For the King

by Reagan Woods

  Zocan stopped outside a small door and palmed it open. It appeared to be some sort of utility closet stocked with unfamiliar items. “None of the doors on this ship are secured right now,” he mentioned casually as he reached in and withdrew a pencil-sized piece of metal. “We will input our palm prints into the cabin doors for propriety’s sake, but you should be able to move about freely.”

  “Uh. Okay.” She blinked rapidly at the attitude shift. Maybe these Lyarans had decided she was trustworthy after all. The thought perked her up. There really might be a place here for her.

  “This is a healing wand.” He held up the thin cylinder for her inspection. “Now, hold still,” he commanded. “This won’t take long, but if you move too close to the light it can burn.”

  He slid his thumb up the wand and it crackled once before settling down to a low, electrical hum. A rectangle of light shone from the end and she held still as he moved behind her and began to pass it over her skin in slow, steady motions.

  “It – it tingles,” she said with a shiver as her skin pricked and heated.

  “That means it is working,” his voice, normally clipped and a little snotty-sounding, took on a soothing, sing-song quality that even the translator’s harsh tones didn’t overshadow.

  “Is Lyaran difficult to learn?” She asked curiously.

  Zocan paused his ministrations.

  “Woah.” Nora cringed away as the wand suddenly got very hot against her neck.

  Zocan made a disgusted noise that the translator didn’t bother with. “Apologies,” he said roughly, pulling her back to stand in front of him when she would have spun to confront him.

  “If you don’t want me to learn your language, you can just say so,” she joked awkwardly. “There’s no need to burn me twice.”

  He ignored her poor attempt at humor. “I think learning Lyaran is a splendid idea,” he denied smoothly. “I was going to suggest you start the sublims shortly.”

  “What’s a sublim?”

  “A type of hypnosis that helps you transition - .”

  “Nope,” she cut off his words mid-translation. “I’ll learn the old-fashioned way. If there’s a tutorial, I’ll take it. I’m not getting brainwashed again.”

  “Brainwashed?” He paused. “No. This is a proven system for quickly and accurately assimilating a new language into your current lexicon.”

  “No. Thank you,” she remained firm. The magic wand had helped immensely, but she wasn’t grateful enough to get put in another situation where alien men could manipulate her subconscious.

  She really wanted to make her place here, to belong. That could never happen if she constantly feared that her subconscious was being manipulated. The assimilator at the CGA work camp had been all the proof she needed that aliens could take an appalling subject – like serving as a bed slave for your Doranos master – and convince you it was an honor. Granted, she’d been resistant on that front, but she had a stronger sense of self than most, too.

  This time when she pulled away to face him, he let her. His face was set in lines of consternation, so she attempted to explain, “I don’t care if it is more difficult my way. I’ve learned and spoken three Earth languages in my life, and I know enough to get by in many others. I’m not afraid of a little hard work.”

  “I’ve known of one other Earther who learned Lyaran as you’re suggesting,” he said at length with a slight bow of his head. “She was a psychic, so it was easier for her to pick thoughts and meanings out of our heads initially.” He cocked his head, mouth flattening in the familiarly skeptical expression he often graced her with. “If this is what you wish though…”

  Nora checked the urge to punch him in his handsome face. “I don’t even know where to start,” she gritted, holding a hand up, palm-out to indicate he should give her a moment. “You knew another Earther?”

  “I’ve travelled with two Earth females before,” he answered. “I don’t see how that pertains to our discussion.”

  “Were you going to tell me…No. It doesn’t matter.” There would be time to explore how it was possible that these aliens knew about Earthers yet couldn’t say Earth. She also really wanted to know more about a supposed psychic from her world. True psychics were thought to be mythical, but her mother swore her grandmother had been one.

  Nora shook her head and got back on track. “I don’t want anyone messing around in my head. That’s the important thing. No mind manipulation, got it?” She emphasized the last with a hard poke to Zocan’s very solid chest.

  His eyes dropped pointedly to her finger before returning to meet hers. “It shall be as you wish. If you change your mind, you have only to say so.”

