Dancing in the Darkness Page 2

  Raakor huffed low and looked between Starr and Charlie before asking, "Is it true?"

  "It's probably bullshit," Charlie whispered, then took a last, huge swallow of her drink, finishing it. "We should get back." She stood up when yet another curious individual neared their table, and she groaned at the damn species.

  "Humansss rarely come here," a Gyr said. "What'sss left of them." The Gyr's scaly, iridescent skin reflected the bar's light, and it blinked with dual eye slits.

  Charlie opened her mouth but was cut off by Starr's chair suddenly scraping against the stone floor. At her side, Starr rose nearly a foot higher than her. Normally Charlie could handle any insults, slurs, or attacks about her dying kind, especially with her quick wit and trigger finger. But tonight, she allowed Starr to handle it, and amusement glowed in her blue eyes.

  "And there'll be less of you left if you bother us further." Starr easily commanded the Gyr's attention, along with the others in the bar. She was taller than most races in the galaxy, and her bulk intimidated many.

  Raakor made his presence known next, standing almost as tall as Starr. He fisted his hands at his sides.

  Charlie sighed inwardly at the Gyr's glare on Starr. A low hiss from the Gyr told her that it was assessing Starr in finer detail. As the heartbeats passed, she knew the Gyr was submitting to Starr's dominance, and it somewhat disappointed Charlie. Over the years, she had grown accustomed to Starr's aggressive personality and rarely yielded to it.

  "A Kalman," the Gyr said, in disdain.

  Charlie flinched when the Gyr actually used the slur for Starr's mixed species background. She finally reached into her jacket for the handgun in case a brawl started between Starr and the Gyr. Surprisingly, she caught a dangerous smile from Starr.

  "Call me that again, and I'll rip your tongue out." Starr raised her hands, ready to launch herself across the table.

  The Gyr hissed again but took one step back and said, "There's a bounty on you half-breeds."

  Charlie folded her arms with the black laser gun in front of her chest. "And why do you think she's still alive?" She smiled when the nervous Gyr looked at her again but with wide eyes. The Gyr was most likely surprised by her skill with the Jero language. "I'd back off." She tilted her head as the Gyr reversed farther, nearly bumping into Raakor, then finally hurried off without another word.

  Starr snorted low.

  Charlie lowered her arms but gingerly touched Starr's stiff shoulder and said, "We should go back to the ship." They left the bar shortly after paying the tab and going directly to their vessel.

  The ride back to the Pacifica was thick with tense air and Starr's heavy breaths. Charlie rubbed the space between her eyes and realized the next day was going to be hell. Of all the times for Starr to flare up, right now was the worst. The Celestial Fates were toying with them, and it was the only explanation for such horrible luck. Charlie considered asking Starr to stay behind on the ship tomorrow, but her imagination had already played out the fight.

  Once back on the ship, Starr stumbled out of the confines of the shuttle with Raakor at her side. She clutched her lower belly but allowed Charlie to touch her forehead.

  "You're burning up," Charlie whispered. "Help me get Starr to her quarters." Together, she and Raakor managed Starr's bulkier weight and went to the cabins.

  Once inside, Starr slid out of their arms and into the waiting bed.

  "I'll take care of her," Charlie ordered Raakor, who slipped out of the cabin without a word. She then came to the bedside and offered, "I'll stay with you."

  "No. I'll be fine after I take the meds." Starr could barely get up, still clutching her stomach.

  "Just stay there."

  For a tick, Starr nearly argued but then backed off and sunk into the bed. They both knew the reality of Starr's flare-up, thanks to her Kalmar father and a human mother. From birth, Starr faced one wall after another, never finding any peace from her hybrid body. After barely escaping Kander as a kid, she only found direction after she met Charlie and became a mercenary.

  Long ago Charlie had learned about Starr's flare-ups, which were similar to an Omega's heat but slightly more subtle. Like an Omega's heat, the flare-up was both painful and taxing on Starr and left her in a sexual haze, always on alert for a potential mate. Unlike an Omega, Starr's flare-ups tended to mostly follow a schedule like a human female's menstruation cycle. Thankfully, medication helped dull them and make them bearable.

