“You will find your love hidden within the mystery of the five elements. If you do not recognize it, you will lose it and be forever alone.”
He found himself wondering not for the first time which element Violette might be.
Sand-covered base? Was she earth?
Fire? Was he fire? Were her eyes fire?
Metal? The military base was metal.
Water? He had no idea. Humans were a water-based species, but that hardly seemed like a mystical sign.
Wood? He glanced down at his lap and shifted his hips uncomfortably. Rick had a crude term for, well…
Dev grimaced. Why was he doing this to himself? He didn’t need a spirit to tell him he’d be forever alone. He could predict that for himself every time he looked in the mirror. Demon. Devil. Damned. He’d been called it all. No sane human woman would want that by her side unless it were to be her bodyguard.
Captain Violette.
He was foolish to even allow himself to think of her. After they cleared Rifflen’s skies and were on their way into deep space, Evan had informed them that Josselyn stabbed the general, and then Evan shot the man in an effort to cover up the crime. It didn’t work. Violette suspected the truth.
“Rick, I would have liked to see you get blasted by a ghost lady.” Viktor laughed, pulling Dev from his thoughts. “I can’t believe you tried to lure a dead woman into your bed.”
“Now that would have been funny,” Lucien agreed.
“Easy for you two to laugh about. This rocketboy didn’t curse you,” Lochlann drawled.
“As the acting security officer on this ship, I give you permission to beat Rick’s ass again,” Jackson said, directing his gaze at Lochlann.
“Well, if you do that, I won’t tell you where the ship is heading,” Rick feigned nonchalance. “Captain just gave me our new coordinates.”
“Back to the frozen tundra of Florencia’s Fifth Moon?” Lucien guessed. “To collect our treasure?”
“To check if there are any more sexy women waiting to be thawed from prison like Josselyn?” Viktor inquired. Before they arrived on the Fifth Moon to rescue her, Josselyn had been left in an abandoned prison, frozen in stone for over a hundred years on a forgotten corner of deep space.
Maybe Josselyn was earth. She’d been held in a stone-like state. Yet the planet was covered in ice, so she could be water.
The vagueness of the curse was going to drive Dev into madness.
“Wrong. Received new coordinates. Typed them in about an hour ago.” Rick grinned. “With orders to fly erratically to avoid a certain she-captain’s pursuit before we get where we’re going.”
At that Dev involuntarily stiffened. “Pursuit?”
“Easy, Barbecue Boy, stand down, no one’s trying to burn you alive just yet,” Rick admonished. “We’re not flying into battle. It’s only that Violette girl.”
“Evan told me she’s sworn revenge on Josselyn for killing the general,” Lucien said.
“Vengeful Violette,” Rick stated, grinning at the nickname he’d just made up for her. “Vengeful Violette is a vivacious villain, very vindictive—”
“Some one shoot Ricochet Rick over there,” Lochlann interrupted. The men laughed.
“Seriously, though, have you stopped to think about this?” Rick turned contemplative as if he was focusing. “Violette is Josselyn’s half-sister. They share a mother, Lady Craven. Josselyn was born over a hundred years ago on a Florencian moon and then imprisoned in stone after everyone, excluding her mother, was massacred with the help of the general. Violette was born later to the general and Lady Craven, who did not know the kind of bastard her second husband truly was. When Josselyn was freed from prison, her preserved body looks roughly the same age as her sister.” Rick paused expectantly.
Such events made it highly unlikely Dev would ever see Violette on friendly terms. He had a loyalty to his family, and Violette had sworn to avenge her father. That didn’t stop the desire from boiling his blood. Moreover, he was sure the challenge made him want her more.
When no one seemed to get his point, Rick continued, “Guys, don’t you see what this means? Evan’s woman is like over a hundred years old. He’s doing a—”
“Ach,” Lochlann waved his hand in dismissal as Rick began to chuckle.
“You’re one to talk,” Lucien added. “You tired to proposition an elderly spirit woman.”
