by R. E. Vega
She dropped to her knees, pressing her back against her familiar workspace. The other man chuckled as they both began fiddling with their belts.
Their momentary shift in attention was the only amount time she needed to grab the weapon she always kept hidden beside her station, and she didn’t hesitate. She shot the first man in his femur, dropping him in an instant. A split second later, she shot the other man through his hand, which just happened to already be on his most prized possession. The way he dropped to his knees then fell onto his face told her she’d hit that, too.
“Fucking imbeciles.” She clambered to her feet, walking quickly across the bridge to the exit, where she could still hear occasional gunfire. And while she’d been ordered to remain at her post when the raiders had entered, she figured that now that she’d shot two of them down, maybe Thad and Brax wouldn’t treat her like she was some sort of precious cargo herself. There was no way to know if Brax was safe—he wasn’t on the ship, after all. And for all she knew, they might have hit him as he left the ship. Thad might not even still be alive, considering how many shots she’d already heard fired just outside the bridge.
One less person between me and a promotion if Brax is dead. She wanted to believe her own words—it would have been nice to be able to separate her ambition from the goddamn twisting in her gut she felt when Brax was around. But she knew all too well that it was bullshit. He probably did, too, for that matter, which made him all the more infuriating.
She grabbed another weapon from the store on the wall beside the bridge door before heading out, steadying herself on the wall as she looked down the corridor for any additional raiders.
She ran down the hallway toward the sound of the gunfire, keeping her back against the wall as much as she was able, her gun at the ready. But she didn’t even make it to the commons—the place she was sure she’d heard the gunfire originating when she’d first entered the hallway—when she heard a different, unmistakable sound.
The earsplitting whine of Ulan’s power.
She’d only heard it a few times before, the last time about a year ago when they’d been in a similar situation with a small crew of raiders. The Defiance crew was trained well in defending themselves, but even when they were armed, they were no match for a highly skilled band of raiders, which was when Ulan’s power really came in handy. And you just never knew when one of those raiding parties was going to find you and try to hijack you—even docked safely at an outpost like Castalia still left a ship like Defiance open and vulnerable. And the dumbass raiders seemed to think that just because they were men, they could do whatever the hell they wanted with the women of the ships they boarded.
And now with that Trousso motherfucker in power, rape had been all but decriminalized, so it was a good thing that Dayna had been trained as a weapons specialist almost from birth. She knew how to protect herself, and her fascination with guns had started from an early age. Serving aboard the Defiance gave her the opportunity to do two of the things she loved most in life—piloting a ship and getting to defend it.
Not that her male crew mates agreed with Captain Arleth’s decision to have Dayna in charge of anything. She knew part of it was her baby-faced features.
But she was old enough—and more than experienced enough—to command the entire ship if the opportunity arose. And far more capable of protecting herself than anyone seemed to want to give her credit for. And now seemed like a very important time for a woman to know how to protect herself from assholes who would try to take from her what wasn’t theirs. Assholes like the two she’d left lying in pools of their own blood on the bridge, and even bigger assholes like Trousso.
None of that mattered at the moment, though. Now that Ulan had uncorked his magic stash of whatever the fuck it was he kept bottled up inside him, it was probably only a matter of minutes before the entire platoon of IU patrols stationed on Castalia would force themselves upon the crew.
And rape might be far better than they could hope for if that happened.
She made her way to the common area, and sure enough, Ulan and Thad were standing over a second pair of raiders.
“Goddamn it, Ulan,” Thad muttered. “I told you I had it under control.”
Ruce entered the room next, glancing between the two men on the floor before lifting his gaze to rest on his male crewmates. “I got the one by the bay doors before he could get off the ship with anything. But there have to be at least a couple more. These raiding parties never come aboard a ship this size without at least five—”
“The other two are on the bridge.” Dayna interrupted. “And if you would have let me join in this little soiree, we probably could have had this over with a hell of a lot faster and without the stupid display.” She glared over at Ulan. “What the hell were you thinking? The IU guard is going to be all over this shit in a matter of moments. We need to get the hell out of here, pronto.”
Thad’s eyes narrowed a bit, and he didn’t acknowledge the first part of her declaration at all. “She’s right. There’s a ton of chatter about the new tech they’re trying out here, and the detection system is the flagship. They really feel like they have it nailed down.” He let out a breath, glancing again between the two male crewmembers before he turned his attention to Dayna. “And I never authorized you to leave the bridge, Jackson.”
“Well, you’re not my captain, Thad. Besides, I took those two down myself. Look how many of you it took to take down the other three.”
Gregson chose that particular moment to enter the common area, only proving her point. “I couldn’t find any others, Thad.”
“Good,” Thad replied. “Get the bodies off the ship and feed them to the sharks for all I care. I’d tell you to turn them in, but I don’t want to raise suspicions with the IU guards any more than we already have.” He turned back to Ulan and Ruce. “Ready the ship for departure and get word to the captain that we’ll be needing to leave a little sooner than planned.”
