the ones who sent the spies out. It wouldn’t hurt to go take a look.”

  “You need any company?”

  “You’re offering to leave engineering?” Treyjon asked.

  “Nah, but I could tell Zakota to grab a stunner and go with you.”

  “He stomps around like a lava rhino in a cane field. No, thanks. I’ll be fine for a quick look. I’ll comm if I get into trouble.”

  “Make sure you have my soup and wine sent before you get into trouble. I was imagining those as dinner items, not breakfast ones.”

  “I’m flattered that you think I can resolve any trouble I get into by morning.”

  “The ship is only a half mile away. It shouldn’t take long for you to get into and out of trouble.”

  “Thanks,” Treyjon said. “I think.”

  “I’ll comm if the computer digs up any more interesting information on the company.”