Alien Mercenary’s Destiny by Mina Carter
4
“It’s not often I take a recommendation,” T’Raal said, leaning against the back of the command chair with his arms folded across his broad chest. “But in this case, I think it warrants some discussion.”
He’d called a crew meeting an hour after Eric had spoken to him about Zad and now all the crew were assembled on the bridge, which was way too many bodies for such a small space. Thanks to working in specialist labs for years, Eric wasn’t particularly claustrophobic, but even he wished they could open a window or something.
“Is it about getting pizza in the galley?” Sparky asked hopefully. “Because, dude, your menu sucks donkey balls. Big hairy ones.”
T’Raal leveled a look at him. “I don’t even want to know.”
Marika sniggered. “He’s kinda right, though. Pizza would be awesome.”
The Warborne leader’s expression didn’t alter. “It’s not pizza.”
“Can we table that for another day then? The pizza discussion?” Sparky asked, leaning on one side of the tactical chair while Fin leaned on the other.
“If we must. Right now I want to discuss the possible addition of another crew member.”
“Do we have room?” Skinny piped up. “At this rate we’re going to need a bigger ship.”
T’Raal nodded. “Yes, and we will eventually. Red, Fin and I will be discussing that soon. Right now, as per Eric’s suggestion, I’d like to propose we offer Zad a trial on the crew.”
Silence fell. Red’s sharp gaze focused on T’Raal. Everyone else tried not to give the impression this conversation was just between the two of them.
“The Krynassis female?”
T’Raal nodded as nervous sweat rolled down Eric’s spine. T’Raal had to say yes. He had to. Either that or… he’d have to try and persuade the new pit management to take him on in some capacity. But that would mean leaving Eris because he couldn’t see his sister parting from Zero, and he was practically part of the ship from what Eric could make out.
“You’re aware she’s full-blooded?”
Eric watched Red’s face. She wasn’t giving much away. Did she not want the other woman aboard, even though they were both the same species?
“I would have thought it would have been nice,” he commented. “To have another woman… you know, like you about…” His words trailed off as all the aliens on the crew turned to look at him, and suddenly he realized he’d made a faux pas. “What? It’s a reasonable assumption.”
“Krynassis females do not get along well,” Red replied, slowly and carefully, like she was talking to an idiot who didn’t know any better. “There’s only one female aboard a hive ship, the queen. If she meets another, it’s usually on the battlefield and they fight to the death. Winner takes all.”
He blinked. “Shit.”
“So that’s a no can do on another sexy scaled lady aboard,” Sparky quipped. “Damn, that would have been awesome.”
Red snarled at him, showing tiny fangs. Then she stepped back, visibly reining in her temper by taking a deep breath as she closed her eyes. When she opened them, she looked directly at T’Raal, ignoring the rest of them.
“Just looking at the facts, she’s tough, she’s a fighter and with armoring… yeah, she’d be a valuable asset on the team,” she ground out. “If you want her aboard for a trial, I won’t cause problems.”
“Hey, Zad… got a minute?”
Zad paused on the boarding ramp of the Sprite and turned to look over her shoulder.
The leader of the Warborne, T’Raal, dropped down the last few rungs of the ladder to the deck above with a small jump. It wasn’t entirely fanciful that she almost felt the deck shudder beneath her feet. To say T’Raal was a big unit was an understatement.
Her gaze flicked over him quickly. Tall and broad-shouldered, his hair fell loose over his shoulders, completely free of honor braids. That she’d expected. It was no secret that T’Raal wasn’t imperial. In fact, most of the gossip about the Warborne said he hated the empire and everything it stood for. She wondered what had caused that bad feeling, what experiences he’d had in his past that had shaped such a dislike.
“What can I help you with?” she asked, turning to face him.
A small thread of amusement rolled through her as she realized he’d assessed her pretty much the same way she’d assessed him. Professionally. Like a fighter would size up an opponent. She’d have expected nothing less, though. She’d seen some sketchy merc crews, but it was obvious the Warborne were not like that.
Not only did they have their reputation going for them, but as soon as she’d seen them in action and then stepped aboard their ship, it was obvious T’Raal ran a tight crew even with families on board. It was the first time she’d ever seen a mercenary team running with noncombatant crew members. The idea was intriguing… especially since Eric was one of those noncombatants.
“How’s our unexpected hero?” the big Lathar asked.
She didn’t bother to ask him how he knew she’d just come from the medical bay. She had no other business aboard and he knew it.
“He’s getting better quickly,” she replied, dropping her weight onto one hip, her stance relaxed. She didn’t need to worry overly much. Not here. If T’Raal wanted her dead, she’d already have breathed her last. “Surprising, since humans seem to be such a fragile species.”
T’Raal grinned, revealing straight white teeth. He was a handsome male, ticking all the right boxes. If she’d met him in the pits—and he would have been a T1, she had no doubt of that—she wouldn’t have refused if he’d extended her an invitation. But now… nothing.
