Star Raiders (5 page)

The doors slid open with a creak. Light flooded the shaft, and Greyson blinked against the glare. Hands reached down and pul ed Shyanne up and through the opening. Greyson could hear voices but couldn’t make out words. He struggled to remain alert.

“Careful. His shoulder’s probably dislocated,” Shyanne was tel ing Eldin and Bear. They gripped Greyson and yanked him out of the shaft. Barely conscious, he groaned and slumped against the wal of the corridor.

As much as Shy wanted to see to Greyson—he’d saved her life!—the safety of her ship and crew took priority. “What happened?” she asked Eldin.

“Damn slave ship fired on us! They came out of subspace sending Spitfire’s locater ID. By the time we had visual and realized it wasn’t Damon’s ship, they’d already attacked. Caught us off guard.”

“How much damage?” Her gaze strayed to where Greyson now sat listening.

His cheeks were colorless and his gaze, though pain-fil ed, was clear again.

“Minor. Knocked out a couple of thrusters, put a few dents in the hul and shorted some electrical systems—that elevator’s unfortunately among them.

Probably used the Spitfire’s locator ID in an attempt to slip by us. They obviously weren’t looking for a fight they couldn’t possibly win, just trying to put us out of commission long enough to get away. Must have heard our reputation of confiscating human cargo. They missed the weapons system.”

“Did you get a shot at them?”

“No, we didn’t fire. Even a smal blast would have blown the poor buggers apart.”

She knew he referred to the slaves, not the slavers. Having been one himself, with the scars both inside and out to prove it, Eldin had little sympathy for those who traded in human flesh—and maybe too much for the slaves themselves. “Might have been more merciful,” she suggested.

“Probably.” Eldin sighed. “Just couldn’t do it. Where there’s life there’s hope.”

“How long for repairs?”

“Four or five hours.”

“Do we know who they were?”

Eldin shook his head. “I didn’t recognize the ship: a smal , older ranger-class model, held together with spit and a prayer. No markings. Can’t hold more than a crew of three, along with ten or twenty slaves in the hold.” Shy sighed. Unfortunately, running slaves was stil far too easy, especial y out here. Few outer-world governments cared, and even fewer did anything to stop it.

The slave trade was huge both in the outer worlds and in Consortium space.

Though Earth and its colonies had banned it, many other worlds stil used slave labor. And so long as the slavers didn’t break any other C.O.I.L. laws, the Consortium didn’t see fit to interfere.

“Any idea where they were coming from?”

“No, but Terle tagged them with a locator beacon. Looks like they’re headed toward that shit-hole, Verus.”

Only someone desperate to unload their human cargo would land on Verus.

Sel ing a slave there was barely worth the trip. Inhabitants of the resource-destitute desert planet were scum: criminals, mental cases, those unwelcome anywhere else in the outer worlds. Few women lived there, and those who did rarely lasted very long.

“Damn.” Shy rubbed a hand around the back of her neck. Her head ached where she’d hit it against the ladder. “We’re behind schedule, and we’ve already got enough complications.” She looked down at Greyson, who eyed her with interest.

“What do you want to do?” Eldin asked, as if he didn’t already know.

She couldn’t ignore this problem, but she didn’t need another drain on her already waning resources. “Get going on the repairs. Send a message to Able and Damon to rendezvous with us behind Verus’s fifth moon.”

“What about him?” Eldin glanced at Greyson. “Want me to take a look at him?” Shy shook her head. “No. I’l take care of him. Bear, help me get him to the med bay.”

Chapter Three

Greyson winced as Bear gripped his uninjured arm. He flexed it and groaned. He was pretty sure his shoulder was dislocated. When he tried to look, the pain made him nauseated and light-headed. Stil , he said, “I don’t need to go to med bay. I’m fine.”

Shyanne glanced over her shoulder at him and muttered something that sounded like “Men…”

Bear’s hand tightened in warning. It didn’t look as though he had a choice.

Greyson sighed and let the giant help him to his feet. Dark spots blurred his vision.

Maybe a sling and a few painkil ers wouldn’t be such a bad idea. He fol owed meekly.

When they got there, Shyanne pointed at the room’s examination bed. “Sit.

You can go, Bear.”

The man glared at Greyson, then nodded and left the room. The door slid shut with a soft
snick.

