Forbidden Planet

by Cheree Alsop

  “Interesting,” the man said when he looked at the screen she handed back.

  A warning bell sounded in her mind. “What’s interesting?”

  “Another ship has landed for the same supplies to the same system. They’re being loaded as we speak.”

  Two emotions pushed at Nova at the same time. Panic and anger warred within her chest. If she didn’t get what they came for, they would never have an in to rescue McKy. Everything depended on her crew loading those supplies onto the SevenWolf.

  She focused on the anger. “Where is the captain of that ship?” she demanded.

  The man took a step back in surprise. He pointed up the stairs that led deeper into the Trayshan. “Inside. In the bar. He’s a Lacertian named Kittridge.”

  Nova stormed past him. She heard the footsteps of her crew as they followed close behind, but she didn’t look back. She had no doubt that Junquit, Guinea, Gardsworn, and his cousin Hawshorn followed along with Kovak. She had tried to maintain a level head in this entire ordeal, but she was through being pushed around by Lady Winden, Lord Baccus, Lord Briofe and Parliament back on Evia, and everyone else who doubted her, including the dark-eyed Smiren who stepped up to walk silently at her side.

  His doubt in her plan bothered her most of all, mainly because she shouldn’t care what he thought but she did, and secondly because he wasn’t afraid to tell her that going to a Trayshan and then Akrul was a stupid idea. Of course it was! But it was the only way she would get her brother back. Why couldn’t he just trust her?

  The knowledge that she didn’t deserve his trust made her even more angry. Her hands clenched into fists as she followed the noise of hundreds of voices into the heart of the Trayshan ship. She would show them all what a Cadonian could do when angry. She was done being nice, sweet, and underestimated on purpose. It was time others took her seriously.

  She stormed past the trading decks with barely a glance at the levels upon levels of merchants hawking their wares. Ships from all over the ‘Verse docked at the Trayshans. Every race imaginable bartered in as many languages. She wondered if she should have brought a translator. The thought hadn’t occurred to her when she stormed off the SevenWolf.

  A woman in a Trayshan suit caught her attention. Nova reached her side and asked, “Where’s the bar?”

  “Which one?” the woman replied with a hint of exasperation in her voice. “This Trayshan alone has twenty-seven. Each caters to its own specific clientele.”

  Hopelessness pressed at the edge of Nova mind, then she remembered, “Lacertian. The man I’m looking for is a Lacertian.”

  The woman nodded. “Then you’ll want the next level down, the Flea Fetish.”

  Nova thanked her and led the way down the stairs.

  “Nice name for a bar,” Gardsworn noted.

  The place looked as seedy and dank as she had expected. It was definitely no place for a Lady or anyone with easily-tarnished sensibilities. She was glad Jashu Blu had stayed back with Kaj. The Quarian was too young to drink and she didn’t want him to see the darker side of the ‘Verse if she could help it. The young man’s disappointment had been palpable when Kaj had asked him to stay to get a few things done the older man couldn’t with his leg. Nova was grateful for the Verian’s foresight.

  “I can go in and—”

  Nova cut off Kovak’s words by shoving through the door. Heads barely lifted at their entrance. She glared into the dim light, seeing easily through the smoke and haze with her Cadonian eyesight. Several tables were filled with men and women playing Starbridge. Others held a single occupant or two. Her eyes landed on a scale-skinned Lacertian drinking with a handful of mix-matched individuals who could have been his crew.

  “My Lady, I don’t think this is a good idea,” Gardsworn began.

  “You mean Captain,” Kovak said in an undertone. “A Lady would have a price on her head here.”

  A shiver went through Nova. She shoved her fear aside and shouted, “Kittridge!”

  Everyone turned to stare at them.

  The man at the table looked her up and down before rising to his feet. He towered at least two feet over her and his long tail lashed from side to side with agitation at being interrupted from his drinking.

  His tongue snaked out across his scaled nose before he asked, “What can I do for you, miss?”

  She should probably have thought it through instead of coming in hot, but she wouldn’t go back now. “You’re stealing the supplies I’m supposed to deliver,” she said.

