Forsaken

by Cyndi Friberg

  Kotto squared his shoulders and hardened his expression. “If I can’t handle a human female by myself, I’m not worthy of command.”

  “Give her a thrust for me—”

  “Ease in and—”

  “Start with—”

  “—until she squirms like a—”

  The officers’ overlapping encouragements became progressively raunchier as they circled the command center.

  Sental ended with, “Can I watch?”

  Kotto could no longer hold back his laughter. “Sorry, brothers. I work better without an audience, but I appreciate the support.” He waited for the amusement to clear before he growled, “Now get back to work.”

  Encouraged by the banter, Kotto looked back at the overview grid. He needed to update Raylon, but there was no indication of when Raylon would return to the Crusader. He had quarters on board reserved for his use, but it wasn’t unusual for him to remain on one of the other ships if there were complications. It was Raylon’s job to coordinate operations between all of the ships on or near Earth. Kotto wasn’t even sure which ship Raylon was currently aboard. Raylon was terrible about keeping others informed of his movements. He answered to General Nox and only General Nox.

  There were currently five Rodyte ships on or near Earth, if the Relentless was still in this star system. Locating Akim Farmon was one of Kotto’s secondary objectives. There had been no sign of the bastard in the two weeks since the disastrous rescue mission. Still, Kotto knew Akim was out there, searching for the Crusader as intensely as they were searching for him. It was only a matter of time before they crossed paths again, and Kotto was determined to make the most of the opportunity.

  Command was always a balancing act. He had to prioritize and make decisions every hour of every day. He generally welcomed the challenge, but remaining objective when it came to Akim was particularly difficult. Not only was the man an amoral monster, he was Chandar’s captor. Keyran had scarified his career in his attempt to rescue her. Kotto was just as dedicated to her freedom, but he hoped to accomplish the goal without a similar sacrifice. Ending Akim and freeing Chandar would ensure that Keyran’s sacrifice hadn’t been in vain.

  Then, in Kotto’s spare time, he needed to find the mysterious journals and refurbish Lunar 9.

  Allowing himself a frustrated sigh, Kotto deactivated the grid and stepped away from the master console. The most complicated mission was completed one objective at a time.

  “I’ll likely be occupied for the rest of this shift,” he said more or less to Sental.

  “Take your time, Commander. Gods know I would.”

  Another round of obscene encouragements erupted as Kotto walked from the room. He didn’t bother chastising his men. Each one was already risking death and dishonor to further the rebel cause. The occasional surge of obnoxiousness was to be expected.

  He scrambled for a strategy as he walked to his quarters. Unfortunately, the walk wasn’t long. The ship’s commander and the top fourteen officers each had accommodations on the command deck, so his cabin was down the hall and to the right. Still unsure how to proceed, he stayed well back from the door so the sensors wouldn’t detect his arrival. Was Raina still angry? She’d had six hours to analyze the situation, to weigh her options and arrive at the most logical conclusion. Raina was a scientist. Surly he could appeal to her reason without having to deal with tantrums or tears.

  * * * * *

  Six hours! The heartless bastard had left her locked in this cage for six hours. Okay, maybe it was a nice, surprisingly large cabin, not a cage, but that didn’t change the fact that she’d been stewing in her own frustration for much too long. The guard who’d escorted her to Kotto’s quarters had barely looked at her much less made any attempt to ease her fear or defuse her anger. Even the chest-high robot that rolled into the cabin a few hours later had presented her with a tray full of edibles then spun around and departed as swiftly as it had arrived.

  Raina had a spectacular view of the moon on one side of the sitting area and the Earth on the other. The moon side might be a large window, but the Earth side was an interior wall so it had to be some sort of display. She tried to find a control panel and attempted numerous verbal commands, but the image remained the same. She didn’t object to the view. It was just in her nature to discover how things worked.

  Frustrated by her inability to control her environment, she sat alone at the table and nibbled on the sandwich and fresh fruit supplied by the robot. There was ice water in a decanter, even a cloth napkin. It had been almost relaxing, for a time. But silence and inactivity were not conducive to peaceful thoughts.

  It had been years since she’d read Mimi’s journals, but her mind reproduced the stories with as much detail as she could remember. Royal intrigue and warring factions had been so much more entertaining when Raina believed the events fictitious. Still, she was on a spaceship and Bandar had known facts that weren’t in the journals. Denial was pointless. She needed to decide what she wanted to do.

  Yes, Kotto’s approach had been heavy-handed. That didn’t change the fact that this was an unbelievable opportunity. She was orbiting the moon. How could she possibly turn her back on everything these people could teach her?

  She stood beside the table, staring out at the moon, feeling displaced and isolated. If Ashley hadn’t been part of the rebellion, it would have been easier for Raina to walk away. But Ashley wasn’t easily swayed. Something real and compelling had convinced her to… Bandar’s image intruded on Raina’s orderly thoughts. With his rugged good looks and commanding personality, who wouldn’t have been affected by him?

  The word commanding sent her thoughts spinning off in a different direction. Bandar was impressive, but true command emanated from Kotto. Their interactions had been brief and semi-hostile. So why was she so anxious for their next round?