“That Violette isn’t bad looking, but a little hard for my tastes,” Rick stated. “She’s the kind that would take a lot of work. Only liquor should be hard. I prefer my women soft.”
“Don’t you mean easy?” Lochlann drawled.
“I think he meant on discount,” Jackson teased.
“Who are you kidding, Rick?” Lucien chuckled. “You’ll take any female that’ll have you.”
“Jealousy is not pretty on you three,” Rick retorted. Then laughing, he said, “Yeah, you’re right, though. Difficult to pass up a good pleasure droid that’s on discount.”
Dev didn’t speak. He wasn’t much of a talker anyway. In some ways, he envied Rick’s ability to converse with whoever happened to be within in earshot. Not that he would ever tell the irritating man as much. The last thing Rick’s ego needed was a boost.
Dev’s silence didn’t stem from a sense of superiority of those around him, nor did it come from disinterest or stupidity. It just wasn’t in his nature to participate. He watched, listened, protected, studied. Perhaps it was a trademark of his youth, from a time when it was better to be on guard and not draw attention to himself, never knowing when his father’s people were going to have a go at him—the half-beast weakling.
“You tell me where we’re going,” Lucien said, walking across the commons to reach behind a chair. He pulled out a bottle of whiskey, “and I’ll let you see the new pleasure droid commercials I caught on the airwaves last night. They were the encoded ones, from the Zenni District.”
Rick instantly pushed up from his chair and answered, “Quazer. Glamour District. That general guy that Josselyn killed left her a security box there and we’re going to check it out with her. Captain Violette is following us. We’re hoping to shake her.” He reached for the bottle of whiskey and hooked Lucien’s arm. “Did they really come from the Zenni District? They show every function on those advertisements.”
“Each one lasts twenty-six minutes—per unit!” Lucien answered. The two men disappeared through the door, still talking about the rogue airwaves.
“Well,” Lochlann said, faking indifference. “Couldn’t hurt to have a peek at the new models.” As Lochlann took a step for the door, Viktor shot to his feet. Both men raced after Lucien. Lochlann beat the smaller man by a few paces. Dev heard them running down the hall, pushing into each other as they tried to catch up.
When they were alone, Jackson said, “Ignore Rick. He doesn’t mean anything by what he says. We both know that fly boy is more damaged than any of us.”
Dev frowned. “I wasn’t thinking about Rick.”
“Oh,” Jackson answered, surprised. “I saw your eyes narrow. You appeared upset.” After countless hours training together, Jackson could read him pretty well.
“I am going to run space battle simulations in the VR.” Dev stood and moved to go. Captain Violette wouldn’t leave his thoughts. The obsession was strange. He’d only seen her that one time, standing in the distance, staring at him. He’d never heard her voice, never touched her, never smelled her, but those eyes of hers, tormented and raw with emotion, contrasting the rigid pride in her slender body. She was strength and beauty and…
What was he doing? Dev looked at his hands, to the subtle darker red markings on his flesh. They only showed at certain times and were so faint most people didn’t notice them. Violette was a human woman. She was starlight and moonshine. He looked like something from one of those Old Earth transmission waves Lucien captured and saved for them—a beast, an evil possessor, the thing of nightmares humans were always trying to kill. Violette represented
everything he could ever want and yet could never have. All she could ever be to a man like him was a name, an idea…a nemesis after his family.
“I’ll join you,” Jackson said. “I could go a few rounds with a Torg before bed.”
“No, not this time. I need to practice my solo flight. Why don’t you join the others?” Dev didn’t break stride as he left.
Chapter 6
Glamour District, Quazer
Vengeance. Even the word left Violette feeling dead inside. It wasn’t like she wanted to kill the woman. She had to. Honor was the only piece of her family she had left.
Violette knew Josselyn would appear in the Glamour District eventually. How could the woman resist seeing what inheritance the general had left her? It’s the whole reason Violette had given over the security disc to Evan. It wasn’t like she cared if the woman had a new start to a new life.
