by Kali Argent
BOUNDLESS
Pandora, Book 2
Copyright © Kali Argent
BOUNDLESS
After years of hard work and sacrifice, Aeryn Chase is finally in possession of her own merchant ship. Piloting the Nightshade gives her purpose, security, and most of all, freedom—or so she thought. Touching down on Nekron for a scheduled trade stop, she didn’t expect to be detained by guards or have her ship ransacked, nor did she anticipate meeting the likes of Lieutenant Xavian Tira.
Enlisting the Earthling’s help to track down a fugitive, infiltrate a high-stakes auction, and locate a missing Legacy didn’t figure into Xavian’s plans. With the clock ticking and no alternatives, he reluctantly agrees, but from the moment they arrive on Earth, things only go from bad to worse. As Aeryn’s life hangs in the balance, Xavian is faced with an impossible decision—the death of one, or the death of many.
But how can he possibly choose between the woman he loves and the survival of an entire race?
BOUNDLESS
Copyright © October 2016 by Kali Argent
Cover Art by Black Butterfly Designs
Published by Peccavi Press INC
eBook ISBN: 978-1-940637-30-3
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal, except for the case of brief quotations in reviews and articles.
Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
DEDICATION
For everyone who believes in true love and happily-ever-afters…this is for you.
CHAPTER ONE
Planet Nekron, Year 2984
Aeryn Chase hated the dark.
Which was stupid, considering how much time she spent navigating the vast, unending blackness of space. She always kept the lights within the Nightshade burning at full capacity, even in the cargo area, and music blared over the ship’s intercom system at all times. The lights and music didn’t fully banish the boredom and loneliness that accompanied the long stretches of nothingness, but at least it kept her sane.
Entering Nekron airspace, she cut the music—currently a song with a chaotic drum beat from one of her favorite Earth bands—and sank into the captain’s seat. After disengaging the ship’s autopilot, she did a quick systems check, then dropped her shields so air control could conduct a security scan of the Nightshade.
“Welcome back, Chase,” a familiar voice greeted her through the speakers set into the command console. “Any Class 2 goods to declare?”
“Hey, Kyro.” Aeryn cut the thrusters and coasted over the neon lights that illuminated the capital city of Taldor. “No live animals this time, but I have a crate of blubai fruit from Atrea.”
A long silence met her announcement, and when Sergeant Dyson Kyro finally responded, he sounded tense. “You’ve been to Atrea?”
“Yeah, it was my last stop. Why?” Her merchant license covered goods from seven planets, fourteen space stations, and even three uninhabited planetoids, so she didn’t understand the problem. “Did something happen?”
“Just tightened security,” Kyro assured her. “You’re cleared for landing. Proceed to Landing Pad A5 and remain on your vessel. Security officers will be waiting to search your ship.”
“Search my ship? Why?” During the three years she’d been making trade stops on Nekron, only once had her vessel been searched beyond the longwave scanner, and that had been during her first visit to the planet.
In that time, she’d flown everything from freighters with crews of over fifty to single-occupancy supply shuttles for various cargo companies. It had taken nearly a decade to finally save enough units to purchase the decommissioned Stravoris merchant cruiser, and she’d cut into her savings to refit the vessel as a Reefer Carrier. The rewards far outweighed the costs, though, and the added climate controlled bay allowed her to transport live cargo as well as perishable goods, which nearly tripled her profits.
“New security protocol,” he answered evasively. “Proceed to Landing Pad A5.”
“Fine, keep your secrets.” She’d find out what was happening on Nekron soon enough. She had a delivery to make to the Blue Fog, and everyone there loved to talk. “Nightshade initiating landing sequence. See you soon, Kyro.”
Ending the communication, she navigated toward the landing fields situated between the mountains and the outlying village of Dansfore. A seemingly unending night stretched beyond the cockpit window, relieved only by the varying colored lights that illuminated the dozens of circular tarmacs below.
