by Cathryn Cade
“All right, let’s get this show on the road,” Craig said.
Ogg’s leathery face creased with glee. He got a kick out of archaic Earth expressions.
“All engines are go, Cap’n,” he replied in his gravelly voice.
Navos waited patiently for the two of them to finish their ritual jest, and then spoke, his voice as cool as his austere face.
“Captain, I have finished my examination of the passenger roster. We have three hundred and thirty passengers on board, twenty-five of whom are Egglantians on the last leg of their voyage to settle on Chanticleer. As they are in incubation units, it was unnecessary to examine them.”
Craig nodded. “Any passengers we need to observe closely?”
Occasionally a paying passenger turned out not to be suited for space travel. If so, he or she was taken to the medical facilities and either persuaded to ingest soothing drugs or have a session with Navos. For not only could the Indigon probe minds, he could, at close range, control aberrant thought patterns in most sentient beings. Craig knew that Navos had once confronted a rogue Mauritanian, averting slaughter in a crowded spaceport.
These skills made Navos an invaluable member of the command team. The Orion was not a ground transport from which beings who were a danger to themselves or others could be quickly removed. In space, miscalculations were quickly rewarded with deadly disaster. No one could survive outside the safety of the ship. Those who did survive kept that in mind at all times.
“All thought patterns were normal at the time of my initial scan.” But there was a crease between the Indigon’s dark brows, and Craig raised his own in silent inquiry. The rest of the crew leaders waited respectfully.
“I am loath to mention this,” said Navos. “Because I cannot pinpoint it, but there is someone on board who has occasional… malicious thought patterns. They are only occasional, and indeed, within the high normal range. That is all I can tell you.”
“You got a direction on these vibes?” Ogg growled. “Crew or passengers?”
“Crew, I believe,” Navos said coldly. “And it may be sexual rivalry or even work related—indeed, it likely is.”
Craig knew his long-time friend’s coldness was caused by chagrin at having to give such a nebulous reading. If the Indigon had a failing, it was pride. He was among the best in his field, and he knew it.
“You’ll keep us apprised. Any other situations?”
“We got a watch on the heat shields,” Ogg said. “No problems yet, but the Cassiopeia reported stress—might be that new alloy.”
Craig nodded without comment, but a frown creased his brow. Their sister ship had just taken off on her maiden voyage through the Sirius system. At space cruising speeds, a malfunctioning heat shield could cause a flash-fire nothing could extinguish.
The rest of the crew leaders had nothing unusual to report. Which did not mean they would not be on their guard. Regular patrols by the InterGalactic Space Force kept pirates away from the regular shipping lanes, but it was impossible to protect a big ship from every conceivable danger—especially when an individual was willing to become a receptacle for a bomb.
On the Orion’s maiden voyage, a Pangaean with a bio-bomb had sabotaged the ship’s navigation hard drive. This brush with disaster had shaken captain and crew out of any complacency about the inviolability of the Orion’s security.
Had it not been for a Tyger navigator on board, in the midst of a shapeshift into a part-man, part-hunting cat, and a female from his planet willing to bond with him, they would all be dead, the Orion sliced to ribbons on the asteroids of the Cattarus system.
Craig turned to Panthar. “How are Commander Jag and his bride? I was sorry to miss the wedding.” The refitting of the auto-nav had taken weeks.
Panthar grinned. “It was quite a celebration. Jag’s parents went all out. The boss and his wife are honeymooning in the southern islands on Bryght.”
“Give them both our congratulations when you speak to them.”
“I will, sir. He’ll be on his com-link to you soon. He’s eager to know if you’ve learned anything further about the terrorists.”
“We would have learned much more if Commander Jag had not ripped out the throat of the saboteur when he caught him,” Navos put in icily.
Panthar showed his teeth. “Hard for a Tyger male to reason when he’s in full mating shift. Especially when the little vegan threatened Jag’s mate.”
