2
Raisa Lovell clawed her way through the dry sand. It covered her skin, sticking to the sweat to rub uncomfortably in some unfortunate areas. She coughed as she inhaled dust. Torgan’s temperatures were not the hottest in the universe, but they felt damned close. It was so hot that her attackers had given up digging the shallow grave and just kicked sand over her.
Colleagues had warned her about coming to Torgan, but Raisa was desperate. She needed parts to fix her molecular gastro-spectrometer. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t be able to send in coding for recipes for the new model of food simulators being manufactured. No recipes meant no space credits, which meant no way to earn over the next few years, which meant she’d starve stranded on some back-planet outpost. Or worse, she’d have to apply for a job with the ESC. The Exploratory Science Commission would assign her to some laboratory, and she’d have no say in the bureaucratic nonsense they would foist on her.
Right now, bureaucratic didn’t sound half bad. At least they’d give her something to drink. And come looking for her if she disappeared. At present, no one was looking for her. She was on her own.
She tried to croak out a sound as she passed one of the adobe shops. The man standing in the doorway glared at her suspiciously and shut the door. No one would want to get involved with a dirt-covered humanoid woman. For one, they had no reason to help her. People on Torgan rarely did anything without monetary motivation. For another, self-preservation would tell them to mind their own business. Her best bet was to get to the main trading complex.
The sand slid beneath her feet, making it hard to walk. The breeze stirred the granules until they found their way into every nook. She covered her mouth with her arm and kept her head down.
It felt like an eternity before she reached the modern complex. Metal steps led from the sand to the glass barrier that would let her back inside. Breathing hard, she pulled her herself up by the rail as her legs shook to keep her upright. Her head pressed against the glass and she waved her arm in front of the scanner. It didn’t immediately open to let her pass and she had to make several attempts.
When the glass finally slid open, she wasn’t ready for it and she fell forward onto her hands and knees. The door slid shut and the ventilation turned on, blowing up from the floor to suck the dirt from her body. The cool breeze was welcome, and she was disappointed when it stopped. She crawled into the complex. The metal floor turned to concrete. She collapsed forward, letting her body soak in the cool.
Raisa had no idea how long she lay on the complex floor, or if she even retained consciousness for that time. Not one person stopped to offer assistance. The universe really was a lonely place.
Her mind raced, as if trying to shock her body into action. She couldn’t stay on the floor. She needed to get to the ship she’d commissioned for a ride. She needed to find someone with a part for her…
For the unit they had stolen from her. Her molecular gastro-spectrometer was gone. Without it she couldn’t work, and there was no way she was going to find another one.
Raisa wanted to lay down and cry, but the sound of footsteps propelled her into action. She gritted her teeth and jerked her body upright. Her left leg felt numb and tingled each time she put pressure on it. She limped down the concrete walkway, past the rows of ships.
The rough mix of humanoids and other aliens milled around the docking lot. She kept a lookout for the traders who had double crossed her, but really didn’t trust anyone she saw. A hairy creature with matted braids all over his body argued with a short green humanoid who had over a dozen tiny horns poking out of the top of his head. They stopped when they saw her. Raisa averted her gaze and held still until they continued on.
Alien creatures didn’t frighten her. As strange as they might look to her with their blue skin, or wings, or reptilian flesh, she probably appeared just as odd to them. Her mother, Janice Lovell, had been a human from New Earth, and her father, Harpin, was Angelion. She didn’t inherit his wings, but she did have his knack for repairing mechanical and electrical things. Angelions were particularly adept when it came to technology. It’s probably why she was so good at figuring out the recipe codes for food simulators.
People said she looked like her mother, though Raisa barely remembered the woman. Janice had been part of a technophobe movement and refused medical treatment for an injury. At five years old, Raisa didn’t understand. Later in life, however, it became difficult not to resent the woman for not fighting to survive. It was fairly obvious Janice’s rejection of technology had come from her breakup with Harpin. They didn’t part on nice terms.
