Rystani Warrior 02 - The Dare

by Susan Kearney

  “Idiots.” Rogar signaled for the soldiers to keep their weapons aimed at them.

  “We likely are on the same side,” Dora spoke slowly to Avanti. She didn’t want to tell the woman about the Perceptive Ones and how Zical had accidentally recalled the Sentinel. No doubt Rogar would see it as yet another reason for execution. “My people hate the Zin. Our mission is to stop them.”

  “You can’t stop the Zinatti.” Rogar stood, spoke over his shoulder as he exited the room. “You can only hide and hope they do not find you.”

  Avanti gestured for Zical and Dora to leave the room with her, but stopped in the doorway. “The trial will be in two days. While my defense will be vigorous, if I fail, your execution will follow immediately. Prepare yourselves.”

  Dora’s bones seemed to turn to sand, her muscles to water. How did one prepare for death? Her mind twisted and turned like a cornered jillyfish, but she saw no honorable way out. Dying before they completed their mission was unacceptable.

  “I would like to study your laws,” Zical requested.

  “It will do you no good, but I will have suitable materials made available to you. I suggest you use your last days preparing to meet your gods.”

  ZICAL’S GUILT FOR putting his crew in such a tight spot to fix his earlier mistake drove him hard. If the Kwadii court had its way, they would all die, their mission a failure. He could barely bring himself to think past losing the lives of his crew and the scientists, never mind considering that he may have opened a hyperspace trail for the Zin, and that without the Sentinel it could lead them to conquer the Federation worlds at home.

  The losses would be so devastating, the guilt so high, he had to tamp it down just to keep a clear thought in his head. Focusing on survival, not failure, kept him going.

  So he’d gathered his top people in the showers, hoping the splash of running water would hide the sound of this meeting from any listening devices. Dora, Cyn, Vax, Shannon, and Dr. Laduna stood in a close circle, and Zical kept his voice to a whisper.

  “My friends, the Federation is counting on us to complete our mission.”

  Dr. Laduna’s gills flapped, a measure of his distress. “Captain, is it true the Kwadii will execute us in less than two days?”

  His face grim, Zical nodded. He would not lie to the scientist. “While we live, we have hope. We have two days to formulate an escape plan.”

  He clapped his first officer on the shoulder. “Vax, find a way to disarm and take out the guards.”

  Vax met his gaze and dipped his head in agreement.

  “Cyn, adapt useful survival gear from the machinery in our quarters. Drinking vessels, weapons, communication devices that we can use after we escape.”

  “I’ll do my best, Captain.

  “Shannon, work with Dr. Laduna to find a way to send a message home. We need to inform the Federation about the Kwadii and warn them about the Zin.”

  The Jarn scientist’s scales paled. “What will you be doing?”

  Zical didn’t usually explain himself, but these were extraordinary circumstances. “Dora and I will go over the Kwadii laws and search for loopholes.”

  Zical had no idea if his people could complete the tasks he’d assigned. But working toward freedom was better than doing nothing but waiting to die. These people had given him their loyalty, trusted him with their lives. Until he drew his last breath, he would fight to stay alive, to return to his ship, and complete his mission.

  “We may not have another opportunity to gather.” He paused. “And once we go to trial, the security may tighten. So our best opportunity to escape may be now.” He leaned forward, his whisper intense. “But I expect each one of you to do your best to live. We shall not give up. We shall keep up the spirits of our friends and help one another through this difficult time. We’ve escaped tight spots before, and I have every confidence we can do so again.”

  Zical’s words brought fire back into their eyes, color into faces gone pale and hopeless. His people were the best. They also deserved the truth. “We are not giving up. Our mission is too important to do less than our best. I expect maximum effort and then some. Understood?”

  He’d never been so proud as his friends squared their shoulders, lifted their chins, and straightened their spines. Dora was no different from the others in that respect. Although she obviously missed and worried about Kirek, as did he, their first priority had to be escape, and Dora clearly understood.

