Rescued by Qaiyaan (Galactic Pirate Brides Book 1)

by Tamsin Ley

  Definitely not corporation.

  “Nnnmm,” she tried to catch his attention, but her tongue was as frozen as the rest of her.

  The man looked over his shoulder, his concerned face reflecting the light as if he’d dusted with that fancy cosmetic powder the men on Enayshu Five always wore. He lacked Enayshuan eye-ridges, but he was definitely alien. “You’re awake. Excellent.”

  Spinning his chair to face her, he thrust one bronze-sheened hand toward her throat. This close, she was struck by how huge he was. She flinched, but he merely pressed his fingertips to her pulse. Manually checking her vitals? Shit, she was on a low-end ship. She felt like she was back in the underbelly of Whylon Station.

  “What happened?” She couldn’t wrap her tongue around the gravelly words, but the man seemed to understand her anyway.

  “We’re not entirely sure. We pulled you off a derelict ship.”

  "Derelict? I don't understand. Who are you?" Her voice sounded better but still slurred.

  “My name’s Mekoryuk, but you can call me Mek. The captain wants to talk to you. I’ll let him know you’re awake.”

  She struggled to sit up, but her body only twitched like a dying fish. “I need to call my brother.”

  "You can barely form words. Stop trying to move." He pressed a solid hand against her collarbone, pinning her to the mattress. "I don't want you exerting yourself until your metabolism stabilizes."

  “But I—”

  Mek’s hand pressed harder. “I’m going to get the captain now. If you fall out of bed it’s your own usviiq fault.”

  Lisa lay still, focusing on her breathing. The pressure of his hand eased, but he kept his gaze on her, as if reassuring himself she would do as instructed. When she didn’t protest, he turned and left the small bay.

  For a few minutes, she simply rested, listening to the beeping of monitors and the slight hum of the ship’s engine. If there was one thing Syndicorp was good at, it was keeping hold of its property. Yet here she was on a strange, very non-corporate ship. Something had gone very wrong. She didn’t care what Mek said about resting; she needed information.

  Inside her head, her tiny robotic nanites were stirring. They swarmed and buzzed at her temple as if curious about the diode connecting her to the med-bay monitors. She was part of a test group for "cyber-sensitive" enhancements; a way to empower human brain waves to interface directly and intuitively with complex computer systems. The nanites were designed to send and receive data impulses, using the host brain's synapses. Doug could hack into a nearby computer system with a mere thought. Lisa wasn't nearly that good and needed to be physically interfaced to hack into a system. Lucky for her, the diode provided just the corridor she needed. Hopefully, the medical computers were tied into the mainframe, and she could encode a call to Syndicorp. She squeezed her eyes closed, instructing the microscopic machines to investigate.

  A voice interrupted her concentration. “How are you feeling?”

  Her lids flew open to meet an electric-blue gaze. She'd thought Mek was handsome, broad-shouldered and roguish with his long, banded hair and clean-shaven face. This new fellow pushed the boundaries of rogue and headed straight to rugged, copper-skinned barbarian. His long hair flowed loosely around his shoulders, dark and wavy, offset by strands of silver that might be a metallic weave, or might be his own hair, she couldn't quite tell. Mostly because his eyes were so damned brilliant and captivating. Above those eyes, a silver loop pierced one dark brow.

  Holy hell, were all the crewmen on this ship hot like this? The man's sensuous lips curved slightly upward, as if he was very used to smiling, although he wasn't at the moment. A well-trimmed mustache and beard tapered to two, tidy braids under his chin. He'd just asked her a question, but her tongue felt too thick in her throat to respond.

  Mek moved around from behind the barbarian at her bedside. “She may take a while to fully recover.”

  The second man raked her body with a gaze that left her tingling for his physical touch. She shuddered right down to her core, confused about this unusual reaction to a man—an alien. She’d been with plenty of guys—okay, a few guys—and not a single one had ever made her feel like this, in bed or out. She was supposed to be resting, but perspiration prickled her skin as if she’d just climbed through the space station’s high-grav service tunnels.

  “I’m Captain Qaiyaan. Can you tell me your name?” The deep timbre of his voice sent thrilling little rockets along her skin.

