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Hero

Page 17

by Cheryl Brooks


  "Wasn't then, either," Hartak said. "The traitor, Jataka, slipped in a puddle of semen and broke his neck." Nodding toward Dragus, he added, "His was the only medal in Darconian history to ever be awarded to a guard for jacking off at his post."

  Micayla stared after Dragus's departing figure with a newfound respect. "That must have been quite a puddle."

  "Oh, yeah," Hartak said eagerly. "You want to see an example?"

  "Maybe later," Micayla said with a casual wave. "I, um, need to go talk to Jack about something. Which way to Kyra's quarters?"

  "That way," he replied, fortunately pointing in the direction opposite to the one Dragus had taken. "Take two right turns and a left and you're there." He must have thought she'd get lost, for he added, "Want me to escort you?"

  "I don't think so," she said quickly. "I'm sure I can find it on my own--as long as I don't run into Rodan."

  "Oh, don't worry about him," Hartak said. "He's with one of the queen's ladies."

  Micayla could only assume that the queen's "ladies" were all Darconian. The mental image alone was more than she could take. "You really didn't need to say that!"

  Hartak chuckled softly--for a Darconian, that is. To Micayla, it sounded more like an earthquake. "I don't think he'll be bothering you again."

  "I hope not," she said fervently. "Honest to God, if he shakes his dick at me one more time, I'm gonna bite it off!"

  Hartak's shout of laughter was still echoing down the corridor as Micayla reached the first turn. "I really mean it," she muttered. Then she remembered having wanted to suck Trag's and her thoughts took a decided turn for the better as she wondered what it would taste like.

  Trag was still in his room. All she had to do was turn around and go back. She had an idea that her current state of mind would have his cock up and running in no time at all. Then she would know...

  "Nah, maybe later," she promised herself. "I'll just let him stew for a while."

  A little time alone for some private reflection was what she needed herself. Trag had lost control? That still amazed her. He'd been with all sorts of women, some of them undoubtedly more alluring than she was. And all I did was bite him. How weird!

  She could feel her saliva beginning to flow at the mere thought of sinking her fangs into him again. No, I need to control that, she thought. He might have lost control--and I'm sure I did myself--but there's no reason why we need to do it constantly--is there?

  She hadn't been lying when she said she hadn't felt like it either. It was so odd! One minute she wanted nothing more than to keep right on going, as Hartak had put it, for hours, and the next, it was the furthest thing from her mind. It was like flipping off a switch. She hadn't felt like it when she left his room, but that seemed to change now that he wasn't with her. Perhaps the old saying about absence making the heart grow fonder was true after all...

  ***

  Micayla returned to the sitting room to find that the men and children had returned and Veluka was now being exhorted by all of the others--with the exception of Rodan, who was presumably still with his Darconian friend--to at least fly by Nerik to see what was going on, or to drop off someone else. He might have been scared into a humming fit before, but he didn't seem frightened any longer, just irritated and angry to the point that his scales were as flat and shiny as patent leather. Micayla stepped inside the doorway and leaned back against the jamb.

  "I will not go near my world again until I know he has left it," Veluka was saying. "You can't make me. I saved your skins back there, so you owe me one, Jack. Not the other way around!"

  "Technically, Leroy owes you one," Jack pointed out. "It was his ship."

  "A minor point," Veluka said. "I will not do it!"

  Jack eyed him shrewdly. "Okay, name your price."

  "There is no price worth my life," Veluka insisted.

  "Veluka," Micayla spoke up from her post by the door. "Where are you planning to hide? He's managed to exterminate nearly all of my people. If he's got a grudge against you, your best bet is to get to him first."

  "It's a very big galaxy," Veluka said firmly.

  "Yes, but do you want to watch your back forever?"

  "I do that now," he said with an awkward nod. "Always have."

  "'Dead meat in a can?'" she quoted.

  Veluka's pupils dilated briefly--clearly displaying his reaction--whether he would admit to it or not. "That was a momentary lapse on my part," he said, squaring up his shoulders. "I am over it now. I will let you people capture--or kill--Grekkor, and then I will be safe."

  Micayla couldn't argue with his logic but knew that the quote had gotten through to him anyway. She tried a different tactic. "What about letting Trag fly your ship?"

