by Zara Zenia
"Best news I've heard in days." I climbed to my feet, my blood pumping. If there was a battle to be had, I didn't intend to spend it sitting on my ass. A warrior fought on his feet, even in a war ship. "Show me."
The view screen blinked, switching to a square of empty space at the far side of the sector. The bulky craft ambled along at a slow pace. The markings on the side labeled it as a ship of our merchant fleet.
"False alarm," my second said, slipping back into his seat.
"No, Sir. A Tabor vessel just appeared."
Yes! I crossed over to the crewman, looking over his shoulder at the sensor console. Not that I understood a damn word of it. Sword and blood were my work, not technology. But the Primen couldn't trust anyone else to take my place. "Where?"
"On the other side of the second moon," the crewman said.
An image of an oblong silver vessel appeared on the console. Black scorch marks were on its outer hull. Compared to the lumbering transport, the cruiser was built for speed. To hit fast and hard before the enemy had any hope of counterattack. The twin canons mounted on its underside could reduce every building on our planet to rubble in a single shot.
"The weapon complement?" I asked.
The crewman looked down at his console. "Other than the main canons, a burst laser on the nose and a full complement of ion torpedoes."
My heart sank as I looked at the floating monster on the screen. One of them could destroy one of our cities. A fleet of them could end our entire planet. All I could think of was Ella. My Ella, alone in the talajut of my family manse, waiting for my return.
"A cruiser that powerful in our space is an act of war," I mumbled more to myself than anything. Every man in the command center understood the gravity of the situation. They had blood of their own on the other side of the moon, some of them 'Jan and children.
"It's on an intercept course with the transport, Sir."
"The Tabor Syndicate would never act so brazenly," my second said. "Nobody would challenge our Primen."
If it's war, Zarbonov van Xarran, our people must be prepared. A surprise attack could devastate us.
I kept my eyes on the view screen and said nothing. A Tabor with a ship like that had nothing to fear from a single Xiban, no matter his status. "What dock of origin is it broadcasting?"
"None, sir."
"Even a smuggler would broadcast a dock of origin," my second said, scowling at the view screen.
Not if they were after something of value. "Signal the transport discretely. Find out what their payload is."
My second-in-command walked over to me while the crewman followed my instructions. "You think they've been looking for something specific?"
"Can you think of a better reason they would attack this ship but leave the others be?"
"The captain says they carry humans, Sir. Bound for the auction houses."
“Slavers.” My second spat on the floor again. This time, I was too busy with my own thoughts to be annoyed.
Again, my mind went to Ella. Not the woman she was the night I left her, but the woman she was the night we met. Blessed with a spirit whose fires she could not stoke. The servant responsible for Ella's mistreatment had paid dearly for her failure.
She was still paying for it. Her personal atonement to Ella was the price Carzon offered to secure my help. That alone told me how serious the situation really was, though the Primen had been vague.
There could have been dozens of Ellas on that transport. Hundreds. The Tabor weren't like we Xiba. Nobody on Wolfban would face punishment over a ship full of human slaves.
"Fire on the cruiser. I want its shields down and its weapons disabled. Now!" My hand moved to my father's sword on my hip. My fingers itched to feel the weight of its hilt in my hands. To watch the Tabors’ green blood spill over the blade so they would know what happened to those who threatened my people.
A bolt of bright yellow light streaked across the screen. It flashed and disappeared as it hit the side of the cruiser.
"No response, Sir."
"Again!" Another bolt followed. And another, until the main guns of the Tabor cruiser were nothing but rubble. "Leave the ship intact. The Primen will have questions for the slavers."
Such as how they knew a shipment of humans was arriving today but we didn't.
The engines of the cruiser sparked and flared for a second, consuming the entire ship in a brief inferno. When it disappeared, only chunks of debris were left.
My second-in-command looked at me and shrugged. "It appears the Tabor preferred to take their answers with them to the void."
I balled my hands into fists and took a deep breath. Neither did anything to calm my rage. Any other time, I would have loved to sink my knuckles into his meaty face. But a thought took hold of me, one I could not shake.
Only a Xiban could have known the manifest of that transport.
“I must speak with the Primen,” I said, striding back to my chair. “Signal the transport to proceed to the docks as scheduled. Then set a course for V’dal.”
Carzon needed to know that his suspicions were right, and I needed to get back to my mate’s arms.
Chapter Nineteen
Ella
Our transport pulled up to the auction house at midday. Ingendia climbed out of her side and shuffled over to the curb to help me out. I pushed her grasping hands away when the door slid open and climbed to my feet.
"Quit treating me like a baby," I said as I brushed past her. "I told you I'm fine."
"Your color looks off and your spirit is dull. If that is fine, I would hate to see you sick."
I rolled my eyes and grumbled to myself. "Of course, my color looks off to you. It's not blue. Stop fussing over me. We're late as it is."
"We should delay the lesson for today," she said. "Come back tomorrow."
"I'm not going home, Ingendia," I said as I stepped into the auction house. "Come with me quietly or stay behind."