  “I won’t,” she assured him hastily.

  A wide smile curved across his angular face. Nora caught her breath. This was the first time he’d smiled at her and really meant it.

  Her face heated with confused pleasure. She’d made him happy somehow and that approval warmed her in places she hadn’t realize were so cold.

  He turned and replaced the healing wand in the small closet before waving it closed. Then, he caught her arm and pulled her around to walk with him. “I think there’s time for you to answer a few more questions before I set you up with a tutorial.”

  “Erm – alright,” she agreed dubiously as he was already marching her toward the rear of the ship. She wanted to shrug out of his grip and stomp her foot in consternation. There was always another hurdle with these people. Instead, she gritted out an almost-pleasant, “What do you want to know?”

  “I think it’s best if we get this out of the way when we’re all together,” he answered breezily.

  Nora thought about the conversation they’d had on the bridge earlier and focused on containing her disappointment; this whole trust and camaraderie thing wasn’t going to be easy.

  Chapter 33

  Lyon wasn’t entirely comfortable with the current set-up but Zocan was adamant that the small crew, such as it was, have out their doubts and differences at once. He shifted restlessly atop the supply crate he sat on as he waited for Zocan to collect Nora.

  They were holding their meeting in the cargo area aft of the Tetraglide’s main hall and private cabins. Vrenti had seen them more than adequately stocked for their journey as a quick perusal through the cargo bay had shown. Stacks of black crates stuffed with dried foods and medical supplies lined the long, skinny bay like soldiers awaiting inspection.

  It was unlikely that Vrenti would have wasted so much in the way of deep space rations if he’d intended to sell the Lyarans out. That was something to ponder and debate if Z’cari and Natar didn’t throttle back their complaints about Nora.

  Lyon eyed the mated pair across the makeshift conference table of stacked crates with mixed feelings. Natar vociferously and adamantly blamed Nora for the fact that they’d been tracked by Hash-Han’s Warlords despite the dearth of evidence.

  The door hissed open and Zocan pulled a bedraggled Nora into the tense silence of the bay. Z’cari’s mouth flattened in a disapproving line that pulled the puckered scars on his cheeks. Natar’s golden skin flushed with rage, but he held his peace as Zocan seated Nora atop a crate and rested a hip against another.

  “We’re going to ask direct questions,” Zocan told Nora sternly, holding her gaze as the translator finished coughing out his words in her language. “And we expect direct answers.”

  Clear-eyed, Nora didn’t waver as she scanned the faces in the room. “As long as you’re willing to answer my questions in the same fashion, I’m fine with that.”

  Like Nora, Lyon watched for reactions. With the limited lighting and the midnight crates, the scene was rather grim. Z’cari’s worried glance at his mate and Natar’s dark expression didn’t lighten the atmosphere one iota.

  Without preamble, Zocan asked Nora, “Did you have anything to do with the Novink ship that followed and attacked us? Are you signaling our position?”

  Nora laughed as the translation finished, a not
e of hysteria in the sound. “Are you joking?” She rolled her eyes and shook her head, pursing her lips disappointedly when Zocan simply raised an eyebrow. “You’re not joking. Madre de Dios. You people are the worst.” Letting out a sigh she answered, “Of course I’m not signaling our freaking position, pendejo. Do you think I want to die? The point of all of this for me is to stay alive!”

  “Then why were they following us?” Natar broke his silence to ask heatedly. “How have we managed to evade the Novink for so long only to narrowly avoid them now? I’ll tell you how,” he rolled through whatever answer she drew breath to give. “You’re working with them!”

  Nora’s dark eyes widened, and her dusky cheeks went rosy. “You’re an idiot if you believe that,” she told Natar vehemently. Turning to Lyon, she appealed for information, “The Novink are the four-armed guys we found dead in the priest’s meat locker?”

  “They are,” he confirmed, pleased to see she was standing for herself as well as seeking information in the face of Natar’s accusations. “They’re also Hash-Han’s fighting force.”