  A gasp escaped from Junquit. Several of the crew at the Lacertian’s table rose to their feet.

  Nova ignored them and kept her gaze on Kittridge.

  A slow smile lifted his scaled lips. “I’m stealing your supplies, am I? And what supplies are those?”

  “The supplies destined for the Nefastus System; specifically, for Akrul.”

  The man’s lizard lips fell. He regarded her with unblinking eyes. “And what is a girl like you doing running supplies to the Forbidden Planets?”

  “I have my reasons,” she replied levelly.

  His eyes narrowed. “I’ve paid a lot for those supplies.”

  She held his gaze. “Then you’ve been ripped off because they’re already paid for.”

  The man’s mouth opened, showing rows of tiny, pointed teeth. He glanced back at his crew. “We’ve already taken the consignment,” he said. “There’s no going back.”

  “I’m prepared to pay the bounty,” Nova said. “You won’t go home empty-handed.”

  “It’s not about the bounty, is it?” Kittridge replied. “One goes to the Forbidden Planets for something other than marks. There are far more lucrative runs out there for a Rabbit.” His eyes bored into hers. “Are you even really Rabbits?”

  “Are you?” she replied.

  He bared his teeth. “I’ve been running supplies for longer than you’ve been breathing, Catty,” he said, insulting her race, “and I’m not about to stand here and explain myself to some little girl on a power trip.” His yellow eyes glinted. “What are you doing on a Trayshan? Are you even old enough to be in this bar? I think I should teach you a lesson on respecting your elders.”

  He took a step forward and lifted one sharp-clawed hand. Nova threw up her arm to stop the blow, but the Lacertian’s arm was caught halfway down.

  “Try that again and you’ll lose your eyes,” Kovak growled in a quiet voice that thrummed with threat.

  Kittridge glared past Nova and then his face blanched. He ripped his arm free of Kovak’s grasp. “I know you.”

  Kovak crossed his arms, his stance protective as he placed himself between Nova and the Lacertian.

  Kittridge’s eyes widened. “You’re Imperious Kovak Sunder!”

  “The gladiator?” someone near the back of the bar asked.

  The Lacertian nodded. “It’s you, isn’t it?”

  “It was,” Kovak replied calmly.

  Kittridge’s excited expression turned into a glower. “I lost a whole lot of marks on your last fight.”

  Kovak’s rascal smile touched his lips when he asked, “Did you bet against me?”

  The Lacertian’s expression gave his answer.

  Kovak grinned. “Well, that was your problem.”

  Silence fell over the bar. Nova felt the thrum of tension through her body. She knew the entire place could erupt with one wrong word. She hoped Kovak knew what he was doing.

  An answering smile finally spread across Kittridge’s face. “It’s an honor.” He held out a hand.

  Kovak shook it. When he went to let go, the Lacertian held on. His claws gripped tight enough into the Smiren’s skin that the marks showed white.

  “I’ve always wanted to fight a gladiator.”

  Kovak stilled. His expression didn’t change, but Nova could feel the deadly tension that pulsed from him. He glanced at Nova and then the rest of the crew before he turned back to Kittridge.

  “Now’s your chance.”

  “I don’t th
ink so,” Nova protested.

  Kovak kept his gaze on the Lacertian. “Let’s make it interesting. If I win, we leave with the supplies.”

  “And if I win?” Kittridge pressed.

  The gladiator’s voice was calm when he said, “I die and they leave with the supplies.” When the Lacertian opened his mouth to protest, Kovak said, “But, you get the notoriety of having beaten an Imperious. Imagine how that will look. Your reputation will spread all over the ‘Verse.”

  Kittridge’s eyes glittered at the thought. He looked over his shoulder at his crew. Mixed expressions showed on their faces. It seemed to fuel his decision.

  “Fine,” he agreed. He raised his voice and barked, “Sphinx, move the supplies to this woman’s ship. I’ve got a fight to prepare for.”

