by Reagan Woods
“Oh! I don’t want to be a bother.” There was no reply. After several long moments, she shrugged and stepped into the little room.
Seconds later, the doors slid back to reveal a harassed looking Natar. This hall seemed narrower than the one two floors above. The walls here were a dark grey with the obligatory grisly scenes in sprawling, monochromatic glory.
“You didn’t have to leave your mate,” she told him apologetically as she joined him in the creepy corridor. “I would have made my way to you.”
His yellow eyes widened as the translator relayed her words. “Why?”
Nora cleared her throat and squared her shoulders. If he wanted to do this here and now, she was fine with that. “I came to apologize,” she waited a beat for the mechanical voice to do its thing. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I simply didn’t expect you in the kitchen and I reacted…badly. I’m sorry.”
Natar’s narrow mouth curved in a small, strained smile. “You in no way offended me, but it would be impolite of me not to accept your apology.”
“Well, then, we can be friends,” she pressed, holding her hand out to him expectantly.
He studied her offering dubiously. “What?”
“It’s a custom among my people to shake hands when they’re making new friends,” she insisted, grabbing his hand and pumping it up and down vigorously. Just as quickly, she dropped his hand and stepped back. “Would you like me to sit with your mate for you so you can get some rest?” She offered politely. “In the spirit of friendship,” she clarified.
“I’m not comfortable being away from Z’cari for long,” Natar admitted, giving the translator time to catch up. He motioned her to follow. “But I would appreciate it if you would sit with him while I shower.”
“That’s what friends are for.”
Chapter 15
Zocan scowled as he listened to Natar and Nora chatter easily. The soft tones of their voices, punctuated with strategic pauses for the ship-wide translator, made him acutely aware of the passing time. He’d learned quite a bit about their unwanted guest over the last few hours.
If her story was true, she was far more resilient than he’d given her credit for. He would reserve judgement on that though. There were holes in her tale so big he could fly a warship through them.
She seemed intent on making up with Natar after her earlier outburst. Try as he might, he couldn’t find fault with the way she’d handled herself since. It took moxie to both face something that had frightened her and to step up and take onus for the situation when she was in a dubious position.
He sighed and snuck a glance at Lyon who sat beside him in the darkened cabin. The glow of the star charts cast his face in handsome relief while highlighting the smug set of his mouth.
Catching his gaze, Lyon raised one golden brow. “Surely, we don’t need to continue to monitor their conversation. That’s invasive, don’t you think?” He paused, his scrutinizing perusal making Zocan shift uncomfortably. “However, I know Nora is tired,” he continued breezily. “I think it would be wise to escort her back to her cabin and perhaps explain who we are and where we’re going, don’t you?”
Zocan turned his attention studiously to the faintly glowing instruments, automatically falling back into the routine of checking each gauge for progress readings before moving to the next. He did it because he was the pilot in command, not because he was avoiding spending time with the female. “If you’d like to collect her and see her back, go ahead,” he bit off tersely.
“Actually,” Lyon began, “I was thinking you could use a break. I’ll take over here and you can use the opportunity to apologize.”
They both knew the ship had auto pilot; however, they couldn’t be sure they’d deactivated all homing devices, automatic recalls that could hijack them by altering their coordinates, or other sneaky tech that might get them caught by the priests. It was smarter to always have a designated pilot in command – just to be safe.
“Nora wasn’t really in the wrong and yet she had the grace to face Natar and apologize to him,” Lyon prodded.
“When you put it like that, I don’t see another choice,” Zocan grumbled, pushing reluctantly to his feet.
Lyon grinned unrepentantly, standing as well. “That was the idea.” He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Zocan’s mouth, his rough palm tenderly cupping Zocan’s cheek. Pulling back, he continued, “I know you don’t want to like her. We’ve lost too much, and those wounds are raw. That makes it hard to get close to new people. I understand…but I won’t sit here and watch you become bitter and mean. That isn’t the Lyaran I fell in love with – and it isn’t how my king comports himself.”
