Fenturi Fate (Spacestalker Saga Book 1) (9 page)

By the Dark World, could none of them understand his reluctance to embrace a part of himself he’d been taught to hate all his life?
Though he despised Zedrax, he’d always secretly longed for the bastard’s acceptance, if not his love.
Ren didn’t understand this weakness and cursed himself for his inability to be so needy, pacing about his spartan room.

How confused and troubled was he that he still wished Zedrax had shown him even a quarter of the love he’d felt for his legitimate, royal son, Zebram?
T
he old man had treated Ren like filth his entire life.
Ren hated the Fenturi blood that had made him so undesirable, even as he tried to hate the man who’d treated him so poorly.

He sank to his bed and held his head in his hands.
He’d hunted and killed many rebels and traitors over the years, individuals that posed a threat to the Bylaran way of life.
He’d even killed, though in battle, a group of Fenturi raiders, though few remained to plague Vinopol very much anymore.

His trained reaction to anything Fenturi was to grab a sword or rifle and expel it from this existence.
But now the
new
king had ordered him to
capture and protect
a Fenturi.

His head pounded, pain and confusion making it difficult to function.
Such weakness is unworthy of you
. Shake it off, damn it.
With threat of the Ragil Horde upon them, Ren couldn’t afford any vulnerability.
He had to get a hold of his irrational fear, that the Fenturi blood in his veins would somehow make him less than he was, into the animal Zedrax had always known him to be.

The fear would be his undoing, and he had to get a handle on it.

In all of his years on Bylar, no one had mentioned his ties to the Fenturi for fear of Zedrax’s reprisal.
And as he’d grown, no one mentioned it out of fear of Ren.
But his crew knew and respected him.
That the Hams now hinted at his Fenturi blood spoke volumes about their unease.

Castor had been just as vocal. A more solid friend none could think to have, Castor had always respected Ren’s desire not to discuss his background or ties to King Zedrax, a man whom Castor had disliked intensely.
But even Castor knew they needed to use every weapon at their disposal to fight the coming Horde.

Ren sighed, knowing what he had to do even as he hated himself for it. Though he willingly took advantage of his Fenturi abilities in battle—swiftness of motion, greater strength, the ability to see in the dark—he used those gifts to protect his men, to defend Vinopol. He’d never openly admitted to himself he was embracing his Fenturi nature.

He did so now and felt as if his entire world shifted beneath him.
Ren closed his eyes and felt a strange humming deep within. The force of ancient animal instinct raged throughout his body.
He focused on his mission and envisioned a fellow Fenturi, pictured the Mari’s mark in his mind’s eye, and willed the being to come to him.
Seething energy surrounded him, and to his shock he felt a blast of starfire in his consciousness.

The legendary blue fire skill that few Fenturi possessed had the ability to strike fear in the hearts of Legionnaires everywhere. Even Ren had been less than willing to engage a Fenturi wish such abilities, but now, experiencing the starfire personally, he didn’t know what to think.

His imagination, or something real inside him? Either way, the lure of power had snared him but good.

He opened his eyes and caught his breath, puzzled that he found it so hard to breathe, to think beyond feeling that starfire in his veins.
Trying to calm himself, he panted lightly as he called to Castor over the intercom.

“Everything okay, Cap?”

“Fine, I think.” Ren took another deep breath and let it out, slowly.
“Set a course for Rovi.”

***

Dare stood, her arms akimbo, and stared down at the small mining facility in the clearing a hundred feet below them.
She and the others had donned black clothing and dark glasses to combat the Rovi sun’s harsh glare.
T
he dark clothing absorbed the heat necessary on the cool planet, while the clothing and glasses protected their bodies from the sun’s harsh rays.

Roc remained bareheaded and without eye protection, though he wore black to match his companions.
His white eyes glowed brightly as he spoke in common tongue to the weapon smith nodding at his words.

Roc turned back to them and managed to stroke Mra’s soft fur before she hissed at him for his forwardness and settled back at Dare’s side.

The past week everyone had seemed tenser than usual. Mra usually stayed on board the ship in the absence of a jungle planet, but even the feline had accompanied them today. Dare wondered if the pressure was a byproduct of her using her starfire, as if she’d somehow projected her nervous energy on those around her. Yet no one save Jace had mentioned the starfire blast, and she had to wonder if she simply imagined strain where there was none.

Roc smiled, and Dare felt better. “The smith consented to sell us not only the replacement blasters he set aside earlier for a Legion patrol, but he’s also throwing in a set of phasers, Blue rifles, and a Nexian transformitter and four beacons at half the normal asking price.”

Dare and Jace stared at Roc with amazement.

Shea grinned. “Don’t let him fool you into thinking he’s a master bargainer. The smith’s his cousin.”
She jerked her thumb at the Rovi smith.
“Isn’t he cute?”

Roc frowned down at her before the smith said something that caused Roc to laugh and reply in kind.

Dare sat on a rock cluster while Roc did his thing.
She did like being off the ship, but she didn’t like having to be on Rovi for even a short while.
The planet attracted too many Legionnaires due to its varied stock and quality of weaponry, not to mention its excellent raw materials that the Bylarans routinely used in building their ships.

