Baxer murmured. “Do not fear. I will continue to be your protector until we reach my planet. These men were instructed to follow my orders and leave you in my care.”
“Are you delusional or merely suicidal?” Angling her head, Susa looked him up and down and then glanced at the huge Dornians, getting ever closer, with their all-but-impenetrable outer skin and enough weapons to kill every man on the docks twice over.
“My uncle—” Baxer began.
“Bak your uncle,” Susa choked out, her breathing choppy. “The Dornians aren’t afraid of your uncle or any hominid male. To them, we’re all prey and gulls. Those mercenaries began plotting to betray your uncle as soon as they heard what he wanted them to steal. As a Prime woman, I’m worth more in certain circles at auction than any payment your uncle promised. They probably laughed at his threats even as they planned to keep his deposit and sell me.”
Of course, they’d only sell her after they’d raped her a few dozen times. Death would be preferable.
Nausea flooded her throat. Her heart beat fast and hard. Hyperventilating, she grew light-headed.
Breathe, Susa. Breathe.
Baxer’s lips had thinned, but he said nothing. He merely glared.
Her point had hit home, though. For one nano-second, she’d read his emotions clearly—he was scared of the Dornians. Hope briefly filled her that he might save her … save them both.
But Baxer must really be terrified of his uncle since he continued to drag her to meet the men who’d most likely become Baxer’s worst nightmare.
“You are so dead,” Susa muttered. “You just took on the Galactic Alliance Gold Squadron and the Caradoc family. So, if the Dornians don’t kill you, you’d better hide, little man.”
“The Galactic Alliance and the Prime will not find you. You will disappear from this space dock and never be seen again.” Baxer’s face appeared smug, but underneath it all, he still read as afraid.
Not that Baxer’s fear did her any good other than make her feel better for a split-second. Her knees threatened to give way as the space around her whirled and grew dark. She stumbled.
Baxer gripped her arm even harder. “Walk, or I’ll toss you over my shoulder.”
Susa took a deep breath, then another. She’d be rescued—she had to believe that or go crazy.
Finally, Baxer stopped. The Dornians also stopped, less than a meter away. Towering over her and Baxer, they had to be almost seven-feet-tall. They smelled like rotting vegetation and fetid water. She forced herself to breathe through her mouth and managed only shallow, panting gasps past the constriction in her throat.
The tallest of the trio held out a hand, his long, bony fingers topped with long, black nails. The sight of his claws thrust her back into the nightmare of the Antareans shredding her mother into pieces.
Susa choked back a cry, then swallowed hard, forcing down the burning bile. She fought the memories threatening to take her over once again. She couldn’t afford to lose touch with reality or appear weak in front of the Dornians. To do either was to be totally at their mercy.
The Dornian wiggled his fingers, the claws making a clacking sound as they brushed against each other. “I am Sleko. Come. If you cry for help, we will kill men helping you. Understand?” He spoke in his language, all clicks, hisses, and whistles. The automatic translator he wore gave his words a hollow, soulless sound.
Sick to her stomach and still mired partially in the past, she ignored his hand.
Sleko dropped his arm, his brow furrowed with displeasure. “I will enjoy taming you, karote.”
Whore.
A surge of anger gave her strength. Focus. She was really sick of that word, but she wasn’t stupid or suicidal enough to attack when she had no chance of succeeding. Instead, she stiffened her spine and returned his look with as much calm and control as she could muster and prayed he couldn’t see her knees shaking.
Sleko glared at Baxer. “You bring her. We are leaving now.” He turned and marched back the way he’d just come. His companions moved alongside and slightly behind her and Baxer and herded them along.
Bak. She hated it when she was right. In that one flanking move by the mercenaries, Baxer had also become a prisoner.
“We need to hurry, Sleko.” Baxer, the fool, still thought he was in charge. He’d soon learn differently. Maybe he’d live long enough for her to tell him she told him so. “Vanni won’t be held up in the office for much longer.”
Baxer kept a bruising grip on her upper arm as they followed Sleko. The other two Dornians hissed menacingly and pointed their weapons at anyone who moved or maintained eye contact for more than a second.
