The Catch (Huntress of the Star Empire Episodes 7-9)

by Athena Grayson

  “An intriguing puzzle, is she not?”

  “You have no idea.” Micah dug his fingers up beneath the collar, scratching at the skin of his neck trapped under the slender band of lightweight alloy. After the itch was scratched, he moved his hand down to the scratch that itched.

  “I do wish you’d let me attempt to relieve you of that.” His feline friend moved into the lounge room and settled on the edge of the pile of cushions closest to Micah, then removed a small tool kit from his satchel with a question on his furred face.

  Micah shook his head. The collar would, eventually, be hacked, but he had doubts as to the wisdom of it while it was around his neck. “I have to go into the Capitol as a bounty. They’d never believe she wasn’t compromised if I’m uncollared.” Nevertheless, he let Enlightenment examine the restraint and scan it for his own purposes. One never went wrong keeping up with Union tech. Especially when it could be used against you.

  “You’re concerned about her.” The Mauw’s whiskers twitched. He stroked his chin. “And she is attracted to you.”

  Micah raised his brows at that one. “When she’s not drugging me and tying me up? Possibly.”

  “Mauw senses are more keen than human ones.” Enlightenment peered at him over the tops of the spectacles. “Even psypath senses.”

  Micah scrubbed a hand down his face. “Guerre crystal affects most bipeds in some ways, doesn’t it?”

  “Enough for a handy excuse to pass a casual inspection. But I suspect there may be more to it. I, myself, have been living on this moon for well over a decade and have had time to become well used to crystal effects on perception.” The feline leaned over, his whiskers nearly touching Treska’s forehead. “It is for this reason alone that I have not made a firm statement about our fair Vice Hunter.” He shot another piercing look at Micah over the tops of his glasses. “I would trust you with the provenance of many an artifact, my friend. What about something a little more recent?”

  Questions. Always with the questions, and never an answer to be had. Micah glanced back down at the sleeping woman. “Treska herself?” Whom he was positive would not find it amusing for two males of differing species to be snuffling around her like kipkapi in rut.

  He watched her head droop to one side. Sleep, he thought. His fingers slowly formed into the kata for Suggest and he pushed, just the barest hint of will. Something he’d learned in tracking her had shown him that very minute efforts at using his psypath skills seemed to slide under the sensor threshold of the collar. He pulled back as soon as the twinge of the collar’s feedback began. He remembered his own suspicions about the behavior of the bystanders in the shantytown.

  Whether from his skills or from her own exhaustion, she slowly settled to a position on her side, facing away. When she didn’t move for several minutes, he sat up, carefully extricating himself from the pillows. He wouldn’t risk waking her, but he had a theory to test. He leaned in close, close enough to feel the heat of her skin and to see the flutter of her pulse just above her collarbone. Focusing his thoughts, he took several deep breaths, drawing in her scent with each inhale.

  Moments later, his own skin began to warm in response. Being a psypath had nothing to do with the sympathetic reaction his body had to her. His pulse sped up and the urge to touch her made his fingertips tingle. His attention focused on the pulse at her neck and he fixated on the hue of her skin. So pale, except where the shade deepened in the hollow of her collarbone.

  She made a soft sound—a sigh in her sleep—and slipped her hand between her knees, curving her shoulders inward. Such a delicate hand, one he wouldn’t mind warming with his own body heat. Just a little…

  With a last, deep sigh, he tugged the blanket he’d been sleeping on and slid the thermal fabric up over her shoulders. Life had just gotten a hundred percent more complicated for them both.

  The cushions rustled softly as he and Enlightenment moved carefully away from the sleeper. He closed the curtain between the lounging area and the galley where Enlightenment led. Once the curtain settled, the Mauw turned to him. “Well, my esteemed friend? Are my senses deceiving me?”

  Micah ran his fingers through his hair. The knowledge sat there, still on the surface of his mind. A hundred different excuses, explanations, unlikely scenarios flitted through his mind to explain away the wild theory that was coalescing into a likely truth.

