by T. S. Ryder
"Thank you for rescuing us," Erica said. "Although my distress call may have been premature. I believe my… husband fixed the oxygen recyclers just before you picked us up. It's good to have some fresh air, though."
"It is my pleasure," the Trioeil said. "Come. I'm afraid this is a research vessel and doesn't have much in the way of refreshments, but I'm sure we can find something."
"We'd love to," Erica said before Ronan could say they were fine and wanted to be on their way. He scowled as they followed the Trioeil to a nearby kitchenette. Now that they were here, it was imperative to keep up the ruse. Getting blown out of the sky as soon as they were in his vessel again was not an option.
"Human and T'shav newlyweds, eh?" the Trioeil said, squinting her three watery eyes. "I didn't think T'shav did the whole marriage thing."
"I did," Ronan said. "It's what Erica wanted."
"Seems like that's what all you humans like. How you can cuddle up with something as hard as a rock and twice as dumb I don't know."
Ronan growled softly. He wished he had the traditional broadsword his people used. It was a great weapon for intimidation, and would probably silence these inane remarks. But he had given up all T'shav traditions long ago, when his father died, and these days he relied solely on blasters. A poor substitute, but there was no going back after the things he had done.
The Trioeil was openly appraising Erica now. "You have a pretty human here, T'shav. Are you willing to sell her?"
Ronan looked down at the human pressed against him. Her gaze met his, her eyes wide, her hands trembling. There were plenty of reasons why he should. He cared too much about her already. He spent most of this mission’s commission on buying her and was going to use up quite a few resources rescuing her cousin.
But the thought of Erica in the Trioeil's hands made him want to kill somebody. He shook his head. "I'd sooner kill you than sell her."
Erica's eyes widened. Her lips parted slightly, and Ronan was tempted to kiss her, Trioeil or no Trioeil.
The three-eyed alien sighed, bringing his attention back to her. "I was afraid that you'd actually love her. Oh, well. As my mother always says, the only good T'shav is—"
Ronan drew his blaster before the Trioeil could finish. The bolt hit her right in her center eye. She was dead before her corpse even hit the ground. Erica screamed, but Ronan whirled, firing on the three aliens that had just come through the door with their weapons drawn. He ignored his human's cries of shock as he gunned them down.
With one arm he grabbed Erica and slung her over his shoulder. There was no way that these people were taking Erica away from him. He raced back to the portube, keeping an ear out for enemies.
"In," Ronan ordered, gesturing towards the portube.
He followed Erica in, going backward to ward off any attackers. They were just reaching the other side when a couple of Dibats appeared at the Ruizers' end. They fired rapidly. Ronan fired back, roaring with bloodlust.
Erica screamed.
Ronan turned, his heart in his throat. A bolt shot by Erica's ear and he leaped forward, enfolding her in his arms. He spun her around so that he was between the blaster fire and her. Sudden pain lanced through his back. It radiated up his arms and down his legs. He couldn’t breathe. The smell of burning flesh–his burning flesh–filled the room. His gaze focused on Erica's eyes, wide and frightened. Somehow he found the strength to turn once more and put two bolts in the approaching Dibats.
And then darkness overwhelmed him and he collapsed to the floor.
Chapter Five: Erica
"No!" Erica clutched Ronan's massive body as he sagged against her.
His eyes rolled wildly in his skull. Their bodies were pressed so closely together that she could feel his heart beating, wildly, desperately, as though it knew about his injury and was trying to keep him alive by redoubling its efforts. The two Dibat guards were running forward now, grins on their faces.
Erica grabbed Ronan's blaster as he fell, letting off a few rounds as she jumped to the airlock controls. She sealed the ship up before she ran for the flight controls. Her heart thumped wildly, and every fiber of her being wanted to run back to Ronan. If he didn't get medical attention, and fast, then he wasn't going to make it.
But if the Ruizers got into the ship, neither of them were going to make it.
Erica winced as the screech of the portube ripping from the hull echoed in the small space. The comm lit up with a hails, but Erica ignored them. She sped away from the Ruizers Corporation ship. The scanners showed the bigger ship coming around, pursuing their vessel. She threw all power to the engines.
