by Reagan Woods
“You’re starting to remind me of Lyon, dude,” Lacy’s voice gave him a jolt.
Guiltily, he snapped his eyes up to meet hers. “Er- What?”
“You’ve been staring holes in the back of my head for the past hour.” Her chair swiveled to face him fully. “Got something you’d like to say?”
He shook his head, hands wrapping around the edge of his chair and squeezing to release some of the tension. “Just thinking. I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.”
“I’m more curious than uncomfortable.” She patted the seat of his chair invitingly. “Come, sit and tell me what’s on your mind.”
Why the pretty demand surprised him, he couldn’t say. He slid into the chair and waited to see what she’d do next.
“What’s up?” She asked, a look of polite interest on her face.
“Just running scenarios,” he responded gruffly. He should be embarrassed that she caught him staring and now called him out on his behavior. He wasn’t. Instead, he was eager to see where she’d lead the conversation. She’d been far too quiet and biddable over the last day.
Lacy nodded her understanding. “See, I’d buy that, but you aren’t that quiet when you plan.” She gestured to his holographic interface. “You mutter and look stuff up before you slide it over for Zocan or Lyon to check out. So. What’s going on?”
“When did you become so observant?” Bram deflected with an easy smile. He loved sparring with her, loved watching the color rise in her face when her temper threatened to take over.
She bit the inside of her cheek and seemed to pull inside herself for a moment. “I think,” she answered slowly, challenge lighting her eyes as she pinned him with them. “I really started to hone my skills when I realized knowing what a man was thinking could keep me from getting hurt. In fact, it could keep me alive or even earn a fat tip.”
Understanding dawned. Lacy was more like Sesk’aa than he’d imagined. “Some males will inflict harm no matter how you attempt to disarm them.”
“That’s true,” she agreed, tapping a finger contemplatively against her plump lower lip. “But I don’t think you’re that kind.”
Bram swiveled his chair to face her directly and kicked his long legs out between them. Folding his hands over his stomach, he slumped lazily in his chair, a smile curling his lips. “What kind am I?” He genuinely wondered what she’d say.
“That’s what I’m trying to discern,” she admitted softly. “I watched you bring that last group of prisoners into the camp in old Texas territory. You weren’t gentle with them. Yet, here, you’ve been a little bossy and dickish but never abusive.”
Lacy had admitted she knew who he was when she first awoke. If she blamed him for the condition of those derelicts, he could see why she had initially feared him. “Believe it or not, we found them that way.”
Her skeptical frown made him smile. “I have no reason to lie. Sometimes issuing a beating – or worse – is,” he paused to scratch his stubbly cheek. “Was, I guess, part of my job description. I didn’t. That time.”
“Bram, what will we do if you can’t find someone to take me back to Earth?” She changed the subject abruptly.
Thinking about entrusting her to another male made him angry. He didn’t want to do it, but he’d given his word. If she wanted to go back to Earth, back to Earth she would go. Of course, he’d have to find a spot nearby to watch how she fared. That would be dangerous as he would likely be a wanted criminal by then.
Also, there was the issue of her taking his advice and accepting a Protector from among his brother Warriors. His vision went black for a moment, and he clenched his fists against the rage that crashed through him. No, Earth was not a good solution for Lacy, but she needed to come to that on her own.
It took effort to calm himself, to find his voice. When he did, he was shocked at how level he sounded. “We will deal with that when it comes, Lacy,” he told her confidently, turning back to his console. “I don’t think it will be an issue.”
Of course, if he had his way, he would take her back to Doranos Space, to Cuva, where he would spend his days playing guide and his nights next to her. Not that he believed Lacy would ever be his. He didn’t. Yet, he couldn’t face letting her go.
Physically keeping her would be easy, but he didn’t want to force himself on her. Keeping her dependent on him wasn’t the goal either. His pride demanded she come to him willingly or not at all. If only he could get his heart on board with that plan.
