by Layla Nash
Then Trazzak could focus on finding Jessalyn.
Frrar muttered updates based on the relays and other comms nonsense, though Trazzak didn’t process much of it. He fixed his attention on the viewing screens in front of him and the vast expanse of space. Somewhere out there, Jessalyn needed help. Some of the footage from the clinic showed her fighting off the bounty hunter, or at least trying to, so he felt more confident that she wasn’t a part of the disappearance. He still didn’t know if he could trust her, but she deserved the chance to explain herself and make her own choices. If she wanted to go back to the Alliance, then so be it. But some bastard bounty hunter shouldn’t have earned such a large payday on her life.
It seemed like a lost cause when Frrar finally cleared his throat. “I think we’ve got something. Two degrees starboard.”
Trazzak adjusted the ship’s heading and scanned for hints of the suspicious cruiser. He almost missed it — the ship ran without any lights or identifying beacons, and could have simply been another piece of space trash if not for Frrar’s exceptional technical prowess. Not that Trazzak would tell him. He grunted and adjusted the controls. “Got it. Hail them. We’ll see how they respond.”
He got the weapons systems ready, just in case.
Frrar hailed the ship, but was met with silence. He adjusted the frequencies and tried again, and finally a scratchy transmission reached them. “We are transmitting peacefully through this sector. Unless you are in distress, we have no business with –”
“Yurik?” Trazzak said, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the viewer and the unfamiliar ship.
A long pause stretched, and Trazzak braced himself for bad news. It sounded too much like Yurik for it to be anyone else, but there weren’t a whole lot of reasons for the Xaravian to be in a ship like that, in that quadrant.
The transmission crackled more, then Yurik’s voice came back clearer. “Aye. Trazzak? Didn’t think I’d run into you here. Do you require assistance?”
Something wasn’t right. Trazzak’s hearts sank. He didn’t like lying to another Xaravian, but Trazzak trusted his instincts above all other things, and he didn’t want to risk Jessalyn’s life by deviating from that. “Actually, we were trying to catch up to discuss a new angle on that deal we intended to make. Can I come aboard?”
Another hesitation, then the cruiser slowed and drifted closer to the cutter, until the cutter’s docking arm captured the other ship and held them steady. Yurik didn’t sound particularly excited. “Whatever you’ve got, brother, I’m ready.”
“Stand by.” Trazzak made sure all comms transmissions were silenced before he spoke to Frrar. “Be prepared to fight or flee. I don’t know what he’s up to, but something isn’t right.”
“He’s Xaravian,” Frrar said, expression blank. “What are you talking about? He can’t be the one —”
“A Xaravian took her from the clinic,” Trazzak said. He wanted to tear his hair out and throw the bones onto the floor. “And I told him how much the bounty was on Jessalyn. It’s possible he went after it.”
“A warrior would never betray —”
“He might have,” Trazzak said. “I’ll be able to tell if she was on the ship, then we can either continue the search or figure out where he took her. We can’t overlook this just because he carries a dagger.”
Frrar grumbled but took over the controls, shaking his head. “It’s a bad day when we can’t trust the rest of the brotherhood.”
Trazzak heartily agreed. He made sure he carried his dagger and a concealed stunner as he pulled on a spacesuit and eased his way through the docking arm to reach the cruiser. For a moment he feared Yurik wouldn’t let him into the other ship, and Trazzak would be left to drift in space, but the dingy panel opened and the other Xaravian helped him step aboard the cruiser.
He forced himself to shake Yurik’s arm, but looked around the interior of the ship for any hint that Jessalyn had been there. “I was surprised we found you out here, since this is an uncontrolled sector. Are you on a mission?”
The scars on Yurik’s face buckled as he attempted a smile. “You could say that. A few minor errands, though, not much else. I had to pick up some parts for the ships I maintain for the rebels, that’s all. This is the only sector that still sells that kind of scrap.”
“Good luck that we found you, then.” Trazzak stretched his back and hoped his scales didn’t give away his rising irritation and suspicion. “There’s a port near here. Maybe we can stop for a meal and figure out how we can get this system away from the Dablonians.”
