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Asarlai Wars 1: Warrior Wench

Page 3

by Marie Andreas


  “Not a problem. However, he will leave with you, yes?” The droid turned on a metal heel and quickly strode toward the depths of the casino where the private rooms were.

  Vas jogged to keep up with it.

  The droid’s sharp rap on the door lead to muffled swearing in two different languages. Which told her two things: they’d found Deven, and he wasn’t gambling for money.

  Her second-in-command had many appetites.

  She stepped around the droid and added her own pounding to the door. “Deven, it’s me. Get your ass out here.” She paused, and added, “Clothed. Get your clothed ass out here.” Better to be safe. He preferred stark naked.

  An increase in the swearing signaled his acknowledgment of her command. The door swung open and a curvaceous blonde stumbled out of the room, a dazed glow on her face. Obviously, Deven had been the one making the extra cash in this scenario.

  Her second-in-command was next through the doorway, looking as fresh as if he’d had time for an hour-long sonic shower before he dressed. Tall and exotic looking, Deven seemed to glow himself as he came out of the room. His standard issue flight suit looking like he’d had it personally tailored to fit his body like a glove. He’d always been good looking, but he seemed different now. She shivered. Maybe absence did make the heart grow fonder. However, it certainly wasn’t going to make her break her rule about getting involved with a member of her crew. Or a telepath.

  Deven’s sharp green eyes glinted with mild amusement at whatever he thought was going on in her head. Then he smiled and pulled his hair into a ponytail at his nape.

  She hated him for always looking perfect. No matter the situation, Deven stayed calm, clean, and relaxed. Somehow she was sure he did it to piss her off. Maybe that anger could chase off whatever other unhealthy feelings were going on in her head.

  “We’ve got a problem, a job, and a missing crew.” She didn’t wait for him to respond before she marched toward the casino floor.

  She didn’t hear his steps, but the powerful presence at her side told her he’d caught up.

  “You were supposed to be here two weeks ago.”

  “Yes.” A two-foot-tall Jerlian in a permanently wrinkled suit, sloshed synth-cohol on her boots as he tried to hug her knees. Had Skrankle not already managed to ruin said boots, she would have seen how far she could kick a Jerlian on a low-grav planet. Instead, she took two steps around him and moved toward the exit.

  “You didn’t call.”

  “No, I didn’t. My being late has nothing to do with you or our next job. Can we move it, please?” She didn’t want to discuss her recent travels, and certainly not in the middle of a casino. Nothing had happened. She was just late. There just wasn’t a reason to talk about it. She squashed the tiny voice that said she needed to talk about it.

  “Vas saying please? Now I know something is wrong.” Deven pulled up short before the casino exit.

  It would take a week to get off this rock if her entire crew decided to be this chatty about her private issues. “I don’t ask what you’re doing,” she said and held up a hand. “I don’t want to know. I’m not going to tell you what I was doing. We have a job and we have a ship. Do you want to earn some money on your feet for once or not?”

  “Ouch, got me.” The smile he flashed caused two nearby women to swoon as Vas and Deven left the casino.

  “Turn it down, damn it,” she hissed with a glance down at his bracelets. There were times he pulled a glamour that had to be esper powered, bracelets or no. He didn’t need it; he was freakishly good looking enough on his own. “I can’t have you jailed at this point.

  “Do you have any idea where—” She stopped mid-sentence as Deven suddenly turned toward a dark alley. With night vision far better than hers, she let him take the lead. He hadn’t gone for any of the dozen or so weapons she knew he had on him, so she relaxed, the tension fleeing down her arms.

  Deven moved toward the entrance of the alley.

  “That’s sad. I didn’t think he came back here.” His voice dropped while he flicked on a glow rod.

  Vas followed him in. The alley lived up to expectations: dingy, nasty, and smelling worse than a week-old dead Ilerian. She stayed at his side as Deven approached the tall man who sat in the wide beam of light from the glow rod, muttering to himself. Odd, but not as odd as his seat. He’d created a throne out of what had to be biscuits stolen from the nearby casinos and restaurants.

