Author: Kevis Hendrickson
Date: 2012-11-02 04:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Science Fiction; Romance; Fantasy; Space Opera; Young Adult
Description: Looking for a Sci-Fi novel with action and fighting?When it comes to bounty hunters, Zyra Zanr is the baddest of the baddest. But she’s got big trouble and needs some quick money to get her enemies off of her back. Enter Boris Skringler, Public Enemy #1 (and her ex-lover). Skringler is worth a ton of money to the right people. Unfortunately, he’s being held prisoner by a powerful queen who has no intentions of releasing him. Zyra’s going to have to break a few rules (and some heads) if she’s going to get Skringler. Busting the most dangerous man alive out of a heavily guarded prison isn’t the
Publisher: Pronoun

LUST AND FURY COLLIDE IN A

GALAXY ON THE VERGE OF WAR.

Fearing retribution from ruthless gangsters over an unsettled debt, intergalactic bounty hunter Zyra Zanr ventures to a distant world to collect the reward for Boris Skringler, a notorious terrorist, who has been sentenced to death by political rivals of the InterGalactic Alliance. When she fails to secure his release, she decides to break him out of prison. Zyra soon finds herself an unwilling participant in events that lead to a climactic showdown between the most powerful worlds in the galaxy.

This is a work of fiction. The events and characters described herein are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places or living persons. The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author and do not represent the opinions of any third-party publishers.

Rogue Hunter: Inquest

All Rights Reserved.

Copyright © 2012, 2015 Kevis Hendrickson

2nd Edition, V.9

Cover art by Midnight Whimsy Designs - www.midnightwhimsydesigns.com. All rights reserved – used with permission. © 2015 Kevis Hendrickson

This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

www.kevishendrickson.com

TIMELINE

Inquest

Dark Space

Life Force

Longshot

This is the second edition of Inquest. It features new content not seen in previous versions.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

It’s taken many years to bring this series to readers. I am ever striving to reach new narrative heights, and in some cases, pushing the envelope beyond what is typical for this genre. No matter how grand an idea, reality has a way of introducing gravity to a project. In spite of the ups and downs I’ve encountered along the way, I am determined to tell this story. So it’s with great pleasure that I introduce this new edition of Rogue Hunter: Inquest.

I’ve lived with Zyra Zanr ever since my formative years and I’m only now starting to appreciate what she means to me as the one who bears the responsibility of sharing her story with the world. Zyra was created during a time when there weren’t many female action heroes. Even before Xena came along and blew the genre wide open, I’d been fantasizing about a female intergalactic crime fighter of the Clint Eastwood variety. This series fills a void in the space opera genre that, to date, has not been thoroughly explored. Rogue Hunter, like its creator, continues to evolve, reflecting my adult sensibilities and tastes. Along with my readers, I watch with abated breath to see where it will end up.

Furthermore, this book addresses the major concerns that I had about the first edition. There were events in the previous telling that were not explained in the clear, concise manner that’s needed to avoid reader confusion. It also expounds upon some of the storylines for vital characters in this tale, making for a richer reading experience. This book, in its updated form, better reflects my vision of what is the first installment in a rather lengthy series of books centered around the life of the greatest bounty hunter in the galaxy. It is my hope that readers will enjoy the darker, grittier, and more mature take on Rogue Hunter even as we watch Zyra’s destiny unfold with every new installment.

K.H.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Many thanks to everyone who helped to make this book possible. The road to the publication of this book was fraught with many challenges. However, it’s the continued support of my team and readers that keep me typing late into the wee hours of the morning.

As always, I salute you all.

ROGUE HUNTER: INQUEST

CHAPTER ONE

“Okay, Prisoner 6J7912. You know the drill. Put this on.”

The cold air nipped Zyra’s flesh as she sat huddled up on the floor in a corner of her cell. She squinted, gazing through blurry eyes at the silhouette posed against the glare that crept in through the open prison door. She didn’t need to see the figure to identify her. It was the same harsh voice that greeted her every morning. The voice that made her every living moment a nightmare.

“You heard me, you scab. I said put it on!”

Zyra’s eyes cleared up enough to see Warden Chase Seris standing with her head cocked sideways and a stun baton rhythmically tapping her thigh. Seris’s eyes glowed a fierce gray under the crown of dark honey hair that was tucked into a black cap with the words Head Bitch scribbled on it. A scowl was etched into her face, giving her the visage of a shrieking ghost. After the sleepless night she’d had, the last thing Zyra wanted was to incur the woman’s wrath. She lurched forward, ignoring the female eyes observing her nude form, and crawled on her hands and knees to the one-piece uniform that Seris had tossed in a heap on the floor. She panted, lungs aching from the cold air, and forced her arms, then her legs into the uniform. Her skin itched at the scratchiness of the suit. Its rough mesh surface was as uncomfortable as wearing knots of jagged barbed wire. She gasped, afraid the suit had breached her skin. The hot, moist sensation she felt all over her body confirmed her fears. She’d have bloody welts when the day was over. Forcing someone to wear an illegal suit configuration such as this one would normally land a person behind bars, but the rules didn’t apply to Seris.

Zyra struggled to drag the bristly material over her exposed skin, but managed to slip into the suit and stand upright. She winced at the mesh as it ripped into her flesh and drew the zipper of the uniform past her navel all the way up to her throat. She heard the familiar click of the slider locking into place. Without the proper code, there would be no removing the uniform now.

“Let’s get a move on.”

Seris was growing impatient. Zyra’s legs wobbled like jelly beneath her as the world spun around her head. Her legs were so numb from being pricked and cut that she couldn’t tell anymore if she were standing or sitting. She stumbled once, her weak knees almost making her topple to the floor. She caught her balance and leaned forward slowly, determined to stay upright. She had barely taken a step when Seris whacked her in the back of the legs with her baton. Zyra let out a cry and tumbled to the floor. “That’s for making me wait. Now get up!”

***

Zyra marched down the arched corridors escorted by two guards. Sharp pinpoints of light stole across her vision as she almost blacked out with each labored step she took. Every inch of her body cried out in protest while she traveled the length of the hallway. Every time she dipped forward or leaned to the side, the guards propped her back up, shoving and dragging her along. The world swayed back and forth as more blots formed in her eyes. She winced, then squeezed her eyes shut, barely able to keep from gagging. Between the mind-altering drugs that she had been pumped full of and the beatings she had endured over the past few days, it was a miracle she could even stand.

She swallowed the bile crawling up her throat and tilted her head forward, letting the guards drag her rather than risk injury to herself. She didn’t open her eyes again until they descended a flight of marble steps that led into a large chamber. Her eyes hurt from the light beaming down on her, but she was still able to take in her surroundings. The chamber opened up like a gallery, winding about her like a coiling snake, its white marble walls lavishly adorned with reliefs portraying the world’s patron goddess, Venus. The decadent arrangement of multi-colored stained glass on the domed roof would have taken her breath away had she been a mere visitor, but she had only to glance at the feminine figures in elegant robes of white that watched her from their seats around the room to be reminded that she was not here for such a trifling purpose.

She was brought to the center of the chamber where she was made to await the start to the day’s proceedings. The glower she received from curious onlookers threatened to weaken her resolve. This was not the first time Zyra had entered the judicial chamber of the New Venus Tribunal. The dread welled up within her just the same. Her dizziness returned as she watched a familiar woman bearing a golden scepter sweep through a door directly ahead of her on the far side of the chamber.

“All rise before her venerable majesty Queen Karah Taresh!” one of the royal guards standing near the door said. Everyone in the room stood up from their seats as the woman glided to her chair. A pair of piercing green eyes gazed down on Zyra from the judge’s bench several feet above the floor where she stood. She tried to match the queen’s stoic expression, but almost fainted in the process.

“Zyra Zanr,” the queen said, her harsh voice reverberating throughout the chamber. “You have been brought before this tribunal for your crimes against the citizens of New Venus. You are charged with aiding and abetting a known criminal and conspiring to help him escape the custody of our planetary security force. How do you plead to the charge?”

“Not guilty,” Zyra said.

“You have also been charged with killing nine of our security officers. How do you plead?”

Again Zyra repeated, “Not guilty.”

“Are you aware that by entering a Not Guilty plea you are forfeiting your right to a non-capital punishment trial and that if you are found guilty of the crimes of which you are accused you will be sentenced to death?”

Zyra’s tongue grew heavy in her mouth, but she forced herself to speak. “Yes.”

“Then let the record show that Ms. Zanr has waived her right to a non-capital punishment trial,” Karah said, casting a passing glance on either side of her to the court clerks before returning her gaze to Zyra. “Before we commence with this trial, is there anything you would like to say to this court?”

“No.”

“Then let the day’s court proceedings begin.”

Zyra watched with a pensive gaze as Queen Karah struck her gavel on the bench and took her seat, prompting the rest of the women in the chamber to do the same. “Ms. Zanr. I would have you know that failure to provide truthful answers can and will result in you being held in contempt of this court. You are hereby ordered to tell the truth and recollect to the best of your ability the events that have brought you before us. Lies will not be tolerated. The truth has and always will continue to prevail here on New Venus. Is that understood?”

Zyra’s face went rigid as she muttered a simple, “Yes.”

The chamber grew silent and all eyes fixed on the queen while she scanned the reader on her bench. Zyra’s limbs shook in anticipation of the grueling interrogation she was about to endure. Her life depended on the outcome of the trial. Unfortunately, the cards were stacked against her, as was made evident by the court’s refusal to appoint her legal representation.

“Let us begin by going back to the beginning,” the queen said, her eyes appearing violet behind her narrowing gaze. “Is it true that thirteen days ago, you arrived on our planet with the intent to request extradition for the criminal Boris Skringler?”

“Yes.”

The queen lifted her eyes slowly from her reader to look at Zyra.

“Why is that?”

Zyra sensed the tension in the air. Queen Karah was going to try to make her tie her own noose. If she weren’t careful, the trial would be over before it even started.

“Skringler is, as you say, a criminal and a terrorist responsible for the deaths of many people,” Zyra said. “It was my intent to return him to the proper authorities so that he could pay for his crimes.”

“Proper authorities, you say? Are you implying that the New Venus government has no jurisdiction over Skringler?”

“Skringler is a citizen of the InterGalactic Alliance. He should be judged for his crimes by his own government.”

Karah’s eyebrows laced together to form a band of crimson.

“What of his crimes against the people of New Venus? Are our laws subsidiary to those of the InterGalactic Alliance?”

“I can’t answer that,” Zyra replied while shaking her head. She was not trying to be defiant, but the scowl on the queen’s face indicated she took offense to her answer and wasn’t going to let her avoid the question.

“Why not?” Karah asked, her voice dropping an octave.

“I’m not a citizen of New Venus. It would be difficult for me to make such a judgment.”

“Yet, you decided to break our laws to aid Skringler in escaping his punishment.” Zyra listened to the soft murmur of the women surrounding her from their raised seats around the chamber. The queen waited until the voices died down before continuing. “Let me ask you this, Ms. Zanr. Did you come to our world on behalf of the InterGalactic Alliance?”

“No.”

“Then why did you come to request Skringler’s extradition if you are not an official liaison of the InterGalactic Alliance?”

“I came for Skringler of my own accord.”

“May I ask you what your occupation is?”

The queen’s gaze bore through Zyra. The trial had only just begun and it was already turning into a spectacle.

“I’m a bounty hunter,” she replied tentatively. The women in the courtroom began to mutter amongst themselves again. Zyra’s heart skipped a beat in anticipation of the queen’s rebuttal.

“A bounty hunter? Why would the InterGalactic Alliance need to send a bounty hunter to request the extradition of a high-profile terrorist?”

“I told you, they didn’t send me. I came on my own.”

“Why should this court believe that your government did not send you?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m a bounty hunter. We’re not known as the kind of people any government can trust.”

“Or could it be that, perhaps, they trusted you?”

Zyra noticed the hint of a grin on the queen’s face, as if she had caught Zyra red-handed in a lie. She didn’t know what the queen was trying to prove by playing Gotcha! with her, especially since it was such a far-fetched idea to link someone like her to being a secret government operative.

“I can assure you this isn’t the case.”

“So, are you telling us that your government does not trust you?”

“That’s exactly what I am saying,” Zyra said, her annoyance at the entire trial turning into anger.

“Then you are not an agent of the InterGalactic Alliance?”

“I’m not.”

“And your government has never before requested your services?”

“I’m the last person my government would ever want on their payroll.”

Queen Karah eased the lines in her face and reclined in her chair. The confidence she displayed made the hair on Zyra’s nape stand on end.

“Very curious answer, Ms. Zanr. Except, we have it on good authority that you have recently been in the employ of your government.”

Zyra’s eyes widened.

“What are you talking about?”

“Is it not true that one solar year ago, the InterGalactic Alliance dispatched you to the Skaaris system to capture a fugitive named Molly Black?”

Zyra found herself scowling deeply and kept her silence.

“Please answer the question, Ms. Zanr. Were you not dispatched by your government to apprehend the fugitive Molly Black?”

Zyra’s stomach twisted. To answer truthfully would be playing into the queen’s hands. She had to choose her next words carefully.

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“We have it on record from a very reputable source that you were hired to capture Molly Black. This mission was sponsored by your government, was it not?”

“The Alliance never requested me to capture Molly Black,” Zyra said. She knew it wasn’t the truth, but it wasn’t a complete lie either. The Alliance had never sent her to capture Molly, but rather, to retrieve the energy containment cylinder that Molly had stolen from them.

“Molly Black was your friend, was she not?”

Whatever fear Zyra had felt earlier was gone now. It had been replaced with a growing contempt for the entire trial and Queen Karah as well.

“What does this have to do with anything?” she asked, not bothering to conceal the scorn in her voice.

“I’m the one asking the questions here, Ms. Zanr.”

Zyra knew she wasn’t going to win butting heads with the queen. Better to keep her cool and give herself a chance to win the trial through patience.

“We hadn’t been friends for many years.”

“Regardless, she was your friend. So when it came to your attention that she was in trouble, did you not feel the urge to help her? Even if it was under the guise of a secret government mission?”

“I have answered your question. Take it or leave it.”

Zyra fell forward screaming as Queen Karah rose from her chair with her scepter held high above her head. Her shriek echoed loudly in the chamber as she writhed in agony on the floor. She withdrew her voice a moment later when the terrible pain that wracked her senses had abated.

“We will not tolerate this kind of behavior in this court. You will mind your tongue!”

Zyra squinted as the guards grabbed her by the arms and dragged her back to her feet, lingering arcs of static electricity licking across her prison uniform. She would have ripped it clean off her body if possible, but the uniform had been designed to withstand any tampering and could only be deactivated by the warden. “Now that we have your attention, Ms. Zanr, shall we continue? Did you kill Molly Black?”

Zyra refrained from answering and knew she was testing the patience of the queen with her silence, but being tortured only made her more insolent. “Let me rephrase the question. Is Molly Black alive?”

“No,” she forced herself to say, a crease running across her brow.

“Would you mind telling this court what caused Miss Black’s death?”

“I can’t tell you.”

Queen Karah’s eyes grew stern again. Zyra held her breath and braced herself for another shock.

“You can’t tell us? Or you refuse to?”

Zyra released the air from her lungs as the tension in her shoulders eased.

“Something happened to Molly, but I can’t explain it.”

“So according to you, the InterGalactic Alliance never sent you to apprehend Molly Black. Yet, you witnessed her death. Do we have it right?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you admitted that she is dead.”

“I didn’t say that either.”

“You aren’t very forthcoming, Ms. Zanr. Is it because your government has forbidden you to reveal what happened to Molly Black?”

“I told you already. I don’t work for the Alliance.”

“But you have accepted jobs from them in the past, have you not?”

“I’m a self-employed bounty hunter. I don’t work for anyone else.”

“As you wish. This court will accept your declaration of being a bounty hunter. However, we will further explore your claim of not being an agent of the InterGalactic Alliance. But first, there are other matters we would like to investigate, such as your affiliation with Security Chief Mikaela Darr.”

Zyra frowned as she lost herself in Queen Karah’s gaze. She could not understand how things had turned so bad so quickly for her. Only days ago, she had arrived on New Venus with the intention of collecting a rather sizeable bounty for extraditing Boris Skringler back to the InterGalactic Alliance. Then, in a series of tragic mishaps, it all started to go wrong.

CHAPTER TWO

“Mika?”

Zyra dropped her heavy travel pack to the docking bay floor and threw her arms around the neck of the woman who approached her. The scent of soap and perfume wafted into her nose, making her pull the woman closer. Whatever greeting she had planned was forgotten as her skin tingled at the woman’s touch. Rounded breasts pressed against her chest, making her blush. No words were necessary to express the intimacy of their embrace. The heat of their molded forms said enough. When the silence between them had outlived its purpose, Zyra leaned back to look into the woman’s smooth face. A pair of accusatory eyes stared back at her from under dark eyebrows.

“Last time I saw you, you said you had a big job. Didn’t think you’d be gone for an entire solar year.”

Zyra’s throat tightened, making her swallow before she could form words.

“I’m sorry, Mika. I would’ve contacted you sooner, but I hit a rough patch and had to sort some things out.”

Zyra’s chest hurt from the guilt welling within her. Mikaela Darr deserved better than one of her pathetic excuses. She stood limp as the drone of a nearby crane hoisting a shuttle into an anti-grav rack echoed in her ears, and braced herself for a well-deserved tongue-lashing.

“You and your messy adventures.”

Zyra’s skin prickled when Mikaela kissed her. She flushed all over and savored the taste of the fleshy lips sucking at her mouth. Heat rushed into her belly as she matched the sensual dance of Mikaela’s tongue, remembering how much she missed her affection. She suppressed a sigh when Mikaela drew back from her and brushed an unruly lock of golden hair from her face.

“You look so pale,” Mikaela said, worry lines sketched across her brow. Zyra grinned to set her at ease.

“Hard to get a tan living on a starship.”

It was a bad joke, but she hoped it did the job.

“Well, before you go running off again, remind me to have someone install a tanning booth on your ship. You need one.”

“No kidding.”

Fatigue washed over Zyra’s face while sleep tugged at her eyes. She wasn’t exactly at her best. Long trips across deep space usually took the fight out of a person. A breath of fresh air would do her good.

“You also look like you need a drink.”

“Sounds great. Only for me, it’ll have to be something hot and sweet,” Zyra said, sobering suddenly. Mikaela matched her expression, looking grieved by Zyra’s relaxing smile. Zyra’s half-hearted attempt to soften her frown only delayed the inevitable inquiry she knew would come from it.

“Well, I know just the spot,” Mikaela replied, her bright eyes reflecting not just intelligence, but concern as well. “Let’s get you registered first. Security has been real tight lately. Best to avoid getting the locals riled up. Besides, you know how they feel about bounty hunters around here.”

“Same as everywhere else.”

Zyra picked her bag up from the floor, anxious to leave the bedlam of scurrying flight controllers and work crews as they coordinated the arrival and departure of ships. Mikaela took her free hand, squeezed it, and led her down the docking bay.

***

“Why didn’t you come back to see me? I was worried about you.”

Mikaela’s voice hung in the air, lifting Zyra’s gaze from the steaming mug on the translucent pink table. She started at the chatter of the other patrons as if suddenly realizing she wasn’t alone.

“What?”

Mikaela’s sharpening eyes jolted Zyra out of her daze. They were all-knowing eyes, keen, and clairvoyant. She always hated the way Mikaela could see right through her; her ability to peer into the depths of Zyra’s soul bordered on the supernatural.

“I said, why didn’t you come back?”

Zyra’s pupils shrank under Mikaela’s intensifying gaze. She slumped in her chair, feeling naked under the other woman’s scrutiny.

“Like I said before, I had things to sort out.”

“What kind of things?”

Mikaela’s question was not unexpected. Zyra had anticipated being grilled by her for the reason of their long separation. Her cheeks flushed as ice gnawed at her veins. She shook off a shiver and took a sip of hot chocolate from her mug. Her tongue curled at the sweetness of the lumps of marshmallows melting inside her mouth.

“Better not to talk about it,” she replied after swallowing the warm drink. She lowered her mug again and avoided Mikaela’s stare.

“What’s wrong, Zyra? You can tell me.”

Zyra’s gut wrenched from the tempest of emotions raging within her. She was torn between the need for secrecy and her desire for solace. In the end, she decided it wouldn’t hurt to tell Mikaela a little bit of what was distressing her.

“Molly.”

Mikaela hefted a dark brow.

“Molly Black?”

“She died.”

“How?”

“I killed her.”

A crease formed in Mikaela’s forehead, darkening the flesh around it.

“I don’t understand. I thought you two were friends.”

“Not anymore. I can’t say much about it, but I took a job to find Molly. It’s why I left. It didn’t end well. I still can’t get her face out of my mind.”

“I’m sorry to hear this, Zyra. You can’t keep things like that bottled up inside you without getting sick.”

“I know.” The air chilled, prompting Zyra to pour more hot drink down her throat. “Problem is I think I’m losing my edge. I never flinch if I have to put someone on their back. But ever since Molly died, something inside me has snapped. It’s like I’m a different person.”

Mikaela’s face softened, removing the lines that threatened to mar her looks.

“I know killing’s tough, but you’re only human.”

“That’s just it. I don’t feel anything. Killing isn’t part of the job anymore. For me, it is the job.” Zyra frowned, unable to tell if Mikaela’s grimace was one of disapproval or condemnation. She reached for her mug, then dropped her hand, making a fist before releasing it and spreading her fingers. “I can’t shut it off. It’s like I’m always on full throttle. I’m afraid I’m going to lose control.”

Mikaela’s face appeared more pitiful than her own. She was taking on Zyra’s pain, trying to see through to the part of her that was wounded. Once again, those all-seeing eyes flashed understanding.

“This isn’t just about Molly, is it? There’s something else going on. Something you don’t want to talk about.”

Zyra’s hands, which had before chilled her, now felt warm and clammy. Perhaps she had drunk too much hot chocolate. Maybe a vodka on the rocks would calm her nerves.

“I care too much about you to let you get caught up in the mess I’m dealing with.”

A set of white fingers spread over Zyra’s knuckles.

“I can’t make you tell me what’s wrong, but I promise I’ll do what I can to help you through this.”

CHAPTER THREE

The door to the bedroom opened to allow Zyra and Mikaela entry. Soft beams of golden light from hover lamps floating around the room caught the gilded frame of the painting of the Goddess Venus that hung on the wall over the large bed. The air was sweet with fragrance, reminding Zyra of walking through a field of blooming flowers during spring. She took a deep whiff of the rosy scent and grinned. Mikaela knew how to make an impression. The point was not lost on Zyra.

She bent over to slip off her boots and socks at the door and felt her bare feet sink into the carpet. Her toes curled, tickled by the soft fibers. When she stood upright again, Mikaela was drawing her arms out of the sleeves of her jacket. Zyra’s eyes fixed on the hard nipples poking through the fabric of her tight shirt. Her mouth wet at the thought of what awaited her. She watched Mikaela unbutton the top of her shirt to expose the narrow gap between her breasts.

Heat flooded her belly, sending warmth to the insides of her thighs. She hovered beside Mikaela and began unfastening the rest of the buttons on her shirt to reveal the eggshell color of the camisole she wore beneath. A quick tug of the loose shirt freed her shoulders, allowing her to glimpse more milky-white skin. Mikaela returned the gesture and tugged the zipper of Zyra’s pants down to its furthermost point. Impatiently, Mikaela dragged the pants over her wide hips and grinned at the sight of them sagging around her ankles.

Zyra stepped out of her pants and looked past long, black lashes into the smoky gray of Mikaela’s eyes, seeing only hunger. She dragged her eyes down her radiant face and stared at luscious red lips that reminded her of other parts of Mikaela’s anatomy. They brought their mouths together, and brushed each other’s lips in a playful kiss. As sweet as the fragrance in the air was, it did not compare to the taste of Mikaela’s lips. Zyra kissed Mikaela harder before nipping her bottom lip with her teeth. Mikaela flicked her tongue at Zyra’s upper lip, wetting it. She parted her mouth to let Mikaela slip her tongue inside. Her mouth was exploding with passion, yearning for more affection from the other woman. She wanted to taste every inch of Mikaela, from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes, and everywhere in between. Zyra moaned from Mikaela’s exploring fingers, their arousing touch sending more heat into her lower body. She became a helpless slave to her lust as Mikaela led her over to the large bed where they sank into its mattress, both eager to make sensual music that would bring even the Goddess of Love to tears.

***

Zyra didn’t know how long she had been lying with her head resting on Mikaela’s lap, feeling more intoxicated from the aroma of sweat and sex than the drinks they had imbibed earlier. She blinked her drowsy eyes, feeling the sticky moistness within them. They closed again, tempting her to drift off to sleep while she listened to the hypnotic cadence of Mikaela humming a melody.

Her thoughts were lost to a haze of lingering lust and weariness. Mingled with them were the current events Mikaela had told her about. The increasing rift between the InterGalactic Alliance and the Legion of Worlds was no small matter. If things continued to deteriorate, there would be a complete meltdown in peace negotiations. That could only lead to one thing.

War.

Unfortunately, New Venus was caught right smack in the middle. Sensing that a military confrontation with the Legion of Worlds was inevitable, the Alliance was determined to annex as many worlds as they could. They had put unprecedented pressure on the Venusians to give up their independence to join the Alliance, but Queen Karah would not budge and rebuffed all attempts to make her give up her people’s sovereignty.

Zyra feared what would happen if the Alliance decided to invade New Venus. The Venusians were among the fiercest warriors in the galaxy and she had no doubt of their ability to defend their world. However, a lone planet could not withstand the full might of the Alliance for long. Tens of thousands of worlds were in league with the Alliance and were at the beck and call of the High Command. There would be nothing left of New Venus but dust if a conflict ever arose between them and the Alliance. However, the Venusians were stubbornly proud. Zyra was certain they would let themselves be destroyed before ever submitting to a foreign ruler.

Mikaela, like the rest of her generation, had been pressed into the reserve army and would likely see action in the front lines against the Alliance the moment battle began. Zyra’s heart ached at the thought of Mikaela being slaughtered in battle against the rugged soldiers of the Alliance. If she was a religious person, she might have prayed for the life of Mikaela. All she could do now was hope for the best and surrender to the soothing tone of Mikaela’s song. When the humming stopped, Zyra’s eyes fluttered as she woke from the spell Mikaela had woven.

“I’ve been thinking about what you told me tonight, Zyra.”

Mikaela’s words drew her out of her skin. The sleep fell away from her in a nervous cascade as she braced herself for Mikaela’s words.

“I’m wondering if the reason you’re suffering is because you’re not living the life you’re supposed to.”

A hastily drawn breath caught in Zyra’s throat. Muscles knotted in her back, making her cringe. She hardly noticed Mikaela brushing her fingers through her mane of golden hair. She inhaled again, forced a shuddering breath deep into her lungs as the scent of dried sweat and lotion from Mikaela’s body grew more pronounced.

“I’ve thought about that,” she replied while fixing her gaze on the reflection of her limp body in the mirror above the vanity across the room. For some reason, she couldn’t make out the details of her face.

“Then why waste your life chasing after criminals?”

Zyra forced a sigh out of her lungs. She didn’t want to have this conversation now. She didn’t want to ruin the bliss of their reunion with thoughts of her hellish life. At least, not until the sweat of their lust had cooled from her body.

“I don’t know. Hunting’s what I do. I don’t have anything else.”

She spoke those words as if she were speaking about someone else—someone unfamiliar and alien.

“You’ve always hated me saying it. But what kind of life can you expect to have being a bounty hunter? Don’t you want to have someone waiting at home for you?”

The darkness of the room grew darker, cloaking itself around Zyra like an impenetrable coat made of everything she hated in the universe.

“I can’t worry about that right now.”

It was the truth, but she still felt sick saying it.

“How long do you plan to live this way?”

“As long as it takes.”

“To do what?”

“To make things right.”

“Zyra...” Silence filled the breach between Mikaela’s words as her voice drifted off before returning. “You can’t bring your father back.”

A snake coiled in Zyra’s stomach and she rose up from Mikaela’s lap. She sat motionlessly beside her, pushing back the image of the man Mikaela had invoked. She didn’t respond until the knot in her stomach loosened.

“It’s not about him anymore.”

Zyra’s illness grew when Mikaela’s voice settled into an argumentative note.

“You carry these demons inside you, waging a private war against the scum of the universe. If it’s not about you getting payback for your father, then what is it about?”

Zyra let out a stifled breath and pulled her knees to her chest so she could rest her head on them. She withdrew from Mikaela and sank into a place she had not dared to look, a place where only shame and misery existed.

“I don’t know, Mika. All I know is I can’t stop. Not yet.”

Zyra shut her eyes, knowing Mikaela would not relent. She would never give Zyra the peace she wanted now. Not until she had completed her interrogation.

“You don’t get it, do you, Zyra? You can’t fight the whole universe by yourself.”

“I know that.”

“Then stop hurting yourself like this. It’s the killing that’s making you sick.”

Zyra allowed her eyes to open and peered across the bedroom into nowhere. She heard the soft thump-thumps of her heart growing louder.

“I won’t say that I’m happy about everything I’ve done as a hunter, but I’ve done good too.”

“That’s not the point.” What was the point? To force Zyra to confront something she would otherwise not confront? To face her deepest fears? Her worst regrets? What did Mikaela think would come of this forced introspection into the darkest depths of her soul? Zyra had neither the will nor the courage to follow through on any of it. Yet she knew she had not endured the worst of Mikaela’s interrogation. A tremble shook her limbs as she braced herself for the inevitable. “You do want to have children one day, don’t you? Have you considered what could happen to them?”

“Every day.”

“Then you know what I know, don’t you? You’re a bounty hunter. By opposing the galaxy’s worst criminals, you’ll have more enemies than you can ever imagine. Even if you decide to live a normal life a few years from now, your enemies won’t ever forgive you. And they won’t forget. They’ll come back for you. You and your children.”

Zyra’s face turned a pale white as she squeezed her eyes shut. She didn’t notice Mikaela’s rueful stare. “I’m sorry, Zyra. I don’t mean to upset you. It’s just...I’m afraid for you. You haven’t even told me why you came back. I know it wasn’t to see me.”

“Skringler.”

The name tumbled out of her mouth before she realized she had even said it.

“Boris Skringler?”

“I came to ask your government to release him into my custody. I want to take him back to the Alliance.”

“Why?”

Zyra’s eyes opened to take in the darkness again. She turned her head just enough to look at Mikaela out of the corner of her eyes.

“What else? The bounty. He’s worth a whole lot to me if I bring him in.”

Mikaela sighed.

“I hate to break it to you, Zyra, but Skringler isn’t going anywhere. Not if Queen Karah has anything to say about it.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Positive. Skringler messed up real bad by coming to New Venus. There isn’t a chance in hell the queen will let him go.”

“Why not?”

Mikaela’s voice dropped an octave.

“You know our laws. No male, human or otherwise, is allowed to come within distance of our farthest moon. Any male caught trespassing on New Venus gets a one-way trip to an execution. In Skringler’s case, he offended the queen’s sensibilities by pretending to be a woman. He might have gotten away with it if his Changeling suit didn’t conk out on him during the queen’s inaugural parade.”

Zyra sat upright and shifted her hips so that her legs could hang off the edge of the bed. Skringler had made a mistake thinking he could hide from the Alliance by posing as a woman on New Venus. It was a mistake that would cost him his life.

