The Mercenary (The War Chronicles Book 1)

by Petra Landon

The Captain studied her, taking in her obvious discomfort.

  “My ship?” he suggested, careful to make his invitation sound like an offer.

  He was giving her a way out if she felt uncomfortable meeting with him on his ship, she realized. And suddenly, Saakshi felt a little better about her decision.

  Thank the Pura; it’s going to be alright.

  She accepted his offer gratefully, only for her expression to fall as she remembered the restrictions on her.

  “I’m not allowed off the station” she informed him haltingly, using her other hand to pull up her right sleeve and show him the ownership bracelet on her wrist.

  The Captain’s expression tightened while his companion let out a gasp.

  “I’ll take care of it” the Captain stated quietly, his eyes on her bracelet. “Does early afternoon work for you?”

  She let the sleeve fall to hide the bracelet again before agreeing to the time, unsure of what he meant by his cryptic words.

  “I’ll meet you here” he said, the dark eyes steady on her.

  Saakshi skipped away, not daring to believe that she’d committed to an appointment with the Hadari’Kor Captain. There was no going back any more. She would, at the very least, have to make him her offer, for she had run out of time.

  That night, Saakshi studied her reflection in the small, cracked full-length mirror attached to one side of the dormitory. She saw a young Budheya female of average height and a slight body - produced by a lifetime of not having enough to eat, followed by a three-month stint of near-starvation prison diet. Her best feature was a glossy and thick mane of dark brown hair that had been forcibly cut short at the prison. Her first tips from Trader Pik’s when she had arrived at Keeyor 9 had been spent on quality hair wash. Since then, her hair had grown to her shoulders. Decent skin, nicely-shaped - though not spectacular - gray eyes, a small nose, lips with the bottom fuller than she’d like and, she’d been told, particularly pretty shell-like ears with the slightly pointed tip that characterized the Budheya, completed the picture. As she watched the thin girl in the mirror, Saakshi hoped fervently that Pik knew what he was talking about, because she was not entirely sure that the Hadari’Kor Captain would consider taking on the Ketaari male an appropriate exchange for the dubious pleasure of her body.

  Three

  Saakshi waited with trepidation at Pik’s the next day, attired in a fresh pair of Trader Pik’s uniform. The only other clothing she owned was the prison work-suit she had on when Pik had first brought her to this station after buying her prison contract. Too nervous about the upcoming meeting to truly enjoy her rare morning off, she had nevertheless managed to sleep in and enjoy a leisurely shower. Seated at a corner table in Pik’s, it felt strange for Saakshi to watch the other server girls try to keep up with orders and carry out drinks. She kept a watchful eye out for the Hadari’Kor Captain, not quite ready to have any of the servers or patrons observe her leaving Pik’s in his company.

  She needn’t have worried after all, for the Captain proved to be the soul of discretion. He strode in punctually, glancing casually around the open seating area to catch her eye, before walking out unhurriedly. It was done so smoothly that Saakshi felt immediately at ease. Obedient to the discreet signal directed at her, Saakshi waited a few minutes before slipping out to meet him, away from the curious glances of Trader Pik’s patrons. The Captain greeted her with a silent nod, directing a curious glance at her uniform. He plunged onto the walkway bordering Pik’s, gesturing at her to stay close to him. Treading the station in the Hadari’Kor male’s company proved to be a very different experience from Saakshi’s daily commute between Trader Pik’s and her dormitory. Necessity had taught her to be extremely vigilant and very creative in avoiding various groping extremities that many of the male and even a few of the female population seemed to feel was their right on this station. The worst behavior was on the lowest ring of the station that housed the pleasure houses and game pavilions on the Trade Sphere. The Captain cut an easy swath through the crowds, his size, aggressive mien and intimidating stare successfully routing people from his path. Saakshi made sure to stick close to him, following in the wake of the path that his aggressive attitude automatically opened up for them.

