Liberation Read online

  Life was full of risks. She was going to have to take one to get off this planet. “All right, Balastar,” she said, putting her laser away. She tucked one of the distorters into the crumbling cubby behind the table. She hated leaving one behind but could only port between two devices. Without leaving one, she would be unable to port out if there was trouble. She could return here if she needed to, and it was only a few mile hike to a main road. “But this is how it’s going to play out. We’re going to get the rest of the devices—all I can get to.” She scowled, picturing the demolished warehouse, and wondered if the Torogs had found any. “And then we’ll see what the spaceport is like. You do anything suspicious, and I’m gone. Got that?”

  “You’re the boss,” he said with a killer smile. “Do you have any idea where the Torogs took Thomas and Brie?”

  “None. And it doesn’t make sense. They don’t capture us. They either kill us, or at best, send us on a one-way trip back home.”

  “Perhaps that means there’s a chance they’re still alive.”

  “I hope so. Okay, Balastar. Let’s go.” She liked the sound of his name. The moment he stepped in range, she opened a portal to the first of three stashes. The trip took only a second or two, but it was enough to feel his psi. They had some serious chemistry. They made three successive ports quickly, with her gathering up hidden distorters at each stop. It was impossible not to feel his psi when they jumped. Damn, but it was nice. She made sure they finished up closest to the spaceport. With this many units on her, she’d be projecting a strong signal—easy for the Torogs to find. They were still a good five miles from the port, so she flagged a ride. Hailing a lift was fairly safe this close to the center. She wouldn’t have chanced it farther out. There were a lot of desperate Florins on this planet.

  The driver was a small, brown-skinned native and wore the ubiquitous gender-neutral tunic. The rain hadn’t reached this far, a good thing since the cruiser was an open-air type. Given the stains on the seats, it probably would have reeked had it been enclosed. At least the gravity modulator worked. The vehicle didn’t appear able to get more than a few feet off the ground, but it was a smooth ride.

  Kit pulled a hat out of her bag, twisted her hair up, and shoved it inside, taking care to tuck loose strands out of sight. While fidgeting with her hair, she pondered her would-be rescuer. He was unlike any transport captain she’d ever met, and she’d met a few.

  The traffic was getting thick, and her stomach tensed as they approached a small group of Torogs standing off a side street. She looked down and sideways as they passed. They were one of the oddest life forms she’d ever seen. Grey leather skin, their barrel shaped bodies were crisscrossed with leather straps that held their weapons. Short knee-length skirts covered their private bits, or at least that’s what she figured. Both their elbows and knees had ball joints and their feet were thick-skinned pads with suction cups. They were truly disgusting and had been after her for years. She wasn’t about to let them get her now. As their cruiser jetted past, one of the aliens became agitated and turned in circles, holding a metal device.

  Kit leaned toward Balastar and whispered, “They picked up my signature, and there’s more ahead.” She lingered a moment longer. Damn if he didn’t smell good, too.

  He turned toward her, his gaze on her lips before addressing the driver. “Turn left and drop us off four blocks down.”

  They were in a highly industrialized sector with wide alleys and heavy traffic. A few small food shops dotted the area.

  “Do you have any credits?” Balastar asked.

  “Of course, why?”

  “Let’s get you to that shop over there. Buy food, snacks, whatever, just stay out of sight. I’ll go and check out the spaceport.” The cruiser landed, and Balastar moved to get out.

  “Wait.” She grabbed his arm, appreciating the feel of muscle under her fingers. There was an easier way for her to get to his ship. If she gave him a distorter, she could port directly inside. But could she trust him?

  Frack. It wasn’t like he could do anything with it. She dug in her bag and pulled out a device along with a contact card. “Take this to your ship. My number’s on the card. Message me when you’re in. I’ll port through.”

  Balastar slipped the items in his pocket. “We’ll be out of here soon.” He walked her across the street and saw her safely inside before he left for the spaceport.

