by Bevan Greer
“I’m fine.” Six hours? Ren never needed more than four to function. “Probably just the stress of our mission.”
“You? Stressed?”
“I’m fine,” he growled.
“Right. Okay. Well then, I think you’d better get back to the control room.” He paused. “You’re not going to believe what Phin’s put together.”
-7-
“It’s been a week. I think we’re safe now.”
Dare groaned, wishing she could tune Shea out the way Mra seemed able to. The blasted cat could sleep through a planet-wide quake.
The crew had settled back into life hidden on planet Kre a week ago, as soon as Dare and an exhausted Jace had returned from their time aboard Eyshan6. Ever since, they’d kept a low profile.
Shea continued to complain, apparently still not understanding why a raid on Lynar would be extremely unwise just now. Dare understood. The little Lynaran needed action, needed to thieve or move. To do something.
She wanted to as well, but with the Legion everywhere, threats of her head on a platter, they had to wait and be smart.
Roc sighed. “Enough, Shea. We won’t be safe until they find the Mari. That Legionnaire captain is as mean and persistent as a Rovi smith.” Roc gave Ren the ultimate compliment. “You wouldn’t believe what they’re saying about the Eyshan6.”
“Actually, I would.” Jace had his hands behind his head as he swung on a hammock above Dare. “Let’s run down our problem.”
Dare groaned. “Oh, let’s.” She hated hearing it as much as Jace apparently loved rubbing in her face how screwed they were. She’d thought they might be able to fight their way to safety in the Outworlds, but the crew had overruled her. Taking refuge on Kre seemed safer to Jace, Roc, and Mra. But Dare and Shea were about to die of boredom.
“So our problem…” Dare could feel Jace’s stare burning into her as he spoke. “Ren is actually Garen Vinopol—the bastard son of Bylaran King Zedrax. He’s on a mission to save the entire System, if you can believe it. The Mari, as far as Ren and his brother—the new high king of Bylar—know, is the only one who can power a weapon a special weapon called the Thrax. Apparently the Bylarans are listening to rumors that the Horde is again loose in the Outworlds. Oh, and they’re twice as strong as they were over a millennia ago.”
“Just great.” Dare groaned.
“So what do you know about this Thrax thing?” Roc asked Dare.
“Nothing.” Frustration at their inactivity clawed at her. “And I’m not the Mari. Hel and demons, Jace, we can’t hide here forever.”
“She’s got a point.” Shea shrugged at his and Roc’s glare.
“But we have to let this hunt ease a bit,” Roc said. “Did you know that just a few days ago they posted alert warnings for our capture? And I mean, System wide. My cousin out in the Nearworlds heard about it.” Dare refused to comment, so Roc doggedly persisted. Typical Rovi never let anything go. “You might not want to hear it, but hiding out here was the smart thing to do. We couldn’t get a lightstar’s distance through the System without bumping into a Legion patrol.”
“And just what do you think they’re planning to do with us when they catch us, mighty captain?”
She could do without Jace’s sarcasm. “I don’t know. I’m not a mind reader.” She saw the glance Roc and Shea exchanged, but Jace ignored her.
“I’ll tell you what they’d do. They’d take you to Bylar to work a weapon you’ve never heard of. The rest of us? Well, I suppose they could use some better target practice than the few Fenturi still evading capture on their planet.”
Dare scowled, knowing he was right. “Fine. I admit you did the right thing bringing us here. Happy now?”
Mra grinned at her and sat at Jace’s feet, purring. The feline’s estimation of him had increased tenfold since they’d returned to Mra’s homeworld. She’d even gone so far as to leave him fresh kills as tokens of her newfound affection.
“What’s that?” Jace clutched his heart. “I must be dying. I could have sworn our fearless leader just admitted I was right.”
Roc and Shea laughed. Even Mra let out a feline chuckle. Dare didn’t find him as amusing and flipped him out of the hammock. Unfortunately, the damn Psi’s agility allowed him to land on his feet.
“So, Dare, what’s this Starfire thing that Jace mentioned yesterday?” Shea asked with interest. When Dare remained silent, Shea sighed. “Look, the Legion wants you, which means we’re all involved. I think we—as your crew, and more importantly, as the people who put up with you on a daily basis—have a right to know.”