  He walked them to the upper ring of the Trade Sphere, which provided access to the station’s numerous docking ports. As they approached the station’s auto exit sensors, he pulled her into a little alcove by the pathway. The exit paths that led to the docking ports teemed with people, but the crowds here were thinner than the hordes that jammed the main walkways of the station. The Captain used his big body to shield her, providing them with a measure of privacy in their little nook.

  “Show me the ownership bracelet” he directed quietly, his eyes on the sleeve of the uniform that hid her bracelet.

  Saakshi pulled up the sleeve just enough to expose the broad bracelet welded to tightly encircle her wrist. The Captain pulled out a tiny, circular and silver-colored disk to attach it efficiently to her bracelet, before tugging down her sleeve to hide the bracelet again.

  He clasped her palm firmly in his larger one to tug her gently towards one of the exit paths. Saakshi resisted, fearful at the knowledge that she was liable to be carted back to prison in breach of contract if any exit sensors detected her presence. That would entail serving out the rest of her sentence in a Ketaari prison, and possibly a longer prison term.

  As she hesitated, the dark eyes glanced down at her.

  “Trust me” he said simply, in his deep, husky voice.

  As her eyes tangled with his, Saakshi reminded herself exactly why she was willing to risk being carted back to a Ketaari prison. Here she was, about to make the riskiest and most dangerous gamble of her young life with this stranger she knew nothing about. Was it a gamble worth attempting, she asked herself one last time. As the picture of the Unta-Golar she would have to face soon rose in her mind, Saakshi hardened her heart. Perhaps this was another sign from the Pura. If she couldn’t even trust this stranger’s word to get her through the auto sensors safely, she might as well give up right now and return to her dormitory.

  He waited, the black eyes on her, seemingly content to allow her to make the decision. Something in the stillness of his body and his attitude of infinite patience pushed Saakshi to acquiesce mutely. He reached for her hand again, the act slow and deliberate, clearly giving her the chance to change her mind. Saakshi took a deep breath to hold onto the warm hand that clasped her smaller one so confidently. He walked them safely through the exit sensors and into a tiny pre-programmed shuttle. Once in the shuttle, Saakshi let go of the breath she had been holding, her heart slowly ceasing its incessant pounding. She slumped against the wall to watch him punch in their destination. Soon, they were on their way, being zoomed directly to a docking port.

  Cocooned in the privacy of the tiny shuttle and almost dizzy with relief, Saakshi turned her awestruck eyes on the Hadari’Kor male.

  “How’d you do that?” she asked him, awed by the ease with which he had circumvented the station’s exit sensors.

  He changed his stance slightly to glance down at her, his eyes glinting with amusement.

  “Managed to impress you, hmm?” the husky voice was slightly teasing.

  Saakshi nodded mutely, amazed by his ingenuity and resourcefulness. Over time, the Budheya rebels had learned to circumvent a lot of Ketaari technology, mostly because it was Budheya technology adapted for and packaged up to look Ketaari. But she had never seen anyone bypass auto sensors so easily and with such little fuss.

  “It’s called a suppressor” he explained. “It masks sensor data with its proximity. In your case, it took your bracelet out of the equation, rendering all the information embedded in it invisible to the exit sensors.”

  “Then what … how did the sensors allow me to exit?” Saakshi stammered, confused by his words.

  “Space travelers now carry mountains of data embedded in them,” he answered easily. “All sensors are calibra
ted to detect certain tags from an individual passing through them. The suppressor allowed other data embedded in you to override the tags from your bracelet. In essence, it fooled the sensors into allowing you to pass, based solely on the information from your ID chip. The sensors treated you like everyone else – allowed you to exit after recording your ID data into their logs. No one will know that you left the station unless they explicitly search through the station exit logs.”

  “How could you be sure I had an ID chip?” she asked curiously, puzzled by this aspect. Wouldn’t the exit sensors generate an alarm if they couldn’t read any information from her, she wondered. She was aware that the Ketaari Imperial Forces had embedded a standard Budheya identity chip into her when they’d sold her prison contract, but he wouldn’t know that. Not for sure, anyway!