“I’m on a bit of a deadline, brother, but there’s a waystation back the way you came.” Yurik frowned and went to the small nav panel on the ship. “They’ve got decent red paste here, if we pay extra. I can cover it. Just got a bit of a bonus.”
Trazzak wondered if maybe he’d gotten everything wrong. Yurik seemed wary, but Trazzak might have felt the same if he were in Yurik’s place and someone chased him down in an uncontrolled sector to ask a bunch of questions about his business. “Have you seen anything strange through here? We heard there might have been some Alliance ships in the vicinity.”
More lies — and more proof that Trazzak would have been a terrible information officer.
Yurik spun through the radar imaging on the ship’s controls, shaking his head. “Nothing that I saw. So what’s the new angle on the system? You got someone on the inside?”
He smiled like it was a joke, but Trazzak wondered if such a thing were possible. He tried to think fast, even though it wasn’t one of his strong suits, and paced a little through the hold. “No, although that might be the only real option. I was thinking we might be able to get some fake letters of credit and buy ourselves enough time to copy the design, at least.”
“Brother,” Yurik said, and that time he did laugh. “You chased me all the way out here to talk about fake credit? The Dablonians practically invented fake credit. I don’t think they’ll fall for it.”
“The Slasu have some new ways of getting around the regulations,” Trazzak said, grasping at straws. “There might be a way.”
Yurik rocked back on his heels. “The Slasu? You’d actually consider doing business with them?”
“Not by choice.” Trazzak shook his head and started to retreat to the doorway. There was no sign of Jessalyn, and nothing that Yurik said or did that hinted he’d been the one to kidnap her. It wasn’t exactly a lost cause, but it was close. “We can meet up at the waystation to discuss.”
He stubbed his foot on a heavy metal box near door, and Yurik jumped forward to secure it before Trazzak could boot it out into space. Trazzak raised an eyebrow at the sudden yellow flush of anxiety in Yurik’s scales. “What’s in the box?”
“Those parts,” the other Xaravian said. “Paid a lot of money for them, that’s all.”
Trazzak turned to go, not entirely reassured, but paused as something sparkled in a sudden flare of light from the stars. A bracelet. A very small chain and some kind of medallion. Trazzak bent to pick it up, even as Yurik tried to retrieve it, and held up the silver trinket. Jessalyn’s bracelet, complete with the fancy compass — so she would always find her way. He went very still as he held the bracelet, listening to the thundering of his hearts in his ears. Yurik lied to him. Tried to distract him. Stole Jessalyn.
Before Yurik could speak, Trazzak turned on his heel to face him. “So you got the bounty?”
The other Xaravian eyed him, bracing for a fight. “Yes. That amount of money could save the rebellion. I know you liked the girl, brother, but —”
“You could have asked me,” Trazzak said, letting some of his irritation show. “We could have worked things out, then you wouldn’t have had to create such a mess at the clinic.”
Yurik didn’t let down his guard, still watching Trazzak closely, and took a few steps to the side as if to evaluate the rest of his ship. “I thought she might be able to sway you. But now that we’ve got the bounty, we can go buy the system from the Dablo
nians. It’s more than enough.”
“That’s a lot easier than working with the Slasu.” Trazzak’s scales rattled at just the thought — either working with the Slasu or trading Jessalyn’s life for some soulless piece of technology. It took all of his self-control to keep from strangling Yurik, the deceitful bastard. But he needed him for a just a little while longer — only long enough to discover where he left Jessalyn and who had her, then Trazzak would find a way to mete out justice. “Are you sure you got everything out of them?”
Yurik checked a few of the controls and re-stabilized the ship as the cutter drifted and the docking arm strained. “What do you mean, everything? The Alliance pays well enough that we could buy our own planet, brother. I don’t think there’s much left to take.”