  Kotto had snapped orders at Bandar in the cube, aggressively pushing until Bandar backed down. It had been like watching rival alpha wolves snarl at each other. And I was the cause. The realization was much more appealing than it should have been. They hadn’t been vying for the right to claim her. They’d been—she shivered as a forbidden thrill cascaded through her body. According to Mimi’s journals, that was exactly how it was with Rodyte warriors. They hunted, pursued and claimed their females.

  But Kotto’s interest in her was professional, not personal. He needed a scientist, not a mate. She simply wasn’t the sort of female to elicit a strong response in any male. Being Ashley’s best friend had been hard on Raina’s ego. Ashley was warm and loving, her loyalty unflappable. But men frequently flirted with Raina for the sole purpose of getting close to, or gaining information about, Ashley. Raina couldn’t blame Ashley for the thoughtlessness of college-age men. For the most part, Ashley didn’t even want the attention. Still, it had eroded Raina’s already fragile self-esteem.

  Raina crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the moon, determined to think about something else, anything else. Why was the ship orbiting the moon rather than the Earth? There had to be significance to the position. Or was there—

  The main door hissed and Raina turned around as Kotto strode into the cabin. Her heart did the same tight flip it had executed the first time she’d seen him. By human standards, Bandar was better looking. So why did Kotto’s angular features and penetrating stare trigger reactions in her that Bandar didn’t? She wasn’t afraid, exactly. He made her feel edgy and restless.

  “I hope you weren’t too bored.” The door slid closed behind him and he moved deeper into the room. “It took a bit longer for me to return to you than I’d anticipated.”

  Her first instinct was to pick up the metal tray cover and fling it at his head. But she was a grown woman, not an irrational teen. Instead, she stepped away from the window/screen and said, “I’ve had plenty of time to consider my options. I’d like to leave now.”

  “Really?” His pace slowed as he approached. His expression might be casual, but it was obvious he was st
alking her. “Would you please explain what led to this conclusion?”

  She gritted her teeth, unable to suppress the anger surging through her system. This was a game to him! He had no intention of releasing her regardless of her feelings on the matter. But she’d grown up arguing with a lawyer, so she knew a thing or two about twisting words. “I don’t trust you and I have no interest in working with or for you. I’ve had my fill of aliens. I want to go home.” Even in her ears she sounded like a petulant child.

  He took a step closer. “What if I told you there’s a Rodyte outpost inside the moon? Would it be worth six months of your life for the opportunity to explore such a facility?”

  That was so unfair. Rumors about the moon had been circulating longer than Raina had been alive. Mimi had been obsessed with the idea that aliens were using the moon as a sort of observatory. “You are such a jerk.”

  He chuckled and motioned toward the table. “Would you like something to drink?” His gaze swept the contents of the tray. “It looks like you were only offered water.”

  She’d fully intended on pitching a fit the second he walked through the door. She was going to explain, in explicit terms, what she thought of his hospitality and exactly where he could shove his job. She even practiced several speeches with varying levels of profanity. Instead, she found herself silently moving to the table and sitting down. She was such a coward, a spineless little mouse. This shouldn’t be surprising. She’d always been this way. She imagined herself standing up for herself, staring adversity right in the face. But when it came time for the actual conflict, she tucked her tail between her legs and scurried away.

  Without waiting for her answer, he crossed to a device inset in the wall on the other side of the table. She’d wondered about its purpose, but like the wall display, she’d been unable to activate it. He spoke several phrases and the device came to life. A small panel illuminated, displaying symbols Raina presumed were a Rodyte language. The front panel slid up, revealing a compartment and two tall glasses. One contained a pale green beverage, the other yellowish gold.

  “Did that just dispense the beverages or did it actually produce what you requested?”

  “Think of it as a highly sophisticated 3-D printer. It can ‘print’ almost anything as long as it has the pattern. This one only generates edible items.”

  “Why?”

  “Would you like to eat something generated by the same system that creates ammunition or cleaning supplies?”

  “Probably not.”

  He joined her at the table and set the two glasses in front of her. “This is a mild wine made from mountain berries.” He pointed to the green beverage. “And this is similar to apple juice, though you’ll find it less sweet.” He indicated the yellowish liquid.

  “Aren’t you having anything?”

  “Choose the one you prefer and I’ll drink the other.”

  He’d worn her down with isolation. Now he was going to kill her with kindness. She was tempted to refuse them both or toss one in his face. The rebellious thought made her smile. She’d never have the nerve to openly provoke him. Still, the image was amusing.

  She tried the juice first. It started off crisp and refreshing, but it had a sour aftertaste that reminded her of bad lemonade.

  “Too tart?” he asked in response to her grimace.

  She nodded and reached for the other glass. If this was horrible as well, there was still some water left in the decanter. But the wine was light and mild as he’d described. The flavor was unlike anything she’d tasted before. He’d said it was distilled from berries, yet it tasted nothing like any berry found on Earth. “This is much better.”

  “I’m glad you like it.” He picked up the other glass and leaned against the back of his chair. “I can’t show you the outpost unless you sign the contract, but I assure you it’s real.”