The Ruizers ship grew larger for a brief second before just blinking out. Erica's heart stopped. They had stealth technology? Was that what Ronan was after? But stealth wasn't that uncommon, just highly regulated… so where had the Ruizers gone?
But moments later, the lights flickered and the artificial gravity lurched briefly, and Erica knew what had really happened. The Ruizers ship had blown up. She killed the engines, rerouting the energy back to the internal systems. What had happened? Was there another ship–or had that been Ronan's mission? To blow them up?
At that moment, she didn't care. The Ruizers had tried to steal her, and Ronan had protected her. For a moment she sat trembling, gulping in deep breaths. What if he had died saving her?
Only one way to know.
The paramedic ran back to her T'shav's side, relieved to see he was breathing, although she didn't like the faint orange color his skin was taking on. She rolled him into the recovery position and retrieved all the medical equipment Ronan had onboard. Her pounding heart calmed, and her breathing evened out.
This was familiar to her. This was what she knew. Right now Ronan wasn't the infuriating T'shav that she hated being so drawn to. He was a patient, and he needed a calm head taking care of him. He needed someone like her, who could put emotions aside and do what she had to do to save his life.
The wound was a small blast, dangerously close to his heart. The bolt seemed to have hit an odd bony plate in his back, though. It probably had saved his life. Erica had never worked on a T'shav before, but all the alien species were descended from humans, and so their biology was similar enough that she knew what to do in this case. Her hands were steady as she cut away the crispy, burnt flesh, then applied Fleshseal to encourage regeneration.
After that, there was nothing to do but wait. She tried to lift him and carry him to the bed, but he was too heavy. Instead, she covered him up where he lay. After that, she went through the shelves, hoping to find something that might speed up his recovery. At the very top, where she never would be able to reach without him noticing while they were on the ship, was the box of drugs he always used. Erica climbed up and retrieved it. Maybe there was some sort of enhancer inside.
Instead, she found multiple bottles of the enzyme perijan, along with dozens of needles in sterile packages, and a hand-written set of instructions addressed to her.
Erica, if you are reading this, it means I am unable to give myself these injections, and I am reliant on you. I have Cilaze, a disease that requires me to have regular injections of perijan to regulate my hormonal secretions. Follow these instructions or I will die.
The human stared at the page in shock. He could die? Why hadn't he told her that he had some crazy disease when she thought he was taking drugs? The page crumpled in her hands. Was he too proud to admit he had Cilaze? It was a disease that affected a significant portion of the population, there was nothing shameful about it!
Were all T'shav this proud, or was it just this idiot? Growling, Erica scanned him. His perijan levels were dangerously low. She quickly prepped and injected the enzyme. Tears blurred her vision when she was done. There was nothing left to do but set course for the nearest planet and then sit next to Ronan, waiting for him to wake up. She stroked his face gently.
Please wake up. Please.
***
It was several days before Ronan regained cons
ciousness, but he was in no shape to talk. Erica helped him to the bed, removed the old Fleshseal and applied a new layer. Then she gave him some painkillers that would also help him sleep. Rest was the most important thing he could have now. They didn't have a regenerator, and without one, he seemed to heal very slowly.
She landed them on the closest planet without incident, and for another week Erica tended to the T'shav while also gathering supplies. Thankfully, he was out of the danger zone now. As soon as he was better they were going after Bethy, after all, and she wanted to make sure nothing would delay them.
She would never admit that part of the reason why she kept busy was that every time she stopped to think about what might have happened, she couldn’t breathe. He could have easily died. She hardly knew him, and she didn't like him–at least, she knew she shouldn’t. But their verbal sparring kept her on her toes, and she had to admit it. She cared. A lot. And he had nearly died for her.
Finally, Ronan had healed enough that there was no more need for fresh Fleshseal. His own muscle and skin regenerated enough to prevent further damage. He also took charge of injecting himself with perijan again.