The landing pads had been clustered together in groups of five, each group comprising six different sectors. In the northeast corner of the field, the blinking purple lights of Sector A beckoned, while the center landing pad shined a holographic projection of the number 5 into the air.
Blindingly white lights lit up the glass tubes that connected each sector and ran all the way to the exit platform at the front gates of the fields. Even from the distance, Aeryn could see people coming and going from the tubes, most dressed in the standard all-black uniform of the Nekron guards. Only one other ship occupied Sector A, a midsized personal-use cruiser, likely owned by a prominent, wealthy visitor, hence the private transport waiting on the tarmac next to the craft.
Hovering over the designated landing pad, she engaged the autopilot again, and stood, stretching her arms over her head. She bent to the left, then the right, loosening the muscles in her back and hips. The Nightshade had been upgraded with every means of technology she could afford, allowing her to operate with a minimum crew—or no crew at all if absolutely necessary.
With a sigh, she punched the yellow button beneath a speaker in the wall to activate the ship’s onboard communication system and winced at the electric buzz that followed. She’d have to get that looked at when she made it back to Earth.
“Ivo! Carrez! Greyson! Get your lazy asses out of bed. We’re here.”
“We’re already in the cargo bay,” her fellow Earthling, Mila Greyson responded through the speakers. “Where are you, oh, Captain, my Captain?”
“Just so you know, I will leave you here.”
“Doubtful.”
Well, she couldn’t argue with that. Aeryn had never met anyone else, herself included, who could rewire a core cell—while in hyperdrive.
She swayed sideways when the Nightshade set down on the tarmac. “Stay aboard,” she said into the intercom. “We’re being searched.”
“Why the fuck are they searching us?” Katana Carrez demanded, her voice deep and husky.
Within their small crew, they all had their roles to play. Katana came from the wilds of Jura, and she had a reputation for kicking ass first and…well, she didn’t really ask questions, later or otherwise. She handled security, both on and off the Nightshade, while Mila served as the ship’s mechanical and technical engineer.
“Should I dispose of them, Captain?”
Aeryn grinned as she shook her head. Deucalion Ivo, their only male crewmember, hailed from Crimnia, and he handled the contracts, the finances, and all the logistics of running a business that made her head hurt. Plus, he doubled as the ship’s medic when needed. Really, he did a little bit of everything, and his magical abilities had proven beneficial more than once. His normally laidback attitude provided balance to their odd little family. So, his offer to “dispose” of the Nekros attempting to board their home made her laugh.
“Let them search,” she answered. “We have nothing to hide.”
Aeryn switched off the comms and stripped
out of her black tank top. With Nekron just beginning its six-month cycle of frigid night, she selected a dark green sweater that matched the color of her eyes, pulled it on, and freed her long hair from the collar. The ends draped over her shoulders, the pin-straight tresses falling down over her breasts. She frowned at the frayed tips. At least an inch at the bottom appeared lighter and duller than the rest of her golden locks.
Sighing, she swept her hair into a messy knot at her crown and tied it with an elastic band she’d picked up somewhere during her travels. A haircut was just something else to add to her growing list of shit she needed to do. Grabbing a thin, black jacket from a retractable hook on the wall, she pulled it on, zipping it up to her chin, then made her way to the side exit just as the door slid up, ushering in a blast of icy wind.
The exposed skin on her face and hands stung, but the jacket, while lightweight, held in her body heat, protecting her from the worst of the cold. She’d traded a pair of boots, a week’s worth of fresh beef, and an entire case of Stravoris ale on Gamma Station for the damn thing, and it was still one of the best purchases she’d ever made.
“Captain Chase.” The Nekros standing at the bottom of the ship’s stairs held his arms loose at his sides, but his shoulders were tense beneath his heavy, fur-lined coat. “We need you and your crew to wait on the landing pad while we search your vessel.”
