Korven's Fire: Dragon Prince of Wye

by Nancey Cummings

  A warm pink blush spread across her cheeks. “Now I know you’re full of shit.”

  “Come to the ship. We do need a mechanic. I can’t see any reason it shouldn’t be you.”

  Adelle

  I can’t see any reason it shouldn’t be you.

  What a load of malarkey. Adelle should have laughed in the oddly attractive alien male’s face at his job “offer”. There was no job. No mechanic’s job, at least. Still, there was something about Korven’s face that made her want to trust him and believe that he wasn’t luring her into a trap to be a sex slave. Maybe it was his verdant green reptilian eyes with the vertical slit. Or the too-broad nose. Or the light dusting of green scales over his skin. She wanted to stroke his cheek and explore the texture, let his strong arms wrap around her and hold her tight.

  Or maybe she’d gone too long without male companionship and she was turned on by the first guy to speak decently to her.

  She circled back to those eyes. She could wax about lush, verdant green fields but she grew up on an orbiter near Earth. She never experienced fresh air or the sun, much less a field, verdant or not. His eyes were hungry. That male was starving and eyeing her like she was the tastiest meal in town.

  He looked like a Gyer with the scales, minus the four arms. But he was definitely male and Gyers, as far as she understood, didn’t have gender the way humans did. So maybe not an alien from Gye. Wasn’t there a sister planet? Wye? Korven was something new. Unknown. It pricked her curiosity.

  Or it could be the hunchback. Adelle didn’t notice it while he stood next to her, but when he walked away, she spied the misshapen form of his shoulders. His physique was otherwise tall and athletic, trim with well defined muscles. She enjoyed watching his ass. The hunch was the only flaw and made the rest of him all the more perfect.

  He might have been hungry but she wouldn't mind a nibble on that ass.

  She wanted to trust him. Nothing about Korven seemed false or over eager, as if selling something too good to be true. Just a job on a ship with dodgy cargo. Wasn’t that exactly what she wanted? Her instincts told her to trust him; that the job was legit, but her instincts also let her trust her uncle’s crew, the crew that vanished with her uncle’s ship and her inheritance.

  Still, the job was better than mining a hunk of asteroid for three years and, thus, worth checking out.

  Chapter Three

  Adelle

  The captain folded his arms over his chest. White tufts of hair escaped the ears perched on the top of the Talmar male’s head. His tail swished lazily from side to side. His feline eyes narrowed at her. “I don’t have a use for a mechanic without a certification.”

  “Certification? Or experience?” Adelle squared her shoulders, ready to fight for her right to be on his crew. “My uncle ran cargo on a Skylark, which rightfully should have been scrapped twenty years ago. I grew up on that ship. Learned how to walk on it. I didn’t have toys, I had wrenches. There wasn’t a part or system that I haven’t replaced or rebuilt. Twice. Some days it felt like the force of my will was the only thing keeping that antique in the air. So you want to talk about experience? I have more practical, hands-on-experience than anyone walking out of a trade school with a certificate.”

  “You comparing my beauty to a piece of scrap like a Skylark?” His tail swished again.

  The ship, the Firestar, was not what Adelle expected. She expected, reasonably, to find an average or worn cargo trader. Something serviceable but not fancy. Traders and cargo did not require fast or fancy. In short, she expected the same long-in-the-tooth rust bucket she grew up on, the same identical ship docked in every station in the system.

  What she found was a sleek, top-of-the-line luxury yacht. She’d never actually been inside a ship like it but she knew the type of specs to expect. The actual mechanics were an afterthought. Over engineered, the ship could run itself without a mechanic for years. The engine would be fast, faster than necessary because rich people liked to brag about unnecessary speed. Not much cargo space but a lot of room for private cabins and entertaining. Real wood interior, no synthetic materials. Observation decks and portholes in every room for the best view. Full service kitchens, for entertaining. A yacht like this was made to entertain.

