by Reagan Woods
“Er – it was nice to meet you, Nora,” Natar said, making his escape.
“Yeah,” she muttered darkly, still acutely embarrassed. “I bet.”
When she glanced up, Lyon’s eyes were filled with something she suspected was pity. “This Z’cari, does he look like the rest of you?” She asked hesitantly.
“He is Lyaran,” Lyon replied as though that explained everything. “Though he is wounded right now and under the healing lights.”
Part of her primitive survival-mode brain functioned on a high enough level to realize this was the time to get answers – while he felt sorry for her. “Is that what you are? Lyaran?”
“Yes. We originated on the planet Lyara,” he answered.
“That’s an odd way of saying where you’re from,” Nora blurted with a frown. Maybe this translation system wasn’t as good as they thought.
He pursed his lips before explaining, “Our home planet was destroyed along with most of our population. So. We originated there but cannot return.”
Pity flared in her heart. She knew just how bad it sucked to lose the ones you loved. “I’m so sorry.”
“You are from Yurth, yes?” He prompted.
“Earth,” she corrected automatically. “It’s pronounced Earth. And I’d really like to go back.”
Chapter 12
Lyon had to work to keep his expression neutral. Nora, while still skittish and jumpy, was beginning to show some personality. Hopefully, he could help her settle her mind. Something about the way he’d first glimpsed her, shackled and bloody but still ready to fight, had punched through his armor of cynical reserve. No matter what the future held, he wanted to see her healthy, whole and happy.
“I have no idea where Earth is,” he replied in response to her statement.
She frowned, hands going to her hips as she considered that. “Can’t you, I don’t know, ask someone?”
This time, the smile spread across his face as he listened to the translation of her demands. “Whom would you suggest?”
A slim, tan finger crept up to pull at her lower lip. “I’ll have to think on that,” she finally said. “In the meantime, I have to find other clothing. This won’t do at all.”
She plucked unhappily at the fabric covering her hips. The gown she’d fashioned was disintegrating rapidly.
He frowned. “I’ve searched most of the priests’ quarters. There aren’t any spare garments – not that the Priests of Ashwamei are over-fond of clothing. They were docked and running on a skeleton crew, so no one actually lived aboard the ship – erm – aside from yourself, that is.”
“Well, I can’t roam around naked,” she protested, eyes sparking with frustration. “It’s cold – not to mention unsanitary.”
Her sulky expression drew a chuckle from him. It wasn’t a funny situation, but Nora’s face was so expressive. It was adorable.
Her eyes widened. “Well, it is!”
“I’m not arguing that.” He gestured toward the open doorway behind her. “I can spare a few minutes more to help you look. Perhaps I missed something. Besides, this is a good time to show you around the ship.”
Instead of moving out of the room as he indicated, she squinted up at him thoughtfully. “You’re kind of huge. Still, if you have a spare…whatever that is,” she broke off to gesture at his shipsuit, “I’ll gladly wear it.”
“This is my shipsuit.” He glanced down at the skintight silver with a mix of pride and sorrow. The technology in the suit was the last bit of Lyaran genius that he owned. Hash-Han needed to pay for what he’d done to Lyara, to the royal family and to all Lyarans.
“Wow,” Nora said quietly as she took a step back. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
Lyon met her gaze directly. “You haven’t. I would be happy to give you something of mine to wear – if I had any spare clothing. Unfortunately, I was unable to pack much while running for my life. As for my shipsuit, there simply aren’t any more to be had.”
Her full lips turned down and she patted his arm sympathetically – though she had to reach to do it. Smart female, she didn’t trust easily. “I didn’t mean to make you sad, either.” She walked toward the door before shooting an impatient look over her shoulder. “Let’s do this.”
He squared his shoulders and followed.
“Tell me about these priests,” she demanded as they made their way toward the rear of the ship, poking into the empty cabins as they went. He’d already checked here but was happy to re-check. Quickly.
