To Touch the Stars

by Tess Mallory

  Eagle started to laugh, then realized she was serious. What was she up to now? He hesitated, but the challenge in her gaze was impossible to resist.

  "I would be delighted," he said, bowing slightly. He waved one phaser toward the three of them. "Lead on, Captain Sky. Your humble servant follows."

  She smiled at him, the gesture promising something he couldn't quite define. Revenge? Retribution? He wasn't sure, but he tossed the smile back at her and winked. She spun on her heel and began walking down the corridor, her two cohorts at her side. Eagle watched her go, unable to keep from admiring the way her hips moved sensuously from side to side, her silver-blond hair tossing in exact synchronization with her even strides.

  This was going to be interesting, Eagle thought. He stuck one of the phasers in his waistband and hurried after her.

  Eagle stood in the center of the cabin he'd been assigned, fighting the urge to throw himself across the bunk and sleep. There was too much to do, too much to figure out. He'd showered, eaten, had his ribs taped and been given a fresh set of clothing that actually fit him. His amusement and interest in his captor's name and backside had vanished as she ushered him into the room and told him coldly that she would expect him at the dinner hour. As the door had closed behind her, the happenings of the last ten hours had begun to sink in.

  During his years in the Forces, Eagle had endured many kinds of torture, some while being held prisoner on other worlds, some brought on by his own overactive conscience, but nothing he had ever experienced had prepared him for the bone-chilling panic that had coursed through his veins as he lay waiting for that needle to be plunged into his brain. Eagle let the tense control he'd kept over himself ever since he'd been brought aboard the Defiant slip away, and as he did, his legs folded beneath him.

  He sank to the gray carpeted floor and brought his hands down, pressing his palms against the flat surface. He bowed his head, allowing himself just for the moment, the luxury, of feeling his fear.

  When he'd awakened in the cargo hold, strapped down, the probe beside him, something in him had turned over and inside out. Because all at once he had known how it was going to feel to be put under the power of that machine. All at once he had known the horror of having his natural mental defenses pierced and his mind ravaged by a stranger. In that moment, he had felt helpless, defenseless—violated. It had been as real and as tangible as if he had experienced it all before. He shook the thought away. He'd never been probed. But he'd felt a searing wave of terror as he lay on that table awaiting the needle. A terrible desire to kill the woman doing this to him, to strip her mind from her, to torture her, to violate her as fully as she intended to violate him, had assaulted his mind. The realization had frightened him almost more than the probe. When had he become this vicious, this violent?

  His mother had died when he was but a child, and his upbringing had been solely at the hands of his father. Zarn was a strict disciplinarian but Eagle had found him to be fair in most instances. He remembered when he first joined the Forces wondering about some of the ruthlessness he witnessed, but Zarn had always managed to explain away his concerns. As he had grown and become more experienced as a soldier, he began to understand that when you were fighting a war, the usual rules of life did not apply. When you fought a war, things normally considered wrong, even evil, became necessary, devices used to ensure that Rigel would never again be subjugated by another world.

  Zarn had taught him, drilled it into him when he was a boy, that in the past Rigel's people had been enslaved by many other worlds and taken to distant parts of the galaxy to serve in subjection and humiliation. He himself had led the uprising of slaves thirty years before, the uprising that had destroyed the invaders then living on Rigel. He bad seised the alien technology and within a matter of months, had established a new regime, with equal freedoms for all Rigelians. It hadn't been long before they were attacked by other worlds eager to depose the new government and once again send the Rigelians back into a life of slavery. Zarn had been a natural leader, and his newly developed Forces had beaten off the marauders. That was where it had all begun. Who would have dreamed that within twenty years of that uprising, Rigel would reign in the quadrant, with dozens of other worlds under Zarn's auspicious and protective wings?

  Eagle took a deep breath. He had to pull himself together. This maudlin inner dialogue was doing him no good and was delaying him from finding a way off this tub. He pushed himself up from the floor and stumbled to his feet, wincing a little as the muscles around his sore ribs strained with the effort. He moved slowly to the small observation window in the opposite bulkhead. His charcoal-gray uniform—now identical to some of the ones his captors wore—brushed against a small statue sitting on the night table and he caught it just before it smashed to the floor.

