“Where did she go?”
“She was interested in the Bacarilen transport docked over in the Blackstock.”
“Damn it.” She’d have to pass through Aggen Street to get there. Yara wouldn’t get taken without a fight, but flesh traders were masters at striking without warning. People just disappeared. Boom, gone.
If she made it through that den of shadows, then he had a new problem. If she’d signed onto a Bacarilen ship, it was a good possibility she’d be home within hours. He couldn’t allow that. How would he get her off the ship? She wouldn’t come willingly, and the Bacarilen would probably back her up. They were close trade allies with Azra.
“I have to stop that ship.”
“I can stop it right now, no problem,” Maxen admitted. “I’ll just call in the circle.”
Cyn didn’t want to bring pirate law into this, but he didn’t have any other choice. He couldn’t stop the ship on his own.
“What will you hold them on?” he asked.
Maxen shrugged. “Doesn’t matter, we’ll think of something when we get there.”
“Do it,” Cyn urged, knowing Maxen only had to think to send a message to the pirate enforcers.
“Already done.”
“Polarx, can we borrow a runner?” Cyn asked as Maxen stepped up next to him. He didn’t want to damage the converter with more of Maxen’s driving.
“Ah! My pleasure. I’ll add it to your docking fees.” He tossed a code key to Cyn, but Maxen snatched it out of the air with the unnatural speed of his right hand.
“I’m driving,” Cyn insisted.
“You drive like an old woman.” Maxen jogged over to the younger and unburdened runner and pulled himself into the driver’s seat. Cyn grumbled as he took the passenger side and strapped himself in.
After a harrowing ride through the mineral markets, they arrived at the Blackstock. The Bacarilen ship still perched on the western end of the dock. Cyn felt a rush of relief burn down his back and arms. They didn’t have much time.
Maxen brought the runner to a skidding stop, and Cyn leapt out as if the thing were on fire.
A small transport lifted off from the far ends of the docks. The roar of its engines sent a turbulent hot wind through the open platforms. Cyn strode with purpose and military bearing as he approached the Bacarilen ship.
Three crewmates worked on stowing the last of the shipping containers and securing the lift. One of them spared Cyn an unimpressed scowl.
“Ship’s due to launch. We’re closed to trade,” she stated once the roar from the transport died down.
“How about stage passage?” Cyn asked. “You have anyone traveling with you?”
The girl locking the straps on a container watched him with a superior expression.
“We haven’t taken on any guests this trip. Why? You looking for passage?”
Liar
. Cyn hoped the circle arrived soon.
A fourth Bacarilen, a tall woman with a high-collar coat, stepped out of the shadows. “Is something wrong here?”
“We need to speak with the captain,” Maxen demanded.
“She’s busy. I’m the second in command of the ship. We’re due to launch.” She clasped her hands behind her back, but Cyn caught a glimpse of some deep red welts forming on her wrist. Cat scratches.
Bacarilen never kept pets.
“Have a run-in with an Azralen korcas cat?” Cyn asked.
The woman straightened her shoulders and sneered.
“Yara’s on this ship,” he stated.
Suddenly the docks filled with the roar of fan engines as six hoverans flew over the crowded market and floated above the docks, their pulse cannons trained on the ship. Down draft from the spinning fans that gave the circular angrav ships their propulsion threw clouds of dust into the air. It provided cover for the runners descending on the ship like wolves. Cyn shielded his eyes as the hoverans surrounded the ship and eased to the ground in a lopsided circle. The pirates poured out of the vehicles, leaving one man behind in each craft to man the guns.
“What is this about?” the scratched-up Bacarilen demanded.
“We’re holding the ship,” Maxen announced.
“On what charge?” Her eyes narrowed, then looked calculating as her lips turned up in a manipulative grin.
“Why don’t you tell us?” Maxen stalled.
The crowd of roughly thirty pirate enforcers closed ranks. Their faces were hard, diverse, an eclectic mix of everything the human races had to offer, but their expressions were all set with the same resolve.
Maxen drew a sono. It became an integrated part of his metallic hand as he pointed it at the Bacarilen. “Bring out the Azralen, and we won’t search the ship.”
