Shattered Earth (Shamans & Shifters Space Opera Book 3)

by Jenny Schwartz

  She’d returned to her chair while he spoke. “I agree on the understanding that my mission to Earth comes first. I will attempt to shift only after I have confirmed that the prison camp there is closed. If I have to close it down myself, I won’t risk a mishap during my attempted shift interfering with my ability to do so.” Her voice was as cool as his.

  “Very well. I will map Earth’s sha energy flows and collect excess sha, while you complete your mission.” He glanced at the readouts on the screen. They were gobbledygook to him, but he could feel the chaotic energy of the wormhole lessening. “We’re exiting the wormhole. I’ll leave you to your piloting.”

  Kohia slumped back, fingernails tapping an irritated rhythm on her chair arm. The healer’s cold refusal of her offer to live a little annoyed and, yes, frustrated her. Why in seven hells would he think the two of them could have a relationship? And yet, his offence at her suggestion of something less than that was obvious. Couldn’t the man simply relax and have fun?

  She certainly couldn’t relax. Over the next couple of days, it had to be her imagination that now that the man had refused her, she could scent him throughout the starship. But imagination or not, his scent made her cranky. And when she walked into the recreation cabin and he looked up from the charts he was studying and his gaze stripped her bare, yet showed no emotion, she stalked to the food dispenser, grabbed a coffee and donut, and stalked back out.

  Sean, her intelligence officer, laughed under his breath.

  Damn wolf. He found her sexual frustration funny, did he? She whirled and stabbed a finger in his direction. “You. Gym. Ten minutes.” Combat practice was part of the crew’s routine, but she had to admit, today she’d really enjoy beating the know-it-allness out of Sean.

  It didn’t help.

  Kohia showered and dressed, and decided to double-check the Stealth’s mission readiness.

  The journey to Earth had sorted out one particular problem. Aaron, the Freel navigator, was no longer fascinated by Kohia’s beauty and propensity for violence.

  “Hami, I need you to test the radiation—Oops!” Kohia backed out of the bosun’s office, closing the door behind her.

  Hami’s desk hadn’t actually been designed for the test it was about to undergo, but it was sturdy enough to survive a bear shifter and a Freel’s energetic love-making. Fortunately, Kohia had interrupted before they’d gotten to the clothes-off, bump-and-grind.

  Kohia had only sauntered halfway down the passage before the door opened, and Aaron emerged.

  The heavily-muscled, blue-skinned Freel grinned at her as he finished rebuttoning his shirt. “Hami’s free now. Frustrated, though.”

  “You, rat!” Hami shouted from inside the office.

  “I’ll be back,” he called over his shoulder.

  Kohia returned to the bosun’s office to find Hami straightening the objects on her desk. “And here I thought I’d be ducking Aaron’s attentions the entire journey. Instead, he’s been shanghaied by my bosun.”

  Hami giggled, which was disconcerting. The woman had a reputation as a brawler and the scars to prove it. “Sorry, Kohia.”

  Had there ever been a more insincere apology in the history of the galaxy? Hami positively sing-songed the words.

  Kohia laughed and gave her friend a one-armed hug. “You’re happy.”

  “I am.” Hami grew serious. “It’s unlikely to lead anywhere…” Her tone said otherwise. She had genuine feelings for the Freel navigator. “But I like him. He’s comfortable with my scars.”

  Better yet, he obviously made Hami feel comfortable with them, too.

  Kohia was glad for her friend; glad enough that she bit back the question she really wanted to ask.

  How could Hami contemplate—as she obviously was—settling for a partner who wasn’t her mate?

  Chapter 3

  “I knew it.” Kohia kicked the base of the large table in the recreation cabin. “No one did anything. Gah! Sometimes I hate being right.”

  “No, you don’t. You love being right,” Hami said, but her heart wasn’t in her teasing. Like the rest of the crew, and Nairo, gathered around the large table in the recreation cabin, she was watching the Stealth’s scanning of Earth and frowning.