  After shaking her head, Charlie rubbed her forehead and gently said, "This is bad timing, Starr."

  While on her back, Starr growled low and closed her eyes. "It'll be fine."

  "Raakor and I can handle the meeting." Charlie tensed when Starr was suddenly upright.

  "No," Starr snapped, and her dark eyes drilled into Charlie. "If you think I'm letting you handle a planet full of fucking Alphas, then you're—"

  "I'm not going alone." Charlie rushed into the bathroom, locating the medicine and filling a cup of water from the sink. "We can handle it." She held out the items to Starr.

  "Raakor is good with a wrench, not a gun," Starr hissed before popping the pills and washing them down with the water.

  Charlie clenched her teeth because she knew it was true. She brought Starr into her crew because of her brawn and common sense. Raakor was indeed large and looked menacing, but he preferred to keep a low profile during fights. He was an excellent mechanic, co-pilot, and back up.

  After a sigh, Charlie tossed the cup into the sink with a dramatic force and started for the front door. "Just don't fuck it up for us." She was pushing her luck by challenging Starr, who was slipping into days of sexual frustration and pain.

  "Don't you fuck it up," Starr countered.

  Huffing low, Charlie nodded once and nudged the door open. "See you in a few." She went to her quarters and was happy to have the space from her now overbearing crewmember. The damn flare-ups were a mess, but she accepted that part of Starr when she took her on. They both had important skills that they brought to the team, and Charlie damn well hoped that Starr could focus enough during this mission. They stood to make a lot of stills and earn some fame at the end but only if they succeeded.

  Chapter 2

  Together, Charlie and Raakor controlled the Pacifica from the cockpit and carefully maneuvered the ship closer to the beautiful planet named Kander. The terrestrial sphere was one of the three other planets in the tiny solar system that had two stars. Distantly a floating, metal object reflected the solar light from the twin suns, but Charlie did her best to ignore it. Once they had the ship floating near Kander's moon, they stared at the planet that awoke unspoken memories.

  Kander was over ten percent larger than Earth, by Charlie's estimation, or at least what once was Earth. Kander also had more landmass, which made it a greener and browner planet than Earth with its once vast oceans. At either pole were soft white caps of water, locked as ice for millenniums. But the most unusual feature about the solar system was the dual suns, where one sun acted as the primary and the second, weaker one hovered near it.

  "How long until the meeting?" Starr asked as she entered the cockpit.

  Raakor was quietly using the touch panel from the co-pilot's seat.

  With a glance at Kander's local time on the control panel, Charlie replied, "In forty-five minutes local time." Starr's heavy sigh made Charlie reconsider saying something about her joining them on Kander. "Maybe you should—"

  "No."

  The cockpit was deathly still, and Charlie barely halted her eye roll. Forty-five minutes was just enough time to get down to the ground, but none of them were rushing to the shuttle bay. She climbed to her feet and ordered, "Come on. I hate to be late."

  Starr led the way to the shuttle and sniffed when Charlie passed her. "You showered?"

  Charlie knew it was rhetorical and merely replied, "I'm not taking any risks." They knew how damn easily the Kalmar could scent anything, from an alien to a bug. The last thing they needed was for the Kalm
ar to think that Charlie, Starr, or Raakor were lovers simply because of their close quarters. The tight confines of their ship forced much of their scents to comingle. Starr's hated that the hybrid scent was enough to stir trouble, but mixed scents with a hybrid could cause a war. They couldn't leave the possible job to chance, no matter how small.

  Raakor pretended to sniff himself but questioningly looked at Starr.

  "You smell like oil," Starr promised. She rolled her eyes when Raakor flashed a grin, then climbed into the vessel's open door and buckled up for the ride to the planet below.

  Charlie patted the outdoor hull, which was looking a little shabby. They really needed those stills. But like the Pacifica, the shuttle was a sturdy piece of thick alloy, which had always been enough to protect them. Once loaded into the craft, Charlie brought it to life with the panel's controls.

  Starr leaned away from the co-pilot door as it came down and locked them in securely. "Can't you let it fly in auto this time?"

  Raakor chuckled from the back.

