by S. E. Smith
“Captain, I have the rear thrusters working,” the high-pitched voice of her co-pilot responded. “And my name is Froget, not Frog! How many times do I have to tell you that?” The green, yellow and black creature growled as he jumped into the chair next to her.
Skeeter laughed in delight at the slightly exasperated tone of her new co-pilot. She had picked up the medium-sized amphibian creature on the Gallus Spaceport at the last minute. She didn’t care what he said his name was, he looked just like the frogs in the picture vidcoms that Bulldog had given her as a child.
She had fallen in love with Frog’s big eyes and long, sticky tongue. He could pick things off the wall from almost ten feet away! It was the coolest thing she had ever seen, well, until he got stuck that one time. He still hadn’t forgiven her for that. How she was supposed to know that the antique paper she had picked up and hung from the ceiling was stickier than his tongue? She loved how it curled around like a streamer and she thought all the little black flying creatures on it were neat.
The only disappointment she had discovered about her new friend and co-pilot was that he didn’t turn into a handsome prince when she had kissed him one night. Skeeter sighed heavily when she remembered her disappointment. She had been sure he would change as he had looked like all the frogs in the old books. Instead, he had shuddered and made her promise to never try to kiss him again.
“Thanks, Froget,” Skeeter replied. “Tower, never mind about the bumpers. Frog got the rear thrusters working so I’ll come in backwards.”
“Lulu Belle, this is Tower One, please hold formation while traffic is cleared from the area,” a warm voice replied.
“Oh dear, sorry about that,” Skeeter whispered as she turned her short-range, class IV Trident freighter at the last minute so that she could back in between two larger long-range ships that were docked in the repair bays next to the one she had been given. The sound of metal on metal echoed through the small freighter briefly as it scraped the side of one of the larger ships as she tucked herself between them. “Tower, never mind about clearing the traffic. I was able to dock.”
“Confirmed. Locks have been engaged, Lulu Belle, and the connection duct has sealed to the rear access door,” the Tower replied. “Welcome to Newport Space Station. I’ll warn everyone you have arrived.”
“Thank you, Artamis,” Skeeter replied warmly. “How is Tila doing?”
“Her hair is almost back to normal since your last visit. I like it blue, by the way, so please leave it that way. I’ll warn my mate you have docked and will be stopping by to visit. Oh, and Skeeter,” Artemis, the Tower controller replied with a hint of laughter in his voice. “Governor Erosa asks that you try to avoid Level 2 while you are here.”
“You know it wasn’t my fault that Bulldog went nuts!” Skeeter complained as she went through the procedure of shutting down the engines. “Lucas should have known better than to try to hire me to deal with illegal transport. I could have been in trouble with the Confederation if it hadn’t been for daddy telling me what Lucas was up too. How is he by the way?”
“Lucas just got out of rehab,” Artemis replied dryly. “They had a hard time re-growing his missing fingers. A very unusual problem considering his species.”
Skeeter winced. Lucas was an Octoply. A species that had four arms, four legs and a dozen fingers on each hand. Her dad, Bulldog, had removed four of them on each hand when he found out Lucas had tried to use Skeeter for some unauthorized ‘deliveries’. Granted, Lucas had offered her a lot of credits to do it, but she could have been in big trouble if the Confederation boarded her small freighter.
It would have been her first run for him and her most profitable since she took over the Lulu Belle. When she had shared her new contract with Bulldog, she had been surprised when he had calmly informed her that it had been cancelled at the last minute.
Skeeter later learned that her dad had paid a visit to Lucas. By the time he got done, Level 2 had been pretty much destroyed. She grimaced again when she thought of how many fingers the Octoply would’ve had to regrow.
Skeeter turned when Frog jumped down out of his seat with a loud curse. She blinked when he peered out of the portside window, then glared back at her again. She knew from the tight look around his mouth that he was upset about something she did – again. It was the fly paper look all over again.