Jace said gently, “No one will think you a freak, Dare.”
Roc laughed. “Her a freak? I’m the only gray guy sitting here.”
“I’ve got yellow eyes and an Illusion talent unique to the system,” Shea piped in, sounding proud.
Roc pointed a thumb in Jace’s direction. “Not to mention our blond friend with the weirdest, deepest black eyes I’ve ever seen.”
“Thanks,” Jace grumbled.
“Okay.” Dare took a deep breath and let it out. “Just remember you asked to see this.” She focused on a small piece of dead wood sitting in the rock-walled fire pit in front of them. Nothing happened but a small puff of smoke.
“That’s it?” Shea asked with disappointment.
“No.” Dare tried again. Calling on her starfire from a calm state took more energy than releasing it when excited. She deliberately called on her rage at the man ultimately responsible for their stay on Kre. She saw Ren’s face in her mind’s eye, the smug son of the butcher king responsible for the continued slaughter of the Fenturi.
But her mind refused to stop there and resurrected the haunting kiss she and Ren had shared. A kiss that refused to leave from her thoughts, no matter how hard she tried to pretend it hadn’t happened.
The wood in the fire pit caught fire, except it didn’t burn orange. Instead, a bright blue flame burned hotter and quicker than any normal fire should.
“It even burns in space,” Jace mentioned.
Roc and Shea stared from the fire to Dare.
“That’s even better than my illusions.” Shea gaped at her.
“Yeah.” Roc nodded. “Just think. If we could harness that into a Rovi weapon, we’d be filthy rich.” He grinned, apparently amazed, and like Shea, unthreatened by Dare’s unique gift.
Mra curled around Shea’s legs and purred as she stared at the fire, her eyes glowing.
“You know, Dare, yours and Mra’s eyes are bright blue just now,” Jace said. “And that sensual bleedover thing Roc and I were talking about before? It’s back.”
Shea raised a brow at Roc, who grinned despite looking embarrassed.
Dare forced herself to pull her energy back, and once she felt normal once more, the four of them reflected on what they’d seen.
“They call you the Mari.” Jace tapped his cheek. “And we know Mari is one of Bylar’s moons. According to Ren, only the Mari can power this ancient weapon. But there was more I couldn’t understand. That man has a head like a rock. Ah, no offense Roc.”
Roc frowned.
Shea laughed. “So why call Dare the Mari. Unless she was born there?”
Dare shook her head. “Mari has been uninhabitable for over a hundred years. I was born on Fentra.” What her mother had once called it.
“Wait. Fentra?” Shea blinked. “I’m not familiar with that planet. Or is it an outpost? A lost colony?”
“What the System now calls Bylar,” Jace explained, since Dare wasn’t going to. “The Bylarans have been fighting a civil war for over three hundred years. Fentra was the original name of the planet, though the Bylarans have all but stricken the word from their vocabulary. When Bylar—the man—arrived on the world to colonize it for his people, he engaged in a war to dominate the planet.”
Roc shook his head. “I’ll never understand why different species can’t seem to get along. Take Rovi. If only the human settlers would lose their distrust for my
alien people, they’d find we’re not so different.”
Shea agreed. “Obviously your mother and father found that truth. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here.” She laughed at his pained expression. “Ha! See? He flushes.”
“I’ll never understand how you can tell that on his gray skin.” Jace grinned. “But about the Fenturi, you’ve only heard one side of the Bylaran slaughter all these years. I’ve heard another side.”
Another side? “How have you heard another side?” Dare was more curious about Fenturi history than Jace possibly believing an untruth.
“My own history is pretty sketchy. But one thing we kept sacred—excellent records of the System’s history. We keep an unbiased opinion. Or at least, we did.” His gaze seemed to turn inward for a moment.
Dare caught a glimpse of the sadness Jace tucked deep. She felt anger and an intense need for justice. Then, to her surprise, she saw a face…
He whipped his head around and stared at her in astonishment. Quickly shutting down, he continued the conversation as if he hadn’t just let something slip.
