She’d boarded this fucking ship to avoid all the triggers, choosing civilian life after her discharge, and this was so unfair—like life was fair. Neira felt her lip curl at her pathetic musing. Best to get on with it.
The dual panels of the lift shuddered but didn’t part company as she motioned Yuri into position on the far side of the conveyance. She supposed the doors were affected by the same issues as the ones to the passenger quarters. A tiny slit manifested in the middle as the business end of a blade poked through the joint. Neira moved swiftly, bringing up her palka, and slammed the blade back into the recesses of the door. She distinctly heard a foul curse hard on the heels of her action.
“What do you think they’ll do next?” Yuri spoke in a hushed tone.
“If I was on the other side of the door I’d try a couple of blades at once and hope whoever beat back the first attempt is alone, or got lucky.” She ran a finger down her weapon, relieved that there wasn’t a mark.
Her only supporter tried a smile, totally at odds with the look of terror in his pale blue eyes. “I’ll do my best.”
“All I can ask, Yuri,” she reassured him, blessing the faulty mechanics that were the only thing standing between them and some very real nastiness. She didn’t tell Yuri that repairs might already be underway, in which case the lift doors would fly open and they’d be overwhelmed in an instant, because she’d never be able to hold back a concerted attack by herself. And pirates weren’t stupid; they existed in space where others couldn’t, so they’d developed a way of surviving she couldn’t pretend to understand. Lots of things she didn’t understand on this trip. Like why she was really here. What had she been thinking? And should you have stayed on the Home World? Let them find a way to bring you back into the fold?
“Are you a soldier?”
Glancing at Yuri, she nodded, wondering if he’d somehow read her mind. “Was. Not for a few months now.”
“You quit? Do they allow that?”
“It’s called a discharge, my friend, and yes, one can quit.” Not the way you quit, though. She gave her head a quick shake to shove that thought away and kept her attention on the doors.
“You look like a soldier still. You’re fit in ways different than the farmers and the others. And your hair…”
She involuntarily passed a hand over her closely shorn locks, so unlike the majority of the other women aboard—and some of the men. Her hair had grown out a little since she was discharged and she’d tried to leave it alone, tried to be more feminine, but old habits die hard. People die hard too, don’t they? Fuck. She couldn’t let herself think about this crap now.
“It’s easier to care for,” she said, wondering why she even bothered to assuage Yuri’s curiosity, except maybe their dialogue would keep him calm and up to the task.
“The sonic shower is something less than desirable,” he agreed, chatting desultorily. Anxiety was apparent in his stance, and his voice echoed down the long corridor. “There’s actual water in showers on some ships. Better recycling or something.”
Their only warning was the slice of steel against steel as the two blades Neira had forecast pushed through the narrow crevice of the lift doors. It snapped them both out of their superficial conversation and she mentally cursed her lack of focus. Stepping up, she successfully whacked one back inside, and a crack beside her, accompanied by a muttered profanity, dealt with the other. Yuri blinked her way and the closet support, now in bad repair, dangled from one hand.
“Good job.” Her troops wouldn’t require praise, but he looked overwhelmed.
“Uh, thanks. I imagined it was a predator coming close to the barns.”
Not such a bad analogy, Neira thought, as she considered his now useless weapon. The substance it was made from was no match for tempered steel. “You’ll need another rod. You might want to hurry.”
Watching him hustle back to his quarters while she waited for the next foray chiseled away at her equanimity. She sucked in a deep breath and exhaled fully. When their attackers came through those doors, barring the miraculous arrival of the Outriders, she’d acquit herself to the best of her ability…and die trying. A calm resolve overtook her and she prepared. This was what she’d been seeking, if only she had admitted it. Not some stifling half-life on a planet nobody else wanted, but death in battle. Guarding the innocent, even if she wouldn’t be able to save them either.
Chapter Two
Vayne Palldyn bent a look on his executive officer. “Why is this taking so long?”