“What is going on out here?” a shrill voice rose above the crowd as the Bacarilen captain descended the ramp leading up into the cargo hold.
“Where’s the Azralen?” Cyn stated.
“What Azralen?” she retorted. Voices rumbled, filling the docks as more merchants and traders entered the open space from the mineral markets. Everyone seemed to want a part of the spectacle.
“Commander Yara.” Cyn searched the woman’s hands for any scratches. Maybe he was mistaken. “Polarx said he directed her to your ship to book stage passage.”
“I haven’t seen any Azralen here,” the captain snapped a little too quickly. She turned on her heel and strode back toward the ship with the stiff spine of someone expecting to be struck in the back.
“She’s a liar,” someone shouted from the back of the crowd. “I saw the Azralen pass by my stall.”
The robotic voice of a trader with an old interpreter-collar added, “She boarded the ship.”
“I’m inclined to believe the witnesses. What do you think, Cyrus?” Maxen asked. He lifted the sono to the captain. The crewmates that had been out on the lift jumped forward, but the second in command held them back with a single wave of her hand.
“She’s on board,” Cyn affirmed.
“Search the ship.” As soon as Maxen gave the order, a large man with deep brown skin and a wicked-looking DEC rifle rushed up the stairs, followed by at least fifteen others.
“Care to confess now? It may lighten your sentencing,” Maxen offered the captain.
“Go to Nek,” she snapped at him.
“I hear it’s lovely this time of year.” Maxen smiled a cruel smile.
Cyn crossed his arms. He had to wait for the circle to finish the search, and it was killing him. If he stepped in and interfered, he’d have to get mixed up in the trial. Right now this was Maxen’s game. He only had one concern. He needed to find Yara, throw her pretty ass over his shoulder, drag her back to his ship, and then weather the wrath of her fury.
Maxen went still for a fraction of a second. “Cyrus, they’re having a problem in the corridor. They need your help.”
It was all the invitation he needed. He ran up the ramp and entered the crowded cargo bay. Bug zipped up beside him and landed on his shoulder.
“Where have you been?” Cyn asked, as he passed by row after row of neatly stowed and aligned shipping containers.
Bug’s aura pulsed in heavy exhausted heaves. He rattled off something about Maxen and his driving before shutting down. Cyn stashed him in his belt. A loud crash sounded in the corridor ahead of him, followed by a feline war cry and a string of foul curses.
“Tuz!” Cyn shouted.
He ran over the plush red carpeting of the opulent Bacarilen ship until he came to a jam of bodies in one of the corridors. Tuz growled, hissed, and one of the pirates came away holding a bloody hand.
“Tuz, where’s Yara?” Cyn demanded.
The cat howled then darted off down another corridor. Cyn pushed through the crowd and followed, entering a richly decorated lounge.
A scrap of mismatched rug from the cargo bay lay askew by the couch. Tuz looked at it, spun and hunkered down on it, his yellow eyes slanting with feline concentration. He swished his dark tail and let out a low moan.
The Bacarilen were practically genetically programmed to be obsessively neat. Not a single line in the room was askew, and something from the cargo bay didn’t belong in the captain’s lounge, though it would probably just look like a throw rug to anyone who didn’t know the Bacarilen as well as he did.
He lifted the rug to find a damp spot and a tiny chip of pottery, barely noticeable to his naked eyes. The Bacarilen had rushed to hide the mess before they could clean it to their stringent standards.
Cyn pulled Bug from his belt. Holding on to the bot with his left hand, he traced his finger around Bug’s edge to wake him up.
Bug groaned, beeped, then rattled what could only be interpreted as mechanical snoring.
“Get up,” Cyn urged. “I need to you analyze this.”
Bug blinked his eye and wobbled off Cyn’s hand. A green light flared out, scanned over the spot, then Bug prattled off the contents of the liquid.
One ingredient stood out among the others.
Floran
.
The drug would have knocked the drinker out cold.
Rubbing his hand over the carpet, he inhaled deeply. The subtle scent of the kiltii extract Yara had used to bathe her wound rose into the air.
Cyn brought his knuckle to his lips, unable to breathe for a moment. What had they done to her?
Tuz rubbed his round face against Cyn’s thigh.
