Captive - Cheryl Brooks Page 0,13
out a breath. “You weren’t moving that quickly when you were fighting with that Herp—or with me.”
“Didn’t need to,” he said with a grin. “Most of the time, I try to keep a lid on the speed. It’s more effective when my opponent isn’t expecting it.” Releasing her hands, he stepped back. He might’ve been smiling, but he didn’t lower the weapon a single millimeter. She couldn’t blame him for that. Had she been in his place, she wouldn’t have trusted anyone, either.
She heaved a sigh. “So what do we do now?”
“That’s up to you, Klara. I can walk out of here alone or you can come with me—bring your gang if you like—but I am not staying here any longer than absolutely necessary. All I want is to get my ship back and get the hell out of this sector—maybe even the quadrant—and never come back.”
Oddly enough, his goal was similar to hers. Klara had been hoarding credits for as long as she could remember. The trouble was, even on this filthy little planet, nothing was free, except her current digs in the Barrens. Anyone who’d ever claimed it as property was long dead.
Oh yes, she would leave Haedus Nine without a backward glance. But first, she wanted to find out who’d sent a pack of Nedwuts after her and wring his neck. As it happened, she had a pretty good idea who it might have been.
Still, the Nedwuts hadn’t succeeded in capturing her, and if this Moe character was being truthful, she didn’t have to live this way any longer. Going after Pelarus would only be for revenge, however satisfying that revenge might be.
“You don’t really want to stay here, do you?” he prompted.
“No. I don’t.” The problem was trust. She had no reason to trust this man. But by the same token, she didn’t have any reason not to trust him.
He took another step back. “You go ahead and think on it for a while. I’m in no hurry.”
“Where is this Terra Minor?”
“It’s in the Terran Quadrant,” he replied. “Nice planet with a decent climate and comparatively little crime. You could buy a farm or start a business there. Or you could go to Rhylos. Trust me, you’d fit right in on Rhylos. The place is crawling with Davordians.”
“I’ve heard enough about Rhylos to know I’d prefer to stay away.” Everything on Rhylos was beautiful and expensive, and with the no-holds-barred approach to commerce, most people left that world considerably poorer than when they arrived. “If this wealth you speak of is real, I have no desire to lose it as quickly as I acquired it.”
“Okay, then. What about the Davordian homeworld?”
“That’s a possibility, although my mother never regretted leaving there to work in a space-station brothel, if that tells you anything.” The Davordian government consisted of multiple monarchies that were constantly vying for power, and given the promiscuous nature of the natives, fucking one’s way into influential positions was practically a global pastime. Unfortunately, palace intrigues and petty rivalries often led to murder. Her mother never explained why she left her homeworld, but Klara could only assume self-preservation had been a factor.
He nodded as though he understood. “I get that,” he said. “But there isn’t a space station in the entire sector. How did you wind up here?”
“My mother thought giving birth to her children on a planet with more room to run and hide than on a space station would be safer, but with limited funds, this was as far as she got. Unfortunately, since Haedus Nine is the only inhabited planet for hundreds of light years in either direction along one of the lesser trade routes, the spaceport still gets a fair share of interstellar traffic. The bounty hunters found us anyway.”
They’d had help, of course. Branethan Pelarus had made no secret of his desire to bed her mother, Delaroh, in the wake of that attack. Klara had always suspected him of using the Nedwuts to rid Delaroh of her children, perhaps thinking that without the reminders of the Zetithian man with whom she’d been so enamored, he might actually stand a chance. He was wrong. Delaroh had often remarked that no man, especially not a Vessonian with slanted ears and hideous cranial ridges, could possibly compare with a Zetithian.
Several years passed before another Nedwut had aimed a shot at Klara, only to hit her mother when Delaroh attempted to shield her sixteen-year-old daughter from the pulse blast. In the ensuing chaos, Klara had