She seemed totally unaware when he gently prodded her past the entrance of the priests’ trophy room. The weaponry housed therein was dangerous to the uneducated, which she obviously was.
“How did you come to be in possession of their docked ship? And just what or who were they priests of? They sure didn’t act like any priest I ever met,” the last was a dark muttering.
“They’re disgusting cannibals who worship a bloodthirsty goddess,” he answered succinctly, counting off the cabin doors in his head. The ship wasn’t large, but it sported several small cabins. “They ambushed my friends and I, so we killed many of them and stole their ship to make our escape from Xani. Z’cari, Natar’s mate, was wounded in the fray.”
“Uh…Xani?” She prodded, eyes wide and bewildered as she followed him into a musty stateroom. The priests clearly liked luxury but weren’t over concerned with keeping their ship ready for company. “What’s Xani?”
“The rogue planet we were on?” Lyon shot her a puzzled look before palming open a small storage area. As he feared, there was nothing but dust in the drawers, and the hanging pegs were empty.
“We were on a planet?” Nora paused just inside the stateroom door her mouth slightly agape. “Just where the hell am I?” The last appeared to be directed inward.
Lyon moved to the water closet and bathing area and gave it a cursory once-over. He’d been over the ship in every place a person could hide or stash a body as it had seemed prudent after their earlier discovery. But searching the smaller compartments in some of these cabins hadn’t been high on his list.
Still, the exercise seemed to be helping Nora. She likely needed something to do and someone to talk to. He wished he and Zocan weren’t so frustrated with one another just now. If they worked together, he had no doubt they could set her at ease soon enough and make certain their other problems were solved.
“Technically, we weren’t planet-side,” he clarified. “We basically spent time in the outer sphere and then ran to the priests’ private space dock.”
“That explains absolutely nothing,” she responded mulishly, her shoulder slumping dejectedly. “Can I just take this blanket?” She pointed at the bed’s thin heat-foil covering.
Lyon sighed. “You can,” he affirmed. “I don’t know how you’ll fashion a garment from it, but I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”
Nora shrugged as she trudged to the bed to retrieve her treasure. “It’s better than nothing.”
When they were back in the hall, she muffled a yawn with her hand. “I’m more tired than I realized.”
“You should lie down.” He stopped outside her cabin and waited until she stepped inside. “I won’t be far. Call out if you have a need.”
“Thanks, Lyon. I’m sorry I caused such a scene earlier. I was just surprised.” She looked so tired and worn that he had to stop himself from offering words of comfort. Anything reassuring would be a lie. The priests or the CGA assassin could catch up with them at any moment. The best thing she could do was to rest and regain her strength.
“Sleep well, Nora.”
Chapter 13
“What was all the commotion?” Zocan asked absently as he studied the star charts before him. The glare of the projections made his gritty eyes sting, so he’d turned down the lights in the cockpit.
Lyon had taken some time to rejoin him in the ship’s cockpit, and they needed to make some definite decisions, he thought irritably. The priests’ barge was well-armed with good shie
lds, but it wasn’t built for speed nor was it supplied for a lengthy voyage. They needed to change vessels or buy supplies if they had any hope of survival.
Several long beats went by and Lyon didn’t answer. The lack of response finally filtered through, and Zocan glanced up.
Lyon sat stiffly in his chair, his broad shoulders puffed up and legs braced wide. His yellow eyes glittered with rage. “You were supposed to tell Nora about Natar and Z’cari,” he growled, low and dangerous. “She unexpectedly encountered Natar. That was quite a shock for her.” He paused as though expecting a response, but Zocan’s mind remained preoccupied with the star charts.
Their options for restocking or acquiring a new ship were limited. Severely. No matter what they chose, danger awaited.
“Can you imagine how frightening that must have been?” Lyon pressed, drawing Zocan’s attention back to him. “She was trying to hide beneath the cabinets in the kitchen.”