Greyson sat on the edge of the bed and watched while Shyanne moved around the wel -stocked and organized medical bay. Though the rest of the ship might be showing age, the equipment here was state-of-the-art and more than adequate for even the most delicate surgery.

Shyanne came to his side to help him pul down the top half of his flight suit.

When she probed the tender flesh around the swol en joint, he flinched and swore.

“So much for my macho image.”

She grinned. “Partial y dislocated. Lie down and I’l move it back into place.” He did as she instructed.

She bent his arm at the elbow and rotated it external y. Every inch sent pain streaking down his arm. He gasped. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

She paused and asked, “Do you want something for the pain?”

“No,” he ground out. “Just get it done.”

She nodded and continued. When his arm reached a thirty-five-degree angle, he heard and felt a pop. He closed his eyes and went limp in relief. Though his arm stil ached, the excruciating pain stopped.

Something cool moved down his arm from shoulder to elbow. With each pass, the ache lessened. He opened his eyes to see Shyanne running a smal silver-colored rod over his arm. The rod gave off a milky blue glow.

“What’s that? What are you doing?” he asked.

She didn’t answer, instead saying, “I don’t think there’s any muscle or ligament damage.” She leaned away from him. The rod’s glow faded. “How does your arm feel?”

He sat up and tentatively flexed, surprised to find he had ful motion with little residual pain, no more than he’d have from a heavy workout. He rotated his arm.

“What did you do? What is that thing?”

“Something I picked up a few years ago. Handy. Repairs most muscle and ligament injuries without surgery.”

“How does it work?”

She shrugged. “I haven’t a clue. Got it from an alien whose spacecraft was disabled by a meteor. We rendered a bit of assistance and he gave it as payment, though we didn’t speak the same language. I thought it was a bar of metal, maybe platinum. Was going to sel it. It’s not. Can’t quite determine what type of metal it is, though, and discovered its use by accident.”

“Can I see it?

“Sure.” She tossed the rod to him. “Won’t do you any good, though. When it’s working, you can’t examine it. When it’s not, there’s nothing to see; it’s just a solid piece of some unknown metal.”

She was right. He rol ed the wand around in his palms. Aside from being warm to the touch, it appeared to be nothing more than a solid rod, without any indication of seams or internal parts.

“We’ve scanned it but there’s nothing inside.”

“What species of alien did you get it from?”

“Don’t know. Like I said, we couldn’t communicate wel . Not even my translator chip could decipher their language. Trying just gave me a raging headache. Silky had a long interaction with them, but she never let on if she learned much.”

“Then they’re not from a C.O.I.L. world. And if your translator didn’t work…” He tossed the rod back. Realization washed over him. “You’ve been in the Beyond.”

“Yes. Why shouldn’t I?”

“Consortium law strictly regulates first contact with nonaffiliated worlds and species.”

She threw back her head and laughed. “And I should care about C.O.I.L.’s stupid laws why? I’m already a criminal, and their stupid laws—”

“Laws are what al ow mankind to live civilized lives.”

“Granted, but some lawmakers are corrupt and unjust.” The sparkle in her eyes warned him this would be no easy battle. Greyson struggled to keep from continuing the dispute. Cooperation, not conflict, was his goal. Reengaging her disdain of al things C.O.I.L. wasn’t the best way to achieve success. And he couldn’t help but fear a debate with her would no longer be a sure win.

“I think we’l have to agree to disagree about Consortium law,” he said. Trying to get things back on track, he asked, “When wil you and your crew decide on my offer?”

Disappointment washed through Shy. She’d hoped to engage him in a war of words. When they were younger, his greater knowledge had al owed him to demolish her arguments against the Consortium, but now she could hold her own.

So of course Greyson had ended the discussion. It figured.

She crossed her arms over her chest, leaned back against the med cabinet and muttered, “Stil the single-minded ASP agent.” He avoided her gaze. Not that she was looking at his face. The sight of his chest, where his flightsuit gaped open, revealing an expanse of smooth golden skin, distracted her. How did he manage to maintain his coloring? And did he do it al over? She glanced at her own arm and remembered how pale it had looked against his. Memories made her tremble. Warmth surged through her. Her breasts grew heavy and moisture gathered in her mouth and groin.