  She’d come a long way in such a short time, supporting him and helping him as one of the team. He vowed that together, somehow, they would all find a way back to their ship and continue their mission. If they failed, they would have given their best.

  KIREK OPENED HIS eyes and wished he could go back to sleep and wake up in his own room with the scent of his mother’s cooking. His head hurt. His mouth was dry as a sand worm’s burrow, and he had no idea where he was. The last thing he remembered was leaving Dora, then falling in the skimmer. But from the look of this room, someone had moved him from there to a comfortable chamber.

  Furnished with a bed, chairs, and a wooden cabinet with drawers, the room reminded him of holopics he’d seen of homes before the Federation provided suits. On a table next to his bed stood a tempting glass of water. He tried to sit up but hadn’t the strength, and he groaned in despair.

  A woman entered the room. She had kind eyes, a wide bosom and hips, and a cheery voice. “There now. Let me help.” She lifted the glass to his mouth and placed a tubular object between his lips. He bit on the tube, but nothing came out. “Suck on the straw,” she instructed.

  Kirek sucked greedily and water burst into his mouth and he swallowed before he lost one precious drop. He’d never tasted anything so good, but the woman pulled away the glass too soon.

  “Easy now. Not too much at once. Let that settle and then you may have more.”

  Kirek looked around the room, puzzled. “Where am I?”

  “I am Serri Jerhar and this is my home. My husband found you half dead in the skimmer. He wanted to take you to the authorities, but I thought it better if you returned to the creche on your own accord.”

  Serri obviously thought he’d run away from a creche. Many beings believed that the raising of children should be left to experts. Apparently the Kwadii believed so.

  Kirek saw no reason to inform the woman of his true identity while he wondered what his next move should be.

  “Thank you. Please.” He pointed to the water. “More.”

  She obliged, then looked anxiously over her shoulder. “My husband is a good man, and he won’t return from his shift until late morning. Young man, by then you need to be on your way.”

  “Yes,” Kirek agreed, realizing he’d been fortunate not to have been recaptured. He couldn’t help wondering about Dora and the crew. Had they escaped? If so, they would have no idea how to find him. Kirek did his best to put the worry aside. He had more immediate concerns.

  Serri shoved a plate toward him. “Eat.”

  The food appeared strange, but Kirek didn’t hesitate. He ate everything she offered, drank more water, and began to feel more like his old self. His head still throbbed, but after a good night’s sleep and a hearty breakfast, he was ready to slip out the door when the kindly Serri placed a credit chip in his hand. “It’s all I could spare. Go with the Gods, child.”

  Once outdoors, Kirek saw that her pink rock home squatted in a cluster among others that looked much the same. Large leafy trees shaded a brick path, and Kirek arbitrarily picked a direction. With food in his stomach and his thirst quenched, his spirits were up. His immediate goal was to remain free and gather information on the Kwadii.

  With no destination in mind, Kirek left Serri’s home and tagged after a bunch of children. They played a complex game with a ball and bouncing squares, paying no attention to him until the ball rolled away from them and in his direction. He kicked it back.

  The kids were bigger than him, probably older. Their ragged clothes hung on
bodies so thin it appeared they didn’t eat regularly and their sandal straps were torn and retied in many places. He spied holes in the soles, too. Miri and Etru would never have let him dress with so little respect for his appearance. Did these children come from a creche? They looked as if they lived on the streets. Knowing better than to ask questions, Kirek trailed after them. He had no idea of their destination but figured that if anyone was searching for him, he could hide among the children, appearing part of their ragtag group.

  But he didn’t count on the kids’ curiosity. One of the older boys with long hair that clumped together like rows of corn cobs planted himself in Kirek’s path. “What ya doin’?”

  “Nothing.” Kirek looked at the ground and shuffled his feet, doing his best to appear non-threatening, but apparently he’d chosen the wrong behavior.

  “You a snoop?”

  “Me?” Kirek had always been different from other children. He’d never fit in, except with his parents and on the Verazen. Just thinking about Dora, the crew, and the scientists made him feel even lonelier.