“Vessel?” Aeryn didn’t move from the doorway, still waiting to hear an explanation as to why the search was necessary. “As in the entire ship? Not just the cargo bay?”
“Yes, ma’am,” a second guard answered, wisps of dark hair peeking out from beneath his black stocking cap. “If you’ll please disembark, it shouldn’t take long.”
Movement toward the back of the ship caught her attention, and Aeryn frowned at the two additional guards stomping toward the cargo entrance. Something was definitely wrong, but she hadn’t gotten as far as she had in life by being stupid. The guards wanted her cooperation, and for the time being, she’d give it to them.
Touching her left ear, she activated her commlink. “Katana Carrez,” she said quietly.
“Contacting First Officer Carrez. Transmission connected.”
Once the comm system’s AI connected them, Aeryn didn’t wait for questions. “Carrez, stand down. Just do what the guards ask, and meet me on the tarmac.”
Then she disconnected the call before Katana could argue with her. With her hands slightly raised, keeping them visible to the guards at all times, she descended the steps one at a time, her movements slow, cautious.
“Okay, boys. She’s all yours.” Aeryn tilted her head back and to the side, indicating the Nightshade. “Be gentle.”
* * * *
Bracing himself against the frigid winds that swept down the mountain face, Lieutenant Xavian Tira rounded his shoulders and flipped the collar of his black uniform jacket up to cover his nape. He hated the night, loathed all one hundred and ninety-two moon cycles of it. He missed the sun, the warmth of its rays, the way the light glinted off the now-frozen ponds at the base of the mountain compound.
In the distance, the neon lights from the capital city of Taldor illuminated the sky, blotting out the stars in the east. The planet’s moon hung low near the horizon, casting its cold, silver radiance over the snowcaps as if mocking his discomfort.
“You look like someone kicked you in the balls.” Balancing atop the narrow railing of the sixth-floor catwalk that surrounded Pandora, Lieutenant Vane Schiva studied him intently, his dual-colored eyes narrowed. “You’re thinking about that Atrean asshole again, aren’t you?”
At the mention of Asa Brax, Xavian’s mood darkened. “It’s been weeks, and there’s no sign of him. He probably hopped the first cargo ship off the planet as soon as he left the commander’s office.”
The Nekron guards had searched every inch of the city and surrounding villages to no avail. The Atrean dignitary’s ship remained under close watch in the landing fields, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t found another way off the planet. Incoming and outbound vessels were all being searched, but too little too late.
Vane nodded, his golden hair whipping around his face in the wind. “You’re probably right, but that still doesn’t make it your fault.” Jumping down from the railing, he landed silently beside Xavian, his booted feet making no noise against the steel grates. “No one is blaming you, and blaming yourself isn’t going to solve anything.”
Xavian grunted. He had every reason to blame himself. When Asa had requested a meeting to discuss a possible uprising on the Morphling planet of Promena, Xavian had scoffed and rolled his eyes. A demon-like race of warriors, the Morphlings wouldn’t allow themselves to be controlled by the Atreans forever. Everyone had seen the uprising coming, except apparently the Atreans.
Matters had been complicated, however, when Asa had brought up the discovery of Atrea’s lost princess—who just happened to be Vane’s new mate. Charlotte Rousseau wasn’t just any Atrean, though. She was a Legacy, the last remaining child of her bloodline able to wield the power of the Jewel of Atrea. It her hands, the jewel had the power to bring untold fortune and adoration from her people.
Of course, Charli wanted no part of it, and Vane had flat out refused when Asa demanded he hand over his new mate so that she might be groomed for the throne. When he’d suggested Atrea would be willing to go to war to ensure the return of their princess, Xavian had heard enough.
Asa Brax had manipulated them all, and Xavian had fallen for it without pause. Hoping to avoid war, he’d suggested Vane use the female he loved in a dangerous power play against the Atrean High Council. Instead of having his friend’s back, he’d argued with him, chastised him for not putting the greater good above his own desires.
