by Liz Craven
His body had been long and lanky when she had last seen him, but the man before her was not the awkward boy she once knew. His chest had filled out, making him easily three times her width. His upper torso tapered to a lean waist. Body armor hugged trim hips and strong legs. The red emblem of an elected planetary official gleamed on his shoulders.
He barely glanced at her, and the feeling of disappointment that swept over Lia surprised her. She hadn’t wanted him to recognize her and had no business feeling hurt because she had gotten her wish.
As she studied him, he glanced at a soldier behind him and jerked his chin in her direction. A man with blond hair and the flush of youth still in his cheeks stepped towards her. He smiled at her—the first courtesy ever offered to her in the rep’s office—and extended his arm.
“This will only take a moment,” the young soldier assured her.
Staring at the device he was holding, Lia took a cautious step back. The rep still had a death grip on her arm—her fingers were going numb—so the step was small, but it was enough for the soldier to hesitate.
“What is that?” she demanded, relieved she sounded angry rather than panicked.
“It won’t hurt.” His tone was polite, if condescending, but he didn’t lower the device.
“What ‘won’t hurt’?” Lia snapped out.
The young man actually blushed. “It’s a simple DNA scan. It will take less than five seconds, and you won’t feel a thing.”
This time Lia wrenched her arm free from the rep as she leaped backwards. “Absolutely not.”
“I promise it won’t hurt,” the youth reassured her.
“I said no.”
Then he spoke, and he had the audacity to sound amused. “Madam, we are looking for someone. The DNA scan will help narrow our search by eliminating you. We will compensate you for your time.”
She snorted. Even if they gave her money, the rep would be the one “compensated” for her time. “I still refuse.”
“We must insist.”
Ignoring the furious glare of the rep, she stood her ground. “Under League privacy laws, a DNA scan cannot be compelled unless an individual is under arrest. Am I under arrest?”
He lifted an eyebrow. She resisted the urge to reach up and yank it back down.
“You are not under arrest—” he conceded.
“Then I am free to refuse the scan.”
“Neither are you in League territory,” he continued. He gestured towards the youth. “Caden.”
Lia’s stomach sank. They had her. League laws meant nothing on Tmesis. The only thing she could do was endure the scan with dignity.
The young soldier stepped forward, pointing the scanner at her.
Dignity be damned. With fury fueled by fear, Lia kicked out, knocking the scanner from the unsuspecting soldier’s hand. She spun and darted for the door.
She didn’t make it three meters, before slamming into another one of the soldiers who had circled around to block her path with inhuman speed. Her breathing hitched when she took in his glowing red eyes, wide-spread jaw, and sharp pointed teeth. An Inderian. A proud and fierce race of warriors steeped in tradition, blood feuds, and honor. If their inherent skills weren’t enough to inspire fear in those they met, the rumors of ritual sacrifice and cannibalism were. They rarely left their home system, but those who did usually hired out as assassins.
Were the soldiers seeking her out to ensure her death?
The Inderian turned Lia to face the others, lifting her completely off her feet to do so, and she hated that her face was flushed. The impromptu flight embarrassed her. Where did she think she was going? There weren’t a lot of hiding places on a barren moon. Especially when you needed pesky little luxuries like water. Fortunately, the dirt and grime smearing her face hid her blush. At least she hoped they did.
He stood in the same place, his arms crossed and that infuriating eyebrow still cocked, making no effort to hide his amusement.
Caden held the scanner again, his gaze flicking back and forth between Lia and his commander who met Lia’s narrowed eyes for a brief moment before nodding.
Caden approached her cautiously, like drawing near a nest of vipers. Lia felt a crazy urge to laugh. The Inderian held her immobilized. She could barely turn her head, much less attack a trained soldier. She wasn’t fooling herself. The only reason she’d succeeded in kicking him before was the element of surprise.
No miner in their right mind would attack a League soldier. Lia supposed that meant she was no longer in her right mind. Not that it mattered, seeing how they were probably going to kill her.
She had feared for her life for as long as she could remember and had half-expected to feel relief at finally facing death. She didn’t. She was pissed-off, plain and simple. And under the anger, her heart ached that the one good thing she remembered from childhood—this cold and amused man—was an illusion.
An illusion that was probably going to kill her.
Caden pressed a button and a beam of orange light moved over her. The crucial procedure took mere seconds. The light disappeared, and Caden began inputting data into the scanner.
Scrapping together what little dignity she had left, Lia addressed the Inderian. “You can release me now.”
A nod from their leader, and she found herself standing on her own two feet. The Inderian shifted behind her and she knew he prepared to catch her if she bolted. He needn’t have bothered. With the scan completed, she felt oddly resigned and drained of energy. With her anger gone, the long day, the cave-in and her injury finally caught up with her. Not to mention the strain of the last five minutes. She wanted to sit down. Actually, she wanted to curl into fetal position. She did neither.
A pair of boots stepped into her field of vision and she looked up into the face of the man from her past.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” The brisk tone lacked warmth, but Lia sensed he was trying to be kind. Her anger had amused him. She wondered if her dejection bothered him.
