He held onto the doorframe to keep from falling backwards. “There is a rock,” he warned.
“I know there is a rock!” she snapped, twisting the stick to the left.
Sergi grunted when he slid in the opposite direction. The sound of rock scraping on metal echoed through the ship. He really hoped this thing didn’t end up like the Titanic.
“Look out!” he hissed, his eyes widening when he saw they were heading for a wall of water that had to be over thirty meters high.
“I see it,” she retorted, reaching up to flip several switches.
“Can’t you go higher?” Sergi asked, pulling himself forward and sliding into the seat next to her. “You need to go higher. You really, really need to go higher.”
Sergi’s fingers fumbled for the straps while his eyes remained locked on the wall of water rushing toward them. Once he heard the click of the belt locking, his hands moved to armrests. His fingers clung to the padded sides.
“H, now!” the woman yelled.
Sergi was pressed back against the seat when the ship shot up at a steep angle with tremendous force. The ship passed through the top of the cresting wave and out the other side. Additional alarms sounded for a moment before the woman reached up to shut them off.
Unable to see more than a few kilometers ahead, Sergi could feel the ship descending. He braced for impact when he saw the tall trees rising toward them. He turned to warn her, but bit back his comment.
Her face was stiff with determination and her eyes were grimly focused on the scene in front of them. He couldn’t help but admire her calm as she fought for control of the spaceship. His gaze ran over her face. She had removed the hat and he caught himself staring at her thick, auburn hair.
“I have to set us down or we are going to crash. There is a rocky area ahead that will work. At least I hope it will. If it collapses, we are dead,” she stated in a tense voice.
“It will hold,” Sergi replied with confidence.
She frowned and glanced at him before returning her attention to her chosen destination. “How do you know?” she asked.
Sergi flashed a confident grin that she couldn’t see as he was still wearing the cover over the lower half of his face. “It isn’t my time to die,” he replied.
She gave him a funny look before shrugging her shoulders. “I hope you are right,” she muttered under her breath.
He was glad she couldn’t see the doubt clouding his eyes as they drew closer to the landing area she had picked out. It looked awfully small from the angle they were approaching. He gripped the armrest as she twisted the spaceship around and set it down with a wobbly thump. Only when she shut off the engines – and the alarms – did he relax his grip.
Turning his head to congratulate her, he found himself staring into the dark barrel of a gun. She had already released the straps to her seat and was standing before he’d realized she had moved. Sergi couldn’t keep the dry chuckle from escaping as his eyes rose to meet hers. He slowly lifted up his hands. There wasn’t much else he could do while still strapped to the seat.
“You’re not an assassin, are you?” she demanded.
Sergi reached up, pulled the cover from his mouth and nose, and removed the military-grade goggles. He heard her swift hiss and saw her eyes open wide when she got her first close-up look of his face. With a wry grin, he answered her questions.
“Sergi Lazaroff at your service, dorogoy,” Sergi replied, using the Russian word for darling.
“Who are you?” she whispered, confusion darkening her eyes.
A Few Moments Ago:
La’Rue refused to be distracted by the man sitting next to her. At least, until after they had landed. The moment they did, she released the seat straps and pulled the blaster from her holster. Rising out of her seat, she aimed for his chest.
She was still cursing the fact that she had followed him. If there had been any other way, she wouldn’t have, but thanks to the Turbintan assassin and this guy taking her locator, she had been delayed in returning to the pod. She had been within a few kilometers of it when a transport had flown over her and landed.
She’d abandoned her hover lift and crept up to find that two men were not only examining the pod, but they were talking to a Turbintan who La’Rue had no desire to meet, much less cross. Tallei wasn’t just a Turbintan assassin; she was a master trainer of the Turbintan assassins. Her reputation put fear in the hearts of the most hardened criminals in the galaxy.
With the loss of the pod and the potential credits, she’d been left with no choice but to go after the other one. She refused to admit that the man now sitting next to her had anything to do with her decision. Unfortunately, the only good thing that had come out of this entire disastrous trip was that she was still alive. She only had a few credits, her ship now needed some major repairs, and she was stuck on a planet where killing was a leisurely pastime. She could really use a drink – after she found out who the man was and what he knew about the other capsules.
Her eyes ran over the man. “You’re not an assassin, are you?” she demanded with a frown.
She watched as he slowly lifted his hands. She was about to demand that he remove his protective goggles and face cover when his hands moved toward his face. She released a sharp hiss as his face was revealed.
His hair was short and almost white in color. His eyes were a vivid blue. He had a light coating of darker whiskers along his jaw and chin. His eyes were sharp and glittered with a wry sense of humor. His nose was long and narrow with a slight bump that made her think it had been broken at one time. His voice was deep and smooth with that accent she had never heard before she met him.
“Sergi Lazaroff at your service, dorogoy,” Sergi replied.
“Who are you?” she demanded, confusion lacing her voice.
The corner of his mouth lifted. “I appear to be lost,” he responded in a light tone.