“May I remind you, Commander, that many of us on board are vegans.” Mra’s hair flittered about her pale green cheeks. “That does not make us suspect.”
“Sorry, Commander.” The big Tyger looked anything but.
Craig shoved his chair back, judging it time to adjourn the meeting before any more feelings were ruffled.
They were all disappointed that they had learned so little about the terrorist group behind the attack on the Orion. Oh, they had linked the style of the bomb to the radical eco-terrorist group PlanetFirst, but he, Navos, and Stark, the owner of LodeStar Corporation, all suspected that someone else had funded and expected to profit from the demise of the Orion.
The ship had been carrying precious chlorodine ore, true, but it was available through mining methods harmless to the Pangaean environment. If the goal of the attack was truly to stop the mining on Pangaea, as claimed, it would have made more sense to target one of the iridium mining freighters. Iridium extraction left scars even on the swift-growing landscape of Pangaea.
The crew of the Orion was on edge now, and on guard for a new attack. If someone wanted to put the Orion out of commission, they would have to come through her commander and crew to do so.
Craig rose. “Very well. I’ll see you all back here at star fall.”
Halix lingered behind the others, his round, lavender face brimming with excitement under his bowl of black hair.
“Mr. Halix.” Craig sighed inwardly. His operations chief had a hobby—he was an inventor. On the first voyage he had demonstrated a flying robotic device that could be programmed to fly about the corridors on errands. Halix and his crew used them to send parts to far ends of the ship.
“Captain.” Halix beamed. “I have done it. I have completed my ‘magnum opus’.”
“Mmm. It’s, ah, not another robotic messenger, is it? Commander Mra has not completely recovered from being hit in the face by one of them in the passageway.”
Halix looked guilty. “I feel great regret for her fright. Also for the small amount of her hair that was removed by the device’s propellers. But I assure you, Captain, I have reprogrammed each one individually to fly along the corridor ceilings. I have also requested that the next LodeStar ship be built with passageways in the superstructure.”
“A splendid idea,” Craig said. “So, what do you have to show me today?”
“Ah, yes.” Halix brightened again. He opened a small case and presented it to Craig with reverent care.
Craig peered into the open case lined with molded fabric. A small indentation in the center of one side bore what looked like a tiny fleck of metal. In the other side nestled a small holo-video cam.
“Ah…what does it do?”
Halix held up a finger. “I will demonstrate.” He carefully plucked something out of the tiny indentation and tapped it onto the back of his hand with one finger. Then he flicked on the holo-vid cam. Above the open case, a holo-vid of the room and the two of them sprang to life.
“It is a surveillance device,” Halix said. “So minute that it will not set off any sensors, and the subject need not even know it has been applied. It works by bouncing frequency waves off the subject’s surroundings and calibrating them into a three-dimensional image. Accurate to a range of up to three kilometers.”
His holographic image mirrored him, so he spoke in duet.
Craig smiled, amused by the cleverness of the device. “Well done, Mr. Halix. I wish you the best of luck marketing your device.”
“Thank you, sir. I think it will be most useful not only in m
onitoring children, but also criminals.”
Craig grinned at this juxtaposition. “I suppose you may be right. Let me know how you do with it.”
At least this device wouldn’t be a danger to crew.
Meanwhile, from a small sleek ship hovering just off the shipping lane, four Pangaeans watched as the Orion sailed toward them.
The leader Rra sat in the commander’s seat. His body was relaxed in his contoured chair, but his green hair coiled and twisted slowly about his throat in a manner that had the others watching him warily.
The lovely female Lly rose and slipped over to perch on the arm of his chair, her hand on his shoulder.
“You’ve planned this attack on the Orion beautifully, Rra,” she said. “The female is willing to do much for the credit you’ve promised her.”
“Yes,” added one of the two young men. “And should she fail, you have the other one on board—the one even she knows nothing about.”
Rra allowed himself a small smile. “Yes, a masterful detail, was it not? This time, we leave nothing to chance. If our saboteur fails us, or becomes troublesome, we’ve another waiting in the shadows.”