“No offense, but I can’t understand why your queen would condemn a man to death simply because he’s a man.”

“Why go through the fuss of trying to figure it out? The law is the law and Skringler knew the risk he was taking when he came to our world. Now he’s going to be a victim of the Queen’s Death Crown.”

Zyra’s pupils shrank as she stood up and walked across the room toward the soft light of the hover lamp. Her toes dug into the soft carpet as she eyeballed the pistol lying in the holster on the vanity. She ran a thumb along the sleek metal surface of the weapon and pursed her lips.

Not if I can help it. One way or another, Skringler’s coming back with me.

CHAPTER FOUR

Zyra’s eyes, a blue deeper than the ocean’s depths, blinked back into focus when she heard the loud tap of a gavel on the judge’s bench.

“I will ask you again. Will you explain to this court what your relationship is with Boris ‘Widow Maker’ Skringler?”

Zyra’s shoulders sagged a little as the loathsome name rose and fell from her lips.

“Skringler?”

“He is the reason we are all here, is he not?”

Zyra could not think clearly through the fog of memories crowding her mind. Her throat hurt to swallow while her arms felt like blocks of lead. Worse, her head hurt from the blood pounding in her ears. Between the beatings she had suffered, sleep deprivation, and the heavy dose of amobarbital Warden Seris had pumped into her bloodstream to soften her up for the queen’s cross-examination, it took everything she had just to keep from passing out.

“We are waiting for your reply, Ms. Zanr.”

“I-I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”

“I think my question speaks for itself. What is your relationship with Skringler?”

Zyra’s face grew contemplative. Any answer she gave would almost certainly incriminate her. In the prevailing environment, just establishing a history between herself and Skringler would be enough to condemn her. Queen Karah was intent on tripping her up. Baiting her into her fox trap with a carefully presented premise was a clever ruse. Zyra wondered how she would navigate this dangerous minefield without setting off an explosion.

“I have no relationship with Boris Skringler,” she said. “He’s a terrorist who deserves to be brought to justice for his crimes against the people of the InterGalactic Alliance. It’s my intent to see to it that he pays for those crimes.”

Zyra watched Karah place her palms flat on the bench as she looked askance at her.

“Are you saying that until your arrival on New Venus, you had had no dealings with Skringler?”

“I have met Skringler before, if that’s what you want to know.”

“What we want to know is your reason for helping Skringler escape from his detention cell in our maximum-security prison. Will you tell us what that reason is?”

Zyra sucked in a deep breath and held it until her chest hurt before speaking again. “I didn’t agree with your reasons for sentencing him to death.”

“So, because you didn’t agree with our reasons for sentencing Skringler to death, you decided to help him avoid his execution?”

“Yes.”

She couldn’t tell from the way Karah shifted in her seat whether she were ecstatic or upset by Zyra’s response.

“I have to admit that this court is confused, Ms. Zanr. A short while ago we asked you if you thought the laws of New Venus were subsidiary to those of the InterGalactic Alliance. Your response was that as you are not a citizen of New Venus, it would be difficult for you to make such a judgment. Yet, in spite of your supposed indifference, you decided to free Skringler from his cell, and in so doing, cost nine brave and venerable women their lives. Do you still claim neutrality to our laws?”

The queen’s question burned at Zyra, drawing her out of her shell. Whatever reservation she felt in the queen’s presence was brushed aside so she could finally speak her mind.

“It isn’t right.”

Silence hung in the air as Zyra’s words caught the queen off-guard.

“What isn’t right?” Karah asked, eyes squinting in the effort to read Zyra’s stoic face.

“Boris Skringler is a criminal who deserves to face whatever punishment awaits him for his crimes. But if he is to be executed, it shouldn’t be for the reason your people have vilified him.”

Karah’s face darkened as she drove her nails into the bench.

“Who are you to make that judgment, Ms. Zanr? We of this court uphold the law. The law is what governs our people. It keeps us safe. Without the law there would be anarchy.”

“Your laws are wrong!”

Zyra wavered from her lightheadedness even as she surprised herself with her outburst.

“Now we come to it, don’t we, Ms. Zanr? Finally, you reveal to us what stirs in your heart. Would you care to elaborate on why you think our laws are wrong?”

Again, Zyra swelled with courage, determined to prove the hypocrisy of the entire trial. The scorn in her voice took everyone in the room by surprise.

“You claim to be champions of truth and justice. Yet, you would execute a man for no other reason than because he exists.”

“You are wrong, Ms. Zanr. We have sentenced Boris Skringler to death because he violated our sovereignty law.”

“Then it’s a stupid law!”

“Our world is a peaceful one. We have no crime. No murder. No wars. We are at peace because we have expelled the dissidents of our race from our world. Men are inherently violent. Were it not for their kind we would not be condemned to live in this city deep beneath the surface of our world. This planet would be pristine and beautiful as it once was, not ruined by the ignorance of past wars waged by lawless, barbaric men.”

“There’s no justice in killing a man because he’s a man.”

“‘Extreme justice is an extreme injury,’ is that it?”

“I’m not saying Skringler shouldn’t be punished. But when he dies, it should be because of what he’s done, not what he is.”

Hushed voices spoke into the queen’s ears. She kept her face harsh as she listened to her aides. Zyra had openly defied not only the queen, but Venusian law as well. This was something no one had ever done since the formation of the new global government and it put everyone in the room on edge. She caught the hint of disapproval in the eyes of the guards standing beside her. She would most likely pay for her outburst on her way back to her cell.

“Again, I ask you. Who are you to decide how we should live here on New Venus? You are not one of us. You have not endured what we women of this world have endured. The scourge of men is over and we will not have it return to us!”

“Then send Skringler back to the Alliance. Let him pay for his crimes, but don’t take his life like this!”

“We would think that you would be more concerned with your own fate, Ms. Zanr.”

“I don’t claim to be a saint, but I couldn’t stand by and watch you execute Skringler for the reason you have chosen. That’s why I helped him escape. If I am guilty of saving a man’s life, then that’s a crime I can live with.”

“No, Ms. Zanr. That is a crime which will most definitely cost you your life.”

Zyra frowned, acknowledging the truth of the queen’s words.

“Now that you have all but doomed yourself with this admission, we will give you one final chance to save your life. Are you an agent of the InterGalactic Alliance?”

Zyra flared with anger again.

“I told you I’m not!”

“If you tell us the truth and admit to your government’s complicity in this affair, you may receive a royal pardon. As queen of New Venus, I can grant you that.”

“I’m not a spy.”

“But Skringler was once a spy for your government, was he not?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Really?”

“All I know about Skringler is that he is a fugitive and enemy of the InterGalactic Alliance.”

“If that was all you knew about him, Ms. Zanr, then you wouldn’t be a very good bounty hunter, now would you?”

“What are you getting at?”

The hairs on the back of Zyra’s neck stiffened. She knew this was the moment the queen had been waiting for. She searched for her next breath, but it didn’t come.

“Is it not true the real reason you broke Skringler out of prison is because your government asked you to?”

“No.”

“If you did not break Skringler out of prisoner because the Alliance sent you to, then there must be another reason.”

“I’ve already told you why I helped him.”

“Oh, yes. You risked your life to free Skringler because you objected to our laws. An intriguing tale, but not very convincing.”

“What?”

“Do you think so poorly of this court that you did not imagine we would learn all we could about you? We know everything about you, Ms. Zanr, including the true nature of your relationship with Skringler.”

“I have no relationship with Skringler!”

“You can stop the pretenses. We have done our research and uncovered some interesting facts about you. It would seem that you and Skringler were once lovers. Is that not so?”

“I…”

“No need to be ashamed. You are not a Venusian. We do not expect you to share our lifestyle.”

Pins stabbed at Zyra’s chest. She should have seen it coming a mile away. Her buried past wasn’t nearly as buried as she thought it was.

“That was long ago.”

Her words sounded more like a wheeze than actual speech. She felt defeated, beaten like a vanquished soldier who had been left to die on the battlefield staring pitifully at the vultures that circled in the sky above.

“Not so long ago, Ms. Zanr. Was it not Skringler who helped you begin your career as an intergalactic bounty hunter? In fact, Skringler was your partner in more ways than one. You didn’t really think you could keep such secrets from this court, did you? Admit it, you are in love with Skringler and wanted to spare his death.”

“No!”

“No?”

“That isn’t why I saved him.”

Queen Karah shot up from her bench, face wrenched in anger.

“Then which reason is it, Ms. Zanr? You say you are not a spy. You say you are not in love with Skringler. Which reason is it?”

“I told you why!”

Queen Karah was a fierce woman and one who had gained her title through acts of valor on the battlefield. The way her crimson locks fell across her face, she looked as though she were the Goddess Hera raging at a helpless infant in his crib. Suddenly, the rumors of Karah killing over one thousand men in battle didn’t sound so far-fetched.

“Let us assume for a moment that you are telling the truth. You found fault with our sovereignty laws, armed yourself, stormed into our most secured prison, and murdered nine guards in your attempt to free Skringler. In your attempt to save a criminal’s life, you broke our laws, and thus condemned yourself by, in turn, becoming a criminal yourself. Are these the actions of someone who professes to respect and uphold the laws of their own government?”

“Not every bounty hunter respects the law,” Zyra said, hoping it was enough to pacify the incensed queen.

“No. But you do, don’t you? Unlike most bounty hunters who seek fame, glory, riches, and adventure, you chose your occupation under far different circumstances, did you not?”

Karah’s face softened as though satisfied with her well-aimed shot at Zyra. The arrow flew through the air, speeding toward its target. Karah sank back into her chair and folded her hands on the bench waiting for it to strike.

“I don’t know how to answer that.”

“Then let me assist you. Is it not true that the reason you became a bounty hunter was to take revenge on the people responsible for murdering your father?”

“This has nothing to do with my father!”

Zyra’s anger was apparent to all. The subject of her father’s death wasn’t something she took lightly. Having it brought up for public discourse brought her rage bubbling up to the surface.

“You are on trial because you broke the laws of our world. You, who claim to be seeking justice for your dead father. Admit it, Ms. Zanr. The facts don’t add up. Granted, you have blood on your hands and are, as you say, not a saint. But this court is not blind to the good you have done for the galaxy, even in as disreputable an occupation as yours. No, Ms. Zanr. It does not require much imagination to recognize that you have been sent here by the Alliance to undermine this government.”

The dam that kept her fury at bay finally broke. Zyra took a wide step toward Karah prompting the guards to restrain her.

“Where are you getting these ideas? I told you I’m no spy! The Alliance has nothing to do with me being here. I’m a bounty hunter. I capture criminals for money. That’s it!”

“With every word you utter you doom yourself even further. There is a rift in your rebuttal that cannot be crossed. Either you are a criminal, Ms. Zanr, or you aren’t. Which one is it?”

Zyra realized Queen Karah had her cornered. There was nothing she could say to escape the trap she had fallen into. If she denied her innocence, then she was admitting that she was a criminal and had no regret for what she had done or the lives that had been lost in the process, and would be sentenced to death. On the other hand, if she continued to defend herself, she would be implicating the InterGalactic Alliance in her actions and would thus be sentenced to death by her own government for treason. Zyra was hard pressed to find a way out of her crisis.

CHAPTER FIVE

With a purposeful stride, Zyra strolled down the narrow corridor that led past a queue of rusty cell doors. The dusty bowl-shaped light fixtures bolted to the low ceiling made the cellblock look ancient. The glow they gave off was inadequate to penetrate the darkness surrounding her. The darkness clung to everything: the walls, the bars on the cell doors, the heavy iron gates sprawled along the narrow hallways, even the ruts in the refurbished sections of the ancient walls. It was so thick it turned her stomach. Zyra always grew queasy when visiting Synax Prison. The architects who designed it had done so with the intent of crushing the souls of its permanent residents. Prisoners would take their own lives from being trapped in the stifling gloom long before they ever thought to become unruly.

No matter how many times she frequented the prison, Zyra could never shake the chill that crept into her bones. She recalled the dreadful tales she had heard of the horrible experiments that had been performed on women here in the depths of the prison where no one could see or help them. What had come of those experiments, she never knew. But the memory lingered and left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Zyra strained to see in the darkness and listened to the soft clicks of her own boots on the hard floor, but the glint from the pommel of her escort’s sword brought her vision into focus. She scrolled her eyes down to see intricate lacework emblazoned onto the hilt. The scabbard slung over the guard’s back kept her from seeing most of the weapon, but the craftsmanship was noticeable at a single glance. Zyra knew how much Venusians worshipped their swords, but it still amazed her that a lowly prison guard would own such an impressive one.

The Venusians had made sword-bearing an institution. It was not surprising to see guards such as her escort carrying one. She suspected the tradition of arming their people with bladed weapons had been ceremonial in the beginning. But, in time, the Venusians made owning and using swords a permanent part of their culture. Their children were barely old enough to walk when they began their life-long obsession with swords. By the time they were in their teens, they were experts with their blades. Anyone who made the mistake of threatening a Venusian thinking they carried them as a prop would learn a harsh and fatal lesson.

Zyra focused on her surroundings again when her escort turned the corner and led her to the end of the cellblock where a single iron door faced them. Another guard, dressed in muted two-tone gray fatigues that made her blend into the darkness, was stationed outside the door. With her jaw clenched, she gave Zyra a careful once over.

“She’s clean,” said the guard who had escorted her to the cell. “Had her checked at the gate.”

The door guard was insistent on inspecting Zyra and raised her baton in the direction of the nearby wall, indicating for Zyra to walk over to it. She avoided making eye contact with the woman and did as she had been instructed, making the perfunctory steps to the wall. As soon as she laid her palms flat on them, the guard tapped the back of her legs. She spread them apart. The inside of her thighs were tapped again harder, making her spread them further. Zyra wasn’t in the mood for horsing around. If this guard had any ulterior motives...

“More,” the guard said. This guard was a hothead—or worse, a pervert. Zyra’s eyes narrowed as she widened her stance again.

This had better not get out of hand.

Zyra stood still, enduring the guard’s hands roaming her body. She flushed with anger when the guard’s wandering fingers lingered around the most guarded areas of her anatomy. She turned and shot the guard with a glower, watching her bent form feel around her buttocks and then back between her thighs. Her eyes were aflame, silently communicating her intent to break the guard’s hands if she kept it up. The guard must have gotten the point, for no sooner had she looked up at Zyra than she stood upright and backed away from her. The guard avoided Zyra’s gaze, removed a plastic strip from her shirt pocket, and unlocked the door with her security card. She stepped back to let Zyra and her escort pass. Zyra gave the guard a parting glare before strolling into the cell behind her escort.

On the other side of the door, the darkness was thick enough to choke Zyra. When her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she was able to make out the shape of a man lying flat on a wall-mounted cot on the opposite end of the bars that stood in front of her.

“You have a visitor, Skringler,” the guard said, her hips wagging behind her as she turned to leave the cell.

“My own fan club. Lucky me,” Skringler replied, the drawl of his thick Scottish accent echoing off of the metal walls. Zyra watched him raise a hand to guard his eyes from the harsh light slanting in from outside the cell door. His face lit up when he saw her. “Zanr? I should’ve known you’d show up.”

“We’re just joined at the hip, aren’t we?” she asked, the reek of old piss wrinkling her nose.

“Thought you got tired of chasin’ me from one side of the galaxy to the other.”

“Oh, I always make time for you, Skringler.”

“You’re a regular ball buster, y’ know that?”

“Call it a talent.”

Skringler made a sound in his throat that was somewhere between a grunt and a chuckle. He lay back down on his cot, folded his hands behind his head, and shut his eyes.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes, Zanr. Used to have this photo of you, my favorite. Lost it while jumpin’ trawlers over on Dar Kabaros to keep from gettin’ nabbed by the IGP. Not my best day for sure. But I still got that picture of you in my mind, only you’re not wearin’ much, ‘cept maybe a tattoo—and you know how much I love tattoos on a woman, especially on the right spot. It’s a damn good picture and keeps a smile on my face. Just that picture of you, a spot o’ lube, and watch the boys fly.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Don’t know what the word means. Maybe you’d like to come over here and teach me.”

“I didn’t come here to play games with you,” Zyra said, feeling her skin start to itch. She had to resist the urge to scratch her arm.

“No, you’re too precious for that. Not like these Fluffies. Can’t take a piss without one of ‘em trying to get up close and personal. But I take it you didn’t come here for the peep show?”

“No. I’m taking you back to the Alliance,” Zyra said, unruffled by the vulgar reference to women who didn’t shave their pubic areas. Hearing Skringler co-opt pirate slang to insult the Venusians only made the term raunchier. She watched him sit up from the cot and turn to put his bare feet on the floor. His eyes crawled over the full length of her. If he was trying to intimidate her with his crude behavior, he didn’t succeed. The grin that tugged at his face failed to conceal his disappointment.

“You’ve changed.”

Zyra didn’t like the way Skringler looked at her. It reminded her of a hungry bear watching a trout flop around in a shallow pool. She had been a teenager the last time he dragged those eyes over her body. She had indeed changed since then. But this time, she wasn’t going to fall for his shenanigans. She had suffered too much over the years to ever let that happen again.

“I’ve grown up.”

“You sure have.”

Appearing to have had his fill of feasting his eyes on her soft curves, Skringler stood up and hovered over to the bars that kept him on his side of the cell. Zyra ignored the hard muscles of his hairy chest and fixed her gaze on his face.

“So,” he said, leaning as far into the bars as he could to peer into her eyes. “What’s this talk of taking me back home?”

“You know what you did. You didn’t think they forgot, did you?”

“A man could hope.”

Zyra wanted to back away from the bars. Being so close to Skringler—just the scent of him—was bringing back old memories. Ones she did not want to remember. But she stood her ground, fearing that he would perceive her walking away from him as a weakness. That could prove lethal in the presence of a viper like him.

“You’re not getting off the hook that easy.”

“Maybe. Or maybe you’re tired of being lonely and want my company.”

“How I feel doesn’t matter. Only that you pay for your crimes.”

Skringler chuckled and pressed his forehead against the bars to improve his view of Zyra. They were almost close enough to touch. Close enough to kiss.

“Don’t you know? I’m a dead man walkin’.”

Zyra’s skin tickled from his warm breath on her face. She didn’t even realize that her voice had softened until after she spoke.

“You were always a dead man walking.”

“A man’s gotta die sometime.”

She caught her reflection in Skringler’s eyes, unable to stand his gaze or the heat from his lips any more. She spun around and took solace in the distance she put between them.

“As long as it’s after I deliver you to the IGP, you can bite the dust whenever you like.”

“You’re hurtin’ my feelings.”

“You don’t have any feelings.”

“I’ve got feelings, all right. Just don’t listen to ’em anymore.”

Zyra whipped around, feeling a mixture of guilt and anger.

“Maybe you should. Might make you seem human again.”

She rolled her eyes when Skringler laughed, appearing to be enjoying her company more than she would have liked.

“What about you?” he said. “I heard you’ve turned into a real ice maker.”

“I’m nothing like you. You murdered those people in cold-blood.”

“Not the least of my sins, but I gave ’em a quick sendoff if it means anything. Not like you. I hear you like to take your time.”

“Maybe I’ll get lucky and add you to my list of victims.”

“Now, that’s my girl!”

“Enough of this,” Zyra said, closing the distance between herself and Skringler in one stride. “I just came by to let you know that I’m taking you back. So don’t get comfortable.”

“I’ll kiss you on the lips if you get me out of this place.”

“I’ll get all the reward I need when I turn you in,” Zyra said as she spun around to leave the cell.

“Love you too, Sweetheart.”

She ignored Skringler’s taunt and passed out of his vision.

CHAPTER SIX

Zyra matched the stride of the royal guards who escorted her over the threshold into the queen’s inner sanctum. The velvety reds of the tapestries hanging on the walls framing the massive hallways boasted of the vast expense used to decorate her surroundings. Wine colored rugs lined the tiled floor before giving way to a cool marble surface. The click of the guards’ leather heeled boots on the floor echoed in her ears. Everything was so extravagantly composed, from the arched windows and colonnades that propped up the vaulted ceilings to the bronze and gold trimming along the base of marble statues decorating the hallway, that she almost expected to see a line of trumpeters playing a loud fanfare to herald the arrival of the queen.

After a long walk down a cloistered section of the palace, she was brought to a door where a pair of guards stood attentively. Her escorts motioned for her to continue through the door just before they broke off and took their places beside the other guards. Zyra kept her gaze straight as she walked past them and through the door. She was greeted by a floral scent as she entered a wide garden that glowed with artificial light. She looked at the trail of flat limestones ahead of her that led to a trickling stream. Overlooking the stream was a small but decadent red wooden bridge where a woman was tossing breadcrumbs to the fish that swam in the reed-filled waters below.

Zyra’s gait slowed when the woman turned to look at her. Even from a distance, the woman’s fierce beauty impressed her. Queen Karah Taresh was every bit as stunning as she appeared on the vids Zyra had seen of her. She was tall and draped in cloth of spring green, with trimmings of pearl-white and silver. A circlet of red gold crowned her head. The way the light caught in her crimson hair made her look like a divine being rather than flesh and blood. There was no escaping the fact that Zyra was in the presence of royalty.

A soft breeze pushed past Zyra, lifting her golden tresses up on a sweet-scented breath of air. The tranquil surroundings almost made her lower her guard. The royal garden was the most unlikely place she could have expected to meet the queen. Zyra knew there was only one reason why this place had been chosen for their meeting. Somewhere hidden along the winding path of bushes and trees, guards had her in their sights, ready to kill her with a single shot if she even flinched. Zyra slowed her trot to a halt.

“Your Majesty,” she said, bowing her head.

“Ms. Zanr.”

At the sound of the queen’s voice, Zyra raised her stare again to peer into her green eyes. The soft light in the garden caused them to glimmer like the finest jade. As if already bored by her presence, the queen started feeding breadcrumbs to the fish again. “I am told by my consul you seek my audience. It is not my custom to meet with strangers, let alone off-worlders.”

Queen Karah’s voice was as regal as Zyra had expected it to be, but she could also detect a hint of annoyance.

“I understand, Your Majesty, and thank you for the opportunity to speak with you.”

Zyra hoped her courteous greeting would be enough to coax the woman into a friendlier mien.

“To what reason do I owe this visit?”

Zyra kept her shoulders square as she addressed Karah. “I’ve come to ask you for custody of Boris Skringler.”

Karah turned to look at her again, her eyes taking on a hard, but curious edge. “Skringler?”

“Yes.”

“Why should I do such a thing?”

Zyra noticed Karah cut her eyes at her as if more disgusted than surprised by the nature of her request. She hadn’t done anything to upset her and couldn’t understand why she was being so unpleasant. “Skringler is wanted for crimes against the InterGalactic Alliance. I would like to return him to the authorities there.”

“Why would you want to do this?”

“Because I’m a bounty hunter.”

“Bounty hunter?” Karah made no attempt to conceal the scorn in her voice. She turned back around to sprinkle the last handful of breadcrumbs into the water. “So you want to return Skringler to the Alliance so you can collect his bounty. I fail to see how this matters to me.”

“Skringler hurt a lot of people. He deserves to be punished for what he’s done.”

Karah rested her hands on the railing of the arched bridge. Zyra turned to follow her gaze as she looked into the water to watch a pair of fish fight over the last floating morsel.

“It would seem we have a conflict of interest. Skringler is currently waiting to be executed for crimes he committed against my people.”

Zyra hadn’t been in Karah’s presence long. Yet, the queen was already showing her disdain of Zyra by her refusal to look at her. She really didn’t like bounty hunters.

“I understand you are angry with him for breaking your sovereignty laws, but I can’t imagine why you would want to refuse to turn him over to the Alliance. He is much more valuable to them than you.”

“You are wrong. Skringler is quite valuable to me.”

“I don’t see how.”

The queen’s painted red lips thinned into a frown. “I don’t expect you to. You are not from this world.”

Zyra hadn’t expected her meeting with the queen to be a smooth one. She was touching on a very sore subject by attempting to gain custody of the most wanted man in the galaxy and coincidentally the most hated person on New Venus. Getting Karah to acquiesce to her request was going to require effort. “Forgive me for saying it. But what does the life of one man matter to your people?”

“Skringler matters more than you’ll ever know.”

“He’s just one man.”

“He is more than that. He is an idiot, but a useful idiot.”

Zyra shook her head. “I don’t understand why killing him means so much to you. Executing Skringler for making the mistake of coming to your world hardly seems just.”

“Yet, there will be justice in his execution.”

“No one’s going to shed a tear for him. If you’re looking for a martyr, I don’t think he’s the one.”

Karah turned her head slightly to look at Zyra out of the corner of her eyes. “I am not looking for a martyr, but Skringler’s death will certainly be a symbolic one.”

Karah was a tough nut to crack, but Zyra had known it wouldn’t be a cakewalk to get her to release her coveted prisoner. Perhaps if she dangled some fruit...

“How about a trade? I bring you the leader of the pirates who have been raiding your merchant ships and you give me Skringler.”

“You mean Captain Rador of the Libertatia?” Zyra nodded, trying to conceal her excitement over Karah’s sudden peak of interest. “That fiend has been terrorizing my shipping lanes for months. I would welcome an end to his menace. You have access to him?”

“I know where to find him.”

Not even close to being a white lie, but there was a kernel of truth to her proposal. She would gladly bring Rador to Karah, if it would secure Skringler’s release. After all, he wasn’t worth nearly as much as Skringler to the Alliance. Unfortunately, she had no clue where Rador was hiding. She hoped Karah wouldn’t call her bluff.

“Not good enough. If you had a means of catching Rador you would have done so already and collected the rather handsome bounty for his capture instead of putting forth this preposterous request.”

“I assure you. I can bring him to you.”

“You’ll appreciate my reservation in not trusting the word of a bounty hunter.”

Karah’s words stung, driving sharp pins into Zyra’s chest. Her words were not meant to hurt so much as they were intended to put her in her place. Skringler was a dead man unless Zyra thought up a way to win over the obstinate queen. She reached into the deck to play her final card. “What about the families of Skringler’s victims?”

“What about them?”

“Don’t they deserve to see him punished for murdering their loved ones?”

“The welfare of the citizens of the InterGalactic Alliance is hardly my concern. What happens to my people is.”

Karah was colder than an iceberg. If the sympathy card couldn’t get her to change her mind, perhaps using a political angle would.

“If you were to release Skringler to me, it would go a long way to easing relations between my government and yours.”

The air nipped at Zyra’s arms and face as Karah turned to meet her gaze. Green eyes bore into her with the ferocity of the evil eye.

“Are you, by chance, here at the request of your government?”

In an instant, Karah had gone from irate to downright hostile. Zyra had to get her to calm down or her plans would go down in flames.

“No, Your Majesty. But I’m sure they will be pleased to have your cooperation in this matter.”

Karah lifted her chin and narrowed her eyes. It was the look one gave someone who had managed to wear out her welcome.

“I’m afraid I will have to decline your request. Boris Skringler’s execution will be carried out a week from now. Give my regards to your President.”

“But he didn’t send me here.”

“Good day, Ms. Zanr. Please enjoy the rest of your stay here on New Venus.”

Karah turned away from Zyra and returned her gaze to the chattering stream. Zyra realized the meeting was over and that she would have to go home empty-handed and lick her wounds. In a final display of respect, she made a slight bow to the queen and left the bridge.

***

The hours had ticked by uneventfully as Zyra downed one drink after another at the Speeding Comet, the bar Mikaela had introduced her to shortly after her arrival on New Venus. It was a swanky establishment and quite different from the seedy bars she frequented on space stations around the galaxy. In fact, it was almost too sanitized for her taste. She missed the excitement of rubbing elbows with the grimiest, most cutthroat smugglers and freighter pilots in all of space. She didn’t have to look over her shoulder to see if someone would try to plant a knife in her back or wonder if a chair would go sailing past her head as a fistfight broke out between inebriated patrons. Even under the influence, the Venusians were as respectful and orderly as clergy getting together for a drink after Mass. They conducted themselves with a venerability she would never have believed if she hadn’t seen it for herself. Zyra felt out of her element. She had a reputation to protect and wouldn’t want anyone to think she was growing soft. She was a dirt-and-leather girl after all. Thankfully, she had wised up before she got completely wasted and was on her way back to Mikaela’s apartment via the moving walkway that led past the concourse of shops in the entertainment district of Fortuna Tower, which was home to half a million people.

A rancid liquid caught in her throat, making her scowl. She swallowed only to feel her sickness grow. Zyra’s face twisted further as she pressed a hand to her churning stomach. The hot wetness stinging her nostrils threatened to choke her. The fit her stomach was throwing was an unnecessary reminder of why she didn’t drink much. The short-lived euphoria of temporarily forgetting her problems wasn’t worth the price she was going to pay for overindulging in strong liquor. Her vision was blurry and worsened with her increasing wooziness. Feeling the floor wobble under her legs (or it could have been her legs wobbling), she gripped the handrail on the concourse tarmac and squeezed her eyes shut to keep from passing out. She wondered if this was what morning sickness felt like for an expecting woman. She thought it a strange comparison until she heard the laughter of children nearby and opened her eyes. Alongside her, headed in the opposite direction on the moving walkway, was a trio of little girls no older than five or six years of age. They were giggling at the pair of women with them whom she assumed to be their mothers. The children shared the women’s distinctive features: their extraordinarily pretty looks marked by green eyes, rosy cheeks, freckles, and bowl-shaped hair cuts with red bangs almost covering their eyebrows.

For a moment, Zyra forgot her troubles, a smile tugging at her mouth at the children’s sweet laughter. Venusian women loved their children. Abusing or abandoning a child was a capital crime. Venusian society was built around the near deification of children. Not surprising, since their single-gender society’s survival depended solely on cultivating new generations of female children. Since there were no men on New Venus, women had to subject themselves to carefully managed reproductive programs. In a few rare cases, especially among the more religious segments of the population, women chose to be artificially inseminated to induce pregnancy. However, most Venusians elected for in vitro fertilization techniques using designer eggs cloned from the ones in their bodies. Afterwards, the embryo would be matured into a child at breeding labs referred to as “nurseries.” Being that most Venusians opted for the latter option, feeling it was the safer of the two, natural births were rare and, as a result, death from childbirth was virtually unknown on this world. This was certainly not the case on many worlds, even with the advances in medicine.

“You do want to have children one day, don’t you? Have you considered what could happen to them?”

Zyra’s chest hurt at Mikaela’s warning. The path she walked as a bounty hunter guaranteed her a life of loneliness. The joy of rearing a child was something she would never know. To bear children would be as reckless as it was cruel, knowing she would be granting them a death sentence along with their birth. Besides, after taking the lives of countless people, what right did she have to children of her own?

Her mood soured as the family disappeared down the walkway. She shifted her gaze to the sprawl of shops on either side of her and watched the passersby with growing envy. Couples held hands and kissed; parents pampered their children with gifts and frozen treats; groups of rowdy teenagers strolled by laughing as though they hadn’t a care in the world. Tears stung in Zyra’s eyes, washing away her lingering indifference. It was strange to feel so alone on a world where a woman never had to worry about being assaulted or having their dreams stolen from them by domineering males. She loved Mikaela dearly and often pondered what it would be like to spend the rest of her days with her on this peaceful planet.