  “L-lisa. Lisa Moss.” Way to sound like an idiot. She licked her lips, hoping her next words didn’t come out like mud.

  Qaiyaan’s gaze followed the move, then flicked toward Mek, who began tapping at a handheld, probably doing a search for her profile. Good luck with that. Her lips twisted into a smile. Syndicorp had made sure she and her brother disappeared when they'd joined the test group, wiping their slates clean of a handful of crimes and hiding the siblings from the black market cartel that was seeking their heads.

  “Lisa, we’re trying to piece together what’s going on. Why were you in a cryo-pod?”

  Her smile dissolved. One wrong word and both she and her brother would lose everything, including the amnesty that kept them out of the Syndicorp prison mines and the cartel's hands. She blurted out the first thing that came into her head. "Interstellar Myasthenic Carcinoma."

  Shit. She must still be slow from her time in cryo. No one actually came down with IMC anymore. The cancer, caused by unshielded travel through dark nebula, was a barely more than a horror story told by station rats consoling themselves for being stuck station-side.

  Qaiyaan’s eyes rounded a fraction and he shot a glance to his medic, lips forming a thin line. Mek straightened to meet his gaze, his face equally stricken. “I didn’t detect anything during my scans. Let me check again.”

  She scrambled to keep him from digging further and discovering the truth. She could do this. Had pulled cons a hundred times with her brother before the Syndicorp police had reeled them in, giving them a choice between the mines and the test program. Smiling weakly, she played her pity card. “That’s okay, really. I’m on my way to a hospital for treatment.”

  Mek started pushing buttons on her monitors. “What stage are you at?”

  A thread of panic threatened her composure. She had little experience with advanced medical treatments, nanites notwithstanding. Thinking of the microscopic robots roaming her body, she sent them to interfere with the doctor's sensor. Doug probably could've faked a reading for IMC, but she wasn't that skilled. Leaving her nanites to run amok, she focused her attention on the blue-eyed man standing next to her bed. "I—I need to let my brother know I'm okay."

  Qaiyaan shook his head, avoiding her eyes. “I’m sorry. Our comm isn’t set up for long-range boost. You’ll have to wait until we get to a transfer station.”

  “How long will that be?” She fluttered her fingers, trying her damnedest to regain enough coordination to touch him. To her delight, he pulled a seat over and took her hand. His skin was warm and slightly rough as his thumb grazed the back of her fingers. She shivered right down to her nanites, a million little tingling sensors responding to his touch.

  His thumb stilled, as if he sensed something, too, and he stared intensely into her eyes.

  Barely infringing on her awareness, Mek’s fingers probed the diode affixed to her temple. “Hold still. I’m going to swap out the sensor.”

  She shook her head. Her rapid heartbeat was sure to raise some alarms if he got the diode working again. “Don’t bother. Something about my chemistry makes standard technology go haywire. I can’t even wear a ploycom without it fritzing out.”

  “Just let him try, okay?” Qaiyaan squeezed her hand gently.

  Heart racing, she gave him her "brave-but-scared" smile and tried to think like a cancer patient. "I need to get to the hospital on Aleigh right away."

  Mek stopped muttering under his breath and both men stared at her.

  “You were going to the Synd
icorp hospital?” Qaiyaan’s brows drew together.

  Her chest was tight, and she was sure Qaiyaan must be able to feel her trembling. Answering a question with a question was the best way to carry a grift, Doug always said. “Don’t they have the best medical technology?”

  Mek made a grunting noise and returned to making adjustments on his screen. She boosted her nanites to be sure they kept interfering. Qaiyaan shifted his gaze to her fingers, his strangely bronze thumb tracing a thin blue vein on the back of her hand. “You’re quite a ways from Syndicorp space.”

  Oops. Part of the reason they’d put her into cryo-for shipment was to keep her from hacking any systems and discovering where they were taking her. She’d just assumed they’d still be in Syndicorp space. “How far?”

  “Fifteen or twenty parsecs, I’d say. And a long, long way from Aleigh.”

