by Ashley Ladd
Unintentionally, she glanced down at the codpiece covering his goods. The tingling between her legs grew so unbearable she almost came at the thought of the weapon that lay behind it, announcing loudly that she didn’t find her ostensible rescuer so abysmal, even if she found the idea of being forced to trade sex for safe passage deplorable. She wouldn’t have to remain with the pirate long, would she? A few dayseps at most, ‘til they were safely out of this unwelcoming quadrant of the galaxy. Still, her fiancé wouldn’t be pleased if she gave herself to another man under any circumstance.
So she wouldn’t share all the details concerning this grievous episode with Dennis. A warrior, she would do what was necessary to survive. A few henseps into space, she would ditch Caid and his attorneys before she had to pay her fare. Decided and determined to live, she nodded in agreement since the weblinthium bars made a handshake impossible. “Deal.”
A gigantic bear-like creature with matted lime green fur and saucer-like eyes appeared before their cells and began conversing with the pirate. The only clothing he wore was a low-slung weapon belt that held several tasers and phaton cannons.
Holy moly! Was this animal Caid’s attorney? Where were the rest of his attorneys? Their lone rescuer wedged explosive sticks against the weblinthium field of their cells, then lit it and scuttled to the far end of the corridor and covered his head with his huge arms.
“Take cover, sweetheart. There’s going to be quite a blast.” Caid sprinted to the far end of his cell and ducked under his bed.
She was already busily tipping over her cot and dragged the mattress around her shoulders where she huddled against the farthest corner of her chamber, her back to the explosion. She tucked her head between her knees and wrapped her arms over her head. Sticking her fingers in her ears, she tensed for the explosion, hoping the entire wall didn’t collapse on her. At least it would save the pain of a hanging. If they didn’t hurry, she’d have company on the hanging block.
A seismic blast threw her forward into the wall. Her ears vibrated, ringing loudly. Rocks pelted her through the mattress, stinging her back, and punishing her ribs.
Strong arms scooped her up and she was lifted high in the air. Groggy from the explosion, she thrashed her arms and legs until she saw it was Caid’s accomplice.
“You’d be wise not to piss off your saviors. Shelliks have extremely tender feelings.” Caid held an explosive stick in one hand, a taser in the other, as he led the way. The other prisoners screamed for mercy, but Caid just snarled and crept past them.
“I can walk.” Siobhan tugged on the Shellik’s arm. Any time now troopers would storm the ward, and she’d rather be on her feet wielding a weapon. If only she had a taser.
Caid shook his head almost imperceptibly and then his gaze darted to and fro as he kept his back to the wall. He exchanged glances with the Shellik and then glowered at her, waving the taser in the air. “Stop the chatter or none of us’ll escape…alive.”
She spied the guard crumpled on the floor, his elliptical orange eyes rolled back in his reptilian head, his chest still. Now she understood why he hadn’t prevented their escape. “You did this?”
The Shellik howled and thumped his chest in triumph. He grinned, showing rows of jagged teeth.
“I warned you not to piss him off.” Caid looked around the bombed out wall. “The coast is still clear. That worries me. It worry you, Vizzy?”
“Vizzy?” The name was too fuzzy for the ferocious-looking beast. Wolfgang, perhaps Killer, would have fit the brute, but Vizzy?
Vizzy nodded, slanting her a glance that warned her not to make light of his name. Mewling, he withdrew his glowing taser from his belt. He peeked around the corner, too, and then sniffed.
“It must be a trap.” This was too easy, despite a couple of downed guards.
“You think?” Plucking the guard’s taser from his holster, Caid attached it to his own belt.
Seething, she wanted to throttle the superior expression right off Caid’s roguish face. Counting the seconds until he would deliver her to Dennis, she was anxious for the time she’d never have to look upon his mocking expression again. Would these mercenaries abandon her when more guards arrived? No weapon equaled zero protection.
To Vizzy, Caid asked “You smell anything?”
Vizzy moaned and nodded to the right side of the corridor. He thrust his hairy thumb in the same direction.
“Guards! Guards! They’re escaping! Stop them!” Squealing and squawking, the Pretadorn jumped up and down. Curses spewed from her mouth, damning them to all five levels of her hell.
