Raven's Sphere

by Melissa Koberlein

  “Thank you for your cautions. I promise I will not be long. I only came for some hydroponics and food.”

  “Wait, don’t you mean we? Who’s this with you? Speak up, young one.” Dillandra eyes Emery, whose head is still bowed.

  “This is my cousin, Rogan,” I interject before Emery has the chance to screw this up. “He’s helping me tend to the hydroponics. You know Cadmar has the most superior hydroponics in the galaxy. Besides they really spruce up a ship.”

  “Rogan.” Dillandra nods slowly, the wheels in her bird-like head turning. “Huh, I didn’t think you had any other family besides Teagan left.”

  I smile sweetly while my insides twist and turn at the mention of my family. I swallow, stuffing the memories back down. Time to play the Zetians are inferior to Cadmarians card. Most Zetians have large families because soldiers were needed to participate in the war against Cadmar. Plus, Cadmarians have limitations on how many children are allowed to be born so they don’t overpopulate their beautiful planet. “You know how Zetians are, we lift a stone and find a relative. I just recently found out.”

  Dillandra chuckles. “Yes, that’s true. I sometimes forget that you’re Zetian. You have such a beautiful jaw line and sleek body.” She reaches for my chin, her talons scratching at my skin as she turns my head from side to side, examining. Her touch turns my stomach, but I hold my breath instead. “It reminds me of Cadmarian stock, not Zetian.”

  Great, now I’m cattle. I smile graciously. “You’re too kind. But I assure you, Rogan and I are Zetian.”

  “Yes, yes, of course,” Dillandra says, waving us away. “Well, I meant what I said, no funny business. I just remodeled after a skirmish from a month ago. They completely took out the private dining room and my beautiful chandelier.” Her crinkly emerald eyes bore into mine. “Don’t worry though. The offenders paid me back with their lives.”

  Got the message. No hanky-panky. Even though I do love a good fight with some punk who underestimates me. But this is no time for battle-vanity.

  “I promise we will be complete angels. Thank you for your hospitality.” I walk past her inside and assess the joint.

  Multiple dining areas on the first floor surround a circular bar at the center. Flashy service droids move about the restaurant serving patrons food and drink. On a raised platform above the bar is a stage with dancers, male and female, showing off their talents and wares. Two women wearing skin suits, suits that appear to be skin but blur breasts and the area between their legs, and one man, wearing black shorts with straps connecting the front to the back over his shoulders.

  Emery’s mouth forms a large O as he stares up at them, transfixed. I wave my hand up and down in front of him to no avail. Okay. The kid was sheltered.

  “It’s normal. They’re paid to dance for patrons, and it’s honest work.” Feeling oddly playful, I add, “If you really want to know, the most scandalous person in this room is holding your hand right now.”

  Emery finally looks up at me, his eyes widening even more. I raise my eyebrows, smiling wickedly.

  He stills but then relaxes, a brief smile crossing his face. “Oh, you’re joking.”

  Not really.

  Okay, time to head to the bar. I spy some cargo runners and guards who fly back and forth between the freighters and Cadmar on the far side. They might be gossiping about what happened on Mythos. Hopefully the guards I took out on my last visit to Fornax aren’t among them. Some military guys with their backs to us might have been involved in the attack. Tilting my head, I see some alien types to the far right, some of which I’m not too familiar with. Non-human species tend to keep to themselves when they’re outnumbered on human planets just as humans do on theirs.

  Tough choice. I decide on the cargo runners. Leading Emery over to the opposite side of the bar, I grab a stool next to one of the men. He smells like greasy gears—a technician. The scent reminds me of home, like Zetian cologne. Emery follows suit, sitting on the stool on my other side. The bartender is a tall, round, balding man with an abundance of hair sprouting from his chest and arms. It’s odd, considering how vain most Cadmarians are. He could have fresh, natural hair on his head for less than a thousand credits.

  He approaches us. “What will it be?”

  “Menu access please, and two vanilla teas,” I say, slipping my credit card in the slot in front of me, a scanner running retina. My dismal balance appears on a small screen above the slot, and I cringe. The urge to steal is palpable—I glance around, assessing potential targets.

