“Three of the five found happiness. I consider that a success. Lochlann, Dev, and Evan were the most deserving out of all of us.” Jackson found it hard to feel sorry for the pilot. It was Rick’s fault they had been cursed to begin with.
“Don’t you think you deserve happiness?” Alexis placed a hand on his arm, and he leaned away from her touch.
Jackson tried to activate the door scanner to the captain’s quarters without jostling the woman he carried. Alexis ran her hand over it for him. He hadn’t bothered to ask permission to put their new guest in the room. He already knew what Alexis’ answer would be. Everyone on the crew has a soft spot for an underdog, and what was a battered woman if not in need of their help? They both watched the door inch up slower than normal. He paused briefly before quickly ducking under it, in case the metal slab decided to drop shut again.
“I think she must have been outside,” Alexis said. “She’s the color of Torgan dirt.”
Jackson nodded. He’d thought as much too. “The computer said dehydration, extreme sun exposure, and foreign obstructions in the lungs. I think she breathed in the dust.”
“You were right to bring her on board,” Alexis said. “I can think of no good reason why a woman would be in the Torgan outdoor markets with sand in her lungs, a beat-up body, and without adequate water.”
Jackson laid the woman on the bed, still dusty from the last time he’d put her there. “Do your database thing.”
Alexis took a deep breath and began to mumble to herself as she searched for answers. It was almost as if her other senses shut down when she searched. Her eyes became glazed and distant. Her voice took on a droning quality. “Human anatomy. Skeletal System. Rib cage provides protection to the heart and lungs. Irrelevant to the situation. Reexamine.”
Lochlann had explained that her mind worked like a giant database of linked computers, in which she had to follow the pathways until she reached the right information.
“Federation Military guide to field medicine during the Ven wars. Winged creatures. Irrelevant to the situation. Reexamine. Federation Military guide to pre-medic care. Blaster injuries. Crash landings. Fire injury. Protrusions. Fractures. Relevant to the situation. Spiral fracture. Impacted fracture. Transverse fracture. Epiphyseal fracture. Closed fracture. Complete fracture. Broken ribs can move inside the body and puncture organs. Compression can alleviate pain. Compression may cause other problems. Relevant to the situation. Recommended treatment is to use a medical booth. If no medical booth is available—”
“Yes, that one,” Jackson interrupted, his words insistent. “Relevant. Relevant.”
Alexis’ eyes darted to him and her words stuttered as if he made her lose her place. “Re-relevant to situation.”
She stopped talking.
“Well?” Jackson asked, ready to help the woman on the bed. “How do we fix it?”
“We can’t.” Alexis frowned. “All we can do is hope they’re not complete factures and keep her still until we can get to a medical booth. They have to heal on their own. She’ll have to stay here for now. I don’t want to move her again. If it hurts when she coughs or speaks, she can apply a little pressure to the area, but not much. And let her have whatever is left of the pain medicine. When it’s out, we’re going to have to resort to liquor.” She walked to the door. “I’ll let Lochlann know we’ve been kicked out of our room. We’ll take yours. You get the rec room.”
“Wait, what about her?” Jackson asked. “Shouldn’t you stay and…” He gestured helplessly at the woman.
“Do I look like a nursemaid?” Alexis chuckled. “You found her, you take care of her. I have a ship to fix.”
“What’s a nursemaid?” Jackson frowned.
“You are.” Alexis winked before hurrying under the door. “Take care of your patient.”
6
Raisa felt as if someone watched her before she even opened her eyes. She stayed in self-imposed darkness, not moving as she listened to the room around her. She thought she heard breathing, but it was more of an awareness than an actual sound. Her body was numb, and she felt an intense heat where she was trying to heal herself.
Finally, she opened her eyes. Green eyes stared back at her from about three inches above her face. She gasped as she tried to push away, back into the mattress.