  Veluka peered sideways at Jack. "That is my price," he said. "I stay here, you take my ship, and you will pay me for it if it is destroyed."

  "And just what would you like as collateral in case we're all killed?" Jack shot back.

  Micayla's gaze flicked to Jack. She'd obviously dealt with Veluka before and knew there had to be more to the deal.

  "I will take--" Veluka paused and gazed around the room, his eyes turning completely white, "her," he said, pointing a shiny black finger at Windura.

  Chapter 16

  "Me?" Windura exclaimed. "I'm not worth the price of a ship! No way!"

  "Are you not?" Veluka inquired, tipping his head to one side. "I disagree."

  Lerotan stirred in his chair. He didn't get up, but Micayla hadn't missed the lashing of his tail, nor the pounding pulse beneath his tattoo. So, Windura did mean something to him...

  "If it is truly Lerotan who owes me," Veluka went on, "then he should be the one to pay."

  Windura looked confused, but Lerotan's expression was ominous. "But if Trag is going to be the one to fly your ship," he said in a voice so deadly calm that Veluka should have started humming again, "why should I be the one to, as you put it, pay?"

  "Having you and your weaponry at his back should ensure his success. And I believe that this," Veluka said with another gesture toward Windura, "would motivate you." Turning to Jack, he added, "Or perhaps you would prefer that I take one of your sons instead?"

  "No!" Windura shouted even before Jack could reply. "He'll turn him in for the bounty. Don't do it!"

  "I won't," said Jack. "But know this, Veluka. Just the suggestion of that is enough to make me want to blow your scaly, white-eyed head off right now."

  "Uh, Mom," Larry piped up from his corner. "Hold on a minute."

  "You're not volunteering, are you?" Jack asked incredulously.

  "No, but I see his point," said Larry. "I mean, it's his ship, and if something happens to it, what will he do?"

  "Get a job," Jack said scathingly. "I'm sure he could find work here in the palace."

  "Veluka, like it or not, you do have a stake in this," Tisana said, cutting off any of Jack's subsequent remarks. "What if we were to let it slip that you were the one who destroyed that ship? Chances are that Grekkor doesn't know it was you--yet."

  Veluka's pupils widened as he began to tremble. "You wouldn't do that, would you?"

  Tisana's shrug was nonchalant, almost to the point of insolence. "Hey, I'm a witch. I've been accused of a lot worse. Grekkor doesn't know me. I could walk right up to him and tell him all about it."

  "She's right," Leo said. "Even we didn't know it was you until you told us."

  "Ooo! I think we're on to something here," Jack said, her eyes dancing with excitement. "He doesn't know me either. And we aren't Zetithians. We could lure him out that way--tell him we've captured a whole bunch of Zetithians for the bounty but don't like dealing with Nedwuts."

  "Jack, there's just one problem with that," Tisana pointed out. "It isn't widely known that Grekkor is responsible for what happened to Zetith, nor is it likely that he would ever admit to it--unless you were a Nedwut."

  "Oh, God," Jack said, closing her eyes. "That means we'd have to deal with Nedwuts. Not going to do that, don't trus
t them, won't trust them--ever."

  "Sort of makes you wonder how the hairy beasts have managed to keep Grekkor's secret for so long, doesn't it?" Lerotan snickered.

  "It's a miracle," Jack agreed.

  "So what do we do?" Micayla said. "Just walk up to him and accuse him in a public place? Windura and I are the only ones who heard him say it. No one would believe us and he's already got us suspected of killing that Norludian. We'd be thrown in jail so fast--"

  "Are we going to capture him or just kill him?" Hidar asked.

  "If we kill him, we'd be no better than he is," Jack pointed out.

  "Hmph! Tell that to all the Nedwuts you've killed," Tisana chuckled.

  "It'd be different if they weren't always gunning for my husband," Jack said hotly. "They've tried to kill just about all of the guys at some point or other. I say we blast him."

  Hidar rustled his wings and waved his antennae excitedly. "Yes, yes! We should blast him!"

  "Wait," said Larry. "I have an idea. What if we could get someone else to go after him for some other reason?"

  "How?" asked Jack.