  Word spread so fast through the Trayshan than a motley crowd was already waiting around the shabby arena in the belly of the ship. Apparently, such fights weren’t unheard of because weapons sat in a haphazard stack near one wall and armor near another. Chains roped in the battle arena. Dirty sawdust covered the floor to soak up the blood.

  Kovak hadn’t spoken as the bartender led them down. The man was already taking bets from Kittridge’s crew and the rest of the men and women from the bar.

  “Why did you do that?” Nova demanded in an undertone.

  Kovak glanced at her. “Do what?”

  She gritted her teeth in exasperation. “Why did you accept his challenge?”

  “He was going to claw you.”

  “I can fight my own battles,” she shot back.

  He stopped walking and looked down at her. The rest of the crowd surged past them, but the SevenWolf crew hung back.

  “You think I didn’t see the gun you were about to draw?” he asked, his voice quiet but heated. “You would have killed the captain of a crew of mercenaries on a Trayshan. They would have torn your team apart followed by your ship. And then where would you be?” He shook his head. “You have no idea what they do to women in a place like this.” His voice lowered and he said, “You wouldn’t have survived.”

  A shiver ran down her spine. She shoved the feeling away and said, “So you have to fight for me like a…a….”

  “A gladiator,” he finished gently. “Nova, it’s what I am. It’s what I know. Have a little faith in me.”

  “I do,” she admitted.

  She lowered her face so that he couldn’t see her expression.

  “So what, then?” he asked.

  She couldn’t bring herself to say the words.

  He set a hand under her chin and lifted it so that she was looking at him again.

  “Nova, talk to me.”

  She couldn’t help the burn of tears in her eyes. “I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

  He smiled down at her. At that moment, everything else fell away. The sound of the crowd dropped to the background, the metallic, rotted smell of the Trayshan dulled, and the fear that pressed against her faded away. All she saw was Kovak’s smile and the way he looked at her as though she was the only person in the world.

  “I’ll be fine, dove. Don’t you worry about me,” he said quietly.

  He lowered his head and kissed her.

  Nova started in surprise, then kissed him back. Her hand reached up to tangle in his hair, and she pressed against him. He pulled back and stared down at her. Her breath came in short gasps.

  She was suddenly aware of her crew watching them. She dropped her hand and took a step back.

  “Don’t get killed,” she said.

  Red touched Kovak’s cheeks and his dark eyes shone in a way that made her wish she was still kissing him.

  “I’ll be careful,” he promised.

  He turned away and followed the crowd down the grungy corridor.

  “What was that?” Junquit demanded.

  “I don’t know,” Nova replied. Her thoughts raced and at the same time felt as if they had stopped with the kiss and wouldn’t start again. She kept feeling the warmth of his breath against hers, the surprising softness of his lips, and the slight brush of his scruff.

  “He’s a rascal,” Gardsworn said.

  “Want me to punch him in the face?” Hawshorn asked.

  Nova shook her head. “No, thank you. It’s fine.”

  “It’s not fine,” Gardsworn replied. “He took advantage of you. Let’s hope he gets himself beaten in that ring.”

  “If he’s beaten, he’s killed,” Guinea reminded him. The red-head looked past them to the ring. “And he’s doing it for us.”

  Gardsworn shook his head. “I have a hard time being grateful for someone who treats a Lady like that.”

  Nova had a hard time feeling bad about it as she followed her crew to the ring. Warmth tingled through her body and she couldn’t help the smile that kept wanting to spread across her face.

  “Contenders ready,” a deep voice called out.

  Nova’s smile vanished completely when the crowd parted and she saw Kovak across the ring from the towering Lacertian. Both wore patch-worked armor and held serrated short swords. Kovak spun the sword once and then settled into a fighting stance.

  Kittridge grinned. “I’m going to enjoy this,” he said.

  Kovak didn’t smile at all. “Remember you said that,” he replied.

  Chapter Fifteen

  KOVE

  It felt right to hold a sword again. Guns were fine, but the grip of a bladed weapon had always felt right in my hands.