But Zyra couldn’t see past the present. The future was uncertain. Today was all that mattered. With the prospect of receiving the bounty for Skringler no longer an option, she was at a loss about where to turn next. Queen Karah had cut her legs from under her by denying her custody of Skringler. She had traveled halfway across the galaxy determined to reap the rewards of bringing in the most notorious criminal alive. Now she would be forced to leave empty-handed.

There were still a few hours left before Mikaela’s shift at Synax Prison ended. Perhaps it would be best to sleep off the alcohol. Maybe her thoughts would clear up enough by then to figure out what to do next.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Flickering dots danced in Zyra’s irises like the glowing tips of candles as she stood on a balcony that overlooked Venus City. She observed the rock formations juxtaposed amongst the inverted steel spires where hover cars and transports buzzed around like mechanical fireflies. Deposits of a strange luminescent ore in the cavern walls gave off a glow similar to the aurora borealis of Old Earth fame. Tranquil reds mingled with brilliant topaz to create a spectacle no artist could rival. It was probably the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Yet the beauty of the city amidst glowing stalactites and stalagmites failed to make her forget her troubles. She was so transfixed by her thoughts she didn’t notice Mikaela saunter up beside her until she offered her a steaming mug of hot chocolate. Zyra received the mug without her usual excitement.

“What’s the matter?” Mikaela asked, the draft from the open air making her robe part at her legs, allowing Zyra to glimpse her red underwear. Her pale skin glowed under the balcony’s soft lights. The scent of jasmine wafting through the air made Zyra want to press her lips to Mikaela’s mouth, but thoughts of kissing Mikaela faded when she noticed the worry lines etched into the other woman’s brow.

“Your queen denied my request to extradite Skringler,” she said, almost oblivious to the sweet scent of her drink as it mixed with Mikaela’s perfume.

“I’m sorry.”

Mikaela’s hurt tone did little to give Zyra relief.

“So am I. I really need the money for his capture.”

“He’s just a drop in the ocean, Zyra. There are more like him out there.”

“I’m not in a position to go planet-hopping right now.”

“Why not? It’s what you do.”

Zyra ignored the inquisitive look Mikaela gave her and chewed her bottom lip.

“What aren’t you telling me? You’re in some kind of trouble, aren’t you?”

Zyra’s eyes shifted to keep Mikaela from seeing them.

“Skringler’s worth a whole lot to me. That’s all I’m saying.”

Mikaela circled Zyra so she could look directly at her.

“Is someone making you go after Skringler?”

“Of course not.”

“Then what’s going on? I know something’s wrong, so don’t bother to try to hide it.”

The muscles in Zyra’s upper body grew tight. Mikaela always knew when Zyra was lying. There was no point in trying to deceive her any longer. “It happened a few months back, just after Molly died. I was in pursuit of pirates when I learned that someone wiped out my credits.”

“They stole your credits?”

“That’s what I thought at first. But when I checked into it, I found they had altered my records to make it look as though I never had the credits to begin with.”

“Who would do something like that?”

“I don’t know, but I’m certain someone was sending me a message.”

“Payback?”

“It has to be.”

“That’s awful.”

“I never told anyone before now, but I had enough credits saved up to buy my own world. I was going to hire a team of bounty hunters so I wouldn’t have to work alone. Being a hunter is a thankless job. You risk your life for the good of others only to be reviled for it. The least I could do for myself is to hire some muscle. It wouldn’t hurt to have someone to watch my back.”

“You forget, Zyra. I know you. You’re not afraid of hunting alone. You’re lonely.”

Zyra paled. Was she so easy to read? “It can’t be easy living on a starship for weeks, even months at a time, without ever seeing another living person. You wanted a team so you wouldn’t have to be alone.”

Zyra nodded, flabbergasted once more by Mikaela’s uncanny ability to read her thoughts.

“I had to take the most horrible jobs to get those credits. You don’t know how many people I—” Zyra’s throat tightened. She swallowed hard, pushing back the guilt swelling within her. “I don’t know if I can ever do it again.”

“Why not? You’re the best hunter there is.”

“That’s just it. Bringing in Skringler was supposed to be my last job. I’m going to stop hunting.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

“You didn’t really think Queen Karah would give you permission to take Skringler?” Mikaela asked, dropping into the plush sofa beside Zyra with a surprised look on her face.

Zyra shrugged, annoyed by Mikaela’s growing belligerence. She pressed her fingers to her brow, feeling the onset of a migraine. “Why not? There’s nothing to gain by keeping him here,” she said, letting her golden locks fall past her face to keep Mikaela from seeing her frustration.

“You’re wrong. Skringler’s a political prisoner. He’s worth more to the queen as her prisoner than yours.”

Zyra was more anxious than upset by the turn of events, but Mikaela was tearing open a fresh wound by bombarding her with questions. It was times like this where she longed to be aboard her ship, alone and away from anyone who didn’t appreciate the old ‘silence is golden’ rule.

“He won’t be worth anything to anyone when he’s dead,” Zyra said.

“I thought you understood,” Mikaela replied. “Karah is going to make an example out of Skringler. She’s using him to send a message to the entire galaxy. New Venus is off-limits to men, plain and simple.”

“I don’t agree with your laws, but I do understand why you have them.”

“Do you?”

Zyra studied Mikaela’s hard expression. Something more than talking about Skringler was upsetting her. It wasn’t hard to figure out what it was. “At some point it has to end, Mika. The killing has to stop.” Zyra found her words ironic considering what she’d spent the last few years of her life doing.

“There are people on this world who think like you. Reformists. They think we’ve gone too far by banning all men from our world.”

“Maybe you have.”

“No, Zyra,” Mikaela said while shaking her head. “Even the little ones will eventually grow up to become monsters just like their fathers.”

Zyra didn’t like hearing Mikaela talk this way. She couldn’t believe that someone who had shown her so much love could be filled with such hatred.

“It’s foolish to think we can make peace with the enemy,” Mikaela continued. “We can’t turn back the clock. There’s been too much bloodshed for either side to ever want to make peace.”

Zyra spoke softly, hoping to get Mikaela to listen to reason. “I know your people have suffered, but this isn’t the way. War isn’t the way.”

“We raise our children to be strong so no man can ever take away their freedom. War is all we know.” Mikaela frowned, her somber demeanor making her voice grow hollow. “It’s all we’ll ever know as long as men are out there trying to take back control of our world. Control of us.”

“I wish it wasn’t like this.”

“Well, it is.” Mikaela assumed a stoic expression to match her bleak tone. “I suggest you find another way to get the money you need. Make no mistake. Karah’s already decided how this is going to end. Skringler will die for coming to New Venus. Nothing you do can change that.”

Zyra brushed a set of fingers through her hair in frustration. “I still think he should be tried by his own people, especially since they’re the ones who suffered because of him. Killing him for simply trespassing on your world isn’t right.”

“This isn’t about right or wrong, Zyra. It’s about keeping New Venus safe.”

Zyra rolled her eyes in defeat. Mikaela wasn’t going to lay off of her until she had the final word. She dug her nails into her thighs before making fists.

“I don’t know why I’m wasting my time explaining anything to you. You’re a Venusian. You’ll never understand.”

Mikaela rested her hand on Zyra’s thigh trying to calm her. “I understand that I want my people to be safe. Skringler’s presence on our world endangers us. A lot of Venusians gave their lives, and continue to give their lives, so we can live in peace.”

Zyra swallowed, a tightness growing in her chest at the quiver she heard in the other woman’s voice. Mikaela breathed a sigh and hid her eyes behind a veil of long lashes. Tresses of darkest brown framed her heart-shaped face, allowing her to hide from Zyra when she shifted her head sideways. Her flawless skin appeared even more perfect under the gentle glow of the hover lamp floating beside the sofa. Despite her youthful looks, Mikaela was several years Zyra’s senior and had seen far more death than she could ever imagine. Mikaela never liked to talk about her past, but she was only a child when she had been liberated from one of the secret labs where forbidden experiments had been performed on her (Zyra always wondered if Mikaela’s uncanny ability to read her thoughts were a result of those experiments. Most Venusians showed signs of precognition, but it was stronger in Mikaela than in others). It didn’t surprise Zyra that Mikaela was unable to see beyond the pain and regrets of her past. She could only imagine how the past had shaped the present for Mikaela.

“How do you know peace isn’t an illusion? Every day, your people die enforcing a senseless law. How many people have been killed to keep men out of your space? How many ships destroyed? How many, Mika?”

“We’ve had our share of skirmishes with the exiled males who want to repatriate this world, but things are much better for us since Karah became queen.”

Mikaela’s voice shook again, making Zyra feel a slight chill. She dug her toes into the carpet, trying to steal the warmth from it.

“Is it better?”

“I don’t think you need me to explain how things work here. This world was nearly destroyed because of the Verisite War—a war, I remind you, started and waged by men. While we raised our young, men spent their days claiming the spoils of war in blood and flesh. Women were treated like cattle—things to be beaten, violated, and discarded at will. This was ground zero for the Slavers. We had no say in our government and didn’t even have control over our bodies.

“I was only a girl, but I remember how it used to be. First, they made laws that said we couldn’t vote. Then they took away our reproductive rights. They experimented on us and made us sterile.”

Zyra caught the shimmer in Mikaela’s eyes as she looked away from her. Had Mikaela lost the ability to bear children? She had never mentioned any of this to Zyra before. She took Mikaela’s hand and squeezed it, trying to impart strength to her.

“My sisters were taken away from my mother when they were hardly more than girls and forced to live in brothels. What kind of life is that for a woman, let alone a child?”

Mikaela withdrew her voice, tears streaking down her face. It was tearing Zyra up inside to see Mikaela in such grief. She shut her eyes and wove her fingers through Mikaela’s.

“We gave birth, reared children, and loved our men. Yet we weren’t even shown the decency of having the same rights as the male citizens of our world. Well, those bastards paid for what they did. The seas boiled with their blood during the Purge. Every one of those selfish pigs that took away our rights, including the bastards who killed my mother and raped my sisters, paid for their crimes with their lives. We won’t ever let the past repeat itself. Making this world off-limits to men is the price we have to pay for peace.”

Zyra opened her eyes to see the tears start to dry on Mikaela’s face. She was flushed as dark as her painted nails. “This isn’t Old Earth, Zyra. The old ways don’t apply to us. We have every means of reproducing on our own and defending our world. There’s no place for men in our society. Heck, if a woman wants to find herself some male companionship she can do so off-world. It’s as simple as that.”

“I’m not condemning your way of life.”

“Yes, you are!”

Zyra winced at the edge in Mikaela’s voice. In an instant, she had gone from a heartbroken woman to a raging warrior.

A Venusian through and through.

“You live with those filthy animals, but our days of breeding with them are over. Any man who comes to New Venus is going to have himself a very bad day.”

Zyra knew she couldn’t pacify Mikaela, but she wasn’t going to accept that things were written in stone.

“It isn’t right, killing a man just because of what he is.”

The cool air of the apartment hung frostily on Zyra’s flesh, making her shiver. But it was nothing compared to the coldness in Mikaela’s voice.

“It’s not your decision to make.”

CHAPTER NINE

Zyra pushed through the gloom and ambled over to the familiar iron bars that checked her advance into Skringler’s cell. If he knew she was standing only a few feet away from him, he gave no sign. He simply lay back on his cot, as if without a care in the world, hands folded behind his head. The air was musty and harder to breathe than she remembered it. It tickled her throat and parched her mouth.

She raised a hand to slide her fingers along one of the bars and felt the rough bumps on its cool surface, realizing how indifferent they were to whomever they held prisoner. The bars were as impervious to suffering as the damp walls of the cell. She fixed her eyes back on Skringler and opened her mouth, preparing to make some cold greeting. The words were still half-formed on her lips when she realized they weren’t necessary.

“You again, eh?” Skringler said. “Can’t stay away from me, can you?

Normally, Zyra would have made a quip to keep Skringler on edge. She was too exhausted to bother.

“I thought you should know. The queen denied my request. I won’t be taking you back home.”

She thought Skringler would have tossed a clever insult her way just to stoke the blistering coals in her heart. But he, too, seemed not in the mood for any horseplay.

“Queen says I have to die, huh?”

“I’ve tried everything, but she won’t give in.”

Skringler’s mouth curled. Zyra couldn’t tell if he was upset or amused by her report.

“Queen’s a sore loser, y’ know. Just can’t stand the fact I was hidin’ right under her nose. Shoulda bought myself a Halotech. Those Treeban changeling suits are no good.”

Skringler was surprisingly calm for a man who had in essence been given a second death sentence. Pulling the rug from under him this way should have had him up in arms. Needless to say, it wasn’t the reaction she had expected.

“I’ll be leaving New Venus tomorrow. So, I guess this is it.”

Skringler’s eyes popped open. He twisted his head to give Zyra his most pitiful look. Her long eyelashes brushed her cheeks as she lowered her stare from him.

“You’re not really gonna leave me here, are you?”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“How can you walk away like this? Leave me to die?”

“I told you, there’s nothing I can do.”

“Hell there ain’t.”

Zyra didn’t like feeling helpless, but Skringler’s demanding tone only increased her frustration. “What more do you want from me?”

Skringler rolled off the cot and sprang to his feet in one motion. Zyra tensed and resisted the urge to back away from the bars. Skringler stood a full head over her and peered into her face.

“Maybe I want you.”

“I’m not on the menu.”

“You should be.”

Heat radiated from Skringler’s gaze, almost burning her vision. She blinked, knowing her defenses were weakening, and examined his ruggedly handsome looks. The mop of dark hair spilling from his head accented his equally dark eyes. Zyra ran her eyes along the narrow bridge of Skringler’s nose all the way down to his perfectly shaped mouth. She used to swoon at the mere sight of him. Now she couldn’t give words to what she felt in his presence.

“I know we don’t see eye-to-eye, but you can’t act like leavin’ me here to die’s not botherin’ you.”

“Don’t try to make me feel guilty. I’m not the one who broke the law.”

“Don’t tell me you agree with these Fluffies. Thought you had a sense of fair play.”

“I did what I could for you. You’ll just have to face whatever comes your way.”

A moment’s silence crept between them as Skringler clutched the cell bars with his broad fingers.

“You are ice.”

“What?”

“You never used to be this cold. What the hell happened to you?”

“What do you care?”

The edge in Zyra’s voice was so sharp that it nearly cut the air. She was growing weary of Skringler’s attempts to bring up the past.

“Do you hate me that much?”

Zyra dipped her head forward, unable to quell the unrest she felt.

“I don’t hate you. I just—”

“Say it.”

“I just wish things were different.”

“For you or me?”

Zyra didn’t reply. She had said enough already.

“You don’t have to answer. I can see it in your face.” The rigid lines in Skringler’s face eased as his voice lost its leathery tone and became almost musical. “Wasn’t so long ago. I used to mean something to you.”

Zyra detected more than disappointment in his voice. There was also regret. “Not anymore.”

“So you say. But I see it in your eyes, that little spark. It’s faded some, but it’s got life yet.”

“You’re seeing things,” Zyra said, struggling to keep from lowering her eyes again. It was getting harder to look at Skringler. His gaze stripped away her hardness and left behind gnawing doubt.

“Am I?”

“We can’t relive the past. We’re different people now.”

“No, I’m the same man I always was. You, on the other hand—”

The shifting tone in Skringler’s voice caused Zyra’s breath to hitch. She was tempted to look at him, but feared she would lose herself to the accusation in his eyes. She shuddered, knowing her armor was shedding like the dead skin of a serpent, exposing more of herself to him. She exhaled rather than spoke her next words.

“What about me?”

“You grew a conscience.”

Zyra’s lips trembled as words caught in her throat. She raised her hands drone-like, unaware of her movements, and squeezed the bars that kept Skringler away from her. A small section of rusty bars separated their fingers, but the heat from his hands reached her. She inhaled deeply then pushed the air through her lips, finally giving voice to her thoughts.

“I had to go my own way. I couldn’t become what you wanted me to be.”

“All I wanted was for you to stay.”

Zyra’s gaze drifted upwards to meet Skringler’s dusky eyes. They had grown darker since she had first entered the cell.

“At what cost? Look at what’s happened to you since I left. I never wanted that for myself.”

“You could’ve fooled me.”

A frown tugged at her mouth. Nameless faces, long dead, but unforgotten, pushed their way into her mind. Together, she and Skringler had blazed a trail of death throughout the galaxy, behaving like reckless teenagers hell-bent on turning the universe on its head and making a parody of death itself.

“I’m not proud of the things I did with you, but I came to my senses. Leaving you was the right thing to do.”

“Well, things turned out just fine for you, didn’t they?”

Zyra winced, sensing anger in Skringler’s husky voice as one of the lights in the ceiling flickered out. She was barely able to make out the circles of his eyes in the intensified darkness.

“You think I don’t know why you’re here? Before I was nabbed, I heard some heavy hitters back on our side of space had it out for you. Said you owed them money and didn’t pay up.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, you know, all right.”

“I came for you because you’re worth a lot of money.”

“No, you came because there’s a price on your head and if you don’t pay back the money you owe, they’re gonna cut you up into little pieces and feed you to gutterfish.”

Skringler’s words sucked the air from Zyra’s lungs. Until now, she hadn’t thought anyone was aware of her involvement with the mob.

“Maybe there is a price on my head. Why do you care?”

“I care because paying off your debt gets me out of here. Face it. Your luck’s run out and you need me.”

Zyra didn’t speak until she let out the breath she was holding.

“I told you Queen Karah won’t let you go.”

“So?”

“So what?”

“I know you, Zanr. You’re not gonna let somethin’ like a few bars of iron stop you from collectin’ that reward for me. Anyway, you owe me.”

Zyra saw the intent behind his eyes and shuddered. “Do you know what you’re asking me to do?”

“Yeah. Save the life of the man you used to love.”

Skringler was out of his mind. Not in a million years would she ever contemplate what he was suggesting.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve got my own problems.”

Zyra turned around, shielding her face from Skringler. She stood motionless with a ponderous gaze, appearing as if she was going to say something. Then, fearing to disturb the dreadful silence, she marched out of the cell.

CHAPTER TEN

Zyra paced back and forth, her toes sinking into the soft carpet under her feet. Her mind was racing, trying to make sense of her muddled thoughts. In only a few days, Queen Karah would have Skringler executed. All hopes of collecting the bounty for his extradition to Alliance authorities would be lost. She needed that bounty almost as much as she needed to draw breath. Almost as disturbing was that Skringler’s execution didn’t sit right with her. Skringler was a murderer. By all counts, she shouldn’t even care what happened to him. But she couldn’t rid herself of the feeling that she should be doing something about the situation.

Then it hit her.

Was she upset because missing her grand payday would force her to give up any hope at having a normal life? Or was it because she still had feelings for Skringler? It wasn’t very long ago that they were hopping from planet-to-planet like a pair of young outlaws, nabbing fugitives from justice. She didn’t consider herself much more than a girl at the time, wet behind the ears, and naive to the ways of the universe. Skringler had taught her the way things really worked. His was the hand that had guided her through a universe full of despots and felons, but her girlish feelings had gotten the best of her and she had fallen head over heels for him. It wasn’t until later that she had realized what kind of person Skringler was. His bad boy act wasn’t an act. He was as ruthless as any criminal in the galaxy. He took the law into his own hands and made a mockery of even her liberal sense of justice. She had picked up many of his worse traits under his tutelage, but there was a line she wouldn’t cross. Skringler had no such reservations. Hence the reason he was public enemy number one and why she shouldn’t be having mixed feelings over his execution. Skringler had brought doom upon himself. He had earned his death through a lifetime of wickedness. But when his execution was carried out, she knew she would share in his punishment. For with his death came her own.

Her heart ached at the thought of having to leave Mikaela and give up the comfort of a normal existence, but she knew it was only a matter of time before her enemies found her. She would suffer for not paying off the debt she owed. Unfortunately, Mikaela would suffer with her. She wanted nothing more than to spend her life with Mikaela, but she could never risk living with Mikaela while she had a price on her head. For judgment day would come no matter how long she was able to delay it. She dreaded to think what would happen if she didn’t turn Skringler over to the Alliance. Only his bounty could satisfy her debt to the galactic mobsters who had her in their sights. Tears stung her eyes, turning them red. Even if the mobsters forgave her, she couldn’t go on being a bounty hunter. Nothing but death waited for her out there in the blackness of space: her own and others’.

“It’s the killing that’s making you sick.”

Mikaela was right. Zyra had lost her way attempting to right a wrong that would never be righted. Her father’s murder, however painful, was a small thing compared to the loss of her soul. She fought back the gag that tried to come as she thought of the staggering number of people she had killed while in the act of hunting. She had done what she had to do to survive the dangerous encounters, but she had paid a heavy price for it. It wasn’t normal to live the way she did. Only stone-cold killers could take the lives of as many people as she did and live with themselves. She feared she was already beyond hope, numb to the act of killing just like Skringler. She didn’t care if she had killed because she had to. She just wanted the bloodshed to end.

Zyra ran a hand through her hair and plunked herself down on the nearby sofa. She then dropped her face into her hands and sighed. She could change things if she wanted to. She could give her situation a different outcome. She wasn’t a citizen of New Venus and didn’t have their warped view of right and wrong. She could take Skringler away from them. She didn’t have to accept the queen’s judgment. Skringler would probably face death if given over to the Alliance, but at least he would be tried for the real crimes he committed and not some trumped up charge. Zyra gritted her teeth and swore. Even before she had come to this world, she had known there would be trouble.

Sometimes I hate being right.

***

Zyra was sitting quietly at the edge of the bed, nibbling her bottom lip when Mikaela threw her arms around her from behind and pulled her close.

“What’s wrong with you, tonight? It’s like you’re halfway across the galaxy.”

Zyra glanced over her shoulder to meet the other woman’s stare. “I’m sorry, Mika. I’m distracted.”

Mikaela pouted her lips. “Are you still worrying about Skringler? If you are, I say let it go.”

“It isn’t that simple,” Zyra said while shaking her head.

Mikaela didn’t let her off the hook that easily. “Why not?”

“It just isn’t.”

“Why is Skringler so important to you? Don’t tell me it’s because you need the money.”

Zyra turned and swung her legs onto the bed. She looked at Mikaela, but her gaze wavered. “Skringler and I have a past.”

“I guessed that part already.”

Zyra searched Mikaela’s face. She didn’t appear upset, but it was disconcerting how easily Mikaela saw through her.

“Things went bad for me at the Academy,” Zyra started to explain. “I wasn’t a good fit for the program. The Alliance needs soldiers who can follow orders. That wasn’t me.” Zyra flinched her fingers while she tried to gather her thoughts. “I met Skringler some time later. I didn’t have a place to stay, so he took me in and taught me how to become a hunter.” As if an afterthought, she tacked on, “Plus he had an edge. I liked that about him.”

Mikaela looked queasy. “So you fell in love?”

Zyra could see the tension in Mikaela’s shoulders. In spite of her curiosity, she obviously didn’t like hearing any of this. “It didn’t happen the way you think. We were several years apart. I know I shouldn’t have gotten involved with someone like him, but I was young...”

“And naive?”

“I knew what I was doing.”

Zyra’s defensive tone failed to placate Mikaela.

“You couldn’t have been much younger than you are now. Skringler took advantage of you.”

“He made me feel like I belonged.”

“It doesn’t make what he did to you okay.”

Mikaela was right. Skringler had used her to get what he wanted from her: her mind and her body. But it wasn’t a one-sided relationship. She had taken every bit as much from Skringler as she had given. Maybe more. She was still paying the price for that now.

Zyra breathed a sigh as if trying to expel years of pent up grief. “There was a lot of nasty stuff going on in my life back then. Skringler kept me safe. No one would mess with me when he was around.”

“I don’t get it. How can you love someone like that? A killer?”

Zyra lowered her voice to a whisper. “I wasn’t that different from him.”

The air chilled. Zyra looked at Mikaela and waited for a response that didn’t come. Mikaela’s loss of voice spoke volumes about what was going on in her head. Zyra sucked in air until her lungs hurt. She didn’t want to scare Mikaela with stories of her past and realized she had already said too much.

“Skringler’s bad news, Zyra. You should never have gotten mixed up with him.”

“I know.” It seemed like ages since her life with Skringler. She was, indeed, very different back then.

Hard. Cold. Dangerous.

Yet, she was blind to the danger of being the protégé of a monster-in-the-making. She hated to think what she would have become had she stayed with him.

Zyra felt a dull ache in her chest. She didn’t want to say anymore. The past was the past and it was best forgotten. Giving Mikaela the intimate details of her relationship with Skringler wasn’t going to make her feel any better.

“I don’t know what hold this guy has over you, but you really need to forget about him.”

“I’m trying, Mika.”

“Oh, Zyra.” Mikaela placed a hand on each of Zyra’s shoulders and pulled Zyra down to the bed so that they could lie next to each other. “I want to spend as much time with you as possible before you leave.”

Zyra pushed her eyebrows together and avoided Mikaela’s gaze. “I’m not leaving.”

“Yes, you are. You don’t have to lie to me.”

Zyra’s breath hitched as a frown appeared on her face.

Mikaela continued her interrogation. “That’s what’s eating you, isn’t it? You’re getting ready to run off again. Aren’t you tired of running, Zyra?”

Zyra released the breath she was holding, but the tension in her chest remained. “Seems I can’t hide anything from you, can I?”

“No,” Mikaela said, shaking her head. “You can’t.”

Zyra gave up all attempts to hide her thoughts from Mikaela. “I want to stay here with you, but...”

“But what?”

Zyra finally returned Mikaela’s stare. “You know why I can’t stay. The people I’m running from are going to find me here. I don’t want you to get hurt when they show up.”

Mikaela assumed a harsh look. “I’m a tough customer, Zyra. If anyone tries anything, I’ll make mincemeat out of them.”

“I know, but...”

Mikaela brushed a wayward strand of hair from Zyra’s face. “Stop worrying. You’re with me now. There’s no safer place for you to be than here on New Venus.”

Zyra forced a smile. “You’re right, Mika. I am worrying for nothing.”

“See. Now that’s better. It makes me unhappy to see you sad.”

“I want you to be happy, Mika.”

“Then smile.”

The tension in Zyra’s face eased as she allowed herself a smile.

Mikaela’s frown morphed into a sudden grin. “You know what’ll really make me happy?”

Zyra arched a brow. “What?”

“You opening that gift I bought you.”

“What gift?” Zyra asked, looking confused.

Mikaela sat up from the bed and laughed. “This gift.”

Zyra sat up beside Mikaela and watched her pick up a small box from the night table. She shook the box and laughed again.

“Guess what’s in here?”

Zyra reached out to receive the box from Mikaela and looked at it. “If this is what I think it is...”

Mikaela was beaming now. “Open it and find out.”

Zyra pulled the ribbon from the box and removed the lid. She pressed a set of fingers to her lips and blushed. “You didn’t.”

“I most certainly did.”

“Mika...”

“I’ve been wanting to try one of those for a while. Now that we’re together, I think we can give it a go, don’t you think?” Mikaela hooked an arm around Zyra’s neck and leaned into her before planting a kiss on her mouth. “You’re going to thank me later when we’re done.”

Zyra took in Mikaela’s rosy scent while gently returning her kisses. On the surface, she was a sensual being craving what Mikaela had to offer. But beneath, something else stirred—something sly and devious. Zyra wore her mask and played her role. She hated leading Mikaela on like this, but she couldn’t let her know the truth of what she was planning. Mikaela had guessed right. Zyra was planning to leave. She just didn’t have the heart to tell her why she was leaving.

Maybe it was better this way, Zyra thought. She had been keeping secrets her entire life. What was one more secret? Mikaela would find out the truth soon enough.

“Mmm. You taste divine,” Mikaela said, while kissing Zyra softly on the throat.

She remained quiet as Mikaela’s hands started to explore her body. She felt hot, waves of pleasure building within her. They’d have themselves a bit of fun with her new electronic toy before she went tumbling off back into the chaos of her life.

***

Zyra waited until Mikaela was sleeping soundly beside her before she lifted her arm from her. She tossed the sheets aside and got up from bed. She crept across the room on the tips of her toes and removed the computer cube from Mikaela’s dresser. She kept her eyes on Mikaela as she slunk into the bathroom and listened to the door shut behind her.

Zyra placed the cube on the bathroom sink and chewed her bottom lip as she flicked her finger over the soft glow on its side to activate it. She placed another cube beside it, her own, and synced her cube with her ship’s main computer. With a few swift flicks of her finger, she had linked Mikaela’s computer cube with her own and used the Helship-II’s programs to hack into secured channels on the global network. It didn’t take Zyra much longer to access the information in Mikaela’s security folder.

A three-dimensional map of the layout of the prison where Skringler was being held appeared in the air. She downloaded it to her ship’s computer, then accessed the final bit of information she needed.

Synax Prison Security Chief Mikaela Darr

Security Clearance password: 786e78339900001a

Guilt tore at her stomach as her mouth twisted into a frown. Would Mikaela ever forgive her for what she was doing? Zyra pushed aside her feelings and lowered her eyebrows. She wasn’t being wicked or sly. She was doing this because she had no choice. Skringler would stand trial before an Alliance tribunal for his crimes. He wouldn’t die on New Venus to appease the vanity of a people who had lost their way. More importantly, she would get the money for his capture that she needed to square things away with the mob. She hoped Mikaela would find it in her heart to forgive her and understand why she had chosen to free Skringler.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The unsightly buildup of sediment and mold on the decrepit walls was only half as repugnant as the putrid odor of the dark sludge sloshing about Zyra’s feet. Her feet were unsteady beneath her and threatened to leave her on her haunches. She dreaded the thought. A quick glance at the mucky water made her want to heave. She didn’t even want to know what was floating in the sludge. The reek only made her eyes tear.

She had spent the past hour traversing the old sewers that ran beneath the prison where Skringler was being held. Not more than a hundred years ago, these sewers were teeming with service crews whose job it was to maintain the aging infrastructure of pipes and water flow ducts. Fortunately for her, no one came down here anymore. A more complex and sophisticated network of sewers had replaced the old. It was just her luck that the old sewers still provided access to the prison. Once she had in possession the instructions to navigate the dark labyrinth of connecting tunnels, pipes, and overflows, she had the means to free Skringler.

She hooked a finger in the straps of the pack she bore over her shoulders and tugged it, shifting its weight to relieve the pressure on her numb arm. She gained a moment’s relief before the unruly pack slid back in place and pinched her arm again. She muttered a curse under her breath and plowed ahead. She grew steadily more agitated, knowing that she was playing with fire. It was one thing to break the law. It was another to do so while prostrating oneself as an advocate for justice. Until tonight, she had spent the entire week arguing on behalf of Boris Skringler’s right to be tried in a court of his peers. Now she was proving her contempt for the law with each step she took down the sewers.

A fitting setting, she thought, realizing the depths to which her actions had taken her. She felt like a drifter on a boat, blindly floating away on unpredictable currents. Yet it was not an accurate description of things; she was no drifter, but rather a captain guiding her ship through a sea of icebergs to an uncertain destination. Perhaps that’s what bothered her the most. Not the fear of getting caught or even the potential loss of reward if the Alliance refused to pay her, but not knowing how this would end even if she did get off New Venus safely with her prisoner. It was entirely reckless to attempt to break Skringler out of prison, but Zyra wasn’t going to accept leaving this world without the prospect of having her coffers filled. Her eyes lit up at the rusty ladder ahead that led from the sewers and into the bowels of the prison.

