Yeah, they’d all heard about his run-in with Ella a few days back, one in which he’d somehow ended up on the losing end. Apart from one incident, he and the priestess had managed to avoid speaking directly to each other ever since, and he didn’t doubt the rest of the crew had noticed.
He’d been battle-and-blood high, beyond reasoning, the demon inside him riding the dark tide from the short but vicious fight to retake the Swift Brion from the Reidar. It’d been years since he’d waded through a skirmish like that, and he’d forgotten exactly how loud the blood lust roared. He’d been all ready to go ten rounds with a bottle of Violaine until he passed out in drunken oblivion, but damn Ella had found him.
He still had no idea what she’d thought to do for him in that moment, but he’d turned on her, coming so close to unleashing his dark urges. Tannin and Zahli had hurried in, trying to intervene, but apparently Ella hadn’t needed any help. She’d used her Arynian abilities and put one hell of a whammy on him. The memory of it could still make him shudder. Whatever power she wielded, he’d felt the full force of it in that moment—warm, seductive, and euphoric in a way nothing else had ever been in his existence. And it scared the living hell out of him. The fact that she could take him down so easily and in a way that would leave him begging for more—maybe the Reidar weren’t the ones mankind should be fearing most in this galaxy.
While Ella had always been unpredictable around him, in the past few days, she’d been somewhat reserved in her treatment of him, when before, it had seemed she’d appointed herself his minder and personal savior.
Maybe he’d finally succeeded in scaring her despite her claim otherwise. Especially since his mind had finally supplied him with a clear memory of his time with the Reidar—one where he’d been sent to kidnap her years earlier, except her touch, her powers, ended up being the catalyst that broke the aliens’ hold on him. One more gossamer thread to the growing ties between them.
An uneasy sensation roiled in his guts.
Guilt? No. He couldn’t remember what guilt felt like, and he had nothing to feel guilty over…if he were so inclined to waste his time on such a useless emotion. He’d warned Ella every moment since she’d come aboard to leave him alone, but she hadn’t heeded his words. Perhaps she finally viewed him as the surly, unhinged bastard the rest of his crew already knew him to be.
His attention caught on Lianna as something in her posture changed, tension in the line of her shoulders.
“Something wrong?”
“Not sure.” Lianna moved her hands over her console, bringing the information onto the main viewport of the bridge. It showed the asteroid field they were shadowing, which stretched through two entire systems, in case the trans-cops had tracked their exit off the quarry moon. Some might argue they were traveling suicidally close to the debris that could destroy an engine or punch a hole in their shields and hull at the right velocity, but Lianna was a genius at knowing the Imojenna’s parameters, what she could take and what she could do for them. The engineer and navigator was walking them right down the thin line between the asteroid field giving cover and leaving them to a fiery end.
At first, all he saw were rocks, chunks of ice, and space dust. The Imojenna’s sensors were picking out larger meteors and scanning them, then moving onto the next, one after the other at nanosecond speed.
“What are you looking for?” He leaned forward in his chair and braced an elbow against his console.
“Initial scans picked up an anomaly in the asteroid field. Something that wasn’t an asteroid. I’m trying to find it to see what it is.”
Someone lying in wait for them—had the trans-cops laid some kind of ambush? Or maybe a ship full of marauders waiting on an easy mark? But anyone who flew a ship deeper into the asteroid field had to know they’d more likely explode than fly out again.
“Think we’ve still got company?” He shoved his hair back then gulped the last of his coffee.
Lianna shook her head, attention focused between her console and the viewport. “That was my first assumption, but I scanned for heat and life signatures first and got nothing.”
His suspicions eased a fraction. So maybe it was just a hollow chunk of rock or abandoned shipping crate. Probably nothing they needed to waste their time finding. Every minute they spent traveling through the IPC central systems, they were at risk.
“If there’s no reason to suspect someone’s waiting to intercept, let’s keep going. I want this business on Kalaheo Two taken care of ASAP.”
“Okay, but just give me one more—” She straightened, her fingers tapping the console to stop the sensors. “There.”
The Imojenna’s viewport stopped flashing through the scans and zoomed in on a hulking form jutting off the side of a midsized meteor. The lines and edges were too clean-cut and smooth to be rock or ice, yet the shape was dark and indefinable in the shadow of the meteor. A scroll of text dropped down the side of the viewport showing a composite materials list.
“It’s a ship.” Saying that aloud was probably redundant, since Lianna would no doubt be able to work that out on her own from the information.
“A dead ship.” Lianna accessed the composite list, highlighting and scrolling through the contents, her expression thoughtful.
Though few and far between, dead ships weren’t that unusual. However, in most cases they were literally floating skeletons, salvagers and marauders having stripped them of anything even remotely useful. This was showing to be fully functional and airtight. There could be a lot of useful stuff onboard, but a heavy feeling had parked itself in his gut, one of deep foreboding. He always got antsy traveling through the IPC central systems, but with the added threat of them being wanted intergalactic terrorists and the brush with the trans-cops, the skulking sensation of being in immediate danger was riding him harder than usual.
Lianna swiveled in her chair to face him. “We should send someone over to check it out.”
