Interstellar Service and Discipline: Victorious Star Page 2

  A midnight brow shot up. “Let me get this straight; you’re being reassigned even though you saved the ship?”

  Victoria nodded and gave him a bitter smile. “It seems that the Adamant’s second in command did not appreciate it.” The little shit had bitched and moaned non-stop until her spineless coward of a captain agreed to relieve her from duty, just to shut him up.

  “The Adamant’s second in command?” He frowned. “What happened to the ship’s captain?”

  Victoria bit back her grin. “Fainted.” She sincerely hoped her voice would carry enough to spread that little tidbit far and wide. As revenge went, it was rather small and petty, but hey, revenge was always petty.

  “The captain fainted?” A smile almost curved his lips. “You’re joking.”

  Victoria shook her head. “No, sir, fainted dead away. The commander yelled ‘abandon ship’ and carted them both to the escape pods. As soon as they cleared the bridge, I took over the helm and got the ship out of your interesting little trap.”

  “And they relieved you of duty.” Ravnos snorted. “Actions like that make me wonder how the Imperium got to be an Imperium to begin with.”

  Victoria often wondered the same thing, but as an officer of said Imperium it would be in poor taste, not to mention downright dangerous, to say it out loud.

  Ravnos sighed. “Again, I apologize for the unprovoked attack from my crewman.”

  Victoria didn’t know what to do; now, the enemy captain was apologizing -- to her.

  Ravnos gave her an assessing look. “But it seems that I am now in need of a senior nav-pilot.”

  “That man was a senior nav-pilot?” She shook her head. “I find that hard to believe.”

  Ravnos raised a black brow and speared her with icy amusement. “There was some doubt as to his credentials.”

  Victoria snorted. “I bet fully half the ship’s guidance functions were offline.”

  Ravnos raised his chin. “You Imperials almost lost every ship to us anyway.”

  Victoria couldn’t tell if he was angry or amused. She decided on amusement and indulged in a tight smile. “Not one of us would have survived if you’d had a proper nav-pilot, Captain. Pardon me, but your tactics were brilliant. The only reason we made it was because our reaction time was better.”

  He nodded. “Thank you, and you’re right. I’ve rarely seen a ship respond as fast as the Adamant.”

  Victoria felt her cheeks heat under his praise. If this keeps up, I’m going to have a bad case of hero worship.

  His gaze sharpened. “Since you are between assignments and I am in need of a nav-pilot, why don’t you serve on board my ship?”

  Victoria stared at him in astonishment. He wanted her, an Imperial officer, to serve on his mercenary ship? Was he out of his mind? He couldn’t be serious.

  His gaze remained steady, and something chilled in its depths.

  Victoria found his simple stillness unnerving. Shit. He was serious. She bit back a less than judicious comment. “I’d be honored to serve you, Captain,” she said softly. “But I really don’t think that would be a good idea. My superiors might not take it well if I, ah…” She flinched. How the hell do I say this without insulting him?

  “Work for someone who just got finished blowing the hell out of fifteen warships?” Bitter humor shimmered in his gaze. “You do have a point.”

  Victoria examined the toe of her boot, profoundly disappointed that she’d had to turn him down. “Shame, too; you’re a damn fine captain.”

  He raised a dark mocking brow. “Think so?”

  “If you were Imperial, I’d be begging to serve under you.” She peeked up at him. The shadows deepened the sharp lines of his face. Bloody Fate, he’s fine. She blushed and looked away. On second thought, maybe it was better this way. He was far too striking for her to serve effectively. She’d be too busy fantasizing about what he’d look like naked.

  “I see. Then perhaps if we do this another way?” He glanced to her right.

  “What?” Victoria looked up, sensing sudden danger. She felt a fist slam into her side, then the electric burn in her cybernetic system. They’d used a stunner on her. She dropped to her knees in surprise. They can’t mean to just take me? Darkness smothered her thoughts.

  She never felt the deck.

  Chapter 2

  Victoria snapped awake, slumped in a chair. A vicious bolt of pain stabbed through her temples. She shut her eyes and groaned. Her delicate navigational implants did not appreciate the power-surges caused by stunners. She leaned forward in a futile attempt to relieve the agony in her skull, but jerked to a halt. Her wrists were fastened to the arms of the chair.

  She winced past the pain in her skull and eased back into the chair to sit upright. The weight of her sword-belt was missing from her hip. She felt disturbingly naked without it. She looked up. Ah, shit, please tell me this is a bad dream.

  Less than six feet in front of her, Captain Ravnos sat comfortably in a red velvet chair with one booted leg extended over a cushioned hassock. His cape and long coat were gone, showing the sleeveless brocaded waistcoat and the black lace cravat knotted around his high-collared silk shirt. He’d propped his elbows on the arms of his chair and folded his fingers together across his lap in an attitude of amused patience, though he lacked even the hint of a smile.

  From the look of things, she sat in the middle of his public appointment chamber. Expensive rugs covered the deck and a real wood table sat by his chair. His desk wasn’t in front of her, so it had to be behind her, but she was in far too much agony to turn her head that far to see. However, she could see through the broad window to her left. They were still docked in the spaceport. Let’s not panic yet. Maybe this isn’t what it looks like.

  “Are you in pain?” Ravnos inquired politely.

  “Yes, sir,” she replied respectfully and slowly twisted her wrists, testing the cuffs’ strength. A quick glance showed that they were designed with heavy-weapon cyborgs in mind. Regardless of her physical augmentations, she was not going to be able to break them. Damn it, damn it, damn it!

  She saw him flick a finger and sensed movement to her immediate right.

  A crewman with a hypodermic in his hand bent at her side.

  “Whoa, hey!” She tried to jolt away, nearly dislocating her shoulder. The cuffs held her fast to the chair.

