“All by herself?”
The priestess stood a few steps off to his left, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at her. She moved farther into his line of sight, walking over to the table and setting down the utensils. “It wasn’t any trouble.”
Another figure appeared in the galley doorway, saving him from answering.
“Zander Graydon, you uppity sonuvabitch. I heard you were expecting a ride to Tetsu onboard my ship.”
Rian strode forward and gripped Zander’s arm. The captain admiral pulled him in for a quick pat on the back and he returned it awkwardly. It’d been years since he’d last seen Zander, this man who’d been a constant companion, mentor, and friend during the first long years of war. He found himself surprisingly happy to see him. Well, if being happy could be classified as feeling a little less animosity towards his life and that bitch, fate, then this was likely about as cheerful as he got.
Zander returned the greeting and then stepped back, an old, familiar, smart-ass gleam in his eye. “I don’t know, is this junker space worthy?”
“Worthy enough to at least make orbit so I can vent you for maligning her.”
Zander laughed. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”
Everyone took a seat around the table, Sen coming in and sliding into a seat just as everyone started serving themselves. The crew mostly all ate together, but it had been a while since Rian could remember everyone being so animated. Even the new crew members and Zander, as a guest, seemed comfortable. For the first time, every spot at the large table had been taken, leaving no empty spaces.
With a mental shrug, he leaned forward and took a mouthful of food, some kind of dish he’d never seen before. The flavor burst over his tongue, delicious and warm. Goddamn. He couldn’t ever remember eating anything that tasted this good. Sen was easily the best cook on the ship, but this far surpassed even his best efforts.
Food to him had never really been of consequence. Sustenance kept him going and he’d eat anything, as long as it wasn’t revolting. But this dish was a revelation. He swallowed and unable to help himself, looked over at Ella.
Though Zahli was talking to her, the priestess stared at him and her mossy, hazel gaze sparked a blaze within him before she glanced away. Her food seemed like a reflection of her—rich, luscious, and so damn exotic he wanted to bury himself, get lost, in the luxuriant sensations.
A trickle of resentment slithered through him. The damn woman was taking over his ship. He couldn’t get away from her. Everywhere he went, he caught the faint scent of moon jasmine. More and more, he found his thoughts drifting to her, not thinking of anything in particular, just picturing her in his mind.
Even if he decided not to work out why the Reidar wanted her, he couldn’t kick her off the ship—in fact he couldn’t even let her step foot off the Imojenna without him, considering the bounty out on her. He was starting to think it was Ella specifically they wanted, not just any random Arynian. And those suspicions had been confirmed when he’d purposefully taken her out last night. Two million hard credits? Someone wanted her, and it didn’t take more than two brain cells to work out the Reidar were behind the ridiculous bounty. But at least he had a better idea of what they were up against.
The ship’s comms chimed, indicating a transmission had come in.
Lianna put her fork down and stood. “I’ll get it.”
Rian resumed eating, though he couldn’t enjoy it with her permeating every mouthful he took. After another bite, he gave up and pushed his plate away. Zahli sent him a questioning glance, but his personal comm pinged before his sister could start grilling him.
He tapped the comm as he sat back. “What is it?”
“I’ve got a guy here who wants to talk to you about a failure to deliver some cargo,” Lianna replied through the comm.
Now what? This had better be a simple mix up so he could get back to eating his dinner. He glanced at the abandoned plate. Or not eating. Maybe he could just go get a beer. Could that be classified as a meal?
He sighed as he stood. “Patch it through to the display in the common room. I want visual, but only return audio.”
The large display flickered to life and a man appeared on screen. He didn’t look like one of their usual clients. He wore an expensive-looking business suit, while the background showed an opulent office somewhere.
“Captain Sherron, my name is Baden Niels, I believe you took possession of some cargo belonging to me. I’d like to know when it’s going to be delivered.”
Baden Niels? Frecking Christ.
