by Kiersten Fay
They had to pull into a port soon. This was a merchant ship, after all.
Thinking back, she wondered if she’d adequately covered her tracks. Would the search take long enough for her to carry out her plan, or was he already on his way to claim her once more? She bit her lip with worry. There had been other ships to come and go. Hopefully he would seek them out first.
She found it was becoming harder to keep her eyes open. Voices trailed through the small grated door. To stay awake, she tried to concentrate on the conversation outside. It must be the captain's voice that she heard the loudest. His words were muffled. She scooted closer to the door to listen. Someone was saying something about…wards?
“Once the wards are in place, you may begin your long journey.” This came from a commanding voice…a female voice.
“My men are gathering the supplies you promised.” The captain? “They should be back shortly.” He paused. “Is this it? Is this all we are to transport?”
“That is all that was requested of us. It is enough,” the woman's voice proclaimed. “The contents of this box are without price. Irreplaceable. This is a very important task you undertake. Ethanule's reasoning for choosing you above all others is…beyond me. Know this…if this box does not reach its intended destination, you will face the wrath of my entire race, as well as Ethanule's.”
Analia's curiosity was piqued.
“I assure you, Lady Hieskita, we are excellent at what we do. There is no doubt….”
“You understand your journey will take you through the warring territories. Have you no reservations about that?” the woman interrupted.
“There are ways around those zones. It would only make the trip a little longer to avoid them. And, if we must, we have maneuvered those territories many times before.” The captain's reply sounded as though he was smiling at the challenge.
“You fully understand the wards then? What will happen if they're breached?”
“Yes.” He tried to conceal the exasperation in his tone. “If anyone leaves or enters the ship before the package is delivered, the contract is annulled…and we are still required to deliver the package, without pay,” he said robotically, emphasizing the last words. “Or risk war from both you and Ethanule."
Lady Hieskita humphed and said nothing more.
Analia laid back, alarmed by their conversation. Wards? Long journey? No one on or off the ship! She had to make her move now. But how?
Her mind felt dull, but she could tell there were many people out there. Too many for a clean escape, especially with her slow reflexes and weary body. More than that, she had no idea where they were. How far had they come? She realized now that she had no experience with new places, new cultures. She'd have no idea how to act, who to trust, how not to get herself killed.
Maybe she could wait it out. How lengthy could this trip be?
Thanks to Darius' favorite punishment, she found she was able to go without food for longer and longer periods of time. But how much more could she endure? Furthermore, how much time had already past? She was so hungry. She didn't think she could hold out much longer.
By the sound of soft approaching voices, the decision to stay and wait it out was made for her. The captain took one last moment to reassure the Lady Hieskita.
“I pray for your safe journey,” she replied. Then the room went silent until she began chanting. Ancient sounding words that dripped with power and energy filled the empty space around her. Energy slithered and writhed around her. It clung to her—tiny tendrils clamoring, seeking a way inside.
At first Analia resisted, using her own energy to push against it, but it pushed harder. The power didn't feel malicious, just strong. She relaxed a little, allowing the strange current to do as it wished. It softened, and then flittered through her like a warm embrace before dissipating.
When the woman's chanting died out, she said simply, “The wards are in place.”
The captain said his goodbyes and thanked the woman. After a short while, a great sound rumbled.
The ship was on the move once again.
Analia's body felt colder and weaker than before. Her initial resistance to the odd energy had cost her. Breath coming in short spurts, she curled into a ball in an attempt to warm her shuddering body. When that didn't work, she allowed the weariness to overcome and she welcomed the cradling arms of unconsciousness.
* * *
——
* * *
Sebastian was damn curious about that box. Never had a job been racked with such complications. His crew was used to docking at a space city every so often for supplies, equipment, and entertainment. They'd never gone more than a few weeks without stopping for some reason or another.
They were stocked to the brim for this trip, but it would be a trial for the crew, being on board for so long. After receiving their intended destination from Lady Hieskita, he figured the journey could take a little more than seven months, maybe ten. Once the job was completed, he would make sure they all had some much needed time away from Marada. Maybe find a cozy planet, brimming with fresh women.
The wards spooked him, knowing they were there yet unseen, like a parasite attached to his beloved ship. In the past, he had refused many jobs due to such restrictions in the contract. This one, however, promised to pay the equivalent of more than ten commissions combined, nearly double what he'd first thought it would be. He couldn't refuse.
To his utter shock, Ethanule had personally requested Marada for this mission. Why?
Ethanule was the leader of a faction of pirates. They'd done one job for him in the past; a small commission at that. There had been nothing challenging about it, nothing that should prove any real worth as a merchant or a cargo ship. Furthermore, Sebastian hadn't hid his distaste for pirates. His family openly disliked them, since their father had been brutally murdered by their kind.
But sometimes, a job is just a job.
His thoughts drifted back to the parcel. Why would Ethanule ask for him? And what could be so important that came in such a small package? That which could invoke the wrath of an entire race? This commission could either be a great achievement or his utter destruction.
