Hyperspeed Dreams by Anna Carven

Chapter Eight

The short tripto Low Earth Orbit; to the salvage freighter known as Iojojo, was quick and boring, and that was a good thing.

After dropping Alexis, Nythian, and the boys off on the dark, ominous mothership called Silence, Lodan welcomed a crew of no less than six hard-faced, battle-armored, armed-to-the-fucking-teeth Kordolians onto his ship. Alexis had insisted on going with them, but after some intense back-and-forth between her and Nythian, she’d backed down.

Tasha found it weird to see her grown-up sister interacting with these fierce aliens; sometimes getting her way, sometimes not, but not at all afraid to challenge them.

In the end, they’d agreed that Alexis, Felix, and Kylian would speak with Mama via holo-link as soon as she’d boarded the Kordolian ship.

It was now up to Tasha to handle things on the other end—to make sure the aliens didn’t terrify the humans too much.

How the fuck was she supposed to do that?

The chamber behind her was full of lethal warriors with plasma guns and vicious blades. None of them had said anything to her as they entered, each one greeting Lodan with their own version of manly alien banter. They hadn’t even acknowledged her. It was as if she didn’t even exist.

Tasha wasn’t used to this feeling.

When she’d worked for Praetorian, she was always the center of the mission.

Now she was just a mere human amongst powerful silver-skinned monsters.

Interestingly, said silver-skinned monsters all seemed to treat Lodan with a certain degree of deference and respect, and if Tasha wasn’t mistaken—even a little bit of fear.

Who the hell was he, really?

As they took off from Silence’s massive landing deck—a cavernous space filled with dozens of the fastest and most lethal looking obsidian ships she’d ever seen, Lodan glanced at her briefly. “We’ve located the freighter on the other side of the planet. The operator was trying to be clever by hiding in a cluster of space-junk. That might work against human surveillance, but our systems are much more sensitive.”

Tasha sat in a passenger seat to Lodan’s right, firmly strapped into the chair, which was made of the same dark material that lined the walls and floors of the ship. The back and sides and even the flight restraints seemed to move, molding perfectly against her body.

All of it was controlled by the pilot, who could release or tighten the restraints with a verbal command.

Effectively, she was his prisoner, but for some reason, Tasha found the tight restraints reassuring.

By her count, it was around six hours since she’d left Lagos.

Six hours, and she was already in space.

Kordolian ships were fast.

She could probably hold her symptoms at bay for a few hours longer, and then…

“What’s wrong with you?” Lodan’s cool voice sliced through her thoughts. He was sitting in the pilot’s chair, staring out at the infinite expanse of space.

“What are you talking about?”

“Sometimes, you go tense. You get tremors. Your heartbeat accelerates. A muscle in the left side of your face twitches.”

Really?She hadn’t even noticed that last one.

“You are not like other humans.”

“We’re not all the same, you know.”

He laughed; a low, velvety sound that was at odds with his hard appearance.

It sent a tremor down her spine that was not unpleasant. “If I tell you,” she said lightly, only half-serious, “will you promise not to sell me out to the people I escaped from?”

“Why in Kaiin’s Hells would I do that?”

Maybe, just maybe… “Maybe you have allies? And maybe your allies are my enemies?”

“We don’t have allies. There’s only us and the ones we’ve sworn to protect.” He fell silent as he executed a series of slight movements and commands, each one painstakingly precise, as if he were a machine.

Absently, Tasha wondered what it would be like to break that perfect control; to see him caught off-guard—messy.

She wanted to be the one to make him stumble.

What was his weakness?

What?

Tasha glanced out the window. Suddenly, Earth appeared, filling her entire view. She saw her home enveloped in darkness and light; half shrouded in night, half illuminated by the sun. She could make out a few of the continents—Africa, Europe, the edges of North and South America.

Swirls of white cloud covered the blue and green surface.

The unexpected beauty of it took her breath away.

She’d never seen Earth like this before.

Her throat went tight. She blinked rapidly, clearing her eyes, which had gone a little watery.

Her chair felt a little more snug; the restraints a little tighter. Lodan manipulated the controls; a series of dark fibers and nodes that ran across his bare silver hands. An obsidian visor extended across his eyes. He whispered something to no-one in particular, his voice low and mesmerizing.

His movements went from tight precision to perfect fluidity, as if he were caressing the ship itself.

Coaxing it.

Guiding it exactly where he wanted it to go.

In perfect control. Always.

Tasha’s breath caught.

It was so quiet in here.

So cold.

Suddenly, she felt warm and restless.

Maybe it was his icy stillness—the complete opposite of how she felt right now. Maybe it was the chiseled perfection of his silver features; the inhuman planes of his face, the moonlight-colored strands of his hair, which looked impossibly soft.