“You’re alive.” The man sat back on the bed. Their bodies didn’t touch, and he made no other movements as he stared at her.
She glanced at the room several times to get a sense of where she was without taking her eyes off him for too long. By the metal walls and scanners, it was clear she was on a ship in a luxury suite. The manacles she’d seen behind her earlier where disconcerting, as was the cage. A door led to what looked to be decontaminator shower. The room seemed to turn a corner and she couldn’t see the rest.
She didn’t know what to say as she tried to reason what was going on. She recognized him from the docking lot and remembered waking up on his ship. He had a handsome face, strong features. Stubble darkened a sculpted jaw, framing firm lips that neither smiled nor frowned. Even with clothes on, she could see the definition of muscles beneath the black shirt. His dark blond hair was long, pulled back behind his neck. She wondered if the hairstyle was a little rebellious, as he had fought like he was trained elite military.
Fight.
Her bag!
She tried to push up on the bed and look around. “My molecular gastro-spectrometer. Where is it? I need it.”
He furrowed his brow as he placed a hand on her shoulder to stop her from getting up. The restraint didn’t seem to take much effort on his part. He eased her back on the bed, his dark gaze full of warning that she was not to try moving again. “Your ribs are fractured. You must not move around until they’re more fully healed or until we find you a working medical booth.”
“I need my molecular gastro-spectrometer,” she insisted.
“I don’t know what that is.” He again stopped her from getting off the bed. He glanced at the manacles, as if considering them, but in the end, he simply rested his hand on her shoulder. When she stopped wiggling, he lifted it, extended his fingers and hovered his hand over her for a few moments, as if to make sure she was done trying to leave.
Raisa closed her eyes in frustration. “My bag. Those spaceholes on the dock stole it and tried to bury me in the Torgan wasteland. I need it back. Everything I have is tied to that device.”
“It sounds very important.”
“It is,” she assured him. “Please, tell me you have it.”
“I have it,” he obliged.
Raisa breathed easier. “Oh, thank goodness. I don’t know what I would have done if I had lost it.”
“Are you in pain?” he asked.
Raisa reached her hand to where heat focused in her torso. “It’s getting better.”
“I’m sorry I ran with you over my shoulder. I should have realized you were delicate and would break easily. You must have passed out from the pain.” He hung his head and his eyes moved down.
“It’s fine.” She dismissed his concern. “They must have fractured my ribs when they kicked me after going back on our deal for parts. You had nothing to do with it.”
“The Dokka traders kicked you?
“So, can I have it?” she insisted.
“Have what?”
“My molecular gastro-spectrometer.” Raisa wanted to see if those two pieces of liger dung had broken anything else on it. Then, realizing that she didn’t know this man and he might try to steal it for himself, she added, “It’s not valuable or anything. I need it for work.”
“It is safe in the cargo hold.” The overhead lights blinked, causing him to pause. “We’re having a little bit of an issue with our lights.” A tremor worked a wave across the ship, shaking the bed. “And the power grid. But don’t worry, we’re perfectly safe, just limping a little.”
“Space,” she said in realization. Her mind seemed to clear with each passing second, as the injection they ga
ve her lost effectiveness. “We’re in deep space, aren’t we?” She didn’t wait for his answer as she began to panic. Her eyes went to the manacles over the bed. “Where are you taking me? Where are we? What is this place?”
“This is a ship. We are in space, as you said, and we’re currently on course for a fueling dock, where we hope to trade for parts to fix our nonessential support systems.”
“Oh my stars, you’re a cyborg,” she blurted as she realized what she was dealing with. That made sense—his blank expression, the fact he had more muscles than almost every human man she’d ever seen, his fighting skills, his matter-of-fact answers, the unyielding way he carried himself as if on alert.
She reached for his face but was unable to touch it from where she lay on the bed, so she touched his chest instead. Warmth spread over her fingers, and she detected a heart beating beneath her palm. She also felt the mechanics inside him, they spoke to her Angelion side, small tickles letting her know they were there and functioning.