  Kohia had given Sean the coordinates, forwarded by Vulf, for the location of the prison camp he and Jaya had found on Earth. Even with a blizzard picking up, the intelligence officer had been able to direct the Stealth’s sensors to record a snapshot of the frozen surface for what had once been the banks of the Congo River. He’d also switched off the relay of the warning beacon that broadcast an alert that Earth was an abandoned planet, entered at a person’s own risk, and that removing anything from it was illegal.

  The heap of spoil outside the mine entrance looked raw enough—that is, barely covered by snow—to suggest that the warning beacon’s message was being actively ignored by those on the ground. Beside the spoil heap, and partially sheltered by it and a second hillock that was likely an older spoil heap, squatted a trampship. Trampships were the backbone of commercial cargo hauling in the galaxy.

  “Why wouldn’t they lift-off for space?” Aaron asked. “I’m no meteorologist and even I can tell this storm promises to be violent. They’d be safer in space.”

  Hami sat close beside him on the bench seat, thighs and arms touching. “Maybe they left it too late?”

  “Or the starship is grounded,” Clarke offered. “Can you enlarge the image?” the engineer asked Sean.

  Dissatisfaction clipped Sean’s voice. “No. This is as good as it gets.”

  Clarke blew out a breath and sat back, arms folded. “It could be that the prison guards are using the trampship as secure living quarters.”

  “That wouldn’t prevent them lifting off, would it?” Kohia asked.

  “It depends on how many modifications they’ve made to it.” Everyone waited, and Clarke got the message that more words were required from him. “Say, for instance, that they diverted power from the trampship’s engines to supply power to operations inside the mine, or…well they could have been truly reckless. The trampship is set down at an unusual angle, but one that would allow the service hatch to open into a hole tunneled up from below.”

  Aaron shook his head. “Disabling your own starship would be stupid.”

  “Stupid, if the guards did it,” Nairo said. “But if the owner wanted the guards to be as trapped as the prisoners…”

  They stared at him.

  Kohia tapped the image of the trampship on the screen. “I refuse to feel sorry for the guards, given what they’re doing, but that is a horrible thought.”

  “They’ll be desperate if it’s true,” Sean said. “If we offered them a way off-planet, maybe we wouldn’t have to fight them.”

  “Something to consider.” As much as she wanted justice for the people condemned to the agonizing death of this prison camp, she wanted her people safe more. A smart pirate captain only fought when necessary—and then, she fought ruthlessly. “We need more information. Are there other camps elsewhere on the planet, anything at all? Put the Stealth into concealed orbit around the planet. I want a complete scan of Earth. Also, watch for any transmissions or space traffic. We can’t take the shuttle in while that storm hovers over the camp, so we’ll learn what we can, now. When the blizzard passes, we’ll suit up.”

  Nairo was the first to leave the table. He hooked his long legs up and over the bench seat, and returned to his former position by the viewscreen on the far side of the cabin. Currently, rather than displaying a digital image, the screen had cleared to one-way glass. Nairo could see out, and although Earth was incredibly distant to the naked human eye, the shaman seemed obsessed by what he could perceive.

  He was sketching lines and occasionally scrawling notes. Evidently, the sha energy around Earth was fascinating.

  Kohia kicked the table a second time.

  Hami paused in getting up from it. “Talk to him,” she said under her breath.

  “That�
�s what got me into trouble the first time. Besides, we’re preparing for a mission.”

  “We’re prepared,” Hami said in her regular bosun’s voice. “Now, we’re just waiting for Sean to give us the word to go.”

  Kohia glanced at Nairo. She saw the back of his head as he stared out the viewscreen.

  His cotton shirt stretched across his shoulders. He sketched directly onto a digital tablet, his hand moving without his eyes following the stylus.

  “What do you see when you look out there?” she asked.

  He turned at her approach. As had been the case since they’d exited the wormhole, his eyes showed no emotion when he looked at her. He was as remote and shut off, as cold, as the nuclear winter on Earth.

