by Layla Nash
Trazzak ignored Maisy as she hopped off the bed, and instead he sat next to it and put one burly arm across Jessalyn’s chest to pin her down and stroked her non-poisoned arm as he leaned closer to speak to her. Keep her calm. Easier said than done. Sedatives would have been easier.
“Calm down, Jessalyn. They need to treat your arm.”
She muttered and moved uneasily, and heat rushed through him at the soft give of her breasts against his forearm. Trazzak moved his fingers to a pulse spot on her wrist, focusing on keeping the connection. He kept his voice low, a murmured secret in her ear. “Tell me what happened, Jessalyn. Who cut you?”
“It’s nothing,” she said, eyes closed and words slurred. Her lips parted as her face continued to swell and the breath rattled in her throat. “Just an accident.”
Trazzak leaned closer, hoping Mrax wasn’t paying attention. And he hoped that Jessalyn was out of her head enough to fall for a little subterfuge. He stroked her cheek and down her throat, a sensual caress, and when her face turned into his touch, Trazzak brushed his lips across her forehead. “Tell me who I should kill for hurting you.”
“Already dead,” she said, a hint of smile on her blue lips. “Except the Xerxh.”
Xerxh. Where the hell had she found one of those on the spaceport? Trazzak grumbled in response and kept stroking her throat, ignoring the Earther doc as she fiddled with the sleeve and eyed him askance. “Why did the Xerxh cut you?”
“Bounty hunters,” she said, voice mostly croak. Her eyelashes fluttered and then her blue eyes found him. “Found me in the market.”
Sandsnakes and sandstorms. Trazzak frowned, though he ran his thumb across her forehead in what he hoped was a soothing motion. The Xerxh mercenaries used poison on all their blades, so their quarry didn’t stand a chance of escaping. Some of them carried antidotes, but since the majority of bounties were paid out regardless of whether the target was alive or dead, most Xerxh didn’t bother.
“Why didn’t you kill him?” Trazzak didn’t move even as Mrax edged in around Maisy and starting lining up the antivenom to treat Jessalyn.
Jessalyn couldn’t speak, her eyes wide, and Maisy cursed and affixed some other technical thing around her throat, doing too many things that Trazzak didn’t understand. He held Jessalyn’s hand and kept stroking her forehead, wanting her to know that someone was still there with her.
Her legs kicked, heels digging into the bed as her back arched, and Maisy started praying. Mrax worked faster, shaking his head, and handed the Earther doc more antivenom and some steroids and other mysterious medications.
“It’s not working,” Trazzak said, voice low. “Do something else. She can’t breathe.”
“She’s breathing,” Maisy said. “Just not a lot. The machine is working.”
He growled, irritated with the apparent lack of concern as Jessalyn’s face turned almost blue. The different machines and doodads lit up and beeped, but it wasn’t enough. Trazzak lurched to his feet, uncertain of what he could actually do, but the sick bay doors slid open and a breathless Isla burst into the room.
Vaant remained in the hall, at least, but his mate collided with Maisy and grabbed Jessalyn’s hand. “What happened? What’s wrong? Why isn’t she breathing?”
Maisy shoved her back out of the way. “Don’t touch that. I’m busy.”
Isla blinked, mouth hanging open, and Trazzak gestured for her to come over to his side of the bed so she could comfort Jessalyn away from where the two doctors worked. “Bounty hunters found her on the spaceport. One of them cut her, and there was poison on the blade.”
As he retreated, Jessalyn’s hand slipping from his, Trazzak noticed a small technical device on the floor next to the bed. It could have fallen out of Jessalyn’s uniform as she struggled. He bent to retrieve it, sliding it into his pocket as he walked out of the sick bay without another word. Isla could take care of her friend, and chances were Jessalyn wouldn’t want him hanging around all over her anyway.
Vaant stopped him in the hall; the captain was not amused. “What the fuck is going on?”