  “That bracelet on you cannot function without a basic ID chip” he responded with quiet confidence.

  He certainly knows his tech. Hmm, I guess a mercenary requires skills other than simply being a terror on the battlefield. Or perhaps he’s savvier than the average Hadari’Kor mercenary, since he commands an army of them.

  Either way, Saakshi was seriously impressed with both his expertise and resourcefulness. The whole idea was ingenious! Every space traveler had an identity chip embedded into his body, encapsulated with all the information required by planetary and space station automated sensors and other territorial border controls. The chips were even known to occasionally function as credit cards for those who chose to not carry a personal tablet device for such purposes. Saakshi’s wrist had been shackled with the ownership bracelet when her prison contract had been sold to Pik. Embedded in the bracelet were details of her contract and prison term, as well as a locator signal that could be activated to enable the Imperial Forces to track her down if she ever made a run for it. Once the suppressor made the tags embedded in the bracelet invisible to the station’s auto sensors, the only information the sensor would read from her was that encapsulated in her ID chip which did not specify her travel or movement restrictions. The suppressor had allowed her to successfully masquerade as a normal traveler on the space station.

  “How … where did you get the suppressor from?” she asked.

  And how did you acquire one so quickly?

  “I called in a favor from the friend of a friend” his eyes were still lit with amusement at her awed reaction.

  “Wow” she murmured softly.

  For a moment, she stared down at the bracelet on her wrist, now hidden under the sleeve of her uniform, before holding out her arm for him to detach the suppressor device still attached to her bracelet.

  Saakshi followed him onto his sparkling ship, where the Captain ushered her to an empty ante-room off the main hallway. He closed the door behind them for privacy and invited her to be seated. Seats thronged the chamber, though the Captain parked himself by the wall to lean against it, his stance casual with his arms folded across his chest.

  “What can I do for you?” he inquired blandly, his face impassive. The teasing male from the shuttle who had indulged her with an explanation while enjoying her undisguised admiration and wonderment was gone.

  Saakshi’s courage almost failed her as she stared at the big alien with the inscrutable face. She had come this far, she reminded herself, jumping to her feet to pace nervously in a tight circle before him, her arms clasped defensively around her waist.

  “I have a proposition for you” she directed at the ground while continuing her perambulations.

  “I’m listening” he responded unhurriedly, the dark eyes watchful of her jerky movements.

  “It’s a little awkward” Saakshi muttered.

  “Take your time” he invited quietly.

  Saakshi paced a few more circles before taking a deep breath. She faced him, not quite managing to meet his eyes, all the while conscious of his gaze tracking her.

  “I … uh … I’ve noticed how you look at me in Pik’s.”

  She chanced a fleeting glance through her lashes at him. The dark eyes held an arrested expression in them as he stared back at her, his big body held rigidly still. His gaze collided boldly with hers.

  “And …” he prompted.

  “And I was wondering if you’d be willing to protect me if I ... umm … agreed to become your lover” she managed to stammer out, a far cry from the polished speech she’d spent most of her morning practicing.

  “What?” the big male barked, coming off the wall aggressively to lunge at her.

  “You what?” he roared again, the bellow followed by a stream of fluent curses she presumed were in his own language. Her translator gave up on them after a few weak attempts.

  Saakshi uttered a little squeak of fright to step back, away from the furiously swearing enormous male bearing down on her. Her obvious alarm seemed to stop him in his tracks. But he seared her with his furious gaze, his expression thunderous.

  “Did you just offer me what I think you did?” he bit out at her.

  But Saakshi had finally had enough. Mentally, emotionally and psychologically, she had shored herself up for this meeting. It’d taken every bit of her hard-won grit to walk onto the Captain’s ship and proffer her proposition to him. Exhausted and flat out depleted of any reserves of courage, Saakshi could only stare back at him in mute wariness.

  “I get to f--k you if I use my brute HadKor strength to keep the other males away from you. Is that the offer?” he snarled at her, black eyes glittering fiercely in the strong face.