  Kit strolled down the nearest aisle. The place was small and cramped. She might as well stock up on some of her favorite food. No telling what flyboy would have on board. The store was clean enough, but the closed-in space made her nervous. As much as she wanted to rush, she needed to take her time. She didn’t want to finish before Balastar was in his ship. The minutes crawled by, and she was about ready to pay and get the hell out when her com pinged. He was onboard. She paid and gathered up her bags. Outside she did a quick scan of her surroundings. She hurried to a side street, turned the corner, activated the distorter, and stepped through to Balastar’s ship.

  “Frack me.” Kit turned in a circle. She stood in the most luxurious bridge she’d ever seen. “This is a transport ship?”

  ***

  Balastar enjoyed the look of amazement on the woman’s face as she took in his bridge. She wore her backpack slung over one shoulder and grasped two bags from the shop.

  Her eyes were wide as she scanned the console. It was top of the line by any standards and pretty unheard of for a transport ship. Even though she stood a good five feet away, her energy radiated through him. He doubted she was aware of it. “You haven’t told me your name yet.”

  When her shoulders relaxed and she laughed, he felt it in his gut.

  “I haven’t, have I? Call me Kit.”

  The strand in her hair was purple now. He wondered if it was a genetic mod or a natural trait. He was about to ask if Kit was short for something when movement caught his eye. A group of Torogs where swarming the tarmac outside. They were uncoordinated, searching, and didn’t appear to have a destination.

  “Time to go.” He launched himself into his captain’s chair and motioned for her to take the seat next to him. She shoved the bags up against the console on the floor, and they strapped themselves in. She moved with confidence, adjusting the restraints with ease.

  Balastar pulled up the flight reports and fired up the engines. “We’re not going to get clearance out of here anytime soon.” He hailed the traffic control link. “F5 control, this is echo foxtrot zulu six five niner. Ready to assume position for delta vector two one.”

  “What are you doing?” she said, her voice a hiss. “That’s the most congested vector off the planet.”

  “And because of that, it has the highest hold pattern.”

  The side of her mouth pulled upward. “You’re not going to use the vector.”

  He winked at her. She was a pilot all right.

  “Are you sure this shiny bucket can handle it?”

  “She can handle it. Can you?”

  “I guarantee I’ve done more vectorless in-and-outs than you’ll ever do.”

  Interesting. The only reason for not using the atmosphere-controlled vectors was either to avoid detection or the need for speed. The vectors created channels on and off planet that were free of atmosphere and gravity. It made for a much smoother ride and vastly decreased the wear and tear on a ship, not to mention fuel consumption. He wondered exactly what she did with that ship of hers. It was a discussion for a later time. Three Torog ships were following their lead. If you had to go vectorless, Florin 5 was a good planet to be on. They had open policy, which meant no one would try to shoot them down when they broke from the queue. It also meant the Torogs were free to do the same. It was the double-edged sword of being on the fringe of civilized space. Sometimes the lack of structure and enforcement worked in your favor. Sometimes not.

  The traffic control voice came over his com. “Echo foxtrot zulu six five niner, you’re clear. Assume your position at an altitude of eight miles, m
arker twenty-eight on vector two one. You’re approximately forty-three minutes to departure.”

  “Copy that.” Balastar cut the com. “Not today we aren’t,” he said as they lifted off and set a course for the vector queue. He projected a live feed from his nav computer. It showed a string of ships coming and going.

  “We’ve got four Torog ships approaching our vector.” Kit zoomed out the display. “They appear to be splitting up… That’s good. They don’t know for sure where we are. Don’t let them get too close.”

  “I know.” Balastar kept an eye on the nearest Torog ship as he primed the engines for an unvectored exit from the atmosphere. “Another thirty seconds, and we’re ready.”

  “Frack, look,” Kit said, pointing to the screen.

  Torog ships blasted up the lines of each vector, including theirs. They were coming too fast. Before Balastar could get the required thrust needed, the Torogs sailed by them, scanning his ship as they passed. They slowed immediately and turned around.