She decided to answer his question honestly. “Yes, it was.”
He blinked, and she realized she had surprised him. Instinctively, she knew very little surprised this man.
He inclined his head politely. “I apologize for the inconvenience.” He hesitated before dropping his voice to prevent the rep from overhearing. “We only seek to find a missing person. The scan will be used to eliminate your DNA as a match for hers. Once done, you will be free to go. We will not be passing scan results on to authorities or storing them in any public database. Your privacy and secrets will remain intact.”
He thought her a criminal afraid of being caught. She was about to surprise him again.
He turned away from her, dismissing her. “Caden, I believe we have taken up enough of this young lady’s time. Record her as a non-match and reset the scanner for the next subject.”
“I can’t,” Caden sounded nervous.
“You can’t? The scanner is malfunctioning?”
“No, sir. I just ran and reran a diagnostic on it. I also ran the results four times,” Caden rushed to assure him.
“Then what seems to be the problem?”
“There’s no problem. It’s just that…” He hesitated.
“That what?” the commander barked.
“I’m a match,” Lia said wearily. “I’m your wife.”
—
Talon’s world tilted, before slowly righting itself. The roaring in his head subsided as he turned to look at the small woman who had uttered such quiet, yet momentous words.
“She’s right, sir. She’s a match.” Caden’s voice turned reverent. “We’ve found her.”
Until that moment, Talon had not realized he never truly expected to find her. But whatever he had anticipated, it was not the small, filthy woman who stood huddled in rags before him with a fading fire in her eyes.
She was shorter than predicted, the top of her head reaching only to his shoulders. Her head was wrapped in a ragged cloth, and he wondere
d if she had shaved her head as many miners did to keep cooler in the mines. Her body appeared shapeless in the heavy, protective clothing she wore. Dirt and grime smeared her heart-shaped face, making her skin blend with the filthy, drab clothes.
Her brilliant, starburst eyes seemed out of place in such a nondescript package. The outer iris burned with the color of blue flame, while the inner iris, surrounding her pinprick pupils, was an unusual yellow-gold. The emotion blazing in those uncommon eyes surprised him. Fury and fear had warred within their depths while she fought like a wildcat against a simple DNA scan. Now her eyes reflected a despair and resignation that made him want to comfort her.
“Who is this person, Lia?” The rep asked, sounding confused and worried.
“Talon Dhakir, First Minister of N’yota.” Her voice was devoid of emotion.
Talon carefully kept his face blank. If she knew his title, she had to be following current events on N’yota. How had she come to be stranded here? Why had she not sought to contact them? Had she been unable to call for help?
He pushed the questions aside. None of that mattered right now. She was safe and would return with him to fulfill her destiny.
Aware of the Guild rep’s presence, he chose his words carefully, hoping to reassure her. “Damaia, we have come to take you home.”
To his surprise, anger flared in her starburst eyes, and she responded in a clipped tone, “Indeed.”
The Guild rep took advantage of the momentary pause that followed her short response and grabbed her. The man’s shocked expression was almost comical when Talon’s soldiers drew blasters on him.
The sight of the rep’s fingers biting into Lia’s arm caused rage to rush up, almost choking Talon.
“Take your hands off her,” he bit out, letting that rage infuse his voice.
The rep jumped back, his hands held up. “I meant no offense,” he sniveled, an amazing feat given the man’s size and deep baritone. “The Guild would never knowingly shelter a League fugitive, and we willingly surrender Lia to your custody.”
The rep’s ingratiating attitude and outright lie had Talon speaking through gritted teeth. “Her ladyship is no fugitive.”
“Lady—” The rep’s mouth dropped open and panic showed on his face.
Titles were rare within the League and usually synonymous with power. When the Guild learned the true extent of this miner’s title and power, the rep’s days would be numbered. That suited Talon fine.
Dismissing the rep, he turned back to the Damaia, offering her his arm. “Lady Ophelia, allow me to escort you to our transport. Once we dock with the Wrath of Aegir, we can break orbit within an hour.”
“My name is Lia, and I am not leaving without my things.”
He expected her to be excited, even joyous at her rescue. He didn’t understand the hollowness of her voice and obvious lack of enthusiasm at the prospect of returning home. He did understand pride, and for that reason he refrained from telling her she would no longer have need of mining clothes or tools. Anything she needed would be provided for her.
“I’ll have her things brought to your transport,” the rep offered.
“I will get my own things, and I want to cash out my credit account,” Lia announced before Talon could respond.
He hoped the irritation on her face indicated her returning spirit. “We will escort Lia to her lodgings, while you obtain her credits.”
Lia shook her head. “I want to wait for the credits.”
“Then we will wait.” Talon gave the rep a pointed look.
The rep fled the room with such haste he almost tripped over the doorway.
Talon studied the woman before him. Their fates had been intertwined since the day she was born, and he desperately wanted answers to the questions that had plagued him over the fourteen years she had been missing. However, the answers to those questions might impact his home world’s security, and he knew the rep would have wired his office for sound and image. The questions would have to wait.
