by Layla Stone
He would need a week, at least.
“When my team gets to that planet, I’m ordering them to seize your ship. Be ready to be boarded and to hand over your command. Transmission over.”
Pax wanted to say something, but Vivra was speaking to Clalls again, giving him the coordinates of the rogue Federation ship. After that, she whirled around, still typing, but she finally addressed him. “I’m busy, Commander.”
She looked it.
Pax couldn’t leave yet. He needed her eyes, her attention. Yes, she was busy, and he understood why he didn’t get the information until just a little bit ago. It wasn’t a game. She was just working.
She wasn’t playing him. He felt that truth. Innately. His chest constricted. A genuine Bolark?
“I see that. And I’m actually impressed.”
Vivra stopped typing. Her lips pursed, and her eyes slowly cut towards him. Had Pax found a certain Bolark’s soft spot? The air fairly hummed with the electronics and her focused and unexpressed rage towards him.
“You’re impressed?” Her tone mocked her sincerity. “Because I’m a Bolark, or because I’m female? Or both?”
He didn’t answer.
“In one short day, I’ve been assessed and given a level of ability. And in less than ten hours, I’ve exceeded that level of ability and impressed you.” She patted her heart. “That makes me …”—her expression morphed from a smile to a look of concern—“fear for the Federation’s future if someone with your in-depth abilities has made it to the rank of commander. Really, it’s very alarming.”
Her words, no doubt meant to cut him, did nothing but make him want to grab her face and bite her for being so damn sexy. Really, there were no words for how her gold skin brought out the ire in her green eyes when she was pissed.
And because he couldn’t stop himself, he responded with, “You’re right, it’s very encouraging. Demons are a cut above the rest. We’ve been known to have spot-on first instincts,” he added with a slow, arrogant smile.
If her eyes were phasers, she would have shot his face off. “Why are you still here, Commander? I have nothing more to offer you with regards to the planet.” The tension in her face, shoulders, and stance told him how much she was keeping the better part of her anger in check. Her words, though…those seemed to come out regardless.
Returning to her screens, she brought up a picture of a dark grey planet. Taking her hands, she widened the image to full screen and then double-tapped the center.
Deciding to follow the conversation back to Brica too cool her tirade, he said, “You’re going to keep an eye on the Merimore, right? Let me know what it does when it touches down. We’re going to need to tag it when we get there.”
Her words were barely a whisper through clenched teeth. “Of course.”
Pax was a Demon, Vivra was his current obsession. Which is why he couldn’t stop pushing her. It was ingrained in his race when pursuing a bed partner. He needed his hooks in deep to make any emotional memories she had, something she would never forget. “Most likely, the Merimore is going to try and take off before we can reach the planet. We will need to alert the other Federation ships and set up a perimeter so it doesn’t get very far.” The task would have properly fallen to Clalls. Being communications officer, he should be the one to set up the perimeter, but Pax wanted to spin the orders and really dig in to see how far he could push Vivra.
She shook her head and said with her voice almost breaking, “I know how to do my job, Commander. Once I do my job, I will inform you. Now, get out of my office.”
He held up his hands. The heat in Vivra’s eyes almost had him panting like a little pup. So close. She was going to snap, and he needed to see it. Needed it to be him that did that to her. “All right, all right, but one more thing, I also think now would be a good time to talk about that whiskey.”
Vivra’s sharp and unyielding gaze snapped to him. She reached down and grabbed something from her side pocket, then pulled it out and pointed it at him. “So help me, Seth of Stars, if you don’t get out of my office, I’ll remove you myself.”
A weapon. Nice. Pax exhaled slowly, feeling the victory in his blood tingling in his heart and through his veins. This was her first instinct. To fight back. And not to threaten his rank, but his body.
Could she be any sexier?
He needed to bite her. Hard.
But he also recognized a pixy pistol when he saw one. It was not an actual gun but a blast of magnetic glitter putty. And once it landed on you, it would spread until it consumed you. It’d kill you if you didn’t stop the spread. Asphyxiation by sparkles.
Dropping his hands, he backed up. “Well played, Viv. I’ll wait for your message.”
She held the pistol on him until he backed all the way out of the room and the door slid shut.
Chapter Seven
Trust Has A Reputation
Sixteen hours into her workday, Vivra’s stomach was rioting, and her headache had worsened. She needed food. She needed something to drink, and a trip to the bathroom to relieve herself.
Her fingers shook as she continued searching for answers on Brica.
She’d planned to let Pax seduce her, but after this afternoon, she’d probably strangle him while she rode him. Killing the commander was likely frowned upon. Especially since he was a part of the elite crew the captain had brought with him.
Whenever there was a shift of command on a ship, it was smart to find out who the captain favored. They would be his most loyal crew. Rannn brought six with him.
Yon, another Yunkin who used to be the primary pilot. Vivra had checked his records. He had perfect accuracy and never lost a ship.
Sasha, another pilot who was brand new to the Federation. The female looked Terran, but according to her file, she was half Kooyon, a race Vivra was not familiar with, but it was known they had stunning pilot abilities.
