La’Rue started to shake her head. “No… not really,” she muttered, looking away from the screen.
“Rue, you know what Aires does when he doesn’t get his cargo. I might be able to renegotiate with Bogs, but Aires won’t budge. I need your help,” Slate pleaded.
“La’Rue. My name is La’Rue. You can’t call me Rue anymore. I don’t have much left thanks to your last screw up, Slate, but I do have a lead on something that could pay off. If – and it is a big IF – I’m successful, you’ve got to swear you will never contact me again,” she stated.
“I swear, La’Rue. If you help me this time, I’ll pay you back and never contact you again,” he swore. “I love you, Rue. I always will. Contact me when you have the credits. I have to go now.”
Sergi watched the light from the tablet in La’Rue’s hand grow dark. She tossed it to the side and fell back against the pillow. He watched as she lifted her arm and covered her eyes and groaned.
“If only I didn’t need the credits,” she whispered, her voice filled with regret.
Her soft words hit him harder than he would have expected. He silently stepped away from her door and pressed his back against the wall. Closing his eyes, he let her betrayal wash through him.
He opened his eyes when he heard the bathroom door in her cabin open and close. Stepping away from the wall, he shot a quick look into her cabin to make sure she wasn’t in it before he passed by the door and continued down the corridor.
At the end of the long passage, he descended the ladder to the lower section of the freighter. Within seconds, he was on the circular platform as it descended from the ship’s belly to the ground. Luckily, the rain had slowed to a light mist.
Drawing from his memory of the map that La’Rue had shown him earlier, he oriented himself to his surroundings. Once he was confident he knew which direction to travel in, he pressed the button to close the lift.
“Good luck, my beautiful but deceitful alien,” Sergi murmured. “Perhaps one day we will meet again.”
He pulled up the collar of his jacket and silently left the shelter of the freighter, disappearing into the night.
Chapter Nine
“I can’t believe he left!” La’Rue growled, storming down the corridor to the platform. “H! Where are you?”
La’Rue grabbed the stun rod from its charger. She scowled at HL-9 when the robot suddenly appeared. There was no telling how long Sergi had been gone.
“Make sure nothing happens to my freighter,” she ordered, stepping onto the platform.
The robot’s eyes flickered in acknowledgement. She pressed the button and held on as the platform lowered to the ground. She had already scanned the area to make sure it was clear, but it never hurt to be extra cautious.
Clutching the stun rod in her hand, she set out in the direction of the city. If she was lucky, she’d find the fuel rods that she needed and Sergi. She hoped the first wouldn’t cost her an arm and a leg – or her life. The second – well, she wasn’t making any promises that she wouldn’t take a life.
“I can’t believe he would just disappear like that,” she muttered, refusing to think of his kiss. “So much for his promises; they are just as worthless as the ones Slate made.”
It would take her nearly an hour to reach the city if she didn’t encounter any delays. She kept a wary eye out for any movement. Breaking into a fast jog, she let the fury building inside her fester until she almost relished the thought of someone getting in her way.
Sergi better hope our paths don’t cross again, she savagely thought.
Tribute: Sanctuary City on Turbinta:
The two men struggled to get the mud-covered capsule through the doorway and into the bar. Tallei, the owner of the bar and a master assassin, stood to the side, scanning the capsule with her one good eye.
“Where did you find it?” Tallei said, walking over and running her long staff along the top.
“In the forest southeast of here,” one of the men replied.
“There was nothing in it when we found it. The interior was ripped up pretty bad,” a second man said, nervously swallowing when Tallei turned her gaze to him.
“And the Legion?” Tallei inquired, walking around the capsule before pausing once again in front of it.
“We took it out from beneath their noses,” the first man promised.
Tallei fixed her clear eye on the man. “Make sure that all tracks are covered and tell no one about this,” she instructed.
“Yes, Tallei,” the man replied.
“And find the missing contents. It will be a man who is unlike any others you have seen. Bring him to me – alive,” she ordered.
“Yes, Tallei,” the man said again.
Tallei waved a dismissive hand at the two men. She had closed the bar early, unwilling to chance anyone discovering the capsule was here and trying to take it from her.
She waited until they left before she opened the capsule. Using the staff in her hand, she moved the ripped pieces of cloth to the side to reveal the underside. Her dark green lips were pinched in irritation.
There was nothing of use or value in the pod – but, she thought, her eyes glimmering with malice, the pod itself could be useful. Tallei reached up and closed the lid. Her pupil, Kella Ta’Qui, had betrayed her. The reports that Tallei had received stated that Kella was in the company of an unusual man. Kella had what she wanted – and she had not brought him to her.
Tallei pulled a small portable communications device from the pocket of her pants. With a sweeping gaze, she scanned the empty bar. The establishment in the city gave her extra credits, but mostly it gave her opportunities to gather information and it was a source of potential new recruits, though she no longer took in full pupils, not after Kella.