Calic eyed him warily, possibly thinking the same thing. “Our course has been downloaded into the ship’s navigation system, Captain.”
“Good. Let's get going then. Cale, take command.”
Calic nodded and assumed control of the bridge.
Sebastian left, taking the stairway outside that lead to his quarters, just above the control room. A domed window, covering half the room, ceiling to floor, revealed a vast spacescape. Unlike the one in the control room, this one did not double as an oversized communication screen, just provided a great view.
Marada itself was complete with luxuries, unusually so for a typical merchant ship. The previous owner—an extravagant and apparently rich individual—had adorned the ship with every comfort one could think of. There was a spa room with an oversized pool, and a built-in pub separate from the galley and salon. There was even a large room dressed with soil, live plants, and an artificial stream of re-circulating water. The place reminded many on board of their home planets.
But what was most amazing was Marada's water recycling and regeneration system, unusual for such a large ship. Where many ships used the more economical powder enzyme shower systems, Marada used real water. The system allowed for an abundant use of water—one of the scarcest commodities in deep space—over long periods of time. Water could be used and recycled many times over without contaminants entering the system. The only drawback was, every few decades, fresh water needed to be added to the system, siphoned from a planet that was overflowing with it.
Everything about the ship was made to provide a sense of comfort.
Even though it was constructed like a cruise ship, great attention had been paid to the internal workings as well. It was state of the art in defense and weaponry, as well as navigation. The ship came complete with an extensive databa
se of galaxies, solar systems, stars, planets, different races, and extremely detailed information about places far out of reach.
Yes, the day he, Cale, and Sonya had stolen it, they found that they had acquired a good ship indeed. It had been five hundred years ago, the day of the betrayal, and the beginning of the war that ultimately destroyed their home planet. It was a war between his people and the warmongers who called themselves Kayadon.
The Kayadon had come in fast, without warning. Only a select few had known what was coming, and many of those who knew chose to betray their people and their planet in favor of the infidels. People like their mother and Calic's mate. He thought of them now with venom in his heart. Cowards.
Shortly after the war had begun, he and his brother had received word that the fighting was nearing their village. After a quick meeting among the elders, all able men were called together. The brothers hadn't hesitated to join the fray, to protect their homes and families.
Sonya had spent hours begging to come along. She wanted to fight as badly as they had. Sebastian, being the eldest male in the family, had refused.
Not that she couldn't take care of herself. She had always been a strong fighter, trained by Sebastian himself. Her speed was incredible. She was faster than anyone in the village, including Cale. But he wouldn't let her fight because he couldn't stand the thought of losing her in battle. He had always been fiercely protective of her. Both he and Calic still were.
Readying their battle gear, Cale and Sebastian were unaware of the danger in their own home. The two women had approached as if to kiss them goodbye, but, instead, injected them with a poison that would render them weak and, therefore, useless in a fight. The poison had taken affect nearly instantaneously. Both men—disoriented, muscles slack and weak—howled in rage. Sonya too screamed her horror. “What have you done!” he recalled her saying over and over again.
“The Kayadon have come to lead us,” their mother had ranted in a radical tone he'd never before heard her use. For the first time, he noticed the glossy glazed look in her eyes as she fanatically spouted her support for the invaders.
Seething with anger, and a newfound hatred, they had left the two women behind as they made their escape. The fighting was close, and they could not defend themselves. Survival instincts had taken over.
They thought to hide out in a cave or the woods till the poison passed through their systems and they once again regained their strength.
That's when they came upon Marada, belonging to a solitary Kayadon nobleman waiting to stake a claim on their home planet. The interloper had landed his ship far enough away from the war zone to not get involved, but close enough that he could join in the victory when it was over. The bastard never lived to see the end of the war.
After Sonya slit the man's throat, Sebastian and Calic readied the ship for takeoff. There was a short period of trial and error with the controls. Their kind had always been swift learners.
The Kayadon had quickly won the war. Their weapons had been far more advanced at the time, and they had the element of surprise. Soon after their victory, they had scorched the demon planet to the point of being uninhabitable. The Kayadon had taken what they could and enslaved many of Sebastian’s people.
Sebastian shook away the memories of that terrible day. He hated that after hundreds of years later it still haunted him. He could see the anger festering within his brother too, and it had only grown over these long years. He feared that one day his brother could be lost to the rage forever.
He showered quickly and dressed before setting out again.
At present, Sonya was in charge of Marada's pub. She seemed happy there. But, every once in awhile, he would see in her eyes the same look that he sometimes caught in his own, or in Cale's—a deep mourning for the loss of the home they would never know again.
Sebastian entered the pub—Sonya liked to call it The Demon's Punchbowl—and took a seat. Sonya spotted him and waved while attending Bertok, a trusted crew member who had been with them for years. Bertok shifted in his seat to nod a silent greeting at Sebastian, then turned back to his drink.