  Enlightenment set a furred paw on his shoulder as Micah slumped into a chair at the dining counter—a primitively-carved lump of rock with the reclaimed wing of an atmo-craft affixed to it and held level with shims. “It would explain a lot about my dreams.”

  “Indeed?”

  Micah rubbed his temples. “I’ve been dreaming about my time in the Temple on Capitol. Dreaming about Zara.”

  “Oh, my friend. I am sorry.” In the manner of his people, Enlightenment rubbed his cheek against the side of Micah’s head.

  Micah turned his face into the Mauw’s fur, touched by the empathic gesture. “I thought I left her in the past.”

  Enlightenment set another bottle down on the counter. This one was a self-warming container of tea from Bastet and Sekhmet, the moons of Xanadu, the planet the Mauw called home. He cracked the warming seal and the thick spice of the aromatic tea prickled his nose. Moments later, he lifted the bottle to his lips and drank. “How did they do it? How did they so completely obliterate all the evidence?”

  “Unknown. I, for one, would like to know how the Union so thoroughly deceived even my senses in regards to her identity. And my chieftains would also be very much interested to know exactly what the Union intends to do with the ability to fool senses as keen as Mauw.”

  “I’m sure the answer lies in those ‘inhibs’ of hers,” Micah said.

  “I don’t suppose you have a sample?”

  Micah shook his head. “She ran out two days ago. Her supply was destroyed in the crash, and the rest—she eats them like sweets whenever we find ourselves in close proximity to one another.”

  “That cannot be healthy for her.”

  “It seems to be part of their purpose. While we were on board her ship, a curious thing happened.”

  “I’ve no doubt that many curious things happened when you were aboard the lady’s ship.”

  “Ha,” he said. “Not nearly as curious as I’d have liked. Just when things were about to get interesting, she had some sort of—episode, or reaction. She dropped to her knees and started reciting the tenets of Vakess’ New Morality. As if she were in a trance or something.”

  “Did you do anything that may have triggered it?” Enlightenment stroked his whiskers.

  Micah shook his head. “I was collared, in repulsor cuffs, with my pants around my ankles.”

  The Mauw smirked. “And the sight of your impressive manliness caused this seizure?”

  Micah rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t flatter myself. I think the source was her own reaction to me.” The blush of arousal that stained her cheeks, the spark of desire in her eyes, just before she fell to her knees was an image he couldn’t readily forget. That reactions as simple and natural as desire—or even mere curiosity—caused her pain was an abomination of nature. A crime against her existence. And another question. “The only thing that pulled her out of it was her bottle of pills. Afterwards, she was physically drained, but during the episode she was incapacitated. Had I been free of the cuffs, I could have stepped over her and taken over the ship. Or I could have easily subdued her. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Very curious, indeed.” Enlightenment stopped stroking his whiskers in favor of rising to pace the edges of the room. “Someone wants her ignorant of her own heritage more than they want her one hundred percent functional at her duty.”

  Micah’s eyes narrowed. The implications that leaped to his mind were unsettling at best. “If the propaganda about psypaths is to be believed, then someone in the Union took a very risky gamble with her life.” He glanced towards the curtain leading to the room where the woman vexed h
im even in her sleep. When she was awake, it was all she could do not to sing the praises of Vakess and his New Morality. Hard to imagine this would be how they repaid her. “Unless they don’t believe their own propaganda.”

  Enlightenment stopped by the curtain and inhaled, his whiskers quivering. “I do so miss the days when the temples operated throughout the system. Perhaps they somehow know you well enough to realize that you wouldn’t kill a Hathori woman, even were she attempting to kill you.” The Mauw activated an info padd and gazed at the contents. Micah could see Treska’s picture from the side and wondered whether it was the Undernet profile, the official profile, or the Official-official profile.

  Micah sighed. “She must be told. She has to know.”

  Enlightenment looked up from the padd and regarded him with serious tawny eyes. “An unwise move, my friend.”

