Alien Mercenary’s Destiny by Mina Carter
11
An hour later the Warborne walked through the airlock onto the Eventide, the jewel in the crown of the Kantarran royal navy. They were all outfitted for war, heavily armed and armored in some cases. There was no mistaking what they were, and heads turned as they passed. These were obviously just the crew, scurrying around in their matching jumpsuits. They all looked nearly identical with a slender but toned physique he’d have envied in days past.
The two guards who had met them at the airlock walked in front of them with T’Raal, their forbidding expressions indicating that neither of them wanted the Warborne on board. They were dressed in something that somewhere in its past might once have been plate armor but had evolved into useless frippery. The ship itself was the complete opposite of the Sprite with sweeping, high-ceilinged corridors. Luxury abounded everywhere he looked—from the tasteful gilt edging of the nameplates on the doors to the plush carpet underfoot. Even for the flagship of a planetary fleet, it was impressive.
“Please do try to keep up,” one of the guards ordered with disdain over his shoulder. “The princess does not like to be kept waiting.” Especially, his expression added, by a bunch of low lives and commoners.
“I don’t think we’re that popular,” Eric murmured to Fin, who walked next to him.
The Navarr chuckled, his face under the beard twisting slightly in amusement. “To be fair, the Kantar don’t like anyone.”
He appeared to have drawn the short straw as Eric’s babysitter again. Although when it came to combat, he didn’t need one. He’d proven in their last mission that his physical upgrade had come bundled with a shed load of knowledge in combat and tactical thinking that he hadn’t had before, but he suspected Fin was there to stop him if anyone decided to look at Zad the wrong way again and his possessive nature kicked in.
In other words, Fin was there to stop him kicking the crap out of any of these tiny, pasty-looking Kantar and causing a diplomatic incident. Or, worse, causing them to lose the job. He didn’t want to lose them the job. One, it would be a dick move. Two, T’Raal would probably glare at him, and the guy had a glare that could give a rattlesnake a headache. And three, Zad would probably glare at him. He didn’t want her upset with him. Not when he had plans for them both tonight.
They stopped in front of a large set of double doors. At least ten feet wide, they were twice as tall and seemed utterly out of place on a starship. More like something that should be in a cathedral, especially with the ornately inlaid scrolls.
“The Kantar are generally known as the architects of the ancient galaxy,” Fin leaned in to murmur. “They’re much reduced from what they were, but their ships are still amazing.”
“So I can see.” His eyes almost bugged out of his head as the doors swept open in front of them and the true splendor of the princess’s throne room was revealed. They walked through the magnificent doors… and into space.
“T’Raal Verran and the mercenary unit, the Warborne,” an officious-looking footman announced loudly.
Eric and the other humans in the group bit back gasps as between one moment and the next they went from a ship to something that shouldn’t be possible. Heavily carved and inscribed pillars lined each side of the long throne room, rising into arches so high all the details were gradually lost to sight. Between them was nothing but space. No bulkheads, no forcefields, just the inky blackness of space on one side and the glorious sight of a double sunrise on the planet they were orbiting. Second sunrise, Eric’s brain absently reminded him, the information plucked from the briefing notes he’d scanned.
“What? How…” Eris breathed, keeping her expression bored, as though she saw such miracles every day.
“Molecular energy shielding,” Red replied in a low voice. “No one else has it. I’ve seen trashed producer units but never one in action. Do you reckon they’d let me take a look?”
“Highly doubt it.” T’Raal shook his head, gesturing toward the guards that lined the throne room. His voice was low, so only their little group could hear. “You know how protective they are of their tech.”
Red grumbled something under her breath but kept walking. Eric hid his grin at the side-eye she gave several of the guards as they passed. One even took a half pace backward because the half-Krynassis woman looked so fierce. He watched Zad and Red, both in front of him as they approached the throne. Like night and day, they couldn’t have been more different.
They were the same height, nearing his own former six feet, and moved in a similarly graceful way. But there the resemblance ended. Red was more muscular, and moved with power and unconcealed threat, her red-blonde hair pulled back severely from her face. If she had scales like Zad, Eric had yet to see them. Apart from a slight fork to the end of her tongue, she seemed almost entirely Lathar.
Zad, by contrast, was sleeker, less heavily muscled with more lean strength. She moved with the elegant lethality of a big cat, her dark hair flowing over her shoulders and the tiny scales under her skin catching the overhead lights.
“She is fucking gorgeous,” Sparky breathed, stealing the thoughts right out of Eric’s head. He turned sharply, a growl already forming in his throat. The need to rip the other man’s eyes out for even looking at his woman ripped through him with the force of a tsunami. Then he realized Sparky wasn’t looking at Zad, but up ahead, at the throne.
“You will bow before her most royal highness, the Star of Nerishnia, Princess Ameria al atna Kantara, heir apparent to the throne of Kantar,” a tall, distinguished-looking man standing at the bottom of the dais ordered.
“Oh, Cathan, there’s no need for that surely!” a light, delicate voice chirped as the woman on the throne, the one they’d seen in the information files that had been sent over, bounced to her feet and practically bunny-hopped down the stairs.