  “Hash-Han is the Emperor of the VENTIX, right?” She clarified with a frown. “The guy who destroyed your planet? I’m guessing he used the Novink to do that?”

  “That is so,” Lyon answered, sending a warning glare at Natar as he opened his mouth to interrupt the exchange.

  Smoothly, Zocan took control of the conversation once more, “You can understand why a run-in with the Novink might be upsetting to some of us.”

  Nora’s shoulders relaxed a fraction. “Of course,” she answered, sympathy in her eyes. “I think it is far more likely that Hash-Han has been tracking you over time.”

  “Are you implying that we’ve been careless in our security?” Z’cari barked heatedly, finally jumping into the fray.

  Lyon was acutely aware of time passing. The autopilot was solid, but he didn’t like trusting the scanners to their own devices. They needed to move this along. “I think we all realize that it is far more likely that the CORANOS hunter hired the Novink Warlords to track us for him after the debacle in the Dead Zone,” he cut in. “I don’t think Vrenti would have let us go if he intended to sell us out. He put too much into this ship when he simply could have held us. So. Either the Novink tracked us alone – without a carrier – which we know is unlikely, or the assassin sent them for us. It is that simple to my mind.”

  When Zocan would have wrapped the time-suck of ameeting up, Lyon continued, “It is ludicrous that we’ve wasted this time interrogating Nora when we should be planning how to evade whatever or whoever must and will come after us next. If it was the CORANOS assassin, the Novink ship was likely a test to see what we would do. He’s probably looking to track us back to the settlement. That means we mustn’t go there.”

  “I’m telling you we simply need to get rid of this one,” Natar gestured to Nora, “and we will be free to continue on as planned. They can’t track us without her. I know she’s behind this.”

  “How can you be sure of that?” Zocan cut in, shooting Lyon a quelling look.

  “My instincts tell me this,” Natar insisted, his eyes firing with conviction. “They haven’t failed me yet.”

  Nora’s head was turning rapidly from side to side and she appeared perplexed as the translator’s delay likely made it harder for her to attribute words to speakers. “Woah!” She held up a hand and faced Zocan. “Are you seriously going to kill me based on ‘a feeling’?”

  “No,” Zocan replied easily. “I think Natar and Z’cari have been depending on themselves for so long that they’re understandably suspicious of new people.”

  “This isn’t paranoia,” Natar barked, rising to his feet. “I’ve spent more time with her than you have. Mark my words, she’s going to get us killed.” He turned and stormed from the room.

  Nora’s face paled but she boldly regarded Z’cari. “The time I spent at your bedside was out of sympathy and kindness. I certainly wasn’t trying to harm you or Natar,” she told him quietly.

  Z’cari nodded and pushed to his feet. “Please forgive his hard words. My mate has dealt with much lately.” He looked to Zocan. “I will go after him, offer what comfort I can, if it pleases you.”

  Zocan flicked his hand in the air indicating assent. “That is probably for the best.”

  Chapter 34

  Nora drew in a deep breath and tried to quiet her thundering heart. Could they hear it, she wondered? It seemed to echo off the metal ceiling and bounce against the tall stacks of black boxes until it reverberated loud enough to drown out all other sound.

  She’d been stricken by the vehemence, the hatred in Natar’s eyes when he’d turned on her. Granted, they hadn’t known one another long, but she’d thought they were becoming friends. The time she’d spent attempting to cultivate camaraderie and trust was clearly unwanted and unappreciated despite his earlier claims to the contrary.

  Lyon and Zocan studied each other intently as though they were having some sort of telepathic conversation. Nora shrugged. For all she knew, they were. Not her problem. She wasn’t going to sit docilely by while men decided her fate yet again.

  Snapping her fingers, she waited until both sets of yellow-gold eyes focused on her. “There is a lot I don’t know,” she allowed. “So, I’ll just ask straight out: is there some way of scanning me for transmitting devices like the ones Natar suggested I was using?”

  Lyon smirked and scrubbed a hand through his short, white hair. Instead of answering, he turned to Zocan and crossed his thick arms over his chest.