“Shut up, for heaven’s sake.”
“Take me with you and I’ll hold my tongue.” All three nostrils flared and her eye bulged out.
Caid shot her with his taser and she crumpled to the grech-infested floor.
“That’ll shut her up. I merely gave her a sleeping cocktail. She’ll awaken in a few hours, after we’re long gone.” Caid squinted into the dim corridor. “I hope you can run fast. Vizzy’ll lead. You follow him. I’ll bring up the rear. Stay low.”
“Anytime now, Denny,” she muttered under her breath as she followed the Shellik. The cavalry should have been here dayseps ago.
Shots rang out behind her, whizzing past her ear. “Stay down!” Caid yelled, his footsteps rifling out behind her.
Guards shrieked in fury as walls crashed around them. “Torliad’s dead. We can’t permit her escape. If she does, it’ll be our necks in the hangman’s noose.”
“Run, don’t crawl.” Caid grabbed her arm, his fingers biting into her flesh unmercifully, and dragged her forward. He twisted around, aiming his taser over his shoulder and blasting the enemy as he sprinted around the corner.
She jerked her arm away from Caid’s steely grip, and knocked his weapon to the floor. She grimaced at the mottled, sickly yellowish-green fingerprints he left behind on her flesh. The taser skittered, twirling around before banging into the wall and discharging in their direction. The wall directly behind them tumbled down, missing them by scant centimeters.
“What’d you do that for? You trying to get us all killed?”
Vizzy bayed, running back toward them, fire flashing in his eyes. His gaze narrowed on the debris, and then he aimed at the ceiling and brought it down, creating a barrier between them and their enemies.
“Good thinking, Viz. That should hold them for at least a couple henseps.” Caid turned back to her. “No thanks to you. Either you obey all my orders or the deal’s off.”
“But…” She rubbed her arm that felt bruised and numb to the bone.
“All of them, sweetheart. I’m in command of this operation. My word is law. If you can’t take orders, feel free to stay behind.”
Siobhan fumed but kept her mouth shut. Any time, Dennis! They reached Caid’s ship without further incident.
But it wouldn’t start, and Caid kicked the helm, letting out a colorful stream of curses. “Of all times to have core trouble! You were charged with maintaining this.” He glared at the Shellik.
Vizzy mewed, hung his head, and shuffled his feet. Linking his hands behind his back, he veiled his gaze.
Caid started throwing weapons and personal effects into a duffel bag as he exited the crippled vessel. “Guess we’ll have to borrow another ship.”
“You borrow a lot, don’t you?” Siobhan followed on his heels, looking over her shoulder expecting to see troopers any second. For once, borrowing seemed like the sane course of action. He needed to borrow a little faster, before they were disintegrated.
“Pirate, comprendez? Remember our deal?” Caid’s nostrils flared and his neck grew red as his face contorted.
The threat, as well as the fact that she had no Plan B, shut her up. To herself she mumbled, “I pray you have a clue what you’re doing.”
“I heard that,” the pirate said between gritted teeth. “And I can fly anything in this galaxy or the next.”
“If you can’t, I can.” She had a lot of prowess pilo
ting any vessel of her acquaintance.
Caid glared at her. “I’ll do the flying, thank you.”
Another reminder that he didn’t trust her.
Vizzy growled, his head cocked to the side, his paws balled on his chunky hips. He tsk-tsked and shook his fuzzy head.
“Don’t remind me, Vizzy.” Caid threw his bag into their getaway ship.
Remind him of what? She listened intently to their banter, storing it for future reference.
Pounding footsteps shook the deck. Shouted orders mixed with the sound of enemy fire strafing them. She shoved Caid out of the way, ducked, and rolled. The harsh asphalt scraped her exposed flesh, pebbles imbedding in her hands and face. Something sliced her cheek and a sharp cry of pain burst from her lips.
“Stop the gymnastics and get in the ship, Mallory!” Strong hands dug under her armpits and hoisted her to her feet. An ironclad arm encircled her waist and hauled her beside a large body. “I’m going to have my head examined soon as we ditch our new friends.”