Maybe it was because he’d intentionally kept her by his side since they’d left the island—for reasons she didn’t entirely understand.

Outside, stars and darkness rushed by, and suddenly…

A massive floating piece of metal filled their vision. It was torn and mangled and old-looking—wreckage from a space collision, probably.

Tasha’s knuckles turned white as she gripped the armrests.

They didn’t crash.

They slipped past it.

Suddenly, there was another gigantic piece of metal…

And another…

And another.

Lodan evaded them all, guiding the ship as if it were an extension of his own body.

She’d never seen anything like it.

Suddenly, they were in the center of a slow-moving mass of space-junk. And just there, at the very edge of her vision, something caught her eye.

A silver ship, gleaming in the bright sunlight, a jewel amongst all the trash.

“That’s the Iojojo,” she whispered. She’d never seen it before, but she just knew. Because this freak of an alien pilot; this inhumanly perfect soldier—he would never make an error with something like this.

The ease and speed with which she’d located the damn ship was absolutely terrifying.

“Strange name,” Lodan muttered. “What does it mean?”

“I don’t know. It isn’t from any language that I know.”

Iojojowas owned by one Isla Tran, native of Oceania, former girlfriend to Kylian, and small-scale salvager of space debris.

Lodan opened some sort of holographic comm-device. “I’m sure she’s expecting us. They would have allowed your brothers to comm her from Silence.” He looked up at the holo in front of them, which was blank, showing nothing but an empty pale blue person-sized bubble.

Were human systems even compatible with Kordolian tech?

Lodan uttered a soft command in Kordolian.

The blue bubble flickered and wobbled…

And took the shape of a human.

A woman, wearing grease-stained grey coveralls and heavy old-fashioned gusseted leather workboots. A worn but comfortable looking black leather-synth jacket covered her arms and shoulders. Her long, shiny black hair was fashioned into twin Dutch braids that extended almost to her waist. She was built tall and curvy, and she looked tough.

So this is Isla Tran.

Tasha could kind-of see why Kylian would entrust her with Mama’s safety.

“Greetings, human.” Lodan’s tone was deadly serious, but one corner of his mouth flickered upwards in an ironic quarter-smile, disappearing so quickly Tasha wondered if she’d even seen it at all.

“Are you the Kordolians?” Isla Tran demanded. “Patched into my ultra-secure comm network like it was nothing, huh?” Her Universal accent was strange, as if she’d learned it from somewhere other than the official Federation texts.

“Ginny’s my guest. I’m not handing her over until you give me some sort of proof that you’re not going to sell her or do weird alien experiments on her.”

Ginny? What the fuck?

Lodan let out an exasperated sigh. “Why do all you humans think that we just want to do bad things to you?” He kept his voice low—only for her ears.

A spark of warmth ignited in her belly and spread outwards, suffusing her chest with heat.

Filling her body with barely contained energy.

Creeping between her thighs.

Seeding warmth down there…

What the hell is wrong with you?

Was this how Alexis had fallen under their thrall?

“Are you serious?” Tasha snapped in annoyance, trying to erase any trace of her weakness. “If I recall correctly, it wasn’t so long ago that your kind were terrorizing the Nine Galaxies. You are really asking me why humans don’t trust Kordolians?”

“I don’t know you, woman, but I agree with you,” Isla Tran blurted across the comm. She made a frantic gesture to someone—or something—off the holo.

Sit,she mouthed.

Sit?

What was up with this woman?

“Fair point,” Lodan said quietly.

“So convince me then,” Isla Tran insisted, pushing her thick goggles up over her forehead to reveal dark, narrowed eyes…

Well, one eye, because the other was covered by an eyepatch—a glittery purple one that was at odds with her tough, utilitarian appearance.

“We’re not what you think we are.” Lodan leaned back into his seat. “But I’m not going to waste time trying to convince you of something you’ll never believe.” His voice turned cold and hard. “You will give us what is ours. Virginie Descalles is under our protection now. Prepare to be boarded… peacefully. I do not like surprises, so do not give me any.”

“And if I say no?”

“You’ve got no choice,” Tasha said quickly, before Isla had the chance to provoke him into some pointless argument. “I appreciate what you’ve done for us at such short notice, but I think it’s best if you let this transfer happen smoothly… for all our sakes.”

Didn’t this woman understand that she was completely powerless against these aliens?

They could blast her ship right out the galaxy if they wanted. Scrap freighters had a reputation for being poorly maintained. Space-junk removal was a hazardous job. It wasn’t uncommon to hear of a scrap freighter collision or accidental loss of oxygen or sudden combustion.

Tasha didn’t want anything like that to happen.