She wondered why she was thinking of her parents. Maybe it was because she had no one else to think about. Jobby Dawks deposited space credits into her account. They always got along, but she wouldn’t go so far as to call him a friend. She’d made various contacts around the universes, some she’d even been invited to stay with in their homes as she studied every culinary dish they knew how to make. Food simulators were big business, and the more cultures they could represent with their recipe collections, the more units they could sell.
Why was she thinking about work? Raisa touched her head, and realized she was leaning against a metal hull for support. Beneath a layer of sand on her forehead was a sticky substance. She pulled her fingers away and saw blood. A hot tear slid down her cheek. She swiped it with the back of her hand. She did not want to be here, alone, on a dangerous outpost filled with criminals. There was always a risk when she landed at a new location, but this was what her mother would have called the fallen angel’s playground.
She forced her feet to move. One step. Drag a foot. Two steps. Drag a foot. Three…
Raisa stumbled. Kod and Dak hadn’t bothered to make a run for it after leaving her for dead. She found them in the docking lot, standing near the bag that contained her molecular gastro-spectrometer. She would have guessed them to be brothers. They had the same look to them—not just the shape of their green faces and oval bald heads, but the way they carried themselves. Each had a way of opening their mouths ever so slightly at the corner after finishing a sentence. This had been her first encounter with their kind, and she didn’t know what manner of aliens they were.
Anger filled her, temporarily erasing the pain as she focused on that bag. She wasn’t about to let them keep it. Raisa backed away until she was just out of sight and crossed the narrow walkway to the next row of docked ships. She ducked beneath them, limping from one metal protrusion to another. As she neared the brothers, she leaned down onto all fours and crept forward. The bag was in sight.
Raisa crawled forward. The pain in her leg couldn’t be ignored each time she put pressure on her knee. The belly of a ship came too low and she had to stretch onto her stomach. All she had to do was slither forward on the floor and grab the bag while they were deep in conversation. She reached her hand forward and dug her toes into the ground to inch closer.
Almost…almost…almost…almo—got it!
Raisa hooked her finger on a strap and began to pull.
The sound of the bag sliding against concrete caught the brothers’ attention, and they both turned to look at her. Disbelief registered on their faces. Dak made an awful sound, a cross between a scream and a growl.
Raisa held the bag tight and tried to thrust herself back. But with the weight of the bag, her awkward position beneath the ship, and her beaten body, it was difficult to move.
As Dak’s fist came barreling down toward her head, someone grabbed hold of her ankle and pulled.
She cried out in surprise as she slid out of Dak’s reach. The bag skidded with her. She passed beneath a pair of spread legs. A man placed himself between her and the attackers. From what she saw from her place on the floor, he had long dark blond hair and broad shoulders. The skin on the back of his arm looked to be human.
Kod and Dak ran around the side of the ship. She knew first hand that they had fists like lead hammers. Dak punched and the man artfully leaned to the side.
The blow missed its mark, darting past the man’s head. Before Dak could pull his arm back, the man grabbed his wrist and flung his arm to the side.
Dak spun under the force of the push, and his fist made contact with his brother’s nose. Kod screamed in pain as he fell back before covering his bloodied face.
Raisa pushed up from the ground as Dak charged the man. She gave a small cry of exertion as she swung the bag along the floor at Dak’s feet. The molecular gastro-spectrometer hit the man’s ankles.
Dak lost his footing, flung to the side, and hit his head on a ship. The loud thud reverberated around them. He collapsed on the floor.
Amidst the strange screeching cry of Kod, she tried to pull her bag closer. Her muscles trembled. She couldn’t force herself to stand.
“Come with me,” her rescuer ordered.
Raisa looked up at him.
“On your feet,” he said, the tone both commanding and urgent as he glanced around.
She tried. She really did. Adrenaline and self-preservation could only take a body so far, and she had hit her limit.