Vizzy sat at the helm, visible through the bridge window.
The engine roared to life, the exhaust hitting her in the face. Siobhan coughed, choking, as Caid lifted her into the ship and slammed the door behind them. Every muscle and tendon ached and her cheek blazed like a star going nova.
Vizzy took off before the door even closed all the way, bowling them to the floor, hurtling her against Caid who hit his head against a bulkhead. Caid’s chest provided a pillow for her head as she slammed back against him, as his arms came around her.
“You okay?” Caid’s voice was far gentler than she expected, and her foggy brain registered surprise.
Her fingers fluttered to her cheek encountering ragged, sticky flesh. Blood? Gingerly, she felt around a bit more, even as she struggled to remain conscious. But her lids were so very heavy, and she was so groggy, she was losing the battle. “I’ll…live.” But from the feel of her wounds, she might be irreparably scarred if she didn’t receive treatment soon.
Caid helped her to her feet and removed her hand from her face. “Here, let me see that.” His face moved in so that his breath tickled her neck and made her squirm. When he tried to touch her injury, she jerked back, anticipating flaring pain.
“I’m not going to hurt you. That’s a nasty slice you’ve got. It needs disinfecting and sewing up. I’m not a doctor but I don’t think it can wait.”
Right now, she could use some of Caid’s earlier charm. His bedside manner wasn’t the best. She needed to hear she’d be okay, not his dire diagnosis. “I want Jeremiah,” she said on a ragged whisper.
Caid frowned, not privy to the inner workings of her mind.
Explosions rocked the ship. The vessel pitched, throwing her into Caid’s arms again. Vizzy howled, casting a desperate look to Caid as he made the ship zigzag to avoid phaton blasts.
“I know, Vizrael. I know. Our friends are back.” Caid grimaced, stroking his beard. “You were supposed to bring the brethren. Where are they?”
Vizzy glanced over his shoulder with a scowl and roared in his alien tongue.
“They’re engaging the Grawkings in battle in the Gamma Quadrant? How’d you manage to slip through?”
Vizzy scrunched his pug nose and went into a long explanation to which Caid just glowered.
He tossed a regret-filled look at Siobhan. “The rest of our crew has been unavoidably detained. Surgery’ll have to wait or you won’t have a face left to fix.”
She nodded, feeling impotent as Caid sprinted for the phaton controls. She dragged herself after him with much difficulty, dizzy but determined to help, trying to control the throbbing pain playing havoc with her senses. Since he was short on crew, she offered to pitch in. After all, her neck was on the line as well. “I know tactical maneuvers. Let me.”
Caid didn’t glance up and jerked his thumb to another set of controls. “Man that weapons bank. You take care of all ships on our flank and port. I’ll handle the others.”
“Aye.” She had to keep herself together long enough to escape their pursuers. It was all she could do to focus on the console and stand upright.
When five ships bore down on them, criss-crossing their paths to avoid their missiles, she inhaled deeply, vexed. Her reflexes dulled from her impairment, Caid picked the attackers off easily as if they stood still, before she could get a lock on the first one. If left to her, they’d most likely have not survived this attack. Although she cursed her own brief inability, admiration for his marksmanship swelled in her and she nodded her approval at his prowess. “Pretty tidy, Kincaid.”
“I’m a man of many talents.” A wicked twinkle lit his jade eyes, transforming his haggard expression to that of a little boy who’d just won his first space kick game.
Her scanner bleeped, alerting her to a previously undetected ship zeroing in on them. A wily one, it dodged here and there, avoiding her targeting scanners. Her fingers danced over the controls trying to get a fix on him. Her panel beeped incessantly at her to fire when she locked on the target. With a feeling of relief and victory, she sent the phaton fire down his throat and watched with satisfaction as the glowing missile struck its target. When he exploded in a fireball and shot across space like a shooting star, she leaped to her feet in victory. “Yes!”
Immediately, excruciating pain slashed her cheek and she fell to her knees, moaning.
Caid knelt beside her, and put his arm around her shoulders. “Let’s see to you now.” To Vizzy, he commanded, “Find the closest safe port so we can trade this ship in for something less conspicuous. Avoid turbulence.”
