CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

SYREK

The number of credits flashing on his account balance made Syrek’s pulse race, but the zeroes were not enough to fill the void beneath his sternum. His gaze moved from the banking screen back to the screen beside it, where a camera picked up the activity in Hangar 1576. The Sykorian ship sat in the empty dock, waiting for the Ykine to arrive and collect their new belongings.

Behind him, the rest of the bridge crew shuffled their feet. The Ykine warship made them nervous, especially with the heavy artillery of Haven down. Not to mention how quickly it had arrived. Syrek’s eyes flicked back to the banking screen, and he puffed out his breath when the message flashed on screen: funds cleared.

The crew felt the change in his posture, but they remained silent, their attention riveted to the monitors. On screen, the Ykine clearly received the same message. A flurry of movement appeared as Ykine workers streamed through the airlock. The insect-like creatures hurried to the Sykorian ship, and Syrek knew they searched for any signs of tampering or sabotage.

He brought his knuckle to his mouth, his eyes moving as he tried to follow the movement of each worker. With a press of a button, the second monitor switched to an interior shot of the ship. The Ykine scurried over the cryo-beds, peering inside to study each sleeper.

They won’t find anything, Syrek thought. There was nothing to find.

The Ykine must have been satisfied with the levels of security on the ship, because the airlock bustled with movement again. This time, four burly soldiers entered, followed by the frail form of the Ykine liaison. In real life, Dignitary Ukali struggled under the weight of his robes, and he wobbled as he meandered his way to the Sykorian ship.

“Syrek. I must speak with you.”

“One moment, Ancain.” Syrek followed Ukali’s progress across the bay.

“Syrek, it cannot wait.”

Ancain’s voice held enough heat for Syrek to turn his focus from the monitor. He raised an eyebrow at Ancain. “What is wrong, Ancain?”

Ancain leaned closer, pitching his voice low, but they were both aware of the many ears listening behind them. “This.” He gestured to the screen. “This cannot happen.”

With a wave of dismissal, Syrek returned to the screen. “It is already done.”

“No,” Ancain seized Syrek by the shoulder, pulling him back into the conversation. “Syrek, where is your Ennoi sense of honor? This is not right!”

“If you want an Ennoi with honor, there are a couple million of them about two systems over. I am sure if you inform them of the situation, they will bend space and time to do the right thing. The honorable thing.”

“This is wrong! Syrek, this is cruel. You cannot let this happen.”

Through narrowed eyes, Syrek studied Ancain. “I can, and I will, do as I please, Ancain. Remove your hand.”

“Void take you, Syrek!” Ancain dropped his hand. “We are not slavers! We never have been.”

That provoked an empty laugh from Syrek. “What are you talking about, Ancain? You know Haven has a long, healthy history of slave trading.”

“Those days are gone. Haven is your ship now.”

The urge to end the conversation outweighed any conversational niceties. “You are correct. Haven is my ship. She is mine. My will upon this ship is law.”

“What? That’s not-”

“And what I will, is for you to stop harping on me. This conversation is done, Ancain.”

Ancain snorted in frustration. “Fine, Syrek. But tread lightly. You are barging into unknown territory and that carries consequences.”

“Is that a threat?”

“No,” Ancain replied. “A warning.”

His second-in-command, and the closest thing to a friend he had, stormed away, leaving Syrek to ponder the weight of Ancain’s words as he watched the monitors.

He frowned. Controlled by the hive brain, the Ykine all raised their heads to peer in the same direction, studying something off screen. Syrek leaned closer. Had they heard a noise? The soldiers moved between Ukali and the unknown.

A figure swaggered onto the screen. Syrek recognized Clez immediately. Nobody else on Haven strutted with the same arrogance. Except this time, she hauled something along beside her. In her right hand, she held…

No.

Syrek’s blood froze in his veins.

Mara.

Mara seemed to be dragging her heels as Clez led her to the Ykine, but the knife at her throat made her comply. Syrek’s fingers tightened on the corner of the monitor.

No, no, no.

“What is she doing?” Ancain had returned to his side, and he stared at the monitor. “She is insane.”

They watched at Clez shouted toward the soldiers. Finally, they stepped aside, and Dignitary Ukali seemed to be answering Clez’s questions. Even without sound, it was clear what occurred.

“She’s selling Mara,” Ancain whispered.

No!

Mine!

Syrek’s blood began to boil. He turned and thundered out of the bridge. He had only made it as far as the external corridor, when Ancain’s voice stopped him. “Take a vehicle. It’ll be faster.”

Though anger clouded his mind, he knew Ancain was right. A short detour to the docks saw him kitted with a hover quad. Better yet, the compact machine had a warning siren, and Haven’s crew scattered as he roared past.

I’ll kill them all if they touch her.

He pushed the vehicle to its limits, and by the time he skidded to a halt in front of Hangar 1576, the engine smoked and the air reeked of burning oil. The engine wasn’t the only thing burning. It felt like his blood had become pure molten magma. All over his body, his scales danced like leaves caught in the wind.

The door sat slightly ajar, where Clez and Mara had entered, and Syrek peered inside. Clez stood to the side, juggling her knife, while Mara crouched at her feet. He wanted to stroke her bowed head, but when she lifted her face, Syrek saw the determined set of her jaw. She wasn’t beaten yet.

Clez clucked in anger at something Ukali said, and shook her head hard enough to send feathers floating down to Mara.

Seems like Dignitary Ukali is driving a hard bargain.