Leric Hastel lifted a shoulder and barked a question into his mouthpiece, wincing when a retort clearly filled his ear. He fished the earbud out and turned to Vayne. “They’ve secured the bridge, the crew quarters and the first deck of passengers. And of course the cargo hold. Some problem on gaining access to the second deck.”
“Explain.”
“I can’t, sir. They won’t say. They’re clearly agitated.”
That wouldn’t do. Vayne knew the second deck held primarily women, the soft, curvy women of that Home World—Earth—he’d had cause to visit after the conflict. After his kind and the humans became allies. The place he was no longer welcome to call upon, despite the détente, because someone had figured out he had ulterior motives, someone with a guilty conscience. He’d been lucky to receive forewarning in order to leave a few stints ahead of the assassination teams. The ambassador’s daughter had foolishly believed he was committed to her and passed on the message her father had received. No doubt she now wished him ill, considering he hadn’t contacted her again as promised, but she wasn’t a chosen. In truth it had pained him to use the girl, but she’d been a means to a very essential end. If only he’d had more time. And it wasn’t as if he hadn’t brought her intense pleasure.
Now here he was, breaking every kind of rule. If not for his position on his own planet, this action could get him executed. If he was found out it would still create some issues, maybe even a scandal. And while his information stated the Astris carried a large female passenger contingent, he had no idea of the age of said females, yet decided to take the risk. He was that desperate. His species was that desperate, the treaty and all its old, doddering males who supported it, be damned. “We should have taken the Astris ourselves.”
“No, sir. The pirates seizing her gives you plausible deniability.”
Vayne snorted a laugh despite the circumstances. His exec had adopted several interesting political sayings from their previous enemy and used them well. “This is true, Leric. But you’ve already said there was a phase weapon discharged. Who is to say they won’t completely fuck up the remainder of the mission? I hope to find an appropriate mate in one of those women.”
“I understand that. But you can’t think to go over there.”
He cogitated. His ship, Tomodr, stood off from the pirates’ battered one, using the profile to screen it from any possible detection by the Astris in the event someone on that bridge had detected the attack coming. He knew the Outriders would soon be on their way back, because their slower charge had been at a standstill long enough for the security ships to have lost the old style ion beacon. He decided.
“I’m going. You have the con. Send two troops with me.”
“Sir!” It was Leric’s job as first officer to protest, but he would know the futility in it as he knew his sovereign. Vayne wouldn’t change his mind, not with his possible prey—some Shadalla male’s prey—so close.
“Tell those fools to cease whatever they are doing to attempt to take that deck! And tell them not to kill anyone else.” Surely everyone worthy of being an opponent was now subdued. It was a passenger ship, for fuck’s sake.
At Leric’s resigned acceptance, Vayne made his way to the lift, relieving another officer of his weapon as he did so, the shocker being far less dangerous in closed quarters than a fucking phase weapon. Assholes.
The two troopers he’d ordered joined him at the shuttle, and a pilot was already at the controls. Vayne decided to let the sma
ller man fly her. He was an excellent pilot himself, but he wanted to concentrate on the more immediate—getting this mission done. They gained the docking port on the beleaguered ship in a few moments, and upon entering the bay he surveyed the motley human pirates milling about as they alternately cursed and glared his way.
“Captain?” He afforded their leader the respect the pirate probably didn’t deserve, but it accomplished what he required. The other man—previously seen only on vids—stepped forward and gave Vayne his attention.
“There was no need to attend, Sovereign. None.” The captain spoke quietly but with intent.
Vayne’s gut clenched. The pirate had figured out who he really was, despite using false names and considerable currency to blur the reasoning. He rose above it, ignoring the title. “Explain the problem.”
With a faint sneer, Captain Ristos gestured toward the corridor. “Come.”