The
SpaceStalker
had been made with Rovi resources, though the Nexians had crafted its design.
Both Dare and Jace had agreed when she’d purchased the ship that the fates must have been clamoring for her to have it.
The Nexian who sold it to her had been oddly taken with her blue eyes and had refused to haggle, practically giving her the ship with pride.

Dare ignored Jace
—
he’d been studying her for over a day now
—
and watched Shea.
Shea watched Roc when he wasn’t looking, and raw emotion pained her golden gaze.
But whe
n Roc’s attention returned to her, the little Lynaran looked as mischievous as ever.
 

Odd. What do you make of that?
she sent Jace.

No idea. Keep an eye on them…while I keep an eye on you.

Light and fire, let it go already.

Sure. Just as soon as you explain why you’re so full of energy these days.

Dare turned from him and waved at Shea to join her. When Shea did, she leaned closer and whispered, “So when are you and Roc finally going to stop aggravating each other and mate?”

Shea stammered on a noncommittal response as Roc rejoined them.

“Shea?
Are you okay?” He wrapped a large gray hand around Shea’s slim arm.

Dare watched the two of them together, marveling at the huge gray alien’s gentle touch whenever he dealt with the petite yet fiery Shea.

“I’m fine.”
She glared at Dare before smiling up at him.
“Just fine, Roc.
You go ahead and visit with Amron.”
She motioned him back to his cousin.

“No,” Roc said sadly as he stared down at the mine below them.
“I’m not welcome here. We should get going soon.
Amron mentioned that a Legion ship had been sighted and reported in the area moments ago.”

Dare turned and met Jace’s leery gaze. They nodded, both thinking that they didn’t need to be found and questioned by a Legion ship, not with twenty-thousand in currency on board
and
a stolen gravity machine, compliments of a Legion starfighter.

“Use the teleporter,” Dare ordered.
“Jace, you, Shea and Mra head back and get our systems online.
I’ll stay with Roc while we finish up the transaction. We’ll pilot back to you in the speed shuttle.”

Jace nodded, attached the small teleporter beacons to his clothing and Mra’s fur—delicately, as the cat hissed at him—and waited while Shea attached her own.

“Okay, you’re set for the
SpaceStalker
.” Roc held the black box, his new toy, a Nexian teleporter that would cost a small fortune on in the legitimate market.
“See you in a few.” His gaze lingered on Shea before he flipped the switch.

He and Dare watched as the three figures shimmered and vanished.
Then she turned to him and smiled.

 “What’s that look for?” Roc asked with a Rovi frown.

Dare reached up to rub his bald head and saw his eyes widen in surprise.
“I’m so glad you’re a part of the crew.”
She meant it.
“I don’t know how we survived without you.”

Roc’s chest puffed with pride.
“I don’t know either,” he said with no small amount of arrogance.
Then he turned his stare toward the area where the ship hovered high in the atmosphere.
“I hope they got there safely.”

Dare rolled her eyes.
“Shea’s fine, Roc.”

“I meant everyone.”

“Sure you did. Don’t sound so defensive, big guy. We all know it’s only a matter of time before you and the thief hook up.” She pushed him back toward his cousin while he stammered is denial.
“Go ahead and finish socializing while he gets our stuff. You know you want to. I’ll wait here for you.”

Roc leaned over to tussle her hair, then bussed her on the cheek.

“Hey.”

“You’re bossy for one so little.”

“Roc—”

“Aye, aye, Captain. Socializing to commence,” he said with a grin and rejoined his cousin for some last minute chatter.

Dare moved toward the edge of the mountain on which they stood and looked down at the miners below her.
She could see several workers moving above ground and wondered how many were truly human and how many merely concealed their alien features.

She knew of Roc’s history and his sorry dealings with the humans on Rovi.
Having been huge but mostly human looking until he’d reached adolescence, he’d been prodded constantly by the small humans in his mining village. Unfortunately, he’d been taunted one time too many and came into his alien strength while accidentally killing one of his tormenters.

Instead of investigating
why
Roc had been pushed so, his neighbors sought to banish him, which on Rovi was a fate worse than death to the closely-tied familial race.
Roc had found his place in the outlaw world of the space pirates, but he insisted on keeping his Rovi form, denying his human half.

“I don’t ever want to forget where I come from,” he’d said when asked why he moved about in such a conspicuous form.

Why did humans always strive to isolate and hurt anything different, she wondered?
Yet bigotry wasn’t isolated to humans.
Every race had its problems.
She thought of the Nearworlds and their lawlessness, the Motherworlds’ arrogance in their proud lineages.

She glanced at her timepiece, a wonderful item that automatically adjusted to local time depending upon planetary coordinates.
She and Roc had already overstayed their allotted stay by ten Rovi minutes. A shiver swept her, and she had a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach that they needed to leave.
Now.

“Come on, Roc,” she called and stared at the red and lavender skies around them.
“We need to leave.”

Roc left his cousin with a hearty thanks and moved the bulk of their supplies to the shuttle, his large arms able to carry five times what Dare’s Fenturi strength could not.

Once on board the shuttle, they sped toward their ship.
They docked, to Dare’s great relief, and she left Roc to unload their supplies so she could join Jace and Shea in the control room. Time to plot their next coordinates.