by Imogene Nix
Her wrists stung, and when she looked down she saw that they were raw and red, and blood was trickling down her sleeve. But right then she had no time to do anything except try to get out. She moved forward clumsily, seeing a brighter light ahead.
Bang! She accidently hit one of the pipes with her palm, wincing as yet another shaft of pain echoed through her body. She pulled her hand to her mouth, attempting to stifle the sound of her cry as she slipped behind a large pipe. Her chest bellowed in fear but no one came to investigate the noise.
Chowd will be looking for you. Worrying. Don’t be a baby. Go find him, then you can fall apart. The words offered her a little bit of encouragement as she moved forward again, this time more slowly, taking note of her surroundings. She reached the lighted corridor, the brightness stinging her sore eyes.
Up and down she gazed, but no one was in sight. Meredith had slipped around the corner, making her way along the gray corridor, when she heard shuffling footsteps. Her heart rate sped up again, and she frantically searched for somewhere to hide. There! A small alcove. She slipped in and got as low as she could.
Meredith turned. A drawn, gray face loomed above her. Fetid breath assaulted her as rough hands grabbed her.
“Nooooo!” She twisted and turned away as the hands grabbed her hair and yanked.
“You are mine. I found you.” He slurred the basic words. “You belong to me now.”
“I belong to nobody. Now get your hands off me, you disgusting creature.” Even as she screamed at him, he started to haul her backward.
Her mind scrabbled for a way to save herself, and the pain started again. She arched, swiping at him, grabbing his arm, digging in her fingernails, feeling them tear the flesh beneath. He roared, throwing her roughly against the dingy, gray wall opposite the tiny aperture she had tried hiding in.
Meredith scrambled to her feet and watched as he started his ungainly run toward her, ignoring the latest aches in her body. Aware that she really only had one opportunity to escape and that it had to work, Meredith waited, time slipping slowly as she widened her stance.
He reached her, and she moved, tripping him with a well-aimed leg. The pain splintered through her body, but he fell heavily to the floor. Once she had him down, she aimed a kick directly at his genitals. He curled into a fetal position, retching as his body twitched. A stench filled the air, and her stomach heaved.
The sound of running feet caught her attention. I won’t allow anyone to take me again. Once again she prepared to fight, but a familiar face rounded the corner. Chowd. She stood straight and tall, waiting for him to come toward her.
His face, a mask of anger and misery that showed some relief overlaid with wariness once he saw her. “Meredith? Are you all right?” He stopped several steps away as if waiting cautiously to see her reaction.
“Yeah. I’m a little battered and sore, but in one piece.” The bravado in her system dissipated, replaced with a bone-deep exhaustion. “Chowd? Get me out of here.”
The trembling began, growing stronger and more violent as she waited, and she thanked whatever deity there was when he moved toward her in silence and gathered her into his arms.
* * * *
Chowd muttered and paced. The mothership had taken three days to travel from the rendezvous point to the station where the ambassador would conclude the final talks with the members of the Ru’Edan ruling Senate. Three very long days filled with anger, despair, and hope in alternating bursts.
After retrieving Meredith, who’d effectively saved herself, the captain, Jod Svan’Er, and the senior officers had shown amazing empathy toward both Meredith and Jemma, allowing Meredith to rest in the cabin under the joint guard of Jemma and Raven when Chowd left her.
He knew the offending Ru’Edan would face punishment, more than likely a flogging at the very least. The Ru’Edan usually considered women as chattel, and under normal circumstances there would have been no action taken. In this instance, Meredith, as a member of a crew currently undertaking diplomatic relations with the Ru’Edan, caused a muddying of the waters. They would likely never know exactly what happened to the kidnapper.
Chowd understood that Meredith felt the difficulties of the cloistered environs and sympathized with her, yet against her wishes, he had given the order for Raven to remain on guard with the two women while he and his two men took over the primary security detail of the ambassador. Meredith still jumped at the slightest sound, something he couldn’t blame her for. She tried to reassure him that she felt better, but he could see the shadows in her eyes from time to time.
Right now, the entire crew from the Elector waited on the bridge as they approached the station. Chowd chanced a look at Meredith, the strain still evident around her lips, and he sidled over, letting his fingers brush against hers before tangling. She sent him a thankful look and closed her fingers more tightly around his.
“I never thought we would see this day, let alone be part of the actual ambassadorial detail.” Her quiet words made him smile. Even in this midst of coming to grips with what had nearly happened, she still found wonder and happiness in her work. It humbled him that this wonderful woman had chosen to share herself with him.
“You deserve to be here. The work you have done with the Admiralty meant they would need your skills for this momentous event.”
She wrinkled her nose. They both turned back to view the gaily lit station, growing larger while ships moved around it in a dance, darting here and there. Glancing at her again, he noticed the faint bruising on her skin, and once more he fought down the sensation of fury that scalded him inside.
“So once we get there, what should we expect?” she asked.
For a moment, he didn’t answer. What was there to say? He could only be honest with her. “I don’t know, Meredith. I imagine that we’ll meet the senators, find our apartments, then conduct a meeting with the ambassador.” Since they hadn’t managed a team meeting after Meredith had freed herself from her abductor, this meeting would be way overdue.