  He looked down at the object. It fit in the palm of his hand. It was smooth, carved from a piece of black stone in the shape of a Ten'an cat. It belonged to her. He put it down as the knowledge rushed over him. How he knew, he had no idea, but he knew it, just as he now knew this was her cabin. The captain's cabin. How strangely generous of her—or was it her way of monitoring him at all times, for surely the captain's quarters would have those capabilities.

  She certainly didn't allow herself any perks as captain of the Defiant, he thought, gazing around at the austere room. Captain Sky. It was too, too absurd. Still… He moved back to the bed and finally gave in to his urges, lying back, stretching his aching muscles over the hard, flat surface. He didn't want to think about the indomitable ruler of this ship, but somehow, lying on her bed, in her cabin, it seemed inevitable.

  She was an enigma, a beautiful enigma he'd like to unravel slowly from the outside in, beginning with the removal of that masculine uniform she wore. He'd like to find out if the skin beneath her clothing was just as smooth and creamy as the skin exposed at her throat and wrists. He wanted to know if her skin felt like the petals of a flower, if her lips tasted as much like raspberries as they looked. He frowned, frustrated with the direction his mind was taking. Closing his eyes, Eagle tried to turn his thoughts elsewhere but the image of her face, and her body, kept hovering just on the edge of his consciousness.

  It was ridiculous. The only reason he was fantasizing about Captain Sky was because he hadn't been with a woman since he'd taken a trip a few months ago to a pleasure planet in the Caldonian system. The experience had ended up being so unpleasureable that he had made a decision to remain celibate for a time, at least until he met someone who didn't make him feel soiled by the act. And that someone certainly wasn't Captain Sky Spitfire with the polluted mouth. Not that she made him feel that way. No, she made him feel many things—hot all over, hard as a rock, tight with unreleased desire—but not soiled. He wanted her, and he despised himself for his ridiculous lust.

  Or was it lust? Maybe he wanted her because he wanted revenge. Men from the beginning of time had been forcing women to yield their bodies, not to be loved, but to be conquered.

  The thought of such a violation immediately sickened him, and Eagle felt relief at the knowledge. Perhaps he wasn't as far gone as he had feared, because it wasn't a forced rendevous he had in mind. When and if he ever removed her clothing, it would be with the slow, soft sensuality of a lover, and if and when he made love to her, she would be in total agreement and respond with the fire and passion he suspected she kept under careful control. To be the one who could make her lower those emotional shields—that would be a conquest worth exploring.

  With an oath that rivaled some he'd heard from the erstwhile captain, Eagle sat up again and flung his legs over the side of the bed. His feet hit the floor and he leaned his forehead on his hands, staring down at the gray boots he'd been given. The woman had tried to suck his mind from him and he was thinking about seducing her! What was wrong with him? He stood and began pacing with quick, angry, strides back and forth across the small cabin, hands clenched into fists at his side.

  He crossed the room, idly noting that an
other, taller statue sat on a low table nest to the wall, a rather amateurish attempt at a representation of a woman or a goddess of some sort. Stopping beside it, he fancied he saw a little of Sky in the eyes and cursing, he turned away, pushing thoughts of the woman from his mind.

  Eventually these pirates would have to let him go or kill him, and he was willing to bet it would be the former. Even renegades would risk only so much of Zarn's wrath. But he couldn't wait until Captain Sky decided to give him up. Where was Zarn? Did he know about the attack? What would happen when the Kalimar discovered that not only had his new prize been stolen but his son as well? A new apprehension seized him. Zarn could be following them at that moment, just waiting for the right opportunity to attack. He would find them, and Sky and her band of renegades would be taken to one of his infamous prison camps. The thought sent a slight shudder through him, and Eagle paced rapidly across the room and back.