  Only Deven would be friends with someone who used baked goods as furniture. Vas kept her hands loose and waited to see how this would play out. The pathetic being before her didn’t look dangerous, but fatal mistakes often came from underestimations. Dozens of people had died at her hand for that very reason before her reputation caught up with her.

  “Who approaches? Who dares to interrupt Jeof, the God of Biscuits?” His slurred voice gave evidence to the alcoholic assistance he’d had getting to his current state. The way he leaned dangerously to the left reinforced that assessment.

  “I’m surprised this is the first time I’ve seen him, he’s usually in one of the main thoroughfares.” Deven lifted his right wrist to her face. “I can help him if you help me?”

  “No. You can’t keep taking those things off when you feel like it. Do you want to end up in jail again? Cause you’ll be alone this time, bucko. I’ll tell them you overpowered me and made me take them off. Within city limits. Which is illegal.” Vas hated Deven’s charitable streak. It was going to be the death of him one of these days. Or her.

  “Point one, you didn’t get me out of jail on Pallite, I got you out,” Deven said. “Point two, you never quibble about laws when it’s for your benefit. Point three, this guy used to be royalty. Maybe if you help him now he’ll repay you with unimagined riches.”

  She glanced at the loony behind Deven. Former royalty or not, he wasn’t the man he used to be. His hair seemed to be shaved down the middle and the remaining chunks stuck up like braided rat-tails. His clothing consisted of a collection of fabrics and posters stolen from various casinos. She wasn’t sure how it stayed on him and didn’t care just as long as it did. “I’m not going to address the other two issues. But if he’s royalty I’ll eat one of those biscuits.”

  Deven laughed. “Which will be a fine sight I’m sure.”

  She sighed and reached for his wrist. “I’ll code it off. But do it quickly. I have no idea how tight their sensors are, and I will turn you in if they get triggered.”

  He nodded, but didn’t say anything as she coded the bracelet off with a few keystrokes on the thin command bar. The metal itself started out as an inert gas, but settled into a metal outer skin once coded properly. The gas inside the metal shorted out all esper skills.

  Honestly, she had no idea what esper level Deven was. However, the highest of them, the tens, were all insane, so she knew he couldn’t be one of them. His goal was to drive her crazy, not go for a trip himself. The bracelets were coded to one person with the ability to deactivate them for specific purposes. The code consisted of not only the right keying in, but also the touch of her skin. And her skin had to be warm. She made a point of regularly reminding Deven that he’d best work on keeping her alive unless he wanted to be trapped in those things forever.

  He rubbed his wrist after she removed the bracelets and tucked them into her pocket. He seemed the same to her, but she knew any sensors would pick up his telepathic abilities in minutes. That was the major reason why she made it a policy to never take jobs on gambling planets. Too many damn sensors.

  Deven slowly approached the self-proclaimed God of Biscuits. His voice dropped to a tone one would use with a scared infant and he seemed to shrink in height. The tall, skeletal man before him peered at him with squinted eyes as he approached.

  “Hello, Jeof. How are you tonight? Do you remember me? We talked a few months ago.”

  Jeof frowned and pulled at one of the disintegrating baked goods. “It’s God of Biscuits; Jeof, God of Biscuits.” A pouty undertone
filled his voice now, but the influence of clearvac alcohol lingered. No doubt he’d stepped out on his drinking bender a few days ago.

  “It’s okay, Jeof, God of Biscuits. I’m a follower.”

  Vas felt the tendrils of Deven’s mental influence flow over Jeof. A faint low-level tickle floated in the back of her mind as if she’d forgotten something and it was just out of reach. Deven’s influence hit its target as true as any blaster. Within a few seconds, Jeof’s face took on a look of mild confusion as Deven’s mind encouraged him to rest.

  “But I need to speak to my people today. They told me to come here, give away the biscuits…there was someone I had to give a biscuit to….” Jeof’s voice trailed off as he plucked another molding biscuit from his throne. Vas’s stomach turned when she thought he was going to put the nasty thing in his mouth. Instead he turned his watery eyes toward her and shoved it into her hand. It happened so quickly she held it for a second before dropping it to the ground. With a shudder, she wiped her hands on her duster and took a judicious step backwards.