Leaving everyone behind except for his troops, who’d fanned out to protect his flank, Vayne followed Ristos. Assorted Astris crew members wearing the distinguished green-and-gold uniforms of the transport line were tied up and stacked against the walls, and all were blindfolded. At least his orders not to use ultimate force had been followed. Ristos came to a halt and gestured. Vayne noted how well made the other man was, tall and muscular, and he’d clearly seen the inside of a sonic shower recently. A quick glance around determined the remainder of the pirates were also well set up and tidy about their persons despite their mismatched appearances and frustrated demeanor. It struck him he was dealing with something quite different from that of the killers and marauders he expected.
“It’s the same on the bridge. We killed no one. The captain refused to tell the crew to stand down, so he was…made an example, and the rest followed suit for the most part. Stunned several, beat a few into submission, but we have control.”
Surveying Ristos with new interest, Vayne saw what the vids hadn’t shown him—the man was intelligent and obviously a leader of men. That much was evident in the deportment of the ones who followed him. Perhaps some kind of disbanded military? “You don’t have control of the second deck.”
“Yet,” the other man agreed grimly. “We thought it was a mechanical problem. The gravitational systems were damaged by an overenthusiastic crew who thought he was releasing the fucking docking clamps and dissuading us. It’s made every door on the ship either slow to open or, in the case of the lift, impossible. Then some fool used a phase weapon and destroyed the back-up systems.”
Vayne waited, and Ristos’ black eyes narrowed as he explained in detail. “We thought the second deck lift doors were also merely stuck, needed a manual push. But the man I had prying it open insists both his blade, and that of his comrade, were pushed back on them. It’s a ridiculous stand-off, and we don’t know who is on the other side.”
“I apologize for thinking you less than professional,” Vayne offered.
“Well, don’t praise me yet, Sovereign. We lost a pod too. One passenger, female, probably a passenger and unlikely to be skilled at avoidance, but there’s still a risk—”
“Of the Home World getting a transmission, even via an outpost or another ship,” Vayne concluded.
“Your part in this won’t likely be in that report, but it does mean we need to get moving and retrieve that pod. And so far we haven’t been able to repair those damn doors!”
“Are you suggesting we cut our losses?” That was most definitely not happening, and Vayne’s tone reflected the fact.
Ristos shrugged. “We got the cargo, what there was of it. The Home World isn’t sending as much out to its colonies anymore. I expect they’re self-sufficient. More tends to come back. For import, as it were. But they like to make their stamp on whatever they touch.”
Vayne wasn’t going to respond to that resonating comment, because he’d likely lose his temper and destroy a few things, waste too much time. Would he ever move past the rage? “What was the number of males to females in the first deck?”
He was determined to hide his real reason for waylaying the Astris, though Ristos clearly wasn’t stupid. He also regretted the severe injury to the Home World captain and made a mental note to find out who the man’s family was and ensure they wanted for nothing in the event the man wasn’t able to work again. Vayne hated only the politicians, and those high up in Earth’s military, the ones who gave the orders…and collaborated with his worst enemy.
“Fifty-two females, sixteen males.” He yanked his thoughts away from the Juxtant Monarch as Ristos supplied the information.
“And their stats?”
“All females well above forty, sent to oversee or work in the installations on Vector Seven. Skilled. I suspect they are going because there is nothing left for them at home. The men are all in their prime, farm labor.”
“Are the men willing to work for better wages and conditions?” Vayne made another effort to mask his real intent.
The other man shrugged. “None agreed. They think it’s a trick. I do suspect that if they thought we’d kill them they’d take the deal.”
“We want those willing to move. We aren’t interested in guarding people who will try to run, or worse, sabotage our facilities.” Vayne heard himself confiding in a pirate captain and wished to call back the words. Except the man somehow was felt to be his equal, if not in birthright, then as a warrior. It was puzzling and something he needed to consider at a later date. His species didn’t tend to play well with others.
