“Geep?” The little guy sat on the flat pillow where her head had lain. His fur stood on end, all curl gone, as if he’d had an electrical shock. “What’s wrong?”
Images flew across her mind’s eye as Geep fed her what had to be the results of his sneaking around the ship while she’d slept. Sleko and the other two moving about a control room. A space dock. A ship—this ship—docking.
“We’re docking?”
Geep hopped up and down. Susa rubbed his head, combing his fur with her fingers until it reverted to its normal explosion of tightly wound ringlets. “Thanks. I’d rather be awake when Sleko comes for me.” She pulled the blanket around her nakedness. “I also would like to be fully dressed. If we get the chance to escape, I don’t want to go from one bad situation into another.”
Nadia’s lectures about the danger of space docks leapt to mind.
Clothes or not, she still planned to make the attempt for freedom during this stop.
Geep hopped to the floor and using his teeth tugged a pile of clothing toward her.
“You found my clothes.” She sat on the side of the bed, then bent over and picked up the pile. She gave Geep a kiss on the top of his head, eliciting a deep purr. “Thank you. You’re my savior.”
Susa quickly dressed in the tunic and slacks she’d worn at the time she’d been kidnapped. No boots, but maybe she could find them on the way out of the ship … if she and Geep managed to escape.
Positive thinking, Susa. When you and Geep escape.
Retrieving her weapons from under the mattress, she slid the caustic spray and the laser pistol into the tunic’s hidden pockets, but kept the knife at-hand since it was the only weapon she possessed that could potentially take out a pseudo-reptilian. She’d only have one chance to kill Sleko when he came to rape her—and he’d come. He’d been furious when the engine emergency had spoiled his plans.
Shaking off the memory of Sleko’s incendiary rage, Susa looked down at Geep. “Okay, what’s the plan?”
Geep bounced on the bed. “Mrrow? Mrrow?” He blinked.
His response which she interpreted as disgusted disbelief was followed by telepathic visuals of Geep leading with her following as they left the ship and then ran onto the space dock. He then telepathed images of her in hiding as he took down the Dornians one-by-one. The final depicted Sleko and his brothers as dead.
Geep’s view of escape was painted with a broad brush. Some details would be nice, such as how the little guy thought he could kill the practically unkillable pseudo-reptilians.
Susa cut to the chase. “Yes. The plan is to escape. But what I meant was how do we actually escape the ship? We need a plan to get past Sleko.” Without dying.
After which, they’d have to deal with Sleko’s brothers, who, with any luck, would be off the ship doing whatever was needed to fix what Geep broke. Or, more likely, off stealing other transport.
Geep’s response was, ???
While her little partner had proven to be resourceful—and a comfort to her—he was obviously not into details. She’d have to fine tune their escape plan.
“Okay. Here’s the first step to freedom.” She pulled the desk chair next to the door where it wouldn’t be in the direct line of sight for someone entering the cabin. “I’ll sit here. When Sleko approaches, you let me know. I’ll then stand and get ready to kill him.”
It would be a short window of opportunity, so Susa would have to hit his kill-zone the first time. She sat down with knife in-hand and prepared to wait.
Still on the bed, Geep widened his eyes as he stared at her. Purple sparks lit up his gaze as he proceeded to rumble and growl. His emotional aura clearly shouted “what the bak?” and was skeptical in the extreme.
“Yes, I know Sleko will be hard to kill.” She looked Geep in the eyes. “But I’m bigger than you and have the better chance of reaching his kill spot.” She pictured the kill spot between a pseudo-reptilian’s eyes and above his nasal slit so Geep would know what she meant. “With luck, I should be able to take him down.”
Susa had to take Sleko down and should be able to as long as she didn’t faint, throw up, or expire from sheer terror. Stabbing a pseudo-reptilian dummy in the self-defense classes taught by Nadia hadn’t in any way, shape, or form prepared her to take an actual life.
Even now, her hand shook so hard, she almost dropped the knife. Stifling a whimper, she tightened her grip around the small blade—was it too small to do the job?—until her knuckles turned white. It was too late to worry about the size of her knife; it was what it was. Instead, she leaned her head back against the wall, stared at the ceiling, and mentally went over the steps she needed to take, and take instantly, once the door opened and Sleko stepped through.