  “It’s all right, Jeof. You just need to rest for a few minutes.” Deven laid his hands on either side of the drunk man’s head. Jeof closed his eyes with a sigh. “When you wake up you’ll go find a hotel room. You have money near your heart. It’s enough to get you off this planet. Go to Chaslisten and speak to the healers. You want to be a farmer.”

  Deven’s left hand quickly darted into the man’s jumbled clothing, and then back to the side of his head. Vas knew he’d most likely just given Jeof all of the money he’d earned this last month. Jeof would probably be a happy farmer on the ag planet Chaslisten before the month ended.

  A shudder crept across her shoulders and a cold pit grew in her guts. She knew Deven had power but she’d never seen it wielded so subtly. Her hand slipped into her pocket and she fingered his esper bracelets. Things would be better when she got these back on him. While she trusted Deven with her life, she didn’t feel the same about trusting him with her mind. She would never trust an esper in her head again.

  Deven released Jeof and rejoined her. “We should go. It’d be best if he doesn’t see us when he wakes up.”

  She held out the bracelets with a raised eyebrow. Deven usually put them back on immediately.

  “All right, but let’s get out of sight.” He all but pushed her out of the alley and around the corner.

  “What’s wrong?” She hadn’t picked up on anything in the alley beyond the obvious smells of refuse and abandonment. However, something rattled Deven. That alone was a rare enough occurrence to have her fingers linger near the butt of her blaster and the hilt of her dagger.

  Deven held out his arm, wincing slightly when the metal clamped around his wrist and sealed in on itself. “I’m not sure. Something didn’t feel right about Jeof, something deep in his psyche. Whatever it is I didn’t want to disturb it. There were webs of mind treatments dropped over each other dating back at least a year. I think it would be better if he didn’t see us again.”

  Vas shrugged. She had no problem with avoiding the loon. The well-being of one clearvac junkie was of no concern of hers. Not to mention that no matter how much she rubbed she couldn’t get the prickly feeling of the moldy biscuit free of her hand. “Agreed. Let’s go make sure the rest of our crew is intact. You haven’t seen any of them recently have you?”

  Deven replaced the leather band over his esper bracelets. “No, but to be honest, I didn’t try.”

  Vas laughed as they made their way to the small part of town that welcomed the more salty spacers. The invisible grunt labor found in any community lived in shantytowns set a few miles out from the casino conglomerates. To pull in extra money, many of these small towns created zones for the crews of visiting starships to stay at. The casino workers got much needed extra funds, and the crews of ships had places to stay they could afford, and the casinos avoided having riff raff sleeping on their floors.

  He turned to her as they walked. “I think all of them are still in Expreia. They were talking about getting a group bunkhouse so they could all stay together cheaper. I sent out a comm-alert that you had sent out spy-cams to keep an eye on them after the first week you were late.”

  “When have I ever spied on my crew? I don’t want to know what they do most of the time.” Vas took a moment to enjoy the cool night air as she watched him.

  Deven smiled, his dimpled charm reminding her how he always came out of gambling houses ahead of the game. “No, but they don’t need to know that. Gosta said they were getting restless.”

  “God’s balls, you should have said that first off.” Vas picked up speed—there wasn’t time for a nice evening stroll anymore. Restless was never good with her crew.

  The muted lights of Expreia were coming into view when pain stabbed into her stomach. Vas grunted and doubled over as fire flooded her insides. It disappeared as quickly as it came.

  “What is it?” Deven took her arm, but she shook him off.

  A deep breath washed away the last vestiges of the attack. “I’ve no idea what happened, but I’m—” Her words ended in a scream when her insides burst into flame. She collapsed to the sand and grabbed her stomach. She felt like she’d been gutted by a beam weapon. Her fingers felt nothing, but the pain kept expanding. The tissues inside her body were being torn apart at the smallest level. Her screams filled the night.

  Deven grabbed her head in one hand and her hand in the other. “You have to get the bracelets off of me. Now.”

  She tried to focus on the gold and black figure before her, but the ripping inside her took too much energy. She couldn’t think. For only the second time in her life, terror froze her mind.