***

Zyra’s hands shook on the metal grate that barred her entrance to Synax Prison’s sewage management room. Her fingers smarted from her failed attempts to get the grate to budge. The red glare from service lights showering her form increased her discomfort. She could only imagine how much worse her mood would have been had she not brought along a few tools for this very situation. She dropped the pack from her shoulders, unzipped it, and stuck her hand inside to retrieve a crowbar from it. With the proper leverage and enough muscle power, she was certain she could pop the gate free from its rusted moorings.

She hooked the forked end of the crowbar into the dark crack between the grate and the metal frame that it had been welded to. Next she shifted her hips and arched her back to give herself the necessary range to complete the task. Finally, she propped her foot against the wall behind her for support and dropped back. She groaned as she pulled at the bar, her arms shaking as she used all her weight to pry the grate loose. She flushed a dark red as beads of sweat formed like crystals on her face.

Zyra relaxed her grip and swore under her breath, taking a few deep breaths as she mustered the strength to make another attempt to jar the grate loose. She inhaled deeper and let the breath calm her. Her skin cooled from the sweat running like melted ice down her face. She breathed out slowly, feeling strength in her arms. She gripped the crowbar tightly again and pushed up on her toes, lifting her rounded bottom into the air. With a single jerking motion, she tugged at the crowbar. She moved back and forth in a rocking motion, hands locked in a vise around it. She squeezed the bar harder, groaning louder as the grate resisted her.

In spite of its resistance, Zyra was determined to knock the grate free. She spread her fingers apart and brought her hands closer together and kept up her fight. Her muscles protested and sent jolts up her arms into the nooks of her shoulders. At first, she feared she would tear a muscle before the grate came loose. But with one loud scraping noise, the grate popped free. Relieved, Zyra allowed herself a couple of recuperative breaths before stooping to place the bar on the floor. Then she stood back up to hook her fingers through the square openings in the grate. Loose rock and soot fell at her feet when she removed it.

Her nose wrinkled, finding the stuffy air in the room just as repulsive as it had been in the sewers. The nonfunctioning septic tanks lined up around the room explained why. She grunted as she pulled herself up through the hole and onto scored metal flooring. She had to suppress a grin. She was one step closer to her destination. It wouldn’t be long now before she undertook the most dangerous part of her mission. But first, she had to put on some fresh clothes and rid herself of the sewer’s stink.

***

When Zyra rounded the turn that led into the hallway where Skringler’s cell awaited, she saw the guard she had met the day before standing watch. The guard had the same dreary look on her face she’d had the last time they met. She obviously didn’t care much for her occupation. Zyra was trying to think up a diversion to gain access to Skringler when the guard came to attention.

“Who’s there?”

Zyra froze. She was sure the guard hadn’t seen her. But she had to admit she couldn’t help but be impressed by the guard’s alertness. Zyra sidled against the wall and brought her face to the edge to sneak a look at the other woman. The guard appeared to be getting nervous and called out again, this time drawing her weapon and holding it in a double-fisted grip in Zyra’s direction. The last thing Zyra wanted was to get into a firefight. That wouldn’t help her get Skringler out of prison. If anything, it would get her killed faster than she could say her name. She didn’t move, but kept her back flat against the wall and watched the guard start to approach. Zyra had to think fast. She could not allow herself to be a sitting duck, but she also didn’t want to kill the guard for doing her job. After all, Skringler was hardly worth killing for. Not knowing what else to do, Zyra spun into the guard’s view with one hand pressed to her hip and the other in her hair.

“Don’t move or I’ll shoot!”

Zyra pretended she hadn’t heard a word the guard said and with a toss of her golden hair over her shoulder advanced down the hall.

“Didn’t you hear me? I said I’ll shoot you if you don’t stop where you are,” the guard said, her gun pointing to the center of Zyra’s chest. Zyra allowed herself a seductive grin and maintained a measured stride while exaggerating the wide swing of her hips.

“You’re that bounty hunter. What are you doing here?”

“You know why I’m here,” Zyra said, a soft purr in her voice as she dragged her tongue across her upper lip. The wetness of them made the guard’s aim falter. “I came to finish what we started.”

She slowed her trot when she drew near to the guard. Her smile was brighter than two suns against a field of black in the gloom of the prison hallway. The gun shook in the guard’s hand.

“What we started?”

Zyra came to a halt and batted her eyelashes at the guard.

“I’ve been thinking about you ever since we met. I had to see you again.”

“You must think I’m one of those cock-packing fools like your friend in the cell.”

“I thought you would be happy to see me.”

The guard arched an eyebrow. “You are serious, aren’t you?”

“I’ve wanted you more than I want anyone else.”

“Prove it.”

One last step closed the distance between Zyra and the guard. She pressed her lips to the guard’s mouth and kissed her long and hard. The guard kissed her back and returned her gun to her holster. Zyra wrapped her arms around the guard, pulling her closer so the guard could enjoy the heat from her large, firm breasts. She felt the guard’s hands mold themselves to her backside, then slide down further. She moaned and felt the guard’s tongue push past her teeth.

With careful movements, Zyra found her pocket where a small black device rested. Just as smoothly, she withdrew the device and brought it up to the back of the guard’s neck. There was a hiss like the crackling of fire before the woman slumped into her arms. Zyra held her up, then lowered her limp frame to the floor. She dragged the guard backwards by the arms for the length of the hallway before laying her down on the floor near the controls for Skringler’s cell door. Zyra picked the insensate guard’s pockets and located the keycard that opened Skringler’s cell. She stood straight, slid the card through the keycard slot, and heard a blip. Zyra took a final glance behind her to make sure she wasn’t being watched. She bent over and tugged at the guard’s arms again to drag her into the dark cell.

***

The cell door had barely shut when Skringler hopped up from his creaking cot. Zyra released the guard’s wrists and gazed across the cell to meet the pair of amused brown eyes watching her.

“I knew you’d be back.”

The smug look on Skringler’s face made Zyra want to hurl something at him. He was far too cocky. Even for a creep.

“Don’t get excited,” she said, cutting her eyes at him, as she snapped the unconscious guard’s handcuffs around the woman’s wrists. “It’s not like you’re going on vacation.”

Skringler bellowed out with laughter and went from a half-dazed stupor to fully alert in the blink of an eye. “I’m happy to go anywhere you go, long as it gets me off this rock.”

Zyra stood up to her full height and marched over to Skringler. “Then you’ll be happy to know you’re headed for a penal colony with accommodations that make this place look like a Sultan’s palace.”

“Well, it’s the thought that counts.”

“Maybe you didn’t get the memo. I’m doing this for me, not you.”

Skringler had the glossy look in his eyes that always unnerved her. “Don’t matter. Get me away from these Fluffies and I’ll love you just the same.”

Zyra ignored him and entered the password to unlock the bars.  “I’m going to open the bars. If you even think about trying something, there’ll be nothing left of you but a stain on the ground. I promise you, it won’t be a very big one.”

Skringler raised a hand and scratched at the stubbles on his jaw. “Get me outta here and we’ll play who’s the better killer later.”

Zyra’s eyes shot up from the controls to give him a warning look. “Just remember. I’m the one with the gun.”

She lowered her gaze again and fixed her eyes on the control panel. She ran the keycard she had confiscated from the guard through the access port and watched the bars begin to slide apart. Skringler crossed the space between them and reached for her. Her hands went up in protest. She didn’t want to think about where his hands had been.

“Just trying to thank you,” he said.

“I’ll be thankful if I get out of here alive,” she said with a sneer. “Now get your clothes on so we can leave before someone figures out what’s going on.”

Skringler’s grin emerged wider than before as he turned to grab what he needed from under his cot.

***

The lonely hallway outside Skringler’s cell seemed to go on forever, reminding Zyra of the way the world looked through the eye of a collapsing telescope. The scored surface of the metal walls was marred by the gloom that filled the air. Even the lights on the ceiling failed to penetrate it. It all appeared so bleak. Zyra wondered if it was just her nerves getting to her or if somehow her surroundings had changed while she had gone to get Skringler. One glance into the grizzled face of the man hovering behind her and she knew it wasn’t her surroundings that had grown darker, but her mood.

“Let’s go,” she said, pressing forward. Skringler matched her stride, his tall frame casting a shadow over her. She heard him grumbling under his breath as he scowled at the handcuffs she’d shackled him with. Skringler was quite irritable when he didn’t get his way. But bad mood or not, she wasn’t taking them off. There was no telling what he’d do if given free reign. When they got to the end of the hallway, she looked on both sides of the adjoining hallway to make sure the path was clear. Seeing no one, she rounded the corner and increased her pace. She stopped abruptly and cursed.

“What’s wrong?” Skringler asked, easing up beside Zyra to follow her line of vision. She felt a knot in her stomach standing so close to him.

“Looks like someone decided to have a powwow.”

Her frown deepened as she observed the guards who huddled around each other down the next hallway.

“Don’t see how that’s a problem.”

“This is the way I came in.”

“So?”

“So they’ll see us if we try to pass.”

Zyra had responded more harshly than she intended, but she doubted Skringler even noticed.

“I don’t think you’re carrying that Hemser pistol for nothin’,” he said. She glanced at him just long enough to for him to see the anger in her eyes. Her disgust of the man made her stomach twist.

“I’m not killing anyone if I can help it.”

“Looks like you forgot one of my lessons. When someone’s standin’ between you and your target, you gut the bastard.”

“That may be how you do things, but I’m not you.”

Zyra expected some snide remark, but Skringler avoided taking one of his usual cheap shots.

“So how you figure we get past ’em?”

“We don’t,” she said, shrinking back from the bend in the hallway. “There’s another access gate to the sewers on the other side of the prison, but it’s about two hundred meters away. We can make it, but there’s a chance we’ll run into a few guards along the way.”

“You wanna take that chance?”

“Don’t have much choice. I came here to break you out, not to start a bloodbath.”

“What’re we waitin’ for, then? I’m dyin’ to see these lovely sewers of yours.”

***

Nervous with anticipation, Zyra led Skringler through the prison. On arriving at the prison, she had hacked into the network to deactivate the surveillance cameras and replace the monitors with static images. It was a temporary fix. An attentive guard would notice the frozen chronometer reading and know something was up. More importantly, deactivating the surveillance cameras wouldn’t prevent her from encountering patrolling guards while attempting to reach the sewers. She worried the whole way that armed guards would flood the hallways without warning, ready to gun them down. But surprisingly, there were no hiccups. For the first time since she had entered the prison, she actually felt she might get through this without any problems.

And then it happened.

She was only a hundred meters away from her destination when a guard came circling into view. The guard slipped her pistol out of her holster and raised it. The muzzle flashed just as Zyra kicked the weapon out of the guard’s hand. Before the guard could react, she snapped off four quick fists to the guard’s midsection, driving her backwards. A stream of blood gushed out of the woman’s mouth when Zyra caught her in the face with a jaw-breaking right.

The guard, showing her toughness, shrugged off the attack and threw a wide hook at Zyra. She slipped past the attack, caught the guard’s arm in a vice, and swung her face first into the wall. The air went whooshing out of the guard’s lungs before Zyra smashed her cheek with a hard left. The guard continued to prove her mettle and hurled a reckless elbow at Zyra’s face. She couldn’t help but admire the tenacity of the guard. Venusian women never lay down in a fight. Unfortunately, all the woman was doing was delaying the inevitable. Zyra caught the guard’s arm in mid-air, twisted it, then scissor-clipped her legs to the floor. She rolled sideways and dropped a vicious elbow into the guard’s face, leaving her lying flat and senseless. Zyra stood up to see blood oozing out of the guard’s smashed mouth.

“We need to get out of here now,” she said, giving Skringler a passing glance. She took wide steps down the hall with Skringler trailing her shadow. She broke her stride when she heard the loud wail of a siren blaring through the intercom. Zyra snapped her head around to see the dazed guard she had just fought mumbling something into the communicator patch on the back of her hand. Before Zyra could swear at herself for not removing the guard’s communicator, Skringler marched back toward the guard brandishing the guard’s pistol. The guard’s eyes grew wide as he stood over her and raised the weapon to her head. Zyra opened her mouth in protest, but her voice never came. A brilliant burst from the gun burned a large hole in the side of the guard’s head. Smoke rose from blackened flesh when the guard slumped back down never to move again. Zyra darkened with anger when Skringler turned around to flash his teeth. She closed the distance between them in a few long strides.

“No one was supposed to die!”

Skringler lifted a black brow, appearing almost more hurt than confused. “Says who?”

“Give me your gun!”

“I’m holding on to it for safe keepin’,” Skringler said while drawing back his cuffed hands from her.

The alarm seemed to grow louder, reminding Zyra that there was no time to have this fight with Skringler.

“I’ll deal with you later. Let’s just get out of here!”

Zyra turned and bolted down the hallway with Skringler in her wake. It didn’t take long for her to reach the intercepting hallway. She flattened herself against the wall and peered around the corner. She bit down on her bottom lip and took in her surroundings, jerking her head from left to right, then left again. Her mind was racing at light speed to remember which end of the hallway would lead her to her destination. She snapped her head to the right when she heard the heavy footfalls of guards approaching.

She dashed into the hallway and veered left, only to hear more female voices shouting ahead. Zyra cursed her bad luck, spun around, and backtracked, leading Skringler into the hallway from where they had come. He knitted his thick eyebrows, looking confused. But she ignored him and hooked the corner that took them past the dead prison guard. Zyra’s stomach twisted when more voices came from up ahead. She flew down the next hall until she came to a gate not far from Skringler’s cell.

“What’re you doin’? We just came from here!”

“We can’t reach the sewers,” she said, punching Mikaela’s lengthy security code into the controls for the gate. “We’re going to have to get out of here the old-fashioned way.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means keep your eyes open and do what I say!”

When she hit the last numerical entry, the access light on the gate went from a dreary red to a vibrant green. She heard a loud click as she shoved the gate open just wide enough for herself and Skringler to get through. They had just passed through the gate when sparks bloomed around them. Zyra slammed the gate shut and stepped out of the path of a scarlet beam that nearly struck her. The ground shook when several guards in gray fatigues charged them while firing their weapons. Zyra knew she had to slow the guards down if they were to have a chance to escape. She pointed her gun at the controls on the gate and squeezed her eyes shut to keep them from being injured. A brilliant flash from the barrel left sparks gushing out from the melted circuits.

“Go!”

Skringler did as Zyra commanded and advanced down the hallway. She fired several warning shots back at the guards and saw them duck. She leapt off of her back foot and raced down the hallway behind Skringler, glancing backwards only once to see her pursuers fiddling with the busted controls of the gate.

They ran down the full length of the hallway, passing by a queue of unoccupied cells. When she reached the end of the hallway, she leaned against a wall, grabbed her aching side, and doubled over, huffing and puffing.

“Too late to ask you to take me back to my cell?” Skringler asked. Zyra gave him a scowl.

“You have to ask?”

***

Zyra ducked from the energy bolt that would have ended her life. More beams of heated plasma blazed through the air. She fired several rounds at the ceiling behind her. Lights popped and exploded, causing the guards to stumble and trip to avoid being cut and burned by hot glass. She lengthened her stride to put as much distance between the guards and herself as possible. She turned the corner only to be greeted by another volley of scarlet beams. Zyra barely managed to avoid being struck down and joined Skringler where he sidled against the wall. She heard the sporadic thumps of the heavy boots of the guards zeroing on her from up ahead and behind her.

“We ain’t gettin’ out of here today, Sister.”

“I’ve had enough of this!” Zyra said, flicking her thumb to change the setting of her weapon to stun. She extended her hand around the edge of the wall and unleashed on the approaching guards. The air stank of superheated metal as her blasts tore through the ranks of the guards. More than one female form crumbled to the floor as electrical arcs raced along their wilted bodies.

“Zanr!”

Zyra turned to see Skringler standing behind her firing his pistol at several guards bearing swords who slipped past his shots. She paled, knowing Skringler would be overrun and cut down in an instant. She hadn’t come this far to let that happen. She launched herself at the guards’ with a battle cry as a brilliant flash of red flame erupted from her left fist. The air hissed like an angry serpent as she swung her RISK blade at the guards and met them in a clash of blazing swordplay. The Venusian guards were as fierce as any combatants she had ever faced. They were a race of women that had been forged in the heat of combat: skilled, vicious, and merciless. Now the air burned from their energized weapons. Zyra spun and hacked at them—lunging, parrying, and rebuffing their attacks.

A wail came from one of the guards when she grabbed the burning stump at her elbow that used to be her arm. Another joined in with a horrible shriek when Zyra’s RISK blade severed her arm at the shoulder. She smashed her fist into the jaw of another guard and whipped around to send her RISK blade through the midsection of the guard behind her, leaving her sprawled on the floor, her torn belly spewing black smoke in the air.

The battle was over as quickly as it had begun with only Zyra standing amongst mutilated figures. She looked up to see Skringler finishing off the rest of the guards with steady rounds into their torsos.

“This way, now!”

Zyra didn’t have to say it twice. They ran away knowing they had bought themselves just a little more time. Zyra’s heart pounded in her chest as she heard a clamor in the distance.

No one was supposed to die.

She had meant those words when she said them to Skringler. But now, she had aided in the deaths of not one, but several guards. Even if the guards she had mutilated with her RISK blade survived, she was still responsible for the guards killed by Skringler. After all, she was the one who had sprung him from his cell.

This situation was spiraling out of control. She had to get out of the prison before it got worse. Zyra stopped all of a sudden, glanced behind her to check for guards, and started inputting commands on the communications patch on the back of her right hand. She was greeted by the familiar prompt from the Helship-II’s computer. It didn’t take long for her to send her commands to her ship. A moment later, everything went dark around her.

“What’s happening?” Skringler asked.

“Giving us some cover,” Zyra said. She activated her RISK blade again, using its glow to help them see in the dark. “The way out is up ahead. Just keep your eyes peeled.”

Zyra led the way forward, walking lightly to avoid drawing unnecessary attention.

“Gotta hand it to you. It’s a clever move, going to the trash disposal room.”

“How did you know?”

“It’s what I wanted to do. Catch a ride on a junk ship after a drop.”

Zyra pursed her lips. “I don’t know if I should be impressed or disgusted that we came up with the same plan.”

“You can say what you like, but you’re more like me than you want to admit.”

“We had this conversation before, remember?” Zyra said, keeping her eyes straight ahead to look out for danger.

“You can fool others, but you can’t fool me. You walk like me. You even kill like me. I feel like a proud father.”

“You’re full of shit.”

“Admit it, Zanr. You’re cut from the same cloth as I am.”

Zyra brought her eyebrows together, ignoring Skringler. Seeing she wasn’t in the mood for talking, he grew silent. A few minutes passed before they stood on a platform that overlooked a large room where the loud clink and rattling of machines could be heard. She peered over the edge of the platform to see mechanized figures collaborating with automated machines to process and dispose of huge mounds of refuse.

“Never thought the sight of trash would put a smile on my face.”

Before Zyra could reply, the lights came back on and with them the familiar shriek of the alarm.

“Come on. We’re not out of this yet.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Zyra peered from behind a large containment bin and observed the comings and goings of the trash disposal bots as they whirred about on a set of tracked wheels. In appearance, they weren’t very different from their military counterparts. Their armored hides protected them from the blazing heat of the blast furnaces while their clawed hands allowed them to grip and transport trash sleds. They lacked the sophistication of their more advanced cousins, but they did what they had been created to do. Unfortunately, they didn’t make it easy for her to keep a low profile or to detect security.

She scanned the area, dragging her eyes past the enormous trash bins where refuse had been piled high into the air, and searched for prison guards who might be concealed amongst their number. While gripping her pistol, she made a sideways gesture with her head, urging Skringler to scamper over to her position from his hiding place twenty meters away under the stairs that led to the main floor of the trash disposal room. Once safely at her side, he dropped to a knee and, in turn, flicked his eyes to their immediate left. Zyra craned her neck around the bin and frowned at the guards marching by them from open elevator doors.

“Looks like those guards decided to crash our party,” Skringler said with a sneer.

Zyra could tell he was getting fidgety. “We’ve only got one shot at this, so listen up. See that hover lift over by the Loading Bay station?” Zyra cocked her head to the side to indicate where Skringler should look. His sneer turned into a grimace. “I need you to go over and get it ready for flight. While you’re doing that, I’m going over to those controls to initiate a trash dump.”

“Won’t those guards hear you?”

“I’m counting on it.”

“Fine. But you’ll have to take these off,” Skringler said while brandishing his handcuffs.

This was the part of Zyra’s plan that she didn’t like. Removing Skringler’s handcuffs was like letting an angry tiger out of its cage. Unfortunately, she didn’t have much choice. She reached into her pants pocket to remove the keys she had there and unlocked Skringer’s handcuffs. He rubbed his sore wrists and gave Zyra a warped grin. She hoped she wouldn’t regret removing his binds.

Zyra pushed aside her nagging concerns and turned around so that she could rest her palm flat against the bin. Next, she moved her head just slightly from behind the bin to watch the guards moving past her line of vision. She held her pistol at her hip, ready to open fire on anyone who got too close for comfort. Without removing her gaze from the guards, Zyra flashed a pair of fingers at Skringler. He took the cue and moved to the other side of the bin, drawing close to its edge so he could run across the open space to the stack of crates that would continue to conceal him from the guards. Zyra shot a sideways glance to Skringler to watch him bolt away from their hiding place. He hadn’t reached the crates when one of the patrolling guards shifted her eyes to look his way. Zyra’s lips formed a curse. Her admiration of the quasi-telepathic talents of the Venusians had reached its limit.

She squinted and watched breathlessly as Skringler dove behind the crates and slid across the slick floor. His head struck one of the crates, causing it to topple from the top of the stack. Skringler raised his hands to catch the crate and had the wind knocked out of him in the process. Zyra breathed out a sigh of relief when the guard continued on her way toward the opposite end of the room.

Skringler, in the meantime, rolled onto his side to put the crate down quietly. Movement from the top of the crates caught Zyra’s attention. She lifted her gaze up into the air to see a crow bar fall from one of the crates. She imagined the guards converging on them as soon as the bar struck the metal floor. Skringler had just sat up with his back against the crates when the bar struck him on the back of the head. Zyra winced, thinking Skringler’s neck had broken from the unnatural way his head snapped forward. She was almost relieved to see him cast a glare at her as he held the pipe in his hand. She shrugged and gave him an awkward grin.

Shifting her attention back to the mission, Zyra walked from a crouched position back to the other side of the bin and waited until the coast was clear before making a mad dash to the operations control management station. She ran up a short flight of metal steps to the operations control interface. It only took her a moment to make sense of the controls, after which she toggled a switch that powered up one of the large cranes on the far side of the room. As planned, the mechanized drone of the moving crane drew the attention of the guards. She ducked down behind the instrument console and cracked a small grin as the guards scrambled over to the crane on the other side of the room and away from the loading bay doors. She glanced over to Skringler to see him mounting the hover sled directly across the room from her.

Zyra slid an index finger across the controls for the loading bay doors and heard them rumble to life. She was just about to make her exit from the operations management control system when she heard shouting. Her head snapped over just in time to see the hail of red bolts coming her way. She ducked again to keep from being cut down by the lethal beams of light and heard the loud bang of the control console going up in flames. She raised a hand to shield her face from the blistering heat and fired off shots back at the guards. She only managed to anger them and had to duck again from their intensified attack.

Zyra knew she would be cooked alive if she didn’t get away from the burning console. Fortunately, her plan to distract the guards with a trash dump worked. The deafening groan of the loading bay doors opening became the focal point of their attention. Zyra hopped over the support rail of the operating station and landed on the floor with a thud. She looked up to see several of the guards breaking away to pursue Skringler.

“Dammit!”

In a foolish act of senseless bravery, Zyra ran across the path of the guards hoping to draw their attention back to her. To her growing disappointment, her planned worked. She was forced to dodge the scarlet bolts that zipped by her head. She let off a few wild shots back at her pursuers, not daring to stop to look back for fear that a break in her stride would be the end of her. By now, Skringler had powered up the hover sled and steered it through the air toward the increasing gap that appeared in the center of the room. A gush of powerful wind screamed into the room as several tons of trash fell through the open doors. The guards fixed their weapons on Skringler and unloaded on him. The red-hot beams of light exploded on the metal frame of the hover sled. There was a bright flash when the metal shielding protecting its anti-grav motor was penetrated. Zyra’s eyes grew wide when the hover sled spun out of control, smashed into the floor, and hurled Skringler into a tumbled heap.

Zyra didn’t know if it was desperation or anger that got the best of her, but she made a complete revolution while slipping her second pistol out of her holster and turned to face the volley of gunfire coming her way. She changed the setting of her weapons to stun and unloaded on the figures in her wake, multiple shots from her weapons striking each of them over and over again, incapacitating blue bolts of electricity rippling across their twisting bodies. A haze of smoke rose from the downed guards as she spun back around to reach Skringler.

She grabbed him by the shoulder and dragged him to the hover sled. The sled whirred in protest as she attempted to reactivate it. It keeled to the side, nearly throwing her off of its circular platform. Only a quickly extended hand to grab onto its support rail kept her on her feet. Zyra cried out from the white-hot sparks that showered her when a plasma bolt got too close for comfort. Her skin hurt from the hot metal flakes that burned through her clothing. She steadied her aim, fired back at the guards and watched them take sanctuary behind metal carts filled with trash around the room. Skringler regained his bearings and stood back up next to Zyra.

“Get this bucket of bolts running or we’re dead meat!” she said while dropping her shoulder to avoid being shot. She leapt off of the sled to try to draw some of the gunfire away. She only hoped Skringler could get the sled working again before one of the guards got her in her sights.

The sled whined and screeched as he attempted to power up its hover motor. Zyra saw another female form go limp from one of her shots. She backpedaled and shot out the windows of one of the power cranes just above the heads of the guards. They scrambled to avoid the sharp pieces of glass. A well-placed shot severed the hydraulic line on the large crane arm, spraying black fluid into their faces and making them slip on the floor.

Zyra turned around to see the hover sled lifting off of the ground and ran toward the retreating vehicle with an outstretched hand.

“Wait!”

“Sorry, Sweetheart. But this is a one-man show,” Skringler said as the hover sled drifted further from her. He gave Zyra a wink before firing a blue bolt from his gun into her chest. All she remembered was hearing her own shriek as her blood boiled and everything around her went black.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Zyra paced around her cramp cell, trying to shake the stiffness from her arms and legs. The faces of the guards killed in the prison break pushed their way to the front of her mind. They were nameless faces—morbid, and cantankerous—hounding her from beyond the world of the living. She could almost hear them whispering to her, spewing obscenities, mortifying voices that damned her over and over.

She wrapped her arms around herself: an embrace meant to calm her queasiness. Hours had gone by, perhaps days (she’d long since lost track of time), without sleep. Her eyes were puffy and swollen from the strain of keeping them open. She imagined her eyes were spotted red from broken blood vessels. Every now and then she would hear chattering like flies buzzing around a rotting corpse. She could almost make out the words and might have decoded them if she didn’t scold herself for letting her imagination get the best of her. There were no voices down here. Just the unquiet of her mind run amok from lack of sleep.

She peered down at her feet, thinking she was going mad, pacing in the same circle for nearly an hour. She never did like closed-in surroundings. Only her daily exertions in which she labored to keep herself busy got her through her days aboard the Helship-II. Zyra was far too wild a creature to be kept penned within such confined spaces.

Her brows dropped as her mood soured. Her exhaustion was giving way to anger, the same anger she had felt when she watched Skringler open fire on the helpless prison guard he’d killed. She hunched her shoulders, squeezing herself harder, trying to force the chill out of her bones. She only managed to upset herself more. She interrupted her manic stride when the loud clink of the cell door opening echoed in her ears. Her eyes shot over to the door, curious to see who it was that had decided to make her entrance. Just as quickly, they retreated from the glare of the woman standing in the slanting light from the hallway beyond.

“Why, Zyra? Why did you do it?”

Soft footfalls made Zyra start. She shivered as invisible, sharp teeth greedily snapped at her flesh. She dropped her arms to her side, accepting that they could not shield her from the chill running through her body. Her eyes fixed on the darkness, determined not to meet Mikaela’s gaze. “Zyra?”

“I’m sorry.” It was a pitiful response, but a heartfelt one.

“Is that all you have to say?”

Words choked in Zyra’s throat, rising and falling away like a lost moment caught in the irreversible ebb of time.

“They’re putting you on trial for the deaths of those guards.”

Cold air burned Zyra’s lungs as she inhaled deeply. Mikaela’s report of an impending trial was not news to her. It was inevitable that she would be charged for the unfortunate deaths of the guards.

“I didn’t want to kill anyone.”

Another fact. But it didn’t make her situation any easier to accept.

“But you did.”

“It was Boris.”

Mikaela’s face tightened. “Boris?”

Zyra frowned, silently cursing the name that lingered in the air. It had been a long time since she called Skringler by his first name. A retraction was needed.

“I mean, Skringler.”

Mikaela’s eyes were muddled gray orbs in the dark cell. The intelligence in them only reflected back Zyra’s confusion and sorrow.

“What’s going on, Zyra? I want to know the truth.”

“I made a mistake, that’s all.”

The soft freckles in Mikaela’s face were lost to her darkening hue.

“I’m not a fool, Zyra. You hacked into my computer, accessed secured files from CentraNet, stole my security clearance information, and aided in the escape of a murderer. You didn’t do that because of some misplaced sense of justice.”

Zyra had always endured Mikaela’s scrutiny, more out of wonder of how well she could read her, than patronage. But the wound of Skringler’s betrayal was fresh, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable. Regardless of what she had done, Mikaela had to back off.

“Leave, Mika,” Zyra said as she started to retreat to the back of the cell. A firm hand to her shoulder spun her back around.

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.”

“Not here. Not now.” Zyra’s voice was harsh. She couldn’t recall ever speaking to Mikaela in such a threatening tone. Her feral side was growing wild and dangerous.

“I didn’t want to believe it. But it’s true, isn’t it?”

“What are you implying?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

Zyra’s eyes turned to slits of ice in the darkness. “No, I don’t.”

“You still love him, don’t you?” A thunderbolt struck Zyra in the chest, causing her to rage. She stormed away from Mikaela. “Answer me!”

She whipped back around, eyes like flaming cobalt in her face. Mikaela had gone too far. “Of course not!”

Mikaela matched her fire, burning so brightly it threatened to start a conflagration. “You’re lying. Or you’re in denial. Either way, it’s a problem.”

“You’re imagining things.”

“I don’t think so. You’re unhinged, like him.”

“Go away, Mika. Don’t make me say something I’ll regret.”

“After what you have done, regret is all I have left.”

Zyra balled her hands into fists and drove her knuckles into her temple. She didn’t remove them until the pain sent jolts into her eyeballs. “You think I want to hurt you? You think I want to throw away what we have?”

“I don’t know what you want anymore, but it isn’t me.”

“How can you say that? I did this for us.”

“For us? Don’t you dare try to make me complicit in your crimes. You broke that murderous son of a bitch out of prison without a thought of what it would do to me.”

Zyra cried out in anger and pounded her fist on the wall. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. I had a plan. If Skringler hadn’t—”

“You trusted a snake and you’re surprised you got bit? I thought you were smarter than that.”

Zyra pushed her palm into her brow. “I was a fool to think I could control him.”

Mikaela shook her head. “This isn’t going to end well, Zyra.”

Zyra’s lungs grew tight as she drew staggered breaths. “Maybe I can talk to your queen. Maybe she’ll understand if I explain why I did what I did.”