“Uh-huh. And the women are too old? Well, then I suggest we leave them locked in their quarters. Second deck will likely yield the same results. We’ve downloaded the computer files but they’re encrypted. So we don’t know everything, yet.” The pirate leader’s features gave away nothing but Vayne felt his thoughts and silent queries. The sovereign knew there were women on board, as he was privy to the manifest, and females of childbearing age were worth this risk.
Forcing a casual gesture, Vayne said quietly, “Best not look too closely, my friend. Speculation can be dangerous.”
Ristos regarded him with interest—and no real fear. It took Vayne aback. His threat had been unmistakable for such an intelligent man to discount it. “I don’t care what your game is, Sovereign, although I suspect it isn’t just about manning your facilities. If you want access to that deck, then you’ll have it.”
Accompanying the pirate captain, Vayne approached the lift. It was sizable but would hardly hold an assault force. Ristos clearly had the same opinion, motioning out the four pirates already there before heading in himself. He looked at Vayne, one brow raised in invitation, and Vayne stepped inside.
“Barek and Duff, you come with us. Want one of your troops, sir?”
Aware Ristos had deliberately not afforded him his title, now that others were within earshot, Vayne shook his head and ignored the look of concern on his guards’ faces. “Stand down. Aid in the clean-up and any transfers.”
The doors hitched closed on their startled faces and his stomach dropped as they fell to the lower deck, the whooshing sound of the lift very apparent in the silence. He sincerely hoped the difficulty with the systems didn’t extend to the conveyance, because being stuck like a lorat in a cage didn’t appeal. Nor did ending up as a broken bundle of flesh should it free fall. When it stopped without incident at its appropriate destination, he turned to the captain, hiding his sigh of relief. “Your plan?”
“Same as before, only with three blades. Whoever is on the other side can’t defend forever with whatever weapons they have. And with any luck my tech officer will have the repairs made shortly. If it wasn’t for that escape pod I’d counsel we wait.”
Standing back, Vayne observed as Ristos and his men inserted their long daggers into the crack between the doors simultaneously and began to pry from opposite directions. The pirate called Barek was a great hulk of a man, and he grunted loudly as his efforts offset the other two. Then he and Ristos staggered back, blades vibrating visibly in their hands. Duff almo
st immediately took one step back, but his blade didn’t leave the door completely. He resumed prying, but his weapon visibly shuddered, and he too retreated.
Curses filled the air, and Ristos turned a wry smile on Vayne. “It appears we have determined opponents, sir.”
Daggers at the ready, the three once again approached the crack when there was a mechanical sigh and the doors opened. Vayne spied a young, fair-haired male standing wide-eyed, his mouth dropping open as the pirates charged from the lift. Vayne followed on their heels, wincing as they mowed the young man down with a hit to the head, the impact throwing him into the corridor wall. Then all chaos descended.
A significantly smaller figure, dressed completely in black, waded into the triangle of pirates. It laid Barek low with well-placed blows to his knees and an uppercut to his jaw as he fell to the ground. The baton inflicting the punishment flashed in a blur of movement to match the warrior’s whirling grace. Vayne was already moving to assist when the fighting dervish dealt with Duff, body moving with grace and deadly intent, bringing the pirate down with punishment to his kidneys. Short black hair gleamed in the harsh lighting as the warrior spun to take on Ristos, who’d become tangled in Barek’s long arms as he sprawled, almost senseless.
Vayne used his shocker, nearly catching one slender, black clad shoulder as their opponent made contact with Ristos’ ribcage, the baton making a dull, wet sound in contrast with the captain’s growl of pain and rage. But the little warrior whirled out of range, turning to renew the attack, and the bolt spent itself harmlessly against the bulkhead. Vayne’s cock filled and stood at full attention, causing him considerable discomfort in his tight-fitting space uniform. By the shades of Turco, it was a female. And what a female. He locked eyes with orbs a brilliant shade of the golden gemstones so prized on his planet before she charged, moving gracefully on the balls of her bare feet.
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