Treyjon: Star Guardians, Book 2 Page 15

  “I think that’s being taken care of,” Treyjon said.

  “Oh, how’d she get out of the cargo hold? I’d better convince her to join the other one in that room.” Angela walked out, approaching the creature fearlessly.

  The svenkar jerked her head toward Angela and snarled.

  “This way, girl,” Angela said, rattling the can.

  She shot some of the meat into the animal’s mouth, and the svenkar promptly quieted, aside from the sound of a long tongue licking long fangs.

  Treyjon wondered if Angela had any idea that svenkars were not usually so easily placated. But she had that I’m-in-charge body language, and it worked for her.

  He briefly entertained himself with the idea of Angela striding up to the captain with a frozen steak in hand and commanding him to sit for his dinner.

  His logostec dinged.

  “This will go easier for the boarding team if you unlock the airlock hatch,” Sagitta spoke dryly over it.

  “On it, sir.”

  • • • • •

  “I see the problem,” Sagitta said, removing his helmet.

  Treyjon stood in the mess hall with the captain, Sub-Lieutenant Renshu, and Ensign Bystrom as they all looked down at the dead ambassador. The rest of the boarding team was dragging the freighter crew back to the Falcon 8. A Star Guardian helmsman would fly this ship back to Dethocoles, where the planetary law would no doubt be brought in to sort everything out.

  “What’s the problem?” Renshu asked. “A svenkar snapped his neck in half. Nobody here can be blamed for that, right?”

  Treyjon appreciated the effort to interpret the scene favorably, but the very fact that Renshu, who probably knew nothing about the situation, had felt it needed a favorable interpretation said much.

  “His neck was broken by a svenkar, yes,” Sagitta said, “but he was also stabbed repeatedly in the chest by a knife.”

  “Could have done it to himself,” Renshu said. “Might have fallen on his own blade.”

  Sagitta arched his eyebrows. “Repeatedly?”

  “A suicide attempt. Zi’i are warriors, sir. They don’t go for pills or injections.”

  Sagitta sighed at him.

  “I’m responsible, Captain,” Treyjon said. As much as he appreciated his colleague’s attempt to defend him, if there was to be trouble over this, he had to do the honorable thing and accept the blame. “He attacked me first, but I did sneak aboard this ship. Albeit, only because I figured Nebula Won was up to something shifty. And it was.”

  “I’m more responsible,” Angela said quietly from the doorway.

  She’d been instructed to return through the airlock to the Falcon 8. Treyjon smiled at her, not surprised she hadn’t gone. She came in and stood beside him.

  “I let the svenkar out,” she added.

  “And convinced it to come attack the person attacking Treyjon?” Sagitta asked dubiously.

  “Yes.”

  Sagitta’s brow wrinkled as he stared at her. All this was almost worth it to see a puzzled expression on the unflappable captain’s face.

  “I believe an autopsy will reveal Treat-Tak matted in the ambassador’s fur,” Treyjon said.

  “Treat-what?” Sagitta asked.

  Angela held up the can.

  Sagitta squinted at it, at her, and then at the ambassador. Treyjon had no idea what he was thinking.

  “Everyone to the airlock,” Sagitta said. “We’ll fly the ships back and report to the authorities. No, to the archons, I suppose. Having the ambassador involved escalates all this. I’ll have to report something to Star Guardian Headquarters, too, even though this wasn’t a sanctioned mission. Especially because this wasn’t a sanctioned mission.” Sagitta sighed.

  Treyjon didn’t have as much trouble interpreting that expression. He had to be tired of dealing with the archons and standing in long meetings by now.

  Sagitta headed for the corridor, waving for everyone to follow him out.

  “You better head straight to sickbay, Lieutenant,” he said over his shoulder. “You also look like something a svenkar chewed on.”

  “Because I’m injured or just in general, sir?”

  Sagitta shot him an unamused look before turning into the main corridor. Bystrom and Renshu followed him obediently.

  Treyjon didn’t know if he and Angela would be permitted any private moments once they returned to the ship, so he took this opportunity to wrap his uninjured arm around her shoulder.

