“Subject not on board. Do you wish me to scan the planet below?”
“Yes. Send footage of the security feed between my quarters and the nearest three loading bays.”
“Loading footage now, Captain. There is no trace of the subject on Pralor Six.”
There are few things in the world better than a computer that can multitask. “Send me an account of how many crew members I have on Pralor Six.”
“There are thirty-eight crew members on Pralor Six and forty at their various stations throughout the ship.”
“Do I have any escape pods, fighters or mini-freighters unaccounted for?”
“One fighter is missing. It is Dak29.”
“I believe that is Nakoo’s fighter. Verify if he is onboard.”
“Yes. He is sleeping on the floor in Loading Bay Two.”
“Fuck.” Crawling out of bed, I stalk over to my computer console. “Healer Jarnok, you are probably needed in Loading Bay Two. Respond immediately.”
Lehar’s anxious voice drifts over my communicator. “Is everything alright, sir?”
“Our visitor has escaped from my quarters.”
“Did you not think to lock her up? She’s a slave who escaped her masters. That fact alone makes her a flight risk.”
“I didn’t think to lock her up because she was quite a bit more docile and cooperative when I brought her to my room last evening.”
Snorting a laugh, my first officer retorts, “A night in your bed is enough to frighten any woman.”
“Start scanning for her exhaust trail. She took one of our fighters.”
“Ah, I see she chose Nakoo’s fighter. It’s one of the fastest we own. The brooder must have wanted to put some distance between the two of you and fast.”
“You’re not funny, Lehar. You’re strange and look as though you should be. Unfortunately, you’re just not.”
“Ouch, that hurt.”
“You had better be scanning while you dream up new and ever more interesting insults to hurl at your captain.”
“I’ve got it, but you’re not going to be very happy.”
“Spit it out.”
“The ship was recently fueled and, as you well know, we have been following your orders to retrofit all our fighters with back up fuel tanks.”
“I wish to increase our patrolling and scouting range.”
“You just increased the human’s ability to travel thirty percent further between fuel ups. Nakoo was up half the night retrofitting his fighter to meet your new specs.” Lehar’s voice turns empathetic. “Sorry, sir. If you’d like, I can recall our crew members from Pralor Six and we can make haste after her.”
“We’ll be making haste all right, but I’ll not disrupt my crew’s shore leave. Tell them to stay until our return. We have more than enough crew to track down one errant slave.”
“Yes, sir.”
As messages begin coming in, my worse fear is realized. The female that I thought was growing to care for me clobbered one of my crew members over the head and stole his fighter. The healer diagnosed Nakoo with a minor concussion and is certain he will be fine. The pilot reports someone hit him from behind with a metal tool he was using to work on his small craft.
This is all on me. I never once suspected the human could brutalize someone. That’s what I get for trusting a feral animal. They always eventually bite the hand that feeds them. How my father controls his female is a mystery to me. No sooner do I think the words than I know how he does it. We are evenly matched in every way, save one. He was chosen by a mate and I wasn’t. The few who remained long enough to test compatibility left immediately afterwards. Carissa just did the same. It must be true what they say. I’m a flawed male with no hope of continuing his line.
So be it. If I am to live my life being consoled only by the lies of a paid seductress, I will forgo all honor. Tarion of the Hielsrane will become the monster they all believe me to be, wreaking havoc on all who would turn their back on me and all who seek to take advantage of my kindness.
Bloodletting will become my new sport, beginning with the betrayer of my heart. I will teach her that Tarion of the Hielsrane is not to be underestimated, used or double-crossed. When I get my claws into her, she will live just long enough regret every single one of her lies
Stepping into the shower, I begin to wonder many things as the warm water flows over my body. It is apparent that she lied about wishing to stay at my side. It calls into question all the other things she said. Has she really been a slave all her life? Was she harvested into slavery as an innocent child or because of some criminal act? Does she really wish to seek out her mother or was that a lie to gain my sympathy? I’m disgusted with myself, as I realize that if that was her plan all along, she succeeded beyond her wildest dreams.
I jerk on a clean uniform as I mull over my options. I will have my revenge, for I no longer care about subtle distinctions such as the difference between justice and retribution. As petty as it sounds, I wish to deal her pain for the pain she has caused me.
I fold my wings carefully behind my back and walk to the bridge wearing my warrior’s face once again. Unwilling to allow them to see my pain, I lower myself into my chair and listen to reports from my crew.
They tell me what I know already. The fighter that Carissa has stolen is faster and more maneuverable than my ship. That means we