  Emery nudges me and, as if he could read my mind, shakes his head.

  Fine. Stay focused.

  “You got it,” the bartender replies politely, turning on two monitors underneath the clear bar. Our menus illuminate as Emery’s eyes light up in wonder. He touches the screen, realizing he can flip through the menu with a flick of his fingertips.

  I lean over and whisper, “Stay under a hundred credits, please, and stop staring at everything like you’ve never seen it before.”

  Emery nods, leaning over the menu. I glance down at mine. I’m famished, but my nerves tell me not to overindulge. The bartender comes back with our drinks, and I order some food.

  The cargo runner on my right turns toward me. His set jaw turns up with a smile as he looks me up and down, licking his lips. My stomach roils, threatening to revolt.

  “Hey, babe. Shouldn’t you be up there?” He points to the stage above us.

  “Well, you certainly shouldn’t be.”

  “Bitch,” he replies, turning away.

  I smile and laugh heartily. I reach for his shoulder, turning him back toward me. “I’m kidding. Can’t you take a joke?”

  His affronted ego is still firmly in place. I stroke his forearm, and he slowly comes back around, returning my smile.

  Sucker.

  “So what do you do then?” he asks, glancing at my unnaturally blue hair.

  “I work in acquisitions. You?”

  “I’m a technician for a Cadmarian cargo runner.”

  I lean in closer, our respective body heat mingling. “Interesting. Say, I heard there was an attack on a Cadmarian warship somewhere over Aquarius. What’s the scoop?”

  The runner scratches at his stubbly chin. “Oh yeah, we were just talking about that. Apparently, based on the recorder, the warship lowered their shields to extract someone or something from a private ship. Before they knew it, the private ship fired on them, leaving no survivors. The military has offered a bounty for any information on the ship and its passengers.”

  I nod, proud. What can I say? I’m a good shot. “Really? Huh. I wonder what the military was after…”

  The runner puts his grubby index finger up to his lips and glances around. “Well, I’m not supposed to talk about this because I have a deal with my buddies here to split the bounty, but two weeks ago there was a man with silver eyes and hair in here sitting by himself getting drunk. He was raving about being kicked off his home planet.” He leans closer to my ear, and since I need some key intel, I force my body to acquiesce instead of rebel. His breath itches unpleasantly at my earlobe. “Well, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that he was from Mythos. I mean, no one knows much about the planet, except that clerics and recluses live there and the atmosphere causes their eyes and hair to turn silver. Can’t be a hundred percent sure since I’ve never seen someone from Mythos in the flesh, but it’s a good bet.

  “Anyway, this other guy came into the bar and sat down next to him. He didn’t look too happy either. I guess misery loves company and all that. Personally, I’m a happy drinker.” He leans back, grinning, trying to steer the conversation back to himself.

  I growl inwardly, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. Come on, buddy, get to the point. “I’m sure you are. Now, what does this have to do with the warship?”

  “Anyway, I didn’t give the incident a second thought until this was posted after the attack.” He pulls up a picture on his screen in the bar.

  S
tarfire in an asteroid field! It’s Emery. Or at least, Emery not in a disguise. Underneath the picture it reads, 1,000,000 CREDITS FOR THE DELIVERY OF THIS BOY TO CADMARIAN MILITARY.

  This isn’t good. Not good at all. I knew Emery needed a disguise, but I had no idea how much. A million credits? That could set a person up for a long time. I glance sideways at Emery, immersed in playing a game on his touch screen. Such an easy score…

  Knock it off. You’re not turning him in. I purse my lips in resolve and refocus on the doofus to my right.

  “So here’s the thing,” he continues. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that two Mythosians should turn up within a few weeks’ time without there being a connection. I mean, they never leave their planet, right? I think this boy was on the private ship, and the Cadmarian government must want him for something important.” The cargo runner inches closer. “I might even be willing to ditch my buddies if you want to join up with me to find this little punk. What do you say?”