Chapter 21
Days Later
“When do you think we’ll catch sight of him?” Lacy asked. She’d asked some variation on that theme a legit million times in the last several days. Since they couldn’t leave the bridge for long for fear of missing the action, she asked him again.
Bram, pink eyes blood-shot with fatigue, answered calmly, “I think it will be a day or so still.” For the most part, they were back to their prickly friendship and she was glad for it. If she occasionally caught him giving her strange looks, she ignored it or chalked it up to residual disgruntlement.
“But why?” She whined. This stress was screwing with her chi. Taking turns sleeping on the floor was killing everyone’s mood. She’d even heard Zocan and Lyon snapping at one another the previous evening.
A muscle ticked in Bram’s jaw. He didn’t grace her with an answer. Not that they hadn’t hashed and rehashed his rationale. They had but the silence was oppressive. She would gladly have a conversation they’d already had again and again if it meant getting out of her own head and away from the dark thoughts of her uncertain future.
“What if we stop here and loose the special rounds? Isn’t that like choosing our own battle field?” She pressed for lack of anything else to do. He wouldn’t go for it, but she needed a distraction. An argument would do just fine, too.
Face cracking into a reluctant smile, Bram tousled her hair. It would have annoyed her before, but she was glad for the banter now. “You’re feisty and I like that about you,” he laughed. “But this is not the ideal site for us to take on a hunter with superior resources. It’s too far for our ship to limp to any of the Dead Zone’s attractions from here. Which means he will likely attack soon. Be patient.”
“Argh,” Lacy let out a frustrated sigh. “What can we do to force his hand?”
“We’re doing everything we can,” he answered, going back to the monotony of scanning the data as it streamed in.
“Do you believe he’s alone?” Lacy mimicked Bram’s dedication and kept her eyes on her own unchanging display as she asked the question. Elevating his opinion of her was becoming a bit of an obsession. It mattered that he like her enough to want to keep her alive. That’s what she told herself, anyway.
If her skin still tingled where his fingers had brushed her scalp, she wouldn’t acknowledge it – or the fluttery feeling in her stomach when he smiled. Nope. Things like that didn’t matter.
After a moment of silence, she turned to see him staring at her, an unreadable expression on his face. “I forget you know so little of the universe. I’m sorry I’ve been impatient with you.”
The apology was unexpected and, really, unwarranted. Bram took his time to explain nearly every facet of anything she asked about. Except the stupid holographic displays.
“You aren’t impatient with me,” she assured, nonplussed. Was he? She’d chalked his cool demeanor up to her unwise decision to test his boundaries and the embarrassing discovery that he found her less than attractive. The resultant blow to her ego was bearable since it put some of her deepest fears to rest. Of course, it raised other issues, but she had to take things one day at a time.
There was that fierce grin again – and the stupid butterflies in her stomach. “In my head, I’m impatient,” he shot back. “But, really, a CORANOS hunter would be a Warrior. I’ve never seen them paired for covert missions, and this mission is definitely not sanctioned by CGA law.”
“How could you possibly know that?”
“Killing lowly pirates, sounds more of a personal vendetta rather than a matter of state,” he answered pensively.
“But these guys,” she wagged a thumb over her shoulder in the vague direction of Zocan and Lyon before continuing, “Attempted to ransom a prince. Surely that gives them a boost on the danger scale.”
Bram’s lips turned down. “I don’t see how. They let Vank go and he stole one of their crew as a payback. That’s embarrassing. So, why escalate things? Why not just move on?”
“Do you think they’re after the pirates because we’re – huh.” She noted an odd ripple in the light of her projection, like a section of space wobbled, blinking out and reappearing. “Did you see that?”
“See what?” Bram craned his neck to study the holographic swath of space before her.
Indicating a section of the pyramid with her index finger Lacy explained, “The projection waivered. I’ve been watching this thing for days now. It’s never done that.”
Pink eyes narrowed, Bram called out something unintelligible to Zocan and Lyon. Zocan brought up a complex holographic chart in the shape of a hexagon above his console and proceeded to swipe a series of commands.