Mikaela was on the verge of hysteria. “Are you listening to yourself? Do you think Queen Karah will let you live after what you’ve done?”

“I...”

“We could have spent our lives together, Zyra. But you don’t want what I have to offer. Instead, you threw away everything to save the life of a dirt bag.”

“Mika...”

Mikaela started pacing. “I don’t know what happened to you out there in space, but you’re not the same person I fell in love with. The Zyra I loved would never lift a finger to save a monster.” Mikaela lowered her voice as a sneer worked its way onto her lips. “Do you love him that much?”

Zyra placed both of her hands on the wall and shut her eyes. Her breaths came slowly now, controlled, calmness seeping into her soul with every measured inhale.

“I don’t love him. I just want to put my life in order. I did it for the money. You know that.”

“No, Zyra. I don’t know that.”

Zyra opened her eyes again and turned around to look at Mikaela. She was more hurt than angry. Zyra couldn’t blame her.

“What I do know is that you’ve been lying to me ever since you told me why you came to New Venus. You were going to let Skringler go free.”

Zyra’s body went tight. “That’s not true.”

“I’m no fool, Zyra. You knew what would happen if you gave Skringler over to the Alliance. They’d have killed him just like Karah had planned to do. You didn’t do it for the money.” Mikaela’s frown deepened. “You can lie to me, but you can’t lie to yourself. You were never going to take him to the Alliance, were you?”

Zyra grew silent. Mikaela saw through her pathetic lies and every attempt she made to deny the truth only deepened the wedge between them.

Mikaela pressed the issue. “Zyra?”

“You don’t understand. I owe him.”

“Owe him? Why?”

“I just do.”

Mikaela’s chest expanded as she took a deep breath and let her arms remain straight at her side. “I wasn’t going to come to see you, not after what you did to me. But I thought you should know the truth.” Mikaela’s voice took on a tone sharp enough to cut glass. “I’ve been placed on temporary suspension while I’m investigated. If they even get a hint that I’m involved with this, they’re going to charge me with treason.”

“But you’re innocent!”

“The queen thinks I helped you free Skringler.”

Zyra dropped her face into her hands, fighting back streaming tears. This was far worse than she had imagined. Why hadn’t she thought things through? She should have known Mikaela would have been implicated in Skringler’s escape. Then it struck her: she had known Mikaela would suffer for her actions.

“You shouldn’t have done it, Zyra. You shouldn’t have risked our lives for a filthy murderer.”

“I didn’t mean for this to happen to you.”

“Well, it did.”

Silence crept into the cell, making the cool air feel even colder.

“Chances are good they’ll lock me up before the week is out. I wanted to see you for one final time, in case—”

Zyra waited for it, braced herself for Mikaela’s dreadful pronouncement. But the words never came. Her eyes took in the darkness again and followed Mikaela as she drifted to the front of the cell. She stood with her back to Zyra, her silhouette caught in the wash of light coming through the doorway.

“Whatever happens, I won’t lie for you. Even if it means the end of us.”

With that, she was gone.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Zyra flinched, a sharp brilliance stinging her eyes. She raised a hand to her face, shielding it from the glare coming from the front of her dark cell. Her eyes hurt, but slowly adjusted to the glare to observe the distorted shapes moving toward her.

“You will remain where you are. Any sudden movement will result in me activating your shock-suit.”

Zyra recognized the voice of Warden Seris, coming quickly to attention as she pushed herself up from the hard floor. Her sleep-crusted eyes caught the glint of metal when she sat up straight and withdrew from the remote Seris brandished in her hand. Seris had seized every opportunity to make Zyra’s imprisonment a living nightmare. She was the typical steward of inmates: harsh and unyielding, ruling her kingdom with an iron fist. Zyra had submitted to all of her captor’s demands, but she still managed to incur her wrath. Her body was sore from the last time Seris lost her temper.

“You’ve put on quite a spectacle, Ms. Zanr, but the show is over.”

Zyra’s gaze shifted to the pale face of the woman who had been the thorn in her side for the past two days. The cross stare she received evoked one of her own. “Queen Karah?” Zyra was just able to make out the slightest hint of a nod and blinked her eyes again to clear her vision.

“I imagine it was the only card you had to play, trying to make my people feel guilty for our laws. But your performance in court earned you no one’s sympathy, least of all mine.”

Unspoken words invaded Zyra’s thoughts. No flowery speech or sermon could conceal them from her. “You’re going to execute me, aren’t you?”

The slit in the queen’s long dress rode up her thigh as she made a series of graceful steps toward Zyra. The expression on her face was unassuming, but threatening just the same. “To be frank, the trial was over before it began.”

“The verdict?”

Karah hefted a scarlet brow. “What else? Guilty.”

Zyra stood up slowly, keeping her arms at her side to avoid drawing the guards’ ire. “Why?”

Karah batted an eyelash and lifted her chin. “Why hold a public trial? Why broadcast the goings on of my court for the entire galaxy to see? Why make a martyr out of a bounty hunter? It’s simple. Political expediency.”

“I don’t understand.”

Karah rolled on with her explanation. Zyra got the impression she was gloating more than actually explaining anything.

“Granted, you broke the law. A law that is punishable by death. But this isn’t about you or Boris Skringler.”

“What?” Zyra had not expected this twist of events. Her ears perked, hanging on to every word the queen spoke.

“This may come as a shock to you, but I have far more important matters to worry about than a rogue bounty hunter and an escaped fugitive.”

“But the trial—”

“Was a façade.”

“You mean you weren’t going to execute Skringler?”

“I did not say that. I had every intention of having Skringler killed. His presence offends me.”

“And me?”

Karah’s lips curled. “Manna.”

“Manna?”

Karah batted her eyelashes again, a silent display of her superiority. “One of humanity’s oldest religions has a story about a people who were lost in the wilderness without food or water. They prayed to their deity for deliverance and were given manna, a divine food that fell from heaven. You’re my manna, Ms. Zanr. You’re the gift that fell from heaven.”

“You’re not making any sense.”

“I don’t expect you to understand. You are not Venusian.”

Zyra’s eyes flickered with understanding. “This is about the Alliance, isn’t it? You’re doing all of this to upset them.”

Karah’s grin eased into a full smile. She kept her back arched as she smoothed the wrinkles in her dress. “Perhaps I spoke too soon. You do understand.”

“I understand that the Alliance is pressuring you to join them.”

“More than that, Ms. Zanr. They want my army.”

Zyra’s spine tingled, as though she knew she was on the verge of discovering a terrible secret. “Why?”

“For their impending war with the Legion of Worlds.”

Zyra’s eyes moved back and forth in their socket, her mind racing to process everything she had heard.

“You know what I speak of, don’t you?”

“I’ve heard rumors, but I don’t believe the Alliance wants war.” Zyra had to admit that her knowledge of the unfolding events was incomplete, but she knew enough of the Alliance’s military capabilities to make the statement with some level of certainty.

“They want it, all right,” Karah said, her smile morphing into a grimace. “They also want my army on their frontlines when the fighting begins. Can you imagine the fear that would strike in the hearts of its enemies? The mighty InterGalactic Alliance going to war alongside the great Venusian army? It sounds glorious, doesn’t it?”

“Your people are free. You don’t have to fight for anyone. Doesn’t matter anyway. The Alliance isn’t going to war with the Legion.”

“Again, you reveal your ignorance.”

“You’re wrong. The Alliance isn’t strong enough to fight the Legion. Our fleet would have to travel the span of multiple galaxies and fight over six million worlds. We could never assemble an army large enough to control such a vast territory of space and that’s assuming we survive trading beams with races who are far older and more technologically advanced than our oldest member-world.”

“As I said, you know nothing. The Alliance wants this war. They’re begging for it!”

Karah was a proud woman, but her refusal to accept the truth of Zyra’s words only proved her haughtiness was misplaced.

“Didn’t you hear me? I said the Alliance doesn’t have enough ships or soldiers to fight the Legion.”

Karah dipped her head forward slightly to let her crimson locks fall in front of her face. She was a goddess looking down on a small insignificant child. “Ships and soldiers won’t matter if you have made the right preparations.”

Zyra tasted ash in her mouth as anticipation built up within her. Her heart beat just a little faster. “Preparation?”

“Isn’t it obvious? The Alliance wouldn’t be considering this war if they didn’t think they could win it. Which means only one thing.”

Zyra’s jaw dropped. “They have a secret weapon?”

Having finally gotten through, Queen Karah regained her full height. Her voice became less harsh and more musical, as if she were singing her words rather than speaking them. “I haven’t any idea what this weapon is, but I’m sure the Alliance has been planning this war for years and was waiting until the time was right. They must have something in their arsenal that the Legion cannot repel. If not a weapon, then something else—something terrible.”

“If they have a new weapon to destroy the Legion, why do they need your people to join them?”

“Why, indeed?”

Zyra was flustered. She couldn’t understand how any of this made sense or how she factored into the queen’s plans. “Even if everything you say is true, it doesn’t explain why you need me.”

“Need you? I’m afraid not.”

“You said you were going to execute me.”

Karah got that twinkle in her eye that Zyra had seen when she had faced her in court. It was the look of a shark getting ready to crush a seal in its toothy jaws. “I am going to execute you, but not for the reason you think.”

“Why, then?”

“Haven’t you figured it out by now?”

Zyra considered all that she had heard and frowned. The answer to everything had been staring her in the face all this time. Why hadn’t she seen it before? “You’re using me to blackmail the Alliance.” It was a statement rather than a question, but the weight of her words squeezed the air out of her lungs.

“Precisely. The Alliance has forced my hand. As a result, I have taken the necessary precautions to protect my people.”

Karah had proven herself to be far more treacherous than a dancing snake. The complicated web of subterfuge and lies made Zyra’s head hurt.

“By killing me? I don’t see how I fit into your plans.”

“Your government will not accept my refusal to join it unless it is made to. My people are a proud race. We value our freedom more than anything else. The Alliance, on the other hand, craves only power. It’s a black hole that swallows worlds and oppresses its citizenry. The Alliance courts its own destruction by beating its chest at the Legion of Worlds. Billions of worlds are watching, impatiently waiting to see what will happen if the Alliance flexes its muscle. It cannot afford to lose face to a single world if it intends to go to war with the Legion. It cannot allow New Venus to defy it by executing its citizens, regardless of the crime or the perpetrator. That would be a sign of weakness and a sign that the Alliance is a paper tiger. For the Alliance, that would be lethal.”

Zyra’s confusion waxed, making her dizzy.

“I don’t get it. What will killing me solve? The Alliance hates me. It won’t lift a finger to save my life.”

“No, but it will act on its own behalf.”

Before Karah could say anything else, another guard marched into the cell. Karah spun around to greet her.

“Your Majesty. I regret to inform you that SpaceComm has detected a large fleet of ships approaching our orbit.”

“What markings do the ships bear?”

“We cannot see their insignias, but the energy signatures match those of InterGalactic Alliance battleships.”

Zyra noticed Karah make such a tight fist that her nails drew blood from her palm.

“So they have finally made their move. Tell Command and Control to expect me.” She turned to face Zyra. “As I said, your government will act to save its own hide, even if it means butchering my people.”

Zyra’s eyes caught the glare from outside her cell, making them appear cerulean against the darkness. “There has to be another way to get what you want. You don’t have to kill me.”

Karah’s face grew ruddy as her mouth formed a straight line.

“Your death will save the lives of many of my people. It is unfortunate that you were not born as one of us, Ms. Zanr. You would have made a fine Venusian.”

Zyra glared at Karah as she turned to leave the cell. “Even if I die, it won’t change anything. You can’t defeat the Alliance.”

Karah turned back around to look at Zyra, a cold fire burning in her eyes. “I don’t have to defeat the Alliance. I only have to make it bleed.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Sirens shrieked as hundreds of women in yellow and red flight suits scrambled down the docking bay. Their feet pattered beneath them as they scattered like angry hornets, bolting toward the unoccupied fighters sprawled about them. The floor rumbled from the exploding thrusters of ships taking off for vertical flight. Panic gripped the faces of the flight control attendants and ship mechanics racing by each other to bring order to the helter-skelter dance.

It hadn’t taken long for the pilots to suit up and board their ships when the alarm that summoned the planetary defense force began blaring throughout Venus City. They had regularly performed drills to maintain their readiness in case of an emergency. Though their hearts pounded a little harder from the adrenaline coursing through their veins, it was the anticipation of real combat that gave them the extra push. They had said good-bye to their young ones and lovers knowing that they might never meet again. Death loomed close and even the lowly mechanics could sense it.

A sound like thunder clapped loudly as several ships lunged forward in a sudden burst and rocketed out of the docking bay doors. The ships, which at first appeared to launch chaotically, formed squadrons in midair before screaming past the underground tunnels and toward the wide rim of the sky. Scorched earth spun behind them as they left a winnowing cloud of dust. Soon the blue sky morphed into a field of stars. It wasn’t until they got their bearing that they realized it wasn’t stars they were facing, but rather thousands of ships.

***

“Look at them, Commander! Don’t they realize we have them outgunned?”

With his maddening tendency to state the obvious, Ensign Dale Voors had mastered the art of annoying Commander Sheehan. Were it not for the fact that he was a damn good flight navigator, Sheehan would have sacked him before they left port.

“Mere gnats, Ensign. To think the Venusians are among the most feared warriors in the galaxy. But now that I look upon them, I do not tremble.”

The lines in his stoic face eased. Why should I? They have launched their entire planetary defense force, but they are indeed nothing more than gnats to be swatted by my fleet.

“Sir, scanners are detecting huge fluctuations of radiation bursts coming from the planet surface. I think they are trying to scan us.”

“Increase the output to the magnetic field disrupters. I don’t want our prey getting a peek at our special delivery before it’s time to unwrap the ribbon. When you’re done, open a channel to SpaceComm and tell them I have a message for their queen.”

***

Queen Karah marched into Command and Control flanked by a coterie of armed guards. Her eyebrows appeared a brighter shade of red against the glare coming from the far side of the room.

“How did the Alliance get past orbital defense?” she asked.

“We don’t know, Your Majesty. We received a distress signal from ORD a few seconds before we lost the signal,” Commander Eva Killian said, her dark hair bound in a single long braid behind her. Karah watched Killian spin back around to look at the holoscreen on the control center in front of her and lurch forward to punch a sequence of numbers into the data computer. Though far from an old woman, the lines in her face deepened under the glare of the holoscreen.

“Can you make audio contact?”

Killian had her hand pressed to her earpiece to listen to incoming transmissions and managed a sideways glance at Karah.

“Negative. All attempts to reestablish contact with ORD have failed.”

“Then give me visuals.”

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty. The Alliance fleet is using some kind of jamming frequency to prevent long-range probes, visual included.”

“Why? What is it they don’t want us to see?”

“My guess is ORD is gone.”

“Gone?”

“Visuals are down. However, Radar still works. I can detect our ships and the enemy fleet, but there’s no sign of ORD. I fear it’s been destroyed.”

“Impossible! Even if they sent their entire armada, they couldn’t destroy our orbital defense system without—”

Karah froze, remembering her conversation with Zyra Zanr. What if the Alliance was jamming their probes in order to keep them from scanning their weapons systems? That would mean...

“Visuals are back, Your Majesty. Wait. We have an incoming transmission! It’s the fleet commander. He wishes to speak with you.”

Karah’s eyes darkened.

“Put him on the main screen.”

She watched the snowy image on the screen fizzle out before a tall, lanky man with a wan complexion and close-cropped scarlet hair appeared.

“Greetings, Queen Karah. I am Commander Padraic Sheehan of the InterGalactic Alliance Navy. On behalf of President Upshaw and the InterGalactic Alliance Military High Command, I order you to stand down and surrender custody of the two Alliance citizens you are unlawfully holding. You will recognize them as the criminal Boris Skringler and intergalactic bounty hunter Zyra Zanr.”

Karah’s face grew more ruddy from the insolence of the Alliance Commander than the glare from the screen.

“I do not see how that is possible, Commander. Skringler and Zanr are awaiting execution for crimes committed against my people.”

“Skringler and Zanr are citizens of the InterGalactic Alliance and must be tried for their crimes in our court of law.”

Karah was not surprised by Sheehan’s request. She had suspected all along that Zanr had been sent to her world by the Alliance. Sheehan’s request only confirmed it. She had to suppress a grin. The Alliance had taken her bait and she was now in the driver’s seat. If the Alliance genuinely wanted Skringler and Zanr, she could force them to submit to her terms. However, if they were using this as a means to gain control of her, they would come to regret it.

“I told you. They have both been tried and found guilty of breaking the laws of New Venus. Their execution must and shall be performed by my people. If your government wants Skringler and Zanr to be extradited to them, why hasn’t an official request been given?”

“I am the official request.”

The dimple in Karah’s cheeks deepened as her lips twisted into a sneer. Although Zanr was being held under lock and key, she had no idea where Skringler was hiding. She couldn’t imagine that the Alliance knew about his escape from prison. Or did they?

“They are my prisoners. I refuse to give them back to you!”

Sheehan leaned closer to the screen, enlarging his image.

“Perhaps you do not understand. If you do not entrust Skringler and Zanr to my custody, my orders are to destroy your defense ships and take your world by force. That will mean the guaranteed deaths of many of your citizens. Is that what you want, Queen?”

“Do you think my people are cowards? We would rather die than submit to an invader.”

Sheehan’s slant of a jaw grew squarer as he withdrew from the screen and folded his hands behind his back “I understand this is not an easy call for you to make. So as a courtesy, I will give you exactly three hours to make your decision, after which you will transfer your prisoners to me, or I shall order my fleet to attack your forces and seize control of your world. Your people’s lives are in your hands.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Zyra heard the soft hum of her cell door opening just before the lights came on. Warden Seris marched toward her toting a shock-suit.

“You were supposed to have an audience with the queen today. Heard it was going to be your final performance in court before they turn the lights out on you. But you got lucky. Seems your friends in the Alliance decided to stop by and kick up dust. Everyone’s tripping over their feet trying to burrow themselves in good so they don’t get pasted when the fighting starts. I’m not sure how things are gonna play out. So I wanna make sure you’re dressed for the occasion in case we gotta move you real suddenly.” Zyra didn’t meet the woman’s gaze and let her stare drift off to the side. Seris tossed her outfit on the floor. “Go ahead and suit up. At least we’ll know you’ll be on your best behavior.”

Zyra didn’t give any sign she had heard Seris and maintained her docile expression.

“Didn’t you hear me? I said suit up!”

When Zyra failed to respond, Seris drew her baton from her belt and whipped it through the air. “We go through this every single morning, but you don’t seem to get a clue. Guess I gotta beat it into you again.” Seris lurched and hefted the baton over her head. Before she could strike, Zyra lunged forward and tackled her. She could hear the air sailing out of Seris’s lungs as they slammed into the floor. Zyra ripped Seris’s baton out of her hand and smashed her repeatedly in the face with it until she went limp beneath her. Instead of face, all Zyra could see was a lump of bloody, swollen flesh and broken teeth. She tossed the baton to the floor and began ripping the woman’s clothes off.

***

With sure, steady steps, Zyra made her way down the cellblock, looking as if she hadn’t a care in the world. When another guard approached her from the far side of the block, she grabbed the visor on her head and pulled it closer over her eyes. The guard was whistling and dragging her baton on the barred peeps of the cells, rattling them. Zyra kept her head straight, but lowered her head to shield her face from the guard.

“Top o’ the morning, Warden.”

Zyra made the subtlest of nods to the guard, but kept silent. She didn’t realize she wasn’t breathing until she exhaled at the end of the cellblock. Her heart was beating so furiously she didn’t know why the entire security force wasn’t bearing down on her now. She removed the security key card from her shirt pocket and swiped it. The door unlocked, giving her passage. She walked by more guards and increased her pace to get away from them as quickly as possible. Sweat ran down her face.

Keep it together, girl. Not much further to go.

Before Zyra could take another breath, a siren wailed. Her heart leapt inside her breast as she bolted down the hallway.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

In spite of its legendary reputation as a world without crime, New Venus, like any other inhabited world, had a seedy underbelly teeming with the usual cast of truants, perverts, scoundrels, thieves, smugglers, fugitives, and murderers. The fact that they possessed higher estrogen levels than their male counterparts only aided in the deception. The age-old belief that males were more inclined toward deviant behavior was a myth the Venusians did not attempt to counter. After having spent the last few decades deifying themselves to their galactic neighbors, it would have been sacrilege to admit that they had their own collection of degenerates just like everyone else. Keeping their criminals holed up in a prison deep below the surface of the world was just another way of foisting upon the universe the ridiculous notion that the Venusians were descended from the divine.

Zyra had always thought the Venusians had an overinflated sense of pride. She did not, however, dismiss the effectiveness of their brand of propaganda, especially when she was surrounded by flesh and blood examples of the extremes they went to in order to protect their gleaming image. Her chest heaved as she ran down the noisy cellblock, greeted by the howls of women shouting at her from behind the metal peeps of their cell doors. The women’s voices were jubilant, cheering her on as if she were a gladiator in an arena.

It was pandemonium in the prison and the alarm blaring throughout threatened to make her ears explode. Her breaths came fast and heavy as she covered the distance leading from the row of cells on either side of her to the adjacent cellblock. She squinted in the blinding glare of the spotlights beaming down on her from the ceiling several floors above. The unnatural light, designed to impair the vision of escaping prisoners, made it nearly impossible to see the way. With every breath she drew, her lungs burned, almost making her regret ever having attempted this suicidal escape. The futility of trying to escape what was virtually an inescapable prison impressed itself on her. Breaking into Synax Prison had been a cakewalk compared to what she faced now. She had spent days working out the plan to spring Skringler from his cell. But now that her previous means of escaping the prison was no longer available to her, her only shot at regaining her freedom was, quite literally, to walk out the front door. The odds of succeeding were practically nonexistent, but Zyra had always managed to accomplish impossible feats before. She hoped her luck would last long enough to pull off one more miracle.

Her chest pounded while the muscles in her arms and legs burned, protesting the intense pace at which she ran from her pursuers. But she simply lowered her head and pressed on, refusing to break her stride. She had no intention of becoming the next victim of Queen Karah’s Death Crown and would sooner die in an attempt to liberate herself from this iron can than surrender herself to an execution. The scarlet beam racing past her head let her know the guards had no intention of taking her back alive.

The cellblock spiraled around her, giving the false impression of being inside an antique rocket ship. Only the parade of prison cells winding around her spoiled the illusion. She glanced across the open circle dividing the prison to see several guards approaching from the opposite end of the prison. She knew there was no point in trying to get past them.

She ducked from another energy blast and hooked to her right, racing down the interior of the prison again. She ran down the full length of the cellblock and made a desperate left only to come to a dead end. She turned around and ran across the hallway but was met by a metal gate. With no other means of getting through, she grabbed the bars and tried to shake the gate loose, knowing all the while that it was in vain. She lowered her head, letting her long golden hair fall, counting the seconds before the guards arrived to kill her. The click-clack of boot heels echoing from ahead of her caused her to raise her eyes. They widened to see Mikaela approaching her from the other side of the gate.

She looked into Mikaela’s eyes, seeing none of their usual warmth or affection. Her gaze was harsh and cold, just like the prison. Mikaela stopped at the gate and studied Zyra for a moment, looking almost disgusted by her presence. But in Zyra’s eyes there was a silent plea for help.

Mikaela raised her hand to the gate controls and entered a sequence of numbers into the numerical keypad. There was a loud click as the gate unlocked and swung open. She slammed it shut once Zyra crossed its threshold.

They looked at each other, not saying a word. The anger in Mikaela’s eyes was apparent. Both of the women swung their heads around when they heard shouting and heavy footfalls.

“This way. Quick,” Mikaela said. Zyra did as she was told and ran down the hall, when several guards rushed into the hallway. Mikaela drew her gun from her holster and slowly backed away from the gate. She leveled her weapon with the gate controls and fired a burst through it. She lifted her gaze to the guards to see their confusion.

“What are you doing, Chief?”

Mikaela did not respond to the guards and spun around to follow in Zyra’s wake.

***

Zyra was completely out of breath by the time she caught up with Mikaela in a dark tunnel leading to a rail of tracks. Mikaela stepped to the end of the platform where a single-passenger transport sled stood. The sled was cold and dormant and looked as if it hadn’t been used in years. It had been constructed in true industrial fashion—built to perform its task without any thought to aesthetics. It stood upright on a single rail track; the totality of its turret-shaped passenger cab was nothing more than a rotund yellow metal frame with a fiberglass control console.

“This sled will take you out of the prison. There aren’t many guards who know about this tunnel, so it will be awhile before anyone figures out where you went.”

Zyra’s breath eased as she looked at Mikaela, watching her in silence as she used her keycard to activate the sled. When the sled hummed to life, Mikaela turned to look at Zyra and held the sled door open for her.

“You don’t have much time. You better get going.”

“Thanks.” Mikaela didn’t make any response. Zyra stepped onto the sled and heard the click of the door shutting. “It’s too dangerous for me to go back to your apartment. I’m going to Aurora Park. No one will look for me there. Will you come to see me?”

“I don’t know.”

“I really must speak with you.” Mikaela kept her face hard and emotionless, remaining noncommittal. “I’ll wait for you anyway.”

Zyra turned around with a rueful look and used the sled controls to accelerate down the track. She glanced back once at a shrinking Mikaela before turning back around.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“Your time is up, Queen Karah. What have you decided?” Sheehan asked, the slits of his eyes glaring at the main holoscreen. He watched the queen spin around from talking to one of her assistants to return his gaze.

“Commander Sheehan. How punctual.”

“Your decision?”

“I have decided, Commander, that the prisoners will remain in my custody until their execution can be carried out.”

“A foolish decision and one I can promise you will live to regret.”

Sheehan shifted slightly and gestured for Ensign Voors to end the transmission. The main screen went dark.

“Send a coded message to the other ships. Order them to—”

Before Sheehan could complete his orders, he saw a bright flash and spun his gaze to the secondary holoscreen to his right.

“What in space—”

Voors shouted over Sheehan. “Commander! Hundreds—no thousands of ships are appearing all around us!”

Sheehan’s eyes bulged as he watched the stars on the screen enlarge to form a myriad of black shapes.

“Markings on the ships belong to the Legion of Worlds!”

“How is this possible? We destroyed the jump gate before entering orbit!”

“You are correct, sir! They didn’t come from the jump gate. The ships are decloaking.”

“Where did they come from?”

“That’s just it, sir. They’ve been here all the time!”

“Damn queen. She knew we were coming!”

“How, sir? This mission was top-secret.”

“‘Know thy enemy.’”

“What?”

“It’s a battle strategy as old as time. The Venusians knew we were coming and planned for our arrival.”

“If what you say is true, that would mean—”

“Yes. New Venus has aligned herself with the Legion of Worlds.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Zyra pushed her way past the tangled branches of a small orange tree and focused on the figure standing just ahead of her. She cast a wary glance on either side of the dirt trail to make sure she wasn’t being watched. She felt exposed in the soft glare of the grow lights fixed to the metal rail overlooking the hydroponics garden. Her trepidation increased with her anticipation. Her usual steely resolve melted away like icicles on the last day of winter as she closed in on her target. She brought her stride to a halt and hovered beside the familiar woman who shot her a quick glance before returning her gaze to a field of roses.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” Zyra said, feeling an uncomfortable tightness in her throat as she studied the way the light caused the rose petals to glow.

“I wasn’t sure either.”

Mikaela’s words hung frostily in the air, causing goose bumps to form on Zyra’s skin. She tried to take Mikaela’s hand, but met air when Mikaela withdrew from her.

“I know you’re angry with me.”

Zyra noticed the soft lines in Mikaela’s face grow rigid.

“I trusted you, Zyra, and you betrayed me.”

Zyra ran a hand over her arm, trying to rub the tension from it. She knew if she were to look into a mirror, she would see a face reddened from grief staring back at her. “It was wrong of me to steal your information. I should never have done it.”

“But you did. Now look at what’s happened to us. Every cop in the world is looking for you. They took away my badge. Do you know how hard I worked for it?”

Zyra nearly choked on the breath that caught in her throat. The rift between them was so great she was sure a Galaxy class starship could fly between them.

“I wish I could make it up to you.”

“You can’t undo what you’ve done.”

Zyra lifted her stare from the flowers and looked at Mikaela. “Can you ever forgive me?”

“I’ve already forgiven you. But I don’t know if this is something we can get over.”

Mikaela’s words cut her deeply, making her wince. There was nothing Zyra could say to appease Mikaela. Only time could heal their wounds, but there was still some unfinished business to attend to.

“I have to find Skringler. It’s the only way to make things right.”

Mikaela raised her head and gave her a curious look. “No one’s seen Skringler since the escape. How do you hope to find him?”

“I know where he’s hiding.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. It’s why I wanted to meet you. To let you know there was a way to put this all to rest.”

“He’ll kill you before he ever lets you take him alive.”

“Maybe not. I have something he needs.”

“What?”

“The keys.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

“My ships are in position, Queen Karah,” Admiral Gur Sarak said, his scaly, silver-green eyes looking like miniature comets in the glare of the main viewscreen. Karah could see the weight of the universe concealed within them. She wondered how many lifetimes Sarak had lived, having come from a race of beings that telepathically implanted their young with the consciousness of their forebears upon their death. “Although he hasn’t responded to my messages, Commander Sheehan appears to be a cool customer. He knows between your forces and mine, we have him outgunned three-to-one.”

“Excellent. Perhaps there won’t be any need for bloodshed. If the Alliance Commander is wise, he will order his ships to turn around and retreat to the far side of the sector.”

“One can only hope, but our torpedo bays will remain open just in case.”

“Keep me apprised of the situation, Admiral. I would like to know when Sheehan answers your transmission.”

“I will do that. Admiral Sarak out.”

The screen displaying Sarak’s image faded, leaving behind only the fierce glower of Captain Edna Ajala of the Planetary Defense Force. Karah saw the line that drew across Ajala’s brow and braced herself for one of her tantrums.

“Isn’t this dangerous, Your Majesty? Having so many ships in such close proximity? If anyone so much as sneezes—”

“It is dangerous,” Karah said, cutting her off. “But I am counting on the discretion of the Alliance commander to keep the situation from getting out of hand.”

The lines in Ajala’s brown face grew harsh. “Permission to speak freely, Your Majesty.”

Old habits were difficult for most people to break, but Ajala had made challenging Karah into an art form. She would have thought the woman would have learned her lesson by now. The days of butting heads over battle strategy were long behind them.

“Speak.”

Karah put as much bass into her voice as she could, but Ajala didn’t look concerned.

“Are you sure this is wise? Secretly joining the Legion of Worlds?”

“It was not an easy decision. I lost many nights of sleep over it. But in the end I chose to side with those who would allow us to remain free.”

It was indeed a risky move, but one Karah had planned for months. Thanks to her spies on Earth-III, she had been forewarned that the InterGalactic Alliance would attempt an invasion of her world. When the Alliance failed to send an envoy to request extradition of Boris Skringler after she used him as bait, she knew the time for the invasion was upon her. Regardless of what Captain Ajala thought, she was certain she had done the right thing.

“How do we know we are free? What stops the Legion from telling us what to do? What makes them any different than the Alliance?”

Ajala flicked her long black braids over her shoulder and gazed away from the screen as if she were speaking to a commoner rather than the newly ordained ruler of New Venus.