Sighing heavily, she turned in her chair and crossed her arms across her generous chest. “Okay, what now?” She asked belligerently.
“You don’t know?” Frog asked in disbelief. “Didn’t you hear the sound of metal scraping? You know, that loud, I hit something, sound?”
Skeeter shrugged and dropped her hands to the well-worn arms of the captain’s chair. “It wasn’t that bad. It wasn’t as loud as the last time. I’m not very good at backing up. Besides, it couldn’t have been all that terrible. None of the alarms went off this time.”
Froget Horntip looked at the pale human female pouting back at him. He had joined her crew at the last minute as a favor to her adoptive father. What the enormous Razor-tooth Triterian saw in the fragile creature biting her lower lip and looking for all the world like she didn’t have a clue why he was so upset with her, Froget would never know. There was no way he would ever question Bulldog about his decision, though. Bulldog had a reputation of slashing, mutilating and digesting those who did.
Instead, he glanced once more at the large Confederation warship docked in the repair bay next to them. It now had a long…, Forget grimaced as his eyes moved over the mark,… a very, very long pink scrape down the side. He would have to fix it before the female decided she would. He shuddered as he remembered Bulldog’s dire warning if anything happened to his precious but very stubborn daughter.
“Protect her, don’t let any men near her and for Goddesses’ sake, don’t let her out into space. The girl doesn’t have a single ounce of survival instinct in her body. She lives life to the fullest. I love her the way she is. Make sure she stays that way, Froget, or else.”
“How do you…?” Froget remembered starting to say before the look in Bulldog’s eyes turned them to a burning red. “Life… fullest… no men, no space, protect at all cost… got it.”
“Good,” Bulldog grinned, showing off row after row of sharp teeth. “The last bodyguard I sent didn’t.”
Froget looked at the clear, liquid-filled cylinder behind Bulldog and turned a very pale green at the lifeless floating body in the tank. With a sharp nod, Froget had hurried out of Bulldog’s towering office. For once, he wished he had chosen a different profession than bodyguard for a living. He had a feeling he might not have a very long life expectancy in his new position.
Chapter 3
Krac nodded to Rorrak as he pulled the curved blade out of the body of the second man standing outside the door to the room holding Anastasia Miller. He silently counted to three as his hands tightened around the bloody blades. In the back of his mind, he had already mapped out the room and was calculating the probable location of the remaining male.
Raising his left foot, he kicked the door open and surged through before it had a chance to hit the floor. Twisting, he froze in mid-turn as a figure stepped out from the wall next to where the door once stood and held a laser pistol firmly against Rorrak’s temple. The cold fury burning in the depths of the blue eyes staring at him caused him to raise an eyebrow.
“Don’t kill him. He’s with me. He thinks you are going to want him to carry your ass out of here,” Krac said in a calm voice.
“Like that will ever happen,” Anastasia retorted with a roll of her eyes. She dropped her arm to her side. “Who the hell are you?”
Rorrak muttered a silent curse as he released a deep breath. His eyes swept over the blood staining the back of the body on the floor before he turned to glare at the female who had taken him by surprise. Brilliant blue ones stared back at him. Another curse, this one not so silent, escaped him when he felt an uncomfortable jolt in his chest. The overwhelming urge
to run like hell and knowing he couldn’t held him paralyzed.
“Is he slow or something?” Anastasia asked sarcastically. “I know he can speak from his muttered curse but that doesn’t mean much, so can my parrot but the damn bird still picks on the cats.”
“I am not slow,” Rorrak growled in a low voice. “You are hurt,” he snarled as his eyes roamed over her face before his eyes darkened dangerously on her torn shirt. “How bad?”
Anastasia’s eyebrow rose at the huge Zion warrior’s tone. “Not as bad as that asshole. Now, if we can shelve the twenty questions for later, I’d like to get out of this shithole.”
“We have company,” Krac replied, tilting his head to the side. “They have found the bodies upstairs.”