He looked down to where her hand rested on him and didn’t move.
She pressed her fingers gently against his shirt. She rubbed the flesh and hard muscles beneath, sliding her fingers over the definition of his chest and ribs. “I didn’t know they made you this advanced. I couldn’t even tell.”
He cleared his throat. “I’m not a cyborg.”
“But…?” She met his eyes—and realized she’d made a mistake. There may be some mechanics in him, but not enough to make him a hybrid born in a laboratory. He was all male. She snatched her hand away but her fingers tingled as his warmth stayed with her. “Whoa, that injection must have been strong. My head is—”
“The injections are most likely diluted. I’m sorry to say our medical supplies are running low,” he stated.
“Couldn’t just let me have that one, could you?” she quipped with a small laugh.
“No, I did order the medic to give you a full dose, but it must have flushed it with saline to get it through the lines to administer. I want you to have it for your pain, but we’re not sure how much is left in the cartridge and—”
“I meant you couldn’t let me have the excuse for feeling you up just now,” she broke in. “Are you always this serious?”
“No, well, ah…” He sighed. “Yes. Probably.”
“Save your pain medication since you’re on ration. I’ll be fine in a few days,” she said. “And in case I didn’t say it, thank you for your assistance on the docking lot.”
“You could have internal injuries. The computer detected fractures and…” His words trailed off as she reached for her shoulder to unfasten the turquoise overall strap. His eyes watched her fingers move.
“Here, help me pull this down.” She flipped the front flap of the overalls off her chest and tried to push the material down so she could reach the hem of her shirt. It caught on her hips. When he continued to stare, she added, “Please.”
He suddenly stood and backed away. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression. No one on this ship expects payment in the form of,” he hesitated, “relations.”
“Glad to hear it, as I wasn’t offering sex.” She managed to unfasten the lock button on her side and reach beneath the material to pull her shirt up to examine the damage done to her stomach. A light blue healing bruise had formed on her skin where they’d struck her.
“What is that?” the man asked. “I have never seen a bruise quite that color of blue.” He rushed to the door, slapping his hand against the scanner in his haste to get it open. “Alexis!” he yelled before the metal had even slid up fully.
“It’s fine,” Raisa said, pushing up from the bed now that he wasn’t right beside her to force her to lay down. She kicked the coveralls off her legs and stood in the skin-tight cloth pants she always wore underneath. She took the opportunity to stretch her arms over her head. She winced at the pain it caused and instantly regretted the action. “It’s what happens when my body is healing itself.”
“You need to lay down,” the man insisted. “You can do light pressure, but not too much.”
She looked at the bed. She could practically see the outline of her body in the dirt she’d left behind. She studied her dirty hands and frowned as she remembered clawing her way out of a grave. “Uh, actually, it looks like I need a bath.”
Raisa wobbled on her feet as the reality of what she’d been through hit her. She’d been dragged out to the barren wasteland and left for dead. It was thanks to the sheer laziness of her attackers that she managed to crawl out of the shallow hole. She could have died. And for what? A part to fix her molecular gastro-spectrometer?
“Bravon’s fire, woman,” he swore under his breath as he rushed to catch her. She had regained her footing so the rescue wasn’t necessary. That didn’t stop him from holding her. “Are you always this hardheaded?”
“No,” she automatically answered. “Well, actually, yeah, I probably am.”
Her body pressed into his as he held her lightly against him. The heat from his body seeped into her skin and she found herself wanting to press closer. It had been a long time since she’d been alone with a man, intimately like this. Well, truth be told, she’d never been alone with a man who looked like him. Part of her wanted to lift up on her toes and kiss him, just once to see what it would be like.
“You might as well call me Raisa,” she said, “after all we’re in deep space together.”
She wanted to hear him say her name. He didn’t.
“Raisa Lovell,” she said, not knowing why she felt the need to say it.