She could do this. She had to do this.
Blessed One, give me the strength to do this.
Geep left the bed and then hopped onto her lap. His fur standing on end once more, the little guy bristled with strong emotions—a combination of fear, anger, and exasperation.
He made little growling sounds that grated on her last nerve. Just as she was about to tell him to stop, he bombarded her mind with his alterations to her plans for Sleko. The images came so hard and fast that her head exploded with pain.
“Geep.” Her pained cry cut off the mind-storm.
Geep delicately probed her mind and somehow soothed her pain. She gave him a little pet in thanks.
The gist of the blistering telepathic tsunami had been that Susa was to stay out of his way. Since he’d already planned to kill Sleko, his brothers, and anyone else who might threaten her by biting them, she merely needed to stay back and let him. Then he’d get her off the ship and into hiding, and return to the ship to finish killing the others.
The image of the Dornians falling down and dying from Geep’s bite was crystal clear. But it made no sense.
“Geep, Dornians have very thick skin, like armor.” Susa didn’t want to hurt his pride, but he needed to know his defense mechanism might not work on a pseudo-reptile. “Plus, just biting them won’t kill them. They self-heal and can’t bleed to death.”
Susa really wished she had access to a computer database on the galaxy’s flora and fauna, because she needed to know what species Geep was and what he could do.
Geep flashed his teeth at her. He sent her the image of the metal lock he’d taken off the bondage belt. Then he extended several fangs which now dripped a liquid which was thicker and darker, more yellow than the fluid used on the lock. The viscous drops hit the bedding and sizzled, then created a hole all the way through the frame.
“Diew. That’s right. You dissolved metal. But that was a clear fluid, an acidic one. Is this darker fluid both acidic and poisonous?”
Geep grinned and hopped up and down before snuggling on her lap and purring.
Susa smiled. The little guy was a curious mix of feral and cuddly. She stroked his mop of twisted fur ringlets, soothing them both, when a horrible thought struck her. “Pseudo-reptilians have their own poison. They might be immune to yours.”
“Mrrf.” Geep vibrated and sent her a vignette of visuals. Geep along with other creatures just like him sneaking up on a group of pseudo-reptilians in a jungle-like environment. Geep and his buddies’ fangs dripped with beads of the thick fluid. They attacked the pseudo-reptilians who fall over dead. The final image had Geep and his buddies doing what looked like a victory dance on the dead bodies.
Her diminutive partner was blood-thirsty. This just might work.
“You’re my own poison dart gun without the gun or the darts.” Susa chuckled. “I’m so happy you’re on my side.”
She slid a hand under the bottom of his round body. His two tiny feet with their prehensile toes clung to her hand, their claws sheathed. Lifting him carefully, now with both hands supporting his deceptively heavy body, she brought him to eye level. “You do only poison people who threaten you, correct?”
Geep blinked, his huge purple-colored eyes sparkling with amuseme
nt. He purred and sent her reassurances by stroking her mentally. It tickled.
“Okay, then.” Susa gave his head a little kiss and placed him back on her lap. “We’ll double-team him. You bite his leg. I’ll back you up if something goes amiss.”
Geep snuggled into her body, his toes delicately gripping her thighs so he wouldn’t fall off. Then they waited. Geep emitted happy little mrrfs and purrs as she petted him.
They didn’t have to wait long.
Even before she heard the slight sound outside the door, Geep stiffened. He leapt to the floor and scurried to the other side of the entrance. His teeth showed as a bright white gleam amongst his dark ash-brown fur. He was ready for battle. She prayed he was as lethal as he thought he was, because she was scared to death.
Susa stood next to the chair, out of the line of sight from the entrance, gripped her knife so tightly the knife’s handle would be imprinted on her palm, and took deep, slow breaths.
Chapter 9
Outside the Dornian ship, Obam II space dock
Having a more powerful engine, Damon and Dobrek had beaten the Dornians to the space dock by mere minutes. After making sure their fighter craft’s security systems were active, they’d left the ship and hid behind a stack of cargo across from where the Dornian ship was scheduled to dock.