  He nodded. “She already believes every word from my lips is a lie. It’ll have to be you.”

  The Mauw shook his head. “I think telling her anything at all would be a grave error.” He pulled the curtain more firmly closed. “Her psyche hangs upon her beliefs about the universe in which she lives. To rip that all away from her would cause her untold anguish.”

  Micah fixed his own gaze on his friend’s. “But to be complicit in the lie she’s living would be worse.”

  “Her lack of memory gives her nothing to fall back on. Her entire identity hinges on her beliefs about herself. Take them away and she loses her entire self.” Enlightenment held his gaze steady.

  Micah refused to look away. “Keeping this from her makes me as much a villain as those who did this to her in the first place.”

  “Your personal honor ranks behind her well-being.” The Mauw folded his arms. “Is it worth it to you to tear her identity away for the sake of an outdated code held in regard by no one but yourself?”

  He scowled. “You’re right, damn you.”

  “My friend, I feel no joy in hearing you acknowledge it. And you know as well as I do that circumstances are rarely static. You would counsel me to seek more knowledge before making a move so drastic. Now I caution you to do the same.”

  Micah rubbed his temples. “I know. I know. But—I’m getting damn tired of waiting in the wings to act! I’ve watched the Union for ten years now, hunting my kind like herd animals, twisting this whole star system to the will of one self-loathing bastard and—” He broke off and took a deep, calming breath through his nose, which was a mistake, as it brought the memory of Treska’s scent into his awareness and a new fury burning in his gut at the injustice done to her. He clenched his fists until the knuckles were white and ordered himself to release the simmering rage pooling in him before it manifested in some other, more destructive way. “Never mind.” He drew his legs into a crossed position. “I’m going to meditate my way out of this. Come and get me when the sun comes back up and we’ll be on our way.”

  Enlightenment strode away from the door and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Find your peace, my friend. What you can of it.”

  Micah found no peace in meditation. The crystals all around distracted him with whispers, and more than once, he’d been disoriented enough to tap into his talents, only to receive a jolt that stung his sinuses and made his skin crawl. The scratch Brezeen had given him started a dull throb. He gave it up for futile and returned to Treska’s side. He borrowed one of Enlightenment’s communication padds and checked the Undernet. The messages left by blockade runners, smugglers, and independent freighters were usually a pretty even pattern—encoded markers indicating route conditions, traffic, and how much it would take for a friendly local to look the other way. The information was boring, but if you knew how to read it, you could detect the heartbeat of the entire star system.

  There was a Jump delay for commercial traffic from the inner orbits to mid-system. Micah frowned. A delay rippling out that far, and of that size, meant the military was on the move. Exercises, official documentation would say, but Micah knew they were anything but. He spared a sympathetic thought for the poor souls whose worlds were about to become infested with New Morality missionaries. Vultary was entering its spring season, and the exodus of young Vultrons from their homeworld generated a thick web of comm static from the outer orbits. Cetares had opened up for immigration again, and hopefuls flocked to the bucolic residential world, hoping to win the settlers’ lottery, while the rest submitted to indenture in the hopes that their children might one day become citizens once the indenture debt was paid. Interesting to know the New Morality’s morality didn’t extend all the way to the point of inconveniencing industry.

  He stopped when his own family name appeared in the news ticker. His gut churned at the headline. Former Noble House Opens Doors To New Morality Education Complex (keywords: Ariesis, New Morality, Real Estate). The head of the Ariesis Noble house announced today that the reorganization of the House into a cell of the New Morality is in its final stages, in accordance with Union law. Aligning with the complete conversion of the House’s assets to New Morality management is the opening of a New Morality Education Complex on Trajary. The moon’s southern hemisphere was the location of one of the oldest Ariesis strongholds, and part of the complex remains preserved as an historical attraction operated by the education center. The center will be open to pilgrims and practitioners focused on establishing New Morality standards and practices in the frontier and outer orbits.