Syrek slipped between the door and strolled across the bay floor. Every inch of his body felt hot, as if he carried the heat of a sun in his chest. If he opened his mouth, fire might spill out. His hands itched for his weapons, if only the hidden blades from his mercenary suit. After looking at the creatures swarming the Sykorian ship, he wondered if bug spray might be better for the job.

Caution, he reminded himself. Do not rush into battle. Caution will keep Mara alive.

“That one,” he called out, his voice loud and even, “is not for sale.”

Heads whipped around to face him, but Syrek ignored the Ykine, keeping his gaze locked on Dignitary Ukali’s withered form. As if sensing his rage, the workers poured down, building a wall of segmented bodies between Syrek and the liaison.

Out of the corner of his eye, Syrek saw Mara straighten, and Clez step back. He didn’t vary his pace, just carried on walking like he had all the time in the world. He pulled up next to Clez and Mara, and, eyes still forward, he tilted his head to Mara.

“Are you unharmed?” His voice stayed low, though he knew the Ykine listened.

“Yes,” she said.

He tipped his chin slightly higher, and Clez shuffled her feet. “You know you will be punished for this, Clez.”

She barked in short, mirthless laughter. “If I am to suffer over a dung-eater like this one, then you will be expected to suffer a hundred times over for what you have done here.” She jerked her chin at the Sykorian ship. “I’m not the only one dealing in slaves. I’m just being open about it.”

Any reply Syrek would have made was lost in Dignitary Ukali’s approach. The elderly Ykine’s antennae waved. “It appears you spoke true, Syrek Ar’Zathris. My gratitude for revealing this incomparable business opportunity.”

Syrek dipped his head. His hands itched to wrap around the ancient insect’s throat, but he smiled as ingratiatingly as he could. “It is always a pleasure to work with such efficient clients. Your payment was prompt and we appreciate it.” He snapped his fingers at Mara, who scrambled to her feet. “We will leave you to collect your… items. We must be on our way.”

Mara pressed against his side, and through the fabric of her overalls and his coat, he felt her tremble. He took her hand, and tucked it into the nook of his elbow. With an elegant bow, he turned and swept her away.

“What are you doing?” Mara hissed. “What about my friends?”

“I’m trying to save you,” Syrek replied. “Shut up and act casual.”

“Please wait,” Ukali’s reedy voice echoed after them. “I have already purchased that one.”

Syrek’s back stiffened, and they stopped mid-stride. He turned slightly, keeping himself between Mara and the Ykine. Movement at their sides told him the Ykine were positioning themselves to surround Syrek and Mara.

“There has been some misunderstanding,” Syrek said. “This human is not for sale.”

“Ah,” Ukali said. “But the funds have been transferred. It is done.”

The look Syrek shot Clez would have melted a lesser woman into the ground, but she crossed her arms and glared back.

“Return the money, Clez,” Syrek ground out through gritted teeth. “You should not have offered what was not yours to give.”

“Make me.” Through his eyes only, Syrek promised Clez a world of hurt. She saw his intention, and she stepped back, but kept her head up. “I need that money, Syrek.”

“I can reimburse you, Clez. With interest. Return the money.”

She shook her head, sending her feathers fluttering. “I want nothing more from you. Nor will I take your pity money.”

“You misunderstand,” Dignitary Ukali said. “We do not want the money back. We want the human. A complete set. Otherwise, the Sykorians will ask awkward and unnecessary questions. She comes with us. Not for negotiation.”

At his command, one of the Ykine soldiers marched forward. Before he could grab Mara, Syrek shoved him back. The Ykine workers surround them rattled their limbs, a skittering noise of warning.

If they attack… He dropped his eyes to Mara’s face. Her usually glowing cheeks were pale. She felt him watching and met his eyes. The fear in her face made his choice for him.

“Wait,” Syrek said, raising his hand in a gesture of peace. “We can talk this through. We need not resort to violence.”

Ukali snorted. “You are in no position to bargain, Syrek Ar’Zathris. Aboard my ship, an entire nest of Ykine wait in hibernation for my command. One word from me, and they will swarm your ship, killing everyone. We hold all the advantages here.”

An Ykine nest could contain hundreds of thousands of spawn. On a ship as big as the liaison’s, that number could multiply exponentially. Syrek’s nostrils flared. It was not an idle threat.

The ancient alien turned and began to hobble away. “Bring the girl.” The Ykine soldier glowered and reached out his clawed appendage. Syrek tucked Mara behind his arm. She clung to the fabric of his shirt, her breath coming in little gasps.

Syrek’s body vibrated, as if he were a plucked string on a troeben, sending out one deep note. “Please.”

The word did not come easily. He had never been the kind to plead. His father had never allowed him to show that level of weakness. Nor had he, in his years as a mercenary, had the chance to show it. Usually, he was the one driving the bargains, and others accepted his terms.

“What did you say?” Ukali turned. The soldier halted his approach, waiting for his master’s word.

“Please,” Syrek said. “She is my Avowed.”

Ukali’s head cocked. “Your Avowed? I did not realize humans and Ennoi could mate.”

“Show mercy.” Syrek licked his lips. “Let her go.”

“She is your Avowed,” Ukali said, tapping his chin with his tarsus. “This changes matters, of course.”

Relief coursed through Syrek’s body.

Before he could speak, Ukali continued on. “Yes, this changes matters indeed. If I take the girl, you will come after us. You will stop at nothing to reclaim your Avowed. It is the nature of the Ennoi.”

The old alien started back toward the airlock. “So you understand why I must do this.”

“What’s happening?” Mara whispered. “What’s an Avowed?”

“Do what?” Syrek asked Ukali.

Ukali spared one last glance over his shoulder before addressing his soldiers. “Bring the girl. Kill the Ennoi.”