“I forgot,” Zocan admitted, shame washing over him followed quickly by disgruntlement. Why should they have to babysit yet another female? This one couldn’t defend herself like Lara had, nor was she like Lacy, mentally prepared to aid in the possible fight to come.
She was just weak. It might not have been a kind assessment, but he was running low on kindness. And patience.
However, he had been positioned to spare her the panic attack and he hadn’t done it. “I wanted to pacify her and return to planning. I will apologize at the first opportunity,” he promised stiffly. He was in the wrong, but he didn’t see where it mattered in the greater scheme.
Lyon’s hard expression softened unexpectedly as he laid a hand on Zocan’s knee. “I feel like I’ve known your heart and your mind for all of our lives, but I cannot fathom what is going through your head right now. This callus treatment of a frightened female is not like you.”
Zocan felt the weight of his lover’s judgement like pressure bearing down atop his head. Was there not enough urgency in their situation without adding the need to coddle the screeching female?
He scowled. “I seem to be the only one able to keep my wits about me,” he replied, resentment boiling in his blood. “There is too much at stake to be worried about some helpless, oblivious female. We can’t save them all.”
Rather than respond to the challenge as Lyon was wont to do, he shot Zocan a pitying look. “We’ve been in worse situations,” he chided gently. “Yet, you’ve never lost your compassion – or refused to use your natural ability to put others at ease before. I hope you will speak of your feelings with me when you are ready.”
That rankled. The tension headache he’d been battling for days chewed merrily at his neck and shoulders while slamming a fist between his eyes.
“This discussion isn’t getting us anywhere,” he pointed out coldly. If Lyon wouldn’t give him an outlet for his anger, then he would freeze all emotion out of the situation. “We have to get out of this barge. The priests will catch up with us in a matter of days at this rate.”
“Agreed.” Lyon accepted the conversational shift with equanimity. “This ship wasn’t designed with war or stealth in mind.”
This growing frustration must be how Lyon felt when Zocan insisted on being rational in the face of his hot-blooded temper, Zocan thought with dark irony.
Lyon continued, “From what I’ve seen, the priests used it for parties of the hunting variety. I think they released the Novink,” he spoke of the four-armed blue males he’d found half-consumed in the freezer, “and hunted them down. I think they intended to do the same to Nora, but we got here first.”
The vivid image of Nora, covered in blood as she had been when they found her, terrified eyes wheeling as she scrabbled down darkened corridors took shape in his mind. Against his will, he pictured her running for her life from the bloodthirsty priests. He could almost hear her screams echoing in the darkened corridors as they chased her for sport. His stomach knotted. He knew the pitch of her terror because he’d heard it when she’d encountered Natar. What an ass he had been.
“Z’cari cannot be moved without taking great care,” Lyon continued, oblivious – or pretending to be - to his mate’s foul mood. “And – I’m not arguing with you on this,” he warned with a cold look of his own. “We cannot simply abandon Nora. We must take her situation into account as we plot our course.”
Zocan didn’t like it. She added a whole layer of complexity to every move they might make. But Lyon was in the right. “Fine.” He knew he sounded surly. He didn’t care.
“You’ve come to the same conclusion I had,” Lyon stated, nodding at the star charts on the large display screen.
This was another fact that pricked Zocan’s conscience. However, Lyon was correct. Again. “Yes. We must head to the black market on Coniru. It’s the only place close enough to acquire what we need.”
“We can be there within a few days.” Lyon manually input a series of commands into the ship’s display and the most efficient course lit up on the star chart.
Wearily, Zocan tilted his head. “Yes. This is the best course of action. We need to check with Natar on Z’cari’s progress.”
“The more eyes and ears we have, the safer we will be.”
Zocan snorted humorlessly. “There is no guarantee of safety – no matter how we plan.”
“Coniru is a dangerous place.” Lyon agreed soberly.
Chapter 14
Despite the fatigue that dogged her, Nora couldn’t settle once Lyon left her. Because it was there, she slipped the glossy blanket around her waist. In truth, it was more a throw or a decorative sash for the lower end of a bed, but it was thicker than the blanket on her bed.