"I told you to stay in bed," Erica told him one day when she came back from a shopping trip to find him in the cockpit, plotting a new course.
"I don't take orders."
"What's the use of having a medical advisor if you're just going to ignore me?" Erica put her purchases on the shelf. "You need more time to heal."
"If we're going to get your cousin, we need to go now. I thought you'd be more concerned for her than me."
"I am, but that doesn't mean I'm not concerned about you." Erica put her hand on his shoulder. She could feel his muscles relax under her touch. "Back to bed."
"Only if you come with me."
Erica's jaw dropped. She felt a tightening in her lower stomach but tried to ignore it. "You're wounded, you're in no shape for sex."
Ronan turned, shaking his head. "A T'shav could have his leg cut off and have sex the next day. I want you, Erica. I have from the start, and I know you want me. Can you deny it?"
"I could, but I don't want to. You saved me. I mean, I was only in that position because of you—"
Guilt flashed over his features.
Erica gently cupped his face with her hands. "But you nearly died protecting me. So no, I'm not going to deny that I want you. But you're still recovering. Besides, I'm not going to beg for your touch."
"I changed my mind about that. For now, at least. As much as I'd love to see you on your knees, I'm willing to break first this time. Like you said, I put you in danger. For that, all I can say is I'm sorry." Ronan paused a moment, then pushed himself to his feet. He grasped her shoulders and shook his head. "I shouldn't care about you. I should have just sold you to those Ruizers. But all of a sudden I… I…"
He brought his mouth to hers, hot and hungry. Erica was shocked but quickly kissed back. She clung to his body, exploring the contours of his muscles with her fingers. Heat flooded her body. Desire, heady passion. His wound was almost completely healed… as long as they kept things somewhat tame it wouldn't hurt.
When she pulled back to look into Ronan's eyes, she saw that the almost-indistinguishable pupils of his black eyes were dilated. She stroked his cheek. "I guess I can forgo you begging me for my touch this time, too."
Ronan's dimple flashed as he grinned. "You'll beg first. But that'll be for another time… when we have some rope."
"Rope?" Erica pulled away and lightly smacked his chest. "I should have known you'd be into that BSDM stuff. Well, I'm not going to let you tie me up. Unless I can tie you up, too."
Her eyes widened. Holy crow! Did she really just say that? She felt her cheeks warming. Ronan, however, only laughed and tugged her even closer. He pressed another kiss to her that had her skin sizzling. He tugged the skirt of the crumpled red dress up over her hips, cupping her ass with his giant hands.
Ronan squeezed and broke the kiss. "I've never been tied before. Maybe I'll enjoy it."
"Okay," Erica gasped breathlessly. Her head spun and she grinned up at her T'shav mercenary. "So bed?"
"Nope." The dimple deepened. "Hands and knees, right here."
Erica's core tightened at the mental image and she couldn't stop herself from groaning. Ronan caught her face and kissed her again.
A full twenty piece orchestra went off. Erica melted against her warrior, then slid down his body, pressing kisses to his bare torso. She was rewarded by a deep throaty groan, which clashed like symbols in her brain. It was the single most arousing thing she had ever heard. When she was on her knees, Ronan dropped beside her. His eyes were dilated, a look of excitement and lust on his face. Erica's chest heaved, so giddy with anticipation that she could hardly breathe.
Ronan spun her around so her back was to him. The dress was yanked back up to her hips. With one hand the T'shav pinned Erica against his body. His other slipped between her legs, eagerly finding its target. He zeroed in on it, making the human writhe in his arms. A low chuckle and he pressed firm kisses on her neck and shoulder.
But when she reached behind herself to help him along, he shook his head and caught both of her wrists in his free hand. The message was clear. He was in control, and at this point in time, she was glad to give it to him.
Just when she was on the brink of begging, Ronan stopped. Erica moaned in protest. He chuckled again, his hands moving to her shoulders. His gentle pressure encouraged her to bend over and rest on her hands and knees, skirt bunched up over her waist. Erica twisted to watch him as he braced one hand against her hip and readied himself with the other. Her eyes grew darker, her already pounding heart picking up the pace yet again.