  “I.” Pain swallowed her world again. Blood slammed in her ears. “I can’t.” She tried to lock her jaw, but pain forced out another scream.

  Cool hands rubbed her own. Deven held her head cradled in his lap and rubbed both of her arms. “You’re dying. You only have minutes left. It has to be now.” The sharpness in his command made her reach for the bracelets without thinking.

  She fumbled with the metal bands, but her fingers couldn’t close on them. Fear, pain, and darkness swallowed her in a massive rush of wind and sand. He was right—she was dying. She knew the way dying felt; she’d been here before. But she had never wandered this far down the path. Wrong about one thing though, she didn’t have minutes left.

  She had far less.

  Chapter Three

  Deven swore and ripped the painful metal off his wrist. He wasn’t supposed to be able to take them off himself, and would be dropped in a deep pit somewhere if it were discovered that he could do so. But he didn’t have a choice. Vas was dying.

  Vas’s head lay in his lap, her breath rasping along the bottom of her lungs. He grasped both sides of her head and reached deep in his mind for his telepathic power. Gathering his strength, he mentally dove into her body. Poison flared around him, as red and violent as a discharge from a blaster, shredding her from the inside. New swear words were invented when he finally realized what the poison was. He hadn’t seen that class of poison since Vas’s great grandparents’ lifetime, and he had hoped to keep it that way.

  He could count the number of breaths Vas had left. He psychically grabbed hold of the poison and tried to drag it out of her. Instead of freeing her, the red of the poison flared brighter, tightening its hold on her heart. He dug deeper inside himself, pulling in reserves far beyond his normal ability. A new pounding echoed in his head—that of his own heart fighting to keep beating. He couldn’t keep working at this level much longer.

  He fought the darkness swallowing his mind, and pushed at the deadly poison one more time. He almost wept when it released her heart. Vas lost consciousness and an instant later the darkness claimed Deven as well.

  ***

  “So we found you two collapsed over each other in the desert. Next time you and the captain decide to go on a bender, you might want to stay where folks can find you. Just luck we picked up a sig
nal from the captain’s comm.” The voice was nearby and loud. Too loud.

  Vas groaned as the voices slammed into her skull like tiny little Arelian throwing darts. Why did every pore of her being feel like it had been blown apart and put back together by a blind man? More specifically, a one-armed blind man having a bad day?

  “Gosta? Report.” She didn’t need to open her eyes to know it had been her Navigation Command officer speaking.

  “Two hours ago, Fron and Hrrru picked up your comm signal and went to investigate. They found both of you out cold but with no marks. We carried the two of you here into Terel’s lab in the compound, set up cots, and tried to figure out what you’d done this time. Deven woke up a few minutes ago.” Gosta paused and his voice dropped. “He is very heavy to carry, Captain.”

  Vas chuckled at Gosta’s observation and winced when a ripple of pain shot through her body. “Ow. Don’t make me laugh. Any of you.” She cracked open an eye and peered up at Gosta’s gangly body. The small upper body of his Syngerin ancestors appeared precariously balanced on his almost human lower half. It left him appearing constantly leaning forward. Syngerins reminded Vas of very large walking stick insects, however, she was very careful never to let her opinion come out. Besides, she’d always been fond of bugs; they were the only kind of pets available on her home world.

  Shifting her glance to the man in the bed across the large room, Vas let a few swear words sputter silently. If she felt this bad, Deven should at least look winded. Instead he looked like he’d been lounging in a spa. God damn that man.

  “I only remember pain.” A chill took hold of her at the flash of memory that hit, but it didn’t fill in any of the gaps.

  Deven didn’t answer, but nodded toward the low-ranking officers lingering in the doorway. Whatever he had to say, he didn’t want it to go out to the rest of their crew.

  Vas motioned for Gosta to lean closer. “Clear the doorway and post a guard in the hall. You and Terel can stay.” Vas glanced past Gosta toward Terel. By the tiny lines that creased the medical officer’s forehead and the narrowing of her molten silver eyes, Terel would probably knock down anyone who tried to make her leave her patients’ sides. Having a best friend who was so protective was a good thing, but having ones’ doctor be that protective could be a bit much at times.

 

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