“I need to contact my fiancé, let him know I’m okay.” She let Caid guide her to the medicinal kit where she sat down and put herself into his hands, not that she had the strength to object. What little she had was quickly evaporating.
“You mean someone willingly puts up with your guff?” Caid’s lips crooked up on one side letting her know he was teasing. At least partially. “Grit your teeth and don’t move. This is going to sting.” Caid bent over her and swabbed her cheek with antiseptic.
But it was next to impossible for her to remain motionless when it felt like the phaton blast had imploded every cell in her injured cheek. It hurt like nine levels of hell. She yelped and bit her inner lip to hold in screams of pain. Starship captains never cried. She was damned if she’d be the first in recorded history. Especially not in front of a pirate.
Caid threaded a needle and sterilized it. Waving it in front of her face, he spoke to her gently and soothingly like he would to a child, “It’s a deep jagged cut that needs sewing up. If you jerk around, I’m liable to put this through your eye. Comprendez? Now sit still.”
Like she had a choice? She’d much prefer to have her own ship’s doctor, but all she had was this pirate. At least he was willing to try to help her, so she should be grateful. She prayed he had a steady hand and a stout heart. Her own eyes told her the rip had to be repaired now before the skin shrank. The last thing she wanted was a moon-sized crater in her face. But how could she hold still if it hurt so horribly? “Do you have anything to anesthetize the area?”
“Let me see.” He searched the bag, and then lifted his head. “No anesthesia in here. But…” He crossed the bridge to his bag and extracted an amber flask of whiskey. “This may do the trick. It’s worth a try.”
She eyed the bottle of murky amber liquid skeptically. Surely they could do better in the twenty-fifth century than relying on alcohol? How she longed for civilization. She’d been out in this remote quadrant of the galaxy too long. After she straightened out this mess, she was taking a long vacation on Earth’s sandy beaches. “If you’re sure that’s all we have.”
He held up his arms and looked around. “This is a shuttle, not a completely stocked spaceship. We don’t even have a synthesizer.”
He pulled the cork out of the bottle, swirled it, squeezed one eye shut, and peered inside. “I was saving this for a special occasion…”
She should fee
l honored that he’d sacrifice it for her. She accepted the bottle and took a long, hearty swig. As the liquid burned a path down her throat then flamed in her stomach like a fireball, she bucked. It would have been easier if he’d just knocked her out. Suddenly dizzier, her vision blurrier, she swayed, vaguely aware that Caid and Vizzy watched her with rapt expressions.
“How many fingers am I holding up?” Caid thrust four floating fingers in front of her face. She was suddenly fascinated by the ebony hairs curling softly on the back of his hand. To her amazement, his spotlessly clean nails were neatly trimmed. Even the cuticles were buffed.
“Four.” She grabbed his hand and traced his long lifeline, smiling. “You have a very beautiful, intriguing hand. You’ll be pleased to know you aren’t going to die today.”
He snatched his hand back and handed the bottle back. “Drink up. You’re much too lucid.”
She stuck out her bottom lip and hiccoughed. Embarrassed, she put her hand over her mouth and giggled. “I don’t like that stuff. I can’t liquor my hold.”
“You’re doing fine,” he purred, all three of his heads smiling at her. The consoles behind him swam about the room, and the view screen wavered like the ocean.
She held out the bottle to him. “Don’t antiso-social so be. Have a little drinkie with…” hiccough, “…me.” She tried to flutter her lashes up at him, to convince him she wasn’t the termagant he seemed to think, but they were too heavy to move. “I don’t have any germs, and if I did, this would surely kill them.”
“I’m sure it would at 150 proof.” He pushed the bottle back at her. “I’ll pass this time, unless you want your face to look like a jigsaw puzzle.”
She frowned, batting him away from her with her hand. “But it’s your special bottle.” When he stood firm, glowering down at her, she sighed. “You’re no fun.”
She hated to drink alone. It was so pathetic. Surely someone would join her. She turned to the giant lime-colored bear. “Come join me, Vizzy. Surely a big guy like you can hold your liquor.”
Vizzy smiled shyly and shook his head. He held his huge paw flat out and mewled.