BRAX
Well, at least the beautiful women hadn’t all gone into hiding.
Andromeda Tavern was, for the most part, as sad and depressing as Brax had feared it would be, but at least people were still here. It might not have been as lively as he remembered, but it appeared the people of Castalia saw plenty of reason to keep drinking in spite of—perhaps because of—the new regime. The usual crowd was here. They were just…quieter.
The moment he’d walked into the room, his eyes had been drawn to one patron in particular—a tall woman with dark hair sitting alone at the bar. He couldn’t see much of her from here, but judging by her shapely backside, she was exactly his type.
And exactly where he planned on starting his investigations.
Brax wove his way through the tables of despondent drinkers and toward the bar. The last time he’d been here, this place had been loud with drunken arguments, laughter, and off-key singing. There was usually some terrible live band playing in the corner, and half the patrons were one drink away from a brawl. Now, though, the conversations were quieter. There was no music—instead, the establishment streamed the Interplanetary News Network on two large screens above the bar.
What a waste of a good drinking establishment. Politics and alcohol should not mix.
Unfortunately, mixing alcohol and politics was exactly his job for today.
He reached the bar, taking a seat two down from the woman with the dark hair. From here, he could see her a little better, and his assessment was growing more favorable with every passing moment. She was young—but not so young as to make him feel lecherous. The bright violet color of her eyes made him suspect she wasn’t originally from this part of the galaxy, but Castalia was such a melting pot of people that one could never be sure. He was pleased to see that she was as shapely from the front as she was from the back, and judging by the cut of her shirt, she knew it—and had every intention of showing it off.
The question was—what was a beautiful woman like this doing sitting at a bar by herself? He’d been in this
business long enough to find that suspicious. It was possible she was a prostitute, of course, but he doubted she would be so bold, given the state of fear that seemed to hold Castalia in its grip.
So he ordered an Alethian Ale and waited.
On the screen above him, a woman reported, “As of this morning, President Trousso has signed into law the historic ‘Protect Your Neighbor’ Act. Those who report the suspicious or illegal activity of their neighbors will now receive special rewards from the government, and those who are aware of but fail to report such crimes will be subject to punishment under this new law.”
The screen cut to an image of President Trousso standing behind a podium. The man was a buffoon—his ridiculous poof of golden hair did little to distract from a face that looked like melting wax—but somehow he’d managed to get the majority of the IU to elect him.
“This new law will mean huge things for the Interplanetary Union,” Trousso said. “We’ll be the safest place in the universe. The best place. We’ll find all the bad guys and send them far away. We’ll make Earth and all of the other planets and colonies of the IU safe again.”
The people in the room with President Trousso let out a great cheer, but the patrons of Andromeda Tavern didn’t make a sound. Brax glanced over his shoulder. Most people weren’t even paying attention to the screens, but many of those near him didn’t look particularly pleased by the president’s little speech. The man next to him mumbled something under his breath and took a drink.
That was his opening.
“Do you think people will do it?” Brax said casually to the man next to him. “Report people for suspicious activity, I mean.”
The man beside him looked up sharply. He was probably only a few years older than Brax’s thirty-five, but it was hard to tell. He had a wearied, weathered look about him, and a long scar stretched across his shaved head. He looked Brax up and down, distrust and annoyance playing across his face.
“Don’t know,” he grumbled, turning away from Brax.
“I understand being diligent,” Brax continued. “But this new law sounds like a disaster. Can you imagine how many false accusations are going to be thrown around? Half the people will be in it for the reward, while the other half will just be terrified that they’ll overlook something and be punished for it.” He shook his head. “I thought President Trousso promised to cut government spending. Instead, I’m afraid this is only going to—”
“Look,” the man said, spinning back toward Brax. “This ain’t the place for that sort of talk. A wise man don’t ask or answer any questions about any laws.” Then he stood up, grabbed his drink, and walked down to the other end of the bar, effectively ending the conversation.
Well, that was something.
But now he had a little more information, at least. The fear here was even greater than he’d realized. The last time he’d visited here, people on all sides of the political spectrum had been happy—even eager—to point out exactly what they didn’t like about the government. The people of Castalia were, due to the colony’s location and its diversity, a mixed bag of tastes and politics. It was something people of this place had come to accept—even appreciate.
He rubbed the side of his neck and took another drink. Gathering information was going to be a lot more difficult than he thought if people were going to be this close-mouthed.
“What do you think about the new law?” came a voice beside him. “Do you think it’s foolish?”
He looked up, surprised. The beautiful woman beside him was looking at him with curiosity in her purple eyes.
He shifted toward her, grinning. “A wise man once told me that wise men don’t ask or answer any questions about any laws.”
“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not a man, then,” she said, smiling. “And as for you…well, I’ll leave that up to your discretion. But I, for what it’s worth, prefer men who aren’t afraid to speak their mind.”
I bet you do. Perhaps this mission wouldn’t be such a bust after all.