“Okay. Are we likely to meet with...the same attitudes again?”
His heart plummeted at the quiet words. Truly, he didn’t know for sure, but he could guess that the patriarchal society wouldn’t have evolved that much, unless the high-class circles demanded it. “I don’t know, but we’ll take steps to ensure it doesn’t happen again. I have also been informed that Jod Svan’Er will remain with us, along with some of his most loyal guards.”
Chowd knew Meredith remained leery of Jod Svan’Er, but in the last few days, he’d personally handpicked guards for the women to augment their stretched security resources.
“Okay. I guess we’ll have to wait until we dock. I packed up all our things, so they are ready for when we transfer.”
“Excellent. Thank you, Meredith.”
He wondered if she would ask what would happen to her assailant. She’d circumvented any discussion regarding the incident, which worried him. She surely needed to know what happened in order to move on. If Elara had been there, he would have sought her advice, but they were thousands of miles away and out of radio contact.
Meredith turned away from him, looking toward the front screen, her fingers still entwined in his as they drew closer to the station. Lights winked and glittered against the inky blackness, the bridge of the ship almost silent. It was easy to lose oneself in the fantasy of the silence of space.
One of the young comm officers who’d exclaimed over the rat stew made his way over. “If you please, the captain asks you to prepare yourself for docking maneuvers.” He indicated to the banks of seats, and with a silent nod he returned to his own perch.
Meredith engaged the safety harness, then Chowd adjusted his own. The feel of the thrusters setting them into the required trajectory and the metallic thuds as the tugs attached safety lines to the mothership before pulling them to their allocated berth captured his attention. The ship bumped against the station, a slight kiss of metal to the dock as voices, muted and unhurried, re
ported the status of the ship. Clamps attached, and finally the captain stood.
“Ambassador, crew? Welcome to the Dors’Mar satellite station. Guardian Svan’Er will see to your transfer. I shall remain here and, once the discussions are concluded, will convey you back to your own ship.” He bowed formally, and the ambassador returned the obeisance.
Jod stood and walked over to them, indicating with a languid hand for them to follow. “I’ve arranged for my security teams to bring your items. We can transfer immediately onto the station. The security service is on standby, ready for you.”
They entered the corridor, making their way down its length toward the back of the ship. About halfway along, they turned to the left and walked a little further. A large metal door separated them from the airlock, and even as they approached, a whizzing sound filled the air as oxygen filtered into the small area. The light above the door glowed a steady red before changing to green. The door clanked and rattled, and Jod turned the wheel, muscles straining beneath his uniform as he worked to open the hatch.
The door opened with a groan, and they stepped through. A wall of gray-and-blue-suited security guards invited them to step through a small arch and proceeded to check them for combustibles. Chowd knew this was standard procedure and waited patiently as they all proceeded through individually.
One guard took Chowd by surprise though. It was scary in some ways and more than a little intimidating to come face to face with a man who looked like his father. Chowd swallowed reflexively and took a step forward.
* * * *
“My Lord? I have important information for you. We believe that the members of the crew of the Elector have rendezvoused with the Ru’Edan and that they are due to meet with the ruling Senate.”
Crick turned his head to look at his second-in-command. “Indeed?” The situation had become precarious of late. Losing the Alpha Star Colony base and many of his rogues had hurt. But if he had to go down, he’d be taking out the Elector and her crew.
“Your...your son is one of the members meeting with them.”
Crick started at the news. “My son and heir? That traitorous bastard!”
Anger welled, white hot and burning. He tried to clench his fist, but his hand refused to cooperate. Lately, the functions of his body didn’t work so well. He knew it was a conspiracy and that the medics had something to do with this.
He waited for his body to calm. His eyes closed. Since removing himself from the medical facility on the shuttle, his second had become somewhat...cautious around him.
“Where are they currently located?” His words slurred, and his fingers scrabbled around on the desk for his Xeradax, but found nothing. His heartbeat sped up. “Where is my Xeradax?”
He turned his head slowly, seeking the small, black pills the medics had created on his orders. The small Ru’Edan male stepped forward, hesitation clear in every step, and the brittle edge of Crick Sur Banden’s temper snapped.
“What are you doing? Get away!”
The male looked at him. “I can see your Xeradax and was going to pass it to you.”
The quiet answer soothed him slightly, for the first time he took a good long look at the male. His eyes glittered when he thought Crick wasn’t looking.
Was the man after his position? Everyone wanted his place. The little voice in his head reminded him of all the times when his second had taken it upon himself to do things without orders. He had allowed the man to act as his go-between with the medics. Was that why he couldn’t control his body? That’s it!
The thought bloomed in his mind as he pushed himself out of the mobility chair he had started using since leaving the medical facility. On the suggestion of this Ru’Edan male! Of course! It all made sense now. Make him seem weak and ineffectual.
Something must have shown on his face, though, as the male backed away. “My Lord?”