  Zocan met her gaze unflinchingly. “We scanned you for weapons and transmitters when we found you.”

  Nora dug deep for the calm she knew she had in reserve. Getting knocked around during the fire fight had scrambled her up a bit and she was having a hard time finding the willpower to hold her shit together. Finally, she settled for, “I’m guessing Natar missed all that with Z’cari’s near-death experience.”

  “Perhaps,” Lyon acknowledged, tilting his head thoughtfully. “Perhaps we should go through the exercise again to appease him.”

  Zocan, leaning negligently against a taller crate with his elbows braced behind him, quirked a brow but remained silent, tacitly leaving the decision up to her.

  She knew she wasn’t transmitting their location, so while the insult burnt, she would suck it up and put everyone’s mind at ease. If she wanted acceptance and belonging, she expected she’d have to work a bit harder for it, to run the race so to speak. These Lyarans clearly weren’t going to make this easy for her. Might as well get this part of it done.

  Nora nodded. “Let’s do it,” she said decisively, moving to stand. “No point in letting Natar stew any longer.”

  Zocan straightened, tossing his long golden braid over his broad shoulder casually. Beneath the silver suit, long, lean muscles rippled. Nora’s mouth went dry. She wasn’t sure if it was attraction or fear that had her heart pounding now. One thing was certain, she couldn’t afford to mess this up. She took an unintentional step back and came up against a wall of muscle.

  Jumping forward, she put a hand to her heart. “Mierda. You move quietly,” she squeaked as Lyon reached out to steady her after startling her half to death.

  “Let us get on with it.” He gave her shoulder a friendly squeeze as he propelled her out the door. “I’m sure there is a handheld scanner in the supply closet.”

  “I saw one earlier,” Zocan agreed.

  They were walking so close on either side of her that she could barely make out the pearl-grey walls of the tubular hallway that circled around the guts of the ship to where she assumed the other sleeping cabin was. The small medical supply closet was a quick march from the state room they’d all shared briefly and that was where they steered her after collecting a six-inch by four-inch box from the closet.

  Nora preceded the two Lyarans into the cabin. She’d been too groggy to really take a good look at the space earlier. The triangle shaped room had a low, sloping ceilin
g. The bed, a huge mattress wedged into the far point of the triangle took up a fair amount of space in the cabin leaving a narrow walkway with the sonishower tube gleaming at one end. A clear-fronted cabinet or closet snugged into the final point of the room.

  “Strip and stand with your hands out to your side,” Zocan commanded absently as he and Lyon bent over the scanner and did something to cause a green beam to flash out of the top of the box.

  “It needs to be calibrated for her size,” Lyon muttered as he pointed to something that only the two of them could see.

  Zocan grunted and moved his hand over the front of the scanner. The green beam became a smaller, more focused ray of light. “No. That’s too…yes, there.”

  Lyon glanced up and elbowed Zocan. “Why aren’t you preparing for the scan?” The later asked with a frown.

  “I think we all know taking my clothes off is superfluous,” she argued, crossing her arms defensively under her breasts.

  The sneer on Zocan’s face should have infuriated her, but she recognized it as impatience with the situation rather than with her. “We aren’t interested in violating your person,” he snapped, widening his stance and mirroring her arms-akimbo posture.

  Nora rolled her eyes. “Are you telling me that scanner can’t scan me through these clothes?” She fisted handfuls of the slick fabric of her pants and shook them for emphasis. “That seems unlikely.”

  Lyon lifted the scanner toward Zocan and grunted as he pointed out some feature. Zocan relaxed and rolled one shoulder in a careless shrug. “You might feel a bit of heat since we have to adjust the beam for your clothing.”

  Letting her hands drop to her sides, Nora gave a nod of assent. “Alright. Let’s do it.”

  As soon as the translator relayed her words, Lyon stepped closer. “Hold still,” he commanded. The green beam of light turned red and widened into a shallow cone. The light began to flicker as it travelled from the tips of her boots up her body.