Isla Tran’s eyes narrowed. “And who are you supposed to be, cyborg-girl?”

Tasha’s left eyebrow twitched. “Cyborg?”I’m a Helborg, actually. Named after the Norse goddess of death. There’s no such thing as a cyborg. “Did’t Kylian explain anything to you?”

“I can see your arms from here,” Isla said bluntly in English, revealing a broad Oceanian accent. “You’ve got machine seams. You’re full of blood-metal, aren’t you? What are you? Military? Private spec?”

“None of those,” Tasha snapped. “I’m one of the family, but if you really were with Kylian once upon a time, you should already know that.”

“So you’re Tasha, huh? Yeah, I’ve heard about you. I know you went missing when you were a kid,” Isla said calmly. “I’m glad you’re still alive, but… now you just suddenly show up after all these years with interface seams on your arms, surrounded by a whole bunch of killer aliens. Just one of the family, right?”

“Enough,” Lodan growled. “We’re boarding. Do not make this any more complicated than it needs to be, human. Prepare Virginie Descalles for departure.”

“Wait just a minute.” Isla held up her gloved hand. She spoke to someone in front of her. “Are you really okay with this? You seriously think we can trust them?” Her English went into a translator and came out as French.

Ah.She was talking to Mama.

“Let me go, Isla. You already know what we agreed to. This is not worth the trouble. You have your crew to look after… and I want to be with my children.”

After a long pause and some more off-screen communication, she turned back to them. “Fine,” she sighed at last. “I’m letting her go—and only because I’ve already spoken to Kylian and Felix, and she insists, and Ginny’s not an idiot. Bless her soul, she doesn’t want to get me in any trouble.” Unexpectedly, she laughed; a harsh, barking kind of laugh. “As if that’s going to happen. All right, aliens. Do your thing. It’s not as if I can do anything to stop you, and I’d rather keep the Iojojo intact, thank you very much. This fuel bill won’t pay for itself.”

Lodan ignored her nervous banter as he deftly maneuvered the controls. “Prepare your airlock. We will attach our extension.”

“Extension? Sorry, but I’m a total noob to Kordolian tech. Explain how it works. Your ship’s specs aren’t human-compatible. How could you possibly fit your hardware onto—”

“It will fit.” Lodan said nonchalantly as he pressed something on the instrument panel. “Compatibility isn’t a problem for us.” Suddenly, the entire flight-control apparatus thing detached from his body. Tasha stared in wonder as the visor-thing rose, revealing his brilliant golden eyes.

He stood, disengaging from the sensors, the hand-apparatus, and the throne-like chair with its dark, flexible fibers. “We’re here. Let’s go.”

We’re here? “Just like that?”

“Yes,” Lodan said.

“Then what do you need that team of soldiers for? You look like you’re preparing for some serious hostilities.”

The alien gave her a strange look. “We’re always preparing for hostilities, Tasha. It’s who we are. Come. I want yours to be the first face Virginie Descalles sees. For some reason, humans do not react well to us.” His fangs flashed dangerously. Was that an attempt at dry humor just now? “One more thing…”

Tasha started to rise, but she was held down in her seat by some irresistible force. It took her a moment to realize that she was still trapped by smooth obsidian restraints.

The Kordolian walked up to her and stared down, his golden eyes burning like embers.

Tasha went very, very still.

Then her entire body began to shake.

Once again, she was trapped against her will, only this time, her captor was an alien.

Not some expressionless, tight-lipped minion; some fucking handler following orders from their Praetorian bosses. No, the ones that worked for the Helborg Project couldn’t make her feel this way—terrified, mesmerized, and aroused, all at the same time.

“Tasha...” He curled her name around his tongue, shaping it with his strange alien accent. “So you just suddenly show up… after all these years?” He said the last part in precise, heavily accented English, shocking the hell out of her.

He speaks English?

I’m in deep shit.

“You understood us just now?”

“Yeah.” He leaned in so close she could make out the tiny flecks of brown in his irises. “And if you lie to me again, I’ll have no choice but to mark you as an enemy… and we aren’t in the habit of being nice to our enemies. Why do you have to lie, Tasha?”

Another lie automatically rose to the tip of her tongue. She bit it back. “Why does it matter?”

“I prefer to know all the facts before I make decisions.”

Decisions? What decisions?

She took a deep breath and forced her trembling hands to stillness. Fine. “We all lie.” She craned her neck forward and stared up at him, wanting to challenge him with every fiber of her being. Who the hell are you to ask me such a thing? “You wouldn’t know.”

“Know what?” His voice was soft and exquisitely dangerous.

Tasha became acutely aware of his closeness. A tendril of his scent wrapped around her, but it was far from comforting.

