by C. Gockel
“The colonel said he thought this was yours,” Malik said, walking to the table and putting a finger on the box.
“I’ve never seen it before,” Alisa said before it occurred to her to wonder why Leonidas had said that. Was it something out of his room? Something he did not want Malik knowing was his? If so, she did not appreciate him putting the onus on Alisa to explain it.
“No?” Malik asked. “It was in one of the cabins on your ship.”
Alisa almost said that one of the passengers had probably brought it on because the Nomad hadn’t had any personal effects left on it when she had gotten it, but she caught herself. If the box had been in someone’s bag, she did not want to get that person interrogated. Maybe this was Yumi’s stash of whatever it was she had intended to trade for her passage. Or maybe it was Alejandro’s missing item that meant so much to him.
“Was it?” Alisa asked. “What is it?”
Malik rested a hand on her shoulder, his fingers digging in slightly. It was more of a warning than an attack, but she had no doubt that he could crush her bones with those fingers. It made her appreciate that Leonidas, even if he had been grumpy on occasion, had never threatened her, physically or otherwise. She found herself wishing he was here, standing at her side, though that was silly. Like she had said, imperials and Alliance did not mix. Malik was wrong. For some people, the war would never be over.
“I believe you may be feigning ignorance,” Malik said softly.
Bruiser was watching from the doorway, and he bit his lip, his eyes gleaming as he leaned forward. Was the sick bastard getting excited at the notion that the cyborg might hurt her?
“Not me,” Alisa said. “I really am this ignorant. All I know how to do is fly. But maybe I can help you figure out whose box it is if you send your thug away.” Feeling audacious, she lifted her cuffs so she could pat Malik on one of his prodigious pecs. It was amazing his shirt did not rip from the strain of holding all those muscles in. She also wriggled her eyebrows at him. She had never been good at flirting her way out of trouble, but since she did not have a weapon or a ship to throw at him, she had to try what she could, so she thrust her chest toward him.
Her friendly pat and waggling eyebrows did not move him noticeably. He did not even give her chest a glance.
“Bruiser has been one of my loyal pirates since I took over,” Malik said. “He helped me overthrow his boss when he saw what I was.”
What he was? A megalomaniacal asshole?
“He knew that someone with my strength deserved to lead here,” Malik continued.
Yes, megalomaniacal asshole was the appropriate term.
“You have to reward your men once in a while to keep them loyal, and he’s taken a fancy to you.” Malik shrugged and stepped toward the table. “But first, I want to know what this is.”
He flicked the lid open, and a golden light filled the room. Alisa stared at it, forgetting thoughts of flirting. A sphere rested on a velvet cushion inside the box, the luminescent material alive with all the colors of the rainbow along with a few more. Within the surface of the orb, clouds and shapes swirled, morphing and changing in front of their eyes. It was beautiful, but Alisa had no idea what it was.
“Is it just a bauble?” Malik asked. “Or does it have some function?”
He picked it up with both hands, though the orb would have fit in one. He twisted it, and it came apart into four pieces, which he laid on the table. They glowed from their inner edges as much as they did on the curved surface, and Alisa had to squint to make out the shapes of those inner edges. They were jagged, with matching pins and holes, the whole thing designed to fit together like a puzzle, but with only four pieces, it was not a very complicated puzzle. It definitely arrested her attention, though, and she found herself wanting to reach out and touch those pieces, to hold them and not let them go. She struggled to focus, to come up with something to say that might improve her situation.
“Pretty, pretty,” came a whisper from the wall. Bruiser. He was staring at the pieces, transfixed.
“I’ve noticed it has some glamour that attracts the weak-minded,” Malik said dryly.
Alisa flushed. It had certainly pulled at her.
Still staring, Bruiser did not seem to notice that he had been insulted. Maybe he would want to sit and play with it all day and forget his interest in her.
Malik put the pieces back together—despite the simplicity, it took some effort for him to align them correctly to make the orb again. He set it back on its velvet cushion and shut the lid on the box.
The beautiful illumination ceased, and a pang of loss came over Alisa. Her fingers twitched toward the box as an urge to open the lid again filled her. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the spots it had left in her vision and also of the strange longing it had stamped into her mind. Three suns, what was that thing?
“You’ve never seen it before,” Malik said, disappointment tingeing his voice. Whatever her reaction had been, it must have convinced him of what her words alone had not. “But surely you know which one of your crew brought it on board.”
Alisa said nothing, though she was ninety-nine percent certain this had to be the object Alejandro had been so desperate to get back. It must have some religious significance. Maybe it was even tied to whatever had made him decide to retire from his last career and put on that monk’s robe.
“She knows,” Bruiser said, the leer back on his face. “I’m sure she does. Let me find out for you, Sublime Commander.”
“I’d be more likely to tell you,” Alisa said, meeting Malik’s eyes and giving him another suggestive smile, trying to look alluring. “Why don’t you get rid of your friend there, and we’ll talk.”