  His breath smells like garlic and alcohol. I smile innocently. I’ve got all the information I can get from this one. “Thanks, but I’m not really an action kind of girl. I just like the gossip.”

  “Oh, well, listen, I can do all the tough stuff. You could just come along for the ride and keep me company.” He puts his hand in my lap, and he’s not messing around—he’s going right past my thigh to my crotch.

  A burst of adrenaline tears through my body like stars in hyperspace. I’m going to enjoy this. I open my legs so his hand falls in between my thighs. His eyes bulge with excitement, as his fingers search eagerly for entrance into my pants.

  I glance up at him under veiled lashes and whisper in his ear, “You shouldn’t have done that.”

  Crunch. I break his hand in between the two titanium plates sewn into the fabric on my inner thighs. Before a scream can leave his lips, I tranq him, and his head hits the bar with a thud. His buddies and the bartender look at us questioningly.

  I smile, patting him on the back. “I guess he can’t handle his drink.”

  The other cargo runners laugh and return to their conversations.

  I lay his broken hand in his lap and turn to Emery. “Okay, here’s the deal. I need to buddy up to the soldiers over there. But you can’t be with me to do that.” I glance over at an empty table just beyond the soldiers. “Go sit at that table behind them. They won’t notice you there. Whatever happens, whatever you see me doing, don’t interfere. Do you understand? Do not interfere.”

  Emery opens his mouth to say something but promptly closes it. Good. I’m not fucking around anymore. He bobs his head.

  I motion toward the table, and he does as I’ve asked. I look back to the bartender, pull my credit card, and gesture that I’m moving down by the soldiers.

  He nods back.

  I slide off my stool. I’ve got to play this right, or I’ll get nothing from them. I unzip my battle suit from my neck to waist, allowing the fabric to hug my skin, exposing just the inner curve of my breasts. I sway my hips as I walk purposefully toward them.

  Now, which one? There are three soldiers. Two of them seem engrossed with a third. Their body language gives away their submissive nature. They admire him.

  The storyteller—that’s the one I want.

  The soldiers look up, noticing my approach, and their jaws slacken. The one on the right mouths wow to the others.

  I drape my arm around the soldier on the left, running my fingers through his golden hair. “Want to spend some time with me?”

  “What are you drinking, lovely?” He places his arm around my waist.

  I raise my eyebrows and purse my lips. “I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

  He waves the bartender over and orders. I rarely drink alcohol. It dulls the senses. But occasionally it has its advantages. Anyway, he isn’t terrible looking. This might be fun.

  “So what’s your name?” he asks.

  “I barely know you.” I swat his chest with the back of my hand. “Tell you what, tell me something fascinating, and I’ll consider it.” I follow it up with my best pouty face.

  The soldier stares at my eyes as if somehow recognizing me, but the thought passes. “Well, let’s see…” Then, as if a stroke of genius erupts in his no doubt idiotic brain, “Are you aware that the Cadmarian army is the largest in the galaxy?”

  Seriously? That’s what you got? “Everyone knows that. You must know something more interesting.” I run my fingers up and down the center of my chest seductively. “I like gossip.”

  The soldier purses his lips, studying me.

  Before he can change his mind, I lean over and whisper in his ear, “Oh come on, you can tell me. Good stories make me so hot.” I blow lightly against his ear for good measure.

  By the time I look back into his eyes, he’s spilling the goods, “Well, then you’re in luck. I was just on an important mission for the Cadmarian royalty. I went to Mythos.” He pauses dramatically as if the sheer thought of a Cadmarian on Mythos is unimaginable. If he only knew who was sitting at the table behind him.

  “Mythos? That is interesting. I’ve heard that anyone who resides on the planet for any length of time has silver irises and hair. How long were you there?”

  The soldier runs his hand up and down my back, sending an icy chill down my spine, making me queasy. “Oh, don’t worry about me, lovely. I was only there for one day.”

  I’m not consoled. In fact, I wish this asshole would die a thousand deaths, a thousand times over. He no doubt took part in killing all those defenseless people. More importantly, he’s one of the reasons Emery is in danger.