Trazzak gave him a few of the high points, though he didn’t mention anything about Jessalyn’s occupation, and kept the odd device in his pocket, along with her shiv. “Maybe call back to the spaceport and figure out if there was anything useful on the bounty hunters. It sounded like she killed two and left the Xerxh alive, which I don’t personally understand.”
“Maybe she’s not as comfortable being attacked and killing people,” Vaant said. “You know, like normal people.”
“She’s probably more comfortable than you think.” Trazzak slapped the captain on the shoulder and started down the hall. “And now I have to go retrieve my snacks from the mess before someone runs off with it and the liquor.”
And Jessalyn’s tablet with the bounty information, which he’d left on the table in the rush to get her to sick bay. Between that and the strange device that fell out of her pocket, he needed to figure out what the hell kind of mess she’d gotten herself into, and before it got the ship destroyed or the crew in trouble.
His thoughts drifted elsewhere as he growled at one of the younger crewmembers as he sniffed too close to the red paste. What happened to Jessalyn with the poison and random bounty hunters had been a fear of his from the moment he got dragged into the information officer training. He didn’t want to die alone in a strange place where no one knew his name or who to tell that he’d passed, and all of his secrets went with him. Constantly being pursued and hunted, with no real way of defending against it or settling the score, didn’t seem right to his Xaravian mind.
Trazzak carried the tablet and the rest of the food and liquor back to his quarters. A quiet night in his room figuring out how the bounty hunters found Jessalyn — and how much they were being paid in order to break the neutrality pact — sounded like a better use of his time than mooning over her in the sick bay. Except periodically the memory of her soft skin and long lashes intruded on his logical analysis of the tablet and device, and he had to start all over. Bothersome Earthers. He didn’t entirely mind.
Jess
Jess woke up in the infirmary in a panic, though she was too weak to do anything about it. She tried to sit up and claw the tubes and devices off of her arms and chest. Before she got too far, though, Isla popped up next to the bed and practically tackled her. “Stop it right now.”
Jess froze, staring at her friend, and her heart raced, pounding against her ribs. “What the hell is going on?”
“Take a deep breath. Maisy said you might freak out.” Isla sat on the side of the bed, not letting Jess move even an inch. “And they’re still cleaning the poison out of your organs, so chill the fuck out.”
“Poison?” Jess groaned, trying to remember what happened. Everything after walking onto the spaceport blurred with confusion and darkness. She knew something happened — several somethings happened — but nothing parted the fog in her memory. “What’s going on?”
Isla wiped briefly under her eyes, assuming a stern expression as she poked Jess in the chest. “We’re not entirely sure, since you took off into the waystation and didn’t tell anyone what was going on. You showed up on the ship and tried to drink Trazzak under the table in the mess, then passed out. He hauled you in here and insisted we give you antivenom, because you said you’d been cut by a Xerxh bounty hunter.”
A bounty hunter? Jess shook her head, looking down at her arm and all the devices around it. It seemed perfectly plausible, given everything that had happened, but she didn’t remember any of it. She wondered if she’d killed the bounty hunter. Jess lay back against the pillows and exhaled. Great. Now she had to worry about what happened on the spaceport; she’d meant to meet one of her old contacts from the Information Ministry, and something told her she had, but no other details revealed themselves.
She pushed away the thought. Meditation and some memory tricks she learned in training would help resurrect some of those memories, or so she hoped. Jess
squinted through a growing headache as she studied Isla. “What are you doing here?”
“I was worried about you, asshole.” Isla scowled. “What do you mean, what am I doing here?”
“I just thought...” Jess shook her head, rubbing her forehead with her unencumbered arm. “I don’t know what I thought. Things have been weird, since... Since before Caihiri.”
Isla’s eyes narrowed. “You’re fucking kidding. Just because you told us about... your other work, doesn’t mean Griggs and I aren’t your friends. Is that what you think? That we somehow stopped caring about you just because we have some trust issues now?”
“It’s fine,” Jess said. She hadn’t wanted to have this conversation at all, much less half-dressed and covered in medical tubes and doodads. “I expected it, Isla. That’s why I didn’t tell you sooner. That work isn’t... conducive to friendships or anything deep, and I just... wanted it to last a little longer.”