  “You aren’t from the creche. Your clothes are too good to be a banzoo.”

  Kirek had no idea how this kid knew he wasn’t from the creche. Nor did he comprehend what a banzoo was. Although the kid was bigger and stronger, Kirek knew some dirty street fighting tricks. But the other kids had circled him, and he could neither beat them all, nor outrun them on his short legs.

  “Where you goin’, deezer?”

  Deezer must be an insult. The other kids laughed. Kirek kept his answers vague. “I’m looking for a good time.” He held up his credit chip, knowing the kid might take it from him. “I’m willing to share.”

  The kid eyed the chip. “You heading to the carnival?”

  “Yeah. Want to go?” Kirek offered, hoping to avoid a beating and at the same time use these kids as cover to avoid the authorities. In the back of his mind, he hoped to reunite with Dora and Zical, but couldn’t ask questions. These kids might turn him in for a reward.

  “Maybe I’ll filch that credit chip and leave you behind.”

  “That would be a mistake.” Although quaking inside, Kirek grinned, knowing bullies often backed down when challenged.

  “Why is that?”

  “’Cause I’m good with machines. You stick with me and you’ll win big.” Kirek assumed that a carnival had gaming machines. If he was wrong, he might just end up broke and alone.

  “What are we waiting for? Let’s go.” The boy clapped him on the back, almost knocking him down. “By the way, my name’s Lew.”

  AS PROMISED, AVANTI delivered a holochip with lengthy files of Kwadii law to the conference room a few hours later. Zical’s head ached from the combination of trying to push aside his guilt over the failing mission while he tried to focus on obscure statutes. He was no law specialist, and the convoluted sentences left little open to interpretation.

  Dora had remained with him, but she didn’t appear to be working too hard on deciphering the Kwadii laws. Instead, she had a dreamy expression in her eyes, one that he’d been trying to ignore all afternoon. But he had been as successful at repressing his guilt and disregarding her expression as he had in pretending not to look at her beautiful breasts. Irritated with himself, he closed the holofile.

  Vax hadn’t found a way to overcome the guards. They were too well armed and backed up by lethal mechanical lasers. Cyn had made a few water bottles, which would do them no good if they couldn’t escape. No one had found a way to send word of their plight back to the Federation.

  With so many seemingly unsolvable problems that appeared to lead to all their deaths and failure of his mission, he needed a break, a distraction. But no matter how many times he told himself that Dora wasn’t a solution, his mind refused to obey.

  With death facing them, his guilt and frustration mounted. How in the seven rings of Darnica was he supposed to concentrate with her sitting across from him half-naked?

  Yet, he could no longer bear to worry over Kirek, his crew, the scientists, Mystique, and the Federation. His body recognized that his mind was too burdened by stress to find a solution that would keep them alive long enough to continue their mission. He needed a break.

  Without his suit to suppress his natural urges, his groin ached from an excess of stimulation. When Dora caught his gaze, he would have bet a month’s pay that she knew exactly what was bothering him. But he didn’t want to say one word and give her the satisfaction of knowing how badly he wanted her when he should be thinking of a way to avoid death.

  “Yes?” One of her delectable eyebrows arched in speculation.

  “This is getting us nowhere.”

  “Then why don’t we do something more productive.” She licked her top lip with the tip of her tongue in a most provocative manner that made his mouth go dry.

  “I’m open to suggestions.”

  She stared him straight in the eye. “I would like to make love before I die.”

  “We may yet find a way off Kwadii,” he protested, yet in response to her suggestion, all his blood seemed to flow below his sarong.

  “You need a rest. You aren’t sleeping or eating. You owe it to yourself and everyone depending on you to relax, so you can attack the problem from a fresh angle.” She paused, wet her bottom lip, and continued, “If these are to be our last days, I would like to spend them pleasurably.”