He arched a brow at her. “Usually I’m the one making a suicidal suggestion and you’re the one giving me the look that says you think I’m being a moron with a death wish again.”
Lianna’s expression creased with a faint trace of indignance. “I would never give you that kind of look. You’re probably mistaking it for my he’s-going-to-get-us-all-killed expression.”
He cut her a glare that probably landed somewhere toward exasperated. “We don’t have time to play explorers.”
“We all know what we’re risking by flying to Barasa to search for Tannin’s friend, but any supplies we find on this ship means one fewer stop we have to make down the track.”
He wanted to argue against the too-frecking-sensible logic, but she was right. The fewer stops they had to make on any worlds or stations before they got back to the Barbary Belt, the smaller their chances of getting caught.
He blew out a short breath, the beads on his left wrist clinking against the crystal display of his console. “Fine. We’ll go take a look. But if we get over there and it’s a bust, we’re coming straight back. I’m not going to spend the next two hours here while Callan rummages through the bowels of the ship looking for weapons or you crawling under the consoles pulling out microcrystal components.”
Her lips quirked in a not-quite smile as she turned back to her console. “Yes sir, Captain. I’ll prep the portside skimmer shuttle.”
Chapter Seven
She should have been reading those files she’d downloaded from Rian’s office, or even tidying up the remaining mess in her medbay, but Kira hadn’t done anything since Rian and Callan left, apart from stare at the commando and watch the readings on the screen above his bed.
There was something about him, some anomaly her gut told her existed, but her logical, medical mind had no answer for…not yet anyway. The readings from the ship’s R and R unit were mostly normal, with the occasional irregularity that could be written off as interference or momentary miscalculation as the patient’s vitals changed. But she took note of every one, pieces
of a puzzle she didn’t have the full picture of yet.
The penetration of Callan’s knife into the dead center of Varean’s chest should have killed him. It would have killed anyone else almost immediately. But he’d survived and, according to the ship’s diagnostic computer, he was in recovery mode. Rapid recovery. Way out of the normal human body’s response in terms of improvement.
And then there was that moment before he’d passed out, when he’d had his hand against her cheek. At first, nothing but the warmth of his palm, the slight callouses on his fingers had registered, and the sensation of it had struck her much deeper than it had any right to.
Medicine was all about logic and science, though she’d always relied on her instincts as much as cold hard facts. And she didn’t doubt herself now.
She’d felt a power emanating from him. A warm, rippling vibration that’d brushed beneath her skin as surely as an ocean breeze on a hundred-degree day. Not only that, but his eyes—
She had no logical explanation for his eyes. The blue had nearly faded out to be replaced by a mercury-silver color, swirling and bright sure as the volatile element had bloomed in the irises. She’d never seen anything like it in all her years of being a doctor. And while she couldn’t remember reading any accounts of such a thing, something tugged at the back of her mind, like she should know what his mercurial eyes meant.
Besides the fact that she hated to see any vulnerable person mistreated—not that Varean could exactly be described as vulnerable—the growing mystery of him had her hooked.
The doctor and scientist in her wanted to find the answers of him, while strangely, the woman in her, the part of herself she’d let lay dormant for too long, was undeniably and inappropriately interested in him for completely different reasons. Some indefinable quality about Varean struck a chord. Maybe seeing what Zahli had found with Tannin had awoken some spark within her, and it was basic human instinct to not want to be alone.
But obviously that side of her was completely irrational. She couldn’t have found a more unsuitable interest. Apart from the fact that the man was practically their prisoner and understandably unimpressed with all of them, he wouldn’t be sticking around once Rian got his answers. Maybe that was why she’d noticed him as more than just a patient—he was totally unobtainable, and she didn’t need to worry about things getting complicated.
Satisfied at her conclusion, she pushed the introspection aside and picked up her commpad containing the Reidar files, determined to find some clues that would help her work out the answers to Varean. But just as she tapped the screen, her comm trilled, ID showing either Lianna or Rian were calling from the bridge. Great. Rian was probably already wanting to know if the commando was awake. Her finger hovered over the screen. Just how pissed would he be if she pretended she hadn’t heard her comm?
The idea was tempting, but not worth it. With a short sigh, she tapped the connect button, only to be unceremoniously summoned to the bridge with no niceties or explanation. At least some things on the ship never changed, no matter what latest crazy was getting splattered all over the bulkheads.
…
Rian finished checking his weapons—more out of habit than expectation he’d need to use them—as his sister stepped onto the bridge, followed by Kira.
“What’s going on?” Zahli asked, glancing from him to where Callan was similarly kitted up, ready to head out.
Lianna gestured to the main viewport. “We found a dead ship in the asteroid field. We’re taking a skimmer and going to check it out for supplies.”
Rian thrust his pulse pistol back into the holster on his weapons belt. “Zahli, I need you to take the bridge while we’re over there. Kira, you’re coming with us to sweep the ship’s medbay. If you find any supplies, take as much as you need or want.”
Zahli moved to sit at Lianna’s console, while Callan and Lianna headed off the bridge, Kira following reluctantly. Probably didn’t want to leave her patient. He didn’t like the way she’d gotten so protective of him, so attached and defensive. Once he got his answers and got the damned commando off his ship, they’d need to have words about her actions.