“Damn it all to hell,” Anastasia muttered. “Is there another way out of here?”
“Yes, down the far end and to the right. There is another set of stairs leading up. It should take you close to my starship. Rorrak, take Anastasia and go. I will kill the others,” Krac ordered.
“How will you get back to the Conqueror?” Rorrak asked.
“I’ll use the transport that just arrived. Don’t damage my starship. I’m partial to the modifications I made to it,” Krac ordered. “Now go.”
*.*.*
Krac walked out of the room. He knew Rorrak would protect Anastasia, not that she wasn’t capable of holding her own against most adversaries. The mistake the mercenary in the other room made was being alone with the human female. Krac had witnessed Anastasia in action before and had trained with her.
He wanted information before he left and he couldn’t get it with Rorrak and Anastasia here. There were times when it was best that he was alone. There were things about the Alluthans that had been hidden in their DNA and the genetic information encoded in the implants that the humans had never found. There was a reason the Alluthans used a link to control those within their forces. The humans would never really know just how lucky they were to have Gracie Jones on their side.
Krac took the stairs leading to the upper floor two at a time. He burst out of the entrance, startling the four men standing near it. The curved blades in his hands found their mark as the bodies fell. His eyes swept the long corridor, stopping on one peculiar male who was giving orders. That was the male he wanted.
He turned as several males fired their laser pistols at him. His hands arched, turning the blades flat so the short energy bursts ricocheted off them. Three men fell. The two remaining men began backing up, firing continuously at him.
Krac’s eyes narrowed as they backed toward the staircase leading up. He couldn’t take a chance on the man he wanted escaping. With a flick of his wrist, he sent one of the blades through the air into the chest of the mercenary next to his main target. The force of the throw impaled the man into the stone wall as the tip of the blade cut deep.
He pulled a smaller knife from the sheath in his boot and threw it next. The scream of his target as it sank deep into his right thigh echoed loudly in the long, narrow passageway. Krac walked slowly to where the man half lay, half crawled up the stone stairs.
He reached over and jerked the blade out of the man, ignoring him as he fell to the floor. Using the tip of his boot, he caught the fallen laser pistol and sent it flying against the wall. He bent over the fallen human male, grabbing the man’s left wrist when he tried to bring his own blade around to stab him in the throat.
Krac shook his head as he felt the bite of the blade against his cheek instead. With a soft tsk, he broke the man’s wrist. He ignored the choked, agonized cry. There would be much more before he was done.
Raising his hand to his cheek, he wiped some of the seeping blood onto his fingers before wiping it along the man’s temple. Soon, he would have the information he wanted. He focused, watching in satisfaction as the male paled. Within seconds, there was no evidence of the cut that had marred his cheek just moments before.
“You have information I want,” Krac said calmly. “Information that you will tell me.”
“Go to hell,” the human male spit out.
Krac’s eyes gleamed dangerously as he gazed at the defiant eyes glaring back at him. Satisfaction coursed through him that he alone had the ability to draw out the information that he wanted. With a swift command, the nano-bots in the blood he had spread across the human’s temple reacted to his command. They seeped through the male’s pores and into his blood stream. Their destination, the male’s brain.
“I was born there,” Krac responded as he saw sweat begin to bead on the man’s brow. “What is your name?”
The man’s mouth tightened before his eyes glazed with pain. “Adders Weston.”
“Who do you work for?” Krac asked.
“None… none… The New Order,” Weston groaned, raising his good hand to his head. “Stop. Please, stop.”
Krac’s lips curved upward. “Tell me how you were able to kidnap Anastasia Miller.”
“I….” Blood began to seep from Weston’s nose as he fought against the probes searching for information. “Hinders told her about Gracie Jones. He promised to take her to meet her.”
“Who is Hinders?” Krac pressed. “Is he in charge?”