  “I didn’t have time to mention it earlier, but I appreciated your help. A lot.”

  She rested a hand lightly on his stomach, probably worried about touching an injured spot, and smiled. Her smile had a worried tint to it.

  “I’m glad I was able to help, but I wish… I wish the svenkar had just incapacitated him, not killed him. You should be a hero for all you did today. But it sounds like you need to be worried. And I guess I need to be worried too.”

  “No. I’ll make sure none of the blame falls on you. You’re not a professional svenkar trainer. Nobody will think that you did this.”

  “I’m not comfortable having you take the blame when this was my decision. Also, I’d still worry. For you if not for myself.”

  “Oh? I wouldn’t want you to worry, but it’s nice having someone care.”

  She rose onto her tiptoes to kiss him, and for a moment, he completely forgot about his injuries.

  “Lieutenant Treyjon,” came a call from around the corner.

  Reluctantly, he broke the kiss. “Coming, sir!”

  As they headed for the hatchway, arms around each other’s waists, Angela said, “I’d like to visit you when we get back.”

  “After I’m released from sickbay and before I’m incarcerated in the brig?” He smiled to let her know he was joking. The captain wouldn’t put him in the brig, so he was probably safe until they landed on Dethocoles again. Granted, that wouldn’t be that long a time, but he would enjoy his freedom while he had it.

  “Yes, will there be a window of opportunity in there?”

  “I certainly hope so.”

  The captain was waiting by the airlock when they approached, so Treyjon reluctantly lowered his arm. Given Sagitta’s indifference toward romance, he would probably find hand-holding in an enemy spaceship inappropriate. He probably found hand-holding anywhere inappropriate.

  “It smells in here,” a man in a uniform instead of combat armor announced, ambling out of the airlock and onto the freighter. Lieutenant Zakota. “I knew I should have had Lieutenant Asan fly this bucket back.” He seemed to notice Sagitta standing by the wall, and Treyjon expected his demeanor to grow quieter and more respectful.

  But Zakota only grinned at the captain and pulled out something oblong and wrapped in hide out of his pocket. He unfurled it to display his wood carving tools and a piece in the middle of being worked on.

  “Making this one for you, Captain. The gods spoke to me and informed me you were going to need a lot of luck this month.”

  Treyjon expected Sagitta to snort and wave Zakota toward the bridge, but his expression grew rueful instead.

  “How much will it cost me?”

  “I could never charge my captain for a luck talisman, no matter how much effort I put into carving it and how much of my vast shamanic power I poured into it. But I’d take some fortified wine. Or a couple extra days of leave. Or maybe a good word on my report. I’m hoping for a promotion, you know. Lieutenant Commander Zakota. Doesn’t that sound fine?”

  “Can I just pay you?” Sagitta asked.

  “I’ll send you an invoice once it’s done, sir.” Zakota saluted him, then ambled toward Treyjon and Angela. “What happened to you, Lieutenant? It looks like one of your svenkars got loose and chewed you up.”

  “Because I’m injured or just in general?” he asked, wondering just how bad he looked if everyone was saying that. Maybe it was a wonder that Angela had kissed him.

  “I’m not sure. It might help if you combed that… that.�
� Zakota waved toward Treyjon’s hair before heading up the corridor. “A serious stench,” he announced to nobody in particular as he disappeared around the corner. “I’m going to have to work extra hard to infuse this totem with my shamanic powers when the entire ship smells like a svenkar den. Aluluei’s balls, is that a Zi’i body? Extra hard, I say.”

  “I’m sure my invoice will reflect that,” Sagitta murmured and headed into the airlock.

  “Sir?” Treyjon asked, stopping him. He glanced at Angela. “Did your meeting with the archons finish in a satisfactory manner?”

  “Satisfactory? No.” Sagitta also looked at Angela, his expression grim, then kept walking into his ship.

  “Does that mean we’re not going to be allowed to go home?” Angela asked softly.