“Hey!” Sonya smiled, sashaying toward Sebastian. Her thin tail—a trait of female demons—swung side to side as she walked, making her look more seductive.
Sebastian ground his teeth at that. He suspected she did that intentionally.
Fortunately, the men on the ship were smart enough to stay away from her. They understood that he or Cale would kill anyone who dare hurt her. He also knew that Sonya resented their over protectiveness.
Sebastian smiled as she approached. “Hi, Sunny.” To his amusement, she scowled at the nickname.
“What can I do for you, Bastard?”
He smiled wider. “I'll take some of that new stuff you got in.”
“Ah, the raging inferno. It's pretty strong, even for us demons.”
“Good. The stronger, the better.”
Sonya poured him a generous glass and then prepared a shot for herself. She lifted the tiny glass expectantly. It was a ritual that they'd brought with them from their home planet. Whenever an unfamiliar drink was imbibed, it was always done in the company of a friend or loved one. The practice arose following a string of serial murders through the use of poison mixed with foreign alcohols.
Turned out an insane member of the demon community was going around killing off his friends. Imported alcohols had been used because a demon could easily detect poison through taste in familiar drinks, but with previously unconsumed substances that talent was nullified. Now, the simple ritual was a sign of trust and friendship.
Sebastian raised his glass.
While he sipped his drink, Sonya downed hers in one gulp, slamming her glass on the counter. “Good stuff,” she declared.
Sebastian nodded his agreement.
“So,” she continued. “We're stuck on the ship for some time, I hear.” Again Sebastian nodded. “Well, it'll be good for business.” Perking up, she poured herself another shot.
Even though Sonya was much more lenient with her pricing than the larger pubs in the space cities, whenever they docked, she always lost her clientele to the more lavish entertainment the cities provided.
She had made a profitable business out of her pub, wisely saving for her own future. Not that she was leaving her boys anytime soon.
Rather than use the ship’s funds, she used pub profits to purchase whatever supplies she required, leaving herself independent of her brothers. That seemed to be important to her.
She also insisted on paying rent for her space. Sebastian had refused, but Sonya was persistent, giving him ten percent of her earnings each month. He saved everything she gave him, planning to give it all back to her one day—which, if he knew Sonya, would surely piss her off. Sebastian chuckled out loud at that. When Sonya gave him a questioning look, he just shook his head and went back to his drink.
“So what's the load this time?” she asked.
“Don't know. Something very small. Too small for the pay if you ask me. But the package is sealed and the contract is void if we take even a peek.”
“Hey, sometimes the best things come in small packages. Just look at me.” She did her best I'm-just-a-cute-little-demon impression, which always made him laugh. For a demon, Sonya was on the small side. So was Sebastian, for that matter, though he still towered over her.
“You're right,” he said, ruffling her long, black-as-pitch hair.
She bellowed out a curse in Demonish, their native language, while swatting his hand away. Vainly, she rushed to fix the disheveled mess. Her violet eyes blazed with irritation, and a little amusement.
Sebastian continued to sip his drink reflectively, as Sonya went about her business, refilling glasses and seeing to anyone who entered.
He hoped the decision he had made to accept this commission was the right one. Sonya's words repeated in his mind. Whether the package was large or small, it was significant to someone. Significant to a lot of someones, it seemed. He
couldn't help but wonder why they would trust him with it?
Finishing the last of his drink, Sebastian waved his goodbye to Sonya. Calic would be in charge for the next few hours so he had some time to kill before he took command again. In the gym, he worked out some of his pent up energy. A few hours later, he took a dip in the pool. Most days, he hated his downtime. He always felt he should be doing something. After the pool, he was relaxed and headed to his quarters for some rest before it came time to relieve Cale.
Chapter 3
Nearly a full week had passed and all was calm.
Sebastian had been working his crew hard. Round the clock detail. Each day brought them closer to their goal.
No one had complained. Everyone seemed as eager as he to get this job over with. Maybe they sensed what he did. There was something different about this commission. It was taken more seriously by everyone. Even the most careless of the crew were noticeably working harder.
Sebastian was at his command center, checking the status of their progress. For the last week, Marada's engines had been churning at nearly constant full speed. It wasn't fast enough. He had hoped to be farther along than this.
Sighing, he settled into his chair, watching the vision of space at his front. It was stoic, calm, and never ending—deadly, if you weren't careful.
He imagined how different his life would be if he still lived on his home planet. If the war hadn't destroyed it, and if he'd never been deceived by those closest to him. He would have found a woman, he supposed, made a family. He would have built them an adequate home on his ancestors’ land, and he would have strove every day to keep it up. Life would have been…boring.
As it was, he loved his adventurous existence, leading his crew and meeting all the strange races of the universe. Learning and mastering all the different languages and cultures. It gave him a purpose.
A faint groan jarred him from his thoughts, barely audible against the steady rumble of the ship, but distinct. Sebastian looked around. No one else seemed to have heard it.