  "Tell some Nedwuts he's been cheating them?"

  "I don't know if that would work or not," Jack said doubtfully. "They probably think that already, but confronting him in a public place would certainly aim suspicion at him. And then Windura and Micayla could accuse him."

  "This is going to be much more difficult than we thought," Cat observed. "Especially getting him to confess."

  "Yeah, like an episode of Mission: Impossible," said Larry.

  Micayla's wasn't the only questioning look aimed at the child, but his mother waved it off.

  "Never mind," said Jack. "It's really old. But he's right about one thing: they used to get people to confess to all kinds of things on that show. They'd rig up some scenario that would get the bad guy to talk and they'd get it on tape and that would be the end of it."

  "We should just find him and kill him," Hidar said, clicking his mandibles with enthusiasm. "It would be much easier."

  "You know, Hidar, for a medic, you're awfully bloodthirsty," Micayla commented. "Look, I know he won't admit to it, but Grekkor is supposed to be a drug dealer, isn't he? Someone could pretend their kid died as a result of the stuff he's been selling--"

  "No, wait! I've got it!" Windura shouted, jumping up from the sofa. "Not everything Grekkor does is illegal. I'd almost forgotten that the main thing that keeps him in everyone's good graces is that one of his companies manufactures the vaccine for the Scorillian plague!"

  "And we have a Scorillian among us," Jack mused, tapping her chin. "It would take some serious planning--and we'd all have to play our parts perfectly--but, you know... this could work."

  "Great," Micayla muttered. "Now all we have to do is find him."

  "Sounds like a job for you and me, Mick," Trag said from the doorway beside her. "You can make the necessary calls and I can fly the ship."

  Micayla's heart took a nosedive as she turned to meet his gaze. He'd obviously been standing there long enough to have heard at least part of the discussion involving Veluka's ship, but he hadn't made a sound. There was a smile on his lips, but the challenge in his eyes was clear--his fabulously sexy green eyes...

  "And you know what he looks like," Trag went on. "So you'd be able to spot him."

  "I'm sure there are photographs of him somewhere," Micayla said. She tried to avoid looking into his eyes but couldn't do it. "Lerotan has seen him too."

  "Nothing like the real thing, though, is there?" Trag countered. "And we don't want to risk any more lives than necessary just to find him. It could be dangerous." Something in the way his eyes glowed suggested that the greatest danger wouldn't be from any of Grekkor's henchmen but from Trag himself--alone together on a ship flying through space...

  "I just thought of something," Lerotan said, frowning. "If Trag flies Veluka's ship, who's going to fly mine?"

  "I hadn't thought of that," Jack mumbled. "We're a little short on pilots these days. Veluka, you're sure you wouldn't--"

  "You're forgetting me," said Curly. "I can fly it."

  "See, Mom," Larry giggled. "I told you we could help!"

  "You're kidding me, right?" said Lerotan. Aiming a skeptical eye at Curly, he added, "How old are you?"

  "Seven," Curly replied. "But I can do it. I fly Mom's ship all the time."

  Lerotan was shaking his head, but Jack nodded in agreement. "He's not kidding, Leroy. He really can fly."

  "I'm not worried about the flying," Lerotan said, "It's his ability to land that concerns me."

  "Well, he might have a little trouble with your bucket of bolts, Leroy," said Jack. "But he can land mine slicker than snot!"

  "And I can navigate," said Moe. "Where is it we're going?"

  "Great Mother of the--" Lerotan muttered.

  "Oh, and you might want to take Althea with you too, Leroy," Tisana said, indicating her daughter. "Having one witch on each ship would be best."

  "I'm almost afraid to ask what she does," Lerotan said, eyeing the green-eyed little beauty with a grim smile. "She doesn't shoot fireballs, does she?"

  "Oh, no," said Tisana proudly. "Her talents are much more refined than that."

  "What about us?" Aidan and Alrik piped up.

  "Their specialty is diversionary tactics," Leo said with a nod toward his sons. "Just put them in a crowd and stand back!"

  "Look, my ship is not a daycare center," Lerotan argued, his tail beginning to tap audibly. "I can't have it manned by children."

  "Not scared, are you, Leroy?" Windura chided him. "I thought you never got upset about anything."

