by Bevan Greer
How confused and troubled was he that he still wished Zedrax had shown him even a quarter of the love he’d felt for his legitimate, royal son, Zebram? The old man had treated Ren like filth his entire life. Ren hated the Fenturi blood that had made him so undesirable, even as he tried to hate the man who’d treated him so poorly.
He sank to his bed and held his head in his hands. He’d hunted and killed many rebels and traitors over the years, individuals that posed a threat to the Bylaran way of life. He’d even killed, though in battle, a group of Fenturi raiders, though few remained to plague Vinopol very much anymore.
His trained reaction to anything Fenturi was to grab a sword or rifle and expel it from this existence. But now the new king had ordered him to capture and protect a Fenturi.
His head pounded, pain and confusion making it difficult to function. Such weakness is unworthy of you. Shake it off, damn it. With threat of the Ragil Horde upon them, Ren couldn’t afford any vulnerability. He had to get a hold of his irrational fear, that the Fenturi blood in his veins would somehow make him less than he was, into the animal Zedrax had always known him to be.
The fear would be his undoing, and he had to get a handle on it.
In all of his years on Bylar, no one had mentioned his ties to the Fenturi for fear of Zedrax’s reprisal. And as he’d grown, no one mentioned it out of fear of Ren. But his crew knew and respected him. That the Hams now hinted at his Fenturi blood spoke volumes about their unease.
Castor had been just as vocal. A more solid friend none could think to have, Castor had always respected Ren’s desire not to discuss his background or ties to King Zedrax, a man whom Castor had disliked intensely. But even Castor knew they needed to use every weapon at their disposal to fight the coming Horde.
Ren sighed, knowing what he had to do even as he hated himself for it. Though he willingly took advantage of his Fenturi abilities in battle—swiftness of motion, greater strength, the ability to see in the dark—he used those gifts to protect his men, to defend Vinopol. He’d never openly admitted to himself he was embracing his Fenturi nature.
He did so now and felt as if his entire world shifted beneath him. Ren closed his eyes and felt a strange humming deep within. The force of ancient animal instinct raged throughout his body. He focused on his mission and envisioned a fellow Fenturi, pictured the Mari’s mark in his mind’s eye, and willed the being to come to him. Seething energy surrounded him, and to his shock he felt a blast of starfire in his consciousness.
The legendary blue fire skill that few Fenturi possessed had the ability to strike fear in the hearts of Legionnaires everywhere. Even Ren had been less than willing to engage a Fenturi wish such abilities, but now, experiencing the starfire personally, he didn’t know what to think.
His imagination, or something real inside him? Either way, the lure of power had snared him but good.
He opened his eyes and caught his breath, puzzled that he found it so hard to breathe, to think beyond feeling that starfire in his veins. Trying to calm himself, he panted lightly as he called to Castor over the intercom.
“Everything okay, Cap?”
“Fine, I think.” Ren took another deep breath and let it out, slowly. “Set a course for Rovi.”
***
Dare stood, her arms akimbo, and stared down at the small mining facility in the clearing a hundred feet below them. She and the others had donned black clothing and dark glasses to combat the Rovi sun’s harsh glare. The dark clothing absorbed the heat necessary on the cool planet, while the clothing and glasses protected their bodies from the sun’s harsh rays.
Roc remained bareheaded and without eye protection, though he wore black to match his companions. His white eyes glowed brightly as he spoke in common tongue to the weapon smith nodding at his words.
Roc turned back to them and managed to stroke Mra’s soft fur before she hissed at him for his forwardness and settled back at Dare’s side.
The past week everyone had seemed tenser than usual. Mra usually stayed on board the ship in the absence of a jungle planet, but even the feline had accompanied them today. Dare wondered if the pressure was a byproduct of her using her starfire, as if she’d somehow projected her nervous energy on those around her. Yet no one save Jace had mentioned the starfire blast, and she had to wonder if she simply imagined strain where there was none.