  “I’m saying,” Adelle started, choosing her words carefully, “that I could make a piece of scrap fly. Imagine what I could do with something that you can still order parts for.”

  A grin spread across the captain’s face slowly. “Tell you what, I got a cleaner bot that can’t climb a wall without falling and busting its case. You fix that and we’ll talk.”

  He waved her over to a box sitting just off the loading ramp. Seemed he had word a prospective employee was coming round. Or he was going to toss out the malfunctioning bot. Adelle settled down to the ground and took out her omni tool.

  “You let my crew know if you need something,” the captain said.

  Adelle nodded, already removing the outer casing. The first thing she did was clean the sensor. The majority of cleaner bot malfunctions were due to dirty sensors. People didn’t realize they had to maintain these appliances. They worked so flawlessly in the background of daily life that people started to believe them everlasting. This bot’s sensors looked like it had never been cleaned in its lifetime. Poor thing.

  She then removed the plate over the traction apparatus. Again, never cleaned. Blind and full of gunk. No wonder the bot couldn’t climb walls like it should.

  Two males clambered down the ramp, sporting reptilian eyes and the same faint scale pattern on the sides of their faces where a human would have sideburns. Each wore a well tailored suit of dark grey fabric, costing more credits that she could earn in a year. A small badge in gold, right where a human heart would be, glinted under the station’s lighting. A dragon coiled around something angular. Adelle could not make out the fine details.

  Another pair of Wyers. Security by the look of them. Adelle had barely even heard of the planet but now she’d seen three inhabitants. One of the males spoke to the captain. The other crouched down where she was and inspected her work but said nothing. After a few minutes, he brushed invisible dust off his thighs and stood.

  Adelle kept her head down and continued to work. The casing had not cracked, which was lucky considering how many falls the bot had surely taken.

  Another Wyer came down the ramp. While the previous males had nothing in common with Korven other than being from the same planet, this male bore a resemblance. Same height, same build and same color but just more. Korven was attractive, Adelle found, but this male was gorgeous. Like gorgeous according to any species standards of beauty: strong jaw, chiseled cheekbones and flawless hair. Even the rich green scale pattern running down the side of his head and neck was better looking.

  Adelle knew she stared. The gorgeous male paused to speak with the captain. As he walked away, he gave her a wink.

  Blushing furiously, Adelle tucked her head down and focused on putting the little bot back together.

  She cleaned the sensors while new firmware downloaded. She reconfigured the bot’s height parameters. No more climbing too high and falling. The bot would recognize its limits now.

  While she worked, more people streamed by. Two humans, older, bickering with each other in the manner of a long married couple. They paid her no mind. Another human woman, younger with hair dyed in streaky rainbow colors, introduced herself.

  “Widget,” the rainbow haired woman said, shoving out a hand. “I’m the pilot.”

  “Adelle. Mechanic. Hopefully.”

  They shook hands, and then Widget surprised her by going for a hug.

  “If the captain’s letting us get a gander at you, relax. You got the job,” she whispered. With a wink, she bounced off.

  Pilots. Nutters, the lot of them.

  “How’s my bot coming along?” the captain asked.

  “All done, sir.” Adelle snapped the case back into place and powered up the little machine.

 
The captain took the bot and placed it back in the box.

  “You’re not going to test it?”

  “You looked like you knew what you were doing.”

  True, but still. Adelle narrowed her eyes, suspicion churning. He’d been waiting outside the ship for her, the bot needing repair conveniently placed in a box, also outside the ship. “I don’t like a setup,” she said, knowing her next words were going to lose the job and she’d be on a mining ship at the end of the day. “I don’t know what lark you're playing but I don’t need this job that bad.”

  The male laughed; good natured mirth on his feline face. “Korven called and told me to expect you. Not everything is a shadowy conspiracy, kitten.”

  Adele bristled under the pet name but she knew from experience that the Talmar called everyone kitten. Endearments came to them as naturally as breathing.