  “Is that where hydroponics is utilized?” He nodded. That made more sense than on a ship with special limitations. But there was no water on the moon. Moisture would need to be carefully recycled or she could use a combination of… Already her mind had moved from if to how. Damn his calculative hide. “How long have your people been spying on Earth?”

  “I’ve told you much more than I should have already and your grandmother’s journals give you a serious advantage over other humans. You know our history, or at least our history from a Bilarrian’s perspective.”

  “Mimi wasn’t Bilarrian.” Maybe if she was less argumentative, he’d open up as well.

  His voice remained calm, yet his gaze sharpened, becoming more intense. “She passed beyond when you were a child. How can you be sure?”

  “Mimi met Jinnel of Hautell while they were both captives. Jinnel was the true historian, the Bilarrian.”

  He leaned forward, resting both forearms on the tabletop. “They were captives of the same man? That’s really unusual.”

  She shook her head. “Their captors were assigned to the same ship, so the two females were allowed to spend time together. They became good friends. When Mimi was released, Jinnel begged her to smuggle the journals off the ship and continue her work on Earth.”

  “That was bold.”

  “Bold, but tragic. When Jinnel’s captor learned what she’d done, he killed her.”

  His brows drew together and his lips thinned. Obviously, he didn’t believe her. “How could your grandmother possibly know that if she was no longer on the ship?”

  It was a valid question, one she’d wondered herself as she was reading Mimi’s journals. “For several weeks after her release, Mimi could see into her captor’s mind. The ability eventually faded, but she learned the sad news from him.”

  The explanation smoothed his features though his gaze remained watchful, skeptical. “Why was your grandmother released before she’d delivered her offspring. That is highly unusual as well.”

  “She wasn’t a war bride. She was just a plaything. Once she began to suspect that she was pregnant, she acted out in progressively more disruptive ways until the ship’s commander ordered her captor to get rid of her.”

  “Then her captor didn’t realize she was expecting his child?”

  Or children. Raina hesitated. Her mother had an identical twin, but telling him this could endanger her aunt and cousin. Until she knew more, she’d keep her family out of this. “As I said, his motivation was sex not reproduction.”

  “You said Mimi was going to contact the Consortium as soon as the journals were finished. If she truly was human, how did she intend to accomplish interplanetary communications?”

  “I don’t know. She said the answer was in the journals. But to my knowledge, she never figured it out.”

  He paused with another distracted nod then asked, “Each sanctioned historian maintains their journals for a century. Few humans live that long. How many years are detailed in Mimi’s journals?”

  “Eighty-three. But remember Jinnel had already filled many volumes when Mimi took over.”

  His eyes narrowed again as he took a drink and stared off into the distance. “These journals are hardcopy volumes?”

  “Of course. Digital files didn’t exist fifty years ago. Why do you ask?”

  “Digital files didn’t exist on Earth fifty years ago. But why would a Bilarrian have numerous physical books with her when she was kidnapped?”

  Raina tried not to be annoyed by his persistent questions and still each one felt like an accusation. This must be how Mimi felt, year after year, while family members tried their best to punch holes in her stories. “Being a historian was the reason Jinnel was kidnapped. According to Mimi, Jinnel managed to destroy her digital files during the attack, but her captor found the physical journals. And none of the females were given access to technology on the ship, so the physical books became everyone’s focus.”

  “Was Jinnel kidnapped from Bilarri or somewhere else?”

  “She’d been sent to Earth with a group of assistants. Her assignment was to monitor and document any Rodyte
interaction with humans. Her assistants investigated rumors and odd developments so Jinnel could record the events accurately.”

  “No wonder her captor wanted her.” Kotto pushed back from the table and stood. His expression tensed and he was suddenly all business. “I need those books, Raina. Where are they?”

  She shook her head, heart thudding in her chest. “I’m not ready to tell you.”

  He crossed his arms, looking imperious and deadly. “Why are you being so stubborn?”

  “Why are you so obsessed?” Feeling vulnerable, even with the table between them, she stood as well. “The journals detail past events. Everything in them has already happened.”

  “My government is corrupt and self-serving. Records only reflect what they’re willing to admit and events are frequently twisted to the advantage of the rich and powerful. An objective accounting of Rodyte interaction with humans could be invaluable to what we’re trying to accomplish.”

  “I’m not even sure I understand what that is,” she cried.

  Rather than soothing her as he had before, he advanced. She backed up and found herself in a corner. The table was on her right, an angled wall on her left. He casually moved her chair out of his way and placed his hand on the wall. “To understand the battle born, you must understand the system that produced us.”

  “You make the battle born sound like a commodity.” She lowered her gaze to his throat. Their nearness seemed to calm him, but it was having the opposite effect on her. She wanted to run and hide, or…rub against his entire body like a greedy cat. But he didn’t think of her like that. Men never did. She needed to stop pretending she was Ashley or she’d humiliate herself.

  “We are a commodity.” His sharp voice cut through her discontent and drew her gaze back to his face. “We’re bought and sold, even traded. We’re produced like a crop for the slim possibility that we’ll restore magic to Rodyte bloodlines.”

  “And now you want to use human females for exactly the same purpose.”