“You stubborn idiot.” Isla shoved to her feet and paced the length of the sick bay. “I won’t speak for Griggs, but there’s no way in hell I’d abandon you just because you’ve been living a double life. I just wish you’d told us sooner. Now is the time to come clean, though. We can’t have more secrets between us, not when the Alliance has bounties on our heads and are willing to come after you with poison.”
Jess didn’t think that was a great idea. She had too many secrets. And if anyone ever knew what she’d done and to whom, they wouldn’t be nearly so understanding. Isla only thought she could forgive Jess for all the lies and secrets, but that was only because Isla didn’t know all of it. Jess sighed. “You’re right. I’m just not used to it. And — please don’t tell everyone else just yet. I need to figure some stuff out.”
“We’re a crew, Jessalyn Barnes. We have to work together. We won’t survive if we let the Alliance turn us against each other.”
Jess had seen it a thousand times before. She studied the stuff on her arm, wondering if the red liquid running through the tubes was actually her blood. The Xaravians didn’t have the most high-tech medical equipment; at least if she’d been on the Heisenberg, they could have just zapped her and she’d have been on her feet in a couple of minutes. “What does everyone know about what happened on the waystation?”
“Not much, since we didn’t have much to go on.” Isla sat back down, though her foot jiggled as it balanced across her knee. “Vaant asked Trazzak what happened on the waystation, but he didn’t say much. Just that he ran into you at the bookstore and that was it.”
The bookstore with the irritated Tyluk woman. Jess frowned as pieces of memory came back in a black-and-white, disjointed manner. Trazzak helping her pick things up, then paying for them when she wasn’t looking. Everything grayed out after that. Jess winced. “I don’t really remember anything else.”
“Maisy said it might take a day or two for you to feel back to normal.” Isla ran her hands through her hair, kicking the end of the hospital bed. “And you’re going to take it easy, you hear me? No charging back to work. No time in the gym. You’re going to lie here and rest. That’s it.”
Jess raised an eyebrow. “You can’t watch me every second, Lennox.”
“Maybe not,” Isla said, rising to the challenge. “But everyone else on this ship is under penalty of an ass-kicking from Griggs if they see you misbehaving and they don’t do anything about it. The whole ship is watching you. Don’t get up, don’t run off, don’t be a hero.”
“I really hate you right now.”
Isla looked a little smug. “Yep. Since you just bought a pile of books, I’ll have someone bring you a stack so you can read while you relax. Maisy will be by in a bit to check on you and adjust the machines, and Griggs will bring you dinner later tonight. Anything else you need?”
Jess had a growing list, starting with getting everyone the hell out of her business. As soon as the machines stopped running, Jess needed to get back to her room to figure out what the fuck happened on the waystation. She must have met with the Information Ministry contact before going to the bookstore, and the bounty hunters must have picked her up afterward. Maybe. None of it made sense. She couldn’t figure it out in the sick bay, with all the lights and machines and shit. She needed peace and quiet and her own room, some of her favorite tea to boost concentration and focus, and the ability to search through the clothes she’d worn on the spaceport. There might be clues in her pockets, if no one threw them out.
“What happened to the clothes I was wearing?” Jess tugged the sheets up a little higher, not liking the implications that someone undressed her to put her in the bed.
Isla got up and fished around in the corner of the sick bay, then held up the remains of Jess’s uniform. “Good thing we’ve got more of these. I think Maisy cut it off after they got you stable. Did you leave something in it?”
“I can’t remember. I’ll look later to make sure.” Jess yawned and pretended to settle down. “How’s everything else going? Where’s the ship now?”
“We’re back in rebel territory, and that’s all that matters.” Isla patted her hand around the tubes and wires, and left the uniform at her feet before heading to the door. “Ring the bell if you need anything. And don’t try to get dressed and walk out of here, seriously. Maisy said the poison can still kill you if they don’t get all of it out of your organs and blood. It’s nothing to mess around with. Okay?”