“There’s always more to take.” Trazzak forced a smile on his face. So the Xaravian dealt with the Alliance directly. Trazzak hoped it was only a one-time thing, but from Yurik’s tone and the ease with which he described working with the enemy, Trazzak feared there was more treachery to uncover. “We can go back and see what else we can get out of them. If there’s only one or two of the bastards, maybe we take one hostage and sell him back to the Alliance. Steal their ship, plant a bug, do something else to help the rebels.”
Yurik studied him, head tilted, and something gleamed in the Xaravian’s eyes. Maybe it was suspicion, maybe it was opportunism. Trazzak wondered if maybe Yurik planned to sell him out to the Alliance as well; there was a bounty on his head, after all. He and Frrar and Maisy would all constitute a massive payday for the bastard. But Trazzak didn’t let it show on his face. He just needed to lure Yurik in enough to find Jessalyn, and then he could figure out if the Xaravian could be saved from his own betrayals.
Yurik’s expression cleared and a broad smile showed off all his teeth. “Sounds like a plan. This guy will fall for anything, and he’s got deep pockets. A Ministry asshole. It’ll be fun to watch him squirm.”
Trazzak agreed. Whether the Ministry asshole was Nathan or Yurik himself, it would definitely be worth it to watch them squirm. And, if they’d hurt Jessalyn, to watch them die.
Jess
Jess still felt like she hadn’t caught up by the time Nathan sat down and got himself settled. He placed a small medical injector on the table, next to a small notebook and a bag, and rested his hands on the table.
His smile turned her stomach. “I must say, Jess, congratulations on a solid effort. I can’t believe you actually got the Xaravian to take you to Dablon Seven. You couldn’t have succeeded, of course — it was impossible. But you really gave it your all, and while fighting off one of the most advanced toxins we’ve developed.”
He even applauded with soft little pats, mocking her. Jess couldn’t feel her legs and didn’t know how much she cared what happened in the next few minutes, but she needed answers from him, if she could get them. She wanted to be angry, but she was too tired. “If you want to keep talking, give me the antidote. Otherwise, I won’t waste my time trying and I’ll just close my eyes. Maybe see you on the other side of a black hole.”
“Perhaps,” Nathan said, toying with the injector on the table. It looked as if he truly pondered it, when Jess knew it was just an act. He performed a play for her, just like he had when they were dating — making her believe one thing while he used her and planned his next conquest. “But there’s a price tag on this antidote, my dear. As I’m sure you suspected.”
“What kind of price?” Jess hated the games. But if she could keep him talking, she might get an opportunity to get the antidote herself, or she could buy time for Trazzak or Isla to find her.
“Same one as always,” he murmured. The injector spun in his fingers, silver and blue, as Nathan’s smile spread. “Information.”
Jess geared up for a smartass remark, debating whether to cooperate in hopes of getting the antidote, when the door opened once more and a familiar figure slid inside. The Minister, a tall Earther with olive skin and dark hair in a well-cut suit at odds with the shady port, stepped into the crowded room, and Jess’s heart stopped. Her mentor and one of her earliest teachers. Someone whose counsel she trusted as she navigated the complex politics and backroom dealings in the Ministry and the Alliance itself. She’d trusted him, not just with her career but with her life. She thought him the paragon of virtue — playing a dirty game in order to achieve the common good, to create a better life for everyone.
She never expected to face him across a table after being arrested and traded in for a bounty.
The Minister clapped Nathan on the shoulder. “Just give us a minute, Nathan.”
The other officer got up and said, “Of course, sir,” before he stepped outside.
Which left Jess facing the Minister and the whole of her past. All of her successes, all of her mistakes... The Minister knew them all. He might have been the only person living who knew almost everything about her, and the only things he didn’t were the small dark secrets she kept from everyone, even herself. Jess couldn’t breathe, and it wasn’t because of the toxin.
He took Nathan’s chair and carefully brushed some dust and debris from the surface of the table before resting his elbows on the metal surface. “Jessalyn, it is good to see you again. After the incident on the Argo, I thought perhaps you were lost to us.”
Her vision blurred and a knot in her throat made it even harder to breathe. He sounded like he actually meant it. She couldn’t speak, though, for fear her voice would crack and her last words would be an embarrassment.