  What was, wrong with him? Why did the thought of the silver-haired woman being subjected to the worst kind of torture in the universe make him feel sick inside? She'd asked for it and woman or not, she deserved it. You couldn't attack one of Zanl's stations and think you could just walk away from it. She'd known the risks when she attacked. So why had she done it? Wily was she even with this little band of rabble? What was the point? Were they part of the rebellion? He stopped pacing. Possibly. But the underground rebellion that had been growing over the past few years was a patient, well-organized lot. They didn't usually attack unless they knew they could win—and this was a no-win situation.

  There was a chance Zarn didn't know about the attack yet. If at all possible, Eagle wanted to avoid a big battle between Zarn's forces and Sky's people. Then there was the matter of Telles. He sank down on the bunk and leaned his head in his hands. Telles might no longer be on the right side, but he was still his friend. If Zarn came after them he had no doubt Telles would either be executed or spend the rest of his life in a prison cell.

  If I can get a message back to Station One, speak with my people, I'll know where I stand, he thought. And if Zarn doesn't already know about the attack, I'll convince Millon to keep it from him.

  Eagle thought it over. Maybe he could get Captain Spitfire to let him make a transmission under the guise of trying to get information. Or he could just find a com unit and make the call without her knowledge. Yes, he definitely liked that idea better.

  Galvanized into action, Eagle headed for the doorway. He had plenty of time before his dinner with the captain.

  He'd been given the run of the ship, as per their agreement. It still surprised him that she'd honored the deal and hadn't clapped him in irons as soon as he walked out of the cargo hold. Perhaps over dinner he could get a few more answers—like who these people really were and what they had to gain from the risks they were taking. Maybe he'd walk around a bit, get his bearings—find out where the auxiliary control panel was located. It would be a simple matter to send a message from there.

  All he had to do was acquaint himself with the ship. After all of his military and intelligence experience, he'd yet to meet a cruiser of this sort that he couldn't take apart blindfolded. He'd find the outgoing com unit or he'd find a way to break into it. Either way, the next step of his plan to escape would be implemented soon, he hoped before the captain had a chance to begin her main course. He smiled and, running one hand through his rumpled hair to give it a semblance of order, headed for the door to the cabin. It slid open and after a quick glance down the corridor, he slipped out.

  He wasn't so foolish as to think he wasn't being watched every minute by someone, or something, so he walked casually down the hallway, nodding at one or two crewmen he passed. They stared back at him suspiciously and didn't acknowledge his gesture.

  The ship was larger than he'd first thought, and as he walked he began to compare it with other ships he'd served on or fought. A Marovian 286 or a Titanar 3 would be his educated guess. He kept walking, noting that thus far he had not seen anything of real interest and concluded he must be on a deck used primarily to house the crew. If it was one of the two ships he thought it to be, he knew just where to find engineering and the bridge. He began looking for a lift. Once or twice he thought someone was behind him, and he glanced back over one shoulder. No one was there but that meant nothing. She was keeping an eye on him, of that he had no doubt. He wished there was some way he could give her a few dull gray hairs to mix in with that odd silver mane.

  He smiled. Maybe he couldn't take the risk of paying Captain Sky back in spades for what she'd tried to do to him, but while he was here, he'd certainly do his best to make her life a living hell.

  Chapter Four

  "This is insane."

  Sky shot her second in command a look that dared him to speak again, and he pressed his lips together tightly, obviously biting back the words he wanted to say. As the captain lifted her hands to the silver band around her brow, he shook his head and laid one pale blue hand on her arm.

  "Sky, I beg of you, don't do this."

  She lowered her hands and faced him, this time willing herself to smile. "It's all right, Kell. We've taken every precaution and your quarters are more secure than most."

  "But we've never tried this before." He released her and turned away, clasping his hands behind his back. "I've never wired anything like this before, and neither has Srad."

  "He's the best engineer in the quadrant," Sky replied, sitting down on Kell's bunk. "If anyone could rig up the old helmet deflector apparatus Redar first invented into the ship's internal shielding mechanism correctly, it's Srad."