Jess grumbled and waved her free hand. “Whatever. Fine.”
“So glad to have your cooperation,” Isla said under her breath, but softened it with a smile. “I’m glad you’re okay, Jess. We couldn’t do this without you.”
A flare of guilt stole over Jess as she attempted to smile back. “Glad to be here.”
When the doors whooshed shut behind Isla, Jess lay back and stared up at the ceiling. Not for the first time, she wished she took notes during meetings. There was no telling who she met or what she promised, if anything — or even if the Information Ministry rep showed up. Jess groaned and covered her eyes. Maybe Trazzak knew more about what happened, but she really didn’t want to ask him anything. Something about that particular Xaravian made her very nervous. Maybe it was the memory of someone stroking her cheek and throat and whispering in her ear about killing whoever hurt her — the memory sounded like Trazzak and she saw flashes of his face when she closed her eyes. It wasn’t quite as disturbing as what happened on the waystation, but it didn’t help her sleep any.
Trazzak
Trazzak spent most of the night trying to figure out the strange device that fell out of Jessalyn’s pocket. It appeared to be some sort of communicator or information conduit, but he couldn’t decipher the unlocking codes. Everything he did caused the communicator to shut off and restart. He nearly crushed it in his fist with rage after the third time the thing shut down. Throwing it across the room made him feel a little better, since it bounced off the wall and a desk before resting on his bed. The damn thing kept beeping and lighting up, taunting him.
It almost reminded him of Jessalyn herself.
He had better luck with the minuscule chip that had been attached to it, since the chip wasn’t protected by the same sort of encryption. Trazzak loaded the chip into one of the fancy tablets Frrar picked up at the spaceport, and unlocked more information than he’d ever seen on a single chip.
Some of it was so technical that not even half a bottle of liquor helped him understand it. Trazzak debated calling the engineer over to translate, but held back until he knew more about what Jessalyn was hiding. He sorted through the schematics and usage statistics until he found a narrative to describe the technology — some sort of combination shield and offensive weapon. Combined, it looked like it was undetectable by the Alliance’s scanners and capable of defeating the Alliance defensive capabilities. A hell of a thing, if it worked.
Trazzak sketched notes to himself as he scanned through more of the information as quickly as possible. And it would be a hell of a boon to the rebels if the creators would
sell it to them instead of the Alliance.
He sat back and reached for another drink. Not that they could afford to purchase the technology, since the owners could name their price in any galaxy ever discovered and make enough to buy a couple of planets. Trazzak used another tablet to research the planet that developed the theories, frowning more when he located them in a rebel-held quadrant. Why would Jessalyn have this much information — practically everything, including proprietary information from the researchers — about a minor planet in a rebel sector? The Dablonians, a loose federation of tribes, would be insane to share that information with anyone, much less a ... a former Alliance information officer.
Trazzak growled in irritation and almost threw the tablets across the room as well. Sandsnakes and northern winds. He’d almost fallen for her act, and he should have known better. Jessalyn had to still be working for the Alliance. A traitor among them, and for long enough that the fates only knew what kind of damage she’d done. He shoved to his feet to pace. Unbelievable. He should have seen it sooner, and said something about it to Vaant the moment he recognized her as an information officer. Maybe that was what caused the altercation between Jessalyn and the others — what if Isla tried to stand up for the Galaxos crew and Jessalyn threatened her?
His scales rattled as he leaned over the table, flicking through the files until he found a date. Maybe it was all old. Maybe Jessalyn had it all on her when the Galaxos first encountered the Argo, and he over-reacted to the potential threat. Trazzak gritted his teeth. Some of the files were only a few days old. All saved on the same day, at the same time, as someone downloaded them from somewhere else.
She must have picked it up on the spaceport.
Trazzak spent most of the night pacing and reviewing the information. He didn’t want to accuse Jessalyn of treason without having all of the data to understand what happened and when. Maybe they’d only recently turned her to work for the Alliance. Maybe it had been going on all along. But every passing moment only made him angrier, until his spikes stood up and his scales practically glowed crimson.