To Lacy’s surprise, his next words echoed in tinny English across the cabin. “Release the bombs here. She’s got a good eye. The hunter is cloaked and nearly within striking distance,” the mechanical voice repeated milliseconds after the words left Zocan’s mouth.
The O of surprise her own mouth formed had Lyon laughing aloud. After a slight lag, the same voice croaked the words in English. “She’s stunned. We can’t go into battle together if we don’t understand one another, Lacy.”
“That’s – uh – handy,” she stuttered, realizing the pirates could understand everything she said. Briefly, she tried to recall what she’d said over the past few days. Had she embarrassed herself where they were concerned? It was too late to worry about that. “What do we do now?”
Grim determination hardening his features, Bram said, “We set the trap.” He swiped across his console, a hexagonal chart covered in foreign runes shined from his three-dimensional station. While she watched, he ran his fingers through a series of runes, the symbols glowing brightly as they were activated.
She expected the ship to rock with the expulsion of the explosives but there was no sound, no movement to indicate they’d fired.
“The cannons have blasted the shells out in all directions. It’s like a minefield that will explode into a protective globe around us,” he reported.
Sure enough, Lacy’s own holoprojection showed a slight ripple at the far edges as the bombs detonated, flinging their miniscule debris into space. “Won’t that register on the assassin’s equipment?”
“Yes,” Zocan answered. “He’ll think we’re incompetent and fired short of his position.”
“Can’t he just fire one of those fancy plasma cannons through the debris field?” Lacy wanted to know.
“Yes and no,” Bram answered. “Plasma cannons require a certain amount of gravitational force to propel them, a wave of artificial gravity that precedes the plasma. That particular oxidative metal vibrates apart when the gravity hits it and disrupts the stream of plasma energy.”
“Huh?” Lacy’s eyes widened and she sat back in her chair as the casual upchuck of gibberish spewed from his mouth.
“Yes,” Bram enthusiastically bobbed his head, clearly mistaking her confusion for admiration. “Plus, the metal gets even smaller but remains a danger to his ship.”
“Wow,” she slid a look in his direction. “You’re a nerd.”
His posture slumped, chest deflating a bit. “You’re not the first person to make that observation.”
“I – it isn’t a bad thing,” she assured. “It quite possibly could save our lives. I’m just surprised. You don’t look the type.”
Chapter 22
Bram shrugged off the insult as they waited for the killer’s play. Lacy was right, he was a nerd. Mechanics and hunting were all he’d known before joining the Warriors. His hunting prowess on the outskirts of Cuva Proper had earned him the reputation of the best guide in the jungle. In the off-season, when it was too muggy and hot for even the bravest of sport hunters, he had taken in repair work to supplement the household income.
Pushing thoughts of home from his head, he focused on the data pouring across his holoscreen. He didn’t want to miss his adversary’s next move. Even with a damaged ship, a Warrior trained in covert assassinations was a threat and not to be taken lightly.
Lacy had read the blip in her holoscreen as more than a mechanical hiccough. The disturbance was so minute the equipment didn’t even register the change. Part naive Earther and part experienced female, she was a constant surprise, and her instincts were amazing. He had promised to get her out of this mess, but he had a feeling she wouldn’t need as much help as he initially thought.
“He’ll be making his move momentarily,” Zocan said. Bram heard the echo in English. He admired the pirate’s ingenuity, but he couldn’t help wondering if this had been the goal of scanning Lacy’s brain the whole time. Cutting him out as the middle man between them and Lacy was certainly convenient if they had occasion to renege on their deal.
He silently vowed to keep her close, just in case. For reasons he didn’t care to identify, the thought of this sassy, head-strong female being held against her will didn’t sit well with him.
Bram held his breath as something flickered across his holoscreen. “His cloak is failing,” he reported aloud. “But his speed isn’t slowing.”