The Dornian threats of violence worked. As Baxer and Sleko had predicted, no one lifted a finger to help her. Yet, she couldn’t blame them. The dock workers and freighter crews were not soldiers and wouldn’t fight the hard-to-take-down and even harder-to-kill pseudo-reptilians for a mere woman.
Only a few men read as ashamed. There was one fleeting scared but determined set of emotions, young and almost feminine in nature, that vowed to find a way to help.
Or maybe Susa had imagined it.
All she could hope for was that the few penitent males would reveal what had happened to Vanni, who in turn, would call in the Alliance and the Prime.
And then there was Damon Martin—he’d be here soon. But he wasn’t a Prime warrior or an Alliance officer, merely a jump station co-owner who’d been raised, according to Bria, by pacifists on a farming planet in the Gliese solar system. At least, he’d do what he could to light a fire under the Alliance to mount a rescue.
As for her ability to help herself, she was screwed. No matter what physical training Nadia had given her, there was no chance she could overpower her captors. All she could do was stay alive until someone came for her.
Susa prayed she’d be rescued before the Dornians put their full plan into play. Because there was one thing of which she was certain—the Dornians weren’t taking her to Umbraxi Auric. However big Goldai was in his little part of the galaxy, he was now merely another pathetic victim of a Dornian shell game.
Chapter 5
Solar System P85 orbiting space dock
Damon jogged down the ramp of the freighter he’d ridden from Jump Station Charybdis. By his calculations, Susa’s freighter should’ve arrived at the P85 space dock shortly before his. Captain Vanni was expecting him and would hold his freighter until Damon boarded.
After decontamination, he strode onto the small dock. His attention was captured by a commotion three ramps down. He spotted the familiar figure of Vanni in the midst of a crowd of shouting men.
“What the fuck?” he muttered. He dropped his bag at the base of the ramp.
His instincts on high alert, he headed for Vanni. Whatever had the captain so angry and frustrated had to be bad news; it took a lot to upset an Obam male.
As he neared the commotion, he caught the words “Dornians,” “woman,” and “sex slavers.” His gut knotted—something had happened to Susa.
Damon shoved his way toward Vanni whose back was to him.
“Vanni,” he clapped his hand on the tall, gangly Obam’s shoulder, “where the fuck is Susa?”
Vanni turned, instant recognition shown in his eyes. He grabbed Damon’s arms and shook him. “Fucking Dornians take missy away. I be telling Commander Dobrek he needs do something right quick.”
“When was she taken?” Damon snarled.
“The Dornian ship left space dock a half standard hour ago.” The speaker stepped to Vanni’s side. The man wore a uniform with a P85 solar system logo. “I’m Dana Dobrek. Commander was my rank when I served in the Alliance Military. Now, I’m the general manager for this space dock. And you are?”
“Damon Martin, co-owner of Jump Station Charybdis. Susa Anghard is my partner’s cousin. I came here to act as her escort her to my station. What happened?”
Dobrek grimaced. “Vanni told me one of his new crew members by the name of Baxer turn
ed Ms. Anghard over to the Dornians and then left with them.”
Before Damon could ask Vanni who the fuck Baxer was, a soft, high, childish voice cut through the low rumbling of the freighter crews and dock workers who stood around Damon and the others unashamedly taking in the crisis. “They are going to the Umbraxi system. I heard the bad man telling the lady.”
Damon looked for the source of the voice. As he did so, all he could think was Umbraxi. Fuck, that makes sense. Wulf had informed Borac there’d been two incidents on Tooh 2 involving Susa. One had been the ruler of the Umbraxi solar system who’d solicited sex from Susa, and the second had been the slimy Dornians stalking her.
Damon didn’t believe in coincidences. The Umbraxi ruler must’ve hired the Dornians to kidnap Susa.
“Cilla! Where are you?” Dobrek had a concerned, but resigned tone in his voice that Damon recognized as parental. He’d been the target of such a tone many times while growing up.