Rian tabbed his comm and then folded his arms, bracing his feet wide in a belligerent stance. As if things weren’t frecking complicated enough. It took every bit of willpower not to look back at Ella, though he swore he could feel the heat of her gaze on him, expecting him to save her. Since when had he become so damn heroic? Part of him kept repeating that he should have just left her on Arleta, certain death or not.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Niels, but I don’t have any outstanding deliveries. You’ve got the wrong ship.”
Niels inclined his head with a slight movement. “I’d appreciate if we could talk about this issue face to face.”
He touched the comm again, turning audio off for a moment as he glanced at Ella.
“Stay out of visual range. Don’t say anything. I don’t care what you hear or see.” His gaze swept over the rest of the crew, including Zander, who were all looking at him with varying degrees of confusion. “That goes for everyone. Lianna, give me visual both ways.”
Ella set down her utensils and rose to move behind the galley bench. Zahli joined her, sending the priestess a warm smile.
The viewer display flickered, and then Niels’s gaze focused on him. “Now, Captain Sherron, about my cargo?”
“Like I just said, I don’t have any deliveries owing, so I’m afraid I can’t help you.”
Niels laced his fingers on the desk and smiled, but the expression didn’t go anywhere near being friendly. “Arnon Rance told me the Imojenna arrived on Arleta and took possession of the cargo.”
Frecking Arnon Rance. That pissing roach had come long overdue to get what he deserved. Next time he saw the guy, he really would shoot him. And his weapon wouldn’t be set on stun.
Rian shrugged. “I chose not to follow through on that particular run. I’m at liberty to decline cargo if I see it and decide I don’t want to take it onboard. I told Rance as much. Your cargo is probably still on Arleta.”
“I was rather unimpressed with Mr. Rance’s choice in freighter for my cargo. We had a conversation, and I believe we came to an understanding about my disappointment. Unfortunately he met with an untimely accident soon after we parted ways.” Niels dropped the affable appearance, his gaze taking on a hard edge. “I have received reports stating that the cargo was seen on the Rim, where you are currently docked. That’s a bit of a coincidence, wouldn’t you say?”
Rance was dead? Well, the guy kind of had it coming. He sent Niels a bland smile. “I wouldn’t know. The cargo I deal with generally doesn’t go places on its own.”
“I don’t want to play games with you, Sherron. I want that cargo.”
He hooked a hand on his belt and moved back towards the table. “You know, I just happen to have the captain admiral of the Swift Brion onboard, an upstanding IPC officer. Maybe you’d like to explain to him all about your missing cargo. You could start with exactly what you’re missing.”
Niels’s gaze moved over to where Zander sat at the table, reclining against the back of the chair. The captain admiral inclined his head, but didn’t say anything.
“That won’t be necessary. I’m sure this matter will be resolved very shortly.”
The transmission cut out, making the screen go blank. With a quiet sigh, because he knew that wouldn’t be the last he’d hear from Niels, Rian returned to the table, ignoring the questioning looks his crew gave him.
Zander sat forward and picked up his knife and fork. “What was al
l that about?”
Zahli and Ella returned to the table, and Rian shook his head as he sat. “Nothing to be concerned about. Just a misunderstanding.”
His gaze caught Ella’s, almost of its own volition. The strange, warm sensation he’d felt only once before touched him for a brief moment, sending a jolting shock of humming heat through him.
Thank you. Ella’s voice echoed in his mind, deep within him, in places he didn’t like to acknowledge existed. He glared at her. If they’d been alone, he’d rake her over for doing that damned mind-stuff again, but he didn’t want to say anything in front of the crew. She sent him a serene smile, as if his anger couldn’t touch her, and went back to eating.
He was thinking about going to find his meal-replacement-beer when a strange thumping echoed from somewhere in the bottom of the ship.
Zahli looked up at him. “Did you hear—?”
The incursion alarms wailed through the ship.
