The Fated Stars

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The Fated Stars Page 9

by Veronica Scott


  “So how will you convince me then?” she asked with a mischievous look, her voice breathy.

  He removed his hand, smiling at her gasp of protest and came over her, thrusting his aching cock into her velvet depths. “Like this,” he whispered while he could still form sentences, before the effect of her body’s skillful response stole his senses utterly. “Your body and mine know each other, recognize the bond between us, even if you won’t accept the depth and integrity of my feelings for you. Yet. I’ll never stop trying to plead my case.” With more willpower than he thought he possessed, he stopped for a moment, allowing himself to rest inside her, clasped by her powerful muscles.

  Startled, she wriggled underneath him, which caused the most arousing pressure on his shaft. “Why did you stop?”

  He pushed her damp hair away from her face, framing it with his hands. “I never met a woman like you or had the intense feelings you create in my heart about anyone else.” He allowed himself to thrust forward fractionally. “You’re unique and you’re mine, as I’m yours. To say anything else to you would be a lie. You cannot lose me, I promise. You’ve filled my heart.”

  “Shut up and kiss me.” She rose up to demand a kiss at the same time she did adjusted her hips in a sensual swivel that pulled him deeper into her core.

  He did as requested, not sure if she’d accepted his declaration, but satisfied she was receptive to what he was trying to convey. As he gave in to the overwhelming pleasure she was bestowing, he vowed silently to one day find the right words to reassure her. To allow her to feel safe enough to make her own declaration.

  For now, he’d have to be content with the message her body and her actions were giving him. It wasn’t enough—he wanted all of her, with no reservation on her part, no fear of abandonment, but he had time and patience on his side.

  The next week was probably the best few days of her life, Larissa thought more than once. As the ship flashed through hyperspace toward their destination, she and Samell made leisurely love to each, but not all their time was spent in her bunk or his. She had a top of the line workout room on the Valkyrie Queen and invited Samell to join her there. Sparring in unarmed combat was good exercise, and he taught her a few new techniques from his own training on Tulavarra.

  “I wish you had swords,” he said, surveying the equipment racked on the walls. “Or quarter staffs.”

  “So you could beat me at a game I’ve never played?” She laughed, happy they’d each scored a takedown in their last round of hand to hand combat. Being a professional soldier, she’d expected to beat him every time but he had a few tricks new to her. Apparently part of his priestly training had involved extremely intense martial arts.

  “So I could teach you and then watch you surpass your teacher,” he corrected. “You’re a warrior born.”

  “Maybe someday we can get our hands on swords,” she said. “I’m more of a blaster girl but, in the service, the trainers made sure we could hold our own if we got cornered.”

  He studied her armory, which lay on the other side of the training space. “How do your people kill the Shemdylann?”

  She shook her head. “It’s not easy. Bastards have all that natural body armor, only a few vulnerable points.” She requested a trideo of a Shemdylann from the AI and showed him as the image rotated in midair. “Here, where the neck meets the body is best, but you couldn’t do it without a blaster. No one could, not even me. He’d be tearing you apart with his pincers if you got close in.”

  Samell mimicked throwing a knife. “A well-aimed dagger?”

  “You’d have to be incredibly lucky. And even if you killed the one, surely you saw how they hunt in hordes. Six more of them would be swarming you. The aliens don’t much care about their lives either. Kill one or even a hundred and they keep coming, if their superiors order an attack. Fearsome enemies, but not too smart, comparatively speaking. Although in briefings we were told the higher ranking soldiers and the female admirals are dangerously clever.”

  “We were so sure our death song would protect us.” His face was set in lines of pain and sadness. “A group of us huddled on the upper battlement at my temple, while our forces died to buy us time, and we sang the same song you heard me use to save us the night we escaped the carnival. But it had no effect on the aliens.”

  Larissa shrugged. “Shemdylann are about as far from humanoid as you can get. Stands to reason they’d be immune. Your power works on the emotions, right? And their society, not to mention the way the creatures perceive the universe, is totally different.”

  He straightened and visibly changed his train of thought. “If you can’t teach me to kill my most hated enemy, I know what you can teach me.”

  “And the topic would be?”

  “I want to learn about the Sectors.”

  She laughed. “That’s a tall order. Any special starting point?”

  “Written Basic would be best.” His answer was serious. “The Shemdylann did something to enable us to understand the spoken language—”

  Larissa tapped the side of her head. “Yeah, I have hypno implants for quite a few languages myself, including Shemdylann. The military likes to fill us up with stuff the brass believes might be useful under the right conditions.” She repressed the memories of certain enhancements she hoped she’d never need. “The aliens probably used similar tech. The Mawreg and their client races aren’t backward when it comes to science and engineering.”

  “I want to learn more about the history and politics of the Sectors,” Samell said as he followed her to her cabin for a shower. “If I’m going to live here for the rest of my life, there’s much I should understand. One of the primary duties of a priest, especially one at my level, was to study, to learn, to constantly question and find answers, in order to be a better leader.”

  Turning, she ran her hand over his taut abdomen and let her fingers slip under the waistband of his shorts. “I know what I want to study.”