  Calling on skills she hadn’t used in a year, Lisa drew her brows into worried lines. “They told me I was going to Aleigh.” She’d always excelled at drawing out a target’s empathy, playing their emotions to get what she needed. Right now she needed Qaiyaan to stop asking questions and give her access to a comm. “My brother must be crazy with worry. What do you think happened?”

  “You have to watch your back with Syndicorp.”

  “Don’t I know it.” She laughed, then realized she was being too honest. Her doubts about Syndicorp were something she kept deeply buried, even from her brother, who was their star subject. She was fairly certain she hadn’t been sent to the mines or handed over to the Whylon Cartel only because Syndicorp needed him. Her skills with the nanites were abysmal at best.

  Qaiyaan’s fingers tightened against her hand, and he rose. “Mek has some experience with cancer, so just relax and let him do his thing, okay?”

  Her heart sank. Of course Mek would be some sort of cancer specialist. Why hadn’t she claimed to be going to a rehab colony or something? “Please don’t go to any trouble. I’ve already paid Syndicorp for the treatment. I just need to get to Aleigh.”

  Qaiyaan moved to the door, but stopped and looked over his shoulder at her. His blue eyes were wild sparks beneath his deep brow line. “Syndicorp’s probably not your best option at this point. Give Mek a chance. I’ll check back soon.”

  With that, he was gone, leaving the small med bay strangely empty without his presence. All Lisa could do was boost her nanites to fend off the doctor’s repeated scans.

  Chapter Three

  Qaiyaan shook his head as he stomped back to the control room. With effort, he could’ve forced himself to stay away from the med bay and the alluring patient within. But a woman with IMC? Cancer had been all but obliterated except for the rare kinds that took hold without symptoms until it was too late. Like the kind that had destroyed his entire race. Lisa’s arrival was like the ever-sneaky Ellam Cua had connived to taunt him—his entire crew—with memories. Even Mekoryuk was obviously taken by the human female. She was so exquisitely vibrant, despite the lingering effects of the cryo. Despite the disease eating her bones. The perfectly sculpted curves of her body beneath the thin sheet had been difficult to ignore. And when he’d touched her hand… The almost electric jolt at the connection had almost made him wonder if she was Denaidan, too.

  But that wasn’t possible.

  Cancer had wiped every female from existence. Syndicorp had wiped them out. And now they were gunning for Lisa.

  He hadn’t had the willpower to ask her why they might be after her. Hell, they might not even be after Lisa. There could’ve been something on that ship the ‘corp wanted to hide. Syndicorp wasn’t above ancillary damage—they’d proven that on Denaida-Daru. No need to upset her while she recovered. After he’d arranged for her medical attention, he’d explain how Syndicorp had destroyed her ship.

  Sitting heavily in the captain's chair, he began scrolling through the star charts to line up the nearest non-Syndicorp hospitals. The galactic corporation had spread in influence and power since the destruction of his homeworld fifteen years ago. Few in the galaxy even remembered the name of Denaida-Daru, a backwater ag-planet with an indigenous population too empathically sensitive to join the rush-and-bustle of the galactic market. Denaidan women, in particular, were unable to withstand the proximity of other species' unfiltered emotions and desires, making it impossible to leave the planet; they were also the only females who could tame the intense sexual connection of a Denaidan male, a fact Qaiyaan was more aware of than usual with the charcoal-haired beauty lying in his med bay.

  Jaw aching, Qaiyaan dismissed a nearby hospital as having close ties with Syndicorp and pulled up the board members of a second facility to review their names. So many companies these days were mere subsidiaries of the Syndicorp conglomerate. He kept a sharp eye on the movements of Syndicorp’s CEOs and holding companies, exploiting whatever opportunities he could. The few Denaidan men who’d been off-planet during their world’s destruction had formed a loose brotherhood of pirates, determined to make Syndicorp pay for their crime. The annihilation of his species couldn’t be undone, but he’d make Syndicorp pay in whatever ways he could.

  “Captain.” The control room speaker popped with Tovik’s voice, difficult to hear over the hum of the ship’s engines in the background. “You there?”

  "Go ahead." Qaiyaan continuing cross-referencing photos and names with his list of Syndicorp supporters, glad of the recovery stim Mek had provided after the grueling burn. Without it, he'd be laid out on his bunk right now.