“I am Jackson,” he stated.
“Jackson? Just Jackson? No surname?”
“Burke.”
She looked at his chest. He still held her by her arms as if supporting her from falling. She thought about dropping her knees so he’d have to lift her into his arms and carry her to the bed.
This fantasy was getting out of control.
As if realizing he held her longer than he needed to, he let her go. He kept his hands lifted as he pulled them back, testing to see if she could stay upright on her own.
“You’re welcome to try the decontaminator,” he motioned to a smaller door in the wall where the unit would be. “But I can’t promise it will work properly.”
“What about a food simulator? If you have one of those, I can use it to make myself a liquid bath. Then all I’ll need is a piece of material to wipe with.” Raisa had been in some primitive situations in her quest to find recipes, and it wouldn’t be the first time she’d bathed out of a bowl. She had the Pha’n flower water recipe memorized. Technically, it was a watery soup, but it was fragrant and better than smelling like dirt and sweat.
“Of course, you must be hungry as well.” He went toward the door that remained open. “Do you feel like you can walk?”
“The concern is appreciated, but I assure you, I’ll be fine in a few days.” She gingerly moved to follow him, taking smaller steps. Pride wouldn’t let her turn back around and fall into the bed.
7
Jackson didn’t know what to make of the woman, Raisa. It was clear she was in pain, as she limped down the metal corridor. The artificial lights flickered on the walls, some going out for several seconds before flashing back on. The ship was in bad shape.
Raisa placed her hand on the wall and closed her eyes. She took several deep breaths.
“Are you well? Do you need me to take you back?” Jackson moved as if to lift her into his arms but held back. Touching the woman had done something to his senses last time, something he didn’t want to explore. He wasn’t such a cad as to rescue a woman and then expect romance in return. She owed him nothing. “I should take you back to bed. You need rest.”
“Your ship isn’t doing so well,” she said, rubbing her hand on the wall. “The nerves are weak.”
“Nerves?” he questioned.
Raisa opened her eyes and looked at him. “Sorry, I meant wires. I tend to think of mechanics as living objects. The engine is
the heart, the power lines the nerves, liquid tubes are like the veins.”
“Computer system would be the brain,” he deduced.
Raisa smiled and nodded. “Yeah, exactly. VR the imagination. And…” She let her words trail off with a soft laugh. “I sound delusional.”
“No more so than our pilot. He keeps calling the ship his girl and stroking it every time we’re docked.” Though, comparing her to Rick might not exactly be a compliment.
Raisa pressed her cheek to the metal wall. “What’s her name?”
“Bound Virgin,” Jackson stated.
Raisa pulled away and arched a brow as she eyed him.
“I didn’t name it,” he defended. “It came with the ship.”
“No one ever thought about changing it?” Raisa resumed her slow walk down the hall. “You know they have forms you can fill out for that.”
“We have better things to spend our money on than new registration papers.” Jackson didn’t bother to state the other reasons. It’s not like they told everyone they were pirates sailing the high skies, and a review from the ship registration office would have them poking around into ship logs, which were as fake as a pleasure droid’s boobs—to paraphrase Rick.
“We?” Raisa glanced around. “How many are on board?”
As if to answer her, the sound of laughter came from the dining cabin. Jackson led her toward the others.
“The married guys are ruining it for everyone,” Rick’s voice drifted out. “We can’t do anything fun. Viktor, back me up here. You know I just installed that extra-large viewing screen in my quarters. I haven’t had a chance to use it.”
“Rick, watching your transmission waves is not a vital life support system,” Viktor stated, sounding distracted. He and his brother Lucien were half human, half Dere, which accounted for the unusual red-green and red-brown of their eyes. Lucien kept communications running and Viktor worked as the ship’s mechanic. Since the two argued all the time, Jackson was glad only one brother was in the dining hall.
His Earth Maiden AE Page 4