Karah ignored the insult. “I ask myself the same question. The answer is, so long as no man ever sets foot on our soil, we still control our destiny.”

Ajala’s dark eyes met Karah’s gaze again. She could see the contempt behind them—as well as envy. Karah would forever bear the other woman’s scorn. She had earned her undying hatred when the people chose her over Ajala as their queen.

“Forgive me for saying this, Your Majesty...”

The way Ajala slurred the words as she addressed her made Karah’s blood boil. When this battle was over, she would have to put Ajala in her place.

“We don’t know where Boris Skringler is hiding. Every day he walks free, our people are in danger.”

Karah noticed Commander Killian staring at her. She turned her head to see a few other officers in Command and Control eyeballing her also. They were all afraid. She could see it in their eyes. She returned her gaze to the holoscreen and chose her words carefully. “I cannot inform Sheehan that I have lost Skringler. If word ever got out about his escape, our world would burn from the fires of the Alliance’s wrath.”

“Why so much fuss over a criminal?”

“Sheehan wasn’t sent here to negotiate the transfer of criminals. He came to invade us.”

Ajala’s hands dropped to her side. If there had been even a hint of respect in her voice, it was gone now. “Then why hasn’t he attacked us already?”

Karah had had enough of Ajala. Her world was about to be invaded and arguing with the captain of her fleet wasn’t going to resolve their situation.

“Because of the political ramifications, Captain!” Her voice boomed throughout the room, causing the officers to remove their eyes from their consoles and fix them on her. “Thousands of dissident planets are on the verge of leaving the Alliance. If they find out that the Alliance has attacked a sovereign world in the name of conquest, it will shatter its image of being a benign government and many of its member worlds will flee into the waiting arms of the Legion.”

The lines in Ajala’s face eased. She, too, must have realized that this wasn’t the time or place to have this conversation. But as expected, she tried to save face by having the last word.

“So if all you say is true, Your Majesty, what will happen if Sheehan learns that you don’t have Skringler?”

“Then we will all come to regret the day Skringler arrived on our world.”

Captain Ajala didn’t bother to give her the respectful parting she deserved, but merely turned away from the screen. Her image hadn’t completely faded from the main viewscreen when Commander Killian turned to face Karah.

“Your Majesty, something’s wrong,” she said while shifting her headset closer to her ears. “A sun flare has disrupted the jammers on the Alliance ships. We’ve detected a strange energy signature on board their command vessels.”

“What kind of energy signature?”

Killian jabbed at the instrument console and shook her head in confusion.

“We can’t identify it. It may just be a power surge, but I think they are getting ready to attack!”

Karah’s greatest fears had been realized. The Alliance had equipped their ships with some kind of new weapon and was about to open fire on her defense force. She could not allow her ships to be sitting ducks. She leaned forward and drove her knuckles into the command center computer console. “Tell our ships to open fire at once!”

***

Commander Sheehan smashed an angry fist on the communications console. “Why didn’t I see this coming?”

“You cannot blame yourself, sir,” Ensign Voors replied. “How could anyone know the Venusians had joined the Legion? If you ask me, Commander, Intel should have done a better job infiltrating the queen’s inner circle.”

Perhaps, Sheehan thought. But he should have prepared for all contingencies, including this sleight of hand. In hindsight, it was obvious that the queen had had only two options: to join the InterGalactic Alliance or ally herself with the Legion of Worlds. She had decided to do the latter. “Have you sent a transmission to Mission Command? They will need to know about the queen’s treachery.”

“I have, sir. Pardon me for saying it. But why are we sitting here? I don’t think HC sent an entire fleet of our most powerful ships just to bring back two criminals who are already scheduled to be terminated.”

Voors was correct. Sheehan, too, doubted the significance of the proposed mission. Wars had been started over minor incidents such as political assassinations. He couldn’t shake the feeling that his superiors wanted him to take a more aggressive stance against the Venusians. But he had his orders.

“We have our orders, Ensign. Until informed otherwise, we will follow them to the letter.”

“Sir, SpaceComm is scanning our ship!”

Sheehan’s brows formed a long V as he took several long strides over to Voors’ station.

“I thought I ordered you to increase power to the magnetic field disrupters.” His voice boomed with anger, making Voors stutter.

“I-I did, sir. But disrupters are malfunctioning due to a solar flare.”

Wrinkles stretched across Sheehan’s brow. Solar flares always posed a threat to a ship’s electronics. But the shields should have warded off any troublesome radiation. That is, unless, some unstable energy source was interfering with the electromagnetic field bombarding the shields.

Sheehan suddenly paled.

“Dammit. If they can scan us, they will discover our cargo!”

Sheehan was about to let out another swear when Voors splayed his fingers on the console and hunched over his screen.

“What is it, Ensign?”

“Sir, the Venusians are advancing toward us.”

“How many squadrons?”

Ensign Voors blanched. This was not the time for Voors to loose his cool. Sheehan grabbed his shoulder and squeezed.

“I asked you how many squads, Ensign!”

“A-all of them, sir!”

“Damn that treacherous queen! Order all ships to lock on targets and enter firing solutions now!”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Zyra walked into the cockpit of the Helship-II, her eyes burning a fierce blue in the darkness. Lights from the ship’s pneumatic processors blinked around her. The soft drone of the ship’s temperature regulator hummed in the background while the ventilation ducts hissed. Her eyes turned to slits when the pilot’s chair spun around to give her a full view of its occupant.

“Took you long enough to get here. Was starting to think you got cold feet,” the man Zyra knew as Boris Skringler said, the upholstered leather chair creaking as he leaned back to return her glare.

“Would’ve gotten here sooner, but I was tied up.”

Skringler grinned crookedly, stiffening the hair on the back of Zyra’s neck.

“No hard feelings, eh? Didn’t have much choice back there. Once security was breathin’ down our necks, I had to find a way to shake ’em. They’d have bull’s-eyed me if they got the chance. You, on the other hand...”

“You really have some nerve. Leaving me for the guards and trying to steal my ship.”

“Correction. Stealing your ship. Not trying.”

“Fat chance. You don’t have the passcode to start the engines.”

“That’s why you’re gonna pony up and give it to me,” Skringler said, winking at Zyra.

“Not in this lifetime.”

Skringler leapt up from the chair, but the cold barrel of Zyra’s pistol pressing into his forehead kept him from drawing any closer.

“Still fast on the draw. Glad to see you haven’t lost your touch. Not that you’re actually gonna pull the trigger.”

“Don’t test me.” Zyra grabbed her weapon with two hands and shoved it harder into his head. Skringler grinned and dragged his eyes over Zyra’s form. Her mouth twisted into a scowl. “You really want to die, don’t you?”

Skringler’s grin grew larger.

“You’re not goin’ to kill me. We’ve got too much history, you and me.”

“Funny. I can’t think of anything worth remembering.”

“Really?”

Skringler reached up and grabbed the pistol. He tugged at the weapon, lowering it from his face. Zyra’s hands shook as Skringler overpowered her and wrenched the gun out of her hand. Before she could react, he slammed her against the wall and locked her right arm behind her back. She gasped and twisted to keep her arm from snapping.

“Your bark was always worse than your bite. But that’s what I like about you.”

Zyra tried to twist free of Skringler’s grip, but he trapped her in his arms and placed his mouth over hers, locking his lips to hers.

“So...you don’t remember that?” he asked.

“Bastard,” she said, her voice shuddering as she tried to catch her breath.

“I am that.”

He squeezed her tightly, forcing the air out of her lungs and kissed her again. At first she resisted, but the heat flooding her stomach worked its way to her lips as she felt his tongue push its way into her mouth. Skringler did not break the kiss until she wilted in his embrace. His hot breath made her flush as he gave her a hungry look.

“Tasty.”

He gave her another peck. The heat of his mouth lingered on her lips.

“I can’t let you leave, Bor,” Zyra said, her voice soft and trembling. She felt hot, her skin tingling at Skringler’s touch. His kisses did something to her she had not expected. The strength of his powerful embrace woke something deep inside her, something she thought she had long forgotten.

“All you have to do is give me the passcode and we'll both split this rock.” Skringler replied, his dark eyes melting her resolve.

Zyra studied his mouth, longing to taste it again. But she knew she had not come here for this. “I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“You know why.”

Skringler frowned and leaned in closer to her.

“Maybe you’re making too much of that little incident at Siliros.”

“Killing 300 people isn’t a little incident.”

Zyra let out a squeak when Skringler squeezed her, threatening to crush her in his powerful arms. Her attempts to draw breath left her gasping.

“Since when did you become a saint?”

“I’m not,” she said, frustrated by her inability to free her pinned arms from her side. “But you can’t expect me to look the other way after what you’ve done.”

Skringler’s eyes narrowed, the lust within them giving way to anger.

“That’s exactly what you’re gonna do. Look the other way.”

“I don’t think so.”

“It’s me you’re talking to, remember? You don’t have to pretend you give a shit about these people.”

“I’m not like you.”

“Hell you ain’t. Your kill sheet is twice as long as mine.”

“Maybe. But I don’t slaughter innocents.”

Skringler turned a deep scarlet, fuming.

“Is that what this is about? Satisfyin’ some self-righteous gene you got buried in you?”

If Skringler thought insulting Zyra would make her surrender the code, he was wrong.

“I’m a hunter. Just like you used to be. No more. No less.”

“I’m still a hunter, ’cept I don’t pretend there’s a line I’m not supposed to cross when I got someone in my sights. Ain’t no line for a killer. Not for people like us.”

“You’re insane.”

“I’m what the ’verse made me. Now give me that passcode.”

“No.”

“You’re giving me that code, one way or another.”

“Never.”

Skringler stared hard at Zyra, eyes blazing with anger. She could only imagine what thoughts were going through his mind. But to her surprise, he released her. Relief washed over her face as air rushed back into her aching lungs. Skringler shifted his foot as if he was going to walk away, then turned back around and smashed his right fist across Zyra’s face. She collapsed to the floor. Her chest heaved as she tried to push herself up from the floor. He kicked her in the stomach, making her double up. Skringler squatted, stitched his fingers together, and watched with his head cocked to the side as Zyra coughed up spittle while squeezing her belly, guarding her torso from any further attacks. His lopsided grin enlarged.

“That’s why things didn’t work out for us, Zanr. You always have to do things the hard way. A guy can only put up with so much resistance before it makes him snap. Now be a good girl and give me that code. Or,” he said before extending an arm and whacking her hard on the backside, “I’m gonna show you my bad side.”

Zyra’s silence erased the grin from Skringler’s face. He grabbed her arms and rolled her onto her back so he could pin her down by the wrists. Her eyes became dark blue slits as she gazed angrily up at him. She scowled at Skringler’s hot breath warming her face.

“Now that’s how I remember it used to be, you on your back and me...well, I think you get the picture. Now what’s the code?”

Zyra still didn’t answer. Skringler rolled her over on to her stomach and dropped his weight on her to keep her down. He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her head back, making her gasp. “I’m not gonna ask again.”

When Zyra failed to respond, he reached for the sheath on his belt. A moment later he was brandishing an electro-knife and had forced it under her throat. She squinted at the bright glow of the weapon, as her skin warmed and tingled from the electric arcs running along the length of the blade. Zyra knew the damage such a weapon could cause. Electro-knives were fearsome weapons. With barely any force, they could cut deeply into a person’s body, severing flesh and muscle and exposing organs. With deft application, they could sear the flesh of a victim by making small cuts. Because the blade cauterized flesh on contact, blood would congeal just beneath the skin, allowing the knife wielder to make subsequent cuts without causing an extreme loss of blood. The victim would be sliced open only to have the wound burned and sealed with his or her own blood. Unless a vital organ or artery was severed, the victim could survive numerous similar wounds for days. The “Cut and Burn” technique, as it was infamously called, was one of the most dreaded forms of torture and a favorite of criminals everywhere. For this reason, every civilized planet had outlawed electro-knives. Zyra didn’t know how or where Skringler had found the weapon, but she knew she would suffer if it were used against her.

When his weapon failed to draw the proper reaction from her, he raked the blade across her skin. Searing heat burned the flesh under her throat just as blood pooled to the surface and dried into a sticky redness. Zyra let out a horrible cry.

“You do that again and I’ll blow you to kingdom come!”

Skringler froze at the sound of the other woman’s voice. His grin was absent as he glared at Zyra.

“Brought along company, did we? Smart girl.”

“Get off of her!”

Zyra watched Skringler glance over his shoulder to see Mikaela standing behind him with a black laser rifle fixed on his form. He turned back around at her to show her a sneer.

“We ain’t even close to being finished, you and me.”

“I said get off!”

Zyra’s face darkened as Skringler’s glare lingered on her before he rolled off of her. He propped himself up onto his knees and raised his hands into the air. Mikaela kept her gun leveled on him as she snatched the electro-knife out of his hand. Zyra winced at the pain shooting through the left side of her face as she forced herself up from the floor and placed a hand to the black gash on her neck. Blood rushing to her head made her dizzy when she grabbed her pistol. She flushed dark red when her fingers locked around its grip. She marched back over to Skringler and shoved her gun to his head.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you now and save everyone the trouble later.”

Her voice was hardly more than a hoarse whisper. It took everything she had to keep from finishing Skringler off right then and there.

“’Cause I’m your only ticket off this rock.”

Zyra’s finger shook on the trigger as she nearly went mad from the blood pounding in her ears.

“You see? That’s why we don’t allow their kind on our world. They’re animals. All of them!”

Mikaela’s rant fed Zyra’s fury. She felt her gun tremble in her hands and tightened her grip to keep from firing it.

“She’s right, Zanr. I am an animal.”

The smug look on Skringler’s face pushed her to the edge. Everything inside her told her to pull the trigger, warning her that she would regret not giving into her rage. She wanted to satisfy her bloodlust, but there was a small corner in her mind that reined her in, a tiny whispering voice that reminded her what was at stake. She had not come to this world to commit murder. Her finger softened on the trigger.

“Only reason you’re still breathing, you piece of garbage, is because I need you alive. Minute that stops, I’m pumping every round from this gun inside you. Now get up!”

Without saying a word, Zyra could see the glee in Skringler’s eyes. Even though he was now her prisoner, she had once again failed to end his life. Her stomach boiled at the thought of him going off to be kept under guard where he could continue to mock the people who had suffered at his hands. But she knew letting him live was the right thing to do. More than just her pride was at stake and for that reason only Skringler would claim his small victory. She took a step backwards to let him find his feet and repositioned the barrel of her gun to the back of his head. She scowled when Skringler threw a wink at Mikaela.

“Don’t mind us. Just a lover’s spat,” he said.

“Shut it!” Zyra said, still glaring at him. Despite the pair of guns trained on Skringler, he would not make his capture go smoothly. He would use any opportunity to escape. Zyra would not risk losing him again, so she decided to take an extra precaution. She turned, marched over to the instrument console on the starboard side of the cockpit, and jabbed at a color-coded keypad on the wall, entering a numerical sequence to unlock a hidden compartment door concealed in the bulkhead above her head. When the door slid open to reveal a cache of weapons, she retrieved from it a RISK blade generator patch and pressed it to the back of her left hand. The patch bonded to her skin where it remained in case she needed to use it. A moment later, she was back at Skringler’s side, her laser pistol finding the back of his head again.

“Now move!” she said and shoved him forward with an open palm to his back. He marched past Mikaela as she raised her rifle to his face and ducked to pass through the door leading from the cockpit with Zyra trailing closely behind him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“Green and Yellow Squadrons are getting pounded, Captain! What are your orders?” a voice screeched over the intercom. Captain Ajala furrowed her dark brow and glanced at the screen to check on the pilot’s vitals. Her heart rate was elevated beyond normal levels. Not surprising considering all the mayhem. She needed to bring some order to a situation that was quickly getting out of control.

“Commander, take the rest of Red Squadron and form up on Black Squadron’s six. Keep those command ships on their side of space. Something tells me they have something up their sleeve. Until we know what it is, I don’t want them breaking through our lines.”

“Copy.”

Ajala shifted her gaze to track the triangle shaped blips converging on the block of squares on her secondary viewscreen. She was not happy with what she saw.

“White, Gold, Blue, and Purple Squadrons, keep those fighters busy so Black and Red Squadrons can hammer those cruisers.”

“Affirmative, Captain,” another distorted voice said through the intercom. Captain Ajala’s sharp brown eyes peered into the main viewscreen where a green-skinned humanoid stared back at her from under joined eyebrows.

“Admiral Sarak,” she began, ignoring the twitching tentacles in the Admiral’s face. “Have your cruisers form a barrier against those Hammerheads. They’re tearing my fighters to pieces. Your wave battery cannons should be more than enough to make them think twice before attempting to approach orbit.”

“Don’t worry, Captain. We’ll have that rabble racing for the nearest jump gate in no time.”

She gave Sarak a nod and was in the process of folding her hands behind her back when she noticed the flashing yellow button on the control console. She jabbed a finger at the button and kept her gaze fixed on the unfolding battle.

“Do you have an update, Captain?” Queen Karah’s voice asked through the intercom. Ajala winced at the bright orange blooms that lit up her viewscreen. The shrieks of the unfortunate fighter pilots caught in the path of a devastating photon beam filled the air.

“We’ve sustained a few casualties, but the Alliance seems to be taking the worst of it. I still don’t understand why those command ships aren’t engaging in the fight. They’ve got enough firepower to decimate our frontlines, yet they seem content to let their fighters take the brunt of the punishment. A feint, perhaps?”

The queen’s voice was barely audible through the pops and crackles of the transmission.

“It could be a trick to lure our ships away from the planet. I don’t want us to get caught in their web, so keep our force as close to orbit as possible.”

“Are you sure? Those command ships will be sitting ducks once Sarak engages them.”

“Let’s not overplay our hand. Our primary goal is to keep those ships away from the planet. We’ll let Sarak draw the enemy out.”

“Sarak’s ships are powerful, I’ll grant him that. But he won’t be able to get out of the line of fire if things turn ugly.”

“We’ll have to risk it. If the Alliance wants to invade our world, they will have to land their ground troops. They can’t do that unless they break through your perimeter.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty. We’ll keep our backs to you so they can’t get behind us. Over and out.”

***

Karah’s eyes turned to slits as she switched off the intercom to watch the frenzy of battle on the holographic display undisturbed. Regardless of how much she despised Captain Ajala, she could not deny that she was a brilliant naval tactician. Ajala’s decision to spread out the planetary defense force across the battlefield in loose formations reduced their collective firepower, but it must have had the Alliance commanders tearing the hair out of their heads trying to keep track of them, let alone guess where the next attack would come from. No sooner had the Alliance ships engaged her forces than they would break away, allowing another group of fighters to swoop down on them with deadly results. This strategy kept the enemy on the defensive, but more importantly opened up the lanes needed to attack the aloof battle cruisers guarding the command ship where Commander Sheehan conducted the invasion.

Flak from the cruisers’ cannons peppered the air when Black Squadron strafed them from above. Brilliant spikes of orange and gold filled the screen like polka dots as they slammed the cruisers’ shields with their charge cannons and nova bombs. The sleek white shapes of Alliance fighters launching from the command ship expanded into yellow balls of gas when Red Squadron plunged behind Black Squadron with their laser cannons blazing away. Pride welled up in Karah as she watched her fighters swarm about the large cruisers like a hive of angry bees molesting a bear. Her pilots were among the greatest in the galaxy. To engage in battle with them was almost certain death. A fact the Alliance fighter pilots learned firsthand.

The seemingly haphazard flight patterns of her ships left Karah moving her head from one side of the screen to the other. Everywhere she looked there was a flash of pale orange where her ships were wreaking havoc amongst the enemy lines. Ajala’s tactic was working to perfection. It didn’t seem they needed to concentrate their firepower after all. With Sarak assisting her planetary defense force with his destroyer’s powerful wave battery cannons, they didn’t want for firepower anyway.

She blinked her eyes at the brilliant flash of one of the Alliance frigates exploding. She could hear the loud cheers and whoops that came through the intercom from the pilots who had destroyed it. So far things were going their way. But she couldn’t escape the feeling that the Alliance was holding back. What were they up to?

***

The Gorza soared across the vast lane of black space between a pair of friendly Giga ships, barely evading the deadly wave beams that streaked past its hull. V-shaped stabilizer fins arrayed along its exterior gave it the look of a spiny, deep sea predator, not surprising considering its alien design. Its photon cannons let loose a barrage of glowing white orbs that smashed into the stern of the oncoming Alliance destroyer war cruiser Helios. The Helios’s shields rippled as they failed to deflect the direct hit. Brilliant tracers from the drone-operated Giga ships’ electron cannons joined in the fracas to overwhelm the battered Alliance cruiser. The merciless bombardment continued until the forward section of the Helios peeled away from the rest of the ship in a cascade of twisted metal and flame.

At the sight of the wounded ship, the Legion fleet intensified its attack. The modified accelerator engines of the bird-shaped Hauk fighters propelled them past the Gorza to engage the sleek silver Alliance fighters that raced toward it. Green tracers crossed the path of red tracers, zipping through the dense blackness. Yellow balls of gas bloomed wherever a fighter was struck by flak. Ion cannons on the Alliance ships boomed, causing mayhem among the small fighters. Their engines screamed as they spun wildly to evade incoming fire.

More Alliance cruisers sped toward the Gorza to give battle to its crew. The Legion flagship was more than capable of taking them on and unloaded its full arsenal on the approaching vessels, scattering them with its main Proton cannon at the nose of the ship. The field of space was dotted with explosions as the battle raged on.

***

“Sir, the Helios has taken a direct hit through its shields. Navigational systems are down and the reactor core is melting. Captain Morrison has ordered an emergency evacuation of his ship. But I don’t think they’ll get to the escape pods before—”

Voors never finished speaking. Commander Sheehan’s eyes darkened as he watched the plumage of fire that wrapped itself around the large cruiser on his viewscreen. Miniscule shapes floated from the gaping arch in the ship’s starboard side, each one a dead soldier who would never know if his or her ultimate sacrifice would help to win the day’s battle. Sections of metal siding scattered in the dense blackness like flotsam drifting away on a tide. More lives would be lost before the conflict came to an end.

So the play continues into the final act.

Sheehan had expected stiff resistance from the Venusians. He had not, however, anticipated losing any of his command ships. Queen Karah may have drawn first blood. But she would pay a heavy price for her actions.

“Increase power to the forward shields and draw within range of the planet. It’s time to show the Venusians our brand-new set of teeth.”

The air was sucked right out of the bridge. Sheehan turned his head to see the eyes of his flight crew centered on him. With the exception of Voors, this was a veteran crew. Yet, they all shared the look of a deer in headlights.

“A-are you sure, sir?”

“You have your orders, Ensign!”

Voors blanched under Sheehan’s glower, his inexperience whittling away at his nerves. War was hell. The sooner Voors got used to it, the more effective he would be to his crew. Sheehan clenched his jaw as the young officer resigned himself to carrying out his orders and twisted back in his seat to input the desired navigational commands into the ship’s computer.

***

“Look, Your Majesty!”

The tremor in Commander Killian’s off-kilter voice caught Karah off-guard. She looked up from the damage report list to see the Alliance Command ship Kraken lumbering across a field of stars and directly into the fray of battling ships. The screen flashed from the artillery shell it took. The other cruisers that had also been sitting out the fight fell into formation beside the Kraken and unloaded their weapons.

She brought up a secondary screen on the instrument panel and watched the scrawl of trajectory lines glowing on the screen. Her stomach sank. She spun her gaze back to Killian.

“They’re approaching the planet. Commander, tell Ajala to stop those cruisers at all costs. I don’t care how many ships we have to lose. Do not let those cruisers get past our perimeter!”

***

The Kraken plowed through the wreckage of one of the destroyed Legion cruisers, shaking off twisted strips of metal like a dog flicking fleas from its fur. Furious bolts of ruby light from enemy fighters pummeled the rippling shields on the massive Alliance destroyer ship. The thunderous boom of wave battery cannons along its hull dealt death to the swarm of fighters that harassed it, dotting space with a flourish of pale orange flares.

As the battle raged, haphazard patterns of multicolored beams blazed a path of destruction on both sides. The Alliance cruisers drifted closer to the Kraken to draw some of the enemy fire. Nova bombs from the speedy Venusian fighters left their shields covered in explosions. Retaliatory blasts from the cruiser cannons pierced shields and tore through metal, taking the lives of the pilots who fought tooth and nail to slow the advance of the Kraken and its deadly escorts. One of the Alliance cruisers flared when artillery shells from the Gorza breached its shields. It lurched sideways, but continued to take fire from the fighters buzzing around it.

***

Commander Sheehan’s eyes focused with deadly concentration as the Legion flagship Gorza moved to intercept his forces on the viewscreen. Though the Kraken was safely out of range, the Gorza’s powerful proton cannons were wreaking havoc on the fighters that tried to clear a path for his fleet. What the Venusians lacked in firepower, they made up for in sheer number. However, the inclusion of the Legion ships in the battle put his forces at an extreme disadvantage. A prolonged conflict would be disastrous. The only chance he had to claim victory was to end the battle quickly, thus his decision to break through enemy lines with a single, all-out assault. Judging by the reckless manner in which the enemy engaged his ships, he could tell they were desperate to keep his forces from coming within firing range of their planet. They were wise to do so.

“Sir, the Venusian forces are converging on us. We won’t be able to break through their defensive perimeter with so many ships cluttering our flight path.”

The lines in Sheehan’s face grew more pronounced. Time was not on his side. Every moment that passed would cost him another ship. But he had no intention of skirting around the enemy ships only to delay the inevitable whittling of his forces. His plan to confront the enemy head-on would result in heavy casualties, but it would give him a clear shot at the enemy world. And one shot was all he needed.

“Give me ramming speed!” Sheehan ordered. He could see the faces of his flight officers blanch at his command, but they knew better than to question his orders. He turned to send a threatening glare to Ensign Voors and watched him increase power to the ship’s thrusters.

He looked back to the viewscreen to see one of a pair of Venusian frigates growing larger on his screen. Both were unleashing their full arsenal at his ship. When the enemy commanders realized that he was not going to alter the flight path of his ship they veered away. Only one of them managed to avoid being struck. Sheehan’s legs buckled under him as sparks flew from the overhead console. The lights in the bridge flickered off while the main viewscreen went snowy. He propped himself back up on his feet and looked around to see several of his flight officers lying unconscious or dead on the floor.

“Restore visuals immediately!”

One of the officers sitting at a blackened computer station yelled out an “Aye, sir!”

Sheehan fixed his gaze on the main viewscreen, impatiently waiting for an image to appear. After what seemed an eternity, the familiar blackness of space returned. Along with it, a clear view of the crimson world he was about to conquer.

“Sir, we’re within firing range of New Venus!” Voors said.

Sheehan’s lips curled into a sneer as he lowered his eyebrows. “Open fire on the planet surface and let loose the dogs of war!”

***

Long cannons telescoped from hidden compartments in the bow of the Kraken. Similar actions occurred on the other Alliance cruisers as they soared past the wreckages of destroyed Venusian ships. The wide rim of the world lay bare before their exposed cannons. Time seemed to be at a standstill as if the universe had held its breath, waiting for a pulse or even a lonely heartbeat.

Waiting...waiting...

And then, it waited no more.

A pale glimmer encircled the tips of the cannons, then—a flash of blue-white light, brighter than the glare of the brightest star, burst from the cannons, streaked across orbit, and pierced the misty gray atmosphere of the planet.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

All was quiet—too quiet for Zyra.

The soft hum in the air from the turbo-lift motor did nothing to calm her nerves. She looked over to Mikaela who was standing beside her, studying the harsh look on her face. It killed her to know that she had betrayed the one person in the universe who should never have had anything to fear from her. In her haste to free Skringler, she had, perhaps, irreparably damaged their relationship. She didn’t think she could get used to Mikaela being so detached around her.

Mikaela noticed Zyra watching her and turned to meet her stare. In response, Zyra dropped her gaze. She was so ashamed of what she had done. Just a single glance at Mikaela made her eyes threaten to tear up.

Zyra tensed. She was caught by surprise when Mikaela took her free hand and squeezed it. Zyra stood quietly, watching the tender way Mikaela massaged the top of her hand with her thumb, sharing her warmth. She hadn’t noticed how cold she was until now.

Zyra raised her gaze. The rigid look on Mikaela’s face had faded and been replaced with a tender one. The expression was genuine—glowing with the same affection that she was used to seeing from Mikaela. She allowed herself to hope. Maybe there was still a chance for them. When this was all over, she would make amends with Mikaela.

Zyra allowed a smile to blossom on her face. For a brief moment, it seemed as though they were the only ones in the lift. She ached to be with Mikaela again. She wanted nothing more than to pick up from where they had left off before she foolishly went running off after Skringler. She thought of leaning over to give Mikaela a kiss when she noticed Skringler looking over his shoulder and staring at her and Mikaela’s laced fingers. Although Skringler tried to hide it, she could see anger broiling behind his eyes. Zyra realized this was not the time or place to allow herself to become distracted. She released Mikaela’s grip and clutched her pistol with both hands. All she wanted now was a reason to use it. She matched Skringler’s glower, silently letting him know that nothing had changed between them.

One wrong move and he was dead.

The floor shook softly when the lift came to a sudden stop. Zyra kept her gaze fixed on the back of Skringler’s head as Mikaela led the way out of the lift. She took up position behind Skringler. The trio walked down a short corridor, ignoring the glare from the lights on the ceiling as they descended the metal stairs that led into the shipyard. With all the commotion of the Alliance entering Venusian space, martial law had been imposed on the citizenry. Only security detail was allowed to move freely about the city. She had to avoid them at all costs until she could get Skringler to Mikaela’s apartment. There, they would contact the authorities so that Skringler could be transferred to them.

The Venusians were in grave danger. Zyra knew they would not be able to fend off the Alliance attack. Without Skringler to use as a bargaining chip, the situation would grow worse. She would hate to see the Venusians slaughtered over a man who had proved himself to be a despicable figure. Ruggedly handsome looks aside, she didn’t know what she had ever seen in Skringler. Her naïveté had gotten the best of her. She swore never to let her guard down around him again.

Zyra maintained her measured pace as she pushed through the corridor. The sparse lighting of the underground passage diminished the visibility of her surroundings. But there was more than enough light to give her a clear view of Skringler’s hands folded behind his head. One sudden twitch by Skringler and she would follow through on her earlier threat to kill him. Part of her wished he would test her, just so she could have a reason to use him for target practice.

They had just reached the bottom of the stairs when she heard a distant boom. The floor rumbled, sending her smashing into the wall right before the lights in the stairwell went out. Sparks flew from the exploding lights as a metal beam from the ceiling struck her and knocked her down the last step.

Zyra moaned, knowing she was lucky that she hadn’t blacked out. She lifted her gaze up from the floor and could hear figures struggling in the darkness ahead.

“Mika?”

A flash of red exploded from Mikaela’s weapon before the other woman let out a shriek. Zyra aimed her pistol in the direction of the muzzle flash and fired off several rounds. She stood up panting and kept firing until the scarlet glow from emergency lights washed over her. She saw Mikaela doubled up on the floor a few meters away from where she was standing.

No!

Zyra took a wide step toward Mikaela and dropped to the floor beside her.

“Mika!”

Zyra rolled Mikaela’s limp form over and looked past her blackened shirt to see the large hole in her stomach. The cauterized flesh around the wound was still hot and giving off smoke.

“You’re hurt.”

