“The wedding of your daughter?”
“My full-blooded daughter will assume control of the throne once married. Her husband becomes ruler as our law states. Since he’s a Mokarran puppet, my planet will fall under their control.” Before he inquires, she answers the question he wanted to ask: “If I don’t allow the wedding, a military occupation will devastate my people. It took generations to unite the planet’s constant warring countries. I won’t see that undone.”
“I’m not sure what assistance I’ll provide.”
“You work for Maxtin. Only one other and now you know I was a pilot during the Battle of the Twin Suns. My father felt time off-world at university would improve my ability to rule. Little did he know I joined the Osirian Coalition military for a term of service. I watched the fall of millions. Not on Aurora. Maxtin knows this and sent you to assist. Since there are no transmissions between the UCP and Aurora, no one will know what I’m about to ask of you.”
Reynard’s instinct to flee fights to take over his actions.
“Kidnap my daughter, unannounced to her, during her wedding, and protect her until she returns to rule Aurora without Mokarran influences.”
“Mokarran security—and I assume your own palace guards—won’t be too obliging.”
“They will do everything to kill you,” the queen assures him. “You’ll be well compensated along with securing a portion of the royal treasury, which I want you to steal as well, for Maxtin to hold in trust for my daughter.”
Trust.
This woman claims not to have requested Maxtin’s help and knows nothing of me and my crew. Yet, she freely hands over her daughter’s life and fortune. The security code transmitted in order to land must have contained something personal to give her reason to trust us.
“A tall order to expect from someone you know little about.”
“You carry a sword from a Calthos warrior clan. An honor many Calthos warriors have failed to earn.”
“I’ll need some information on the palace.”
“Harbuu will provide you with any such information, but not door codes, or other security measures. You must learn, confound and defeat those yourself. This must be a kidnapping, or the Mokarran will know of my involvement and assume control. I’ve a final demand.”
Not surprised, Reynard thinks.
“No matter what, the princess must remain pure in your custody. She must not know the flesh of a man until she’s queen.”
Reynard’s not sure how to respond to that request. Keeping the princess safe will be enough of a chore. The princess’s not privy to this kidnapping, and stealing away a woman from her dream wedding will cost him dearly. Most women believe their weddings are a royal affair. This one just happens to be correct.
“I’ll protect her with my life.”
“And your balls, Commander. If she returns to me impure, I will have Harbuu castrate you.”
The Calthos woman acknowledges him with a bow.
••••••
REYNARD JUMPS FROM the cubical section of the transporter room. An all-over body shiver chills his frame as his molecules tighten back into place. He races to the bridge.
“Australia, how quick can we organize a two-pronged criminal operation?”
“I thought you were turning us into a criminal operation with weapons smuggling. A task yet to become popular among the law-abiding, even if the weapons are for killing Mokarran.”
“Add kidnapping and theft of royal treasury to the list of our felonious infractions.”
“Commander, to what have you agreed? I understand the necessary to paint us as criminals to work many of the Admiral’s missions, but you must not destroy credibility if you expect to have any chance at maintaining—”
“Consider what the Admiral needs from us—we’ll always be on the cusp of legality.”
“As your first officer, I recommend you consider the ramifications of this operation.”
“I have. The queen requested—a kidnapping—to prevent the death of her daughter. The heir to the throne.”
“She requested?” Australia’s sapphire eyes grow large.
“Yes. She claims she’s not been in contact with Maxtin and no one knows she fought in the Battle of the Twin Suns.”
“I have read every document from the battle. There is no record of her ever being in the Osirian Coalition.”
“She claimed only her and Maxtin knew of her lineage. What bothers you about it, Aus?”
“I took this assignment at Maxtin’s behest and the opportunity it afforded me to interact with many alien species in the hopes of encountering some of my own people. I knew this path would lead me into questionable circumstances. But since the Tibbar ravaged my home world and drove my people to possible extinction, the chance to search for them was overwhelming.”
“We could run into some of your people hiding among smugglers.”
“I am a pacifist by nature. Outlaw I cannot be.”
MAXTIN REMEMBERS HEARING “We’ve got to get the admiral out of here!” after he felt the impact of the explosion. He doesn’t remember much else. Someone tugs on the seatbelt harness to make sure it’s secure.
Strange.
Why didn’t I see whoever yanked on the buckle? Why can’t I open my eyes? Maxtin reviews the events in his mind. The maintenance tunnel. He had to run hunched over to move fast enough to escape.
Bright.
It got so bright in the tunnel and the heat wave that followed. His eyes could have experienced a flash burn, and now he must allow them to remain in darkness to heal.
He remembers nothing but a voice. “We’ve got to get the Admiral out of here!” It was the other Zayar, Thierry. Nearly seventy-five, the only Zayar allowed off-world who trades for Bannis Root. Why Bannis Root? Grown as a food additive, but if grown in select soil it maintains some of the properties of the soil.
He needs to test whatever Thierry has stored in his cargo bay to understand why the Zayar desires it. It grows wild on Zayar so no need to import it.
Sensation returns to his body. Maxtin is secured to a seat