She stiffened.
No.
Her current attraction to Greyson was only the aftermath of the adrenaline rush from almost fal ing to her death: Sex was the ultimate reaffirmation of life. She wouldn’t succumb to the need pounding in her veins. For ten years she’d buried her craving for human contact, for
him
. She could do it again. Why did it get harder each time their eyes met?

Straightening, she asked, “Why are you so determined to capture Dempster?

What’s in it for you?” That was the relevant question.

Greyson snared Shyanne’s gaze and began. “The current director, Wil iams, is convinced you’re behind these attacks. He’s gone on the record saying as much.

He didn’t object when I decided to pursue another direction, though.” Of course the man hadn’t objected; Greyson hadn’t asked permission. “If I’m wrong, only I’l be discredited and he doesn’t lose anything. If I’m right and we bring Dempster in, he’l say I was working under his guidance. He’l use the credit to further his political ambitions and I’l become the new director.”

“What if you’re right but you can’t capture Dempster?” Shyanne asked.

“I doubt it wil matter; I’l probably be dead. I’m sure the director wil find a way to blame everything on me, though.”

“What about your deal with my crew? What happens to them if we prove our innocence but can’t capture Dempster?”

Greyson hesitated. He knew she deserved the truth, but he couldn’t take the risk of losing her cooperation. Too many lives depended on him succeeding. He looked away and lied. “ASP wil honor my agreement with you. But…it won’t matter.”

“What do you mean?”

“Wel , if at the end of the month the attacks continue, the Consortium wil get involved. They have a plan. That’s what ELF is trying to avoid.”

“What is it?”

Greyson reached out and grabbed her hand. About this he wouldn’t lie. She deserved—needed to know the truth, what was at risk. “Their intended cleanup won’t be limited to Earth space and a track-down of these kil ers. The outer worlds wil be purged of al sentient life and opened to colonization by C.O.I.L. members.

It’s a proposition they’ve been considering for some time, and this is just the excuse they need. This is why Earth’s government didn’t want to agree to their plan.

At least not right away.”

Shyanne’s fingers tightened on his. “Th-they c-can’t do that. They wouldn’t.

There are mil ions of people in the outer worlds!” Greyson shrugged. “C.O.I.L. can and wil . It isn’t common knowledge, but they’ve done similar things in the past. I’ve read the records. And if they decide on this plan of action and Earth objects…wel , as a probationary member it’s subject to the same treatment. At the very least, Earth wil be expel ed from C.O.I.L. Even if they do nothing more, which isn’t a sure thing, Earth wil get no protection from them when other planets attack. Over the mil ennia the Consortium has deemed more than one species unfit to be a member and wiped them out of existence. That’s why ELF is determined to stop the problem before C.O.I.L. gets involved.”

“Isn’t there anything ELF can do to stop this atrocity?”

“Most Consortium technology is far beyond ours. They’ve only shared smal bits with us, things like the MAT units and the stealth technology. There’s little chance our troops could win such a battle—if anyone even decided to stand up to them. And without Consortium backing, Earth stands no chance against al -out war with other more advanced planets, so in the end it’s unlikely Earth’s government wil interfere with C.O.I.L.’s plans.”

She sagged. “It al means nothing. Freedom. Independence. Those things are nothing more than a mirage. Earth. Its colonies. The outer worlds. We’re al in thral to the Consortium, whether we know it or not.”

Greyson slid off the table and walked to her side. When he cupped her cheek in his palm, she looked into his eyes.

“Yes and no,” he said. “Certainly the Consortium has the power to make and enforce its laws. And, right or wrong, Earth voted to join. In doing so, we took on the obligation to obey those laws. As long as we do so, we’re free to live our lives without interference. Every law-abiding member is free to live his or her life.” Shy glared at Greyson, but she couldn’t bring herself to move away. Oddly, the warmth of his hand eased the icy fissure his words had torn in her heart. She also knew he meant what he said, though she believed his government was turning a blind eye to evil. “
I
didn’t join C.O.I.L.,” she whispered.

“No, but our species made the choice. Like it or not, we now have to live with the consequences. Though I agree there’s a lot wrong with their methods, I stil believe the benefits to mankind outweigh the negatives. And Dempster needs to be destroyed. This is an excel ent incentive.” He gave a wry smile.