“Lost? How in the hell can you be lost? No one gets lost on Turbinta. No one wants to get lost on this miserable planet!” she stated, shaking her head. “If you value breathing, you’d better start talking.”
“May I attend to my wound first?” he asked, glancing down at his arm.
La’Rue knew the second her eyes moved away from his face that she had made a tactical error. His hand flashed out, grabbing the barrel of her blaster and redirecting it to the side at the same time as he jerked her forward. He kicked the back of her knee, causing her leg to give out on her. He exerted on her arm, and she lost her balance in the narrow confines of the cockpit, twisting as she fell.
Before she realized what had happened, she was sitting in his lap with his arm around her neck. She clawed at his arm with her free hand. He had trapped her other arm with a steely grip around her wrist.
“I’m really beginning to hate you,” she informed him through clenched teeth.
“I can assure you that the feeling is not mutual,” he retorted in a voiced filled with amusement.
La’Rue snorted at his comment. His soft, chuckled response to her disbelief heated her blood while his warm breath brushed against her neck. She tilted her head back when he squeezed her wrist. His thumb hit a nerve in her hand that caused her fingers to go numb. The blaster fell to the floor of the cockpit.
“That is much better,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the warm skin of her neck.
“Are you kissing me?” she demanded, stiffening in surprise.
“I’m simply making sure you are real,” he answered, releasing her.
La’Rue twisted on his lap the moment his arms fell away from her. She stared into his dark blue eyes. He returned her gaze without blinking. She knew her eyes must be filled with confusion. His were filled with heated curiosity.
“I want a drink,” she finally said, turning back around and rising to her feet. “Don’t mess with anything on my ship.”
“Not even you?” he playfully asked.
La’Rue ignored him. Bending over, she picked up her blaster and st
epped away before he could stop her. She didn’t look back as she exited the cockpit and started down the corridor.
“H! I need a diagnostic report on the ship,” she yelled.
She didn’t slow her pace until she turned the corner into the galley. Walking over to the cabinet, she twisted the knob and reached up for a bottle of Torrian liquor. She looked over her shoulder when she heard footsteps stop outside the door.
“Is there enough for two?” he asked, nodding at the bottle in her hand.
La’Rue reached up into the cabinet and grabbed a second metal cup. Carrying the items over to a small table bolted to the floor, she slid into the seat with her back to the wall. She placed the cups down in front of her, pulled off the stopper, and poured the light green liquor into each cup. After replacing the stopper and setting the bottle on the table, she leaned forward, and pushed one cup toward the empty seat in front of her.
She kept her eyes on Sergi as he walked into the room. He scanned the room, pausing and frowning at the small kitchen area before he slid into the seat. He casually placed both arms on the table and cradled the cup between his hands. She had a feeling he did it on purpose, to show her that he wasn’t a threat. She believed that as much as she believed her ex-lover would cover his own damn debts.
“My name is La’Rue Gant,” she stated.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, La’Rue Gant,” Sergi said, sitting back in his chair. “This ship, it goes into space, yes?”
La’Rue raised an eyebrow. “What? The Star Runner? Of course it goes into space. How else would I have gotten here? Well, it will once H and I repair it. Which better be soon if we want to get off this planet alive,” she said, muttering the last part with a grimace.
“Who is H?” Sergi asked, dropping a hand to his lap and casually sitting back. Her eyes narrowed and she mimicked him, sitting back and lowering her hand to the blaster lying next to her on the bench.
“HL-9. He is a modified Harvester Line service bot that I use to help me,” she said, lifting her drink to her lips and taking a sip.
A brief frown crossed Sergi’s face. “Is there anyone else aboard?” he asked.
La’Rue shook her head and leaned forward. “No. Listen, why don’t we cut through the pleasantries and just say what we really want to say? I know you have your weapon trained on me, just as you know I have mine on you. We can either blow the hell out of each other or we can see if we can come to a mutually beneficial business proposition,” she suggested, staring him in the eyes.
His lips quirked up and his eyes crinkled, sparkling with mirth. This strange man was driving her crazy! She still couldn’t figure out which planet he was from. There were few reasons anyone would want to be on Turbinta and he didn’t fit any of the scenarios that she could think of.
“It is obvious you do not care for this planet. Why are you here?” he asked, lifting his hand back to the table again.
“Don’t care for this planet?” she repeated in disbelief. “You do know that you are on Turbinta, don’t you? The weather isn’t the only shitty thing on this planet, so are pretty much all of the inhabitants. The only people on this planet are assassins, would-be assassins, the people the assassins kill in training, and those training the assassins. In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve said the word assassins a few times.”
“Yes, I noticed,” he dryly replied. “Are there any cities close by? Someplace where they may have taken the person who was in the capsule?” he asked.
La’Rue frowned at Sergi. “The Turbintans are more of a nomadic species, mostly because they are always trying to kill each other to prove who is the deadliest. Personally, I wish they would just kill each other off and be done with it, but they don’t really care what I think. There is one major city near us that is considered a ‘safe zone’ by those delusional enough to believe it. It is where traders from other worlds come to deliver or pick up items. That is why I wanted to get this far. We are on the outskirts of the city and technically are within the zone. It will be dark soon, another reason not to go out. I think all the dreary weather is to blame for the Turbintans being so crazy. If there was anyone in the capsules, they could have been taken anywhere. I’ve heard there is a tower where they keep the prisoners they plan to use in their training exercises.”