By neither word nor expression did Lly betray that it had been her idea to put the ringer on board the Orion. She knew better than to anger Rra.
“Indeed, my love. When the Orion is destroyed, nothing but a helpless hulk that everyone fears to board, we will have won a great victory for PanRra Enterprises.”
Chapter Four
Craig finally had time to spar again with the Serpentian guard a few mornings later. As he jogged down the wide hallway to the gymnasium, he heard voices chanting in unison, and the slap of feet and hands on the mats.
As always, adrenaline surged through him, his pulse beginning to pound with the swift drumbeat of their movements. He stopped just inside the big room to enjoy the sight of the guard at training warm-ups. These were the elite of the galaxy, and it showed.
Lithe males and females in their brief golden yellow unitards leapt and twisted, following the motions of the two leaders facing them from the low platform. Skin in shades of gold and bronze gleamed under the lights. They landed on their feet, then kicked and leapt again, landing on hands and flipping through the air to a new ready stance. It was a lovely, lethal dance.
So genetically close to humans that they could interbreed, Serpentians had migrated from Earth I nearly an eon ago and adapted to the hot, desert climate of their home planet by becoming more like the reptiles that thrived there. Their eyes and skin could withstand the searing sun, and they could move as swiftly as a striking snake.
They were so quick to mirror the movements of the leaders that Craig could discern almost no lag. And he knew the lovely women drilling alongside the men were equally capable of using their bodies as lethal weapons.
As they drilled, the leaders gave rhythmic cries, and the ranks responded. The sound beat in his blood like a war chant of the tribes that had roamed Earth I eons ago.
Suddenly the leaders stopped, and a split second behind them, the ranks of guards.
“Take a short break,” called Sirena from her low podium. “Rehydrate. Then we will spar.”
One of the women near Craig bent backward and flipped over her outstretched hands, landing lightly on her feet. Her golden skin glowed, her eyes sparkling with pleasure. It was the cadet—Tessa. She was clearly in her element, laughing as she danced around to face him.
Her green eyes widened as they met his. Color stained her high cheekbones, her smile gone.
“Pardon me, sir,” she murmured and slipped away into the midst of the throng.
He felt a tug of startled amusement at her quick retreat. She evidently saw him as something of a quark-ogre. He had been polite after their first encounter, considering she had flipped him onto his back like a landed fish. And she damned sure could not know she had starred in his private shower fantasy.
He shrugged off her reaction as he strode across the room to the long, low dais where his guard commanders stood.
Sirena smiled at him now, but he merely nodded politely. He treated the lovely, sensual Sirena with the same reserve as all the other females on his crew. And besides, he had noticed a certain proprietary glower in her huge co-captain’s eye. Slyde Stone was larger than the other guards and there was something in the haughty tilt of his chin that spoke of royalty. He might well be—civilizations on many planets had royal houses.
“Sirena, Slyde, your guard are in fine form. I’ll join you, if I may?”
They both nodded as if conferring an honor. Indeed, he viewed it as one. LodeStar paid handsomely to have a Serpentian guard on board the Orion. The smaller ships made do with other guards.
He did a few warm-up laps around the big room and then some stretches. As the Serpentians moved back out into the middle of the big room, pairing up to spar, he joined them.
He walked forward into the line and bowed to his first partner, a male with bronze skin and golden eyes, who bowed in return. They both assumed a defensive posture and began to circle each other.
It was the other man’s turn to attack first, and he did so with the flowing smoothness that never failed to astonish Craig, even after all his hand-to-hand combat training as a pilot in the Space Forces. As his opponent twirled into a blurring kick turn, Craig dropped to the mat to avoid him, and then threw up his own legs to avoid being leapt on.
The other man simply used Craig’s feet as a fulcrum to pivot over, landing directly behind Craig. As Craig jackknifed up, a leg dropped over his chest, trapping him on the mat. It was somewhat like being entrapped in the coils of a large constrictor. The whole battle took less than a moment.