  "Please," Charlie argued, "when have I ever put anything in auto except for cruising?" She knew the real problem for Starr, even though she'd spent most of her life in outer space, it was against her nature. Starr's feet were bred for solid ground, and the shuttle's lift from the bay floor was a reminder of her jitters.

  Slowly, the shuttle reversed out of the bay with the spaceship's automated assistance. Once clear of the bay, the Pacifica's bidoors started sealing back up. The craft continued reversing farther from the ship to gain more clearance, then it banked to the left and headed for Kander.

  At the helm, Charlie switched on the communications system and searched for a specific channel. "Not sure they monitor a frequency," she muttered but still made an attempt. "Kander, Kander this is the shuttle Pacifica. Our estimated time of arrival is twenty minutes," she reported over the frequency. A long silence followed, and Charlie nearly switched off the communication system, but a static sound gave her pause.

  "Shuttle Pacifica, this is Kander. You are cleared to enter Tarrak airspace. I am sending you the exact coordinates for landing."

  Charlie exchanged a look with Starr before she replied, "Roger that, Kander." She hesitated because she was unsure if the Kalmar on the other end even understood what "roger" meant. She shook it off and said, "We will call back when we enter Tarrak airspace." She shut off the mic and watched the landing coordinates pull up on the control panel. "Damn. I guess they beefed up air and space security." For the most part, the Kalmar stayed grounded on their planet and rarely took interest in air or space travel.

  Charlie sighed at Starr's quiet demeanor, but she knew that the flare-up and the meeting were wreaking havoc on Starr. She refocused on the trip to the planet and increased the throttle. She hated being late.

  Starr began shaking her right leg, and her nervous energy multiplied incrementally as they grew closer to the planet.

  With an eye roll, Charlie reached to the panel and opened her favorite music list.

  Starr glanced at the list and growled when Charlie picked one. "Char—" She was cut off by the sudden noise in the cockpit.

  Charlie already felt better and could ignore Starr's negativity. She danced in the pilot's seat and tilted the nose down, the music burning in her blood. While she had sung every lyric, she tapped on the panel and locked on the coordinates to Tarrak.

  Starr groaned heavily and bitterly stared out the side window.

  Early on in their relationship, Starr often turned off the music in Pacifica's cockpit, commencing a war every time. Charlie would get mad and argue with Starr until one of them demanded Raakor to pick a side. He always declined to get pulled into their ridiculous fight. Ultimately, Charlie would simply restart the music but blast it through every speaker in the entire spaceship.

  Once in the city of Tarrak's airspace, Charlie radioed ahead that they were only three minutes away from landing at the specified location, then focused on the last of the flight. She enjoyed traveling in outer space, but she loved flying in a planet's atmosphere. Landings required specific skills and the more difficult the landing site, the better. "The louder the music, the better the landing," Charlie hummed.

  Starr glared at her singing boss but made no effort to mess with the music.

  "Whatever it takes," Charlie sang out the title and pointed at Starr. She was hardly surprised by Starr's annoyance.

  Charlie placed her other hand on the yoke when the shuttle entered half a march above the landing spot. She flipped a few switches and decreased the throttle, all while singing the song and focusing on the environment around them. Their angle toward the ground rapidly ate away the distance until the landing point was visible to Charlie.

  Starr leaned to the side and peered out the door's window, fidgeting with her lectra gun.

  With expert skill, Charlie navigated the craft to the landing spot and allowed it to slowly sink down, then hover over the spot. After a few more taps on the control panel, she lowered the shuttle to the grass and started the shutdown process.

  Normally Starr would jump out once on solid ground, but she only unbuckled and sat there until Charlie was done.

  "Ready?" Charlie looked at her two crewmen.

  Starr sighed and replied honestly, "No." But she tapped the door's control and climbed out when it started to open.

  Raakor, who sat behind Charlie, also activated his door.

  Charlie shook her head at Starr's attitude. She exited the vessel too and smiled at the stern features of the four Kalmar guards, assuming the others were near Starr. Their laser rifles were noteworthy and also new technology, at least to the planet. "We're here to see the High Commander," she attempted in Kalmarese, their native tongue.