Her eyes were alight with excitement as she looked around them, like a little China doll in the middle of a group of hulking brutes. She was so tiny even Eris towered over her, and his sister was a little below average in the height stakes even for a human woman.
“Hey.” She smiled, adding a little wave. “I’m Ameria. You can call me Merry. Oh my goddess, you’re the Warborne… you really are as scary looking as they say.” She leaned in and whispered. “I’m a big fan. Watch all the shows and docu-dramas they’ve done on you guys.”
Eric blinked, shaking his head a little. This was an imminent scientist? An expert in her field? She looked like little more than a teenager.
“I can assure you,” T’Raal said with a smile. “We’re not as scary as they make out.”
“I’m not scary at all,” Sparky butted in, trying to shove his way in front of the diminutive princess.
Beauty blocked him, a hard arm across the ex-con’s chest.
“No, you’re just the idiot. Don’t mind him, Princess,” he said. “We promised his mom we’d look after him.”
Her eyes widened so far they almost bugged out of her face. “Really? Oh my, well, I’m sure you all do a very good job.” She smiled, folding her hands neatly in front of her as she looked around at them all. When no one said anything, all of them seemingly a little stunned by the princess’s enthusiasm, she smiled again.
“Perhaps you should all introduce yourselves?” she prompted. “I mean, I know most of you. But you have a few new hires, I see.” She looked at Sparky under her lashes. Eric wanted to groan. Trust Sparky to have walked into a throne room, hit on a princess, and actually have her respond. Some guys had all the luck.
The problem was, the little princess was so innocent it made even his teeth ache… easy pickings for an amoral playboy like Sparky. The last thing they needed was for the princess to get knocked up and have a whole fucking navy out for their blood.
T’Raal nodded. “Okay, so from the left we got Zero and Beauty. Sparky is our resident idiot and next to him are Red and Zad. Bringing up the rear we have Fin and Doc.”
He gave a little start of surprise as T’Raal referred to him with his call sign for the first time. Damn… he must have graduated to a full member of the team then. He couldn’t help the small grin that washed over his face at the thought. This… here… this was where he belonged. In the thick of it with a team around him, and—his gaze lingered on Zad in front of him—the perfect woman at his side. He’d thought he’d make a difference to the world… galaxy in a lab, but it seemed fate had had other ideas for him. He could make a difference here, with a band of aliens who’d accepted him like a brother.
And he couldn’t think of anything better.
“Pleased to meet you,” Zad murmured, echoing the greetings of the rest of the team as the princess glanced around with a look of utter delight on her face. It felt weird, being fangirled on by anyone, but even more so when she hadn’t even earned a callsign yet.
“Oh, it really is so wonderful to meet you all. Please, come this way,” Ameria indicated they should follow her, a little hop in her step as she headed toward a side door tucked away behind a pillar. The Warborne trailed after her as she continued talking at top speed.
“When my father said there had been threats again, I was worried he wouldn’t allow me to attend the summit… hey, Davos, how’s the family?” She broke off to ask one of the guards they passed. He beamed with happiness at the princess’s attention. “Is little Carson still teething? Oh, that’s great, please pass my regards to your wife…” She smiled over her shoulder in apology as they had to walk on, returning her attention to the Warborne. “And I really, really need to be at this one. I have some research findings to present. I’ve made a breakthrough in identifying the area of space the Tanel came from.”
“Your field is xeno-religious history. Right?” Eric asked, stepping out from the back of the group.
“That’s right, yes.” The princess smiled. “You’re Doc, right? Do you study Vallhaushni as well? I’m sorry, I didn’t realize a scholar was on the Warborne team.”
He shrugged, easily keeping pace with her. Zad watched from the middle of the group, a niggle of unease worming its way through her at the ease with which the two chatted. She would never be able to do that with him. Especially when she had no clue what half the words he used meant.
It wasn’t just a lack of education but more the fact her brain simply didn’t work that way. She could pick up any fighting technique after seeing it a few times and the tactical holos T’Raal had suggested she watch all made perfect sense. But books? Words… about things she couldn’t even see, or events so far in the past no one remembered them? Those she couldn’t keep in her brain.
“Your Majesty,” a new voice demanded attention, a note of challenge in the deep tones.
They came to a stop in front of a tall, black-haired male dressed in ceremonial plate armor. He had the polished good looks of a model or intergalactic screen star, his handsome features currently twisted in an expression of distaste as he looked at the Warborne crew like they were something nasty he’d scraped off his boot.
“General Kaler,” the princess said with a cool nod, her amiable and bubbly personality disappearing. “How nice of you to finally join us.”
“Had I been aware of the real location of this meeting,” the general bristled, “I would have been early enough to talk you out of this… this stupidity!”
Oh my, the pretty-boy general definitely had a tick under his scales about something. Zad hid her amusement at the frustrated expression on the general’s face, her stance relaxed like the rest of the team as they waited for the princess to deal with her staff.
“The real location?” Ameria’s eyebrow winged up. “Where else would I meet my guests but in the throne room?”
Ameria didn’t like the general. Zad filed that realization away for later. You never knew when such information would become useful. She hadn’t survived five years in the pits to miss anything that might help.