No. Violette wanted to be sure she could track Josselyn down. The woman killed her father. That is all Violette needed to know. The details of why didn’t matter.
The general had forced Violette to step aside and let Josselyn do whatever she wanted. He had even gone so far as to order Violette to help the woman onto the base. Now, with both parents dead and a new general on Rifflen, she had nothing beyond her ship, her crew, her name, and family honor.
Unfortunately for her, her ship was a yellow chunk of space scrap called Racing Banana. The sharp angles of its front nose turned upward at the end. Dark red stripes added an elongated effect to the shape as they stood out from the almost too bright color of the ship’s yellow body. Ok, calling it “junk” was a little harsh. It wasn’t a pile of rust, nor was it a luxury ship. It shook a little too hard when leaving a planet’s atmosphere and it used way too much fuel. She would never say as much to her pilot, Jo. He believed his “lady” was the fastest piece of spacecraft beauty ever invented. Violette thought better than to get into the middle of that strange alien-machine relationship.
Sure, there was her inheritance—space credits to keep her living comfortably if she was smart, a list of contacts if she ever needed anything, and her father’s legacy. But space credits and a list of names wasn’t the same as family.
As for her crew, they were nonconformists, all of them, and the product of her alientarian father’s influence. Jo was Slit’therne, part of a snake-like race of aliens found in remote, swampy locations. He had a human-shaped upper body, except that green-yellow scales replaced flesh and webbed hands. He slithered when he moved, propelling himself along with a tail appendage replacing what would have been legs.
Their mechanic, Gil, was Angelion, a race reminiscent of Old Earth culture’s angels, minus the benevolence. The blue-white of his feathered wings rested along his backside, nearly touching the floor. Besides a ridge on his chest, his front side looked to be human. Violette didn’t know much about Old Earth’s angel race, but she knew Gil was far from what she would consider holy.
Isaac, their Corge crewman, came in handy for just about anything they needed him to do. He lacked the hesitance—and the conscience—that plagued most people. A large black horn protruded from the center of his blue forehead. It had a crack along the tip. Corge men emitted a sweet smell that took some getting used to. Violette often supposed the reason for his aloofness was because he couldn’t feel pain, or pleasure, at least in the physical sense.
The last crewman was a Thinean they called Ghost. He was a thin, pale man who rarely left the ship, and seldom showed himself to those on board. It was easy to forget he was there. For all she knew he slept in some crack in her hull.
“Sacre,” Violette swore as she stared at the viewing screen. “What is taking them so long to land?”
“Patience, Captain,” Isaac answered, his tone reasonable. “No reason to rush your revenge.”
Isaac had suggested they let Josselyn go so they could spend the next five years chasing her around the galaxy for fun. Though Violette liked a good pursuit as much as any other space adventurer, she wasn’t a cruel person by nature. She didn’t want to draw out her vengeance. She wanted it over with.
“Do you think we’ll have a problem with her crew?” Gil asked, coming inside the cockpit. “The man you described sounds Bevlon, at least in part. They’re not to be trusted. The fact that they carry one on board is not a good sign.”
Violette stiffened. Bevlons were the ancient enemies of the Angelion. She didn’t judge so harshly, but then her ancestors hadn’t spent a near eternity locked in battle with the Bevlon race. Yet, and she would never admit it to Gil, she couldn’t stop thinking about the man. At first glance, he’d appeared all red, but when she stared at him, she saw he had thin darker lines scrolling his flesh. His black eyes had caused a small chill inside her soul—and not at all in a bad way. The more she thought about him, the more she found herself oddly attracted to him. The fact that he was Bevlon, or part Bevlon, didn’t bother her. Inter-alien relationships weren’t frowned upon in deep space ports—at least not by anyone she cared to listen to.
There was an expression in the man’s eyes that Violette knew well. She felt the hollow echo of it in her soul. It was loneliness and sadness and longing, but it was also the hope that those things would not last forever, and the fear that they would. The man haunted her. Possibly, it was the idea of him that haunted her.