Ansel, the captain’s Numan medical officer. So far, Vivra had concluded that he was well informed and generous. Which reminded her to take her daily vitamin.
Next was a Cerebral named Sci. One of a telepathic and telekinetic race who were forbidden in Federation space let alone on a Federation ship. Vivra couldn’t see why Rannn had brought him. It made no sense, and it freaked her out a little to have one aboard.
Reaching behind her neck, she felt for the small, white disk that was a cerebral blocker. It would inhibit the Cerebral from hearing her thoughts and turning her into a mental slave.
Sands was a cyborg that Rannn had assigned as lead of engineering. Interestingly, he wasn’t a Federation cyborg, and his cybernetics didn’t look familiar. Vivra didn’t find much in his file other than that he had been brought on as a FAVII by the captain. But he had gained access to the ship’s system before given authority. That was curious.
Then there was Pax, the Red Demon. A tactical and weapons expert. By the look of the scars on his hands and his jaw, she could only assume that he had been in a few fights. Which…kind of turned her on, truth be told.
Maybe she should call him and see if he wanted to meet her in the galley for a drink before...
Vivra stopped typing when she heard the door to her office open. She reached down to grab her pixy pistol before looking at the intruder. Pulling it out, she pointed it at the door and then realized that it wasn’t Pax. Clalls had stopped walking towards her desk, both of his hands up. One clutching a blue bag.
Trying to think of a reason for him to be in her office, she determined that he was here to apologize for not doing his job. Since she was the one who’d caught the Merimore.
Frustrated, she returned the pistol to her pocket and continued her quest for who was responsible for updating the archives on Brica. All of them…fifty years old. Not one file had been updated recently.
Clalls cleared his throat. “Permission to enter with offerings of Niffy juice and three ready-to-eat bula pastas.”
Her stomach fluttered excitedly at
his offering. Just the thought of eating three bula pasta packets sent her blood into a ravenous state of hunger. But more to the quandary…why did Clalls bring her food? Is this a Night Demon trick?
When she didn’t respond, Clalls frowned. It looked genuine, and Vivra felt a small pinch of guilt. Maybe it wasn’t a trick.
Clalls pulled out a packet and walked it over to her snack area and set it in her warmer. Then he pulled out the four Niffy juice packets.
Half a moment later, he lifted his head, smiling a big predator smile with glistening teeth and a mischievous glint to his eyes. From his other pocket, he pulled out a small, red, hard algae candy.
She stopped typing to get a better look.
Bolark candy?
Vivra moved away from the circular desk and ran to Clalls. The Night Demon’s smile fell when she jumped at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “You amazing Demon. How long have you been holding onto that?”
Clalls barely tapped her back, looking uncomfortable with the physical contact. She let him go and snatched the candy, unwrapped it, and popped it into her mouth, savoring the spicy and sweet flavor. Unwilling to suck too long, she crunched it between her teeth and swallowed it down. The little bit that coated her tongue was a wonderful, short-lived heaven.
The treat had revved her insatiable hunger. She grabbed the bag and dropped the last two ready-to-eat meals into the warmer. She unscrewed the top of the fizzy juice with its hyper-focusing properties and drank it down in a gulp. It was almost too good to be true, Clalls being the one to offer her this amazing harvest.
But then she remembered that he never gave until he received. And she had given by alerting him about the Merimore.
It took her less than five minutes to polish off all the food and juice. Once she’d finished, she settled on the top of the desk and felt the warmth of the food spread throughout her body. Happiness is food. “Food. Is. Good.” Words were hard. Almost impossible when the heavy tomato sauce and the algae pasta slowly warmed every inch of her cold heart. Her stomach ache was now gone, and her headache was quickly disappearing.
She just needed to soak up the moment.
Clalls grabbed his neck. “You’re welcome. And, thanks for catching the unauthorized ship.”
That’s what she figured he was paying her back for.
So, it was a recompense, but now that she’d eaten, she was more than happy to have his apology. “I have no idea if it will be the last. I can’t find any shipment manifest on Brica’s archives. It’s like the planet doesn’t exist, and yet, operations are still ongoing.”
Clalls dropped his hand. His black eyes with their yellow irises dulled a bit. “Out of the thirty-eight mines on that list, five had the same contact information. When I talked to the commander of those mines, he told me that all he does is make sure the shipments get out on time. No documentation. And,”—he fanned out his hands—“the mine workers are subcontracted, the security is subcontracted, and the workers are brought in by private companies. He is not given any information at all. All he cared about was making sure the workers were healthy, the rations were distributed quickly, the security guards were professional, and the shipments went out on time.”
So Clalls didn’t drop the ball. He was just as lost on his own tasks, and he didn’t pay attention to who was coming and going.
Clalls continued. “We don’t have any satellites on that planet. But I was able to intercept a few quantum messages from the commander who ran the Cenlura mine.”
Clalls was too smart and too careful to let a comment like that out unless he wanted her to know.
“And?”
The side of the Demon’s mouth curled up. “And I think I’ve found out who’s responsible for Brica.”
“Who’s that?”