“You’d think that. Wouldn’t you?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Just… yeah, don’t count them out too early. Some of them? Loco is not the word.”
“Easy to say when you know a grand total of what… six?”
T’Raal smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Something like that, yeah.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Something like six? Or six? Or more than six?”
He put his hands above his head, resting them on a support strut she’d never have hoped to reach, and leaned against them. The power move left him totally open, yet made the point he was dangerous all at the same time. Only someone supremely confident in their abilities would be comfortable doing that in front of a seasoned pit fighter like her. “You’re a pushy one. Aren’t you?”
She shrugged. “I like accurate information. Less chance of fuckups that way.”
He inclined his head. “Accurate intel is always a plus. So is trust.”
She folded her arms. “Trust has to go both ways.”
His expression didn’t change as he watched her. “I’ve trusted you on my ship. Haven’t I?”
“A ship full of killers, yes. What’s not to trust?”
He tsked at her, clicking his tongue on the back of his teeth. “A little unfair. You know we have noncombatants on board.”
“Yeah…” She relaxed a little. He was right. He’d let her on board without a guard when he didn’t need to. All so she could see the male who had gotten hurt helping her. “Where is this going?”
“Well, it seems to me you’re good for Eric’s recovery. And…” he shrugged one massive shoulder. “You’re a damn good fighter. Occurs to me you’d make a half-decent mercenary.”
That surprised a laugh out of her and she echoed the words of his crewmember earlier. “Did you miss what I am?”
He grinned again. “Oh no, I know exactly what you are. Practically brought Red up, so I’m more than aware just how dangerous Krynassis females are.”
“Red?” She arched an eyebrow. “She’s only half blood. Not in the same league at all. No offense,” she added, catching his comment about bringing the other female up. How did a Lathar male end up raising a half-Krynassis child? Had his mate been raped by a clutch?
“None taken.” The expression in his eyes turned calculating. “Cards on the table. You’d make a good addition to the team. And I know you haven’t got anywhere else to go. So unless you plan on staying as a fighter…” he trailed off, watching her.
“Asshole,” she groused. He knew she was almost out of options.
“You’d get to stay near Eric.”
“That line just upped you to bastard.” Her voice rattled with anger.
He grinned. “I know. So what do you say? Probationary period and then full team membership. Standard contract. You even get your own room. Unless, of course, you want to share.”
She pursed her lips. It wasn’t a choice. Not really. “Okay, I’m in.”
T’Raal smiled broadly. “Excellent, I’ll send you the contract.”
“You do that.” She nodded, turning to go. It wouldn’t make a difference if he did or not. She wouldn’t read it. She’d just sign it.
“Zad?”
She paused, her back still to him, and turned her head slightly. “Yeah.”
“Eight. I know eight humans.”
Chaos still reigned in the pits even though the fighters had won. As with any change in management, an element of uncertainty and what the vaark loomed as the new owners of the pits started getting things in order. The cells were all open, bar one that held the pits’ former slavemaster, sentenced to fight for his freedom like he had forced so many others to do.
Of the others, some had opted to stay as free fighters to make a little money while others were awaiting news on transport home or somewhere else in the galaxy so they could start anew. One thing held true for them all. The doors were open. They were no longer slaves. They could come and go as they pleased.
In the midst of all the confusion, no one noticed as a T2 fighter made his way through the crowded corridors and up into the public levels of the arena. He slipped out of one of the side doors behind a bank of seating and headed for the public communications booths.
Casting a nervous look over his shoulder, a forked tongue flickered over his lips as he punched in a comms code. The screen in front of him stayed black. The code was audio only. He didn’t know who the being on the other end was, and he didn’t want to know. People who asked questions like that ended up dead.
“Yes?”
“You asked me to watch the female?” he said, keeping his voice low and his face turned away from the security cameras in the small lobby. He rubbed at the back of his neck, his broken claws irritating the rash there.
“And? Is she dead?”
“No,” he admitted, suspecting that wasn’t going to be welcome news.
“Then why have you used this code?”
Anger filled the voice, a malevolent note sending ice to slither down his spine. He couldn’t work out if it was male, female, or from a multi-gendered species, and quite frankly he didn’t care. The only reason he was making the call was because he owed a debt.
“There’s been a development with the pits. They’re under new management.” The words bubbled out of him like a mountain stream over rocks, falling over one another. “The fighters have all been freed.”
“And the female?”
He swallowed nervously, even though he had no cause to be nervous. When he ended the call, his debt was paid.
“Taken up with the Warborne mercenaries.”
The line went dead and he sagged against the side of the booth. That was it. It was done. He was free.
Turning, he walked away from the booth, his steps lighter than they had been for years. Or the first was. The second took a little more effort and by the third, his body wasn’t responding anymore.
He gasped, trying to drag air into lungs that no longer worked as he crumbled to the floor. He looked down, eyeball almost against the dirty tiles of the floor in the lobby. Something dark and questionable lay between them that the cleaning bots had missed.