“Here.” The shaky reply came from a nearby boarding ramp. A small girl with wild, blond ringlets, maybe eight or nine years old, crawled out from under the boarding ramp and stood. Her face was dirty as were the knees of her lightly colored jumpsuit. She bit her lip, her focus on Dobrek, and wiped dusty hands on her already filthy clothing. Her slight body vibrated like a transport entering heavy space. Even Damon’s mild empathic abilities read her emotions as frightened. He didn’t want to add to her fears, but she seemed to be the only witness willing to tell them what happened to Susa.
“Come here, Cilla,” Dobrek called. “Are you okay?”
The girl ran to her father who hugged her to his side. “I’m fine, Papa.” Her voice shook almost as much as her body.
“Baby girl, you aren’t supposed to be on the docks.” Dobrek scolded as he gently finger-combed her curls into some semblance of order. The interaction between father and child reminded him of how his parents reacted when he or his brothers had been caught doing something forbidden—scolding leavened by love. “Your mama will have both our hides.”
“Sorry, Papa.” She rubbed her dirty cheek against her father’s leg. “I was playing hide-and-seek.”
“We’ll talk about the rules later, sweetie.” Dobrek stroked the top of her head. “This man is Damon Martin and his friend is the lady who was taken. Can you tell him what you saw and heard?”
She nodded. Her solemn blue gaze fixed on Damon.
Damon kneeled in front of Cilla. He ratcheted back on his anger at the situation and need for action. The child was scared enough. “What happened, little one? Start from the beginning. Anything you saw or heard could be important.”
“Okay.” Cilla scrunched her forehead. “The pretty lady was walking on the docks with the Baxer person Papa told you about. When the lizard people headed toward them, the Baxer man pulled a laser pistol and then dragged the lady toward them. She didn’t want to go—I could tell. I wanted to help, but … they had guns.”
“You did the right thing, Cilla.” Damon gave the child an encouraging smile. The little girl shyly returned the smile. “Did you overhear anything else we might use to find Susa?—that’s the pretty lady’s name.”
Cilla nodded, her curls bouncing around her face. “The Baxer man said he was related to the Umbraxi man who wants your lady.”
Susa wasn’t his lady, but she was definitely his responsibility. Damon needed to get her back, and soon, or she’d disappear into the harem of the tin-pot dictator on an isolated planet in a far-flung solar system.
“The biggest lizard person called himself Sleko,” Cilla said. “The lizard people are supposed to take her to Umbraxi Auric. The lady … um, Susa was very brave. She told the Baxer man the lizard people would kill him and then take her”—she sniffled, tears dripping down her face—“to a slave auction. I’m sorry my papa couldn’t stop the men from taking Susa. I hope you get her back soon.”
Damon bet Susa was more right about where she’d end up than the turncoat Baxer.
“Thank you, Cilla.” Damon swiped the tears and some dirt from her face with his thumbs. “You’ve been a big help and are a very brave girl.”
The young girl straightened to her full height, which put the top of her head at about the level of her father’s waist, and pointed at the crowd surrounding them. “None of these men helped her.” Her tone was accusatory. “That’s not right.”
“You’re correct, Cilla. It wasn’t right. You have more honor than any of them.” He stood and focused on Dobrek. “Have you notified the Alliance?”
Dobrek hugged his daughter closer. “As soon as I heard. Vanni also notified Wulf Caradoc. Since this isn’t Gold Squadron’s sector, the Alliance is sending a starship from the Red Squadron.”
Cilla tugged on her papa’s uniform. “They’ll take too long, Papa. Susa was very brave, but she was scared of the lizard people. Everyone knows lizard people are cruel.”
“Out of the mouths of babes,” muttered Damon. He cast a steely glance over the bystanders who hadn’t lifted a finger to help Susa.
Many of these men were the type who frequented his jump station’s many entertainment and food venues—tough dock workers used to minding their own business, flight crews accustomed to the often harsh conditions of ferrying freight around the galaxy, and the odd smattering of traveling hucksters, petty criminals, and an occasional RimPz pirate.
While angry at their lack of honor, Damon wasn’t as shocked as Cilla that not one man had aided Susa. But he did know what might elicit assistance from them in his pursuit of her abductors.