  No matter how carefully and silently she approached him, she never surprised him with her presence. Just how much did his shamanic vision show him? Could he track her and her crew via their auras?

  “The sha energy circulating Earth is intense. I think it’s stable, but the patterns are strange.” He glanced down at the tablet’s screen and amended the sketch.

  Kohia nudged his feet off the chair opposite him and sat down. She ignored her crew’s curiosity, although she was aware that they watched her. They’d never witnessed her fail to get her man.

  Yet Nairo rebuffed her effectively. Even when she’d pushed his boots aside, he merely adjusted his posture and refocused on the one-way glass of the viewscreen.

  “So, what? It’s everything or nothing with you?” she demanded. Hami was right, drat the woman. Kohia and Nairo had to talk, they had to clear the air, so that Kohia could focus when she led the incursion team planetside.

  Except, Nairo wasn’t playing. “When our ancestors fled Earth, they left behind an uninhabitable planet. Tiny remnants of life survived in the deepest parts of the ocean or underground. Bacteria survived. But that wasn’t enough to balance the flows of sha energy. With life gone, the sha rivers tore loose of their usual pattern. Then Jaya recently exploded a huge amount of sha on Antarctica. The astonishing thing is that the current pattern seems stable.”

  Evidently, he wasn’t going to discuss anything personal with her. She’d have taken issue with that, except that as both captain and potential test subject for shifting, he was right to update her on the sha energy status of Earth. “Does that mean you can’t siphon off sha energy here for your collection?”

  “No. There are hints of a pool of sha energy proximate to the South Pole that would probably benefit Earth by being drained. I’ll check when the Stealth’s orbit brings it into view.” He shrugged one shoulder. “I could probably pull sha directly from the streams flowing around and through Earth without causing any instability. Planetary systems are robust. Either way, we’ll have enough to attempt to trigger your shift.” He looked at her then. “If you’re still willing to try?”

  As if she ever backed down from a challenge. “Just as soon as we’ve closed down the prison camp and shamed the Galactic Police into picking up the prisoners—and potentially the guards,” she added, thinking of their discussion around the table. The guards, even if they’d voluntarily signed on for that cruel job, could be equally as stuck as those they guarded.

  “All right. Be careful down there.” His mouth closed to a thin line, and he turned back to the viewscreen.

  She hesitated. There were no more preparations to be made before the mission. She could drive Sean nuts by hanging over him as he analyzed the incoming data from the Stealth’s scans, but she trusted the intelligence officer.

  What she wanted was a cuddle with Nairo. It didn’t have to be sexual. She craved the contact. Although why her tiger insisted the touch had to be with him, she didn’t know. But the animal was certain. It wanted his…forgiveness?

  No, not forgiveness. That would imply that Kohia had been wrong to clearly state her boundaries, and she hadn’t been wrong. She wasn’t offering anything more than a temporary affair. She was waiting for her mate.

  Inside her, her tiger snarled.

  “Oh, shut up,” Kohia muttered.

  “Pardon?” Nairo actually glanced at her.

  “My tiger,” Kohia said, too accustomed to being with other shifters to censor her words. “She wants a cuddle, from you.”

  “Uh.” His mouth opened, but no coherent words came out. He closed it. Then he very carefully laid aside his tablet and stylus, his gaze remaining locked on Kohia.

  The intensity of his focus puzzled her. Nor did a subdued snicker from those at the table help matters. “What?”

  “If your tiger needs a cuddle, from me…”

  Now, why did he have to add that “from me” in his deliciously low voice?

  “Then come here.” He actually patted his knee.

  Kohia would have ignored him on principle, just for that patronizing knee pat, except that her tiger had other ideas. Kohia’s powerful leg muscles launched her up, and the next instant she was falling into Nairo’s lap.

  He caught her with surprising deftness. Even more surprising was how the blank remoteness had vanished from his face. His eyes positively blazed with emotion.