  Balastar watched his controls. “Three, two, one. Hold on.” As soon as his engine hit the green line, he pulled out of position in the queue and shot straight up. The Gravity Modulator was engaged, but the ship had to make a series of course corrections in order to avoid satellites and other low orbit objects. Nanites in the seats activated almost instantly, causing the cushions to wrap around their bodies and heads, preventing whiplash. He gripped the arms of his chair and waited. Two and a half minutes later, they were clear of the planet’s debris and headed to the closest interstellar portal.

  “We’ve got three following. Make that four,” Kit said. “What do you think?”

  Balastar pulled up the specs for the Torogs’ ships. “We’ll outgun them before we’ll outrun ‘em.”

  “Can you take on four?”

  “Do we have a choice?”

  “Maybe.” Kit flipped through nav charts with manic speed. She stopped and backed up. “How big is it?”

  Her psi pulsed, and he grinned. “Pretty big.”

  She looked him up and down. “I meant the ship. How long is it?”

  “Two hundred and twelve feet.”

  “That is long.”

  Another pulse of pleasure. He had an overwhelming urge to kiss her. What was it about her that drove him to distraction?

  Kit swiveled her chair and faced him.

  Balastar met her halfway, their faces inches apart.

  The brown of her eyes held specks of gold. She leaned closer and brushed her lips against his ear.

  He hardened in response.

  “And exactly how wide is it, Balastar?”

  He turned his head and took a bite at the hollow of her shoulder, sweeping his tongue in circles on her skin. He wanted to taste her. Everywhere. He sucked hard, leaving a mark.

  She leaned into him, a groan escaping her lips. “How wide?”

  “Fifty-five feet.” His adrenaline was cranking.

  “Yes!” With rapid breaths, she swung back to the console. “We’ll just make it.”

  As much as he wanted to continue their banter, staying alive was probably the better choice. “You have a plan?”

  “Depends.” She gave him a serious look. “How good are you?”

  Another pulse left him desperate to free his member. “I can take her anywhere.”

  “How long can she run silent?”

  “A week, maybe more.”

  Kit hesitated a moment before sending the data to his com. “We’ll make the portal. Take us to these coordinates, and I’ll guide you from there.”

  The four ships were closing in, so Balastar didn’t argue. They hit the portal gate at full speed. The contents of the grocery bags went flying as the seat cushion held his body secure. The ship jerked them forward as the gravity modulators adjusted and everything airborne hit the floor. The seat released him, and he pulled up the AI. It did a systems scan—minor damage, nothing they couldn’t deal with, but he was going to have to do some significant maintenance checks after this. Twelve minutes and thirty-six seconds later, they exited the portal and found themselves right in the middle of an insanely dense asteroid field.

  “What the frack?” Balastar hit the reverse thrusts and adjusted course. “Did you get your coordinates mixed up?” When he scanned the field, it became clear. This wasn’t a naturally occurring phenomenon. Fields like these were created specifically to provide a place to get lost in. The metal-rich asteroids made it impossible to scan for ships. You had to know where to hide, or it was useless. The woman was getting more interesting by the minute.

  Kit pointed to a massive rock. “There, quickly. Get behind it and kill any systems you don’t need for maneuvering.”

  No time to argue, Balastar followed directions with as much speed as he dared. Navigating the field was touch and go. Smaller asteroid impacts echoed inside the ship. And a few not so small. He angled behind the rock as the first Torog came through.

  “They’re out of the portal,” Kit said. “Now hurry. See that one?” She pointed starboard and down.

  “Shaped like a hammer?”

  “Yes. Get under it. There’s an opening at the base of the handle. It’s going to be tight.”

  “I like it tight.” Balastar rode a high from the combination of adrenalin and chemistry. He hit the thrusters and dove for it. They had one shot. She was either crazy or brilliant, he didn’t know which, but their lives depended on her being right and his ability to control this ship.

  “You might want to slow down,” her voice rose as she grasped the armrests.