  She had a point. He certainly wasn’t getting anywhere examining the legalities. He suspected Avanti was one sharp lawyer who would have enjoyed beating Rogar in court. If she hadn’t found a good defense for them, he probably wouldn’t either. Still, to make love when he should be planning an escape seemed … irresponsible. Wonderful. Just the thought of having Dora made his blood quicken.

  He could not think of one escape scheme that might succeed. He hadn’t come up with a new thought in hours. Shucking responsibility had never been easy for him, but a distraction might be just what he needed so he could return to the problem with fresh ideas.

  Despite all their efforts, they would likely be dead within a week.

  He let his gaze drop to her breasts, and her nipples tightened in response. Stars, she was eager, available, responsive. What more could he want?

  But she was a virgin, and some of his ardor cooled.

  “Are you sure?” He raised his gaze to hers.

  “Yes.” Standing, she began to unwrap her sarong.

  “I’ll do that.” He strode around the table, placed his hand on hers. “You can change your mind at any time.”

  “I won’t.”

  She sounded so sure, so sensual, that he yearned to encourage those banked embers in her eyes to blaze into a frenzied fire. But she’d also said that she’d wanted a body and then had hidden in her quarters for months. So he had doubts. As if sensing she could banish the last of his hesitation, Dora reached her arms around his neck, brought her mouth to his, searing him with her lips, her bare breasts pressing against his chest.

  His senses reeled and he took her mouth with a rough fury. She gasped. He was about to apologize, but then Dora tugged him closer, molding her mouth to his, pressing into him, giving as much as she took.

  Damn, the woman could kiss. She poured her desire into their fused mouths, stoking a need in him to have her naked, right there on the conference table. “A bed … would … be better.”

  “I want you here. Now.” Her hands dropped to his loin cloth, fumbled with the knots.

  As bold as she sounded, her hands trembled. He clasped his hands on her waist, lifted her to sit on the table. His hips spread her knees wide, and all the while he kissed her.

  Her fingers gave up on the knots, stroked up and down his back, rushing him, urging him to hurry, to make love to her as if she feared he would change his mind. But now that he was holding her, kissing her, the only thing that could make him leave would be if she sent him away.

  Remembering that this was her first time battled with his need to pour himself inside her. With her legs s
traddling him, her scent enticing him, he had difficulty holding back. Yet, he wanted their lovemaking to be her most spectacular experience in all her three hundred years of life.

  Perhaps a tall order. But Zical was up for it. Oh, yeah, he was up all right and burning hard.

  He pulled his mouth from hers. “We need to slow down.”

  “Why?” Part breathless, part demanding, part sultry petulance, her demeanor told him that she might have read every sex manual ever written, but knowledge and experience could be two very different things.

  “Dora, your body hasn’t made love before. The fit might take some getting used to.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “I not aiming for fine. I’m aiming for sensational.”

  Dora giggled. Brazenly, she reached beneath his loincloth to stroke him. “I’d say you’ve already reached the mark.”

  Placing his hand over hers, he pulled her back. “Not yet.” He set her hands on the table, then threaded his fingers through her hair. “I want you to remember every kiss, every caress.” Combing his fingers through her hair, he stroked her ear, palmed her jaw, and watched her pulse throb in her graceful neck. His voice turned husky. “Since we skipped the entire seduction process, let me make it up to you. Yes?”

  “Yes.”

  She tried to brush her breasts against him, but he leaned back just enough to keep them apart. Frustrated, fascinated, she leaned her head into his hand and released a sigh. “You smell good. I never knew the sense of smell could be so … enticing.”

  “For both of us,” he agreed.

  Trailing his fingers down her neck, tracing her collarbone, he held her gaze. Anticipation flared in her eyes as he ever-so-slowly dipped closer to her breasts.

  He’d intended to caress and stroke and fondle with his hands to excite her, but once her fullness filled his hands, he lifted her breast to his mouth and took the tip between his lips. Sucking gently, he heard her gasp.

  “Oh … oh. Ah … I didn’t know … I never imagined … that I could feel … so good.” She threw back her head, arched into his mouth. “More, please.”