All because it had been the easy way, the path of least resistance.
He liked Charli, but he’d had to consider his duty to his people, to think of the needs of the many verses the needs of one.
He hadn’t realized his mistake until far too late, not until after Vane and Charli had both been assaulted, kidnapped, and spirited away to Atrea. If not for an unlikely ally in the form of a rogue Morph, he might never have seen either of them again—not without waging the war he’d been so desperate to avoid.
Upon Vane’s return to Nekron with his mate, Xavian had promised to right his wrongs, to make right what he’d broken. The best way to honor that oath was to hunt down Asa Brax and beat some answers out of the little bastard.
“You’re still thinking about it,” Vane accused, rubbing his gloved hands together and ducking his head against the icy gusts. Frowning, he looked over the railing, to the catwalks below. “What the hell are we doing up here anyway?”
“Patrol.” Security had been tightened since Vane and Charli’s abduction, and the Morphling who had helped them escape Atrea had been busy pointing out all the flaws in their protocols. “Speaking of which, we should get moving.”
Pandora housed some of the most mysterious and dangerous objects in the universe. Artifacts and relics from across the galaxies were brought to the compound. On the lowest level, closest to the tunnels that ran through the mountains, Division One held the least dangerous of those confiscated objects. Voodoo dolls from Earth, talismans from Crimnia, and a cup that forever refilled itself with wine, taken from a Stravoris’ ship.
As the lifts rose through the mountains, each level became increasingly more dangerous. Division Six, where they currently stood, housed such gems as the Jurdanian Eternal Embers. True, the flame produced by the embers didn’t literally last for eternity, but the last time they’d been unleashed, right there in Pandora, the fires had burned for more than a decade.
Still, nothing could compare to Division Eight.
On the highest level, under several layers of security, Division Eight was comprised of a single room not much bigger than a closet. Within it, they kept the most precarious and unpredictable of magics. It was there the Nekros had placed the Legacy Relics, seemingly harmless bobbl
es from many of the known races. Some had been entrusted to them for safekeeping. Others, they’d forcibly taken, and all of them posed a threat with the potential to spread to the far reaches of the universe.
“Because you’re stubborn, and you never listen.”
Squinting against the battering winds, Xavian looked up at his friend with a raised eyebrow. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Vane held his hand up, index finger extended, his other hand cupped around his ear to block the wind from his commlink. He nodded a couple of times, his eyes softening as his lips curved upwards at the corners.
Only one person could put that look on the Lieutenant’s face.
“Yes, prya. I said I’d be there, didn’t I? Yes, I’ll pick it up on the way. No, I won’t forget. No, no, I don’t want to talk to—” Vane closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand.
Part of Xavian wanted to laugh at the utter look of defeat on the male’s face, while another part of him, small but growing louder, envied the love his friend shared with his mate.
“Hello, Mother,” Vane answered after a brief pause. “Yes, I’ll be there. I know what time dinner starts. Yes, I remember what happened last time.” His tone took on a hard edge. “Charlotte is already there. How could something possibly happen to her while I’m traveling?” He deflated instantly and bobbed his head again, a quiet sigh escaping his lips on a billow of smoke. “Yes, Mother. I’m sorry, Mother. I’ll be there after the meeting. I love you, too.”
In many respects, Xavian and Vane were in complete contrast to one another. Where Vane had long, golden locks, Xavian’s tresses flowed down his back in an inky curtain as black as the night. Vane was tall and lean with a narrowed waist and broad shoulders. Xavian, while tall, was stockier, more muscular, and he never missed an opportunity to test his strength against his friend.
Vane had been born into a family of overachievers, and as the son of a commander and an elder, he’d had his future laid out for him before he’d ever spoken his first word. Xavian, on the other hand, couldn’t remember his parents. Logically, he knew he’d had parents, but they’d died shortly after his fourth birthday.