He didn't remove his clothing, just shifting it aside so he could enter. Erica threw her head back, arching her back like a cat as he took her. He started a hard, fast tempo at once, her whole body jerking back and forth with the strength of his movement. She tried to match his rhythm but his hands were tight on her hips, keeping her in place. Pleasure more intense than anything she had ever experienced flooded her and she gave up trying to give it back, concentrating all her energy on keeping herself on her hands and knees.
Everything was tight inside when one of Ronan's hands wrapped into her hair. He didn't pull, although Erica found that she wouldn't have minded. Instead, it was just there, a finger or two occasionally stroking the back of her neck. The tenderness of his touch undid her. With a scream, everything came undone. Her body shook and writhed before she collapsed, Ronan following her down.
She heard him chuckle, then felt him stiffen. He moved harder and then it was like every muscle in his body went slack. His heaviness weighed down on her, hand still tangled in her hair. Erica gasped, her eyes closed.
Eventually, Ronan rolled off her. Erica pushed herself to an elbow, grinning when she saw a lazy smile on his face. Without a word, she rested her head against his shoulder. Her body felt utterly relaxed, and as Ronan stroked her hair, she felt herself drifting off.
"I hope you didn't rip open your wound again, you wild animal," she said.
"If I did you can patch me up again."
Erica smirked. "If I have to do that, you'll have to pay me back."
"Always." Ronan kissed the top of her head. "Always."
Chapter Six: Ronan
Ronan tapped his fingers on the console as he read the information one of his contacts had sent him. After nearly two standard months, he finally had firm information on where Bethy Chase was. It wasn't encouraging. They'd have to go further away from the core worlds than he had ever before.
He had made a promise to Erica, though. He wasn't going to give up on her cousin just because it was going to be difficult. They were too invested in each other now. And not just because they were sharing the bed. Ronan simply couldn't imagine his life without her.
The comm unit flashed silently, indicating an incoming call. Ronan glanced over his shoulder. Erica was still sleeping, twisted in the blank
ets, her hair adorably mussed. He closed the doors to the cockpit and answered the call.
Dyme Lirreb, CEO of the Planchet Corporation, appeared on the screen. He was a Rlabek. The Rlabek were toad-like creatures with warty, slimy skin, wide mouths and bluish tongues. They were known for being extraordinarily stupid, which Lirreb had used to his favor, being an outlier among his kind. He was smarter than most aliens in the United Species and had quickly risen to power through it.
Today, Ronan considered him one of the most dangerous men in the galaxy. He had power, he had the United Species backing him up. Only warlords with massive fleets of their own, like the T'shav Zon or his son Tom, stood a chance against a CEO like him.
"Mr. Lirreb," Ronan greeted, keeping his face expressionless.
"Ronan. I hire you to get me information and you destroy it?" The man's toady face was yellow with anger.
"Which I informed you was a possibility when you hired me. The upfront payment was to ensure that if you could not have the information, then nobody could. The second payment was for delivery. Obviously, that is not going to happen. Yes, you don't have what you wanted, but you must remember that neither do the Ruizers."
"Not good enough. I want my money back."
"I don't do returns. I was very clear about what to expect, I never guaranteed that you would receive your information. If you want, I can give you a discount on further services."
Lirreb leaned forward, his bulging eyes narrowing. "Why would I hire the imbecilic moron that lost my information in the first place?"
"I'm also good at assassinations."
Ronan ended the communication and set the comm to reject calls. His skin crawled, but there was nothing to be done about it now. If the idiot didn't read the terms and conditions before signing, it wasn't his fault. Lirreb would just have to deal with it. Although perhaps giving the man a small refund, when he could afford it, would be wise. Either that or just kill him.
He opened the cockpit doors to find Erica stumbling out of bed, slipping on her red dress. He grinned at her, earning a sleepy smile back. She yawned and rubbed her eyes as she joined him in the cockpit. Ronan put Lirreb from his mind. He was with a beautiful woman, why worry about what might happen?