He grunted, and she wasn’t sure if he was annoyed or disappointed as he leaned over. She held up her hand, thinking he meant to pull her to her feet. Instead, he grabbed her wrist and used it to propel her over his shoulder. He held her steady with one hand and grabbed her bag with the other. The press of a muscular shoulder to her stomach was far from pleasant as he jogged across the docking lot to another row of ships.
By this point, she had no protests left in her. Raisa hung limp, fighting to hold on to her conscious mind before finally giving in to the pain. Her vision dimmed as she watched the backs of his legs.
3
What in the star blazes had he done?
Jackson knew leaving the ship was a bad idea. The Federation guys would be out looking for him. He needed to stay off their radar. Instead, he’d followed a crazed woman around the docking lot and brawled with Dokka traders. The fight had attracted attention, and he had no choice but to grab the woman and run. He carried her past his ship across the lot, circled around, and then slipped back when no one was looking.
By the time he lowered the steps and carried her inside the dimly lit hatch, he realized she’d passed out. He set her bag in the passageway and carried her to the captain’s quarters. Lochlann would have to forgive him for laying a dirty lady on his bed, but he needed the built-in ship medical units to take a look at her. With power diverted, the medical booth wouldn’t be operating at full capacity, if at all.
“Computer, activate personal medic,” Jackson ordered.
“Yes, Grumpy Warrior,” the computer answered in a neutral tone.
Jackson grimaced. Viktor was up to his old tricks. The man liked to randomly program the computer response systems when he was bored. Before this, he’d been “The Amazing Space Cadet,” which wasn’t exactly a compliment since “space cadet” basically meant “newbie idiot.” Before that, it had been “Comet Kisser.” Wait, no—“Lord Not-Gettin’-Lady-Action.”
A light buzz indicated that the medic was working. A mechanical arm lowered from an opening in the ceiling. The unit could normally be accessed from anywhere in the ship, but the current power supply made this room the most likely to work. Plus, it had a comfortable bed, which seemed better for a woman than the crewman quarters he had.
The room had manacles hanging over the back of the bed and a cage constructed in the middle of the floor. He didn’t like to think of what might have gone on here before the ship had found its way to them. Ships were too expensive and hard to come by, so they couldn’t exactly be picky. Why else would there be a personal medic that went to every room? It would have been costly to install the extra resources needed to run the unit. Normally ships only needed a medical booth.
The arm went to him first and flashed a light at him.
“Computer, scan subject on the bed.”
“Yes, Grumpy Warrior.”
Jackson had seen people come in from outside the complex, but rarely were they as grimy as the woman on the bed. She was filthy, covered in a layer of dirt. When she’d passed by the security feed, he’d watched her more out of boredom than concern.
He tried to see past the layer caked on her skin. There was something appealing about her face that caused him to stare. Her hair was dark and fell to her shoulders. His gaze passed over the slope of her nose to parted lips. He had seen much beauty in his travels, enough to know that there was not one definition of perfection. Beauty was fleeting, and he had never put much stock in it. When he’d gone out on military ops, he’d seen some of the most physically beautiful people do some truly horrible things. And he had met creatures that some people thought were too hard to look at who had the gentlest hearts.
What kind of creature was this woman he’d saved? She’d clearly been up to no good as she sneaked in to steal from the traders. So why had he risked the Federation finding him for a thief?
Jackson laughed at himself. That was like the black hole calling deep space dark, or the space pirate calling a thief an outlaw. He was hardly innocent in the ways of petty crime.
He watched the mechanical arm move so lasers could scan the motionless woman. The light danced over her face and neck before skimming over a dusty long-sleeve shirt. The material was dark and clung to her skin. A pair of turquoise overalls covered her chest and legs. The color wasn’t exactly stealthy. He wasn’t sure what she’d been thinking when she’d tried to steal the bag.