Kaler didn’t reply, glaring instead at the Warborne. His lip curled. “This… filth shouldn’t be allowed to breathe the same air as Your Majesty. Allow me to remove them. Guards!”
Zad tensed, ready to do battle, but Ameria’s voice cut through the air like a whip. “Belay that order! General, if you cannot be polite to my friends, I am afraid I will have to ask you to leave.”
“Besides, who are you calling filth?” Sparky growled, straightening up from his slouch. “I will have you know I am descended from a long line of kings, a line that can be traced back all the way to Nemain, goddess of war herself.”
The ex-convict suddenly looked very dangerous indeed, his blue eyes flashing with anger and an aura of power around him that hadn’t been there before. Like it had been hidden behind a veil of obscurity. Which made sense if he was, indeed, descended from kings.
“And we have a queen among us as well,” Eric announced, his voice hard as he indicated Zad. Automatically she stood taller, her expression regal. “So I would be very careful who you call filth.”
The general’s chin lifted, his nostrils flaring. Then he visibly reined his temper in. “I see. Well, I’m sorry if any of you took offense at my words. Please, come this way to the briefing room and we’ll update you on the part you are to play in Her Majesty’s security arrangements while on the surface.”
Zad narrowed her eyes, following the general as he stalked off while Merry and Eric chatted once more. Was she the only one who’d picked up on the fact that Kaler had only apologized if they’d been offended by his words, rather than actually apologizing for what he’d said?
“Well, wasn’t Kaler just a precious ray of sunshine?” Sparky quipped as the Warborne were shown into what would be their staging room—somewhere they could rest and prepare for the mission ahead. Only Zad and Red were absent, still being briefed by General Kaler.
Zero grunted as he dropped two heavy kit bags on the floor in the middle of the room. One held the team’s body armor and the other his shoulder rig and ammunition. Eric didn’t even want to think about the combined weight of both. He’d managed to lift one for a couple of seconds. Even with his bigger build now, he couldn’t take more than a step or so with it. Zero had carried both all the way from the docking bay.
One day he’d have to figure out what Zero’s lifting capacity actually was and how much of that was down to the metal that laced his body versus how much was from his biological side. Like Skinny, who was a Lathar adapted for heavy gravity worlds, Zero’s species appeared to have evolved for more rugged environments.
“He’s very determined to protect his princess,” Fin replied, leaning against the back wall and rubbing at the back of his neck. His hair was loose over his shoulders, concealing the tattoos across his scalp. The rest remained covered by his long-sleeve t-shirt. Perhaps he’d covered up so as not to offend? Eric had noticed than none of the Kantar appeared to have any tattoos.
“Either that. Or he’s giving them an in-depth briefing, if you know what I mean?” Sparky smirked, nudging Beauty with his elbow and winking.
Eric saw red.
“Sssshe’s mine!” he snarled, going toe to toe with the ex-con.
It wasn’t the most sensible of moves but he didn’t care. Rage and jealousy surged through him in equal amounts. He’d take anyone on to keep her, even a maniac ex-con who’d been sentenced to life in one of the most lethal max security prisons ever invented. He hadn’t missed the tattoos around the other human’s upper arms. Sparky was a wraith, a prisoner who’d survived in Mirax Ruas, and each tattooed line marked a year in hell. Sparky had balls and experience. He’d probably killed more people than Eric had had hot dinners.
Sparky’s head tipped to the side, a frown creasing his brow. “Did you just hiss?”
“What? No, of course I didn’t. Don’t be ridiculous,” Eric snapped. He was human. He didn’t hiss. “I’m not an animal.”
Silence filled the room so frosty alarm bells went off in his head. Turning, he spotted Zad in the doorway, the pain in her eyes somewhere between heart-wrenching and soul-stealing. As he watched, they blanked and she straightened up, her scales washing over her skin.
“Zad, darling—”
She cut him off with a slice of her hand. “If that’s what you think, that I’m just an animal, we’re done.”
Before he could utter a reply, she turned on her heel and stalked away.
“Zad! Please, wait!” he called out, hurrying after her.
T’Raal slammed a hard hand into the doorway to stop him, his expression like granite. “Give her space.”
“No, I need to talk to her.”
He tried to slide past the mercenary leader, but T’Raal just squared up to him, his eyes hard. Even with his new instincts and responses, he knew going one on one with T’Raal was a bad idea. He’d had his new, bigger body for days, but T’Raal had always had his, along with years and years of hard combat experience that would give most commandoes nightmares.
Lifting his hands in surrender, he backed off. “Okay, I’ll give her space.”
“First sensible thing you’ve said since you walked into the room,” the hard-faced mercenary leader said and then looked around the room. “T-minus ten minutes, guys. Get ready to lock and load.”
The Warborne filed out of the room, avoiding his gaze, apart from Red, hovering in the doorway, who looked like she was ready to tear him apart, and Sparky who shook his head as he passed.
“I thought I was a dick, mate, but you got me beat hands fucking down. I’d say keep up the good work but I don’t like assholes upsetting my friends.”