  “I don’t know,” Treyjon said. “I hope not. I mean, I’d like you to stay and become a trainer and work with me, but you should be able to go home and visit your family whenever you want.”

  She swallowed and whispered a raspy, “Yeah.”

  All night, she’d been strong, not worrying about all the trouble they’d gotten into—and made for others. But for the first time, moisture gathered in her eyes.

  Treyjon put his arm around her and guided her onto the Star Guardian ship. He didn’t know what else to do.

  14

  When Angela returned to the rec room on the Falcon 8, the ship once again docked on a platform at the space base, she walked in with the green-haired Ensign Bystrom escorting her. He didn’t come inside, but from the way he shifted to the side of the door before it closed, it looked like he would be standing guard outside once again.

  “Prisoners again,” Angela murmured bleakly.

  The captain hadn’t appeared happy when he’d admitted how his meeting had gone, but that didn’t really change anything for Angela and the others. Just because the Star Guardians were reluctant prison guards didn’t mean they wouldn’t do the job.

  She wiped away the tears that had been threatening ever since Sagitta’s words confirmed what she’d suspected. She kept thinking of her parents and her sisters and the farm back home. When she’d gone to college in Flagstaff, she’d been ecstatic to leave what she’d often considered a stifling, boring life behind. But now, at the thought of never being able to return, she realized how much she would miss everything and everyone. She would happily pick a hundred rows of lavender right now if it meant she could hug her parents and have ice tea and Oreos with her sisters. That had been a regular ritual when they’d all still lived at home. Maybe that was the reason she missed Oreos over all the other foods that this strange place lacked.

  “Angela,” Juanita called from the sleeping area.

  A dozen cots had been pulled together in a circle, and almost all of the women were seated around Juanita, Indigo, and Katie. Tala seemed to be missing, but Angela wouldn’t be surprised if she had been pressed into sickbay duty to treat poor Treyjon again. He kept taking a beating while protecting her. And he kept trying to take the blame for tragedies that she caused.

  A hot tear escaped her eye and ran down her cheek as she imagined him being punished for the ambassador’s death. What would his people do to him? Throw him in jail? Hang him? She had no idea what the judicial system was like here, but she couldn’t imagine that anyone would simply forget that an ambassador from an enemy race had been killed. What if this ended up starting some war?

  “Come join us,” Juanita called again. “We’re planning our escape.”

  Her eyes gleamed as if that were something that would be fun and adventure-filled, like a ski trip to the Alps.

  “Are you supposed to announce that so loudly?” Angela wiped her eyes as she walked over to the cots and sat next to Katie, who leaned forward, eyes intent.

  Maybe Katie thought she could fly a spaceship home if they got ahold of one. Was flying a spaceship a lot different from flying an airplane?

  Angela wondered how everyone here had learned about the results of the captain’s meeting. Not that the possibility hadn’t been hinted at before. Early on, Sagitta had said he couldn’t promise they’d be taken home because he had to obey his orders and go with what his government decreed.

  “I think the Star Guardians are busy dealing with all the trouble you and Treyjon created,” Juanita said. “You should fill us in on that by the way. Orion is our only spy, and he’s not a Star Guardian, so he doesn’t get all of the gossip. Just some of it.”

  “Do big, hulking soldiers with tattoos and giant bow guns really gossip?” Angela asked.

  “Of course they do,” Juanita said. “And they’re really more like law enforcers, from what I hear.”

  “Ah, no wonder then.”

  “I’ve known lots of big, hulking men who gossip,” Katie said. “The guys I go off-roading with can’t stop talking about each other’s gym habits, their girlfriends, and who’s a cheap bastard.”

  “Why do you hang out with them?” Indigo asked.

  “Because they know all the kickass Jeep trails and have spent way more to build their rigs than I ever will.”

  “Did that answer my question?” Indigo asked Juanita, who shrugged back.

  “You’re such a city girl,” Katie said.

