by Jess Granger
Soren caught her face in his hand and brushed a tender kiss over her lips. The intimate caress shocked her and turned her mind to the incredible things his body had done to hers the night before.
“Because,” he murmured, “when they bloom, their beauty is beyond belief.”
Cyani wrapped her arms around his neck as he lifted her onto his lap. She kissed him deeply, forcefully.
“We should return to the hut,” she suggested.
“Why?” He kissed a hot trail down her neck to her exposed collarbone.
“Anyone can see us,” she protested, leaning back from him.
He chuckled as his eyes began to glow violet again. “In case you didn’t notice, the Makkolen aren’t too shy about such things.”
“Soren!” She smacked him playfully on the shoulder. “I don’t care if they have absolutely no boundaries, I still do.”
Soren buried his face in her cleavage and kissed her there. She moaned before she could stop herself. “We’ll work on that,” he suggested.
Suddenly Vicca leapt up on them. She barked urgently.
Cyani’s heart began to pound as she got to the ground and picked up her fox.
“Easy girl,” she soothed. “Easy, what is it?”
Vicca pushed against her chest as she reached her muzzle toward the sky.
A dark shadow loomed over a cloud bank.
Cyani’s gut dropped as she nearly stumbled and fell. Soren stood and shielded his eyes against the sun as he watched the shadow creep closer.
A distant rumble thundered over the savannah. The animals of the village scrambled about as the Makkolen emerged from their huts to see what was going on.
The sky suddenly went dark as the enormous ship blotted out the new rising sun.
“No,” Cyani whispered to herself. No, no, no, no, no.
Soren stepped in close to her side and took her hand, even as Cyani buried her face in Vicca’s fur.
The familiar roar of transport engines drowned the village in sound as the ship made its landing just outside the gates.
15
“WHERE IS HE?” CYANI BACKED THE LIEUTENANT INTO THE CORNER. SHE WAS tempted to reach out and grab a fist of his shadowsuit and shake him. “Tell me where they took him right now. That’s an order.”
Everything that had happened from the moment the transport landed on Makko had been a rush. The Union heard the beacon and found them, but the unfamiliar soldiers had been shuffling them through protocol ever since. Cyani had had enough.
She’d tried to contact her men, but her team was already deployed on another assignment on Felli. She didn’t know anyone on this base, and had no one she could trust but Soren. Now she didn’t know where he was.
They’d each gone into the sterilizers alone. She’d assured Soren she’d meet him on the other side. She patiently changed clothes while the pure white room cleansed her, believing Soren was in the sterilizer next to her. But when she came out of the sterilizers, he was already gone, ferreted off somewhere. Not for long.
She’d get him back. The sight on her eyepiece focused an ominous red dot right between the poor soldier’s eyes.
“They took the Byralen to Med for observation,” he stammered. “My orders are to escort you to C.R. One Sixty-seven for a briefing with Commander Qin.”
“Show me where Med is first,” she demanded.
“I’m sorry, Captain, but I can’t. My orders are clear. The commander needs to see you right away.”
Cyani exhaled and ran a hand over her hair, smoothed-back and tied in a tight, uniform knot at her nape. Maybe it was best to get the commander off her back first, then she could be with Soren.
“Vicca,” she snapped. Her fox turned in a quick circle and sat, awaiting her orders. “Find and guard Soren, com open.”
Vicca barked then ran off through the corridor, her claws clicking on the polished black floors. Cyani could hear the clicking continue as Vicca rounded a corner. Her ear set had linked to the microphone in Vicca’s collar successfully. At least she’d be able to hear Soren, and communicate with him if she had to.
She turned on her heel and stormed down the corridor. The lieutenant stumbled to catch up with her then led the way to the conference chamber where she could meet with the commander. She didn’t want to deal with bureaucratic myhrat dung, but such was the life of an officer. Get this over with, and get out.