“I’m happy to speak my mind,” he said. “Though I’d prefer to start by knowing with whom I’m speaking.” He held out a hand. “I’m Drake Lynwood.” It was the name he always used when he was gathering intel.
“A pleasure to meet you, Drake. I’m Sarai.” She took his hand, and her fingers were warmer than he expected.
“No last name?” he asked, leaning his elbow on the bar.
“I prefer to keep it to myself. I like to think it makes me more mysterious.”
“It certainly does,” he said. “And I can’t say that’s a bad thing.”
Her smile widened, and he felt his cock respond. He had to be careful with this one—a couple sentences in and she already had him on his toes.
“Where are you from, Sarai?” he asked.
“From Castalia, born and raised. But you aren’t.”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Considering the exchange you just had with that man over there, yes, it is.” Something flickered in her eyes. “But I can’t say that’s a bad thing.”
“Tired of Castalian men, are you?”
“Let’s just say I prefer my men a little more…worldly. That’s one of the advantages to living here—I get to meet people from all over the galaxy.” Her fingers slid across the bar and brushed against his hand. “Where are you from? You strike me as someone who’s spent a good deal of his life aboard a ship, not on a planet.”
“Right again,” he said. “I’ve been working on trading vessels since I was fifteen.”
“So young?”
“I wanted to see the galaxy. It sounded like an adventure.”
Her smile widened. “I’ve bet you seen so much. It must be so exciting, traveling all over space. How far have you been?”
“To the very edges of the galaxy. As far as Ophion IV in one direction, and all the way to Hypnos in the other.”
Her violet eyes widened. “You’ve been to Ophion IV? Isn’t travel there forbidden?”
“It is now, yes,” he said with a shrug. “But it wasn’t then. The laws of space travel have changed a lot since I first stepped aboard a ship. Especially in the last few months.”
She looked down, as if lost in thought. Her finger brushed gently against the back of his palm.
“You must not be very happy about the results of the recent election,” she said after a moment. “I know President Trousso has put a lot of restrictions on space travel.”
He shrugged, keeping it casual. “Inconveniences, mostly. We can still move freely enough.”
“We?” She looked back up at him again. “You mean your crew? Are you the captain?”
He’d already lied about his name—there was no reason he couldn’t lie about a few other things, too, especially since Sarai was responding so well to him. If he continued to play along, she might be a ripe source for the information he needed.
“Yes, I’m the captain,” he said, beaming.
“Oh, I’ve never met a captain before,” she said.
“Never? And living in Castalia?”
She laughed. “All right—I’ve met a few. But most were old and mean. Not like you.”
“Well, perhaps I can tell you about a few of my adventures,” he said. “But first—shall I get you a new drink?”
“Honestly, I’ve had enough for the afternoon,” she said. “But I wouldn’t mind a little fresh air.” She leaned closer, and Brax got an eyeful of the swell of her breasts peeking over her low neckline. “Maybe you can show me your ship?”
That he most certainly could not do, but he wasn’t ready to walk away from this woman just yet. He licked his lips, which suddenly felt very dry.
“Unfortunately, the Skybird is undergoing some repairs at the moment,” he said. “It isn’t possible to take anyone aboard for the time being. But I’m happy to go for a walk with you, if you’d like.”
“Ah, well, I was actually just hoping for a little time alone with you,” she said, her lashes fluttering. “I live ju
st up the street—perhaps you’d like to come back to my place and tell me about some of your adventures?”
That sounded like an altogether delightful idea.
“Of course,” he said. “Lead the way.”
He nearly stumbled off his stool, he was so eager, but he forced himself to remain calm.
You’re not here to satisfy your cock, he thought. You’re here to get information. But Sarai seemed eager to talk to him—and if she was eager to do other things, too, then he wasn’t about to complain.
He followed her out onto the street, slightly tripping over the step just outside the door.
“Forgive me,” he said when he bumped into her. “It’s been a while since I was on solid land.”
She laughed, and the sound made his cock throb against the fabric of his pants.
“It’s this way,” she said, taking his hand and lacing her fingers through his.
He let her lead him through the crowd. In fact, he was grateful for her guidance—everything seemed brighter now than it did before he entered the tavern, and it was starting to give him a headache. He bumped into a couple of other people as he stumbled after her.
That ale was stronger than I remembered. Or maybe it’s just been too long since I’ve had a proper drink.
Either way, he felt almost drunk. With every step, the throbbing in his head got a little worse. And the sky seemed so bright he had to squint.
“Sarai,” he said after a moment, and his voice sounded funny to his ears. “Sarai, I need to stop for a moment.”
“Of course,” she said, pulling him out of the crowd and toward what appeared to be a small, relatively deserted alley.
“I must be coming down with something,” he said—or tried to say. The words didn’t sound right at all.
He reached out and propped a hand against the wall, but he still felt dizzy. There was a strange, shivery feeling in his legs.
“Sarai…” he tried to say again.
Suddenly there was a warm hand on either side of his face, and Sarai’s purple eyes looked into his.