  “Not yet.” He flipped the ship as they went under the rock, then he braked hard and nosed her into the cavern. He decreased their speed further, tweaking the thrusters as the hull scraped against the sides.

  “There’s a large area around that bend. We’ll be out of sight. Set her down and lock. Then kill the systems.”

  It took less than fifteen seconds to go silent.

  “You did it,” Kit said, sounding amazed. “I can’t believe you flew something this big with that kind of precision.”

  Balastar made sure they were anchored and all external lights were blocked before unfastening his belt. His heart pounded, and he was hard as the rock he’d just penetrated. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t enjoyed the hell out of that little escape. He didn’t know who this woman was, but he was ready to find out. The contents of the bags lay scattered around the floor. There appeared to be a large amount of chocolate. Morvian, to be exact.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Kit stood and tried to ignore when Balastar repositioned the bulge in his pants. It was sizeable. Without thinking, her psi brushed against his. The blast of pleasure rocked through her. She grabbed a bag and started picking up her purchases.

  Balastar knelt beside her and reached for a large box. “Can’t argue with your taste in chocolate.”

  She snatched the box from his hands and dropped it back in a bag. “Paws off, big boy. If you’re nice, I’ll share. I haven’t had any in months.” Corvak didn’t like chocolate and always gave her a hard time about how much it cost.

  They finished picking up the mess and Balastar insisted on taking the bags from her. He’d literally insisted, leaving her flustered. She wasn’t used to such gentlemanly behavior and didn’t know what to do with her hands.

  He smelled good—earthy and spicy. She couldn’t tell if it was cologne or just him.

  “Come on. I’ll show you around.” He led her out of the bay and down a sparkling clean hallway. “The lift there goes to the holds below deck. I have five containers and over nine thousand cubic feet of space for hire.” They turned left at the end of the hall.

  “In here is the workout room.” Balastar activated the lights with his psi. It was a small space, but it had everything you needed for resistance and cardio.

  “Nice.”

  Next, he led her to the third door on the right. Shifting the bags to one arm, he said, “Put your hand on the panel.”

  She did as he ask
ed. He placed his hand on top of hers. The heat radiated up her arm, and her psi pulsed with pleasure. She caught his eye, and he grinned at her before removing his hand. She wanted that touch back. She and Corvak weren’t bonded or anything, and she had a serious attraction to flyboy here. Sleeping with a stranger wasn’t really her style, but something about this man was irresistible. Her med nanites were good for three more years so there was no danger of pregnancy or bugs of any kind. She’d enjoyed their flirting during the escape. Danger enhanced everything, good and bad. Knowing they could be caught at any moment just added fuel to the fire. Maybe that’s all this was. Attraction amplified by adrenaline. Maybe.

  “This is your cabin,” Balastar said.

  She shot a signal to the panel with her psi, and the door opened. A small but immaculate room greeted her. She stepped inside and tossed her backpack on the bed. “Are you sure this a transport ship?”

  “I’m sure. Come on. You haven’t seen the best part yet.”

  She followed him out and back the way they’d come. The curve of his ass and muscular thighs obvious under the tight material of his pants. Gods, she was acting like a school girl with this one. On the other side of the hallway from the bridge, double doors opened as they approached. Kit couldn’t believe her eyes. “Frack me.”

  Balastar raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lips at a sexy tilt. “You say that a lot.”

  “More so around you, it would seem.” Which sounded like an invitation. Hell, maybe it was. The tension was building with every move he made.

  Directly ahead, a floor to ceiling view port showed the black interior of the asteroid. Plush chairs and a couch were situated to take in the view, which at certain times in space, would be spectacular. Not so much now. A thick throw rug covered the hardwood floors, and the walls were decked out with what looked like real oil paintings of starscapes. The left side of the room harbored a galley and a large dining table.

  Balastar took the bags to the kitchen and made space in one of the cupboards. Once finished, he leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. He was one hell of a good-looking man, and her psi buzzed with his attention. She knew the Torogs could find them at any time. She was out of character and more than a little out of her mind as she walked over to the galley.