  "Well, usually not, but--"

  "How about if I go with you and look after the kids?"

  Lerotan seemed momentarily relieved, then added, "I thought you were collateral for Veluka's ship."

  Veluka shook his head sadly. "I fear your need is now greater than mine, Lerotan. Take her, and I will keep some of your weapons instead." His scales fluttered as he attempted to smile. "That way I will be able to arm my ship when you return."

  "What's left of it, anyway," Trag said. "You know, I'm not that good at landing myself..."

  "Oh, be quiet, Trag," Tisana admonished. "You'll start him humming again!"

  But Veluka was already beginning to vibrate. Within seconds he was in a full-fledged hum.

  "Does it ever stop on its own?" Tisana inquired.

  "Eventually," said Trag. "But it takes a while."

  "Funny, he always seemed so unflappable before," Jack observed. "Wonder what's gotten into him?"

  "I guess everyone has their limits," Lerotan said with an eye toward Windura.

  "Dinner should be waiting for us in the dining room by now," Kyra said after consulting the timestones that ringed a nearby window.

  "Let's just leave him here then," said Jack, motioning for the others to follow. "C'mon, gang. We've got an impossible mission to plan."

  ***

  Rutger Grekkor was just sitting down to dinner aboard the Valorcry when Worell approached. He had news, and none of it was good. "Sir," Worell began, "did you ever hear of a woman by the name of Jacinth Tshevnoe?"

  "You mean the one who blasts every Nedwut she sees?" Grekkor replied with a short bark of laughter as he flipped out his napkin. "Yes, I've heard of her."

  "You asked me to find friends and contacts of Lerotan Kanotay and the Nerik, Veluka. She is one of them."

  If anything, Grekkor appeared bored. He dismissed the minion who was pouring his wine with a casual wave. "Do you really think we can't handle her?"

  "Possibly, but you do know about her husband?"

  "Ah, yes, Cat! The Zetithian who told everyone that the Nedwuts destroyed Zetith--or so I've heard." He paused to inhale the bouquet of the wine before taking a delicate sip. "Your point?"

  "Sir, they were able to spread the word about that, and everyone believed him."

  The meaning was finally sinking in, wiping the smug smile from Grekkor's
aristocratic face. "And those two women are on Kanotay's ship..."

  Worell nodded. "Rumor has it that his pilot is Zetithian as well--the brother of the rock star, Tycharian."

  Grekkor exhaled with an expression so dire Worell was amazed there were no flames.

  "I fear they will spread the word, sir."

  "But without proof..."

  "They had no direct evidence against the Nedwuts, sir, but that doesn't alter the fact--"

  "Who wouldn't believe that of the Nedwuts?" Grekkor scoffed. "They were the perfect scapegoats."

  Worell kept his face as impassive as ever but thought privately that many would believe it of Grekkor as well. "Tycharian has many fans. If he were to accuse you publicly..."

  "He wouldn't dare!" Grekkor slammed down his wineglass, splashing the pristine tablecloth with a crimson stain.

  "Pardon me, sir, but I believe he would--particularly in light of the assassination attempt against him."

  "Drugged-out fanatics don't frighten me."

  Worell considered this foolish. "Sir, they were unarmed, and yet they tore the Nedwut assassins to pieces. I would not underestimate their strength."

  Worell could almost see the wheels turning inside Grekkor's head. It was a few moments before he spoke. "We will continue on our way to Nerik to purchase more cloaked ships so that the Nedwuts will be better equipped to seek out and destroy them. In the meantime, put out the information that I am donating ten million credits to the Galactic Orphans Fund and reducing the cost of medications from Grekkor Pharmaceuticals. Oh, and Worell..."

  "Sir?"

  "That slave ship we were to put those two women on..."

  "Yes?"

  "Have someone in our fleet track it down and rescue the slaves aboard. Make it look good, and once the slaves are off the ship, blow it up. No survivors please."

  "Yes, sir." Worell waited a moment and then asked, "Will there be anything else, sir?"

  "No," Grekkor replied. "That should be quite enough." He took another sip of his wine before adding, "Though perhaps we should arrange a reception of some kind on Nerik to announce these new philanthropic policies."

 

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