Roc smiled, and Dare felt better. “The smith consented to sell us not only the replacement blasters he set aside earlier for a Legion patrol, but he’s also throwing in a set of phasers, Blue rifles, and a Nexian transformitter and four beacons at half the normal asking price.”
Dare and Jace stared at Roc with amazement.
Shea grinned. “Don’t let him fool you into thinking he’s a master bargainer. The smith’s his cousin.” She jerked her thumb at the Rovi smith. “Isn’t he cute?”
Roc frowned down at her before the smith said something that caused Roc to laugh and reply in kind.
Dare sat on a rock cluster while Roc did his thing. She did like being off the ship, but she didn’t like having to be on Rovi for even a short while. The planet attracted too many Legionnaires due to its varied stock and quality of weaponry, not to mention its excellent raw materials that the Bylarans routinely used in building their ships.
The SpaceStalker had been made with Rovi resources, though the Nexians had crafted its design. Both Dare and Jace had agreed when she’d purchased the ship that the fates must have been clamoring for her to have it. The Nexian who sold it to her had been oddly taken with her blue eyes and had refused to haggle, practically giving her the ship with pride.
Dare ignored Jace—he’d been studying her for over a day now—and watched Shea. Shea watched Roc when he wasn’t looking, and raw emotion pained her golden gaze. But when Roc’s attention returned to her, the little Lynaran looked as mischievous as ever.
Odd. What do you make of that? she sent Jace.
No idea. Keep an eye on them…while I keep an eye on you.
Light and fire, let it go already.
Sure. Just as soon as you explain why you’re so full of energy these days.
Dare turned from him and waved at Shea to join her. When Shea did, she leaned closer and whispered, “So when are you and Roc finally going to stop aggravating each other and mate?”
Shea stammered on a noncommittal response as Roc rejoined them.
“Shea? Are you okay?” He wrapped a large gray hand around Shea’s slim arm.
Dare watched the two of them together, marveling at the huge gray alien’s gentle touch whenever he dealt with the petite yet fiery Shea.
“I’m fine.” She glared at Dare before smiling up at him. “Just fine, Roc. You go ahead and visit with Amron.” She motioned him back to his cousin.
“No,” Roc said sadly as he stared down at the mine below them. “I’m not welcome here. We should get going soon. Amron mentioned that a Legion ship had been sighted and reported in the area moments ago.”
Dare turned and met Jace’s leery gaze. They nodded, both thinking that they didn’t need to be found and questioned by a Legion ship, not with twenty-thousand in currency on board and a stolen gravity machine, compliments of a Legion starfighter.
“Use the teleporter,” Dare ordered. “Jace, you, Shea and Mra head back and get our systems online. I’ll stay with Roc while we finish up the transaction. We’ll pilot back to you in the speed shuttle.”
Jace nodded, attached the small teleporter beacons to his clothing and Mra’s fur—delicately, as the cat hissed at him—and waited while Shea attached her own.
“Okay, you’re set for the SpaceStalker.” Roc held the black box, his new toy, a Nexian teleporter that would cost a small fortune on in the legitimate market. “See you in a few.” His gaze lingered on Shea before he flipped the switch.
He and Dare watched as the three figures shimmered and vanished. Then she turned to him and smiled.
“What’s that look for?” Roc asked with a Rovi frown.<
br />
Dare reached up to rub his bald head and saw his eyes widen in surprise. “I’m so glad you’re a part of the crew.” She meant it. “I don’t know how we survived without you.”
Roc’s chest puffed with pride. “I don’t know either,” he said with no small amount of arrogance. Then he turned his stare toward the area where the ship hovered high in the atmosphere. “I hope they got there safely.”
Dare rolled her eyes. “Shea’s fine, Roc.”
“I meant everyone.”
“Sure you did. Don’t sound so defensive, big guy. We all know it’s only a matter of time before you and the thief hook up.” She pushed him back toward his cousin while he stammered is denial. “Go ahead and finish socializing while he gets our stuff. You know you want to. I’ll wait here for you.”
Roc leaned over to tussle her hair, then bussed her on the cheek.
“Hey.”
“You’re bossy for one so little.”