Craig fell back with a grunt, then took a second to catch his breath before nodding defeat to the man looking down at him.
“Well done. Raile, isn’t it?”
“Yes, sir. Thank you. Try blocking with a return kick next time. You have superior strength in your legs.”
“Thanks, I’ll remember that.”
The Serpentian gave Craig a hand up. With a bow, both moved to their right and a new partner.
Craig bested his next partner, one of the male cadets.
However, he was thumped onto the mat by Scala, who flicked her forked tongue teasingly at him from her perch on his back. She also rubbed an intimate portion of her anatomy against him. He was sure it was purposeful. He had turned down her advances on the last voyage, and he was under no illusions that she had forgotten. Serpentian women were not used to being refused.
“I’ll teach you how to avoid the twist move if you like, Captain,” she hissed into his ear.
“Great,” he grimaced. “But for now, could you get off my spine?”
“Huh. You Earthlings aren’t very flexible.”
Feeling his backbone pop as he rose, Craig had to agree. He might be in top physical condition, but he was only human.
Craig twisted, stretching his back until he was satisfied that the vengeful Scala had done no more than leave bruises. Those he could heal with the help of a topical sports analgesic from the infirmary.
He found himself facing the green-eyed cadet again. He smiled at the sight of her pretty face. She returned it fleetingly, her eyes falling. Such shyness was unusual in a Serpentian. He would have sworn they were all born self-confident extroverts.
She was the attacker in this round. This time he was ready for her lightning fast approach and countered her scissor kick with his arm. She threw her weight back. He tucked, using his greater weight to carry her with him into a roll. He landed on top, pinning her.
He saw her head bounce, felt her body jolt beneath his own. He jack-knifed off her. Damn, he was so much heavier than she!
“Are you all right?” He knelt over her. Her skin was like damp silk under his hands.
She blinked up at him, but gathered herself. Her cheeks reddened, and he realized that she was embarrassed.
“I’m sorry—I was too rough with you.”
She gri
nned as abashedly as a little girl.
“Oh, no, sir. I don’t think I could respect a captain who couldn’t best me in combat.”
Chapter Five
Tessa watched the captain’s blue eyes widen in surprise. He chuckled, then rose, pulling her up with him. His hand engulfed hers.
She stood before him, feeling slight and feminine beside his broad-shouldered frame.
“You—you’re skilled in hand-to-hand combat for a human,” she said quickly, then felt her face flame at her temerity.
But he took no offense, still smiling down at her. “Thank you. You’re not too bad either, for a girl who is obviously part-human herself.”
She gasped, shocked. “How did you know that?”
He turned his back to the room, his voice dropping. “Simple. You and I are the only ones in this room perspiring.”
Tessa peeped up at him, so taken by the way his movement enclosed the two of them that at first his words did not register. But her heart sank as she touched her damp unitard. Perspiration was inconvenient—she envied the other women in the guard, who simply glowed with heat after a hard workout.
He shook his head at her, his eyes warm. “Don’t worry, Cadet. On you it looks good. I, on the other hand, am in dire need of a shower-dry.”
He smiled down at her again, and then he was gone, moving through the now relaxed ranks with an easy stride. And she was left to relive the moment of contact, both physical and mental.
Glory, he was strong. And he smelled wonderful, like… She didn’t know what was different about him. She wanted to bury her nose in his hot skin and inhale him, absorb him.
Oh, of course—pheromones. Her face heated as she realized that she was rhapsodizing about the most basic of human sexual attractants. The male gave off a scent irresistible to certain females, causing her to be willing to mate, and thereby ensure the survival of the species.
Well, it certainly was effective. And she had made him laugh. She moved absently into her stretching moves, her lips curving as she remembered the deep huh-huh-huh in his chest, the way his eyes had crinkled, and those two creases beside his mouth, the flash of his white teeth.
