CHAPTER NINE

SYREK

Syrek’s mood was as black as the grease covering his hands and chest. After spending a day scraping rust out of old pipes, his muscles ached and his head pounded. All he wanted was a bath and a good meal. He rubbed at his skin with a rag as he pushed open his door. The last person he ever expected to find in his room squeaked in panic as he entered.

He froze, his body propping the door open, and took in Mara’s wide eyes and parted lips. Her hands held sheets, and he noted the pile of folded laundry sitting beside the bed. His eyes flicked back to hers, but it was too late.

By breaking eye contact, he had broken the spell pinning her in place. She shook the sheet onto the bed, and darted around him, pushing past. He made no effort to stop her, even though where her shoulder brushed his chest, his skin tingled.

As she left, he closed the door behind her. The room seemed darker now. He paused for a second, trying to remember what he had been doing before he’d stumbled onto Mara. His head remained foggy. All he could think of was the way she melted into him, the way his hands found her curves, the way…

Accursed moons!

He threw the greasy rag against the wall, and noted with dispassionate interested that not only had she made the bed and folded his clothes, but she had also cleaned up the spilled wine. Somehow, it gnawed at him that it was Clez’s wine but Mara had cleaned it. He tossed the greasy rag into the laundry basket in the bathroom.

All the words he should have said haunted him. His father would have taken Mara’s servitude for granted, which was all the more reason he should have apologized. He should have thanked her. He should have begged her to stay.

But Syrek was not raised to beg.

To be honest though, if it meant she would curl her lush body against his, Syrek was willing to drop to his knees and kiss her feet. And other parts of her.

Every part of her, he amended.

Yet, he couldn’t ignore the giant warning signs flashing in his brain. His desire for Mara was misguided and misplaced. Nothing but bad times lay down that road.

Focus on Haven. She needs you.

After a good scrubbing with cleansing foam, he stepped out of the bathroom cleaner, but unsettled. Now that the coolant had been redirected, the living areas were no longer dangerous. That meant he could direct his attention to the next pressing matter: what to do with the humans.

He sat at his desk, and pulled out his comm. He sat for a moment, debating with himself. He should call the Ykine and arrange a pickup for the PETL Cells. Ykine were not known for their reasonableness or patience. Haven needed their money, and every day that ticked by meant another day of failing systems.

Instead, he found himself calling his contact on New Trades. Jrak answered, and when he spotted Syrek, he smiled widely, revealing his sharp canines. “Why, if it isn’t my second favorite Ennoi, Syrek Ar’Zathis!”

“Second favorite?” Syrek raised an eyebrow. “In all matters, the Ar’Zathis come first.”

“Second favorite, only because I pay you for your services. My first favorite Ennoi pays me.” Jrak fluttered his golden eyelashes at Syrek. “You could move up in the ranks, you know.”

“Maybe today is that day.”

Jrak straightened, his playful demeanor vanished in a flash and he was all business. “What do you need?”

“Depends on how much it will cost me.”

“Depends on how much you want.”

“Fair enough,” Syrek said. “I need some information. Went on this mission the other day.”

“Who hired you?”

Syrek smirked. “Nice try, but that’s confidential. We… encountered some Sykorians. Know anything about humans?”

Jrak hissed. “Stop right there.” His eyes narrowed and he ran a hand across one of his high cheekbones. He tapped a finger on his chin, studying Syrek. “I’m not going to charge you for what I am about to say, but I will expect you to listen closely.”

Syrek leaned back. His spine tingled. While Jrak had a flirty attitude, he had always been straightforward and businesslike in their dealings. Something about this conversation had shaken Jrak, and his nervousness seemed to spread to Syrek. “Go on.”

“You do not want to ask too many questions about humans. Don’t get involved with humans.”

Syrek leaned forward. “Why?”

“They are bad news. If you are involved with Sykorians and humans, find a way to not be involved.”

Syrek frowned. “Can you provide further explanation?”

Jrak sucked his teeth in irritation. “You Ennoi. Never listen. How long have we been doing business?”

The question took Syrek aback. “A few decades?”

“And before I dealt with you, I dealt with your father. The Ar’Zathris have been good to me. And to my wallet,” Jrak said. “Which is why I’m telling you to drop this business.”

“The business with humans?”

“The mercenary business,” Jrak said.

Syrek shook his head. “You know that’s not happening.”

“It’s not healthy,” Jrak said. He dropped a shoulder and pouted. “A big gorgeous boy like you shouldn’t be involved in such dirty work. You should settle down.”

Syrek laughed. “Find a wife and raise some kids?”

“No, not like that. I can’t think of a single woman who would want you.”

Jrak was being flippant, but the words still stung after Mara’s panic at seeing him. “Then how?”

“Settle down into a steady job. I know a legitimate businessman. An Ennoi even. He’s looking to expand his shipping business. I could put you two in touch? For a small fee, of course.”