The fright in his face filled Crick with satisfaction. I know how to deal with traitors! He slumped back to the chair heavily. He raised his fingers once more, finding the small laser pistol he kept on himself at all times. Under the table, his hands shook as he aimed the pistol then pressed the trigger. The male went down.
“What?” his second cried as Crick pushed himself upward, his body burning with the need for his drugs as he accepted the truth of the betrayal.
“I know you betrayed me. How long have you been going behind my back?”
The man pushed away, scooching on the metallic floor. His shaking fingers covered the hole in his chest, the blood pumping onto the floor. “My Lord! I haven’t—”
“Don’t lie to me! I know you have,” he screamed, shaking with intensity as he watched the eyes of his foe round with shock and horror.
“No! No, My Lord! I have been loyal! I have...” The voice weakened as the horror of what was to come must have finally occurred to the male.
“Silence!” Crick Sur Banden advanced, unsteady but nevertheless determined to finish what he’d begun. Elation roared as he raised the muzzle of the pistol once more. “Traitors deserve only death and dishonor!”
“My Lord! I didn’t—” The whine of the laser split the air and cut off the words in mid-cry. The light faded from the male’s eyes.
Feet pounded somewhere close by, but he only dimly heard them as he turned away, once more seeking his Xeradax with shaking hands. He stuffed them into his mouth then gripped the goblet and raised it. Drips escaped and cascaded down his shirt, but he ignored them.
“Remove the remains of the traitor.” He didn’t turn at the sound of the shuffling feet and dragging. Why should he? He could deal with having one more traitor removed from his immediate location.
“My Lord?” Yet another of his rogues had entered the room.
“What do you want?” His nerves had begun settling as the warmth of the Xeradax filled him with strength.
“We need to know what heading you wish to settle on.”
He turned slowly and saw the evident fear in the rogue’s eyes. “Bring me the charts and our current status of intelligence. Make sure Fu Xander attends me as well.”
Fu had proven himself so far. He was also high-class. Educated enough to make decisions. I can trust him. For now anyway.
Crick made his way back to his desk, sitting down in the padded chair. His gaze settled on the pool of blood on the floor, and he depressed the commbutton on his desk. “Get someone in here to clean up this mess!”
Then he settled in to wait once more.
* * * *
This time their allocated room was much bigger, more comfortably arranged and furnished, Meredith thought, sitting down on the edge of the bed. The bed alone had room for two, unlike the one on the ship they had just disembarked from, and she smiled as wicked and lustful thoughts came to her.
“Hot time on the old space station tonight,” she muttered. The words echoed, and she snickered.
Overall, she found the station more inviting, and the staff appeared more forward thinking, to her mind. Since arriving, she had seen more women gathering around, not holding senior positions, but at least not just dead-end drudges. They looked happier, not downtrodden or cowed, and that heartened her somewhat.
She smiled. “Chowd? Did you see the women in the hallway?”
He grunted absently, and she knew he hadn’t heard her. Meredith looked a little closer before standing and wandering over to him. He stood, looking out of the large, reinforced window into the vast, inky blackness of space. The introspective mask that he had donned many times before when lost in thought met her eyes.
“Chowd? Is something wrong?” His manner had become more distracted since their arrival. Her feet stopped mere inches from him, his eyes devoid of happiness and hope.
“What?”
For the first time she saw something in the depths of his eyes that she would never have expected from him. Fear. What could he possibly have to fear here on the station? Well, obviously except an attack by rogues, but the level of security clearance looked
almost too extreme, so it seemed an unlikely explanation for his distraction. Unless he was hiding something else. The thoughts tumbled wildly through her mind.
“Chowd? What’s wrong?”
“I can’t...” He struggled for words.
A sense of helplessness assailed her. What more could keep us apart now? A silent cry came from the very depths of her soul. He stepped away, and the loss of his body heat chilled her.
“Chowd? I can’t help if you don’t tell me what it is.”
Meredith took one step then another. The look in his eyes left her with a cold, oily sensation deep in the bottom of her stomach. Concern warred with the sure knowledge that she couldn’t do anything until he told her his thoughts.
A split-second decision saw her wrapping her arms around him, feeling him tense before releasing the muscles. The warmth of his body reassured her for an instant.
His arms slid around her in response, and she released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d held, feeling her chest expand once again as the whisper of his exhalation ruffled her hair.
“I could have sworn for a minute that was him. At the gate when we entered.”
She understood immediately. She too had seen the resemblance. It must have hit him much harder than her, and she castigated herself for missing that connection.
Quick on the tail of that realization came another. If they knew he was Crick Sur Banden’s son, then they might threaten him. A primitive emotion flowed through her. Chowd was a good man. Unlike his father, he made a stand, and against all odds became someone the crew could look up to.
“Did he say something to you?” she asked.
The seed of her suspicion grew with his slow response. “What? Oh. No.” But when she moved out of his arms, he evaded her eyes.
“Chowd? What did he say?”
“Nothing. He said nothing. Now let’s just... Let’s just change the subject.”
She wouldn’t let it drop knowing that something had already happened. Something that made him doubt who and what he had become. Yet their relationship had already undergone so many false starts and tests in their short time together that she felt it best to drop the issue for now.