There was enough of the blue-ish-white material that she could wrap it modestly over her lower half and still had enough to bring each end up over her breasts to tie halter-style behind her neck. The resulting dress left her back and arms exposed, but at least it was a step in the right direction.
She hated to keep fashioning primitive gowns from inappropriate materials. That was what she was reduced to. The shipsuits that Lyon and Zocan wore looked a good deal warmer and more comfortable than anything she could slap together. She thought longingly of her own worn jeans and brushed cotton shirt. They were probably still on Jorkan’s shuttle – wherever that might be.
Wearily, she sat on the edge of her bed and contemplated her bare feet. Shoes were next on her list. Her toes were purple with cold, so she curled into a ball beneath the blanket. The warmth of her new clothes combined with the blanket she’d already had helped her relax gradually.
Her thoughts drifted to her encounter with Natar and she cringed. Part of her embarrassing behavior had been a knee-jerk response to an unexpected stranger. The black pants, heavy boots and ragged vest he wore hadn’t helped. The way he looked and carried himself echoed the priests she’d encountered on this ship. They didn’t exactly inspire warm, fuzzy feelings in her heart. Abject terror was more like it.
Still, she needed to find him and apologize. Screaming like a mindless idiot wasn’t a good way to make new friends.
And she needed friends out here in wherever-the-hell-they-were because she couldn’t go home. In a few pithy words, Lyon had made it clear that taking her to Earth wasn’t an option.
What would they do with her? They hadn’t begrudged her food or water, so she didn’t think killing her was on their agenda. Were they fattening her up to sell her? Madre de Dios, she hoped not.
Zocan had seen to it that she had the run of the ship when he’d scanned her palm into the security center. Lyon had made it a point to show her around. So. Maybe they were good guys?
Her life in the Outside, the wastelands not under direct rule by either Earth super-power, had taught her a lot. She and her family had formed into a sort of caravan with various like-minded individuals. They’d moved around like nomads to keep out of reach of the Western Central Government thugs and the Pan-Asian Union insurgents.
Life in the Outside was hard, but she hadn’t
known any different. She hated the CORANOS Galactic Alliance with the fires of a thousand hells for forcing her into their work camp. Yet, she’d adjusted to life in the camp quickly enough. She’d known how to do things and had made friends. Then, Jorkan had taken her from the camp. Her time with him had been bad – he was a perverted, abusive bastard.
She’d escaped him only to find herself in the priests’ custody. The only good thing she could say about that was that she’d lived through it. So, it was a no-brainer that, in this scenario, Lyon and – to a lesser extent – Zocan were the best aliens she’d met. Or they were the most devious.
Now, more than ever, it was imperative that she be on her guard. If there was a way to influence her future for the better, she needed to find a way to do it. That started with finding Natar and apologizing. She couldn’t act like a ninny if she wanted to be treated with respect.
Resolve firmly in place, Nora set out to find Natar. If her stomach churned with oily anxiety, she wouldn’t let it show. She would apologize and make nice no matter what.
Lyon had mentioned that Natar was tending his injured mate, so it stood to reason he would be in a medical type area. She shuddered when she thought of the bodies they’d found behind the walls in the treatment room Lyon had taken her to.
She almost turned around when the mechanical voice of the translator boomed from some hidden speaker, “Nora, what do you do?”
“Uhhh…” She broke off, searching for a place to direct her answer. Finding nothing, she shrugged. “I’m going to find Natar?”
“He is in the main medical area,” came the helpful response.
“Um…thanks, I guess?” She frowned, turning in a circle as she tried to decide how to proceed. “Which one of you am I talking to?”
“This is Zocan.”
The impatient alien was Zocan. “Okay. I hate to be a bother, but…how do I get down there?”
A few meters away, a door slid open. “Go into the lift. I will alert him that he needs to collect you.”