  Sick to his stomach, Micah tossed the padd aside. He hadn’t seen his father since he first entered the Temple. The man was all but a stranger to him, and would have been even if Micah had not been sent as a child to Ursis Amalia to control his talents. But he was not unknown, and Micah had had doubts that the wily old patriarch paid anything more than lip service to the New Morality. But giving up Trajary? According to lore, Trajary had been his family’s first home. There were parts of the estate that were still constructed of the original modular habitat. They no longer remembered where they’d come from, any more than anyone else did, but no one who had a traceable star heritage would ever give that up.

  He glanced down at the sleeping woman next to him. Treska didn’t have a pre-attack heritage, much less a stellar one. She didn’t even realize one of the most fundamental truths about herself. And you can’t tell her. It will splinter her mind. Fracture her identity. Destroy her with madness, and you will become the monster she thinks you are. He pressed his lips together as his frustration found a new target in the Union. Now, more than ever, he had to get to the Capitol.

  Lysan would need to be told. The high priestess would be furious to learn that one of her people—perhaps one from her own temple, if Treska’s tale of being found in the midlevels of the Capitol Garden District were true—had been so thoroughly manipulated by the New Morality. This may, in some small way, repay her for the debt I owe.

  Lysan’s rage, however, would be nothing next to Xenna’s. He missed his partner terribly, fretted for her safety in quiet moments, and up until a few scant hours ago, even hoped for the chance that she could see Treska in action. The two women had a lot in common. Including a fondness for tying me up. Xenna would be able to confirm Treska’s identity as a Hathori, at least, if not recognize her. Once she did that, though, he would have to make sure his collar was off, because it was going to take every ounce of his power to keep Xenna from tearing the whole Capitol apart.

  Treska’s sleep turned restless again. Micah couldn’t help it—he stroked her hair and made soothing murmurs. She shifted and burrowed into the crook of his arm and sighed. He moved his hand from her to shift to a more comfortable position in the pillows and she made a small sound of protest. “Stay,” she murmured.

  It hit him like a bucket of cold water. Suddenly it all made sense—the dreams about Zara, his concern for Treska’s well-being, even as she had no qualms at all about tranking him to oblivion and back.

  Enlightenment chose that moment to slip into the room. The Mauw breathed deeply, eyes closed. “Ahh, by the great celestial hai
rball, I do miss the old ways.” His feline smile faded when he caught the look on Micah’s face. “You, my friend, appear to be struggling with a planet-sized hairball of your own.”

  His face felt numb, so when he spoke, it was barely a mumble. “Ten long years, I’ve done penance for youthful foolishness.” He shook his head. “I knew the rules—everyone knows the rules. You ride out your youthful crush and walk away.”

  Enlightenment’s whiskers twitched. “You did not. But may I suggest that it was not you who broke the cardinal rule of Hathori service.”

  Micah stared down at the pillows, following an embroidered chain with his gaze. “I should have left. She would have gotten past her feelings. It was as much my fault as it was hers.” He lifted his head to the Mauw. “It takes two to fall in love.”

  “And no one has repented more than you in the last ten years. You’ve devoted yourself to Hathori causes, helped liberate and rehabilitate thousands of Hathori. The high priestess could have called for your execution, and not even a psypath would see a clutch of Hathori assassins coming before their blades were already buried in you.” Enlightenment’s voice remained quiet, but hardened. “But Lysan depends on you. You are one of her closest advisors. She’s long since forgiven you your transgression against the Temple.”

  Micah continued the strokes down her back. “Just in time for me to have gone and done it again.” He glanced down at her face, then back up into Enlightenment’s. “I’ve gone and lost my heart to another Hathori woman.”

  Laid Bare

  Someone was stroking her hair, she realized. The light touch felt good. More than good, as gentle hands moved down to her back. With every span of the fingers down her spine, something opened up inside her just a little bit, until she seemed to fill up with some strange tension. She arched into the touch, tiny shivers chasing themselves up and down her body.