Kella was her niece by blood. Tallei had stolen her away after killing Kella’s parents. As one of Turbinta’s most powerful master instructors, it was only fitting that she had one of the most powerful students. She had seen the possibilities inside Kella the moment she met the young girl. Unfortunately, there was also a weakness. Kella liked to collect treasures, things that she cared about. Tallei had tried beating that weakness out of her young charge, and she’d thought she had succeeded, but clearly, she had failed.
Opening a private communication line, she sent a signal to Kella’s spaceship. It did not take long for her niece to answer. She studied the defiant young face reflected on the screen.
“Tallei,” Kella greeted, her head lifting.
Tallei was silent for several seconds. She studied Kella’s expression. There was something different about her niece. It took a moment for Tallei to recognize what it was – fear. Tallei could use that to her advantage against her young protégée.
“Your time is up,” she stated in a cold, calm voice.
Kella vigorously shook her head. “I have two days left,” her niece argued.
“Not any longer,” Tallei sharply countered.
Kella’s voice became hard. “The contract specified the time period. I have two days left,” she insisted.
Tallei’s irritation flared into an icy fury. It seemed Kella would not give up her treasure without another of their lessons. Or it was time to kill her. Tallei suspected she would do the latter. It was dangerous for the master to have a pupil as skilled as Kella no longer in their control.
Tallei’s lips pursed in irritation. “Bring the alien to me, Kella, and I will not kill you,” she ordered.
“No,” Kella stubbornly replied.
“The Legion forces are here. Bring the alien to me. I order you to obey,” Tallei impatiently commanded again.
“No, Tallei. I will not bring him to you. I no longer answer to you,” Kella quietly replied.
Tallei could feel her lip curl in disgust. “Do you think you love him, Kella? Do you wish to collect him and place him in a box with your other treasures?” she asked.
Satisfaction coursed through her when the alien male reacted to her goading and stepped into vi
ew. She ran her eye over him, assessing how dangerous an opponent he would be. There was no doubt in her mind that Kella would have told the man who she was and of what she was capable. The contemptuous expression on the man’s face and the mocking look in his eyes provoked an unusual emotion in Tallei – doubt.
The man returned her scrutiny with his own. “Damn! I say daammmn, but how do you spell bitch? You know, they have places for psychopaths like you,” he commented in a scornful tone.
Tallei’s eye narrowed and she could feel the vein at her temple beginning to throb. “You are arrogant,” she stated in a cold voice.
“Yep, to the bone,” he agreed.
Tallei’s grip tightened on her staff. A fierce desire to wipe the insulting smirk from his face swept through her. Kella and the man would die a slow and very painful death. From the man’s protective stance over her niece, she suspected it would be especially painful for him to watch Kella die such a death. Tallei’s only regret was that she could not keep her niece alive to watch her kill the foolish man, too.
“You are reckless,” she sneered.
The man’s grin grew until she could see his even, white teeth. “And handsome, witty, charming, and a host of other lovely adjectives. I’ll send you a dictionary if you need help with the definitions,” he retorted.
“You will come to regret your disdain of a Master Turbintan, alien,” she promised.
“Not likely, bitch. Kella is no longer under your thumb. If you come near her again, you’ll have to deal with us both,” he stated.
Tallei felt a chill of unease course through her. She had faced adversaries before who thought they could defeat her, but never had she met an opponent who had dared to look her in the eye and mock her like this man was doing. It would be interesting to see if he was still as arrogant when they faced each other without the protection of distance.
“Oh, I will deal with her – and with you when you come to me. You’ll come quickly if you wish to rescue the other one of your kind,” Tallei said with a triumphant smile.
She stepped to the side and held the communications device out so that both her niece and the man could see the pod sitting in the center of the room. The sound of their reactions empowered her. They would come, and she would be ready for them. She turned the communications device back to her face.
“You know where to come, Kella. You have one hour, or I will use the alien I found inside to show you what happens to those who displease me,” she ordered before she cut the transmission.
An ominous screech rent the air as she dragged her metal staff across the top of the metal pod. Her mind was no longer on her niece and the man, but on the Director of the Legion. Andronikos had promised a substantial number of credits for finding a pod and even more for the contents. Her good eye glittered with avarice. She would have both.
“But… there is still a third,” she murmured. She opened the communications device once again and pressed in a code.
“Yes, Master Tallei,” a soft voice replied.
“I have a job for you,” Tallei said.
Sergi grinned as he pulled the skirt over his trousers and fastened it at the waist. The long folds of dark gray material fell to his ankles. He had appropriated it from the clothing hanging from a line under an eave. Until he knew exactly what he was dealing with, he would scout the area in disguise.
He pulled the long, heavy gray shawl over his head and adjusted it, then picked up the thick piece of wood he’d found to use as a cane, and made sure the clothes and shawl covered everything but his fingertips. He couldn’t help but wonder what La’Rue’s expression would be if she could see him now.
“Ah, my little alien, if only we had met under different circumstances,” he muttered under his breath, unable to stop thinking of the vixen with the red hair, sharp tongue, and enticing lips.
Stepping out of the dim alley, he shuffled along the narrow walkway. There weren’t very many people out this early in the morning. He suspected that most transactions were done later in the day. He moved slowly, pausing as if needing to take a rest, but actually focusing on the names written on the buildings, trying to decipher what they meant.