Mikaela shuddered. Her face was a contorted mask etched with suffering. Her chest heaved as she struggled to draw breath. Somehow she found the strength to push enough air from her lungs to speak.

“Go...”

“What?”

“Y-you have to go after him.”

Zyra glanced at the gaping wound in Mikaela’s stomach. She dreaded to think how deep it went. If a vital organ had been struck...

“I can’t leave you.”

“You have to.”

“No,” Zyra said, shaking her head.

Mikaela grabbed Zyra’s arm and squeezed it. “We’re all going to die if you don’t get Skringler.”

“I don’t care about Skringler. I care about you.” Zyra trembled at the tears that began to flow down Mikaela’s face. Her chest thumped with pain. The thought of losing Mikaela was too much to bear.

“Forget about me, Zyra. My people are going to be butchered unless that man is captured.”

Zyra’s head dropped as the full weight of Mikaela’s words threatened to crush her. If she pursued Skringler now, Mikaela would be left to die alone in this dark, lonely place. She wouldn’t wish that fate on her worst enemy. Zyra felt a swell of tears in her eyes.

Mikaela touched Zyra’s face softly, drawing her out of the depths of her terror. “Don’t let him win.”

Zyra looked into Mikaela’s eyes, beyond her fear and anguish to see her determination. Mikaela had not given up on her. She trusted her to fulfill her promise to make things right. Zyra glanced up toward the hole in the ceiling, unable to see past the thick smoke and flame that belched forth from it. There was only one thing that could have caused the explosion in the stairwell. Artillery from ships in orbit: Alliance ships.

She gnashed her teeth. Zyra hated the thought of leaving Mikaela. But she was the one who had allowed this to happen and she would have to be the one to end it as well.

She squeezed Mikaela’s hand. “Hold on, Mika. I’ll be back for you. Just stay alive.”

Mikaela’s mouth moved as if she was attempting to speak, but the effort was too much for her and she suddenly went limp. Zyra held Mikaela and pulled her close in a fitful embrace. She hated the universe for making her do this.

With gnashed teeth, Zyra gently lay Mikaela down to rest. Her stare lingered on Mikaela while she watched her take labored breaths.

I’ll make him pay for what he’s done to you. Zyra’s jaw clenched tighter. No, to us.

As if released from a slingshot, Zyra finally leapt up from the floor and bolted down the dark hallway. Skringler was going to pay with his life for all the pain and suffering he caused and Zyra would destroy anyone who got in her way.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

“Sarak. Come in, Sarak!”

Captain Ajala held her breath, her eyes fixed on the dark screen before her. Her mouth was a straight line, masking the worry that made her heart pound inside her chest. She clenched her jaw, feeling tension pull at the muscles in the small of her back. However virtuous a trait, patience was not her strong suit, especially when lives hung in the balance.

Several failed attempts to establish communications with Admiral Sarak had left her vexed and agitated. A temporary loss of power caused by damage to her ship’s power core had left her blind to the goings-on of the battlefield. Not knowing when power would be restored to her surveillance system, she needed another pair of eyes. If only Sarak would reply.

Ajala balled her hands into fists, driving her nails into her palms. Her nostrils flared from the reek of burnt circuitry. Her anxiety was getting the best of her; every passing second in which she was unable to establish contact with the Ryssk Admiral seemed like an eternity.

Her pupils expanded and darkened against her growing restlessness. She didn’t know if she could suffer the wait any longer. Just when she thought she would snap, the screen before her came to life with a flicker of lines. She tilted her head slightly to keep her chin raised, attempting to regain some of her confidence as she looked into Admiral Sarak’s grim face. But black smoke choked the screen, obscuring his image.

“Sarak here,” he said, his voice bereft of its usual measured tone. Ajala noticed that he was not sitting in his captain’s chair, but rather standing at the ship’s helm with his eyes on the navigation console.

“What is your status, Admiral?”

“Took a volley from the command ship’s cannons in my aft quarters,” he said, finally setting his eyes on her. “Shields didn’t hold. Structural integrity has been compromised.”

“You must order an evacuation!”

“There is no one left to evacuate.”

The air was sucked out of Ajala’s lungs as dread tugged at the edges of her face.

“What about you? Can you reach an escape pod?”

Sarak assumed a weak, but solemn grin.

“Captain always goes down with his ship, remember?” Ajala lowered her gaze from the screen to keep him from seeing the fear in her eyes. It took a moment for her to stare at the screen again. “I’m sorry, Captain. You’re going to have to win this one without me. Admiral Sarak signing off for the final time.”

Ajala watched his image morph into a snowy screen. She tried to draw breath, but her lungs were stifled by the weight pressing against her chest.

“Captain! We’ve got visuals again,” one of her officers said. She turned her head sideways, but avoided looking into her subordinate’s eyes.

“Switch to external visual sensors.”

She grimaced at the crack in her voice, but pushed her awkward feelings aside to focus on the viewscreen. The Gorza sped past a line of enemy ships, heading straight for the Kraken. Her eyes widened. Sarak was going to ram his ship into the enemy commander’s vessel, striking a decisive blow for their side! But fate intervened with a swift, pitiless hand. Ajala watched with horror as Sarak’s ship burst into flames under a steady salvo of cannon fire. In a final heroic bow, the Gorza broke apart before it could deal death to the Alliance destroyer, scattering pieces of its metal corpse to the graveyard of ships around it. Ajala shut her eyes briefly before opening them again.

“Status report on the other Legion ships.”

“Negative, Captain. The entire Legion fleet is gone,” her lieutenant replied. Ajala dipped her head, surrendering to the inescapable dread that had been eating away at her.

So this is how it ends. More than ever, Ajala regretted her people’s decision not to make her queen. Had she been in control, this day might never have come. Instead, her people’s future hung on the edge of a knife that was wielded by a woman who was too blinded by her hatred of men to see clearly that the greatest threat they faced was not an external enemy, but one from within. The men who sought to subdue New Venus could have been pacified through skillful negotiation, but Karah wanted blood. Only now, it was Venusian blood that was being spilled.

Ajala knit her brows and set her solemn gaze on her flight navigator. “Helm, enter coordinates 377 by 20 by 60.”

“Captain, that will take us directly into the path of the Kraken’s forward cannons!”

Ajala didn’t reply right away. Instead, she let silence linger in the air, waiting just long enough for the weight of her command to sink in.

“I am aware of that, Lieutenant. Proceed as ordered.”

Ajala turned around and looked directly into the faces of her crewmembers. But instead of fear, she saw their courage. It was invigorating to be surrounded by such proud women, women who were willing to give their lives to protect their world. She took strength in their nobility and felt a surge of confidence. Death was going to come to them all. But she was going to see to it that the enemy died with them.

“For New Venus!” Ajala shouted while pumping her fist in the air.

Her words became the anthem of her crew as they repeated gloriously, “For New Venus!”

***

The Minerva, flagship of the New Venus Navy, soared across a sea of destruction, racing past the metal carcasses of destroyed ships toward a volley of scarlet beams that tore through its weakening shields. Its shields flickered and disintegrated as exploding nova bombs pounded it into submission. The ship groaned as more artillery rounds slammed into its exposed skin, tearing away hunks of steel from its hull.

Its guns remained cold and silent as it plunged toward the Kraken. The enemy’s cannons struck with all their ferocity, ravaging the Venusian vessel and warping its frame. Its superheated metal surface bubbled like boiling porridge under the relentless assault. The ship burned brightly against the darkness of space as it bore down on the lumbering Alliance destroyer. In an attempt to avoid the impending collision, the Kraken veered right. Sections of the Venusian ship began to peel away as structural integrity was lost. But before it could surrender to the gravitational forces tearing at its core, it plowed into the Kraken’s port side, setting the other ship in flames.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

A gust of cold air made Zyra’s skin crawl as she entered the shipyard across from the hangar where her ship was housed. The automated presses and mechanized assembly lines were still and lifeless. She observed the muddled gray and black silhouettes around her, searching through the erected columns of large metal scaffolding for any sign of Skringler. A dark mercury haze lay about the shipyard, further masking her surroundings. Her nose wrinkled from the pungent odor of liquefied metals as she walked past a pair of hydraulic forklifts that hung from a control tower.

Zyra was surrounded by darkness. But her confusion of unfolding events was even more frustrating. Shortly after escaping the prison where she had been awaiting execution, she had learned from Mikaela that the InterGalactic Alliance had sent a fleet of ships to attack New Venus if they didn’t transfer custody of herself and Skringler to them. Knowing the Venusians would refuse, and thereby prompt an attack from the Alliance, she had decided to take matters into her own hands. She had hoped to bring a swift resolution to the crisis by apprehending Skringler and returning him to Queen Karah. Whether Karah would grant her clemency for aiding the Venusians was another story.

But her plans were ruined now. Skringler had escaped once more, but not before leaving Mikaela with a parting shot to the stomach, and now she was bleeding to death alone in the ruins of a dark tunnel. Zyra held the Alliance equally responsible for Mikaela’s condition; she assumed their ships had fired their weapons at the planet. Though her knowledge of the kinds of weapons they used in orbital attacks was limited, she knew enough to guess the extent of the damage, and she knew that whatever weapons they had used to attack Venus City several thousand kilometers beneath the surface of the world would have to be devastating. She dreaded to think how many people had died in the opening attack. She hoped Mikaela would not be among them.

There was a loud clink and brilliant beams from light rigs on the roof pierced the darkness. The shipyard came to life in a riot of thumps, clicks, and rattles. A flash of hot air from a large turbine motor hoisted on a nearby support rig whipped her hair about like a golden banner on a flagpole during a windstorm. The spinning turbine began to emit fire from its exhaust, causing her to raise a hand to protect her face. Her skin grew hot and she increased her gait to keep from being burned alive. A quick descent down a flight of steps took her out of harm’s way.

Zyra rubbed her blistered arm and listened to the reverberating clink of metal on metal as hydraulic presses crushed blocks of steel into flat strips before unloading them onto chutes. She turned her head to see conveyer belts squeak to life. Skringler’s attempt to say hello failed to impress her. Acknowledging that he was somewhere watching her from the safety of the shadows ahead, she slipped her second pistol from its holster and notched her finger firmly against the trigger.

All I need is one shot and you’re history, Skringler.

The image of herself standing over his lifeless body had barely crystallized in her mind when it faded again. If she killed Skringler, everything would be lost. The Venusians would suffer as the Alliance continued to rain down death on their world. She owed it to Mikaela to keep her word and capture Skringler. But more importantly, she owed it to herself. For her future and the life she so desperately wanted for herself depended on bringing him back alive to the Venusians. It made her sick to think that she had to let Skringler live after what he had done to Mikaela. But she had no choice but to accept that her own fate was tied to his.

Zyra advanced down the aisle of towering metal gondolas, tortured by the thought of what Mikaela was going through alone. Zyra would have given anything to be at her side now rather than facing death hunting the barbaric man that had tried to take Mikaela away from her. She was about to curse her bad luck when a loud clang made her spin around. Just to her left, the large claw of a robotic arm swung toward her. She dove to the floor to avoid having her head knocked from her body. She had just risen to her feet when laser fire strafed the floor. She took off running for the safety of a half-assembled fuselage that stood at the end of the aisle. Her heart thumped in her chest as she dashed through open space, knowing a moment’s hesitation would cost her her life. When the fuselage was in reach, she dove to the floor. Her eardrums throbbed from the thunderous clap of incoming striking the fuselage behind her. The stench of burnt cloth rose from the hot sparks that burned tiny holes in her pants. More white sparks blossomed around her. She looked up to the suspension bridge overlooking the aisle leading down the shipyard, guessing that was where Skringler had burrowed himself. He had chosen the perfect spot to pick her off. If she attempted to go back into the open, she would be gunned down. She had to find a way to dig him out without exposing herself. She looked around, eyeballing the support rigs around her, searching for—

Yes. That would do it!

Zyra tugged at the blackened sleeve on her right arm to give her access to the communicator on her wrist. She accessed the Helship-II’s super computer and used it to hack into the shipyard’s computer network. Zyra had to suppress a grin as she worked. If Skringler thought he was going to kill her this easily, he was wrong. The screen on her communicator lit up an array of colors before turning a solid green. She glanced over her shoulder back across the aisle to see lights dot the hulking frames of service bots as they began to move. With seemingly choreographed movements, they fired their shoulder rockets and shot up toward the suspension bridge. Zyra couldn’t crane her neck to see, but Skringler must have seen the bots coming, because he changed the direction of his aim to open fire on them. Zyra allowed herself a weak grin. It would take more than a single laser rifle to damage their armor-plated frames. No longer under fire, she shifted, and peered up at the bridge to notice Skringler running from the service bots when they fixed on his position.

Zyra knew this was her moment to strike. She leapt up from the floor with a gun in each hand and dashed into the open. Her arms leveled with the suspension bridge above. Bolts of red energy tore through the bridge, causing sparks to fly everywhere. She ran as fast as she could, racing for the end of the aisle to overtake Skringler before he could reach the end of the bridge. One well-placed shot snapped the bridge’s metal support beam. It groaned and lurched sideways. Zyra saw Skringler grab onto the guardrail on the wobbling bridge to keep from falling to his death.

She ran over to a cargo-lift platform and wrapped her arm around the rail. She took aim at the hydraulic tank and turned her head to keep from being blinded when she shot it. She heard a loud bang and whooshing of gas as the platform shot up into the air like a rocket. In what seemed the span of a single breath, she was suspended hundreds of feet in the air where the broken suspension bridge was.

Zyra leapt from the platform onto the bridge. She looked down at its perforated floor to see it wobbling beneath her. After steadying her feet and her nerves, she raced along its length. By now, Skringler had regained his footing and seen her running toward him. He turned and made his way to the end of the bridge. Zyra saw the wide gap that separated the two parts of the bridge and knew she would only have one shot at making it across. So she lowered her shoulders and ran as hard as she could for the gap. When she leapt into the air, the final suspension beam snapped, and the bridge dipped and collapsed behind her.

She waved her arms and kicked as the air whooshed past her, cooling the sweat on her face. She landed squarely on her feet and felt the bridge bounce beneath her. Before she could stand upright, she heard a metallic groan as the bridge gave way. She released her pistols, letting them plummet to the floor several hundred meters below, and reached forward, fingers splayed, desperate to grab onto the falling bridge. Her fingers locked onto the twisted railing, but to her horror, the bridge tore away further, leaving her suspended in the air. Zyra let out a cry as her arm nearly ripped out of the socket. She held on for dear life, hoping the last beam holding the bridge in place wouldn’t break. She tried to pull herself up, but lost her grip. Only one hand kept her from falling to her death.

Sweat beaded on her brow as Zyra’s fingers slipped from the metal. She gasped when powerful fingers locked around her wrist and wrenched her upwards. She looked up to see Skringler pulling at her arm. A moment later, she was lying flat on the undamaged part of the suspension bridge. Skringler was breathing hard and grinned as he brought his face close enough to Zyra’s that she could smell the sweat from his body.

“I’m getting tired of savin’ your life.”

Her eyes glowed with hatred.

“This doesn’t change anything.”

“You’re breakin’ my heart.” He lowered himself and attempted to press his mouth to hers. But she turned her head from him. “Guess there’s no hope for us, then, is there? You can’t say I didn’t try.”

Skringler straightened and pointed the barrel of his rifle at Zyra’s face. She looked into the gaping blackness of the barrel, awaiting the shot that would claim her life. But instead of firing, Skringler swung the weapon around and smashed the butt into her face. Zyra went limp on the floor.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Queen Karah coughed from the black smoke filling her lungs as Commander Killian helped her back to her feet. Her legs quivered beneath her, making standing a trial. She looked at Killian, seeing the fear that etched deep lines into her sooty face.

“Are you hurt, Your Majesty?”

Karah waved her off.

“I am fine.” She stared at the lifeless eyes peeking out from the blackened face of an officer who had been crushed by debris when part of the ceiling had been torn away. Smoke drifted lazily past her vision as she looked around to see more limp bodies scattered all around the command center. Karah paled and felt nausea make her stomach twist. Her throat scratched as she forced words out of her mouth. “What is our status?”

“Not good. I can’t open lines of communication to the fleet.”

Karah shifted her gaze to the main viewscreen and frowned.

“What about visuals?”

“We’re getting them back online now,” Killian said, looking to the officers who were huddled around the communications console, trying to restore power to it. Karah leaned forward and stepped over the body of one of her personal guards. She limped past more sprawled forms and looked at the main viewscreen. The dark screen gave way to a hazy image filled with flickering lines. She winced in horror at the miniature stars exploding on the screen. Each one of those stars was a ship with a living being on it.

Until the impact a few minutes ago, her planetary defense force had performed admirably. They had strafed the Alliance ships, pushing their fighters back away from the rim of the world. However, Commander Sheehan had followed through on his threat and ordered his ships to rain down destruction upon her people from orbit. She had only to glance at one of the secondary screens to see the fires that raged throughout the underground cities. If the destruction were as great as she feared, the death toll would be staggering.

“The Alliance has been planning this all along, Commander. They were waiting to sink their claws into us. How many of our people now lie dead at their hands?”

“They used some kind of super weapon against us. There was nothing we could do to stop it.”

Karah’s eyes shimmered as she gazed at the melee on the screen, too terrified to look away from the unfolding slaughter.

“Look at them. Hunting down the last of our ships like vermin. I want communications restored immediately. I must speak with Captain Ajala before it’s too late.”

“Ajala’s dead,” Killian said, shaking her head.

“We lost the Minerva?”

“Along with the rest of our command ships. Before we lost contact with the fleet, Captain Ajala reported that Commander Sheehan had a reserve force waiting on the other side of the moon. We couldn’t detect them because of their jammers. They weren’t ordinary fighters. They were equipped with the same weapons that were used to attack the planet. They wiped out our entire fleet and the Legion’s.”

Karah clutched at her breast as she leaned forward as if she were going to faint. Killian steadied her with her strong arms.

“How could this happen?”

“We couldn’t match their firepower. Those weapons. It’s like nothing we’ve ever seen before. Shields are useless against them. We can’t hold out much longer. Perhaps it’s time to issue a surrender?”

Karah’s eyes lit up with rage. Too many of her people had suffered at the hands of men: the mutilations, rapes, killings, tortures, forced abortions, illegal experiments, slavery, and gendercide. She would not allow the dark days to return. Not while she still drew breath. “Never! We will fight to the last woman before I ever order a surrender!”

Killian’s bloodless face made her look like an apparition. “You don’t understand, Your Majesty. We’ve already lost. Sheehan’s ground troops have landed on the planet. A large force of ships commanded by ex-pats assisted in the second attack. I fear they’re also part of the force that’s currently making its way into our cities.”

“Ex-patriots have landed?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. The men of New Venus have come home.”

Karah shut her eyes and grabbed fistfuls of her crimson hair. “What have I done to our people?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Golden hair shrouded Zyra’s face as she passed through the arch that led into the construction facility of the shipyard. Stars leapt across her vision, forcing her to squint to keep the world in focus. Darkness hovered about her, pressing in with the weight of a black hole, impairing her view. With each step she took forward, the room grew darker. But it was not because of the throbbing of her swollen cheek or her spotty vision. Rather, it was her rising anger that caused the world to shrink into a narrow funnel, blocking out all else except the man staring at her from across the aisle.

“You never did know how to take a loss, Zanr. Your biggest weakness is you don’t understand that sometimes you gotta lose the battle to win the war.”

Zyra’s squint intensified when she gazed at the muzzle of the rifle trained in her direction.

“Only one who’s going to lose today is you.”

Her words rumbled in her throat, barely concealing her rage. Just looking at Skringler was enough to turn her stomach.

“Don’t think so. You’re just like those Fluffies. You want to do a man’s job, but ain’t got the tools to do it.”

She placed one foot in front of the other, narrowing the distance between herself and Skringler with only the thought of killing him on her mind.

“Maybe you forgot to read my IGP profile. Says I prefer to bring my prisoners back in a box.”

“Would ask if you brought a box for me, ’cept I know it ain’t easy for you to kill the man who made you into the woman you are.”

“Wrong. It’s just that easy!”

Zyra’s eyes went wild as she clenched her left hand into a fist. A crack of thunder shook the air when a spear of brilliant fuchsia bloomed just above her wrist.

“So the bitch finally bares her fangs. Took you long enough.”

Zyra squeezed her fist harder, veins near her knuckles throbbing beneath the translucent beam as she marched toward Skringler. He raised his rifle to look into its scope and snapped the trigger. Instead of the expected muzzle flash, there was a loud click. Zyra noticed lines wrinkle Skringler’s brow as he grimaced at the weapon. He reached for his belt and unsheathed a familiar black knife. No sooner had he pressed a firm thumb into the hilt than arcs of electricity spread across the blade, causing it to glow a deep purple in the darkness. He grinned crookedly as he fitted the blade to the rifle bayonet-style and matched Zyra’s stride.

Zyra increased her gait just before she dipped her shoulders and burst into an angry sprint. The air crackled from the flow of energy released from her blade. Her face flushed as sweat ran down her brow, her hatred of the man causing her blood to boil. She drew back her arm as the distance between them closed, determined to bury her RISK blade in his chest. Another crack of thunder made the hair on Zyra’s arm grow stiff as she swung her weapon in a wide arc. Skringler sidestepped the attack and swung his rifle at Zyra. She spun on a heel, whipped herself around and made a backwards slash at Skringler. He hefted his rifle only to see it split in two. The superheated remains of the metal weapon hissed as he slipped his electro-knife from the barrel and gave the useless rifle a toss. He avoided her follow-up attack.

Skringler’s face glowed as Zyra’s RISK blade flashed before it. Rather than face what he must have assumed was certain death, he swung his knife once to gain his distance before turning to run from her. Zyra clung to his shadow, lashing out at him over and over again. She hacked through metal pipes, support beams, and whatever else stood between herself and Skringler. She was like a mad badger, snapping and hissing at a retreating snake, consumed by her rage and intent on ridding Skringler of his pitiful life. Streams of gas gushed out of the pipelines that were severed in the wake of her attack.

Skringler stumbled more than once, each time nearly getting beheaded in the process. Whenever Zyra got within striking range, he bobbed, weaved, and ducked her lethal strikes. He shot down a long service aisle where metal crates were stacked to the ceiling. He broke his stride just long enough to knock down several boxes, hoping to trip Zyra. She could see the blood drain from his face when she launched herself into the air and with a wide lope leapt from one box to the other without ever breaking her stride.

Skringler had angered the wrong bounty hunter. She was not the same naive young woman who had hovered at his side like a love-struck schoolgirl. She was a killer, plain and simple, and she was determined to prove it to him.

He kept looking back at her and tripping clumsily over his feet. He had only made it a short distance down a long flight of stairs that led to the foundry when his feet crossed again and he went tumbling down the rest of its length. Zyra ignored the stairs, shifted right, and vaulted herself onto the chains hanging from the hook on a robotic crane. She swung through the air like a savage hero from an Old Earth novel and released her grip to drop down to the platform that overlooked the lower floor.

She spun around, leapt into the air, and back-flipped off the platform. Skringler got up from the floor just in time to see Zyra land in front of him, her RISK blade blazing like Zeus’ thunderbolt. No words were needed to declare her intentions. Just the violent crack of thunder as her blade flashed at him furiously again.

Skringler dove as her blade slashed at him. A white flame gushed from the hewn heel of his boot. He tumbled into a stack of steel cogs and threw them at her one by one. Zyra cut one of them in half with her blade, but before she could deflect another, she was struck in the midsection. She doubled over and crumpled to the floor. She was bent over, looking at the hot blood gushing through her fingers.

She lifted her eyes just in time to see Skringler charging toward her with his electro-knife raised. She swung her RISK blade once to get him to back off, but the sweat pouring into her eyes had caused her to misjudge his distance. Before she could swing her weapon again, she felt a set of hard knuckles smash into her face. She let out a grunt and fell to the floor. Knowing she was at Skringler’s mercy, she propped herself up on her hands to regain her standing height. She screamed as something hot and sharp went straight through her left hand, slicing through flesh and bone like a hot knife through butter. She glanced down to see the hilt of Skringler’s electro-blade sticking out of her RISK blade’s generator patch. Sparks popped and hissed out of its exposed circuits. Her fingers were wet and sticky from the blood that pooled on the floor beneath her trembling hand. Noticeably absent was the familiar red glow around her fist.

“Gotcha.”

Skringler went on the attack like a wolf that had been unleashed from its fetters and kicked her hard in the face, almost causing her to black out. A mixture of saliva and blood trickled from the corner of her torn mouth as he rolled her over onto her back and dragged her to a large hydraulic press. He hoisted her onto the deck below the pressing platen where she lay in a daze. “I always said you’d come to a bad end. Would’ve been nice to let you hang around. But this ain’t a business for softies.”

Zyra’s lips moved as if attempting to utter an insult, but she was unaware of the danger looming. Skringler flashed his trademark grin as he smashed a fist on the controls to the press and walked away. The hydraulic press groaned to life, sputtering once before succumbing to a whine. The loud racket caused Zyra to open her eyes only to see a large round metal object plummeting toward her. She gasped and rolled off of the press. A loud boom shook the floor as the awesome force of the press smashed down on the empty deck.

It took a moment for Zyra to regain her bearings. She attempted to push herself up from the floor and fell when her left hand protested. Stars filled her vision, dragging her back to the darkness. She clutched her hand to her breast and forced herself back to her feet with the strength in her right.

A quick glance to her left hand revealed burnt flesh beneath her RISK blade generator patch. Without a weapon, or the use of both hands, she was at a severe disadvantage. Not willing to remain unarmed, she looked around the factory for something she could use as a weapon. She frowned at the large strips of metal lying about on conveyor belts. Each strip looked to weigh several hundred pounds. They wouldn’t serve her needs at all.

She turned her attention to her injured hand. The wound was deep, but the flesh peeking out from her torn generator patch was black. It was unlikely she would die unless an artery had been severed. In that case, she would have bled to death from such a horrible injury had the patch not burned the skin beneath it and sealed the wound. The electro-knife would have also destroyed enough tissue to keep her from bleeding profusely from her palm as well. The pain of the burnt wound was unimaginable, but it saved her life. She wasn’t sure if moving her hand would tear the cauterized veins open and cause them to bleed again. So she ripped the sleeve from her left arm, wrapped it tenderly around her hand, and used her teeth to tie a knot. She winced at the unimpressive field dressing.

Not perfect, but it will have to do.

She gazed across the length of the shipyard toward the bridge that led to the foundry, and broke into a trot. Her chest hurt, stifling her breath. Anger festered in her heart, threatening to overcome her. But there was guilt also. She had almost done the unthinkable when she lost herself to her rage, throwing aside the needs of others to satisfy her lust for blood. Zyra knew the stakes. Killing Skringler would be the same as killing the Venusians. But letting him live wasn’t an option she liked, either. There was no middle ground and she had to accept her role as final arbiter in the fate of a world. Was she willing to see the Venusians die so she could take her revenge on Skringler? Would she allow the only chance at a proper future for herself be destroyed in a blaze of hatred? Was the loss of life worth seeing the man she hated dead? The thought of Skringler living another day, even if only to die in the near future, burned her more deeply than the wound in her hand. She didn’t just want him to die. She wanted to hold the blade that tore open his throat. She wanted—no, needed to be his destroyer.

Shame caused tears to burn her eyes. What would Mikaela think if she saw her now, her lover transformed into a vengeful spirit bent solely on killing the only man who could save her people? Zyra’s shame turned to disgust.

No. She wouldn’t kill Skringler. Not if she could help it. Too many lives depended on it. Skringler would pay for his crimes. But she would not be his executioner.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Commander Sheehan paced slowly about the bridge of the Kraken, looking more irritable than a man who had all but crushed his enemy should have. His hands were balled into fists at his side as he waited for the inevitable surrender of the Venusians.

“Sir, the Tyrant and the Ajax both report heavy casualties. The Guardian has lost structural integrity and is ordering everyone on board to abandon ship.”

“What about the rest of the fleet?”

“Our fighters continue to take most of the damage. Three hundred fighters are unaccounted for. We’ve also lost the Archimedes and the Calibos. Shall I order the fleet to withdraw?”

“Don’t be foolish, Ensign. The loss of those ships is unfortunate, but we have the Venusians right where we want them. Their underground cities have been reduced to rubble and their people slaughtered. Victory is ours.”

“How, sir? The longer this battle draws out, the more casualties we take.”

“Casualties mean nothing if the mission objective is accomplished.”

“I thought our objective was to retrieve Boris Skringler.”

“He is no longer our primary objective. Once we’ve eradicated the last remnants of their planetary defense force and routed their ground armies, we will have full control of their world.”

“Is annexing New Venus worth the loss of life?”

“We are soldiers. It is our duty to die for liberty.”

Sheehan continued to walk about in a circle, rubbing a thumb across his jaw to feel the first impression of growing stubbles.

“Pardon me for saying it, Commander. But this doesn’t seem like liberty, but rather tyranny.”

Sheehan gave Voors a cross look. “What?”

“Those women down there. They didn’t wrong us. We could have settled this dispute through diplomacy. We didn’t have to kill thousands of their people.”

Sheehan stopped his manic pacing and fixed his gaze on Voors.

“How little you know, Ensign. A wise man once said, ‘An unjust peace is better than a just war.’”

“I don’t understand, sir.”

Sheehan almost admired the naïveté of Voors. This was his maiden mission and he was obviously still innocent to the ways of the universe.

“Sometimes blood must be spilled for the greater good of all. What we do today is to prevent a worse atrocity.”

“What atrocity, sir?”

Sheehan widened his stance and folded his hands behind his back, his scarlet eyebrows knitting together.

“The death of the Alliance.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Steam choked the air as waterfalls of molten metal fell into large vats around Zyra. She had tracked Skringler to the foundry where assembly parts for spacefaring vessels were fabricated from molds of liquid metal, knowing his only means of escape was to reach the prep area just ahead where ships were tested for flight. A person would have to be desperate to attempt to use an untested ship for flight into space. But Skringler was as desperate as they came. She had no doubt where he was headed and what he planned to do once he got there.

Zyra’s lungs hurt from the strain of breathing the toxic air. Her skin was slick with the sweat running down her body. Her vision blurred from the loss of blood, forcing her to squint to keep her eyes in focus. She looked at the makeshift bandage around her hand and winced at its deep red color. Whatever happened now, she knew her fight with Skringler would end here.

Her alert eyes scanned the area. No sooner had she crossed a ramp that overlooked the foundry than she saw Skringler looking up at her.

“Seems I was wrong. Your problem is you don’t know how to die.”

Zyra’s eyes reflected the red glow of the molten cascade.

“Didn’t think that was a problem.”

“For me, it is.”

She walked across the ramp and descended the metal stairs leading to the floor where Skringler stood, hands held at her side, ready to strike.

“You’re going to pay for all the people you hurt.”

“Drop the act. You don’t give a damn about these people. You’re mad ’cause I shot your little girlfriend.”

“Her most of all,” Zyra said, eyes turning to slits. “I’m taking you back to Queen Karah even if I have to drag you.”

“I’m not going back to a cell.”

“It’s not a request.”

“Fine,” Skringler said, glaring at Zyra as he popped his knuckles. “Let’s settle this. I’ve got a flight to catch.”