“Have you ever gone hand-to-hand with a pseudo-reptilian?” Dobrek’s voice was as calm as if he were waiting to catch a ride and not risking his life taking on lethally dangerous mercenaries.
“I run a galactic rim jump station with a dubious reputation. I also kicked around the galaxy in my youth,” Damon replied. “What do you think?”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Dobrek snorted. “Have you killed any?”
Damon looked the former Alliance military officer in the eye. “Yeah. Too many to recall.”
“So many?” Dobrek sounded skeptical. “That must’ve been some adventuring, or your jump station is more violent than my space dock.”
Damon focused his attention on the incoming Dornian craft. “My adventuring included undercover contract work for the Alliance Military black ops in the rim worlds. Let’s just say … don’t bet against me on killing my target. How about you?”
“Don’t bet against me, either.” Dobrek stiffened as the dock clamps clanked loudly in the little occupied portion of the space dock. “Get ready.”
Damon pulled his battle-blade from a sheath on his thigh. His blade was shorter than most battle-blades and was designed for close-encounter fighting. The blade, crafted by a leading Prime weapon master, had been a gift from Borac. The gleaming silver-gray edges were honed so sharply the blade could cut a silken cloth dropped onto it. Dobrek carried an Alliance Military-issue knife. While not as highly prized as a Prime-made blade, it was just as lethal.
Blades in hand, both men eyed the enemy spacecraft’s main hatch. It opened with a whoosh and two Dornians, loaded down with weapons, passed through the short, translucent decontamination tunnel and then stomped down the ramp.
The mercs stopped and looked around, first toward the empty expanse of berths between their ship and the busier end of the dock, then toward Dobrek’s fighter. Their body language testified to their excitement at the sight of the top-grade fighter craft. The two jogged toward the fighter’s berth and moved up the ramp through the decontamination tunnel to the main hatch.
While one Dornian stood watch, the other removed a hand-held device from a pocket on his tactical vest and placed it on the fighter’s security key pad.
Dobrek snickered. “Big mistake.”
A bolt of electricity shot from the security pad into the larcenous Dornian’s code-breaking device which shorted out and burst into flames. The Dornian shouted and dropped the now-blackened device. The other merc turned, saw what had happened, and kicked the door, receiving his own jolt of electricity.
The two wheezed and jumped around in anger and pain for several seconds. After they calmed down, they took their battle-blades and began hacking at the fighter craft’s hatch, causing even more sparks to fly.
While the Dornians were focused on trying to get through the fighter craft’s security, Damon and Dobrek left their hiding place and quickly approached the ramp. As they entered the decontamination tunnel, Damon indicated he’d take the guy with the burned hand. Dobrek nodded.
At Damon’s hand signal, they rushed the two pseudo-reptilians whose backs were to them.
Damon didn’t mess around when fighting Dornians—he went straight for the kill. There were times when he liked a good knock-down, drag-out, knuckle-busting fight, but this wasn’t one of them.
Circling his target’s neck with his arm, he pulled Burned Hand’s head back and shoved the blade into the kill spot. Or so he thought.
With a scream of pain, the Dornian tried to shake Damon off and failed.
Despite the green blood spurting over Damon’s hand, he obviously hadn’t hit the exact spot. The pseudo-reptilian was alive, clawing, struggling like hell to gain control of the blade from Damon. And healing.
Fuck, just fuck. He was out of practice.
With Burned Hand shredding the leather of his arm guards, Damon gritted his teeth and used every ounce of strength to tighten his hold on the Dornian’s neck. He pulled the blade back out, shifted the sharp tip over a millimeter, and found the spot. The thin bone protecting the kill spot crunched loudly this time.
Burned Hand made panicked, gurgling sounds and used the last of his waning strength to try to pull the blade out. If the Dornian succeeded, he’d heal to fight another day.
Would not happen.
Damon held onto the bucking Dornian and then twisted the blade still lodged in Burned Hand’s skull. The pseudo-reptilian’s body went slack. Damon let go and the Dornian toppled to the ramp like a stack of unbalanced crates.