  Saakshi winced inwardly at his crudeness but nodded slowly, her gesture hesitant.

  “How long?” he demanded.

  She stared back at him, puzzled by the cryptic query.

  “How long do I get to enjoy you as my personal property?” he repeated, gesturing at her body.

  Saakshi flinched at his words, staying silent until she could trust her voice again.

  “Pik holds my contract for one year and I’ve completed a little over two months of it.”

  At her words, the male curled his fingers into tight fists by his side, seemingly attempting to restrain himself. Saakshi kept a wary eye on those fists.

  “I’m not the kind of male who takes advantage of a slave allowed no free will – sexual or otherwise” he said through gritted teeth.

  “I’m not a slave” Saakshi blurted out in astonishment.

  He pointed one tightly closed fist at the sleeve that hid her ownership bracelet.

  “Pik bought my prison contract” she explained.

  “Prison!” he exclaimed in astonishment, momentarily shaken out of his fury by her revelation. “You were in prison! Which one?” he demanded peremptorily.

  “A Ketaari prison on Budheyasta” she replied quietly.

  “Ketaari” he repeated thoughtfully. “I know for a fact that even within the Empire, the Ketaari cannot put away Budheya without any cause. Why were you in prison?”

  “For suspicion of helping the rebels.”

  “Were you?”

  “Yes, but they couldn’t prove it. So they gave me a short sentence and sold off my prison contract.”

  The Captain directed a thoughtful glance at her, following it up with a short nod. Saakshi understood that to mean that no further explanation of her circumstances was necessary. This corner of space was well acquainted with the complicated history of the Budheya and the Ketaari. Two centuries ago, Budheyasta had been the most advanced world in this quadrant, its people respected across the galaxy as a benevolent, progressive and generous race. A peace-loving people who could afford to eschew war due to their formidable technology and capabilities. They were also a deeply religious and spiritual people, ready to proffer help to any neighbors in need of assistance. The Ketaari had been a barely space-faring species with aggressive war-like tendencies and aspirations to galaxy domination. They had approached the Budheya for assistance to eradicate a disease plaguing their world. A century and half later, the circumstances of both peoples had undergone a radical transfor
mation. The Ketaari had stolen Budheya technology, forced the best Budheya minds to work for the benefit of the Ketaari under the threat of annihilating their species and declared, to a bewildered Budheya populace, that they were now second-class citizens in the new Budh-Ketaari Empire.

  In the last fifty years, the Empire had been expanding rapidly by greedily swallowing up resource-rich planets and subjugating races. At first, they had met with sporadic and uncoordinated resistance. The Ketaari, with their access to advanced Budheya technology and a vast military force, had easily overcome this early opposition. Eventually, in the last twenty years, a new partnership of planets and civilizations had come into being as a bulwark against Ketaari ambition. The sole purpose of this partnership was to prevent their territories from falling to the Ketaari Imperial Forces by pooling together their resources, both military and civilian, and coordinating the fight back against the Empire. They called themselves the Kampuchan Alliance, named after the planet on which the original four worlds had signed the first Alliance charter. Today, about forty different worlds and civilizations counted themselves members of the Alliance.

  Quadrant Five had become so dangerous that no world could survive without being part of, or affiliated in some form, with one of the two big warring factions – Alliance or Empire. A few species like the nomadic Keeyori operated Trade Spheres in neutral territory where all were welcome to trade; others like the legendary Ur’quay isolated themselves on their far-off home world, and stayed away from the fight for resources and domination of space. These races were few and far between. The Hadari’Kor was another nomadic race that refused to ally with either entity, and fought strictly as mercenaries for hire. Their reputation as well-honed, formidable and ruthless warriors made others wary of tangling with them, allowing them the luxury of a way of life where they retained their independence and owed allegiance to none.

  “You’re afraid of that Ketaari murtobak hassling you in Pik’s” Zoran sighed finally, his anger spent. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of him.”