Or, maybe, it was because she’d been without a lover for a very long time and the Bevlon was the first man she’d felt any kind of attraction for.
Sacre.
What was she thinking? He was a member of the crew who saved Josselyn. It was just like her to choose someone to fantasize over that she could never have.
“Sacre,” she cursed again. Then realizing her men were staring at her, she squared her shoulders. “Make port with the secure codes so no one will know we’re here. They have to suspect we might show, and I don’t want them getting a heads up. I know the securities building she’s going to. We’ll catch up with them there. And remember. No one touches Josselyn. She’s mine.”
The crewmen nodded. Gil made a small sound of approval. Isaac grinned.
“Never trust anyone who travels with a Bevlon,” Gil warned. “Watch your back. They’re treacherous beasts.”
Violette didn’t answer.
Jo activated a com-link with the Docking Master and began the lengthy process of setting up a secure military code landing. Having Federation ties did have its perks.
“Take your revenge, but if we run into trouble, the Bevlon is mine.” Gil smiled. His wings lifted, and he hovered over the floor. Then, leaning back, he dove into the air, gliding through the smaller cockpit door. For such large wings, he really was an agile flyer.
“This is not your fault,” Isaac stated when Gil was gone.
Violette didn’t keep secrets from Isaac. They’d known each other for too long. “I brought her to the base. I led her right to my father.”
“You were under orders. If you didn’t fetch her, the general would have sent someone else.” Isaac grabbed her wrist and lifted her arm. He ran his finger over the long scar through the clothing. “You did what you had to.”
“I should have known she’d kill him.” Violette looked at her arm before tugging it away. “My oath is finished. I never promised not to take revenge. I only promised not to interfere with what she planned.” She still hated her father for forcing the blood oath on her. “I don’t care what my father said. Whatever wrong my father thought to have dealt her, it was nothing to justify the killing of a great man.”
“There are perhaps things we don’t know,” Isaac reasoned.
“Since when do you try to be rational?” Violette quipped in irritation. The last thing she wanted was doubt, in herself or in her crew. “If you don’t wish to come with me, you can stay behind. I—”
“Oh, I’ll come, and I’ll fight whoever you put in front of me just for the sport of it,” Isaac interrupted. “I have no fear of battles. What I do fear is what that battle will do to you if you do not firs
t learn the story. When it is over, you will begin to wonder. That wonder will turn to doubt. Doubt to self-doubt to insecurity and second-guessing. You will be useless as a captain, and I have no desire to acquire work on a new ship. The story won’t change the fact you need to deal with the woman, but it will keep your mind forward. I find humans need that sort of reasoning.”
“Your concern is overwhelming,” she drawled.
Isaac made an indifferent gesture. “How humanoids have evolved to be the most populated races, I will never understand.”
“It’s called breeding,” Violette answered. “Remind me and I’ll explain the concept sometime.”
“You’re not my type.” Isaac gave a small glance toward the door. It was no secret to her that Isaac had a thing for winged men. Gil did not return the sentiment.
“Glad to hear it. This day is already starting on a high note.” Violette turned her attention to Jo as he hung up the com-link to the docks.
“We’re all set. Should be a smooth set down. Quazer has luxury atmospheric generators.”
“As soon as we land, inquire about The Conqueror. Find out where she’s docked.” Violette turned to leave. “Arm up. With those Federation codes, no one will check us. We’re going in with weapons.”
“I do enjoy a good hunt,” Isaac said.
* * *
The white streets shimmered in the bright sunlight as a tropical breeze filtered through the Glamour District. Smooth stone arches with crystal insets lined the sidewalks, creating colorful streaks of light on the ground. As a planet entirely dedicated to luxury and the wealthy, Quazer had docking fees, security fees and a long list of other charges designed to ensure only those who could afford to be there actually landed. Violette paid for none of those with her Federation codes. The district was filled with nobles, the rich and famous from around the galaxy. Their demeanor and actions bespoke of money and power, and enough snobbery that they tended to ignore her.
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