Continuing down the walkway, he was about to turn the corner when a man swept around it. Sergi fell back against the wall, hiding in the folds of his skirt the knife he had automatically pulled. The small, orange-striped male glared at him. Sergi’s hand tightened around the gray shawl covering his head and he bowed his head enough to keep his face hidden.
“Move, old woman, or I’ll slit your throat,” the man snarled.
Sergi didn’t argue. La’Rue had mentioned that Turbintan assassins wore a tattoo signifying their clan, and given that he was on Turbinta and this guy had a prominent tattoo on his neck, Sergi thought it was a good bet that this was an assassin. He wondered if the kill marks La’Rue had told him about were somehow incorporated into the clan tattoo or if they were some elsewhere on his body. He would love to take the guy down a peg or two, but revealing his identify was not worth satisfying his desire to teach the man a lesson in etiquette. Instead, he shuffled back several steps and kept the walking stick and the knife ready in case the man followed through on this threat. Sergi warily watched the man stride down the sidewalk. The sudden, humorous thought that the man really did have Little Man Syndrome flashed through his mind.
Big knife, little dick, he silently mused.
Three hours later, he was making his second circuit through the compact area where it appeared most of the businesses were situated. He stepped into a covered area in front of one business when he saw a familiar figure weaving a determined path through the growing crowd of merchants and pedestrians. La’Rue was wearing her goggles and face cover, but he recognized her lean body, long stride, and the stunner she liked to carry everywhere.
Curious, he kept his head down until she passed by his position. His lips twitched when he heard her muttering to herself. He wondered if she had been cursing him since she left the freighter.
Sergi stepped out of the shadows and began following La’Rue. A silent groan whispered through his mind as he did. The gentle sway of her hips made his body think of things other than the fact that he was on an alien world and dressed in drag.
You have been without a woman for far too long, Sergi. Keep your focus, he cautioned himself.
Of course, his body didn’t want to listen to what his mind was telling him. La’Rue had somehow wiggled her way under his skin during their brief encounter. He turned left at the corner and followed her down a covered alley with shops on each side. He knew there was a shop at the end selling parts.
He frowned when she passed the shop and kept going. What concerned him even more were the two men who stepped out of the shadows in front of him, their eyes fixed on her. The one on his left fingered the weapon at his hip. Sergi picked up his pace a little when he saw La’Rue glance over her shoulder. She turned another corner up ahead.
A silent curse filtered through his mind when the men sped up. He reached behind his back and wrapped his fingers around the grip of his gun. Pulling it free, he kept it close to his side as he turned the corner. He could see the two men standing in front of La’Rue at the far end.
“You picked the wrong person to rob. Now, get lost,” she said, aiming her weapon at the two men.
One of the men turned and spit on the ground. “Give us your credits,” he replied.
“Wrong decision, Marastin scum,” she jibed, lowering her blaster and shooting the man in the leg.
The second man surged forward, wrapped his beefy hand around her wrist, and twisted her arm. Her blaster hit the ground. She swung the stun rod at the man, but he grabbed her other wrist.
The man on the ground released a series of loud curses as he reached for the weapon at his side. Sergi lifted his gun and fired a single bullet into the man on the ground. The silent thud made little sound in the narrow alley. The man fell back to the filthy ground, his weapon falling from his limp hand.
/> La’Rue took advantage of the other man’s distraction at his comrade’s sudden collapse to kick the man in the groin. Sergi swore he could hear the man’s balls crunch. The moment the man released her, she kicked him backwards onto the ground and pressed the end of the stun rod into his chest.
“Mess with me again and I’ll rip your balls off,” she swore.
Sergi pointed his weapon at the man and fired a shot. La’Rue jerked backwards in surprise and raised the stun rod toward Sergi. He strode forward and toed the man’s arm out to reveal the knife he had been about to throw.
“Never give them a chance to strike again, dusha moya,” Sergi instructed, pulling the shawl back to reveal his face.
“Sergi…,” La’Rue breathed, her eyes widening in shock before they darkened in fury. “You… you… you….”
Sergi pushed the stun rod to the side and stepped forward. His other arm swept around her, and he pulled her close against his body. The fury in her eyes changed to uncertainty as he bent his head close to hers. He captured her lips in a desperate kiss that made him wary of how easy it would be to lose control with La’Rue.
Her lips parted under his onslaught. He wished he could tousle her hair between his fingers. If they weren’t out in the open, he would seriously consider burying himself inside her. The overpowering urge to take her for his own was completely out of character for him.
His tongue tangled with hers for several long seconds before he reluctantly released her lips. They gazed at each other, their breathing heavy and their bodies taut with desire. He winced when she suddenly punched him.
“What was that for?” he demanded, releasing her and stepping back.
“You left,” she stated, pushing him farther back so she could step to the side and pick up her blaster.
He turned and watched her walk over to the two men. A shudder shook her lithe frame, and a look of disgust swept across her face as she bent over and gingerly searched both men. He frowned as he watched her.