Mirna, the woman I used to call Blue 3, stood in the hallway. Life had been kind to her since I left the auction house, as evidenced by the fine silver and onyx bracelets around her wrists. My hunch about the power struggle that played out backstage during my auction was dead on. When the smoke cleared, Mirna was the head servant in Carzon's auction house, and the human women held inside its walls were better off for it.
She bowed her head to me. "It's good to see you, Ella jan Zarbonov. I worried when I heard you took ill."
I waved a dismissive hand. "Ingendia worries about me too much. I'm perfectly fine."
Ingendia scrunched her lips together, a sure sign that she wanted to argue but was too close to insubordination to press her luck.
After Zarbonov left for his mission, Ingendia finally stopped calling me her mistress. She still behaved like my maid, which came in handy sometimes. Like when I needed her to get off my back before she triggered another headache.
They had been coming more and more each day since Zarbonov left. I didn't have them all the time, but when the blistering pain slammed into me, all I could do was sit down and hope it passed. When the pain was at its worst, Ingendia passed me bowls of warm janlt to soothe the pain.
The heavy exhaustion that came after the headaches was harder to cope with. The day before, a wave of fatigue came over me that was so intense I couldn't get out of bed to dress. Now that I was moving again, I had a standing appointment to keep, and I didn't mean to be late.
It took me two days to convince Ingendia to let me return to Carzon's. Even when she agreed, she insisted that she be at my side at all times. The servants there were too crafty, she said, and couldn't be trusted. But every day, when the time came to get in the transport and cross the sea, Ingendia fought me. If I let her talk me into going home, she'd never let me come back.
She and I walked down the hall behind Mirna as she led us to the Room, Ingendia scowling at the back of the other Xiban woman's head the entire time. The Room wasn't such an awful place under Mirna's reign. She’d added
more furniture to the room. Enough beds for each woman to have a place if they doubled up and extra cushions and lounge chairs for anyone still left without a spot to sleep. Thanks to better food and more regular bathing, the women in the room didn't look like they were being starved to death in a dungeon anymore.
But that didn't make them trust the Xiban any more. My arrival hadn't done much to help either.
Most of the women in the Room kept their eyes down toward their hands or the floor. Of the few who did look up as we walked in, most narrowed their eyes at me in suspicion.
In their position, I might have done the same. For all they knew, the bags under my eyes were a side effect of the brainwashing poison Ingendia slipped into my food every night. That would explain why I wore the aliens’ clothes and spoke their language.
Beth, the woman I used to call Red, glanced up at me, then blinked in surprise. She hopped off her bed and ran over to me, throwing her arms around my neck.
"You're back!" She craned her neck to the side. "Hey, guys, Ella's back! When you didn't come by yesterday, we thought something awful had happened to you."
"Pfft, look at her," someone said. "Something awful was a few stops ago."
"You didn't think I'd miss two lessons in a row, did you?" I ruffled her hair. "I'm fine, Beth, and I told you nobody keeps me locked up when I'm not here. I was just feeling a little run-down."
A little run-down was an understatement. I could have curled up on the floor of the Room and shut my eyes, never to wake up. But if Beth and the others thought the Xiba had hurt me, the fragile connection I was working to build between them would be lost.
"Mirna said there will be another sitting tonight," Beth whispered. There was still fear in her voice, but the lack of tears was progress at least.
I put a hand on her shoulder and smiled. "It'll be fine. Remember, nobody comes here looking for a kitchen slave. They come here looking for their mate. Their partner."
Beth wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "You keep saying that, but I think you just got lucky."
She moved to the far end of the room, where the handful of women who agreed to be my students had gathered. Since there was a sitting that afternoon, I taught the class phrases to help them get through the dressing process.
When class ended an hour later, Beth didn't move back to the main group with the other women.
"What about if someone . . . you know . . .?" Beth asked, hugging her knees. "What if the one that buys you is an asshole?"
I reached for her hand, patting it gently. "The man who bought me wasn't. The man who buys you might not be."
"Will you come back tomorrow?"
"My 'ja—husband may be home tomorrow, but if not, I'll try." I wanted to say yes, but I could already feel the exhaustion creeping over me.
Ingendia was at my side before I could take more than four steps toward the door. She took my arm, using her height and strength to keep me upright as she led me through the door. "We should have cancelled."
Mirna's brow furrowed as she looked me up and down. "Are you all right, Ella jan Zarbonov?"
I shook my head and tried to steady myself without Ingendia's help, only to list to the side and nearly topple over. No, I wasn't all right. I'd been alone for days while my mate was off doing who knew what and possibly getting himself killed in the process.
I needed Zarbonov home. Badly. But a Xiban warrior’s wife would never admit so much to a stranger.
"I just . . . I think I'm more tired than I thought," I said, leaning against Ingendia again. "Is there somewhere I could lie down? Just for a minute?"
Mirna nodded and gestured toward another hallway. It looked vaguely familiar to me, but it wasn't until Mirna stopped at a door that I realized why.
Blood red carpet and teal cushions. A breathtaking view of the Bay of V'dal. The waters of the bay were teal, not black like they had been that night. The hot Xiba sun beat down on the surface, casting a yellow glow over the teal.