“Nice people,” Sergi commented, looking down at his drink.
La’Rue looked at Sergi, unsure if he was being serious or sarcastic. She decided it must have been the latter. Sliding out of the seat, she stood up and walked over to the storage. She pulled out a couple of ready-meals and pressed the button on the packaging. Within seconds, steam and the delicious aroma of food filled the room. She opened the pouches and removed the trays.
“I don’t know about you, but almost dying – twice – makes me hungry,” she said, placing a tray in front of him.
She retrieved some utensils from a drawer and slid back into her seat. Refilling her drink, she held up the bottle for Sergi. He shook his head. She shrugged, trying not to grin when he cautiously stirred the stew she had placed in front of him. She scooped up some of the thick vegetables in broth and blew on it.
“You asked about my home world. I was born on Jeslean, but my family was originally from Tesla Terra. My father left to work at the main headquarters for the Gallant,” she said, taking a bite of the hot meal. “So, what about you? Where are you from? You don’t look like a Torrian. Are you from one of the outer planets? I’ve been to a few of them, but not all.”
He looked down at his meal for a moment before he looked up at her. That wry smile was back on his lips, but his eyes were deadly serious when he looked back at her. The spoon in her hand froze halfway to her mouth as she waited.
“You could say I’m from one of the outer planets,” he slowly responded.
“So, which one?” she pressed, curious to see if she would recognize his accent once he told her.
He placed his spoon down in his stew, and rested his left arm on the table, though his right hand had disappeared under it again, sending a wave of unease through her. La’Rue silently cursed. She had let her guard down.
“Earth. I’m from a galaxy far, far away from this one,” he quietly replied.
La’Rue lowered her hand. She could feel her fingers begin to tremble as her mind swirled with sudden insight and the pieces of his odd behavior began to fall into place. The fact that she hadn’t seen it right away stunned her.
Flashes of memory shot through her mind. Sergi’s sudden appearance when the assassin had attacked her. He hadn’t just come upon her and the Turbintan, he had been following her. His strange clothing and his determination to find the other pod had made her think he was after the bounty, but, he had known exactly how many others there were. Finally, his lack of knowledge about the Turbintans and about what happened on Jeslean were too unbelievable to doubt his sincerity.
“Who are you, Sergi?” La’Rue quietly asked.
He gave her a grim smile. “I am the man from the pod. You took my spacesuit. I am not from your world, La’Rue. I’m not even from this galaxy,” he answered.
She shook her head. Her gaze swept over his serious expression. This was why she hadn’t been able to place where he was from. She groaned and bowed her head, running her hands through her hair as her mind processed the information.
“You don’t have to worry just about the Turbintans,” she muttered, looking up at him with growing panic.
“Who else would I have to worry about?” Sergi asked.
“Andri Andronikos, the Director of the Legion. He will stop at nothing to find you and the others of your kind,” she murmured.
“What does this Director want with us?” Sergi demanded in a soft, calm tone that sent a shiver through her.
“Your support or your death,” she replied.
Chapter Six
Jeslean: City of the New Legion
Andri Andronikos stood near the window and looked out at the dozens of transports lifting off with supplies for his
warships. The war had officially started. He turned when he heard the incoming communication signal.
“Connect,” he ordered.
General Coleridge Landais appeared in a hologram on the center of the table. Andri could see the frustration in his half-brother’s eyes. In the background, he saw the gray clouds of Turbinta. Andri would have ordered the destruction of that planet as well if he hadn’t needed the skills of some of the inhabitants on occasion.
“What do you have to report?” Andri demanded.
“We discovered where a pod landed, but the pod itself was missing. The signals from both pods have faded. There is a considerable amount of interference due to the climate here. I have men looking for them both,” Coleridge replied.
Andri’s mouth tightened in annoyance. “Have you discovered any information about Roan?” he queried.
Coleridge’s eyes narrowed and his frustration turned to a simmering anger. General Roan Landais, one of the Legion’s best Generals, Coleridge’s son and Andri’s nephew, had disappeared a few days ago. While Coleridge had insisted that Roan would not betray them, Andri was not as confident. Roan had always been independent.
“Nothing yet,” Coleridge acknowledged.
“Do not disappoint me, Coleridge,” Andri warned in a calm voice.
“I haven’t yet, Andri. I will deal with my son if it becomes necessary. I have Commander Taug searching for the missing pod and its contents. I will notify you the moment it is located,” Coleridge promised.
“See that you do,” Andri reiterated before ending the communications.
He turned back to the window. A dark haze covered much of the planet due to the number of buildings that were still burning and smoldering. He ignored the devastation. The flattening of the cities on Jeslean had been necessary to erase any hope that a rebellion would be successful. He had needed to set an example and he had done so by striking at the heart of their heritage.