Clalls pulled out his Minky pad and typed a few things then brushed the top bar of the program he was using. Three of her Minky screens winked out, and another image showed on them.
She took a step towards her desk instead of cursing that he had hacked her system again. She hated that he was able to get into her files so easily. If he messed with any of her shipments or manifests, it would mean her job. He knew she hated it, and yet he still did it.
It was what made their—albeit loose—understanding of each other hard to process.
If she told Captain Rannn about Clalls’ hacking and breaches of privacy, she didn’t know if she would get the same results as she had with Captain Mosel. Being dismissed and demoted.
Clalls covered his tracks too well, and she could likely never prove it. Even now, she wondered if he knew that and was flaunting it in her face.
But if he were showing off, why was he doing it by revealing someone else’s secrets. With that thought in mind, Vivra wondered if he didn’t even see it as an issue. As if he had already earned some right to take over her system.
Bolarks had a conflict of culture, which made working in the Federation difficult. Yunkins were all about honor, and Bolarks were known for being competitive, driven, and willing to succeed at all costs. Clalls was more like a Bolark than a Yunkin in that sense, but he also was unpredictable and hard to read, which made him more Demon than Yunkin or Bolark.
Clalls answered, bringing her thoughts back to the present. “Admiral Orin.”
“What?” It was on the tip of her tongue to deny it, but then again, Admiral Orin had given Captain Rannn the orders for the planet. How would he know about the commander who’d sent a quantum emergency message if not…directly to him?
Vivra was still quietly pondering the ramifications when Clalls added, “I’ve scheduled a meeting with the captain in the morning to go over this, in hopes that he calls Admiral Orin out for being dishonorable. I mean, he’s pretty much the center of this whole thing.”
Vivra swallowed. “Yunkins are honor-bound. I don’t understand how he could let this happen to the planet.”
“Yunkins pretend they’re infallible. I’m an example of their fallibility. Born to unknown parents, left in a zoo on Marnak with a note saying: Needs a loving family. You can think whatever you want about the so-called honorable race, but you’ll never convince me they are.”
It took all of Vivra’s willpower to not show him pity. It also cut into her belief system. Yunkins were honor-bound. She had seen it over and over again. She resented it sometimes because it didn’t suit her self-imposed codes of conduct. But, all in all, Yunkins could be trusted. And Clalls had just cut that trust, her belief, in half.
Focusing away from his woes, she said, “I’ve been searching, and I can’t find much about anything regarding Brica’s latest mining operation. But I did do a little research on Merimore. It’s not a Federation ship, but it’s been Federation vetted. They take contracts from all over the universe, and they are known for always meeting their deadlines. The captain’s going rate is ridiculously high.”
Clalls typed something on his Minky, and she wondered if he was going to look into the Merimore, too. That would be an inefficient use of his time, but she wasn’t his boss. “So that was what I was working on instead of monitoring the Merimore.” The original images popped back up on the Minky screens, and Clalls slipped his pad back into his side pocket. Perching lightly on the desk, he crossed his arms, looking at her expectantly.
“Is there more?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Is there?”
Narrowing her eyes, she had no idea what he was getting at. This was why Clalls bugged her. He was never straightforward.
“If you have a point. I think you should make it.”
He didn’t take his eyes off her, then after several long moments, he half smiled, but it looked forced.
The whole creepy smile thing just irritated her more. “What?”
“This could have been your shining moment. You fixed what I blundered. And you stand there as if everything is fine. Even my instincts are telling me, it is fine. But how is it fine? Last time we actually worked to
gether, you took me to the captain and tried to get me demoted and kicked off the ship.”
She did do those things. And she wasn’t going to apologize for taking Clalls to the captain. He had crossed the line then.
But at the moment, the Merimore was not significant to the whole mission. It was just an added problem.
Plus, when it came down to it, she knew real fear, real death, and she didn’t want to turn him in.
That last part surprised her, but not in a shocking way. More in a way that said they had history, and she didn’t want anything to happen to him. Let alone for him to be kicked off the ship.
But how did she tell him that it was nothing without losing her edge, her reputation for cracking down on those who didn’t do their job? “You deserved it on Yerg. You made a deal with a scrap-planet provider before we’d even set foot there. And then everyone—including you—got food poisoning.”
A slow half-smile. “Yeah, not my best moment.”
“But this was different. You didn’t set me up to look bad. However, if I get sick from the bula, I’m going to be pissed.”
His smile fell. “You’re not going to get sick.” She felt his tone. He didn’t like her questioning him or his gift.
She wanted to giggle.
A side effect of Niffy juice.
“We’re good. We’re a team,” Vivra said back.
“I’ve coined us the original thirty-six survivors.”
She paused in her typing. She liked that. It made her feel like a powerful survivor instead of a stroke of luck. “Good name.”
“I could make us shirts or colorful little stickers.” His tone was playful, and he stood as close to the desk as he could get without actually touching it.
“Then everyone would ask what it is, and we’d have a ship full of terrified crew members who didn’t realize they had inadvertently transferred to a ship that had thousands of dead bodies on it just a bit ago. Someone would start calling the Garna the ghost ship.”