  I stifle the rage and smile instead. “Thank goodness you’re all right.”

  He continues his onslaught to my back but moves his hand further south. He murmurs into my ear, “Little lady, you’ve nothing to worry about. I’m in perfect working order. Besides, Mythos is pretty much off the map now. We have one more distasteful suspect to take care of, and then no one will speak of Mythos ever again.”

  My hand turns into a fist as I bite down on my lip to control my anger. His reference to Emery as a “distasteful suspect” to get rid of is almost enough to drive me over the edge and put him on his ass. But not yet. I need some more information first.

  I swallow the taste of blood and ask, “So are you saying that there are no more residents on Mythos? The people, they’re gone?”

  The soldier considers my question as if wondering if I have the capacity to understand the gravity of genocide. “Honey, it’s not like it’s a race worth missing. They were concealing something, a weapon that could kill us all. We had to take action against them.” He leans back and crosses his arms. “You should be thanking me. They might have killed women first.”

  I cover my mouth and fight the bile rising in the back of my throat. A small part of me had been holding out hope that some of Emery’s people had survived and he could go back to them.

  And worse, the Cadmarians know about the sphere.

  I want to put my hands around this disgusting, poor excuse for a human being’s throat and squeeze. He killed a peaceful race, and some of the Mythosians were clerics, for fuck’s sake. Religious people. Now there’s only one left!

  “I can’t believe they’re all gone,” I say through clenched teeth.

  The soldier smiles and shrugs. “Well, all of them save one. But don’t worry, we’ll find him.” He leans toward me and twirls a lock of my hair. “Your hair is the color of sapphires. It would look brilliant in my lap. What do you say?”

  Enough. Time to go. I got what I came for and the last thing I want is to endanger Emery. Besides, the cargo runner whose hand I broke is coming around.

  “Well, I do love a good story, but that was so depressing. I’m not in the mood anymore.” I turn to walk away.

  “You’re not going anywhere. At least not until we’ve had some fun.” He stands and yanks my upper arm, pulling me against his chest. His gaze is bursting with desire and violence.


  Oh, no you didn’t. Looks like I’m giving him the latter.

  “Then you’re in luck.” Using my artificial hand, I grab his crotch and squeeze, not too hard, just enough to make him gasp. “But before we get to the fun stuff, I should introduce myself. My name is Raven Nevar. Maybe you’ve heard of me.”

  His eyes widen as the full impact of my revelation registers. He reaches for his weapon, but he’s too late. I squash the two tiny orbs in my hand like grapes. He screams while I pull out my pistol and zap him in the gut. The big boy falls to the floor like slag in a Zetian factory.

  I move toward the other two soldiers. But before I can do anything, I’m being grabbed from behind, and someone pins my arms behind my back. He smells like the bartender.

  Using a bar stool, I kick up and launch myself over the head of my assailant, landing on my feet behind him. I shoot one of my tranquilizer darts, hitting him in the back of the neck. He grasps the dart and pulls it free. But he’s too late—he drops to the floor in a heap.

  “Who’s next?” My eyes dart wildly, ready for my next attacker.

  The cargo runners descend from the other side of the bar. I ready myself in a low crouch, but it’s no use. They converge and tackle me to the ground. Each one grabs a limb, two of them holding down my artificial arm. One punches me in the mouth, and my head lolls to the side. I’m pretty good at taking a hit, but this guy is even better at punching.

  I spit blood on the floor and look back into the runner’s eyes. “You punch like a girl.”

  The runner’s mouth curls up in a sneer. Then he’s laughing. “A girl, huh?” He unbuckles his belt. “Let’s see if what I do next feels like a girl.”

  Yeah, that’s where I thought he might go. He’s in for a treat—my battle suit, including my underarmor, is electrified. I switched it on before we came inside. If he rips or tears any part of the suit, pulses of electricity will shoot through his body. I tested the suit, but the underarmor is a new addition. I’ve only ever seen digital demos from Mad-Armor. I admit, I’m curious.