How…odd.
He cleared his throat. “Yes, well, from what I recall, the Bylaran settlers were scared of the Ragil Horde. The few settlers that managed to survive those hundreds of years after the slaughter of their Outworld vowed never again to submit to alien invasion. Unfortunately, they didn’t see themselves as the invaders when they arrived on Fentra, but cherished the role of a victimized people.”
“They fed off of their fear.” Roc nodded, familiar with a situation so like his own.
“Yes, they did. The Fenturi didn’t exactly help. If you’ve ever seen an open, fully mature Fenturi, well… They’re a sight to behold. The women are beautiful.” He nodded at Dare. She tried but couldn’t contain a blush. “Their people revel in love and sensuality. They have a strength and solidarity of purpose in everything they do. Their males are proud, bordering on arrogant. But I’ve never met a better class of hunter.”
Shea nodded. “So on the one hand you have the scared but strong Bylarans who survived years in captivity on a decaying world destroyed by the Horde. They escaped only to land on Fentra, where they met the larger than life Fenturi, a beautiful and proud race unfamiliar with failure. Neither side is willing to give.”
“Exactly.” Jace shrugged. “I’m not saying what Bylar did was right, but he didn’t just start killing the Fenturi on a whim. Both sides contributed to the war.”
“A war that continues today,” Dare said with satisfaction. “Apparently, all is not well on Bylar. Garen slipped that bit of information.” He’d slipped it mentally to Jace, but no need to tell Roc and Shea the truth. They suspected the truth, but until they knew it for sure, they couldn’t be accused of harboring knowledge of a Psi. Bad enough they knew of a Fenturi at large in the System. Gods-forbid the Legionnaires learn such.
Typical. Her thoughts returned to the head Legionnaire hunting her. He’d seemed too strong and vital for a mere Bylaran. To find that he was merely another Fenturi assassin, and that of the royal house, had unsettled her.
That she still had the most sensual dreams about the man only aggravated her all the more. How could she be attracted to someone who made his living brutalizing the Fenturi? Granted, few still lived on their homeworld, but only because if they were found, they’d be killed on the spot.
The years spent with her parents on Fentra had been agonizing to remember, as the end of the happy times never failed to show itself. Unwilling to recall the horror that had nearly driven her young mind beyond repair, Dare focused on her life after her escape.
For years she, Mra, and Jace had traveled space seeking riches, as well as a sense of purpose. Then Roc and Shea had joined them, and their adventures filled a void in Dare’s life. But now something real and honest called to her—the cry of Fenturi freedom.
Why now? Why all of a sudden the urge to free her people? A people she hadn’t even tried to help in years? Before guilt could rear its ugly head again, Dare focused on the here and now, which meant staying out of the Legion’s greedy hands. Most certainly, she needed to avoid Captain Ren and the Eyshan6. Did he want her because he knew she was the Mari? Or for some other reason? Perhaps he’d learned more about her exploits than she knew?
“No, Dare,” Jace interrupted. “Ren knows who you are. It’s only a matter of time before he finds us.”
***
“A Nearworld planet. Kre if I’m not mistaken.” Primo scratched his stubbly chin.
“Kre, hmm? Stalker cats are native to Kre.” Ren smiled, and the crew looked uneasily at one another.
Castor sighed. For over two weeks the SpaceStalker had eluded the entire Legion. Though Ren wanted nothing more than to get his hands on the ship’s sexy captain, at this point to throttle her, Castor felt a reluctant admiration for a space crew that could evade them as long as Dare’s crew had.
Castor watched as Ren’s eyes widened, his nostrils flaring as if scenting his prey. His skin took on a faint glow, his eyes a brighter green. Castor turned. The twins appeared similarly affected—their skin luminescent, their eyes a neon blue. He privately likened them to a pack of stalker cats following the lead male.
Normally solitary creatures, stalker cats, when thrust together, formed a solid unit. Castor had done a lot of reading on this trip. Bored at their lack of fighting and adventure, he for one would be more than happy to encounter anything illegal or questionable, if only to unleash some of the tension in his best friend.