  “And I’m eager to assist you,” he said with a laugh and a nip at her ear lobe. “There’s much I have to learn about you.”

  He picked her up and carried her into her cabin as he’d done the first night they slept together, although this time he headed for the bathroom and the large shower. Larissa hadn’t stinted on the fixtures there either when she had the ship redone to her specifications. Now she was extremely glad, because she’d discovered the joys of sharing a hot shower with an eager and skillful partner.

  After dinner in the ‘evenings’, they fell into lingering in the wardroom over synth coffee, while Samell studied various subjects catching his eclectic interest and Larissa surfed the interstellar databases, searching for more information on Kinterow or any reference to others from Tulavarra. While she listened to him debate the AI about an obscure historical political event and current Sectors policy on a related matter, all of which bored her to tears, Larissa sipped her hot beverage. She allowed herself to dream just a little what it might be like to make this arrangement permanent. To have Samell as her partner in the mercenary business. She had no doubt he could become proficient with the more modern weapons, and his empathic skills brought another dimension to the kinds of assignments she could bid for. To have a partner she could trust at her back again, as it had been in the Special Forces, on the Teams, would be amazing.

  I wasn’t in love with any of them, though.

  Setting to work cleaning one of her service blasters, she paused to watch him as he pondered a new set of information the AI had provided him. Try as she might, she couldn’t imagine Samell settling into the relatively uncomplicated life of a mercenary, not even with her. What could he do in the Sectors with all those smarts and energy, though? Especially with no credits and no legal status. She reviewed in her head the best places to get him high quality fake ID.

  “What are you thinking?” he said with a laugh as he studied her demeanor. “Such a serious face.”

  Rather than explain herself, she gave him a partial truth. “Planning
our next steps, once we reach the destination. Running scenarios.”

  “Do you mind I’m spending so much time on your history and politics?” he asked.

  “Not at all, as long as you don’t ask me to debate you.” She shrugged. “I got through the required history classes with a passing grade, and I haven’t needed to know a tenth of those facts since. I’m not much on sitting and thinking about the long dead past. Give me a task to do and I’ll get it done.”

  “You have your own knowledge and expertise.” He reached across the table to clasp her hand. “We’re a good complement. You and I meet in the middle of our specialties.”

  Larissa had her first real argument with Samell once she’d landed at the small spaceport serving the planet. “I’m going out alone to reconnoiter the town, check out the fairgrounds, see what’s what with this other Kinterow operation,” Larissa said as the AI put the Valkyrie Queen into ground mode. “No one can get into the ship, but I’ve given you voice access to control the AI if anything happens to me. She can get you back to the Cherram system or she has an emergency contact to call if you prefer to try getting in touch with Sectors authorities with your situation.”

  Samell stared at her, his emerald-and-gold eyes sparking with anger. “You are not going alone. Of course I’ll go too. I can use my power on any problem we encounter, or my throwing knives, or even the blaster. But I’ll not let you venture into danger without me.”

  Larissa continued donning her weapons and brushed past him on her way to the airlock. “I’m the mercenary here, I know the drill on these remote worlds. I’ll give out a cover story about a phony job for public consumption, check out the bars, do the things I’ve done hundreds of times on legitimate assignments. I’ll be fine, don’t worry. I can take care of myself.”

  “I know you can, but you’re only in this situation because of me.” He leaned against the bulkhead, watching her. “I have to do my share.”

  “I’m not questioning your courage or your value in the field,” she said patiently. “Me by myself, no problem. You, with your distinctive hair and skin, potential problem. Especially if any of Kinterow’s people are wandering around, or if someone else has seen this carnival’s seer—if this carnival even has one—and connects the two of you.” Struck by a thought, she paused. “Are you detecting any hints of another Tulavarran here?”

  “My ability doesn’t work that way.”

  “Too bad.” She came to him and brushed his cheek with a quick kiss. “I understand you’re worried about me, and I don’t mind. It’s kind of nice actually. I also know you’re eager to see if there’s another one of your people here. But, right now, patience is the best course.”

  He captured her chin with one hand and kissed her hard on the lips. “Swear to me you’ll watch your back. Kinterow is ruthless.”

  Nodding, she opened the air lock and descended the ramp, pausing for the AI to close it behind her, and then entered the spaceport admin building as she would on any other world her job might take her. The place was too small for a Mercenary Guild hall, but she easily found basic information on the town and set off to explore. There were old notices about a festival in town and a carnival flickering here and there on the civic coms boards, so eventually she stopped at a likely bar and got a drink.

  “What’s there to do in this town?” she asked the bartender. “Got time to kill before my buddies arrive. And, no offense to the citizens here, but it’s kinda lacking in amenities.” She raised her glass. “Present surroundings excepted.”

  Stolid expression unchanging, the bartender took her credits. “It’s a rim world, what do you expect?”

  “There was supposed to be a fair,” said another man down the bar. “Ladies and kids here were excited. Big social event, planned stuff around it.” He grimaced. “My wife talked about nothing else nonstop for a month, I swear. My boys too. Lasted two days instead of five and the damn carnies disappeared in the middle of the night. Left all their stuff.”