Niels’s last words resurfaced in his brain, something about the issue would be taken care of very shortly. It didn’t take much to put slimy-Reidar-bastard together with unauthorized-ship-breach-alarm and come up with the conclusion Niels had sent a team to take Ella by force.
“Frecking bastards.” Rian shoved out of the chair, knocking it back as he ran for the bridge. “Start lockdown procedures. We might have to make an abrupt departure.”
“We can’t,” Sen said, making him pause. “The engines are still offline.”
“Goddamn frecking hell.” He pushed his hair back with both hands and continued upwards, Lianna beating him to bring up ship-wide parameter information on the viewport display.
“Still want to tell me it’s nothing?” Zander asked him as Rian slid into his chair and read over the data.
“Because sarcasm is really helping right now, Graydon.” The bastards had gained control of the cargo bay doors; they were already half open. “Lianna, get control of those doors. I don’t want any of them getting on this ship.”
Her fingers flew over her crystal display, but she shook her head. “I can’t. I’m locked out.”
“Everette!” Rian stood, pulling out his nucleon gun and checking it over with automatic movements. Tannin arrived on bridge, and Rian pointed to the pilot’s seat. “Help Lianna. Get this ship back in control and locked down.”
Familiar hatred burned through him like acid. Goddamn bastards. He’d slaughter every single Reidar that stepped foot on his ship and have the decomposed alien carcasses express-shipped to Niels. See how the asshole liked that cargo.
“You up for a fight?” He looked over at Zander as he grabbed out a second gun.
“Always. But who are they and what do they want?”
“They want Ella, but I don’t have time to explain why right now, or who they are. There’re weapons stored in my cabin. Callan will show you where and get you holstered up.”
Zander nodded and followed Callan off the bridge.
“I’ve got the cargo hatch back. It’s going up,” Tannin reported. “But we’ve got guests onboard. Six.”
Rian braced a hand against the back of the chair and looked over Tannin’s shoulder at the crystal display. “Can you lock down this entire level?”
Tannin frowned. “I locked down the cargo bay and engine level, but they’ve gotten through and are about to the blast doors on crew level. They must have some kind of equipment that’s cutting through the actual panels, because according to the data, none of the blast doors were opened.”
Like he really needed something else to add to his list of things that needed fixing on this goddamn shite bucket. Blast doors were frecking expensive.
“Crew level breeched.” Tannin’s expression tensed, turning grim.
Rian handed one of his pulse pistols to Tannin and then gave the other to Lianna.
“For what it’s worth, lock down the bridge when I leave. If they breach the blast doors, I want the controls defended with your life. If the Reidar take over, I’d better find your lifeless bodies littering the floor, or I’ll shoot you both myself. Give me five seconds to get across the hall and then lock down the galley as well.”
Neither of them said anything as he turned and jumped over the railing, skipping the few stairs and landing in the passage outside the galley. Above him, the bridge blast doors lowered into place with a clunk.
In the common room, Zander, Callan, Sen, and Zahli had already taken up defensive positions. Kira and Ella stood underneath the large screen viewer. He held out a hand and Callan threw him a nucleon rifle. The galley blast doors came down behind him.
“We’ve got six onboard and they’re getting through the blast doors like the things are made of paper.”
He walked over to the table and grabbed the end, nodding at Zander, who came forward and gripped the other side. Rian dug his toe into the clamp and released the catch. They flipped the table onto its side, sending the few utensils and empty dishes flying.
“Get that couch over here.”
Jensen and Callan repeated the unclamping procedure on the long couch and shoved it forward, reinforcing what little barrier they’d created.
Zander hunkered down on the far end of the table, gun ready, while Callan and Sen took up a strategic location behind the galley counter.
Slinging the strap of the rifle over his shoulder and checking the power pack, Rian looked at the three girls where they’d sat down between Zander and him. Zahli had her own pulse pistol ready, but the doc and priestess were unarmed.