Skringler advanced toward Zyra with wide, measured steps. She charged him, her rage clouding her mind against her pain. In an instant, they were at each other’s throat, letting off a series of hard punches and kicks. Zyra dodged Skringler’s stutter step movements and slipped past each punch he threw. She snapped her leg forward to check the flight of Skringler’s foot. He drew back the leg, and kept his punches short and quick to keep her from breaking through his defense. Zyra knew her speed was giving him fits. In general, men were faster than women. But it was obvious that Skringler’s daily regimen of push-ups had made him bulkier than he used to be, slowing him down enough for Zyra to match his movements. On the other hand, Skringler only had to connect once with one of his devastating blows, and the fight would be over.

Zyra managed to slip past his guard and checked one of his punches mid-air with her forearm. She ignored the stinging sensation and kicked him in the back of the knee. Skringler buckled, giving her a clear shot at his face. She struck him with all the strength she had and sent a tooth flying out of his mouth. She never gave him time to recover. Another quick jab to his face followed by a cross had him on his heels.

Despite the vicious blows she gave him, she didn’t have the power to knock him unconscious. Since she was expending just as much energy trying to stay out of range of his attacks, wearing him down wasn’t an option either. She had to find a way to disable him before he could go on the offensive again. She raised her foot, hoping to drive a heel through his kneecap, but Skringler moved out of the way and made a feint. Zyra saw it coming a mile away and followed through on her next attack with a raging fist. She caught him square in the face. Sweat went flying everywhere as Skringler staggered backwards with blood spotting his lips. Zyra had heard something crack when she landed the blow and felt a surge of excitement, thinking she had managed to injure him. It quickly dissipated when Skringler found himself a wolfish grin and used the pad of his thumb to flick blood from the corner of his mouth. She sucked in a deep breath, bracing herself for the storm she knew was coming her way.

Sweat stung her eyes as she circled Skringler, watching his movements carefully. He launched himself into the air and performed a roundhouse kick. She ducked, certain the blow would have ended the fight had it struck home. Practice was over and Skringler was determined to score a home run. A steady torrent of powerful kicks flew at her, first high, then low. She had to spin and duck to keep from falling prey to his attacks. Rage welled in her again. She halted another one of his kicks with a deftly placed foot and caught him on the ear with her right fist. Unable to use her left hand to compliment the attack, she dropped and performed a leg sweep. Skringler hopped over the attack, letting it pass harmlessly under him. She stood back up and just avoided being struck in the face.

Skringler was like a shark that smelled blood in the water. He knew she was protecting her left hand and reached forward to grab her arm. He twisted it, and would have snapped it in two had she not turned into the attack. Despite her defensive move, Skringler had her arm locked in a vise and was determine to render it useless; he overpowered her with his strong grip and forced her arm to the point of snapping. She screamed in agony and twisted as far as she could to send an elbow flying into the back of his head. She wrenched free and attacked him like a mad woman. But Skringler was ready for her. Each time she threw a punch or a kick he blocked it, then snapped off an attack of his own. She was unable to keep him at bay and felt her head snap backwards when he connected with her. She made a retaliatory swing, but he rebuffed the attack. She was struck in the face, again, and again, and again.

“When’re you gonna get it?” A left cross smashed into her face, making her stumble backwards. “I made you.” A swift right caught her on the ear. “Everything you know. Everything you are. You owe it to me.”

He struck her again, making her yelp. “Your moves. Your style. I know them. They’re mine. I can read you like a book!”

He blasted her again. A stream of blood flew out of her mouth when he drove a crushing fist into her jaw. Had Skringler been toying with her all this time? She had fought him straight up, taking his punches and delivering her own. But in the blink of an eye, he had become too much for her. All her skill, training, and experience failed her under his savage assault.

“You’re nothing without me, Zanr. You think you’re a killer? You’re just a shadow, a cheap copy of the real thing. You’re not a killer. You’re the scum I scrape off my boot when I’m looking to waste time.”

A final blow under the chin left Zyra sprawled on the floor. She stretched out her hand trying to crawl from him. A howl escaped her lips when Skringler smashed the heel of his boot into her left hand. She wailed, sick with pain.

“Pain is the only thing someone like you can understand. Not love. Not friendship. Not even money. Just bone-shattering pain.” Zyra shook on the ground, holding her damaged hand.

“We could’ve been special, Zanr. You could’ve lived it up, enjoyed a life with me most people only dream of. But you chose to be one of them. One of the weak ones. Too bad. You’ll never know what you missed.”

Zyra’s eyes burned with tears. Not of pain, but anger. All of her anguish formed a knot in her heart, twisting it, and tearing it to pieces. Her blood pumped hot and wild in her veins, setting her on fire like flesh-eating acid. She fought back a scream as her body shook from the rage exploding within her. She used her right hand to grab hold of a nearby storage tank leaning against the wall and propped herself back up.

“Still...” Skringler continued, appearing both impressed and annoyed as Zyra reached her full height, “gotta love your gusto. Easy on the eyes, tough as nails, and nasty as you want to be. Too bad it didn’t work out between us, Zanr. They would’ve made songs about us.”

Zyra’s eyes were wide and untamed as Skringler flashed his electro-knife and strode forward. She marched toward him and weaved her eyebrows into a band of gold. Skringler drew back his arm, ready to plunge his blade into Zyra. She stood her ground, waiting for the deadly thrust. Like a serpent lashing out at its prey, Skringler lunged, driving the knife straight at her chest. She shifted sideways, locked her fingers around the joints in his wrist, and twisted it before she slipped the knife out of his grip. Her movements knocked Skringler off balance allowing her to step behind him. With a quick shove, she forced him down to his knees and brought the electro-knife to his throat.

“Now, that’s a new trick,” Skringler said, unable to hide the admiration from his voice. Zyra panted as she squeezed the rough leather hilt of the electro-knife and held it just under his throat, the soft hum of its glowing blade making her fingers tingle. Her eyes burned more from anger than the mixture of blood and sweat dripping into them.

“I’ve got a whole bag of them. The next trick is to make you disappear,” she said. Skringler’s short-lived admiration turned to anger when Zyra pulled the hair at his scalp.

“You came all this way to get me. For what? To turn me over to Karah? She’s a rotten witch, y’know. A pretty face with an ugly soul. But you’re not like her. You’ve got a conscience. That’s what makes you better than these Fluffies. A man can always trust that you’ll give him a fair shake.”

“Shut up!” Zyra said, tugging harder on his scalp. Her left hand protested the action with spikes of pain shooting up her throbbing fingers and bleeding knuckles. But she wanted him to suffer just like she did.

“Karah was going to kill you! Three thousand volts from her Death Crown was going to melt your brain into pudding. She was going to offer you up like a fish on a hook just so she could send a message to the men her people kicked off this world. You think there’s honor in protecting a woman like her? Let the Fluffies burn. You don’t owe them nothin’!”

“I’m not here for the Venusians.”

“No, you came for a woman,” Skringler said, the ruddy glow from the foundry making the glistening sweat on his face look like glass beads. “What can she do for you that a man can’t? I offered you the universe.”

“I don’t want the universe!”

“That’s why you don’t have a chance mixin’ it up with people like me. You don’t know what you’re fightin’ for.”

“I do know what I’m fighting for!”

“So you say. But I know different. I know what makes you tick. I know what keeps you up at night.”

“You don’t know anything about me!”

“I know your father’s taking a dirt nap. And your mother...well, you don’t even know if you have one.”

“I told you to shut up!”

“Maybe I figured you wrong after all. Maybe it ain’t pain that drives you. Maybe it’s death.” Zyra shuddered, her spirit wracked by a terror deeper than her pain. She inhaled and struggled against the familiar intent growing inside her. Her skin burned from the heat of the nearby steaming vats. But it was nothing compared to the flames that had been ignited within her.

“You’re a lost cause, Zanr. I tried to show you the way, but you chose death instead. You chose death for me, but death found the one you loved most. You thought you found your life mate. But you found the reaper instead. It’s too late to reset the clock now.” Skringler assumed his usual grin, but there was none of its usual mischief, only malice. “Funny, if I knew you’d be so sore over me putting a round through your girlfriend’s stomach, I would have given the bitch a kiss before I pulled the trigger.”

Zyra tensed. Her fingers went rigid, turning white around the knife-hilt. Muscle spasms throughout her body sent jolts through her limbs. She sucked for breath, dragging air deep into her aching lungs. A disquieting storm brewed inside her, threatening to consume her. Her thoughts were lost to the tumult of emotions raging within her, making her forget the pain of her body. She exhaled, releasing the air from her lungs with a shiver.

“Her name is Mikaela,” Zyra said, invoking the name of her lover with dread. A tear fell from her eye, mixing with a stream of blood trickling down her bruised cheek.

“I don’t give a shit what her name is.”

The glint in Zyra’s eyes was lost to a sea of black so deep that even light could not pierce them. The smooth curves of her face morphed into an expressionless mask.

“You should. Because she’s the reason you’re dead.”

A squeak came from Skringler when Zyra yanked his head back to expose his neck. Scalding heat scorched the flesh under his chin as she raked the electro-knife across his throat, tearing a wide gape in his flesh. Blood gushed down his nearly severed neck into the opening of his shirt. Zyra watched with pitiless eyes as he choked on the blood gushing through his quivering lips. She released her grip on his hair and let him fall to the floor where he lay motionless. The floor turned red from the blood seeping from the wound on his neck. Zyra clenched her teeth when Skringler’s eyeballs went up into his head, leaving behind solid white orbs.

“I am death.”

Skringler might have been the one with the black heart, but she took no delight in his passing. But she didn’t mourn his loss either. Where there should have been anger, pity, or sadness, she felt only emptiness, as if a black hole had swallowed a part of her soul. She had gone past the point of no return. She had killed the only man who could save her. The tomorrow she had longed to see was gone forever.

Zyra started at the clicks of boot heels on the floor behind her. She twisted to see several soldiers pointing their guns at her. She wasn’t surprised that after the destruction she had caused to the shipyards, soldiers had been dispatched to apprehend her. But instead of staring into the barrels of the guns wielded by members of the New Venus military, she was facing a mix of male and female forms dressed in the familiar black fatigues of the InterGalactic Alliance Marines.

“Down on the floor, now, or you’re Xeno-spit!” one of the male soldiers said. Zyra raised her uninjured arm into the air and lowered herself to her knees. She grunted when the soldiers grabbed her arms and slammed her hard to the floor.

CHAPTER THIRTY

“We now bring you this important update. At 0700 hours InterGalactic Time, a fleet of ships under the command of InterGalactic Alliance Naval Commander Padraic Sheehan overthrew the planetary defense force of New Venus and seized control of the world. Martial law has since been declared and the ruler of New Venus, Queen Karah Taresh, taken prisoner.

“We cannot confirm this, but our sources in the military claim that this operation was carried out to rescue two Alliance citizens who had been wrongfully imprisoned. Again we cannot confirm this, but rumor has it that the two prisoners were none other than the terrorist Boris Skringler and intergalactic bounty hunter Zyra Zanr. Sources also say that upon capture of New Venus it was revealed that the Venusian government had joined the Legion of Worlds. A declaration of war has been ushered by the governing body of the Legion of Worlds. We are awaiting confirmation of — ”

Zyra sat in the darkness, stiff and weary-eyed, as she watched the figures that marched past her cell. There had been much activity since the invasion of New Venus. For the past two days, she had heard the awful cries of the women who had been brought to the prison. She imagined most of them were soldiers who had been on the frontlines in the battle against the invading Alliance forces. She closed her eyes when she heard a distant howl of a woman, dreading what was happening to her. Her eyes snapped back open when the cell door creaked open. She shot up from the floor, holding her injured arm protectively across her stomach, and gazed upon the man in military dress who approached her.

“You need not fear me, Ms. Zanr. I will not harm you,” the man said, arms kept motionless at his side.

“Who are you?”

Her voice cracked from lack of use.

“My name is Commander Sheehan of the InterGalactic Alliance Navy. I have come on behalf of President Upshaw. He has a message for you.”

“The President?”

He nodded, his eyes taking in the full sight of her. Was he trying to intimidate her? Or was he one of the nefarious males who seized every opportunity to attempt to impress his superiority over a woman?

“Due to a series of unfortunate events, the invasion of New Venus became necessary. Now that order is in the process of being restored to this world, we are hoping that you will assist us in maintaining the peace.”

“How can I do that? I’m not a soldier.”

Sheehan flicked a thumb against one of the medals hanging from his chest to remove a spot of dust from it.

“There are people who will question you about the events of the past few days and your significance in them. We merely ask that you refrain from revealing the details of our purpose for coming here.”

“You mean the invasion?”

It was a statement more than a question.

“Precisely. Certain disgruntled elements within our government will not react favorably to the news that we invaded New Venus without provocation.”

“So you want me to lie about what you’ve done.”

Her eyes cut through the darkness to read the blank expression on Sheehan’s face.

“Think of it as doing your duty to protect the lives of your fellow citizens.”

“I can’t do that.”

Sheehan’s brows joined and wrinkled the skin above them.

“You can’t do what, Ms. Zanr?”

“Lie for you. You butchered these people. They were peaceful. They didn’t harm the Alliance.”

“You are wrong. The Venusians opposed us and in the end they paid the price for it.”

“Price?” The pit of Zyra’s stomach twisted. “You mean because they refused to become slaves of the Alliance they deserved to be slaughtered?”

“That is a rather coarse interpretation of the events.”

“It’s the truth.”

“The truth serves no purpose here. All that matters is your cooperation. Do I have it?”

Zyra assumed a glower. Sheehan took a wide step toward her. She fell back on a heel and struck wall. A forelock of golden hair brushed her face when Sheehan’s breath warmed her skin.

“Do you know what happens to people who don’t do as I tell them?”

“I can guess.”

It was a pitiful attempt to sound brave. But Zyra didn’t want the man to know how helpless she felt in his towering presence.

“Then you’ll know that this is a one-time-only proposition. If you wish to leave this world alive, you will not tell anyone what has occurred today.” Zyra didn’t say anything, still clinging to the last thread of her defiance. “You were sentenced to death. The invasion hasn’t changed that future for you. Not yet.”

Zyra couldn’t hold Sheehan’s gaze any longer and lowered her eyes.

“Fine. I won’t tell anyone.”

Sheehan’s unblinking eyes crawled over her form, silently declaring his predatory nature.

“For your sake, I would hope not.” He took a handful of her hair and looked at it. His voice lowered to a drone. “I don’t think a beautiful young woman like you would last long in the hands of Xorghkan slavers. You do know what they do to women like you?”

Zyra didn’t speak, her revulsion of the man’s threat making her pale. Having made his point, he released her hair and turned around. He measured his steps to the cell door and stopped abruptly. “I will send a guard along shortly. If I were you, I’d get on your ship and leave this world as soon as you can. There will be many more casualties over the next few days. I don’t think you want to count yourself among them.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Zyra didn’t know how long she had stood frozen in time, motionless, oblivious to the white clad women tending to the moaning figures lying in rows of cots. She was lost in a sea of grief, numb to her own physical pain, as she gazed upon Mikaela, whose face was paler than the white sheets that draped her inert form, and lips a deeper blue than Zyra’s shimmering eyes. A slight brush of her fingertips against Mikaela’s hand filled her with a repulsive chill, making her withdraw her touch. Only the rising and lowering of her breast signaled there was any life in her.

Regret tore at the seams of Zyra’s soul, gnawing away at her with invisible teeth. If it weren’t for her, Mikaela would not be here now. The horrible gunshot wound she had suffered a few days ago had festered. The infection had grown worse and spread throughout her body. Doctors had spent the last few hours trying to repair the damage.

But it was too late.

Zyra could smell death in the air. It oozed from Mikaela’s pores like worms from a rotten apple core.

“You betrayed me.”

Mikaela’s words lingered in Zyra’s mind, haunting her, reminding her how a moment’s weakness had brought forth this reality. The woman she loved was going to die and it was her fault. Zyra gently squeezed Mikaela’s hand and rubbed the pad of her thumb against her silky palm. She knew those hands intimately. They were gentle hands. Loving hands. Not like those of the man who had taken Mikaela’s life.

Zyra felt the chill in her body grow deeper. Her beautiful Mikaela, gentle Mikaela, was going to die. The full weight of Mikaela’s impending death fell upon her like an anvil. In an instant, she realized why the death of Molly Black had affected her so much. Death, for her, had become nothing more than a childish game. She flirted with it like a matador taunting a wild bull and courted it as though she were drunk with madness. Killing gave her purpose. She took solace in its cruelty like a woman clinging to a raft tossed about in the torrent of a violent storm. But now, as she looked into the ashen-white face of Mikaela, she saw past the masquerade to glimpse the true face of death. Gone was the twisted mask that skewed reality like the mirrors in a funhouse. Death was a monster and had the final say in all matters. If there were a god in the universe, Death would be Her name.

Zyra stared into the depths of eternity, knowing it would claim Mikaela, never to release her. She would never see Mikaela again. The good woman she was would be lost to the universe forever. She would live on to bear the memory of Mikaela. But it would never replace what was lost.

“You think you’re a killer? You’re just a shadow, a cheap copy of the real thing.”

Her eyes remained unblinking orbs while she listened to the repugnant hiss of the regulator tank pumping oxygen into Mikaela’s lungs.

You’re wrong, Skringler. I am a killer. I killed my best friend. Now I’ve killed the only person I love.

She brought a hand to her quivering lips. Her eyes grew misty, but tears did not come.

“Don’t let him win.”

I won’t, Mika. I won’t let him win.

She shifted sideways to meet the eyes of the old nurse who strolled up beside her. Her face, aged beyond her years, hardened at Zyra’s plaintive gaze.

“How long?” she asked, feeling an itch under the cast on her left arm.

“Two, maybe three hours at best. I’m sorry.”

Zyra’s shoulders dipped as if she was reeling from someone driving a knife into her chest. She choked back the sickness rising in her throat and swallowed.

“I want to stay with her.”

The nurse nodded her understanding before turning around and speaking to the patient lying in a cot beside Zyra. She ignored the chatter of the other nurses while they dressed the bleeding wounds of groaning patients and settled her gaze back on Mikaela only to notice her breaths were coming slower now. A tear hung from the edge of her eye as she squeezed Mikaela’s left hand more firmly, hoping that somewhere deep in her subconscious, Mikaela knew Zyra would never leave her side until she had taken her last breath.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Chatter like that of some gossiping crone appeared to come from the shadows as Commander Sheehan marched through the depths of The Kraken. Assuming it was only his imagination getting the best of him, he ignored the unsettling noise and pressed on past the armed guards standing at their posts throughout the corridor. He was glad to see that this part of the ship had gone undamaged during the battle for New Venus. He preferred to keep a low profile during his visitations to the ship laboratory and having work crews stationed down here would not be suitable to his needs. He caught a flicker of annoyance in the eyes of the hunched figure at the other end of the door that opened into the laboratory. The little old man was a relic of the older generation of military scientists who spent their days coming up with ways to make the rest of the galaxy exceptionally nervous. Eccentric, moody, and prone to spontaneous outburst of anger, the scientist, appearing as mad as ever, was muttering coarse words under his breath when Sheehan approached.

“You don’t look happy to see me, Dr. Rothfuss.”

Dr. Hugo Rothfuss limped over to the control interface of the lab’s main computer, still muttering obscenities. He turned the dials on the machine without bothering to acknowledge Sheehan’s presence, as was standard protocol, if not just good manners.

“Doctor?”

Sheehan’s voice was nearly plaintive. But the rumble in his throat said otherwise.

“Yes, yes. I’m busy. What do you want?”

“I want an update.”

Rothfuss sneered and continued to manipulate the controls on the computer interface.

“You will get one when I am ready.”

Sheehan ignored the combative tone of Rothfuss’s reply and marched on with his instructions.

“I have been ordered to debrief the High Command on your progress in seventeen minutes. I’m afraid waiting for you to fit me into your schedule is out of the question.”

“Bother the lot of you! Always in a hurry. If scientists possessed your lack of patience, we’d all still be living in caves on some backwater world near the Galactic core.”

“Time is precious to a soldier, Doctor. If you shared our sense of urgency, perhaps we would have fewer disagreements.”

“Your intergalactic conquest can wait.”

Sheehan shook his head.

“I very much doubt that. What I suggest is that you tell me enough to satisfy the Admirals. I imagine they won’t be happy about any further delays from you.”

“Bah! It’s done, if that’s what you want to know.”

Sheehan’s eyes lit up. “Already?”

“Of course. It was merely a matter of infusing the foreign antibodies into the proper genotypes and simply waiting for the coalescence of the infected cell matrix. Mere child’s play.”

“In plain speech?”

“You might be familiar with the term...it’s alive?”

Sheehan’s eyes grew brighter when they caught the glare from the stasis chamber Dr. Rothfuss uncovered with a flick of his wrist. Once he had removed the large white sheet that had concealed it from his vision, he was able to get a clear view of its occupant. He did not know the man inside personally. But he had always known of the man’s significance.

Sheehan heard the loud gasp of trapped air being released from the stasis chamber when Dr. Rothfuss activated the switch that unlocked it. His eyes appeared a pale brown in the glare that shone out of the chamber. Sheehan slowly leaned toward the chamber to set his eyes upon Rothfuss’s latest project. Lying motionless before him was the insensate form of the most infamous man in the galaxy.

Boris Skringler. Sheehan’s lips curled at the revolting figure lying before him. Even having been washed and all the hair removed from his body, he was still a repulsive sight. Sheehan would have liked to see the Venusians given the opportunity to carry out his execution. Skringler was lower than dirt and had no redeeming value whatsoever. Or so he had thought until after the invasion had been complete.

“He looks every bit as foul as his reputation.”

“There is more to this man than meets the eye, Commander.”

“How so?”

Before Dr. Rothfuss could reply, he noticed Skringler’s thick fingers flinch. Cold air from the stasis chamber caused goose bumps in his flesh as he lowered his head to more closely inspect Skringler. Stitches wove a half circle around Skringler’s throat. He thought he saw Skringler twitch his lips and pressed in even closer to look into his face.

And then it happened.

Sheehan was a man who had been forged in battle. He had encountered few things in the universe that gave him pause. And fewer yet that made him feel fear. His jaw clenched when Skringler opened his eyes. The color drained from his face when he gazed into the black elliptical pupils of a reptile. Before he could gain safe distance from Skringler, he flinched and started pulling at the metal restraints that kept his arms and legs trapped in place, threatening to pop them free from their mounts. Sheehan watched with wide eyes as Skringler let out a bestial howl.

“As I said, Commander. You can tell the High Command that their monster lives.”

NEXT:

ROGUE HUNTER: DARK SPACE

BONUS MATERIAL

QUESTION AND ANSWER WITH THE AUTHOR

(This section contain spoilers, so read at your own risk.)

Q: What was your inspiration for this series?

A: I hope you’re not going anywhere. This might take a while to answer, lol. Actually, I’ll give you the cliff notes version of my usual response to this question. What compelled me to write this series is that I wanted to write a different kind of story where the main character’s flaws were the vehicle for most of the problems that would arise. Zyra Zanr is a kind of anti-hero, but not quite. At heart, she’s a good person. But life has kicked the crap out of her and she’s just can’t seem to get a handle on things. Every time Zyra tries to fix things, she makes an even bigger mess of her life.

Zyra’s not a fool by any measure. She’s intelligent, clever, resourceful, and of course, tough-as-nails. But she’s also quite stubborn. That stubbornness gets her into a lot of trouble. Zyra is the anti-John McClane. In the Die Hard films, McClane always happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time (or the right place, depending on how you look at it). Not so with Zyra. Her problems are usually of her own making, forcing her to take drastic actions to bring order to her life again. That’s what makes writing this series fun. The attraction to this series for many readers, as well as the reason why I write it, is that in every book we get to see how Zyra gets herself both in and out of trouble. It shows that she’s very human and that vulnerability, in spite of the fact that she’s a kickass bounty hunter, is at the heart of why I’m telling this particular story.

Q: Does this series have an end? Or does it go on forever?

A: As it has taken many years to create this series, I know readers are curious about where it’s all headed, or better yet, if there is a point to it all. Although the story of Rogue Hunter is an ongoing one, I have no intention of continuing this series to perpetuity. My favorite stories are ones that have a clear beginning, middle, and end. From the start, Rogue Hunter was conceived with an endgame in sight. The main series of books, of which Inquest is only the beginning, stretches over the length of two seasons that are equivalent to exactly two years in Zyra’s life.

Zyra’s story will continue to be told through other mediums, but the two-season format provides just enough creative space to tell Zyra’s story and bring it to a resolution before it can become a sad parody of itself as has tragically happened to many other series that didn’t know when to call it quits. As a heads up, here is a list of the books that comprise the first season of this series:

Season One of Rogue Hunter

1. Gaia (Book #0)

2. Inquest

3. Dark Space

4. Life Force

5. Longshot

6. Valor

7. Death Moon

8. Alliance

9. Paladin

10. Bloodwork.

Q: Having canceled the original line of Rogue Hunter books, how do we know you intend to finish this series?

A: Unfortunately, a shift in vision and a need for quality control caused me to pull the original books from market, so it’s understandable that some readers may worry that I won’t see the job through this time around. Readers can rest assured that I’m definitely committed to finishing this series. I don’t think I could live with myself if I didn’t.

Q: What is the Rogue Hunter Adventures series?

A: The Adventures line of Rogue Hunter books is a spin off series that not only addresses the concerns of some of Zyra’s fans, but it also allows me to reach a different audience. While working on the earlier books, I felt I missed a grand opportunity to really get into the guts of Zyra’s world. In particular, I didn’t feel the stakes were high enough to get across to readers how dangerous the situation was for Zyra. We know she risks life and limb to defeat her enemies. But for me, the question remained: Just how dangerous is Zyra’s world? Without establishing the severity of the danger, it’s impossible to show how meaningful Zyra’s many sacrifices are in her attempt to fight evil. I couldn’t do that with the kids gloves on. So I decided to reboot the series to allow me to tell a more compelling story. Of course, this means that the new books are intended for mature readers who can handle the darker and more sophisticated subject matter.

In contrast, the Adventures line revives the style of the old books which were more action-driven and appealed to a wider audience. In a nutshell, it’s closer to Star Wars in terms of content than Terminator, meaning no unsavory language or adult moments. What it does have is a whole lot of butt-kicking delivered by our leading lady Zyra Zanr. Unlike the main series which asks that readers follow the story in chronological order, the Adventures books can be read out of sequence. The first book in the Adventures series is called Armada and will make its debut in 2015.

Q: How old is Zyra?

A: Since I’m not sure Zyra will be happy with me revealing her age, I’ll let her tell you herself (whenever she’s ready that is).

Q: What’s next for Rogue Hunter?

A: Let’s just say that things are going to get real interesting over the next few books. Stay tuned.

PREVIEW OF ROGUE HUNTER: DARK SPACE

Zyra squeezed herself into a nook in the wall between a pair of power generators, hoping she would be shielded from any stragglers who might peruse the service tunnel. She was in no condition to fight anyone and needed to avoid contact with the ship’s crew at all cost. Unfortunately, it wasn’t her lucky day.

She tensed at a loud knock in the service tunnel. Was someone following her? Or were they simply passing through? It didn’t matter. She had reached a dead end. If anyone came toward her they would see her. She burrowed herself in deeper, and pulled her legs closer to her body. She trembled uncontrollably knowing this could be her last moment alive.

She had no weapons and could barely stand. She breathed in deeply, trying to calm herself, but her hands still shook. She lowered her head, golden hair draping her arms as she squished herself up into a ball.

A clink.

Don’t come any closer.

Another clink.

Zyra worried her bottom lip.

I don’t want to die.

A shadow moved along the floor, making her start. She stood up silently and flattened herself against the wall, hoping against hope that whoever it was that was approaching would go back the way they came. Her lips trembled. And then it happened. A figure crossed her vision, sending her into a fit. Not knowing what else to do, Zyra bolted forward from her hiding place.

***

Bishop didn’t know what hit him. Only seconds ago, his back was arched toward the too-short ceiling while his fingers gripped his pistol. The blood trail had led him down this passage toward B-Deck’s ancillary power generator. He was tense with anticipation, knowing that if there were someone in this tunnel, he would encounter them within the next few seconds. The hum of the generator grew louder as he approached it. His finger went rigid on the trigger of his gun. One more step and he would know for certain if there were someone ahead. His heart pounded inside his chest when something large slammed into him. He went flying backwards and toppled onto the floor. He wrestled the figure that had struck him, rolling over and over again, down the passage until they landed on a ventilation grate. He fired his gun just as the grate gave way, causing him and his assailant to fall through the ceiling of an empty corridor.

Zyra felt air rush out of her lungs when she hit the floor with a smack. A wave of dizziness made her forget where she was and what was happening to her. The world spun around her in a blur of color and sound. Her stomach erupted, causing bile to fill her mouth and burn her nostrils. She swallowed, feeling even sicker afterwards. She gasped and forced air back into her lungs as she fought through her nausea to push herself up from the floor. She regained enough of her senses to glimpse the threatening figure sprawled on the floor behind her.

It took everything she had to keep from collapsing to the floor. Her arms shook under her as she crawled away from Bishop, dreading what would happen when he recovered from the fall. Keeping herself upright as she dragged herself forward was a herculean effort. Her slow, awkward attempt to escape was as futile as keeping down the contents of her upset stomach.

She hadn’t gotten far when she felt fingers lock around her ankle. She tried to twist free of the man’s iron grip, but was dragged backwards. Another tug left her flat on her chest and scraping at the floor. Still delirious and half-blind, Zyra did the only thing she could think to do and roll onto her back so she could have a clear shot at Bishop’s face. She slammed the bare heel of her other foot into his jaw, knocking him back to the floor.

Zyra leapt up from the floor and lurched, nearly falling in the process. She managed to catch her balance and stagger forward. She hobbled away from her attacker, but was tackled from behind. She grunted when she hit the floor hard again.

Bishop used the weight of his large frame to pin her down beneath him. His muscles strained against her as she tried to pull free from him. He grabbed her wrist and bent her elbow, twisting her arm until it was caught in a vice behind her back.

“Settle down, bitch, or I’ll break it!” Bishop said as Zyra cried out. She thrashed about, fighting to get free of the man’s grip. She saw his tool belt lying on the floor near her and reached for it, groping the handle of a flathead screwdriver. She cried out again, this time in anger, and yanked the screwdriver free. She swung it and stabbed Bishop in his knee. He released her with a yelp when the tool struck bone. Zyra wasted no time and went for the tool belt again. She unhooked a staple gun from the belt and spun back around to see Bishop lying on his back. There was no hesitation, just wild fury as she shoved the staple gun to his stomach and fired it repeatedly, ignoring Bishop’s pathetic scream. Zyra did not relent in firing the tool even after the staple cartridge had gone empty.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Kevis Hendrickson is a filmmaker, musician, illustrator, poet, and writer of speculative fiction. He lives in sunny Miami, Florida U.S.A. where he spends his days dreaming of new worlds and epic adventures.

For more information on Rogue Hunter or books by Kevis Hendrickson, please visit www.kevishendrickson.com.

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Music Inspired by the Book.

Table of Contents

TITLE PAGE

TIMELINE

AUTHOR’S NOTE

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

ROGUE HUNTER: INQUEST

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

NEXT:

BONUS MATERIAL

QUESTION AND ANSWER WITH THE AUTHOR

PREVIEW OF ROGUE HUNTER: DARK SPACE

WANT TO READ ZYRA’S NEXT ADVENTURE?

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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