“I’m Damon Martin,” he shouted. “Some of you may know me, and for those who don’t, I am the co-owner of Jump Station Charybdis.” A rumbling of acknowledgment swept over the group of men surrounding them. “The kidnapped woman is Susa Anghard, a resident of Cejuru Prime, and the cousin of my business partner. I need to hire a ship, one with weaponry and a good long-distance radar. I will pay well.”
The noise level in the cavernous dock area swelled as Damon’s offer was discussed, but no one came forward.
Damon wasn’t above twisting arms and making threats. There were several men present who had the type of ship he needed and whom he knew had Alliance warrants out against them.
Blackmail was ugly, but Damon was no angel and had done worse things than extortion in his thirty-eight standard years. Long ago, he’d left behind the pacifist teachings of his parents and had kicked asses and raised hell all over the galaxy for years prior to going into business with Borac.
As Damon examined the crowd to see which men would be the easiest to intimidate, little Cilla once again rode to the rescue. “Papa, aren’t you going to help him? What if the lizard people had taken me or Mama? You’d do something, right?”
Dobrek stroked his daughter’s curls. “I was going to offer before Mr. Martin addressed the crowd.” He turned to Damon. “I have a ship at my disposal. It’s a small, long-range fighter equipped with everything we’ll need.”
Damon raised a brow in surprise. “A fighter?”
Dobrek nodded. “P85’s governing body purchased a decommissioned fighter craft from the Alliance when I left my military service and came here. I upgraded it and use it to apprehend anyone who violates the space dock rules. Sometimes I go after ships with outstanding Alliance apprehend-and-hold warrants against them. This is a situation calling for an apprehension if there ever was one. My second can take over for me here. If nothing else, we can locate and shadow the Dornian ship until Red Squadron can take over.”
“Shadowing might be difficult,” Damon said. “While I’m sure your security cameras have images of the ship, I can guarantee the Dornians used false identity codes to dock. They’ll have several false identity codes which they can change on the fly.”
“Yes, but”—Dobrek grinned—“the Dornian ship left without getting space dock control permission. They broke the docking clamps and did quite a bit of damage. When they left illegally, the space dock’s automated security bots attached multiple trackers t
o their hull. The signals from the trackers are broadcasting and are strong. We can follow them wherever they go within the Milky Way. The Alliance has already put out an apprehend-and-hold alert to all space docks and jump stations to watch for our tracker signals.”
What Dobrek hadn’t said was “to all legitimate space docks and stations.” There were quite a number of docks and stations operated by criminal elements. But the alert was better than nothing.
“That’s an unusual security measure for a small solar system space dock,” Damon said. He and Borac had similar security systems in place, but Jump Station Charybdis’s docks were twenty times larger than the P85 dock and had the extra income to invest in the expensive system. “But I’m happy you have it.”
“I’m an engineer. I helped design the system for the military.” Dobrek smiled. “It was easy for me to install it here. Get your things and meet me in the docking office. I need to speak to my second and get us small arms from the armory.”
“Will do.” Damon turned to go when a small hand touched his arm. “Yes, Cilla?”
The little girl’s blue eyes were filled with tears. “I hope Susa is okay.”
Damon caught a tear that trailed down her cheek. “I hope so, too. Now, be good for your mama while your papa is helping me, okay?” The girl nodded and went with her father as Damon ran back to the ramp where he’d dropped his gear. He was damn glad he’d thought to pack extra weapons.
Two standard hours after the kidnapping, the Dornian ship
Susa was imprisoned in relative comfort in a small, uncluttered cabin. The bed seemed to be clean and so was the private bathroom.
However, the walls were closing in on her. She paced and attempted to figure if there was a way she could get herself out of the mess. As she paced, she counted. There were twenty steps from the door to the neatly made bed to the left of the door and thirty paces from the door straight-ahead to the entrance of the small bathroom.
Her conclusion? The room was small, and she was more claustrophobic than she’d realized. As for her situation, it was dire. Her stomach churned, and she couldn’t catch a full breath.
Prime Target Page 6