He looked at Ella, with that damned calm expression on her face, despite everything going on. “I thought you said if the Reidar tried to take you back you could do something about it.”
She returned his stare, her hazel eyes striking deep within him. “I have not been directly threatened. My training forbids me from acting in such a way that could harm or interfere with others unless my life or wellbeing is endangered beyond all doubt.”
He shoved the power pack back into the rifle with more force than necessary, anger and incomprehension adding fuel to the blaze already on the verge of exploding within him.
“They’re here for you, princess. How does that not fit into your definition of being directly threatened? You going to wait until we’re all dead and one of them walks up to grab you before you blast them into oblivion?”
Her eyes narrowed, lips thinning, but she looked away, no doubt because she knew he was right.
“Fine, we’ll all just shoot it out and see what happens then.” He tightened his grip on the rifle and lined up the sights toward the hatchway.
A banging echoed from somewhere along the passage, probably the blast doors on this level. More frecking currency sucked out the hatch.
“Weapons at the ready. We’re about to party.” He uttered the words automatically, something he’d always said to his men before going into battle.
The old sensations of fighting for survival day in, day out, and the exhilaration mixed with piss-inducing fear washed through him, as though all the years hadn’t passed and he was back serving as an IPC officer. Zander threw him a grin as a hollow thump resonated from the galley doors. No doubt the bastard would enjoy every second of this. And people thought Rian was the psychotic sonuvabitch. They’d never met the real Zander Graydon.
Rian turned his attention to the hatchway, where a large circular area in the middle of the panel had turned darker. A weird popping noise sounded and the darkened area seemed to crumble in on itself. Whatever the assholes were using, it’d been quick and effective.
The lights in the passage beyond had been knocked out, so he couldn’t see much besides gloom and shadows. But as soon as he spotted an indistinct figure, Rian opened fire, a split second before Zander and Callan started shooting.
Flashes of gun blasts lit up the outer corridor as the Reidar returned shots. They all ducked for cover. He’d guess their enemy had their weapons set to stun— they’d want to take Ella alive, but he still didn’t want to get hit. He wouldn’t be able to
kill many of the mongrels if he was unconscious.
He ducked his head around the edge of the table. Two of the brazen bastards had stepped through the hole.
“Incursion!” he shouted over the peppering whine of the automatic fire. As he shoved to his feet, Zander went up with the same fluid motion. They exposed themselves for a split second to take down the pair trying to duck for the cover of the galley bench. Just like old times. A blast glanced off Zander. Rian swore, thinking Graydon would go down, but the tough-guy shook it off and kept on firing.
As the Reidar made the end of the counter, Sen came out shooting at the far end. Callan rose up right in front of them and blasted one in the throat, spinning to crack the other in the face with his elbow. With blood gushing from his nose, the Reidar tackled Callan, taking them both down behind the counter and out of sight. Another two slipped through the hole in the door and Rian swore.
How much did it take to bring these assholes down?
More gunfire echoed out in the passageway, adding to the chaos. He could feel them closing in. They needed to get a handle on this situation. He stood, bracing the rifle against his shoulder, and aimed his nucleon gun on the closest Reidar. Zander would have his back.
Chapter Eighteen
“What kind of security cameras does this ship have?” Tannin searched for access to feeds, but the only one he could find was in the cargo bay, where he’d first seen the six men come aboard. No, not men. Reidar, according to Rian. And no doubt they were aliens, since thermal scans and bio imaging had shown their bodies to be running at a higher temperature—like someone with a fever—and their bio composition was made up of slightly more fluid. They were small anomalies that could be explained away or not noticed, if people didn’t know what they were looking for, which was obviously how the Reidar’s presence in their galaxy had gone undetected for so long.
“IPC standard security tech we never had refitted,” Lianna answered, her voice tight. “But Rian disabled all the cameras except for the ones in the cargo bay. He didn’t like having them running all the time.”
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