With one last glance at Zahli, he brought up the rear to trail the others down the short flight of stairs to the upper corridor of the ship. One side held the galley and communal area, while the opposite side was entirely taken up by the captain’s quarters—his cabin, sitting room, and office. At the far end of the passageway, just beyond where the stairs dropped off, were two other sets of upper stairs that were so steep, they might as well be ladders. Each led to one of two skimmer shuttles on top of the ship. They didn’t use the skimmers very often, mostly reserved for emergency escapes or traveling between ships in zero atmosphere when there was no docking option, like they were doing now.
Rian waited while the rest of them climbed up into the portside skimmer, coming aboard last and pulling the hatch shut. The skimmer was a fairly good size for its type. At the front were two seats before a single viewport and two consoles to fly the ship. Directly behind were two rows of double seats to sit eight other people, and in the back were ten fold-down, narrow bunks on the bulkheads for what doubled as the cargo space. The only flaw was they couldn’t fill the cargo bay and fold down the bunks at the same time.
He and Lianna took the seats behind the consoles, firing up the shuttle as Kira settled in the seat behind him, quickly pulling on her harness. Callan slouched down in a seat in the opposite row behind Lianna, a huge nucleon gun across his knees.
“What exactly do you think you’ll need to shoot with a gun that big on a dead ship?” Kira asked. “You’ll just as likely punch a hole in the hull with that cannon.”
He shrugged one shoulder. “I like to be prepared. Especially for zombies.”
“Zombies? Really?” Kira’s voice was heavy on the exasperated disbelief. “Sure, if zombies were real, I’d want to walk around with a gun that big, too.”
Rian glanced over his shoulder. “Callan has a dire fear of zombies.”
Callan pointed at him with the metium knife he was holding in his other hand. “Hey, you’re the one who introduced me to the world of frecking shape-shifting aliens. Far as I’m concerned, it’s only a matter of time before some witless frecking twat discovers Planet Living Dead and starts the zombie apocalypse.”
“And you figure the bigger your gun and the more weapons you’ve got, the safer you’ll be?” Kira asked.
The guy did have a pretty impressive arsenal strapped and holstered.
Callan gave a single nod. “I plan to be the last man standing.”
“And when the universe is repopulated from your sterling gene pool, mankind will be saved,” Lianna interjected, not taking her attention from the console as she guided the skimmer away from its mooring locks.
He sent Lianna a suggestive smirk, though she wasn’t looking. “Stick with me, McKenzie, and I’ll repopulate with you any time you want.”
“How can any woman resist such a romantic proposal?” Kira asked, grinning as Lianna made a face.
He could make as many suggestive remarks as he wanted, because there was no substance to them. For a start, Callan and Lianna definitely weren’t interested in each other, and secondly, Rian had strict rules about his crew and fraternization. They’d all seen the results of that when he’d kicked his own sister off the ship after finding out about her and Tannin. The only reason he’d eventually accepted their relationship was because of the danger to Zahli being offship, since the Reidar could grab her to get to him. And after Zahli and Tannin had gotten engaged and fully committed to each other, he had no choice.
He sure as hell wouldn’t tolerate his crew having any type of casual relations. That caused too many problems and tension.
The shuttle rumbled as Lianna slowed to navigate the asteroid field. Going in with the skimmer was a much smaller risk than an entire ship. Still, the mood among his crew abruptly sobered as they got deeper into the asteroid field. Lianna carefully guided the ski
mmer along a projected path that could change in the blink of an eye as rocks and ice drifted—or in some cases streaked—through the other debris. He rode point, double-checking her trajectory and using the illegally mounted nucleon guns to blast anything that got too close.
There were a few edgy moments when the engines sucked in chunks of ice, or rocks big enough to take them out sliced past too close for comfort, but they made it to the dark ship, which sat on a flat section of a large meteor as though someone had parked it there.
That heavy feeling that’d landed in his guts when they’d first seen the ship on the viewport turned into an arctic churning. Something burgeoned in the depths of his mind, pushing against the fortifications where he kept all that bad shite from his past buried and locked down. He didn’t know what it was about this ship, but there was definitely something hitting all his nerve endings.
Lianna backed up the skimmer to the ship’s hatch, and it vacuum sealed and equalized the pressure. He grabbed in a quick breath then got up and pulled out several full-face masks. He handed them around, but as he went to put his on, his hands quaked. Goddamn it. He tightened his grip on the mask, locking his muscles to force them under control. But his body simply kept up the rebellion; the tremors stopped, except a cold sweat broke out on his lower back.
For half a wild second, he wished Ella had come along. Last time he’d faced his nightmares, walking into an abandoned Reidar lab and fighting not to lose his shite, she’d used her Arynian abilities and stolen away the panic.
Though she’d done it without his permission, and he’d been pissed about her butting into his private hell, even having her stand beside him now would have made this more bearable. Jezus. He’d been doing fine before Ella came along, and he’d be fine after she decided to sashay right back out of his existence.
He damn well didn’t need her or anyone else.
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