Zocan thought on Lyon’s words as he silently made his way through the ship. His mate was correct, Nora didn’t deserve scorn, derision or to be discounted. Yet, there was no denying that she was a burden.
Aside from the fact she was an unknown quantity with dubious origins, she was another mouth to feed and another body to keep safe. They couldn’t spare anyone to stay on the ship with her when they docked at Coniru. Neither could they arm her and take her into Coniru’s subterranean black market.
Females were sought after as pleasure slaves, as potential breeders, and to fill any number of unsavory roles in places like Coniru. Even Lara, a tough and experienced fighter, would have willingly remained aboard the ship during a run to this outpost.
However, he didn’t feel confident that she would remain safe. Or that her existence would remain secret. Harboring a female – having the degenerates that frequented Coniru’s market find out they had access to a female – might cost them their very lives.
Just thinking about this logistical quagmire gave him an ulcer. He wasn’t the type to dither over a decision or to bemoan fate, but damn was he tired of having the universe slam him down every time he tried to rise.
Approaching the door to the medical facility, Zocan slowed. A wave of utter exhaustion broke over him and he sagged against the wall. He needed a moment to order his thoughts away from eyes that saw too much.
When it became apparent that the crew of the Nom’magata was going to have to split up to avoid the CGA assassin, he’d felt an uncharacteristic relief. He needed time without the mantle of responsibility to his people or to his crew. He also needed time to process that Lara wasn’t in their lives any longer. Selfishly, he had felt an almost savage glee in the idea of running away with his mate and spending a few weeks or even months reconnecting on some primitive, untraveled world.
That potential period of rest and recuperation punctuated with bouts of hot, sweaty sex had vanished in the span of a few hours on Xani. Now, if his bedraggled team made it off Coniru alive, they would have to stagger back to the closest Lyaran enclave. It was the best option right now. He needed to confer with the few elders that remained.
Yet, there was a distinct possibility they would lead enemies right to their people’s door. And if they still had Nora along, that added a whole extra layer of complication. They couldn’t trust her with their identities or their true mission because she was an unknown quantity. It all circled back to the fact that they needed to ditch the Yurther.
“Zocan! Are you alright?” The solicitous tone was obvious beneath the hard sounds of Nora’s native language before the translator even conveyed her concern.
He straightened, keeping a hand on the cool wall for support. “I didn’t hear the door open,” he muttered. “I’m here to help you back to your room.”
Nora’s dark eyes widened and then she sent him an uncertain smile. “I was just coming to find you.”
He frowned. “You were?”
She nodded, her smile growing wider. It was a nice smile, he thought bemusedly. Her straight, white teeth gleamed and the hint of dimples in her round face gave her a sweet, honest appearance. With some weight on her, she would probably be quite attractive.
“Z’cari is awake!”
It took a moment for the translator to work and another for her words
to penetrate his foggy brain. When they did, he stood up straighter. “Wait here. Please,” he tacked on absently as he strode through the medical facility’s still-open door.
“Um. Sure,” he heard the translator say as he palmed the door closed.
Chapter 16
Nora stared, taken aback, at the medical facility’s smooth, silvery door. From this angle, she could barely see the multi-breasted tentacle goddess whose image seemed to adorn every flat surface on the ship. That, at least, was a relief. With time, she might be able to tune out the disgusting scenes all together.
Troubled, she chewed on her thumbnail as she puzzled over what to do. Zocan asked her to wait for him, so she would. In the meantime, she didn’t think she could stop herself from worrying over what he might want with her.
She was tired and edgy – she fully acknowledged it – and she had no doubt that the aliens were equally exhausted and moody; however, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Zocan just didn’t like her. That didn’t bode well.
Though no one had come right out and said it, Zocan was the leader of these pirates. Some things were just so obvious they didn’t need to be stated. He exuded power. The serious lines of his handsome face made her doubt that he ever smiled.