“Report,” the computer voice droned. “Medic shows three fractured ribs, bruising along the torso, foreign obstructions in the lungs, scraped skin, dehydration, extreme sun exposure, and twenty-three minor cuts. Would you like to proceed with treatment, Grumpy Warrior?”
“Yes.” Jackson frowned. He knew she hadn’t been banged up that badly in the fight. Had his run around the docking lot caused fractured bones and bruises? Being gentle hadn’t been his main concern at the time, but he hadn’t tossed her around that hard.
The mechanical arm lowered itself beside her face and a long needle extended to pierce her neck. The succession of light hissing sounds indicated that medicine was being pushed through as it injected her with multiple substances. He trusted the unit to do its job, so he didn’t bother to ask what the computer was giving her. The needle retracted.
“Medical booth required for further treatment of internal injuries. Please restore power and proceed to the booth at once, Grumpy Warrior.”
“Computer, is she in pain?” Jackson asked.
“Analysis of nervous system indicates she is, Grumpy Warrior.”
“Can you help that?” he inquired.
“Yes, Grumpy Warrior.”
“Do it,” he ordered.
“Yes, Grumpy Warrior.” The arm realigned itself on the opposite side of her neck and pierced her skin a second time to inject her.
“And kill Viktor while you’re at it for making you annoying,” Jackson grumbled.
“I’m sorry but murdering registered crew members is not in my protocol,” the computer said, and Jackson moved his lips to mimic her. This wasn’t the first time he’d made the request. “Your request is being reported to the ship captain for possible disciplinary action. Please stand by, Grumpy Warrior.”
The woman moaned and stirred on the bed. Her eyes opened briefly. They were a deep brown with large green flecks. She blinked once and then closed her eyes. He watched but she didn’t move again.
“Jack!” The sound of footsteps punctuated Captain Lochlann’s cry. Out of all the crewmen, Jackson had sailed the high skies with Lochlann the longest.
Jackson hurried out of the room to see what was happening. The lights flickered, and he felt the vibration signifying that the engine tried to start. “I’m here.”
Lochlann slid to a stop by his door, not even seeming to register that Jackson had been in his room. The captain looked like a human, but in his search, his eyes had shifted to a bright yellow, giving away the fact he was a dragonshifter. The ye
llow was a sure sign he’d been using his enhanced senses. “Those Federation guys you beat up have called for reinforcements. They’re sending more men to try to apprehend you. Viktor found a part that should get us up and running. We won’t be the fastest ship, but if we leave now we should be able to get you out of here before they arrive.”
“What about the supplies? The medical booth’s cartridges need to be restocked, and we need to be able to do more than limp along in the deep black.” Jackson would die before he went back, but that didn’t mean he’d let this crew—his family—fly into an uncertain sky.
“We’ll figure it out,” Lochlann said. “I need you to go to the cargo hold with Dev to unload the heavy equipment. Rick and Lucien found buyers. Cover your face before you go. Do your best to stay out of sight.”
“If we have a major accident, there won’t be enough medicine to cover the—”
“That’s an order,” Lochlann said, cutting him off. “I heard your protest, Jackson, but I don’t give a flying saucer. A threat to you is a threat to us. We’ll figure the rest out from the sky. Go help Dev. Hurry.”
Jackson didn’t answer but hurried toward the cargo hold. Every little bit of weight they dropped helped. Dev already had a pile started near the hatch of supposed items to be sold. He’d also pushed a large crate as far as he could, which was only a few feet from the wall.
“Loch sent me to help.”
“I need that cargo we scavenged on Sintaz,” Dev said.
“The lab equipment?” Jackson began looking around for a crate.
“No, the snow suits,” Dev said.
“Really, the suits?” Jackson asked in surprise. “We use those.”
“Not anymore,” Dev said. “No cold landings for us for a while. It’s either snow suits or a working secondary generator.”
His Earth Maiden AE Page 2