She entered the bleak meeting room, nothing more than a gray square box with a steel table and neat rows of black chairs on the polished floor. Far-flung moon bases didn’t receive a budget for anything less austere. Cyani stood with her hands clasped behind her back at attention, waiting for acknowledgment from the base commander.
He seemed deep in conversation with another man by the large shield-screen overlooking the docking bays. The commander’s face pinched in displeasure as the other man mumbled something to him.
Who is he?
He looked familiar to her, but she had met few people during her assignments for the Union, and he wore no rank or planetary insignia on his shadowsuit. That meant he was a hired hand, a liaison. Cyani knew better than to trust him. Liaisons usually had their own agendas, and more often than not, they involved brokering money, power, information, or all three at once.
The liaison looked up at her with very dark eyes. Was he part Hannolen? He had cropped pitch-black hair and an athletic frame she expected to see on a command trooper, not a bureaucrat. He gave her a quick perusal, a curious observation of her, nothing more.
“Ah, Captain,” the Fellilen commander greeted. The tattoos masking his face pulled upward into a fearsome grimace as he smiled. “So good of you to join us. This is Cyrus Smith, one of the Union’s finest cultural liaisons and a very talented linguist.”
She had seen him before; she was certain of it. She nodded her head and waited for the commander to continue. If he was a mere linguist, she was a squira monger. There was something calculating and precise about his blank expression, almost sinister.
“He is going to be in charge of gathering information for us about the Byralen you brought into custody,” the commander mentioned.
“I didn’t bring him into custody, I freed him from enslavement. According to the Union Code of Rights and Ethics, he is to be returned to his native planet immediately. I would like to volunteer myself for that mission.”
The liaison’s eyebrows rose very slightly.
“I am sorry, Captain, but the raid on Hanno was your final mission. The Grand Sister of Azra has been contacted about your survival. She insists you return to your home planet immediately for decommissioning, and she can be a very persistent woman.” The commander lifted a glass of an amber liquid to his lips without seeming concerned in the least, but Cyani felt as if her heart had been ripped out and tossed on the shining black floor.
“Before you go, I am putting you under the command of Mr. Smith. You are to do as he requests regarding the Byralen male so he may complete his task of gathering information. The Union is very interested in discovering the location of Byra. I expect you to aid in that endeavor.”
“Are those your official orders, sir?” Smith asked with a clear Earthlen accent.
“Yes. Com, log orders.” The commander set his glass down and walked toward the door. “Thank you for your service, Captain.”
He walked out of the room, leaving her with the liaison. As soon as the door hissed shut, Smith pulled a small disc from his belt and tossed it into the air. It hovered as an aura of pink and green shifting light radiated out from its edge, turning it into a glowing orb of color. A round black sphere appeared from the top of the disc as the machine dipped down and seemed to be looking around the room with its small black eye.
Smith pointed to his eyes, then his ears, and swept his hand out over the room. The disc dipped in a strange little nod then zipped around the room, flashing a bright green light.
Shock whipped through Cyani’s mind. Outrageously expensive and borderline illegal A.I., not st
andard tech for a linguist.
Who is he?
The disc flashed, leaving a faint glowing green light hidden along the seam of the shield-screen, then it flew back to Smith and beeped.
“Are you sure that’s the only one?” he asked it.
“Chirp,” it answered.
“And it’s been disabled?”
“Chirp.” It nodded again.
“Look, Bug, I love you, but if we have a repeat of the incident on Ubora, I’m going to use you as a coaster from now on.” The liaison crossed his arms and glared at the disc.
“Werp. Buzzzzz.”
“Don’t get smart with me. You’re supposed to be artificially intelligent, not artificially petulant. Now go back to sleep until we’re safe on the ship.”
The disc made an irritated grinding noise as it settled back into his hand and turned off. He stashed it back in his belt.
“We don’t have much time; Bug can only block the signal on listening devices for a few minutes,” Smith said, as if he hadn’t carried on a conversation with a machine.
“Where’s the Byralen?” he asked.