  Shocked to see such raw need in him, Kohia failed to protest his brazen arrangement of her body until she rested comfortably within his embrace. And by then it was too late. Her tiger had been right, the hussy. Cuddling with Nairo soothed the tension that had been making Kohia scratchy. For the sake of the mission and its smooth running, she snuggled closer. Yeah, that was her excuse, and she’d fight anyone who called her on it.

  Nairo stared out the viewscreen, but the way his fingers caressed her stomach said he hadn’t forgotten her.

  She stared out with him, not seeing the sha energy he studied, but content to inhale his scent and simply be with him.

  “Storm’s clearing,” Sean called from the table.

  Kohia snapped back to captain mode. “How long?”

  “Forty minutes, maybe a bit longer.”

  “Suit up,” she said. If Sean had detected any other data useful to their mission, he’d have mentioned it. “Plan A it is.”

  Her crew ran out of the recreation cabin.

  Nairo’s arms tightened a moment around her.

  She could break the restraint easily. Instead, she glanced at him.

  “Come home safe,” he said.

  Now was not the time to kiss him. She nodded and he released her.

  Sean and Clarke would stay aboard the Stealth. As their intelligence officer, Sean was more valuable feeding her information from here. Plus, he was her co-pilot. If the Stealth needed to move suddenly, say to evade an enemy, he could and would handle it. For a similar reason, Clarke remained aboard. The engineer was essential to the Stealth’s functioning. He was also a gunner with a high kill rating.

  Clarke walked with her along the passage, heading for the engine room. “We’ll keep him safe.”

  “Who?”

  The middle-aged chief engineer punched her arm. “Your mate.”

  Chapter 4

  Her mate! Nairo couldn’t be her mate!

  For a minute Kohia’s brain stuttered, while her tiger roared inside her, expressing frustration at Kohia’s doubt and slowness.

  Then Kohia shut it all down.

  The Stealth had a mission to complete and she had a duty to her crew to lead them safely into the frozen jaws of Hell and out again.

  She suited up. The space combat suit had been designed by the Sidhe for their Star Marines and provided the most flexibility, without compromising protection, of any humanoid suit design that Kohia had encountered. It had been modified on Corsairs to interface with the Stealth’s systems, and her Uncle Rick’s Jekyll Industries had added a few shifter-specific weapons. Shifters were trained to fight in styles that suited their animal selves. As Kohia’s suit sealed, she zinged the diamond tipped claws on her gloves. They were deadly in close combat.

  The trampship could be the main power source for the mine, the guards’ quarters, or simply planetside delivering cargo or loading the i
rradiated gold produced by the mine. Whatever its purpose on Earth, it wouldn’t be the incursion team’s first target.

  From onboard the Stealth, Sean would block any transmission from the trampship or other communication systems within the mine. Clarke would fire a warning shot if the trampship attempted to launch. His second shot would disable it. The rules of piracy were simple: you limited the damage you inflicted on enemy starships because once you won the battle, they were your prize. So Clarke would place his shots carefully. For the same reason, the incursion team Kohia led wouldn’t attempt a hostile boarding of the trampship unless forced to, since breaching the hull would allow in Earth’s radioactive atmosphere, requiring a full and expensive decontamination.

  So the incursion team was leaving Sean and Clarke to manage the trampship, and focusing their attack on the mine itself.

  They strapped into the Stealth’s shuttle. Its concealment technology was not as comprehensive as the Stealth’s, but it was unlikely to be detected by anything the mine or trampship possessed. Kohia and her team would go in with the advantage of surprise.

  Surprise, if brutal enough, could demoralize an enemy. If the guards could be persuaded to surrender, the mission would be over in hours; requiring only a monitoring role from the Stealth while they waited for the Galactic Police to recover the survivors of the mine.

  That was the best case scenario.

  Kohia prepared for the worst.

  She set the shuttle down to the side of the mine, on the far side of the spoils heap that sheltered the trampship and out of direct firing line from the mine entrance.