“No,” Syrek said, flatly. “This is all I know. This is all I do.”

“If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

“I do. The next time I’m at New Trades, I’ll bring you some more Temanzyme.” Over the past decade or so, Syrek had been bringing Jrak the life-saving drug for his other Ennoi client, a man Syrek did not know.

“Don’t need any more.”

“Why? Your client die?”

“No. Worse.”

“What could be worse than dying?”

“He fell in love.”

With a shrug and a wave, Jrak hung up, leaving Syrek pondering everything he had said. Retire from the mercenary business? He tried to picture it: coming home to a warm house, with a sweet wife waiting to kiss him by the door. A few children running underfoot. In his vision, his wife had long brown hair, dark skin and brown eyes…

He shook away the daydream. Syrek was as far from domestic as possible. He intended to die on his feet, in the thick of a firefight, instead of in his bed, surrounded by bored relatives faking tears while they waited for a cut of their inheritance.

He was still thinking about the implications of retiring when his comm buzzed again. Syrek cursed. The Ykine liaison.

“Of all the lousy timing…”

The blinking light on the comm mocked his indecision. His father would never have hesitated. Zathlassan would have ensured he fulfilled his contracts, and would have slept soundly each night, knowing he was master of his kingdom. Syrek could not, and would not, do the same. Lives were at stake.

Haven needed him.

He had stalled for long enough.

Time to get it over with.

He flicked on the comms, and bowed to the tall insect-like creature on the screen. “Greetings, Dignitary Ukali.”

The dignitary resembled the Ykine workers Syrek saw in the background, but the resemblance ended there. While the workers were mindless automatons, programmed to obey, Ukali had been favored by his Queen. She allowed him to develop his own mind, so he could serve as her liaison with the outside world. Syrek knew this because he had researched the Ykine as soon as they had contacted him with a job offer.

Ukali chittered, moving his mandibles, and the translator in Syrek’s ear filled in his words. “According to our sources, the Sykorian ship did not reach its destination. Do you have the ship, Mercenary Syrek?”

Syrek nodded. “I do, Dignitary Ukali.” He paused for a second. “However, there is a complication.”

“Complication?” Ukali’s antenna waved, and his many faceted eyes twitched. “Complications? We do not pay you for complications.”

You haven’t paid me at all so far, Syrek thought.

“A minor complication,” he assured the Ykine liaison.

“So you say, Syrekayan Ar’Zathris, but we Ykine have many years of dealing with your kind.”

Syrek raised an eyebrow. “My kind?” He didn’t bother to hide the edge in his voice.

“Mercenaries,” clarified the Ykine.

“There are many mercenaries in this universe,” Syrek said. “Yet, the Ykine Queen chose me. And you know why? Because I’m Ennoi. I live and die by my honor. You know this, Dignitary. My word is my bond. I will not fail you.”

“Yet, there is a complication,” said Ukali.

“I never said it was a complication for me,” Syrek replied. “Instead of the five PETL Cells you hired me to acquire, I acquired nearly a hundred.”

For a second, the Ykine was speechless. “A hundred?”

“Nearly.”

“This changes matters.”

“It does indeed,” Syrek said, tucking his hands behind his head. He wasn’t certain why the Ykine needed the cells, but he was betting they would take the lot. “Which is why I propose a small amendment to our contract. Instead of delivering the cells, you come to Haven instead. You can claim your original five, and also negotiate the terms for the larger bounty.”

The liaison agreed immediately. “I shall come in person.”

Perfect.

It was exactly the outcome for which Syrek had hoped. By making the Ykine liaison travel to him, Syrek had bought some extra time to figure out what to do with the human sleepers. Plus he had ensured he would receive a larger payment, because if the Ykine were desperate enough to come to him, they would be desperate enough to pay through the nose for the PETL Cells.

By the time Ukali gets here, the mess will be handled.

“It will be a pleasure to see you,” Syrek said, leaning forward to end the transmission. His finger hovered over the button, when Ukali spoke again.

“Of course, I will not come alone,” Ukali said.

Syrek froze, and his eyes flicked to the Ykine’s inscrutable face. “Of course not, Dignitary Ukali. I will prepare chambers for your party.”

“No, Syrekayan Ar’Zathris, you misunderstand me,” Ukali said. “I will come with an army. If you step out of line. If you give us any indication that you bargain in bad faith, we will decimate your people. Farewell.”

Syrek’s blood ran cold. At any other time, the Ykine’s threat would have been laughable. Haven was a fortress at the best of times. Right now, times were not the best. With the coolant crisis, the weapons were offline. The Ykine could destroy Haven if the whim took them.

His fists clenched.

No, I will not let them threaten me.

No matter what it took, if he had to protect Haven, he knew he would make the correct choices.