Glancing over to see if Dobrek needed any help, Damon grunted with satisfaction at the sight of the other Dornian on the ground with Dobrek checking for a pulse.
“He’s gone. How about yours?” Dobrek coolly wiped his blade on the dead man’s pants.
“He’s dead.” Damon pulled his blade from the man’s skull and wiped off the green blood on the Dornian’s jumpsuit. “Let’s hide these bodies and go get Susa.”
Damon dragged Burned Hand down the fighter craft’s ramp and hid the body behind the stack of crates which he and Dobrek had used for cover. “We’ll let the Obam space dock commander know he has garbage detail.”
“Yes. Cleaning up is the least he can do.” Dobrek placed the other Dornian’s body next to Damon’s kill. “After we clear the control room, I’ll take the lowest level of the ship. You can take the level below the command deck.”
“Roger that. Com check.” Damon tapped on the ear com unit. “You receiving me?”
“Yes.” Dobrek tapped his in reply. “You?”
“Yeah.” Blade in hand, Damon led the way onto the Dornians’ ship. The mercs hadn’t bothered to close the hatch to their craft. The control room was empty.
Avoiding the lift, Damon took the emergency stairs to the level below the main deck which held the officer’s cabins and mess. Dobrek headed to the lowest level containing the engine room, crew’s quarters, and freight hold.
As Damon made his way down the corridor, he cleared each room. When he reached the end, the only door left was to the captain’s quarters.
As he was about to enter, a furious masculine roar and a woman’s terrified scream had Damon slamming his hand on the entrance panel to open the door. The door slid open, and for several seconds, he stood frozen in place.
Standard minutes earlier
With her back against the wall adjacent to the entrance, Susa and Geep waited for Sleko to enter. Geep was on the other side; his eyes, narrowed and gaze, fixed.
Susa found herself holding her breath as the door slid open. Light-headed, she forced herself to breathe and missed the opportunity to attack Sleko as he entered. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Sleko stood in t
he center of the small room and growled at the sight of the empty bed. His tongue flicked, tasting the air. He turned. “There you are, sued-seuater.” Seed sucker. “Foolish woman. You cannot hide from Sleko. Your scent betrays you.” He flicked his tongue again. “Scared? Scared is tasty.”
As Sleko stalked in her direction, she kept her knife-hand behind her back and side-stepped toward the desk alcove. Besides keeping some distance between them, this also forced Sleko to focus on her and not Geep.
Making no sound, Geep scurried toward Sleko, jumped, and latched onto Sleko’s calf with teeth and claws, right above the man’s boot top.
Sleko roared several ugly-sounding words in his language. Shaking his leg and slapping at Geep, he snarled, “Be gone, foul creature.”
Susa’s valiant protector held on, his fur sticking straight out, fluffing him to twice his normal size.
Sleko didn’t drop to the ground or die as Geep had promised.
Susa gasped for breath as fear for both her and Geep’s lives overcame her. What had gone wrong?
When Sleko lifted his arm to draw his battle-blade from a back sheath, the movement revealed extra armor underneath his clothing.
“Geep! Run!” Panicked, but sticking with the plan, Susa charged. She slashed at Sleko’s carotid. Thick, acidic-green blood spurted. Maybe the loss of arterial blood would weaken him enough that she could plant her knife in his kill spot.
Sleko backhanded her.
Susa slipped in Sleko’s blood and fell backward; the impact with the floor knocked the breath out of her. She barely managed to hold onto her knife. Her exposed skin burned from the contact with the green viscous liquid.
Geep hadn’t run. Instead he clung to Sleko’s leg as the Dornian slashed at the little guy.
“Let go, Geep,” she screamed. “He has on extra armor.” She pictured in her mind what she’d seen, in case Geep didn’t know the word armor.
Geep released his hold on Sleko’s calf and scurried under the bed, out of reach of the Dornian’s weapon.
Sleko lunged after Geep and slid in his own blood. The loss of blood was finally telling on him, but the pseudo-reptilian was also healing. The formerly gaping neck wound was now a slit and the acid-green blood no longer spurted, but merely oozed.
Prime Target Page 9
