I remembered that Ranel had initially been prepared to disobey the orders this leader had given. Was he new to command, perhaps? Younger than most in his position, maybe a bit unsure of himself or unseasoned in the eyes of his crew?
Could I find a way to use that against him?
“Aren't you worried, being in here alone with me?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. I wanted to see if I could get him to more acutely betray his own lack of confidence.
But if he was at all intimidated or taken aback, he gave no sign. Instead, he tilted his head almost mockingly, his reptilian eyes looking me up and down slowly. “You are a human. You have soft skin, relatively frail bones, and systems of internal organs which can easily be crushed. I could break you with one hand, if I were so inclined. So no, I'm not especially concerned.”
“You do have questions for me, though,” I prodded. “Like how a human slave merits a durabilium collar, and whether it means I have anything useful to tell you about how to defeat the remaining Pax.”
“If you managed to distinguish yourself to them enough to receive a collar like that one, not to mention access to their command center and a sidearm, then yes, I'm fairly certain you have data which would prove valuable to us.”
“Sorry to disappoint you,” I shot back. “I was just a slave with a slightly higher rank and some basic supervisory privileges. I only got access to the command center and the gun because the Pax overseer was a coward.”
I was playing it fiesty, but I was also sticking out my chest and hips in all the right ways – making him confuse my defiance with a form of flirtation. Acting subservient would be suspicious. Letting him feel like he could tame me was a better strategy, since it would stroke his ego.
“So if I'm to believe your story – and I don't – then you have no information whatsoever about where the other Pax would hide while planning a counter-offensive?”
“None. I never met the other Pax, and I never left N-7. For all I know, the other mining colonies didn't even exist. They could have been fairy tales the overseers told us to make us think theirs was a bigger and more important operation than it actually was.”
Nonsense, of course. I hadn't been to the other colonies, true, but I was well aware they existed. I was trying to get a rise out of him.
It worked.
“I can assure you, based on the combat reports we've received, they exist.”
“Well, congratulations,” I shrugged. “You officially know more about it than I do.”
“Before we continue,” he said, “may I know your name? I expected to find it on your collar, as you Earthers used to do to label your house pets, but it's not there.”
“My name is Natalie,” I informed him, “and I was a worker, not a 'pet.' Anyway, what do you know of Earthers?”
“More than you might think. Enough, for example, to determine the most vulnerable points in their physiology in order to cause them a maximum amount of pain should they try to deceive me.”
“Well, before we get to that bit of fun, what should I call you?”
“Oh, based on your insouciant tone, I'm sure you've got any number of ideas on what to 'call me,'” he chuckled. “But my given name is Dashel, and I hold the rank of captain in the Hielsrane fleet.”
“Pleased to meet you.”
“Likewise. Now then, Natalie – if that is indeed your real name – has it occurred to you that if you have no information to provide, I have no further need to keep you alive?”
“Giving up so soon?” I teased. “That hardly sounds like the level of dedication I'd expect from a captain on a crucial mission. And from the way you've been staring at me ever since you first saw me on the planet's surface, I'm betting you're thinking of plenty of reasons to keep me around.” I took a step toward him suggestively.
He took a step toward me as well, leering. “You believe you can gain some advantage by tempting me with sex, is that it? You think I'm that weak and predictable?”
“Hey, weakness and predictability have nothing to do with it. I've been a slave long enough to know how things work. You've got me, I'm yours, you can obviously do whatever you want with me. I may as well offer myself up willingly to save us both a lot of hassle. And besides, whether you have your way with me or not, what 'advantage' could I hope to gain? If you've achieved the rank of captain, I have to believe you're disciplined enough to make sure you don't drop your guard just because you drop your pants. Or am I wrong?”
He licked his lips with a forked tongue. I found the gesture strangely alluring. He wanted me so badly that the air between us seemed to throb with a powerful energy, like raw radiation emanating from a star drive.
“You're not wrong,” he replied.
“Yeah? Then prove it,” I dared him.
He closed the gap between us then, suddenly, like a raptor descending hungrily on its prey. His lips pressed against mine, cool and smooth, his thin tongue caressing my own. There was a peculiar sweetness to his breath that I didn't expect. Did his kind breathe fire, like the dragons of Earth lore? If so, did the chemical enzymes in his saliva help him produce and control the flame? I knew I should ask him later.
I told myself it was because such knowledge might give me a tactical advantage I could use, but the truth was, something about his race – about him, specifically – was fascinating me more with each passing moment.
As a child – a whole galaxy away, before my life as a slave began – I had always been intrigued by the ancient Earth legends of