Enhancing a section with his fingertips, Bram squinted to discern the make and model of the ship. It wasn’t easy as the stealth cloak tried to heal itself, the effect causing a smear over the enemy ship he had to squint to see through.
“It’s a Black Wing.” Bram determined. “He’s fast and his weapons are powerful. He’s almost within firing range,” he warned loudly.
“I hoped he would be rather more adversely effected by our surprise.” Zocan coolly checked their shields and took position behind the flight controls, rotating their ship so most of their camouflaged guns were facing the enemy’s approach.
“Give it time,” Bram answered. “He’s not close enough for the next volley.”
Lyon’s intent stare didn’t leave his cannon interface. “Lacy, pull up your targeting system, love.”
A quick check showed she was already employing the complex stabilizing program to ensure her guns were ready to chase a rapidly moving target. “On it!” In an aside to Bram, she asked, “How close will you let him get?”
“He’s got to pull much closer,” he admitted, tracing a pattern on his screen to indicate where the assassin needed to be. “We’re going to have to take a few hits to lure him in.”
“But we can handle it?” She prodded.
“The pirates might look like lay-abouts, but they’ve been hard at work reinforcing the shields,” Bram assured, checking her reaction. No matter her prowess on the simulator, a battle situation was different and involved real consequences. Lacy’s eyes were intent, her hands steady, he noted, relieved.
“Insurance,” she surmised with a sharp nod. “Good to know.”
Her calm acceptance of the situation made her infinitely sexier. He didn’t understand how that was possible and there was no time to ponder it.
“Time to test the upgrades, darling,” Zocan observed to Lyon, wincing as his echo repeated in English. “Well, that’s annoying. He’s opened fire. Brace for impact!”
The blast barely registered, causing only a slight tremor in the floor. Lacy cocked her head as their return fire rocked the Black Wing causing its cloak to slip completely. “His ship looks like a sting ray.”
Bram pulled up the central munitions computer and loaded the next round of doctored ammo. “A little closer,” he willed the enemy ship. “Come on, be brave.”
“He’s within range for the cannons,” Lyon reported as Zocan fired their thrusters, pushing their ship str
aight up at great velocity to clear another volley. The sudden acceleration and subsequent deceleration had everyone clutching their stations. Bram had been in hundreds of conflicts, but his stomach always wanted to heave after such a maneuver.
“A little warning next time, please,” Lacy choked. It was difficult to tell if she was laughing or crying. A quick glance revealed a green pallor to her skin, but her expression remained determined.
“Saucy wench,” Zocan cackled. “You should be grateful for my astounding reflexes.”
Ignoring their byplay, Bram directed his answer to Lyon, “We want to permanently disable him, at the very least. Ideally, we can lure him a bit closer and hit him with enough debris to break his ship apart.”
“It’s not enough to divert him for now?” Lacy butted in.
Gravely, he answered, “If he’s got the means to fight, he won’t stop until we’re dead.”
“If it’s him or us,” Lacy bared her straight teeth, “I’d rather he drew the death card.”
“Here, here!” Lyon agreed heartily, his enjoyment of the violence on full display.
Zocan laughed as he increased velocity, no longer playing mouse to the hunter’s cat. They charged the flat black ship at the freighter’s top speed.
“On my mark,” Zocan called. “Three. Two. Fire!”
Lacy, Bram and Lyon let their missiles fly as one, watching the displays intently as the bombs detonated, projecting the oxidizing shrapnel forward.
“Yes!” Lacy cheered as the Black Wing turned and began limping away, small pock marks appearing on its sleek surface. “Wait. He’s getting away!”
“There’s no place for him to go,” Lyon pointed out reasonably as Zocan slowed their vessel.
“Um…not to sound too blood thirsty, but shouldn’t we hunt him down?” She arched a brow, looking to Bram for support.
“Chasing him doesn’t fit with our timetable,” he denied, glancing past her to see Zocan was already turning their nose to Xani. “There’s no place for him to go and we have to get clear of the debris field without damage.”
