Chapter One
Taken: Year 3.9
“Princess, we will enter Tolanis airspace soon.” Nebin’s deep voice came through the speaker by her headrest, loud and clear.
“Thank you, Nebin.” Princess Sa’Mya Lacolil of Laconia did her best to contain her excitement. She had never been to Tolanis. In honesty, the only other place she’d ever been aside from her home planet was the moon Sonis.
Unfortunately she wouldn’t be able to explore Tolanis, a midsized planet known for its advances in technology. Uncle Umar had posted a notice describing her as a distraught runaway. Every species looking to increase the number of credits in their accounts would be after her to claim the reward.
Nebin had assured her she would go undetected if she obeyed him. And she would. He was her trusted guard, the guard her deceased father had appointed to watch over her since birth. Of all those in her life whom she had loved, Nebin was the only one still living.
Nebin sat next to Moira, her personal assistant, at the controls in the front of the five-seat transporter. Neither provided her a backward glance as they focused on guiding the transporter to Tolanis. As far as Moira was concerned they would spend a few rotations on Tolanis, when in fact, she and Nebin would only spend a few short hours then from there, they would rendezvous with another vessel that would take them to Prysvinta, their final destination for the time being.
Sa’Mya sat in one of the uncomfortable seats in the rear. Since she was the sole owner Mercanis Shipping and Hauling, the largest transport company in the galaxy, she had thousands of vessels to choose from. But during their escape Nebin had opted for a small, inconspicuous vessel, one that would go under her uncle’s radar. According to Nebin, a larger vessel would have alerted her uncle’s guards with a quick recapture to follow.
She initiated the intercom. “Has there been any more communication from my uncle?”
“I have not seen any indication,” Nebin said. “Moira, have you caught anything?”
“No, Umar has not made contact,” Moira replied.
“As if you would tell me if he had, Moira,” Sa’Mya whispered under her breath. It’s because of you that my uncle knows my every move.
Sa’Mya narrowed her eyes as she watched the back of Moira’s head. The severe bun Moira always wore reflected her personality. Moira was traitorous to say the least. Her uncle had promoted Moira from a menial factory position to serve as her personal assistant.
Two cycles ago Moira had “appeared” in Sa’Mya’s private rooms. Where is Medina? Sa’Mya had asked. Huffing, Moira had replied that she was Sa’Mya’s new assistant. Sa’Mya hadn’t seen Medina, her previous personal assistant and friend since.
Although she and Moira were the same age, Moira looked ten times older. Wrinkles outlined Moira’s features. Her nose resembled a bird’s beak and her eyes were too small and too close together to be considered attractive.
Moira’s upgrade in lifestyle and expensive clothing did nothing to disguise her hard disposition. Sa’Mya couldn’t remember if she had ever seen Moira smile. Laugh? Definitely not.
Sa’Mya squeezed her eyes shut and gave her head a slight shake. Sensing the change in her mood, Yazmine, her new maid, whispered soothing words in her ear. In the short time she had known Yazmine, Sa’Mya had come to count on her in more ways than one. Yazmine had also whispered words of comfort after King Taio had reneged on his and Sa’Mya’s bonding contract.
She hadn’t exactly minded that there wouldn’t be a match between herself and the fierce warrior. She’d understood the bond would have been in name only. King Taio would have gotten the much needed financial support his thriving new world needed and she would have gained safety and protection from Uncle Umar. But it had hurt nonetheless. Her composure had remained intact while he gave her the news, but behind closed doors she had wept on Yazmine’s shoulder.
Sa’Mya was grateful King Taio had agreed to let Yazmine leave Sonis with her. It was the least he could have done for sending Sa’Mya on her way while he trounced around the galaxy trying to find his pregnant human lover, Eva.
Yazmine, in a word, was beautiful. Every time Sa’Mya looked upon Yazmine, she found something new and appealing.
While they were both the same height, Yazmine was slender compared to Sa’Mya’s own curvy frame. They both shared waist-length hair. Where hers fell in uncontrollable waves of deep gold, Yazmine’s hung straight in a fall of glossy black with gold streaks. And while they shared the same golden tone the inhabitants of the sand planets in the Zaronna System were famous for, Yazmine’s skin was brighter compared to Sa’Mya’s.