  “Have you found a buyer for these supplies yet? The climate control for the lower cargo bay is taking more power than I anticipated.”

  Qaiyaan looked up from the computer and scowled at the gauges on the control room wall. He’d forgotten about the salvaged supplies completely. Over half the inventory had turned out to be medicine, stored in cryogenic cases that were failing just like Lisa’s. Keeping the fragile compounds viable until they secured a buyer had required some hack engineering on Tovik’s part, and the fuel-cell gauges were flickering toward empty. Qaiyaan reassessed the star chart he’d been searching for hospitals. “How far can we get?”

  "Three parsecs at full burn. Perhaps as far as the Bolisare system, but no more than that." Tovik didn't hedge his bets. What he said was the honest truth, no sugar-coating, no buffer for mistakes. "We've had to divert a lot of energy to the shields during the last three burns. That repairman on Finofan must've skimped on some of the hull platings."

  The repairman had skimped, but it was all Qaiyaan had been able to afford. His crew had no idea how fragile this bucket-of-bolts really was—or at least they pretended not to know. He did a quick run-down of the hospital facilities within a three-parsec sphere. Here at the edge of un-classed space, there wasn’t much to be had. There was a garan’uk medical facility six and a half parsecs in, but even if the methane breathers offered services for humanoids, they were known Syndicorp allies, and Qaiyaan was a wanted man.

  He widened the search. There was a Saluqan healing temple on Oruq Nine, four parsecs beyond Bolisare in another un-classified sector. If they stopped and unloaded on Bolisare, they could fuel up and get Lisa to Oruq Nine in a week or so. Did she have that long? Not that he had much in the way of options for her. Mek was a genius in his own right, but the Hardship lacked medical equipment, let alone medicine for humans.

  Adjusting the ship’s heading, he said, “We’ll head to Bolisare. I’ll work on finding a buyer.”

  “Aye-aye, Captain.” The hum of the engine room silenced as Tovik ended communication.

  The Hardship’s last visit to Bolisare hadn’t been an exemplary experience. Noatak’d relapsed on recovery stims and gotten into a brawl with a prominent cartel businessman. The crew’d been forced to break him out of prison. Luckily, Qaiyaan’s contact on the planet was also on the alternate side of the local law. He wouldn’t offer a high price for the salvaged medicine, but at this point, unloading it for cheap was better than having to jettison worthless cargo.

  Feeling guilty
about lying to Lisa about their comm system, Qaiyaan accessed the long-range channel for the planet's black market and sent an encoded message. The communication would take at least twenty hours to reach his contact and another twenty for a return message. By then they'd be almost halfway there. Setting the navigation controls to auto, he headed to the lower cargo bay where they kept the workout equipment. His nerves were jangling from the recovery stims, and he needed to focus his ionic energy if he was going to have a clear head for bargaining.

  He also needed to keep himself from hovering over the luscious human in his med bay.

  Lisa pivoted to sit on the edge of the cot and wrapped the sheet around her, her body still naked from the cryo-pod. Mek had finally left the med bay, muttering about someone named Tovik who might have a fix for his malfunctioning sensors. He was dead-set on getting a reading of her cancer, and she felt bad for putting him through so much work for nothing. But she couldn’t risk exposing the Syndicorp technology. For all she knew, these men were pirates and would sell her off to the highest bidder once they found out what she carried. Her ship’s demise couldn’t have been a mistake. Someone was after her, and she needed to let Doug know where she was. The only way to do that was through Syndicorp.

  Planting her feet on the floor, she wobbled upright. Her feet left the ground unexpectedly, and she threw out both arms to keep her balance. Whoa. The ship’s gravity was barely enough to hold her feet to the deck. The sheet came loose and slithered down around her hips before she caught it and secured it around her breasts again. This was going to be interesting. She moved carefully toward the door. While interfering with the doctor’s scans, she’d determined that the med bay computer was only attached to the internal systems, and she’d need to find one connected to the external comm to get a message out. Her head hurt from controlling her nanites to block the doctor’s probes, but she’d need to use them again in short order.