  "I hope so, but there's no guarantee. I don't understand why you don't just torture the information out of the man and be done with it!"

  Sky lay back on the bunk, positioning herself for maximum comfort before she began the grand experiment, but something in Kell's voice caused her to turn her thoughts away from the event ahead of her and back to him. She frowned, aware that something was wrong, something she couldn't put her finger on. She raised up on her elbows and found the Altairian staring at her. She had changed out of her uniform into a semisheer caftan in her favorite color of teal-green, in order to flee her body as well as her mind. Sky realized belatedly that although Kell was her friend, he was, after all, still a man—a man who had feelings for her that she didn't return. Her flagrant flaunting of her body in front of him was inexcusable and thoughtless, but her robe was back in her quarters and once again she damned the man sleeping there for the trouble he'd caused her. She drew her feet up, arranging the folds of the caftan to conceal herself better.

  "Kell, are you all right?" she asked tentatively. "I've never seen you so agitated."

  "Agitated?"

  She watched as he stiffened, then turned away from her, his back ramrod straight. After a moment he turned back, the irritation she thought she'd seen etched in his features gone.

  "Not at all, Captain. I'm just concerned about you."

  Sky decided not to pursue the matter. "Mayla said not to hurt him and I must abide by my sister's wishes. I don't understand it either, but I have to honor her commands—she is the heir to the throne even if she is only twelve years old."

  "He'll never help us."

  One of Sky's brows rose in amusement as she wiggled her toes impatiently. "Of course he won't. That's why this is necessary. If I remove my shielding, it's possible Mayla will be able to reach me, telepathic ally, and lead us to her location."

  "You know the risks you take." To Sky's surprise, Kell sat down on the edge of the bunk and picked up her hand. "Forgive me, Sky, but I'm worried about you."

  She laughed uncomfortably and squeezed his hand before gently tugging away from him. "You shouldn't be. I have complete confidence in what you and Srad have done to prepare this for me. With the helmet's capabilities hooked into what usually generates the force field around your quarters, I should be able to remove my band with no ill effects. The shielding from the helmet will be spread out over a much larger area—a
room instead of my brain—and shouldn't be strong enough to hinder Mayla's thoughts. It should, however, keep out the rest of the universe. At least, I hope so."

  "You hope." Kell shook his head again, rising from the bunk. "I don't like it. The risks are too great."

  Sky locked her hands around her knees, searching for words with which to comfort her friend. She found none. "Sometimes risks are necessary, Kell. Now, please leave me."

  His eyes widened. "Leave you? Indeed not. What if the shielding doesn't hold? Don't you remember what happened the last time—"

  "Yes, I remember," she cut him off "But I must have complete privacy. Your thoughts alone could interfere, especially in the strange state of mind you seem to be in today! Please, I'll be fine, but if it will make you feel better, I'll stay within reach of the com." She summoned a smile again and forced it to her lips. Sometimes having a close friend could be suffocating—especially when it was a man who felt it his duty to protect her.

  "All right," he said, "but I want you to know I'm going along with this under protest."

  "Duly noted," Sky wearily acknowledged. "I will contact you later. Set the lock and alarm as you leave, please."

  "If I don't hear from you within an hour, I'll be back and I'll come in—whether you like it or not."

  Sky bristled, sliding from the bed to her feet in one smooth movement. She stood, hands on her hips, no longer amused at Kell's concern, no longer in the role of friend. Now she was the captain of the Defiant;, and in complete control of the situation.

  "Don't let our friendship fool you into thinking I'll let you cross the line too many times, Lieutenant. I'm still in charge here, and if you enter this cabin before I give my express permission, I will have you arrested and thrown into the brig. Is that understood?" Sky regretted the anger coloring her voice as Kell's fists clenched suddenly at his side. Altairians were very proud and it wasn't a good idea to yell at them too often. He was just worried, that was all, but she grew tired of his hovering and wanted to be left in peace. It was hard enough to face what she was about to do without his doubts adding to her own.