She could not believe she was thinking of seducing a cyborg, but maybe she could get him to take her to his cabin where he might eventually leave her alone. Escaping from a cabin would be easier than escaping from a guarded jail cell.
Malik’s earstar must have beeped for him, because he touched it and walked away from her, his lips moving as he answered subvocally. Alisa sighed. Even if he hadn’t been interrupted, she doubted her ruse would have worked. He had not appeared noticeably interested in her allure.
With his boss distracted, Bruiser sidled away from the wall.
Alisa appraised him warily. He struck her as an idiot, but he was a big and strong idiot. He wore twin-barreled Chargers on his hips. Fighting him off when her hands were cuffed would not be easy. That knowledge did not keep her from scheming. If she could get one of those guns when he was distracted by his lust, she could shoot him and get out of here, especially if Malik left the room.
She just hoped she could find her opportunity before Bruiser attained his goal. She had never been captured during the war, and she had avoided the realities of what happened to those women who had been. The idea that it might catch up with her here, when she had been on her way home, horrified her. Fear clutched her for a moment, keeping her from reacting as Bruiser slid close enough to wrap an arm around her. Only when his hand came up to mash her breast did a jolt of reason burst through her, reminding her that she had to act if she wanted to stop him and get one of those weapons.
She was about to stomp on his instep, or at least try, when Malik cleared his throat.
Bruiser froze, his hand still on her breast, and looked at the cyborg. His arm tightened possessively around Alisa. “You said I could have her, Sublime Commander.” It sounded like a whine. “I’m not doing anything you didn’t say I could.”
Malik flicked a dismissive hand. “Have her. Just don’t forget to find out whose rock this is.”
He picked up the box and walked out the door. It closed, a beep sounding. The electronic lock being thrown.
“Yes,” Bruiser hissed, shoving her back against the wall and smothering her with his body so quickly that the terror almost overwhelmed her again, keeping her from acting, from doing anything useful. She tripped over a weight that had been left on the floor, and it further
flustered her.
No, she growled to herself as he rammed against her, his oversexed cock already hard in his pants. With his body shoved against hers, her arms pinned in front of her as he groped her, she could not reach his guns. His belt mashed against her knuckles, but the butts of the weapons were six inches away. It might as well have been a mile.
She shifted, trying to get a knee up, to put some space between them. The horny bastard was all over her, grabbing and squeezing. He yanked her shirt open, buttons popping off, then bit her on the neck, breaking the skin.
The pain sent a bucket of cold water over her mind, clearing her brain. Just struggling wouldn’t do much—he was too strong. She had to be smarter than he was.
“Hold on there, big fellow,” Alisa said, forcing her voice to come out sultry and interested, rather than pissed and terrified. “Let me help you.”
“Unh?” He lifted his mouth, blood on his lips, and looked her in the face, his own face puzzled.
Yeah, she had a feeling women didn’t have much interest in helping him very often. Still, he appeared intrigued by the idea.
“You’re still wearing all of your clothes,” she said, smiling, hoping he did not see the calculation in her eyes. “Let me help, eh?”
She shifted her fingers, forcing herself to hold that smile and to keep looking into his eyes as she grabbed the fastener of his belt. It wasn’t easy with her wrists bound awkwardly, nor did it help that her fingers were shaking. Any second, he would realize she was planning something. But that befuddled look on his face turned to excitement, probably because she was doing something he had planned to do anyway. She unclasped the fastener and moved her hands to his hip, as if to help push his pants down.
A hint of wariness entered his eyes as her fingers slid closer to one of his guns. It wasn’t going to work. She would only get one chance. If it wasn’t perfect, he would have time to react, to toss his guns across the room where she could not reach them again.
Alisa licked her lips. “Bite me again, big fellow.”
He watched her tongue, then grinned. “Yeah.”
He leaned into her, finding her ear with his teeth, groaning as he ground against her. But this time, her right arm wasn’t completely pinned. She pretended that she was excited and that his bite didn’t hurt like touching a burning pan. She moaned into his ear as she eased her fingers around the butt of the gun. He grabbed the front of her trousers to yank them down. She grabbed his gun and yanked it free.
She got it all the way out, but he noticed. Damn it. She tried to twist it to point at his chest, tugging her other bound wrist along with her right one.
“Bitch,” he growled and leaned back so he could clobber her in the face.
Before his blow landed, she rammed upward with her knee, now having the space to do so. She skittered to the side along the wall, turning so she could finally aim the gun at him. He lunged for it, but his foot caught on the weight on the ground. It only distracted him for a split second, but it was enough. She fired.
She leaped back as he lunged toward her, firing again. He screamed in pain, smoke wafting from his chest. She fired one more time, taking him square in the face, terrified that someone would hear his yells and come to check. The energy bolt hollowed out his eye, and his features froze in a rictus of pain.
He tumbled to the ground, and she backed farther until she ran into a rack of weight equipment. She kept the gun pointed toward him, half expecting him to rise again and come after her. But he wasn’t moving.