  The fact that Nova watched made me feel unsettled. I couldn’t put into words why I had kissed her. Honestly, I couldn’t help myself. She had looked up at me with those beautiful green eyes filled with worry for me. It was so sweet that she was concerned for my wellbeing. True concern from someone else was so rare in my life that I couldn’t help myself.

  I don’t regret it.

  You probably should. She’s a Lady and you’re a nobody.

  I’m fighting for her.

  She didn’t ask you to. Now pay attention before the lizard cuts off your head.

  I blocked a blow aimed for my throat and took a step back. Kittridge grinned. He definitely had the upper hand with his height and reach, and I knew better than to underestimate his tail. I had seen more than one gladiator lose his life by forgetting that the tail of his opponent could be an effective weapon.

  He had the advantage in all ways but one. I was a gladiator. I had lived and breathed combat since the day my dad sold me to Sir Calladar. Most children slept with a toy brandy bear or a yaken hide glove under their pillow. I had slept with a brace of daggers I kept honed to a razor’s edge. A tail had nothing on me.

  Kittridge drove forward, striking again and again with his blade. I let him press me back around the makeshift ring and took blow after blow in an effort to tire him out. He grinned in the false impression that he was winning. The crowd roared. Kittridge’s crew chanted his name. Marks and precious stones exchanged hands. The floor beneath our feet was stained with old, brown blood. A smile touched my lips. It was the world I knew.

  “Why are you smiling?” Kittridge demanded.

  He sliced sideways in an attempt to cut through my stomach. I parried it easily and stepped to the side.

  “Because this is my arena, Kittridge. You made a fatal mistake challenging me.”

  He grimaced and chopped down as though his sword was an ax. I knocked the blow to the side, but the sword cut into a notch on my blade and he had to yank it free. He looked concerned about his weapon when he pulled it back, but I knew the truth. My sword had a weak spot.

  Serrated blades are great for cutting through muscle and bone. I had handled many fine weapons made in just that way. Yet in the making of such an edge there was always the chance for a soft spot, a weakness in the metal made by too much heating and cooling, or the wrong blend of metals. I didn’t have a chance to check and refused to draw Kittridge’s attention to the problem, but I knew that with the strength behind his blows he could possibly cut my sword in half. My swo
rd was the only thing standing between the Lacertian and me bleeding, and I preferred not to bleed.

  I needed to change the man’s thinking. “What do you think will happen when I cut you down? Will they call for mercy? Look at that crowd!”

  His gaze flickered behind me. I could have taken advantage of his momentary slip, but I wanted to make a point.

  “They don’t look like the merciful type,” I said in a low voice.

  He swung for my legs. I dodged the blow and answered with a stab for his head. He knocked it aside at the last moment.

  “You’re the one who’s going to need mercy,” he said.

  That brought a mocking smile to my face. “You think?”

  He let out a growl and lunged for my chest. When I knocked his sword away, he barreled into me with his shoulder and drove me into the chains. At close quarters, the swords were useless. I managed to snake one of my legs around his and fell to the side. Holding my sword up high, I rolled to the right, pulling him down as well.

  He rolled to the left and lashed out with his tail. I threw myself backwards as it hit the ground inches from my face. He scrambled forward and his claws followed. They sliced through the air with the sound of angry hornets. My back hit the chains and I spun to the right. The slash of claws through fabric rent the air. The crowd gasped and shouted.

  We both climbed to our feet.

  “I’ll eat you for breakfast,” Kittridge taunted. He looked past me. “Better yet, when I beat you, I’ll take her. It’s been a while since I’ve had a Cadonian.” He grinned. “They’re feisty unless you know how to control them.” His voice lowered and he hissed, “They lose their fight when they lose their eyes, and their eyes are delicious.”

  Adrenaline spiked through my veins. I knocked his sword aside with mine and slammed a fist into his jaw. He staggered backwards as blood dripped down his scaled throat. His thin tongue slithered over the purple blood. He chuckled.

  “Sensitive when it comes to your captain, are we?” His teeth were coated in purple when he grinned. “A conflict of interest, wouldn’t you say?”