  “Even the animals,” the bar maid chimed in.

  Larissa kept her poker face. “Skipped town, eh? The owner owe somebody a bunch of credits maybe?”

  “Actually, yeah,” the bartender said. “Expected them to pay us out of their profits on the last day of the event like always. The carnival had been here before, no problems, but they got spooked this time for sure. Maybe trouble followed them here from offworld because for sure we’re a peaceful place.”

  She called for another drink. “Then what?”

  “Sheriff impounded all the equipment, rides, tents, costumes, storing it in a warehouse on the edge of town. Gonna auction it off at the next quarterly meeting to pay the bills. Livestock too.” The man leaned closer. “You want to buy a few exotic animals, merc?”

  “Seven hells no. What would I do with an animal on my ship?” She laughed, got another drink and sauntered over to join a card game in progress in the back corner.

  A few hours later, having won a few pots and lost others, Larissa cashed in her cards and meandered back to the spaceport. She was the picture of a bored, slightly drunk mercenary with too much time on her hands. Staggering slightly as she made her way up the ramp of her ship, she ducked inside and took a deep breath as the portal closed.

  Samell waited eagerly. She supposed the AI must have alerted him to her return. “Well? Is the carnival here? Do they have a seer?”

  “What does my aura tell you?”

  She was teasing, but he apparently took her seriously. “You found information, but there’s disappointment as well.”

  “You’re good.” She ran her hand through her hair. “I need a shower. Care to join me?”

  “You don’t have to ask twice but forget trying to distract me. Are they here or not?”

  “Sorry, I’m single-minded about washing the town’s dust off. Then I might let you distract me. The carnival was here, left suddenly in the middle of the night. Abandoned all their assets, even the animals.” She grinned. “The stuff is stored in a warehouse on the edge of town so I’m thinking a midnight trip to see if they left any clues is in order. Figured we’d both go. You might notice clues I’d miss.”

  Samell frowned. “Why would the crew pull out so suddenly? What would Kinterow be scared of? Surely not us?”

  “I doubt it.” She divulged part of her theory. “I think he’s working in some capacity for the Chimmer, or maybe even the Mawreg themselves, so he might have gotten orders to leave. Maybe his bosses had enough data gathered. We’ll see what we can find out tonight.”

  Larissa lifted the ship off and picked another landing spot inland. These sparsely populated worlds had no rules against unapproved landings, and she didn’t want eyes on her comings and goings. She and Samell geared up, unpacked the speedster and took off for the designated storage on the edge of town. The building was in a cluster of several warehouses so it took Larissa a bit of time to identify their target. She landed and led Samell on a vigorous hike through the overgrown grassland surrounding the buildings. Inspecting the doors and windows revealed no major obstacles.

  “Rudimentary alarms only,” she said, making a few adjustments with a handy device she’d bought on the black market. “Which are now inoperative. Follow me.”

  They snuck into the building through a side door and found themselves in the midst of a huge tangled mess, with equipment, gear, tents and supplies stacked haphazardly in the large empty interior.

  “I guess the locals were pissed off about dealing with the mess Kinterow left.” Hands on her hips, she sighed. “Nothing for it but to take sections and do a fast inspection. You work from the other end.”

  “What exactly are we looking for?”

  “I’d like to examine the seer’s chair if there is one, get a few vids of the markings. See if there’s anything here in the way of records of any kind. The authorities might be able to make sense of stuff you and I would see as meaningless. And, of course, any sign there was another Tulavarran here.”

  “Got it.”
Samell worked his way to the west, using his handlamp cautiously to avoid throwing telltale illumination out the tiny windows edging the ceiling.

  Larissa worked for an hour, not finding anything useful, until she shifted aside a heavy pile of tent material and found the twin to Samell’s throne sitting in front of her on the hard floor. “Found it,” she whispered into her tiny com.

  By the time he joined her, she’d snapped vids of the controls and the Chimmer markings. “The same as yours, yes?” she said, playing the light over it.

  Jaw clenched, he nodded. “So Kinterow did have one of my people here.”

  “Take a look at the arms—I think there might be a word or a name scribbled or marked there.” She shone her light onto the chair and pointed at the wooden arm rest.

  Samell bent close, and added his handlamp’s power to the illumination. “As if the occupant gouged the letters into the wood with his or her fingernails. Wish I’d thought of the idea. Definitely Tulavarran—a name. Vosiriell.” He traced the indentations with his finger.

  “You knew him or her?”

  “No. But it’s a fairly common variation on a Tulavarran woman’s name.” A muscle twitched in his clenched jaw. “I hate to think of anyone enduring what I was put through in my captivity, but especially a woman.”

  “Took her a long time to scratch that into the wood. She had guts.”

  “But where is she now?”

  Larissa took a few more vids. “We may be able to find out. At least now we have solid evidence to present to the authorities, with proof of this Chimmer tech the bad guys used for controls.” She checked her wrist chrono. “We have a few more hours until dawn. Keep searching for anything else useful, okay?”

  “Absolutely.” He returned to his original field of debris, glancing over his shoulder at the chair once as he walked away.

 

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