Nick held his breath and tried to steady his mind.

Coming out of stasis was always difficult, but he was having a harder time than he’d ever had before. The halls blurred before his eyes and his body weight seemed to ebb and flow.

He wondered, not for the first time, how long he’d been out.

His last memory before waking up was of Captain Reese. The normally confident leader had worn an expression of utter terror.

“Something’s wrong, Nick,” he heard her say, an octave above her normally husky voice. “Something’s coming…”

There had been whispers. Crewmembers had been scuttling around for days. There were unexplained minor power outages, and a general sense of unease among the professionals who manned the craft.

Of course, none of them had seen fit to discuss their concerns with the head of security.

Nick was a barbarian, a distinction he was never once permitted to forget, no matter how long he worked among other species, or how easily he took on their forms and habits. Whatever the problems on the ship, the humans had preferred to hedge their bets alone rather than engaging the help of the likes of him.

Their gamble had obviously not paid off. When he came out of his post-stasis haze, it was clear that Nick was the only living thing on the ship.

And then he wasn’t.

Something’s coming…

He heard footsteps and the sound of low voices down the long corridor. Something was already there.

Nick knew he ought to hole himself up somewhere and recover, but he had never been good at avoiding trouble. It seemed to come looking for him, and it never found him lacking in the bravery needed to face it head on.

At least, he thought of it as bravery. His brothers often teased him with less flattering terms.

They were endlessly amused by the situations he got himself into. If someone heard that a barbarian had gotten himself into a duel with a Warblanix outside a bar in an intergalactic safe zone, or that someone had been jumped at a Mondalvian fueling center, his brothers joked that they would know it was him before hearing the details.

He scanned the corridor for a porthole, suddenly wondering if his brothers were okay. They were on the other two cruise ships moving in tandem to this one.

But the ornate carpet and chestnut wainscoting seemed to go on for miles without a bit of glass or view.

Just ahead though, an open door allowed a triangle of light to spill out into the hall. He guessed that was where the voices were coming from.

He slowed his pace and tried to flatten himself to the wall as much as his large form would allow. He thought of shifting, but he was still disoriented, and didn’t want to add to the effect by altering his form.

His stomach lurched as gravity suddenly released its hold on him and he left the ground.

He sailed a few feet before landing hard in the threshold of the open door, effectively ruining his chance to observe the intruder surreptitiously.

He pulled his body into a crouch, preparing to land in a ready state.

Her scent drifted to him.

Before he could fully take in the scene, something locked up in his chest.

My mate…

He fumbled his landing, but caught his balance at the last moment, scanning the room and finding her against the far wall.

A haze seemed to surround the woman, though he couldn’t be sure whether it was his post-stasis symptoms or the mating thrall.

He could see that she was young, with soft tendrils of blonde hair drifting to her chest.

As his vision came into focus, at last he saw the spark of bravery in her bright blue eyes.

Just before it hit him that she was human.

His senses reeled with the pleasure of observing her even as his mind recoiled from what she was.

Mate.

His heart spoke again, and he found himself horrified and attracted in nearly equal measures.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

The alto timbre of her voice slid over his ear like a carnal caress. She wasn’t scared, or if she was, she hid it well.

Brave mate, his heart noted approvingly. Bravery was a prized quality among his kind.

“I’m the head security officer of this ship,” he volleyed back automatically. “Who are you?”

A fleeting expression crossed her face and he took a closer look at her.

She wore simple clothing, too simple to match her class, if her posture were any indication of her birth.

A loose holster slung around her hips told him she might be a threat.

But the holster’s contents told him something worse.

Not a weapon, but some type of inventory tagger.

Taggers were the tools of privateers who made their petty fortunes stealing from the wreckage of the unoccupied vessels that littered the stars after the Earth sent her first colonizers to the skies. They used the taggers to put their marks on all the inventory and then their utility drones came back to carry it away.

For all her pretty hair and brave eyes, she was nothing more than a scavenger, here to steal from the ship he was tasked to protect.

“This ship is occupied,” he told her. “You can’t loot it.”

“Well, I know that now,” she said.

He glowered at her and she scowled right back.

He was suddenly reminded of his grandmother, a tiny woman with a ferocious glare.

“Where is everyone?” the woman demanded.

“I detect no other living beings on this ship,” a man’s voice said.

Nick nearly jumped out of his skin until he realized it was only the drone hovering near the woman’s left shoulder.

“What about the other two ships?” Nick asked.

The drone buzzed softly.

“My apologies, my comms appear to be down,” the little robot said at last.

“Don’t apologize to him,” the woman said. “You don’t work for him.”

“Quite right, my dear,” the little drone said. “Apology rescinded.”

“I’m not your dear,” she pointed out. She turned her attention back to Nick. “So, what’s the deal? What happened here?”

“I… don’t know,” Nick admitted. “I just woke up from stasis.”