  “Let me give you the tour,” he said, retreating to the ship.

  Korven

  “Cousin,” Prince Ragnar called in a jovial voice, slumping into the pilot’s seat next to his.

  “What is it, Your Highness? Can’t you see I’m plotting our course for your pleasure cruise?” Korven spun his seat to face his royal cousin. Navigating the Firestar was not overly complex but he liked to keep the ship to busy travel lanes to avoid pirates and other troubles. His cousin, the prince, did not understand how huge and empty space was, or how easy it was for a ship to become lost.

  “She’s very pretty, isn’t she?”

  The warning growl came without a second thought.

  Ragnar laughed and punched him in the shoulder. “How burns the Fever?”

  “I’ll manage.”

  The prince’s face grew serious. “We return to Wye the moment you give the order.”

  “And if I won’t?”

  “Then we return the moment I decide the Fever burns too hot and you are no longer in your correct mind. Don’t let the pretty Terran tempt you.”

  “I’ll manage,” Korven said through gritted teeth, turning his attention back to the navigation panel.

  Chapter Four

  Adelle

  “What do you know of Wye, kitten?”

  The interior of the Firestar was just as luxurious as the outside promised. Real wood lined the halls, not synthetic materials. The tour had thus far been brief stops to the most glamorous rooms on the ship: music room, sitting room, state room, dining room, and observation room. Who had a room just for music? Each room was ornate and richly appointed. Each wall could be retracted to make a larger space for entertaining. Apparently the prince liked to entertain. The Firestar had accommodations for twelve guests, not including the prince’s own suite. All of that was impressive but it was not what Adelle needed to know about the ship.

  “Isolationist planet. Not in the IU,” she said.

  Providence nodded. “Then you should know our prince wants to modernize his home world and ultimately bring Wye into the Interstellar Union.”

  “That’s… ambitious.” She couldn’t think of anything to say. She had no head for political intrigue.

  They took a servant stairwell down a level. The corridor, while still constructed of rich materials, was less over-the-top gilded decadence.

  “It is. Generations ago, before some queen decided there was nothing worthwhile in the rest of universe, the planet was advanced with a fine military fleet. Not that Wye is primitive now, but technologically they are operating with old fashioned equipment. The spaceport is a joke. Tiny. Totally incapable of servicing all the cargo ships that would arrive if Wye opened its doors.”

  They passed practical rooms: the helm, medical, staff dining room, and rec room. It was good but she wanted to take a look at the guts of the ship. Heady aromas filled the galley kitchen and the captain introduced the cook, Mr. Wardarms. His wife was the housekeeper. They were the squabbling human couple from earlier. That was the sign of true wealth; actual staff for housekeeping, not an army of bots but Adelle saw a few automatons rolls past.

  “So it’s Wye’s capacity that needs to be modernized?” Adelle asked, bringing the conversation back around.

  Providence tossed up his hand in a gesture of not knowing. “Wye needs to rebuild its fleet. It needs a modern spaceport. Prince Ragnar has been touring the system for research.”

  “This does not seem like a research vessel.”

  A grin flashed across the captain’s face, revealing just the slimmest hint of a fang. “He is a prince. Can’t cart him around in an old junker.” He paused outside a cabin door. “This will be your cabin.” He pressed a few buttons on the control panel. “Let the panel scan your retina. The door will only open for you.”

  She did so, a flash of light taking an image of her eye, and the door slid open.

  The interior of the cabin was luxurious compared to the bunk she’d had in her uncle’s relic. Narrow, the bed was built in at the far end of the room and settee built into the wall. Opposite the settee hung an entertainment screen. Another door led to the cleansing room. Storage was built into the walls and drawers opened from under the bed and the settee. Efficient but comfortable, the space was a far cry from the stark crew quarters on most ships. She’d do quite well here.

  “It’s a bit fancier than I’m used to, sir.”

  “Save all your pretty words until I show you the good stuff.”