"No one will use this room until tonight," Mirna said. "It will be quiet and peaceful until then."
Ingendia led me over to the cushions and eased me down. She sat down beside me as I stretched out, taking my hand in hers. "I will stay with her."
Her tone didn't leave room for argument. Mirna must have agreed, judging by how she left without comment even though she outranked Ingendia in the auction house.
"He will be home soon," Ingendia whispered when the door shut again.
I closed my eyes to keep the tears at bay. It didn't work. "Not soon enough."
Chapter Twenty
Zarbonov
The Swadak touched down at the main dock just before sunset. Even though I watched the slaver ship blast itself into nothingness, I kept the ship in stealth mode and kept outgoing communications clamped. In the few hours it took the Swadak to return to Xiba, only one message was sent to the surface.
Will report directly. Sent from me to the Primen. I left my second-in-command in charge of disembarking procedures and climbed into the transport the Primen sent. When the transport pulled up to the curb at the auction house, I knew the rogue slaver ship had alarmed Carzon more than he’d let on. The Primen's assigned offices would have been more appropriate for a mission breakdown, but those walls had too many ears.
Carzon kept his demeanor casual when I stepped into his office, smiling as he poured two bowls of honey wine. "I didn’t expect this mission to take you so long, Zarbonov. Was there trouble?"
I waved a hand to refuse the wine. He shrugged and gestured for me to continue as he brought his bowl to his lips.
"The reports were accurate," I said. "The ship was of Tabor-make, but unregistered."
The Primen quirked an eyebrow. "Twin main canons is too much firepower for upstart smugglers."
"They weren't common smugglers. The ship moved to intercept one of our transport. It was carrying human cargo."
Carzon sighed and drained his bowl of wine. "I hoped to keep the Tabor from interfering with the mating trade for another few years, at least."
"If they have a fleet of ships like the cruiser I saw, we can't win a space battle."
The Primen stayed quiet, a sure sign that he had arrived at the same conclusion. A war over the mating trade would put the existence of both civilizations at risk, and neither of us could be sure our people would win.
"Sir, we have to consider the possibility that one of our own provided the slavers with information."
I wrapped my language in uncertainty to make the information easier for Carzon to swallow. In truth, with each minute, I grew more convinced that someone on Xiban had to be communicating with the Tabor.
The Primen blinked in surprise. "There is a lot of objection to the mating trade. But a true Xiban wouldn't betray their own kind over a grudge. Not to a race as ruthless as the Tabor. That's as likely to get them killed as make them rich."
"Making money isn't my field. Battle is," I said, reaching for the bowl at last and draining half of it before I continued. "If I had a state of the art cruiser, I wouldn't send it off to get lost like a youth in the desert. I would only send it somewhere I needed it to be."
Carzon folded his arms across his chest. "What happened troubles you?"
"An enemy ship was just a few hours’ travel from my home. It had enough weapons in its arsenal to destroy that transport, the Swadak, and half of V'Dal before we could scramble a defense. Knowledge like that troubles me."
He stroked his chin for a second as if to consider my conviction. He had no reason to put faith in me. I was a warrior of wealth and status, yes, but covert operations had never been my field. All I had was a feeling. A feeling deep in my bones that if we didn't take measures against it now, everything I loved would be destroyed.
"Then you should be the one to prepare us." Carzon took the bowl from my hands and filled it again. "Shore up our defenses. Assemble whatever team and resources you need. Do it however you feel is best, short of starting a war."
The Prime
n held one full bowl of wine and the other out to me.
"This was a job offer?" I asked.
"Call it an evaluation," he said. "One you earned with your performance the night of your sitting."
I took the bowl, rolling my thumb against the smooth side. "I silenced two warriors and chose my mate. How would either earn me a job?"
"Ah, but you're forgetting the most important part of that evening. I've spent my life earning my position. Thousands of decisions, made perfectly and in seconds, got me here . . . and you found a solution faster than I did."
"A solution that cost me several hundred thousand credits more than it would have if I'd kept my mouth shut."
"Was she worth it?"
A smile tugged at the corners of my lips, a faint taste of Ella on my tongue. "Worth every credit and more."
"Silencing two sniveling warriors is no great feat. I didn't become Primen by letting useful weapons escape my arsenal. I would have evaluated you earlier, but I remember what the first few cycles of breaking in a human can be like.
I snorted before I could stop myself.
The door to the office chimed. One of Carzon's servants entered without waiting for a response. She held up her hands in defense before her master could scold her.
"Apologies, Kai'ben," she said, bowing her head. "One of the others saw Zarbonov vin Xarran come here, and I thought I should speak to him about his mate."
"What about her?" My blood turned to ice in my veins. Had something happened to Ella? No, Ingendia would have gotten a message to me. She would have found a way.
"She's here, Kai'ben. In the mating chambers."
I turned to Carzon and glared at him. Hot lava blasted through the chill, leaving my muscles trembling under the force and weight of my rage. "Why. Is. My. Mate. Here?"
The Primen held up his hands, but he didn't bother to hide his grin. "It's completely innocent, I swear. Your mate came here a few days ago, asking to give language lessons to my stock."