“Yazmine.” Sa’Mya hooked her leg across her right armrest. She’d chosen the perfect dress for the trip, the one with slits that ran up both sides to mid-hip.
From her seat next to Sa’Mya, Yazmine initiated the semi-privacy screen that separated the back from the front. Over the hum of the transporter engine came the click of Yazmine’s safety harness. Yazmine’s deft fingers sliding in and out of her would be the welcome distraction she needed and the one thing that could possibly make the short trip bearable.
Nothing else relaxed her quicker. And after what she’d been through these past lunar cycles, she needed some relaxing. King Taio had reneged and Uncle Umar pursued her relentlessly, not intending to shower her with hugs and gifts either.
She was running for her life.
Yazmine kneeled in front of her, positioning herself between Sa’Mya’s open legs. Sa’Mya watched as Yazmine lifted her gown to expose her bare pussy. Normally Sa’Mya wouldn’t have dared let Yazmine expose her in such an open display of wanton need. But no one watched, so she would allow Yazmine to pleasure her any way she pleased.
Without warning, the vessel slowed abruptly. The safety harness constricted, locking Sa’Mya in place. As it bit into her torso, air was forced from her lungs and Yazmine tumbled from between her legs.
Sa’Mya’s eyes flew open as she gasped for air. Her vision swam in front of her, pain coursed up her spine. They had stopped.
What’s going on? Tracking beam. Uncle Umar?
Sa’Mya’s heart slammed against her chest as she fumbled for the harness release lever. She grasped and pulled.
Nothing happened.
Strangling, she struggled for another breath. None would enter her gaping mouth.
She tried the release lever again. Her lungs were on fire. In total panic, Sa’Mya yanked with all her might.
Finally, with a click, the lever released. Sa’Mya fell forward to her hands and knees, gasping for air. Her hair framed her face. She tried to focus. Alarm bells rang in the background.
Sa’Mya closed her eyes and fought the blurriness. She inhaled and her lungs burned. The second breath cooled the sensation of the first, but not by much.
A throbbing pain magnified across her skull. Her head spun slightly.
With a shaky hand, she stabilized her arm against the seat. Even though her harness no longer restricted her, she still struggled to breathe. Her gaze darted around the compartment. Yazmine slumped, unconscious, by the wall.
Lead filled her limbs as she crawled to Yazmine. Sa’Mya pushed aside locks of Yazmine’s hair to check the side of her neck for a pulse. It was there, but weak and thready. Yazmine’s breathing was too slow.
“Wh…what happened?” Yazmine murmured as Sa’Mya leaned her against the wall.
“I don’t know. How do you feel?”
Yazmine placed a shaky hand on her chest. “I’m having trouble breathing.”
“Stay here. I’ll be back.” She focused her attention to the front, where yelling voices sounded distant although they were mere steps away.
Sa’Mya staggered to her feet and pushed the privacy screen to the side.
“Princess, stay fastened.” Nebin snapped his head to look at her. His gray eyes scanned her from top to bottom before turning.
She ignored his command and entered the cockpit. Nebin could scold her later. Her legs threatened to buckle underneath her more than once. Sa’Mya made the last wobbly step with outstretched hands and grabbed the back of Moira’s chair for support. She made it by sheer determination.
“What in blazes is going on here?” Sa’Mya dug her nails in the leather headrest. She feared her legs would no longer support her weight.
Preoccupied with tending to the lights, sirens and beeps that filled the control console, neither Nebin nor Moira answered her. Sa’Mya opened her mouth to ask them again, but nothing came out.
Sa’Mya gripped the headrest as her vision swam. The contents of her breakfast crept up her throat. Her lungs still burned. With every breath she took, she fought for air.
Moira whipped around. “Princess, we are losing air pressure. Sit down.”
“What can I do to help?” Sa’Mya mumbled.
“We can’t get away from them.” Nebin’s voice seemed far away.
Get away from who? Uncle Umar?
Stumbling, Sa’Mya reached out, but caught empty air. She tried again. Her mind clouded and her vision closed in. She thought she heard the distant sound of Moira’s scream before everything went dark.