The third looked like Havik because he had a brick-red complexion. Slimmer and shorter, he had a forelock of pure white hair.
“You,” the warlord said, looming over her seated at the fountain’s ledge, “are meant to be on a flight to Earth.”
She shoved another piece of the fried almost-fish in her mouth to buy herself time before answering. The scary alien warlord looked angry enough to march her to the next ship heading to Earth and strap her into a seat himself, just to prevent any shenanigans.
I should fear him, she thought distantly, because all I’ve ever heard is how the Mahdfel are more muscles than brains.
The man with one horn looked angry. Maybe that was how his face always looked. She knew she should be afraid. Trembling, even, but she attributed her lack of fear to a lingering side effect of the stasis.
“How did you find me?” she asked.
The warlord tapped a spot just behind his right ear.
Oh. The translation chip. “I always thought the rumor about using the chip as a tracker was bullshit. Guess Nicky was right after all. You got a name?”
“Paax.”
Thalia wanted to tell Paax she had been told his name once but the fog in her head made her forget and that she had met his wife, who had been impossibly sweet. She didn’t know how such a kind woman fit with such a frowny, serious guy like him, but she was glad they had each other. What came out of her mouth, however, was, “I’m not going back. There’s nothing for me there, and the people who screwed me over are just going to do it again. Not to mention that I’m worried that the guy who bought me will come looking for me.”
“You are one of the rescued females?” Havik asked.
“I am not concerned with your travel plans. I delivered you to the Sangrin authorities, who were to make arrangements for you,” Paax said, ignoring Havik’s demand for more information. “I do, however, have a proposition for you.”
“I’m listening.” She kept her voice from wavering, not an easy task considering she had four massive aliens standing over her. One looked annoyed, the other kept a neutral expression, another had an amused smirk on his face, and Danger Bang just looked pissed. If what the warlord had to say resembled getting her on an Earth-bound ship, she’d run. Somehow. They probably weren’t going to stuff her in another stasis chamber, which meant she had some time to figure it out.
“Help us capture those who took you,” Paax said.
Her shoulders slumped. “I already told you everything I know. I didn’t see or hear anything.” The medics said that her stasis chamber ran uninterrupted for three years. The smugglers didn’t wake her up for tea parties and divulging nefarious schemes.
The warlord sank to his knees, sitting on his heels. Havik gasped.
The serious one, Seeran, tossed a critical glare at Havik. “As bait,” he said.
“Bait?”
“Unacceptable,” Havik interrupted. “To endanger a female, even one—”
Paax held up a hand, silencing Havik. “It is a dangerous proposition to bring them to justice but not without reward.”
“Justice like law and order justice, or justice like stabby-stabby bang-bang?” She made finger pistols and pew-pew sound effects. She would never have dared to be so flippant with Nicky, for fear of what he might do, but the worst had already happened to her. It was freeing, even if it made her reckless. “Honestly, I’m fine either way, but I’d like to know.”
“Law and order, if possible. If you do this, I will compensate you with an amount of credits that will enable you to go anywhere. My mate called it ‘fuck you money.’”
“I like the sound of that.” With enough money, she could go to school, get certified, and be a nurse for real, or even go back to Earth and take a contract out on Nicky. For a moment, the thought of ending Nicky’s life filled her with a dark joy, but she wasn’t a killer. A thief, yes, but she did what she had to do to survive. She couldn’t kill unless her life depended on it. “What’s the catch?”
“Let us discuss this in a private location,” the warlord said, rising to his feet.
Havik
The warlord kneeled, placing himself below all four individuals present. Havik had never seen such a thing. To purposely let himself be placed in a vulnerable position would be to invite a challenge. Havik’s father would never allow any display of weakness, from himself or his son.
Paax led them to a private meeting room above the plaza. With every step, Havik’s questions about the warlord increased. He had heard the rumors about Paax. They were impossible to avoid. He had been a scientist and poisoned his warlord, then plotted with a scheming assassin to upset the warlord. How else could a scientist defeat a distinguished and skilled warrior? The Council mistrusted Paax, who had a record of ignoring orders.
Surely Havik and Ren could find a more suitable warlord to serve.
“Sir, I must protest the involvement of a civilian,” Havik said.
“What’s wrong with me?” the female demanded, planting a hand on her hip.
“You’re a common thief,” he said. “I observed this female steal credits from passing civilians in the crowd.”
“And no one noticed?” the warlord asked, sounding disappointingly intrigued.
Havik’s shoulders slumped. The law meant something. Order meant something. If this warlord so readily overlooked the foundation of honorable behavior, then this clan held no future for himself or Ren. They would complete their mission and continue their search.
“You noticed because I’m rusty as hell,” Thalia said. She perched on the edge of the conference table; her feet dangling off the ground. “But it doesn’t matter. I donated the credit.”
“Why?” he demanded, stepping forward. This close, he could detect the odor of cooking herbs and mint clinging to her