A chill raced up Cyani’s spine. She couldn’t trust the man anywhere near Soren.
“Cyani,” he softened his low voice, and for a moment his accent melted away. “Help me help him.”
Cyani’s heart sped up and stuttered in her chest. He had spoken Azralen, and not schooled Azralen, ground-shadow Azralen.
“Med.” It was all she could say in her shock.
“We have to go,” he ordered. “Now.”
Just then she heard the clicking from Vicca’s claws stop. It had been a constant static in her ear. Cyani turned her attention to the sounds coming through her ear set. Vicca barked once, and a door hissed open.
“I’m not going in there,” a disembodied voice proclaimed. “Nrea hasn’t woken up yet.”
“What did he do?” another asked.
“I don’t know.”
“We should prepare the sedatives.”
“If you try to gas him, we’re all going to be on the floor.”
Vicca barked again.
Cyani moved to the door and broke into a run. Smith followed her. She continued to listen to the disaster unfolding in Med.
“What is that scout doing in here?”
Something crashed.
“Keep her away from the door, she’s going to let him out,” the second voice shouted.
“This way,” Smith pointed, turning down another corridor. They rushed down it at full speed.
Cyani heard clanging, a victorious bark, and the hiss of a door, and suddenly everything went silent.
Something thumped against the floor. It sounded like a body. Was it Soren? What had they done to him?
Her heart raced with stark terror.
By everything that is powerful and holy in the universe, please let him be okay.
Smith grabbed her arm and pulled her down another corridor.
Finally they turned the corner to Med. The large white doors hissed open.
Cyani stopped in her tracks.
The bodies of four medical officers lay on the floor, passed out. Soren bent over one of them, inspecting the officer’s head while Vicca perched on the man’s thigh.
Soren looked up.
The yellow red in his eyes blazed blue violet as he rushed to her. He caught her face in his hands before he kissed her with desperate hunger. She wrapped her arms around him, feeling his clean ponytail slide beneath the fabric of her gloves. She ripped them off and wound her fingers in his hair, as he continued to take her breath as if he hadn’t been able to breathe without it.
Finally he broke the kiss and buried his face in the top of her hair. He inhaled deeply as he held her. The skin of his neck felt hot on her palm.
“Soren, are you running a fever?” She felt his forehead.
“I’m going to be okay.” He took her hand, kissed it, then pulled her toward him again.
Cyani heard a soft snort, and realized that Smith was standing in the doorway. She jumped back as if Soren had turned into high-voltage current while a hot flush rushed through her face.
The liaison seemed highly amused. He had the Rebel’s own smile plastered all over his face.
“What’s your brother doing here?” Soren asked.
Cyani felt like someone had just knocked her over the head with a short staff. She turned to Smith in disbelief. He looked as shocked as she felt, shocked—and guilty.
“What?” she stammered.
“Your scents—they share the same family base scent. That only happens with siblings.”
Cyani grabbed the liaison’s arm and yanked his sleeve. A red and black snake coiled around his blue-tinged wrist.
“Cyn,” she gasped.
He put a finger to his lips. “We don’t know who’s listening,” he whispered. He pulled out Bug and let him fly. The A.I. returned quickly without marking anything in the room green. Cyn sighed, stashed his pet, then his eyes hardened.
Cyn had green eyes, not black? What was going on?
“Byralen, we don’t have much time,” Cyn said. “We have to get you out of here and on my ship before anyone notices this mess. There should be a spare Med coat in that closet. Throw it on. Hopefully no one will question your hair. Cyani, stand guard, and send your scout out to patrol the hall.”
Cyani moved to a defensive posture at the door.
My brother? He was her brother.
Soren stepped up, dressed like one of the Med unit.
“Let’s go.” Cyn motioned to the door and led the way.
They hurried through the corridors toward the docking bay without saying another word. Cyani stepped out into the docking bay as one of the Union ships sank through the force-shield that floated like a thick bubble over the docking platforms.