When Phin had first relayed his suspicions about Dare, Castor had been disturbed by Ren’s reaction. Castor knew Ren was attracted to the space pirate. He hadn’t expected that learning she might be a Fenturi, the very one they’d been sent to find, would shoot Ren’s temper supernova.
He’d been too cold, too controlled. Castor feared for the female’s safety when they found her. He had no doubt they would, since Ren never lost a quarry once he started pursuit.
“She’s on Kre,” Ren said with deep satisfaction.
Castor noted the twins’ happy reaction as well.
“Finally,” Ned said on a breath.
“We’ll get some fighting action.” Nesh agreed.
“No one touches the woman,” Ren said coldly, and every one of his crew felt the bite in his words.
“Understood.” Castor and the others acknowledged his order and moved back to their positions.
Primo looked at the captain with sad eyes. The poor bastard had grand hopes for a revisit to Vembi after a quick stop at Kre. But Castor could have told him they wouldn’t be going to Vembi anytime soon, despite them all needing a pleasurer and a Bitter Blue something fierce.
“We’ll be there by tomorrow, Captain,” Primo relayed and set back to work plotting his course.
And then what will you do, I wonder? Castor eyed Ren, determined to help his friend deal with whatever his Fenturi nature demanded. He just prayed that didn’t mean killing any beautiful space thieves.
***
Talk about coming home again. Jace absolutely hated slavers. He fired another shot and rolled toward the small child as an Olm pirate drew a bead on her. His shot struck true, because the man fell. Jace urged the child to follow the escape trail the others made as they fled the ship. A line of women and children no doubt culled from a poor town on a colony no one would miss. The bastards. He hoped every one of these pirates would die a slow and painful death.
And speaking of death… “Hurry up, Dare,” he muttered as he watched her blast another pirate from the deck of the ship. Once satisfied the cargo hold had been evacuated, she yelled out to Shea and Roc that all was clear, then leapt to the side as a blaster cannon rocketed through the hold.
Good night. That was close, he sent to her.
No kidding, she sent back.
“Ye bleedin’ idiots,” the Olm pirate captain screamed. “The land defenses are here to blast the invaders. Not me own ship!”
Dare sprinted by Jace, and he followed her, racing toward the
speeders they’d left hidden in the brush.
Just yesterday after their rousing discussion of Fenturi history, Jace had received a mental summons for help, the emotional despair of so many impossible to ignore. Not that he would have anyway. He hated the scum who stole lives. Apparently, the Olm pirates had returned to their hideaway on the south side of the particular island where Jace and crew were holding up. And even better, the pirates had a hold full of young slaves.
Jace and a reluctant Dare had hidden the SpaceStalker in the Olm pirate’s home port. The pirates’ reputation was such that not even the Legion attempted to rouse them. And only a very foolish, or a very desperate, crew would think to poach on Olm territory.
Jace liked to think of himself as intelligent rather than foolish. He’d found the perfect hiding spot. Or so he’d thought.
He swore again, knowing he shouldn’t have told the others about the slaves. Once Shea had heard that children would be sold and possibly sacrificed by the Olm, she’d been quick to organize a rescue party. Bored out of his mind and always one to protect the young, Roc had readily joined her. Dare had been only too ready to transfer her troubled thoughts about the future to a helpless crusade. He’d thought himself an idiot for allowing emotion to cloud his judgment. Turned out he wasn’t the only one.
Now he tried to follow a maddened Fenturi through the woods, moving as best he could so as not to become the next Olm sacrifice.
He stumbled and rolled to his feet, his momentum taking him farther forward. He soon appeared in the opening where the speeders should have been but weren’t.
Black hels and demons. A frek of a situation.
Instead of the speeders, five large, foul-smelling pirates stood waiting, their sabers and phasers drawn for battle. Jace cursed as he realized he’d lost his phaser when he’d tripped, and that none of his crew looked to be near. The pirates must have sensed his poor luck, because they smiled as they surrounded him.
“Well, well, an interloper, I’m thinkin’.” A rusty-haired, bushy-bearded thug spat at him. Disgusting but pretty par for the course with Kre scum.