“Roc—”
“Aye, aye, Captain. Socializing to commence,” he said with a grin and rejoined his cousin for some last minute chatter.
Dare moved toward the edge of the mountain on which they stood and looked down at the miners below her. She could see several workers moving above ground and wondered how many were truly human and how many merely concealed their alien features.
She knew of Roc’s history and his sorry dealings with the humans on Rovi. Having been huge but mostly human looking until he’d reached adolescence, he’d been prodded constantly by the small humans in his mining village. Unfortunately, he’d been taunted one time too many and came into his alien strength while accidentally killing one of his tormenters.
Instead of investigating why Roc had been pushed so, his neighbors sought to banish him, which on Rovi was a fate worse than death to the closely-tied familial race. Roc had found his place in the outlaw world of the space pirates, but he insisted on keeping his Rovi form, denying his human half.
“I don’t ever want to forget where I come from,” he’d said when asked why he moved about in such a conspicuous form.
Why did humans always strive to isolate and hurt anything different, she wondered? Yet bigotry wasn’t isolated to humans. Every race had its problems. She thought of the Nearworlds and their lawlessness, the Motherworlds’ arrogance in their proud lineages.
She glanced at her timepiece, a wonderful item that automatically adjusted to local time depending upon planetary coordinates. She and Roc had already overstayed their allotted stay by ten Rovi minutes. A shiver swept her, and she had a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach that they needed to leave. Now.
“Come on, Roc,” she called and stared at the red and lavender skies around them. “We need to leave.”
Roc left his cousin with a hearty thanks and moved the bulk of their supplies to the shuttle, his large arms able to carry five times what Dare’s Fenturi strength could not.
Once on board the shuttle, they sped toward their ship. They docked, to Dare’s great relief, and she left Roc to unload their supplies so she could join Jace and Shea in the control room. Time to plot their next coordinates.
Jace? We’re back.
She stopped in her tracks hearing a fuzzy kind of static. Odd. Jace hadn’t mentally greeted her upon docking the shuttle, and he hadn’t answered her either. Even as she told herself she was probably being paranoid, she withdrew her Ton and crept silently down the corridor.
As she neared the front of the ship she stilled, but sensing nothing out of the ordinary, she continued toward the control room. The door opened easily and she found Shea and Jace sitting where they normally would.
“Jace? Shea? What’s going on?” she asked their backs, concerned that they still hadn’t turned to face her.
It’s a trap, Dare. Run! she heard in her mind before Jace yelled, “Go! It’s a trap. Get out.”
Then a sudden blow from out of nowhere rendered him unconscious. In the blink of an eye the rifle that had struck Jace vanished.
What the hels?
The air around the control room shimmered, and she sensed the enemy though she couldn’t see them. Suddenly two large men and one smaller man appeared in front of her, one binding Shea in ropes while the others faced her. She quickly took in the details even as she fired a blast at the man nearest her. He and his twin shocked her by dodging the Ton’s blasts. And then a fourth figure enveloped her in massive arms from behind, quickly disarming her.
She kicked behind her and earned a muffled grunt and freedom for her troubles. Jerking away and backing quickly to the wall, she faced the intimidating group before her.
The twins, two tall, muscular men with shaggy brown hair and blue eyes, stood over Shea and Jace. The man who’d taken her Ton looked familiar, his eyes wrinkled at the corners, showing her a joy for life not present on his warlike face. He had a barrel of a chest, a large frame like the others but wore a mustache that gave him a menacing appearance.
Another male, blue, small and curled into himself simply stared with interest around him. The air shimmered again, and a new intruder appeared.
“Shorhu shit.” Dare recognized the Legionnaire from Vembi, the same man who continued to haunt her nights and plague her with erotic dreams.
He stared at her, his features grim, his hands at his sides…weaponless. A glance round her showed all of his men without weapons. Then where had the Bylaran rifle gone that had struck Jace? And what about Roc? Had anyone captured him yet?
Without any more thought, she succumbed to her instinctive need to fight and protect her own and released the holds on her Fenturi blood.