Over these last days, it had become abundantly clear to her that he was overburdened. And, though he was always polite, it was obvious that he saw her as an annoyance, a gnat to be swatted away at the earliest convenience.
Her stomach churned. Every time she thought she was taking a step in the right direction the universe threw her a curve. She’d believed the Doranos in the camp when he’d told her she’d earned a promotion to another camp, and she’d found herself a hostage aboard an alien warship. Then, Nora had felt bad for Arianna when Jorkan had beaten the smaller woman, so she’d thrown herself into the fray when he’d tried to kidnap Arianna. That had gotten her a one-way ticket out of her solar system with a sexual deviant. When she’d stolen Jorakan’s ship from the space dock, she’d nearly starved to death and woken up a prisoner to the freaks on this ship.
Now, she was trying to ingratiate herself with the impatient aliens, but she had a bad feeling that it wasn’t working. What would it be this time? Was Zocan going to announce they’d found a brothel to sell her to? Or would he just throw her out the nearest airlock?
The longer she stood there – alone with her racing thoughts – the more she fretted. She was a nervous wreck by the time Zocan rejoined her in the hall.
“I’ll escort you to your cabin,” he told her tersely, not bothering to look at her as he pulled her along by the upper arm.
He released her once they were inside the lift. Instinctively, she rubbed cold fingers over the warm patch of skin he’d gripped. She studied him intently, trying to get a read on his mood.
He hadn’t hurt her, but his expression set off alarm bells in her head – it was the look of someone intent on completing an unpleasant task. The faint sneer he always wore in her company was firmly in place, though the skin around his eyes didn’t appear quite as taut as it had before he’d gone in to see Z’cari for himself. She had to surmise that meant he was less stressed now that Z’cari was on the mend.
“It’s nice that Z’cari is better,” she commented, watching him for a reaction as the translator hissed.
His yellow eyes cut to her and narrowed perceptibly. “It is,” he agreed. “Here we are.” He gestured for her to proceed him as the lift doors opened. “Z’cari’s awakening is fortuitous,” he continued, clearing his throat as he ushered her toward her cabin. “We have set a course for Coniru and will arrive in a matter of days.”
Nora stopped in the middle of the corridor, forcing him to stop with her while she contemplated the meaning of his news. Her head tipped to the side as she regarded him. “I don’t know anything about anyplace other than Earth,” she admitted apologetically. “Where and what is Coniru?”
“It’s in a red-dwarf system that borders the Dead Zone,” his explanation was impatient. “We cannot continue on this ship. It isn’t supplied for a long trip and it is far too recognizable. Coniru’s market is teeming with unsavory characters, but there is always someone willing to make a trade or a sale.”
“Ah,” Nora said with an understanding nod, her wispy hair tickling her bare neck. “When do we leave?” She asked brightly. The fake smile she plastered across her face hurt her cheeks, but she was going to be an enthusiastic team member if it killed her.
“You will remain with the ship while we make the arrangements,” he told her, bracing his legs apart as though preparing for an argument.
“I will?” She asked dubiously, her smile fading into a frown.
“Coniru is not a safe place for you. The things for sale in the market aren’t strictly legal in most systems, and the people who sell them are quite unsavory,” he answered succinctly. Motioning for her to continue walking, he added, “If you have a wish to die badly, Coniru is the place to do it. Otherwise, you will stay on the ship and await our return.”
They came to her door and he politely, if impatiently, waited for her to open it.
“How do I know you will come back for me?” Her voice cracked as she asked the question, but she held his gaze unwaveringly as she waited for the translation to catch up.
His mouth flattened disapprovingly before he answered, “I give you my word. Unless we are killed, we will collect you before we move on from the space port.”
Nora extended her hand expectantly. “Shake on it.”
Zocan’s top lip curled once more as he eyed her outstretched palm. “What?”
“It’s a way of promising,” she persisted. “Shake on it.”