  Her brows shot up. The nicest crew quarter she’d ever seen and a ship that pampered at every turn wasn’t the good stuff?

  Down another level. Now they were in the guts of the yacht: the hold, where a ramp connected the yacht to the station. The tour started at the top, using the very gangway the guests of the prince would take. The cargo hold entrance was for staff. The captain waved vaguely at the armory and headed to the engine room. No credits or energy were spent making the functional level of the ship pretty but the quality construction shone through. This was a ship fit for a prince, right down to the metal grating in the cargo hold.

  She made a bee-line straight for the engine room, the captain chuckling after her.

  It. Was. Marvelous.

  A huge workbench and shelves stocked with equipment, and supplies lined the three walls of the workshop area. The engine dominated the center of the space, pulsing a serene blue, and the engine itself…

  Adelle sucked in a breath. “Is that—”

  “Yes.”

  “I never thought I’d see one in real life.” She approached the screw drive with reverence. Bleeding edge, the engine punched through space, traveling faster than any engine before. It was also highly experimental and controlled by the military. “Good thing I’m smart enough not to ask where you got it,” she said.

  “That’s why I’m offering you the job and not some snot nosed kid straight out of school. You have practical experience and know enough to kept your mouth shut.”

  “Or think too hard about where we pick up cargo?”

  He frowned. “Can you keep it running until we get to Wye?”

  “Sure.” New machines were designed to go without maintenance for extended periods of time. Worry free travel was the selling point. How Prince Ragnar got proprietary equipment from the IU military… She was smart enough not to ask. Why he needed the engine, she knew. Prince Ragnar planned to rebuild the Wye military, with stolen IU technology. Yup, she was smart enough to keep her mouth shut. “The drive was retro fitted into the ship?”

  “The Firestar was built with the drive in mind. We sailed her away from the shipyards on her maiden voyage and went straight to a chop shop that did the work.”

  “That’s a lot of mouths knowing the Prince’s secret.”

  “I have a stringent screening process.”

  “And you think I’m going to keep the Prince’s secret?”

  Providence raised a brow, tail swishing lazily. “I think a gal like you is lucky to get any job, much less be within spitting distance of equipment like this. You’d never been able to get your grubby Terran paws on a screw drive. Once in a lifetime opportu
nity and all that.”

  Adelle said nothing. He had her number.

  “We’re a crew of eight if you’ll join us.”

  “Wages? Or is this a kidnapping?”

  “Everyone on the prince’s crew is here because they wish to be so. No one is a slave or indentured servant. But everyone on the crew knows the value of discretion. Start gossiping and we’ll leave you behind like the last mechanic who couldn’t keep his mouth shut.”

  Adelle looked around the engine room and the workshop. She’d never have a chance to serve on a finer ship. Who cares if they were sitting on a stolen, top-secret engine and if the IU found out they’d be blasted from the stars? There was no reward without a little risk.

  Or she could be on a freighter headed to the asteroid belt to mine ice...

  “How long of a contract are we talking?”

  “We serve at the Prince’s pleasure. Current plan is to meander back to Wye in three months. Once there, we’ll renegotiate. How soon can you be ready to ship out?”

  “I have a few things to pack. Two hours, tops.” All her worldly possessions were in a duffle bag in a storage locker off the main concourse of Galax One. The captain didn’t need to know she was too broke to rent a room.

  “We’ll depart when you return. Be fast about it. The crew dines together before the Prince’s evening meal if he is entertaining. If he is not hosting the social elite and what not, he dines with us. Morning and mid day meals are on a buffet. Get there early otherwise you’ll have to make do with the cold scraps. Do not bother Mr. Wardarms. It’s his job to feed the prince, not you.” More rules followed as they walked down the ramp from the cargo hold. She was to address the prince as his highness or sir. No exceptions.

  Tour over, Adelle dashed off to retrieve her duffle bag. Her luck was finally turning around.