  “Here’s the plan so far.” Juanita leaned forward, clasping her hands in front of her. “Orion has a ship of his own for bounty hunting. It’s not huge, but he thinks we can all fit on it if we don’t mind squeezing and if it’s not a long trip. The problem is that the government people here ordered Captain Sagitta to keep us on this ship until they’re ready to transfer us off to who knows where. And it sounds like that could be as early as tomorrow. Sneaking out of here is going to be hard.” Juanita nodded toward the door. They couldn’t see the ensign, but there was little doubt he stood on the other side. “Also, Orion’s ship is halfway across the galaxy in some system called… Lupi Something-or-other. So we basically have to sneak aboard a passenger ship heading in that direction, and that might be tough with, uhm, how many of us are there?”

  “Forty-three,” Indigo said. “Would you like me to run the odds of us sneaking forty-three people off this ship and aboard another one without anything resembling money? Not to mention the difficulties we would face once we boarded his ship?”

  “Would it be soul-crushing?” Juanita asked.

  “I think so.”

  “Then no.”

  “Wouldn’t Orion be labeled a criminal if he smuggled us away from the Star Guardians?” Angela asked.

  “Yes, but he’s okay with that,” Juanita said.

  Angela arched her eyebrows.

  “Because they’re in love,” Katie explained, “and he would do anything for her.”

  “I don’t want him to become a criminal,” Juanita said. “And I don’t even want to go home permanently, but I know everyone here wants to get home, and I need to at least check in with my parents before I go somewhere else. I told him he could hide out on Earth and live with me until his people stop looking for him. And then we can take his ship and go off and have adventures.” There was that gleam in her eyes again.

  “Live with you?” Angela asked. “You already have three roommates.”

  “Yes, but I have a plan about how Orion can make a living on Earth, so we can get a house by ourselves until it’s time to leave.”

  “Saying he’s going to get a reality TV show of his own as a bounty hunter isn’t really a plan,” Indigo told her.

  “I’m sure we can make it happen. Just look at him. He’s so much sexier than that Dog guy who had his own show.”

  Angela rubbed her face. This scheme sounded harebrained and impossible. It would also involve her leaving the first man she’d met who approved of her ambitions to be a professional dog trainer. Or svenkar trainer, as the case would be. She wanted to go home, too, but a knot formed in her throat at the idea of never seeing Treyjon again. She’d barely met him, but… she didn’t want to give him up before she could know him more. Much more.

  The rec ro
om door slid open with a soft hiss, and Angela flinched when Captain Sagitta walked in. Orion came behind him, a concerned expression on his face. It might not have been a good idea for Juanita to have spoken so openly.

  Tala walked in third, and Angela wanted to pounce on her for information about Treyjon, but she had a feeling the captain was going to speak first.

  The women shared uneasy glances with each other. Juanita met Orion’s eyes across the room, and he shook his head slightly. What did that mean? The jig was up?

  “Good,” Sagitta said, stopping at the edge of the cots. “You’re all here.”

  Tala sat down at the outer edge of the circle and frowned at the two men. Angela had a feeling she had come down on her own rather than with them. She didn’t look like she had any more clue about what was going on than Angela did.

  “As you already know, I’ve spoken to my government representatives and argued that you be taken home, and that if they object to that, they should at least put it to a vote among the citizens. This isn’t a tyranny. It’s not supposed to be.” His jaw clenched.

  His logostec beeped before he could explain further.

  Frowning, he tapped a button and read something on the display that came up. He tilted it so only he could read it.

  “Huh.”

  “I hope that’s a pizza delivery notification,” someone mumbled. “Do they have that here?”

  “Pizza has to be universal,” someone else said.

  “This is about you,” Sagitta said, turning to Orion.

  “Oh?” Orion asked warily, and he glanced at Juanita.

  Had the captain learned about his plan to sneak the women away aboard his ship?

  Sagitta tapped his logostec. “Sending it to you.”

  Orion received a beep of his own and read the message. “I… don’t understand.”

  “It’s not in Zi’i,” Sagitta said, some of his habitual dryness returning for the first time.

  “But I haven’t done anything.” Orion frowned at Sagitta. “Did you say something about me?”