The roar of its engines filled the docks as Cyani carefully followed the pulsing orange trail winding through the docking stations.
Vicca had jumped off the gravity generators and was taking enormous four-meter leaps through the air and landing again with her pink tongue dangling out of her mouth.
“Vicca,” she scolded as Cyn led them to a modest Earthlen I.S. Cruiser with a black snake painted near the cockpit.
She ducked under the belly of the ship and climbed up the rung ladder into the cargo hold.
Cyn helped pull her up then took Vicca as Soren handed her through the hatch.
Soren climbed through and paused before swinging the hatch door shut.
“Welcome to the Black Serpent,” Cyn announced. “We can speak openly here. The ship is free of transmitters, Roglen tele-amplifiers, and hull rats, for the most part.”
Just at that moment, Vicca jumped behind a crate and pulled out a spindly legged rodent with wiry hair and began chomping on its head.
Cyn scowled then shook his head. “Clever scout you have there.” He let Bug loose. The disc tipped down toward Vicca. She put a paw on her prey and growled while her tail swished back and forth.
“I thought I told you to get rid of the rats,” Cyn scolded.
The disc turned pink for a moment and tipped in a way that seemed to shrug. Cyn shook his head then looked back at them. “Come into the bunk hull; I’ll explain everything.”
Cyani felt dizzy from shock and the millions of unanswered questions floating around in her head. Cyn suddenly bent over, then looked straight up, blinking rapidly.
“Son of a bitch,” he grumbled. He stopped at a basin near the door to the bunk hull. He bent over, and it looked like he swiped something from his eye.
He looked over at her. One eye was pitch black, and the other bright green.
“Contacts, ancient Earthlen technology,” he explained as he dropped some liquid from a vial onto a small dark object on his finger. Cyani watched in horror as he touched it directly to his eye. He blinked a couple of times then stretched his neck as if he hadn’t stuck a foreign object directly on his cornea. “The Earthlen go to great lengths to manipulat
e their appearances. Sometimes it comes in handy. I wasn’t willing to have permanent color injected. That’s just creepy, and much less versatile.”
He was definitely her brother. The world could be crashing down around them, and he’d talk about something completely trivial. Cyani felt her patience running out as she slipped into the bunk hull. Four beds covered with exotic woven blankets jutted out on platforms, and a small galley filled one corner. Trinkets from far-flung reaches of the galaxy floated in antigravity cases strapped at the ends of each bunk. Was her brother a shadow trader?
Bug floated into the room and rested on a quilted pillow on the edge of an antigravity case.
“Cyn, if I don’t get some answers right now—” Cyani didn’t have time to finish her sentence because Cyn wrapped her in a huge hug. He squeezed her tight, so tight she could barely breathe. She wrapped her arms around him and took a moment to just feel safe. He was her brother. He was alive. She held on to him tighter as she struggled with a surge of overwhelming emotion.
“God, I missed you. I thought I lost you,” he said. “I thought you died on that damn asteroid. I’ve been watching every assignment you’ve had for the last four years, but you’ve been too deep in the war zone for me to contact. When I intercepted word that you were alive, I pulled some strings and nearly busted my ass to get here in time.”
Suddenly all the questions didn’t matter. He was safe, alive, and out of the shadows. It was all she had ever wanted. She missed him so badly. She felt a hot stinging in her eyes and pressed them into her brother’s shoulder before she let any tears fall.
She had to get control of herself. She took a deep breath and let her brother go. Soren leaned up against the archway leading to the cockpit and crossed his arms. He eyed Bug with a suspicious scowl. Her head was still swimming. She had to focus.
“Do you really work for the Union? Why are you pretending to be from Earth? What happened to Mom and Dad? Damn it, Cyn, you have to tell me everything, and you’d better not start talking about the weather on Cirat’s fourth moon.” She sat down on one of the bunks while Cyn picked up a dented cup and filled it with something from a tall, narrow flask. He lifted the flask toward Soren, but Soren waved it off.