“I wanted to say how proud I am of you,” the Minister went on. “Your ability to adapt and overcome the circumstances from that awful day... You’re a testament to the strength and training in our organization, and a true professional.”
She searched his words and tone for a hint of condemnation, a hint of mocking, but there was nothing but sincerity. Jess held onto the table with what strength remained in her hands so she wouldn’t fall on her face. “Th-thank you.”
“You’ve made so many sacrifices for your career and our Alliance,” he said. “Unfairly so, I know. I have asked much of you over the past ten years, and it has not always seemed as though there was a reason. I can assure you, all of our choices lead us to this place, Jessalyn. This could be your greatest assignment, your greatest triumph. If you want to continue to serve. Even if you do not, something like this,” and he waved his hand at the dingy room before going on. “Does not recognize your dedication and devotion to the cause.”
Jess remembered in a flash why she’d continued as an information officer, even through her doubts — because of him. Because of the Minister. He had a way of making a choice clear, of showing there was only one true path. He could have sold sand to a Xaravian in a desert. But a flare of pain through her joints brought her back to reality. Why didn’t he just give her the antidote? There wasn’t much time left, with the way her heart fluttered and weakened. Every breath grew more difficult to draw.
He leaned forward on the table, close enough he could look into her eyes and Jess could see herself reflected in the rich chocolate of his irises. His voice was so kind, so understanding. “I would be happy to turn everything back the way it was. You are welcome to resume your previous post, or a new career if you’d like one. We would be honored to have you back among the faithful. A promotion would be well deserved, with all that you’ve endured over the past few months. We would need a few details on those barbarians who kidnapped you, but that is all. And of course we have the antidote, as well.”
It sat there on the table between them, so innocuous and small for something that contained her life. Jess wondered what else he wasn’t saying. It seemed too easy. Could everything go back the way it was? Would her colleagues trust her again? Could she trust them, after the last few months?
“Are you ready to join us again, Jessalyn?” The Minister touched the back of her hand and Jess jumped, startled. Her concentration fled as she swayed, and for a second, she thought maybe it was the end. H
e removed something from the inside pocket of his coat and placed a small, clear sticker on the inside of her wrist. “That should help make this easier.”
The pain fled and clarity bloomed through Jess’s mind. It felt like a straight IV of caffeine and sugar jolted straight to her heart, and she sat up with a sudden rush of energy. She felt like she could run a marathon around the room. It must have shown on her face, because the Minister smiled and patted her hand again. “Just a short boost, my dear, so you can make your choices with a clear head. Are you ready to join us again?”
Even with the surge of awareness, she didn’t know what to say. He made it sound so easy — walk away from the rebels who didn’t trust her and back to the Ministry that did. She was so confused, and the fatigue and pain waited just on the other side of the small dose of antidote he gave her. It would fade, faster than she was ready for, and she’d be stuck with the same dilemma. Whatever it was she disliked about her work as an information officer, couldn’t she overlook that for the comfort of her old life? She knew how to maneuver through the Ministry, and how to make the most of even a shitty assignment. She wouldn’t have to worry about stoic Xaravians and their prickly egos and sense of honor. Isla and the others would understand. Jess hadn’t had a choice the first time.
Her fresh start waited back with the Ministry. So easy. Simple. And yet it felt so... hollow.
When she hesitated, the Minister just smiled. “Take a few minutes to think about it, Jessalyn. You’ve had a rough few days, and I’m told that toxin gets increasingly unpleasant the longer it remains untreated. Don’t take too long to make the decision, my dear. We can get the doctors here immediately to treat you, but we should do so as soon as possible. I do hope you make the right choice.”
As he stood, Jess’s thoughts finally connected. So it was an Alliance toxin. The Ministry sent the Xerxh to attack her after she met with Nathan the first time. They deliberately poisoned her and left her to die or find the antidote on her own. That didn’t seem particularly open to a fresh start, if they preferred she die rather than continue to live in exile. Jess tried to shake it off and get back to that calm certainty that the fresh start was the best way to go, and cleared her throat as the Minister stood. “Wait.”