  The four soldiers remained silent and still, other than their breathing, which confirmed they weren't statues, at least. It was hell of a welcoming party to such a beautiful planet.

  Damn these Kalmar, Charlie silently cursed. She had expected them to at least be surprised by her ability to speak Kalmarese.

  "They're not in charge," Starr said.

  Charlie glanced across the shuttle's roof at Starr's similar situation. Starr's guards were just as motionless except for one, who had a slight curl to his lip. The guards were well aware of Starr's hybrid background after a single sniff, and one guard was having a hard time hiding his displeasure.

  "But I am," a strong, thick voice announced.

  Charlie cut her attention to the Kalmar who had stepped through the guards. She straightened herself in hopes to gain an inch of height against the Kalmar's taller stance. However, it was fairly pointless as the Kalmar towered over her.

  "I am Commander Gaveston." For a moment, he stood in front of the two foreigners, who had been called to his planet. He had a shaven head and broad shoulders, and he wore slightly tattered clothes, including a jacket. Behind his back, a sword's hilt protruded next to his head, but his main weapon was the laser handgun tied to his hip. His tattooed forehead wrinkled slightly when he studied the guests.

  Charlie took one step closer to Gaveston, who was clearly an Alpha among the Kalmar. She received the offered arm and shook firmly. "I'm Charlie, and this is Raakor." She indicated to her left, then signaled Starr, who joined her side to protect her. "And this is Starr." She ignored his narrowed eyes glaring at Starr. "We're here to meet with the High Commander."

  "I am well aware," Gaveston stated. A low rumble shook in his chest when he turned his attention to Starr next. He raked his gaze over the despised hybrid, but he managed to appear neutral to her presence. "Follow me."

  Charlie, Raakor, and Starr were guided through the field, and the eight guards shadowed them. Several yards from them were two crude hover trucks, and Gaveston indicated for them to get into one. Once seated on the truck bed's bench, two guards joined them. All the other guards loaded into the second truck.

  It took nearly fifteen minutes to get to the city's entrance. The ride was quiet, and the landscape was changing as autumn ap
proached the planet. Charlie enjoyed the chance to soak in the blue sky, bright sun and secondary, weaker sun, and one of the slightly lit moons in the daylight. The city's neighboring fields had new grain, and a few farms had cattle. Sadly, it reminded Charlie of her lost planet and her past that she'd emotionally boxed away when she went to space. Her nostalgia died sharply when the capital city of Tarrak's dark stone-face filled her view. A shiver raced down her back, and she looked over at her team.

  Starr seemed stoic, but most likely her stomach was a mess. Unlike Charlie, she expressed hating the damn planet more than anything. As they passed the open gates, she sniffed the city's air that had hundreds of scents, including motor oil, horse, food, and fucking Alphas.

  Raakor, for his part, appeared indifferent but still studied the changing landscape.

  Eventually, the trucks arrived at a gated stone building that was round and at least fifty floors high. It had a Greco-Roman feel to it, yet it had been clearly modernized at some point. Its paler stones contrasted against the city's dark stone buildings giving it a godly appeal. It was also the only structure in the city that had a small lawn around it with trees. Charlie recalled it was named the Great Tower among the Kalmar.

  One by one, everybody filed out of the trucks and followed Gaveston to the main entrance of the Great Tower. He ordered several guards to stand post and only two remained with them.

  Charlie paused at the threshold of the entrance to the Great Tower and gathered her strength. She moved forward and passed the open wooden doors into the one place that few entered.

  The main entrance opened into a grand foyer with a soaring ceiling that went nearly to the top of the building, but they had no time for a tour. Commander Gaveston bore to the left and guided the mercenary team to the steps that spiraled up the entire fifty or so floors of the building—if one was interested in walking them all. At the second floor, they stepped off the landing and went into a small, bare room. Momentarily, an elevator opened and allowed them to go up to the very top.

  With a glance at the number of floors on the touchscreen, Charlie realized that there were actually fifty-three floors to be precise. The Kalmar race was superstitious, and fifty-three was revered as a lucky number. Upon coming out of the lift, it was hardly a surprise to Charlie that the fifty-third floor was the throne room for the High Commander.