“One of Miller’s new bodyguards. He was here, with Miller. Dead,” he choked out in a hoarse voice. “Probably dead if you are here.”
“How did you know about Gracie Jones?” Krac bit out as he downloaded the flashing images rushing through Weston’s brain.
“Orders came down… from the source. Don’t know who. The orders come in encrypted. We were told to capture her,” Weston moaned, pressing his fingers into his eyes. “Orders came down to capture Gracie Jones and return her to Earth.”
Krac’s mouth tightened. “Why?”
“New Order. For the New Order. To gain control. Wanted information… that Jones has. Don’t know anything else. Oh God, make it stop!” Weston cried out, pulling at his hair. “Make the pain stop!”
Krac sent a silent command to the nano-bots he released into Weston. He had the images he needed, but they were disjointed. It would take days to piece the fragments together. One piece that came to him was the key to decipher the encrypted code he downloaded earlier. Perhaps there was additional information in the message.
With a single thought, he ordered the nano-bots to self-destruct in Weston’s brain. The miniature explosions shredded the thick brain matter in seconds. Krac pulled his small dagger from the thigh of the dead male and stood up. His brain quickly inserted the key into the message and translated it.
A cold rage built inside as the order formed in his mind. It was time to pay Kordon Jefe a visit. Gracie was in danger once again.
Chapter 4
“What in the hell happened to the side of your warship?” Krac asked as he walked into the conference room off the bridge. “And where is Anastasia Miller?” He added when he noticed the absence of the human female.
Grand Admiral Bran Markus grimaced as muffled chuckles echoed around the room. Cooraan, the Conqueror’s Chief Engineer, Captain Leila Toolas, the Chief Medical officer, Lazarus, the new Security Officer, and Rorrak all sat around the table. Instead, his sharp gaze swept over the male who worked specifically with Anastasia Miller’s elite security team in conjunction with Roarrk Jefe’s team which worked for the head council on Paulus.
“She is resting,” Toolas explained. “I gave her a mild sedative despite her protests. She needed rest in order to heal.”
“How badly was she injured?” Krac asked with a frown.
“Superficial wounds mostly,” Toolas replied lightly, looking over at Rorrak when he sat forward. “She will be fine.”
“Was she raped?” Rorrak asked harshly.
Toolas stared into the dark, flashing eyes and shivered. Both this male and the one that just walked in frightened her even though she knew they would never harm her. Both males held an air of barely controlled restraint. She sat back in her chair when the huge gray male took a step closer when she didn’t a
nswer right away.
Shaking her head, she quickly gave them what information she could without violating patient-healer confidentiality. She breathed a sigh when the new male finally sat down in the chair across from her. When she was finished, she quickly stood and excused herself.
Krac watched as the older female walked out the door. He turned and looked at Rorrak first. He had begun piecing the images from Weston together and he wasn’t liking what he was seeing.
“You have to stay with Anastasia Miller and protect her,” Krac stated. “The plot to kill the members on the council is larger than we originally thought. They want to use her and they want Gracie Jones for some reason. They think she has information they need.”
Rorrak scowled as did the other men sitting around the table. “What information?” He demanded. “Kordon needs to be informed.”
“I will be heading there. The Conqueror needs to return to Earth with Anastasia. She has to be there for the vote next week. All of you must make sure that she is kept safe,” Krac said, shooting each male at the table a look that warned them if they failed. “I will meet with your brother and Gracie. The human did not know what information the leader was wanting from her, just that she held information that would help them.”
“We will head there immediately,” Bran said quietly. “Cooraan, make sure we are running at full capacity. Lazarus, I want you and Rorrak to meet with Ms. Miller and find out everything you can about her abduction. I want names, positions, diagrams of the Parliament building, everything. When are you leaving for Zion?” He asked as he turned back to Krac.
“As soon as my ship is ready,” Krac responded. “A crew is preparing it now. So, what happened to yours? You do know you have a long pink line down the side, don’t you?”