He picked up the cat, put Bug back in his belt, and stormed out of the ship.
“What happened in there?” Maxen asked. His mechanical hand hadn’t wavered at all, the sono still pointing ominously at the heart of the Bacarilen captain.
“Yara was on the ship. This is her cat.” Cyn held out Tuz, but the cat refused to be dropped on the ground. Instead he dug his claws into Cyn’s bracer and held on. Cyn pulled him back into his body. “She was drugged with floran.”
“Where is she?” Maxen demanded of the captain as he took a step forward. Another pirate grabbed the Bacarilen from behind, pinning her arms behind her.
“You can’t prove anything.” The captain tried to pull out of the grip of the pirate, but he held firm.
“I can,” the second in command offered.
The whole crowd turned to her.
“Melor,” the captain warned. “You’re my sister.”
The second arched a haughty brow then turned her back on the captain as she faced Maxen.
“The Azralen tried to book passage on this ship. She was taken to the personal lounge of the captain. The captain then left the ship and met with a Kronalen man on Aggen Street. He came on board and unloaded a shipping container.”
An angry rumble of male voices permeated the docks. Flesh trading was a prime offense on Gansai.
The captain tried to pull her hands free again. “That’s a lie. She’s after my ship.”
Tuz hissed in Cyn’s ear.
His collar
.
“Maxen, check the recording systems on the cat’s collar. Tuz is trained to spy,” Cyn offered, pulling the collar over Tuz’s thick head.
Maxen holstered his sono and took the collar. He turned it over and over in his hand before connecting to it through his fingers.
A disembodied voice rose over the crowd.
“
Another round
?” A malicious chuckle rang out. “
I think I prefer to negotiate with Palar. She’s been very generous and promised me much more profitable contracts as soon as she ascends the throne of Azra
.” The unmistakable voice of the captain projected clearly from the collar. “
Did you enjoy your drink? It should make your trip to Krona more comfortable
.”
“
Tuz, run
.” Yara’s voice sounded weak and panicked. Cyn felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. “
Run!
”
Disgust churned through his body while his raw rage clouded his vision. Cyn drew his sono, and it warmed in his hand. He pointed it at the captain. “I’m going to shoot her,” he warned. His voice came out as a low growl.
He felt Maxen’s natural hand on his shoulder. “That won’t help us find her.”
He tried to take a deep breath to quell his rage but it flooded his blood like a white-hot fire. The thought of Yara subjected to the cruelty of the Kronalen sickened him. He had to get her out. It was completely irrational. He knew it. But he couldn’t stand the thought of her pierced by slave bands, raped and killed in the betting pits. She had never known darkness or shadows. She’d fight, but they would kill her. Physically and mentally, the slavers would destroy her. He couldn’t think about what it would mean for the revolution. That thought slipped out of his mind like poisonous mercury.
She
was in danger, and he couldn’t stand it.
“Where is she?” His voice boomed over the crowd, making the Bacarilen crewmates flinch.
The second answered. “The Kronalen left on a ship called
Ti Kataf
. It launched just before you arrived.”
No.
The ship would be in macrospace by now and untraceable.
How were they going to find her?
Cyn dropped Tuz to the ground and tried to focus, tried to search his mind for anything that might help him find her.
“Take this one to the pits,” Maxen ordered, nodding at the captain. “We’ll organize a formal court later.”
His words were like a low buzzing in Cyn’s ears. There had to be something. He searched the endless blur of knowledge for anything he could grasp. He had never heard of the ship. He needed more information. Where could he find it?
The pirates hauled the protesting captain to one of the hoverans as the second in command spoke to the crowd. “I’m ashamed of Brill’s despicable behavior. I’ll be sure to tell Azra the unfortunate circumstances of Commander Yara’s loss.”
What?
If the Elite on Azra knew Yara was lost, her rivals would pounce on a chance at the throne and the Elite would be thrown into chaos before the revolution was ready to strike.
He couldn’t let that happen.
“No,” he shouted. Maxen looked at him, confused.
“We don’t know if the second in command was in on this or not. For all we know she drugged Yara to frame the captain so she could assume control of the ship. The cat scratched her. She was there.” Cyn turned his sono on her.