Fear fueled her anger. She strained powerfully against her unbreakable restraints, welcoming the pressure; welcoming the ever so slight sensation of pain.

Someone like you? You wouldn’t know!

Screw this guy.“You have no idea… what it’s like to question your reality all the time; to never know whether you’re being fed lies or truth, to become so paranoid that you somehow convince yourself your own lies are the truth… and you do it so often that you can’t tell the difference anymore, because all it takes is one slip of your tongue; one little fuckup, and suddenly everyone you care about is going to die, and they’ll throw you into the hole, into the darkness, and they’ll reduce you to something less than human… to nothing at all.” Tasha clenched her fists. She was shaking again. She wanted to break out there and punch the damn Kordolian in his beautiful silver face.

“Hm,” he murmured softly.

Hm?

Fucking hm? I tell you all that shit, and all you have to say is hm? Tasha’s chest heaved. She felt hot all over. The urge to punch him grew stronger, almost unbearably so, but she couldn’t do a thing.

It was the absolute worst.

The alien’s expression—both ice-cold and lit with the fury of a thousand suns—was one that no human could ever be capable of.

His nostrils flared. He took a slow, deep breath. “You’re bleeding,” he said, his voice silken and dangerously low.

Tasha became faintly aware of her palms, which were hot and wet and sticky.

She looked down…

And unclenched her fists. There was blood on her hands from where she’d dug her nails too hard into the skin of her palms.

Pain was there too… it was faint, but now that she was aware of the injury, she could feel it a little.

If only she weren’t so damn numb all the time.

“I will release you now,” the alien said, and there was something in his tone she’d never heard before… a sliver of… gentleness?

“Mosha,” he uttered.

Nothing happened.

Tasha stared at him in confusion. What did that mean? Was he talking to her? Let me out already, bastard!

Cold anger flickered across his face. “Mo-sha,” he commanded, more forcefully this time.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, her restraints peeled away.

Filled with pent-up fury and fear and confusion, Tasha sprung out of the chair, unable to control herself.

Her body spun out of control. Before she knew it, her clenched fist was flying toward the warrior’s face.

Crunch.

It connected.

It… connected?

Oops.

She’d expected him to dodge it. He was lightning fast. He could have easily dodged it.

Heart pounding, Tasha took a hasty backwards step. Her knuckles stung faintly. Black blood started to trickle from his left nostril. The bridge of his nose was out of line. Had she… broken it?

Now I’ve done it. He’s going to kill me.

But to her surprise, he just lifted his hand and wiped the blood away. Before her very eyes, his nose started to straighten. A swarm of obsidian… stuff rippled beneath his skin, quickly disappearing as his nose bent back into perfect straightness.

Tasha stifled a gasp. Something about him… he was also… not normal.

“You think I wouldn’t know? Don’t be presumptuous, human. You know nothing about us… about me.” The last traces of anger disappeared from his face, leaving something else in their wake.

Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

It was almost like… he was being completely open right now.

“W-why didn’t you dodge?” she whispered. “I’ve seen how you move. You would have seen that coming from a mile away.”

To her astonishment, his lips quirked. “Well, you clearly needed to punch someone. I need you to be calm when we board that human junk-ship. Humans are skittish. If they see you furious like that, they will think we’re about to do bad things to them.”

“H-how did you know I wanted to punch you in the face?”

He chuckled. “Sometimes, you are more obvious than a blazing comet in the skies of Kythia. You think I don’t know a decent killing intent when I see one? That’s the third strike you’ve dealt me now. If you weren’t so good at controlling your reactions, you would have done a lot worse.”

“You healed…” She couldn’t stop staring at his face, which had become perfect again. Even the blood had disappeared.

“I did,” he replied cryptically. “And maybe I know more about distorted realities than you think. Now that you have gotten that out of your system, you will do whatever it takes to convince these humans that we are really not out to force them into slavery or devour their hearts.”

“Devouring hearts? That is something your kind… do?”

“Occasionally,” he said as he glanced over his shoulder, his expression completely deadpan. Either he had a really, really dry sense of humor, or she was missing something.

Tasha had seen and done some terrible things, but eating hearts?

That was just fucked up.

“Don’t worry, we wouldn’t usually do it to humans. Your kind don’t deserve it.”

“Huh.” Rubbing her battered knuckles, Tasha followed the warrior through the unravelling door and into the darkness beyond, resolving to never again tell a lie to this dangerous, confusing-as-hell, irritatingly perfect, heart-devouring creature, who hadn’t yet lifted a finger to hurt her, even though he could if he wanted—so very easily.

Nothing made sense anymore.

Was everything she’d learned about Kordolians a lie?