-5-
She crouched low and stared unerringly at their weakest link, the small blue man with bulging eyes. Before she could think to capture him, he vanished. Her gaze narrowed when she realized he must have worn a beacon, like the others did. Apparently now everyone had teleporters.
“Where’s the Rovi?” the dark Legionnaire, Green Eyes, asked, his voice calm.
When she made no move to answer him, he nodded to the twins, who suddenly vanished. Swearing under her breath, she tossed a knife from her sleeve with deadly accuracy into the alarm panel right next to Jace’s prone form.
Lights and noise filled the room, and Shea’s fear receded enough to nod approvingly at her action. The added frowns of her two captors buoyed her spirits as well.
“I doubt it would do us any good to tell you the Legion has need of your ship and your assets?” Green Eyes asked. At Dare’s silence, he shook his head. “No? Then know we are commandeering this vessel and taking all of its occupants and equipment on behalf of the Legion. Some of the equipment, I’m sure you’ll agree, already belongs to the Legion.” He sounded amused.
Tired of his wordplay, Dare acted. Without warning, she executed a perfect low sweep with her legs that caught the brawny mustached man to her right. He tried to regain his balance, but a short jab rendered him immediately unconscious.
Green Eyes scowled at her and his now prone man. That’ll teach you not to underestimate me. To her bafflement, the challenge felt…right. She didn’t fear this confrontation. Instead, she was eager to engage in the pending battle.
The warrior had moved smoothly on Vembi, but here in her ship against a Fenturi she wondered how he’d do.
She circled him warily, keeping her distance from his lethal hands and feet.
He mirrored her actions and studied her. She struck out quickly, aiming for a vulnerable spot on his chest that he narrowly blocked. She swore to herself. With just one touch there he’d have been too sick to stand.
She ducked as he kicked at her head. In a test of strength the warrior would surely win. But Dare had been in battles before with larger men. Strength worked not half as well as speed and strategy.
If she could only get her Ton back… She spotted it near Jace.
She needed to keep Green Eyes occupied until Roc arrived. She had no doubt he would make short work of the twins, even if they did have a savage look a
bout them.
Green Eyes aimed at her throat, a little slower than she’d have though him capable, no doubt hoping to disable her with the same move she’d used on his man. She ducked back again and frowned at his less-than-enthusiastic follow-on punch. She sensed he meant to immobilize but not hurt her, for his movements seemed stiff, restrained. Not at all the way he’d fought the Shorhu Lord.
Using this knowledge to her advantage, she waited for his next attempt. He aimed a punch to her stomach to incapacitate her. Leaning into his fist, she seemed to absorb most of the attack, yet backed away from it too quickly for human eyes to witness. Then she made the pretense of succumbing to the blow and fell to the ground with a muffled moan.
Shea’s horrified shriek worked to cover as a distraction. Green Eyes seemed hesitant. Dare panted, as if with pain, and sent Jace a mental shout to kick the Ton toward her, praying some part of him would hear her.
Luckily, the Goddess was with her today. Jace managed a short kick. The weapon slid into her hands as she turned to fire a blast at the Legionnaire. Unfortunately, he’d moved from where he’d just been standing.
“By the Dark World,” she cursed and quickly looked around her. Nothing. The mustached man had disappeared as well. She hurried to the alarm board and switched off the wailing.
“Roc?” she called into the intercom. “Can you hear me? Roc?” she repeated but received no answer. Then another thought came to her. Mra? Can you hear me?
Between heartbeats, Roc and their attackers suddenly appeared. Even as she pointed the Ton at them, the twins aimed Bylaran rifles at Jace and Shea. Swearing as Roc’s large body slumped to the floor, Dare let the Ton dangle in her hand, her finger no longer on the trigger.
“Slowly,” the man with the mustache growled and eyed her with caution. Green Eyes glared at her next to him. The Legionnaires looked none the worse for wear. Great, just great. Roc and Jace were unconscious, Shea sat tied up in her chair, and Mra was nowhere to be seen.