Alisa wanted to take a moment to calm herself, to find her equilibrium—and a way to close her shirt—but there wasn’t time. The Charger wasn’t a noisy weapon, but someone could have heard his cries of pain. She could have company at any moment.
She dropped to her knees and made herself touch him, patting him down and hoping to find whatever electronic key opened the handcuffs. If Malik had it, things would be more difficult. But she found a jumble of devices on a ring in his jacket pocket. She tugged it out and started pressing buttons. Most of them did not do anything, not here anyway. She imagined the hangar bay doors lifting on the other side of the ship.
Finally, her cuffs clicked, and she could shake her hands free. She almost left the cuffs on the floor, but grabbed them and stuffed them into her jacket pocket along with the fob that opened them. Maybe she would get a chance to return the favor to one of the pirates.
With her body aching and blood dripping from her ear to spatter the shirt she managed to partially close—a few of the buttons remained—she walked toward the door. Malik had locked it, so she was not surprised when it did not open for her. There wasn’t a control panel on the inside, either. She stepped back, debating if randomly shooting at it would do anything.
A beep sounded, the lock opening, and the door slid aside.
17
Alisa jerked the gun up, pointing it at the door as it slid aside. Leonidas stood there. Alone.
Not certain what their relationship was now, she did not lower the weapon. He had removed his combat armor and wore the clothes he’d worn on the Nomad, the partial uniform with the jacket that proclaimed him a member of the Cyborg Corps. The leader of them, she reminded herself. Or at least he had been at one point during the war.
Leonidas glanced at the gun, but then looked to her neck and her torn shirt, the blood spattered on it. His gaze shifted toward Bruiser, then back to her.
“Good.” He nodded. “I thought I would once again be too late to protect you—I don’t have free rein here.”
Leonidas glanced up and down the corridor before taking a step inside. He arched an eyebrow at the gun. He was close enough that he could have used his enhanced speed to rip it from her hand before she could fire, but he didn’t move anything except the eyebrow.
Alisa lowered the weapon. “You weren’t too late last time.”
“Just unforgivably tardy?”
“Not unforgivably so.” She managed a wan smile, though her whole body hurt. She might not know if they had a relationship or not, but she knew she was glad he was the one standing here, rather than Malik. “Besides, I didn’t think that promise of protection extended past our excursion to the research station.”
“You’re always supposed to protect people when you’re in combat armor and they’re not.”
“You’re not in combat armor now.”
He grunted softly. “Yeah, I am.” He lifted a hand toward her, as if to check her injuries or offer support, but lowered it without touching her. “Are you all right?”
No, she wanted to curl up in her bunk on her ship far, far away from any pirates. And for the first time in a long time, she wished her mother would be there to take care of her, as she had been when Alisa had been a child. She would have also been pleased to have Jonah there to take care of her. Why had all of the people who could take care of her left her?
“I’m fine,” was all she said, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Why did you tell them I had a clue about the orb?”
“I needed a chance to talk to you.”
“Been pining away in the absence of my company, eh?” Alisa backed up to the table. Relaxing probably was not a good idea, but she needed a second to gather her wits and recover her strength, so she laid the gun down and sat in a chair.
“Your humor is still intact,” Leonidas said.
“You’re supposed to sound more approving when you make observations like that.”
“Ah.”
Leonidas walked to the table and paused, again lifting his hand like he meant to pat her shoulder or maybe say something reassuring. She must look awful to elicit such feelings from him. He didn’t seem to know if she wanted to be touched, though, because he ended up lowering his hand once more. He pulled over another chair, sitting on the edge and turning it so he faced her and also the door.
“Is the orb the doctor’s?” he asked.
Alisa shot him a wary look. It crossed her mind that Malik might have sent him in to pretend to be a friend and
get the answers from her that way. Maybe Malik had known Bruiser would fail.
“I really don’t know,” she said.
“Ah,” he repeated, a hint of sadness in his blue eyes. Sadness that she didn’t trust him? Well, could he blame her? When he sat there in that uniform and when he had, as far as she could tell, joined forces with Sublime Commander Malik? “Let’s get to what I wanted to talk to you about then.” He leaned forward, draping his forearms across his thighs. They were just as meaty as Malik’s. There must be a rule against scrawny cyborgs. “If I can arrange for the gates to open on the cells in the brig, do you think you can make your way to your ship? And will you take the other prisoners with you? Drop them off someplace safe along your way?”
He looked in her eyes, and she sensed that the request meant a lot to him. For some reason, it stung that he was more concerned about getting people he had never met to safety than her. It wasn’t as if she had ever given him a reason to care, but she wished he wanted first and foremost for her and her crew to get out safely.
“If I can get out of here, I will absolutely take everyone I can with me,” Alisa said, pushing aside her silly feelings. She might have to steal some food and water to sustain those people until they got to civilization, but Alejandro already wanted her to go on a trek to find his orb—which Malik was apparently carting around with him—so what was one more stop?
“Good.”
“What about you? You’re staying here?”