Instead, he gave Lia an abbreviated bow, believing a formal acknowledgment of her position would help convey the fact she was being rescued. He received a glare for his effort.
Tamping down his annoyance, he decided to introduce the soldiers with him. “Damaia—”
“Lia.”
“Lia,” he corrected. “May I present Vardin of the Inderian Motherland.”
Vardin saluted, raising his arm across his torso and thumping his chest with his right fist. Lia nodded at him. She showed no fear, looking the warrior directly in his eyes. Talon knew that impressed Vardin. Hardened human soldiers often trembled in his presence. That this short female would meet his eyes earned her a small measure of the Inderian’s respect.
Talon gestured to the silent soldier behind him. “This is Thane Msaka of the Central Alliance.”
Thane stepped forward, saluted, and moved back into the shadows to stand with an air of boredom, despite his unnatural stillness. Talon wasn’t fooled. Thane’s sharp eyes missed nothing, his reflexes deadly.
“This is Caden of N’yota.”
The youngest soldier all but leaped forward. “Damaia, I am honored to be one of the chosen who brings you home.” In his enthusiasm, Caden forgot to salute. “Damaia, you shouldn’t worry about a few mine credits when you have the wealth of N’yota at your disposal.”
Talon felt, rather than saw the Damaia stiffen. Her face was turned away from him, but whatever her expression, it had Caden taking a sharp step back. His smile faded.
“I do not care to leave my hard-earned credits in the hands of the corrupt.” The soft tone delivered the words with a punch.
Fortunately, the rep reappeared, saving Caden from having to respond. Without preamble, he rushed forward and shoved an envelope into Lia’s hand. Lia opened the envelope, and to Talon’s amusement, began counting the credits. Her actions showed a fundamental understanding of Guild operations. He waited patiently for her to finish counting her earnings, knowing it would all be there. The rep’s intelligence was in question, but he wasn’t suicidal.
Lia reinserted her credits. “It’s all here.”
“Caden, Vardin and I will escort you to your lodgings. Thane will wait with the rep,” Talon knew Thane would understand the unspoken order to question the rep. From the look on the rep’s face, he understood Thane’s orders as well.
Lia gave a brief nod and left the office without a word. The three soldiers followed her into the barren heat of the moon.
It took fifteen minutes to walk to the miner’s shanty town. Even though the terrain was flat, the wind kept the moon’s red sand kicked up, effectively blinding them to the buildings they approached. The sand obscured their vision to the point Caden even bumped into the first structure they passed. The hot sand scoured their skin like a sandblaster. Talon wondered if he’d have any exposed skin left by the time they reached her living quarters. Despite the conditions, Lia lead the soldiers unerringly to the front of her lean-to.
The door hung loosely on the jamb, more propped against the building than shut. The interior of the shanty acted as a barrier against the howling wind, but its metal construction amplified the heat.
Talon shoved his eye shields up on his head and blinked errant grains of sand from his eyes. Lia stepped to the center of the room and pulled a string hanging from the ceiling. Weak light filled the room.
Even his earliest childhood memories, those of life during the war, didn’t contain the squalor in which the Damaia lived. A thin mat lay against one wall, a ratted blanket folded on top of it. A makeshift pillow made from rags sat on one end of the mat. What appeared to be a change of clothing lay folded on top of the blanket. The floor lacked any covering. Several thin metal pipes leaned in the corner. A ewer of water and a cracked bowl sat next to the mat. The far wall had an even rattier blanket spread across something of indescribable shape.
Vardin gave the room a cursory glance before returning to stand guard outside. He closed the door behind him, redu
cing the wind’s roar to a rumble.
Lia stood frozen in the center of the room, the light cord swaying above her. She turned those strange eyes to him. “How did you find me?”
“There is a locator chip implanted in the nape of your neck. Unfortunately, it is not a long range transmitter. We had to use probes to find the signal. The search was further complicated by the xyreon ore which interferes with the transmission,” Talon explained.
Her hand flew to the back of her neck. “A transmitter?”
He thought he understood the reason for her anger. He was furious himself. “There is no excuse for what you have suffered. More protective measures should have been taken.”
Fury etched her features. “They implanted a chip in my neck? I’ve been tagged? Liked a pet?”
“It was a security measure designed for your protection,” he replied. He hadn’t considered she would be offended by the device, but her feelings on the matter were immaterial. Her security took precedence over her emotions. He wanted to drive that point home, but refrained, aware of Caden’s presence. Caden was eager, but he had a mouth that ran like a mountain brook. He would have to shelf the discussion of her safety until they were alone.
She sneered at him, and he had the random thought that her ability to communicate without speech would serve her well in politics.
Lia knelt beside the lumpy blanket, her movements jerky with anger. She used one hand to flip the blanket back, revealing several pieces of ornate glasswork.
“Where’d you get those?” Caden breathed, as Lia began gathering the pieces onto the blanket.
She shrugged. “I made them.”
That surprised Talon. Even in the dim light of the shanty, he saw the work was intricate and detailed. He moved closer to study the pieces as she lifted them.
“How’d you do that?” Caden asked skeptically.