He squeezed those odd eyes shut for a moment. When he opened them, he tried to take her right hand with his left.
“No,” she batted his hand awkwardly and reached for the opposite one. “Like so.” She demonstrated, pumping his hand up and down once.
He didn’t look happy but kept her hand in his until she shook him gently off.
“Thank you, Zocan,” she murmured, stepping into her cabin before turning back to him. “You four are the only people in my universe right now. I know I’m needy and scared, and I’m sorry that makes you so uncomfortable. I’m trying to be better.”
He acknowledged her words with pursed lips before nodding once, precisely. “Your reactions are understandable. That doesn’t make them convenient,” he intoned slowly. “I respect the effort you’re making to hold your emotions in check. Tomorrow, after we’ve rotated through a shift and Lyon and I have had a chance to rest, someone will make sure you’re familiar with the ship’s defenses. I want you to have a fighting chance even if we fall on Coniru.”
“That’s good of you.” Instinct had her reaching for his wrist. “Don’t fall, alright? I don’t think I can handle that.”
After he left, Nora trudged to the bed and flung herself down. There were a million questions running through her head, but they could wait. She was well and truly exhausted.
Chapter 17
On the viewscreen, Coniru loomed ominously. They were still several hours from the planet, but already Nora could see the surface was black and empty.
She hovered just outside the cockpit where Zocan and Lyon toiled. Their hands and eyes flicked here and there busily, but Nora had no idea what they were doing.
Each had tried to teach her about the ship but being unable to read the alien glyphs hindered her progress. She’d fallen woefully short of learning anything useful. Physically, she’d always done well under pressure. A fast-paced learner she was not, and frankly, hypothetical situations had never been her strong suit.
“It doesn’t look like anyone is home,” she chattered nervously as she leaned forward to study the feed. She’d almost manage to block out the conversational lags due to the ship’s translation program. It still made things tedious, but it was better than not understanding one another.
“It is scorched from a time before its star collapsed into
a red dwarf,” Lyon explained patiently, scrubbing his broad palm through his already messy hair. “Like many of the inhabited planets, the only life on Coniru is alien. Whatever plants or animals were here before are long dead and the surface is uninhabitable. Everyone takes shelter in caverns beneath the surface.”
“There are a lot of planets like this?” She asked, eyeing the ugly sphere dubiously.
“Millions,” Zocan grunted from his seat.
Lyon smiled easily as he answered more in-depth, “Many civilizations have lived to watch their atmospheres boil away – or so it is supposed - as the inhabited planets aren’t conducive to life as it is most commonly found.”
“Maybe that’s why the invaders want Earth so bad,” Nora commented thoughtfully.
“Your planet remains green?” Lyon asked as he visibly refocused on his task.
“Not exactly,” she hedged. “The Last Great War took its toll, but Earth is definitely in better shape than that place.”
“I can see why you want to return,” he stated sympathetically, if a bit absently.
Nora drew a steadying breath. “I would love to go back,” she admitted. “However, I’m not a fan of being ruled by the CGA.” Her words sounded bitter to her own ears. No one commented, and she relaxed at the lack of judgement. She’d been sure one or the other of them would tell her that inferior people were meant to be ruled over by the more advanced. “If there was a way to go back and avoid those assholes, I’d probably do it.”
Zocan and Lyon shared a brief, speaking look.
It was Zocan who focused his attention on her speculatively, “If you do decide you want to go back, we will do what we can to help you find a ride. I can’t guarantee that the effort will be timely as we’re on the run ourselves.” The last was offered grudgingly – as though he anticipated great difficulty but felt compelled to help.
Something about his answer didn’t add up. “You’re running from the priests after you kicked their asses and stole their ship?” She asked incredulously. Over the last two days, she’d gently questioned each of the four aliens separately. It surprised her that Zocan was so worried about the priests of Ashwemi. The cannibals didn’t strike her as organized enough to be a threat to experienced pirates. Clearly, she was missing part of the story.