That black stain was the last thing he saw before the darkness claimed him.
“So, I’m all good? I can leave?” Eric asked Tal as he pulled his shirt back on. The medic had just checked over his wounds, finally removing all the dressings to reveal new, pink skin where previously he’d had gaping wounds.
Eric wasn’t an idiot. He knew he’d escaped death by the skin of his teeth. If he’d been back “home,” he’d have been a goner for sure.
“You’re all good. I would have preferred for you to heal naturally, given your human physiology isn’t used to cellular regenerative healing, but…” He shrugged. “It’s taken well so far. I don’t see any problems.”
Eric pursed his lips, reaching out to pick up his notes and flick through them. Despite the fact they were written in Latharian, he could make out about half of them. Languages had never been a problem for him, and there were a lot of diagrams, which helped him work out what Talent had done to save him.
“But, I’m not totally human anymore. Am I?” he asked, his gaze focusing in on the alterations the medic had made to his genetic code in order to kick start regeneration. Somehow. He still wasn’t sure of all the science. Not yet.
“Can I keep this?” he asked, waving the Flexi-plastic file at Tal.
The medic shrugged. “Knock yourself out.”
“Thanks,” Eric said absently as he continued reading.
“Come in, just clearing up from my last patient and then we can get started,” the healer said.
Eric looked up to find Zad hovering uncertainly in the doorway—if the Krynassis woman could ever be described as doing anything uncertainly. She always seemed utterly confident and sure of herself.
“I can come back later if you need more time,” she mentioned, flicking a glance at Eric as she took a step into the room.
Her gaze flicked down to the file in his hand and her expression tightened for just a fraction of a second before she blanked her face. But he caught it. He wasn’t usually so perceptive and was well aware that with most people he missed certain social cues, but with her he was hyper focused, aware of everything about her. Quickly he shoved the file behind his back. It was evidence of his weakness, that he’d been injured. Someone like her, from a species that was practically invulnerable… did he disgust her?
“No, no… we’re good,” the medic insisted.
Eric smiled and pushed off from where he was leaning. “I should be going,” he said, about to walk past her.
“You can stay,” she said gruffly, surprising him.
“Are you sure?” He looked down at her in surprise. “It’s a medical exam. You might want some privacy?”
She shook her head and looked past him, her skin blanching a little at the sight of the auto-bed. His brow creased a fraction. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear she was nervous.
“No, it’s okay. Please?” she asked, the last word so softly he knew Tal, with his back turned, hadn’t heard it.
Shit. She was nervous. Like, really nervous.
He smiled. “No problem. I’ll be right over here.”
She nodded, her breathing short as Tal activated the auto-bed and waved her toward it.
“Just a quick scan so we have a baseline of all your vitals and levels on file. Makes it easier if you’re ever injured in the field,” he said.
“In the field?” Eric asked absently, his attention on the woman sauntering across the small room. She was even graceful as she perched on the edge of the bed and boosted herself onto it. “What do you mean in the field?”
She smiled tightly as she looked over at him. “Your boss asked me to join the Warborne.”
“Yeah?” His face split into a wide smile as pleasure rolled through him. If she stayed, he would get to see her more. Much more. “That’s awesome. The room next to mine is free.”
A small sound from Tal made him look up sharply, but the medic’s face was calm and neutral as he started the scan.
“I’m not sure I get to demand a room assignment,” she said, lying still. Even from here, Eric could tell she was nervous, though she looked completely calm and unruffled. He didn’t know how, or why, he just did. “I’m sure your boss will assign something suitable.”
“Yeah. Sure he will.”
And he would assign the room next to Eric’s even if he had to threaten to unravel the guy’s DNA or something. The other option was the one near Sparky’s room, and no way did he want her anywhere near that charming asshole of an ex-con.
He waited as Tal ran through the normal battery of tests, having to force himself to wait out of the way rather than step forward to study the screens and take a look at her genetic code. She was his first real alien—well, if they discounted Beauty who’d been posing as a Lathar—and she fascinated him just as much on a scientific level as she did on a primal male-female level. Not that he held out any hope that she would actually be interested in him. No, she was a fighter. She’d go for someone big and buff like T’Raal…
Shit. His mood took a nose dive.
Was that why she’d joined the Warborne? Because she found T’Raal attractive? He couldn’t compete with the huge, ripped as hell warrior on a physical level. The only thing he had going for him was his mind, but he didn’t think that would appeal to her. He’d always had problems with women being intimidated by his intelligence in the past. Folding his arms, he rolled his neck trying to ease the ache in his upper back.
The small movement drew her attention and she looked his way, what almost looked like panic on her face.
“It’s okay.” He smiled in reassurance. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”
And he wouldn’t. She was stuck with him, for as long as she wanted. For whatever she wanted.
And he meant that in every sense of the word.