  Ravnos snorted. “Relax, it’s for the headache.”

  The crewman pulled her coat’s lapels wide, then unfastened the buckles on the collar of her flight-suit.

  She eyed the needle with extreme doubt. “Isn’t an injection a little archaic?”

  “We are somewhat backwards out here past the Imperial rim,” Ravnos said dryly.

  The crewman pressed a finger to her pulse and stabbed her bare throat.

  Victoria hissed. She hated needles.

  The crewman stepped away, and out of sight.

  Victoria winced. That needle had stung. She looked around for her sword, but didn’t see it. “Where’s my sword?”

  “You won’t be needing it.” Ravnos dropped his foot on the rug and leaned forward. “Your new uniform is in your quarters. You will begin your duties as senior nav-pilot as soon as you have dressed.”

  Bloody Fate, and damnation… Victoria winced. This was exactly what it looked like -- a kidnapping. Bitter betrayal burned in her stomach. And I really liked him too. She glared at him with all the fury in her throbbing temples. “With all due respect, sir, you’ve kidnapped me. I do not owe you duty.”

  “The original term for taking on unsuspecting crewmen is ‘pressed’.” Ravnos’s expression chilled to bitter winter. “And you will serve to the best of your abilities, or you will be disciplined.”

  Victoria bared her teeth in a feral grin. “Then you’d better space me now!”

  “Great Mother,” a voice drawled with amusement. “What have you brought home this time, Captain?”

  Victoria looked sharply to her right.

  A tall, slender m
an wearing an ankle-length captain’s coat with an awful lot of silver braid lounged in the doorway. His skin was moon-pale; his frost-white hair was pulled back into a long straight tail exposing gracefully pointed ears. His blue eyes, the color of the heart of a flame, roved over her breasts straining against the buckles of her black coat, then focused on her exposed throat. A lethal smile graced his full lips. “Whatever it is, I approve.”

  Victoria couldn’t stop staring. What the hell is a skeldhi doing on this ship? They hate humans!

  Ravnos tilted his head toward her. “First Lieutenant Victoria Stark, this is my executive officer, Commander Seht.”

  Victoria looked from the very human captain to the decidedly not human, perhaps even anti-human, second in command.

  “Number One,” Ravnos continued, “this is our new senior navigation pilot.”

  “Senior navigation pilot?” The skeldhi commander stalked in with poisonous grace and circled Victoria. He looked over at Ravnos. “What did you do with our last nav-pilot?”

  Ravnos’s ice gray eyes focused on Victoria. “Our current nav-pilot shoved a sword through his throat.”

  Victoria ground her teeth. “My sword wasn’t the only blade shoved through him. I distinctly remember yours sticking out of his chest, Captain.”

  The skeldhi raised a silver brow. “Spirited. I like that.”

  Victoria stared at the circling skeldhi, stunned. This close up he was breathtaking. His blue gaze seemed deep enough to drown in and his mouth looked…kissable. She looked away and shook her head. What am I thinking?

  Seht smiled. “I see, by the cuffs, that you haven’t changed your method of procuring officers.” One of his hands brushed across her shoulder.

  Victoria stiffened. “What?”

  The skeldhi stopped at her elbow. “Oh, he grabbed me the same way.” His smile deepened. “It’s a habit of his.” A long nail traced a path along her jaw.

  Shivers followed his tracing fingertips. She took a sharp breath and jerked away. His touch was doing odd things to her already disturbed insides. “I can’t serve him. I’m an Imperial Officer.”

  The skeldhi snorted. “Not for long.” He turned and strode gracefully toward Ravnos.

  Ravnos tilted his head toward her. “We’re negotiating her terms of service now.”

  Victoria jerked at her cuffs. Negotiating, my ass. At least her head didn’t hurt so much. Whatever was in that needle worked fast.

  Ravnos focused on his executive officer. “Did you need something?”

  The skeldhi abruptly straightened and his expression lost its humor. “No, captain. I’m off duty at the moment. I thought I’d drop by to see your new acquisition.”

  Victoria focused on the commander in astonishment. Was that fear? As a skeldhi he was biologically far stronger and faster than the average human. Moreover, his body language spoke volumes about years of hand-to-hand fight training in addition to subtle physical augmentation. Technically, he should be able to twist even a heavy-weapons marine into a scrap. What did he have to be afraid of?

  “I see.” Ravnos nodded. “Very well then, you’re welcome to remain.”

  “Thank you, sir.” The skeldhi let out a soft breath.

  Ravnos turned back to Victoria. “I need you to fly this ship for a three-day mission. At the end of that time, if your orders have come through, I’ll return you to the station. If your orders have not come through, you will remain until they do. You will, of course, be paid for your services.”

  Victoria shook her head. “If I serve on your ship for even one flight, I will be court-martialed as soon as I get back.”

  Ravnos snorted. “This is not the Imperium. We do not keep those kinds of records. Trust me, no one will know you served on this ship.”

  Victoria gritted her teeth. Just what she needed, blackmail material. “You will.”

  Seht winced and took a subtle step back.

  Ravnos lunged to his feet with his sword naked in his fist so fast that even with her enhanced eyesight she hadn’t seen him draw it. “Do you doubt my honor?” His eyes blazed with frigid unholy violence. He looked like a dark avenging angel about to strike.

  Oh, that’s why the skeldhi was impressed. Victoria swallowed and dropped her gaze. She couldn’t look at his far too beautiful, far too frightening face. “No, sir, I do not.” If she’d said anything else, she had absolutely no doubt that he would have killed her right where she sat.

  Ravnos nodded. “Good.” The violence in his expression retreated as though it had never been there. He sheathed the sword and sat. “I already have your messages flagged at the station. As soon as your orders arrive, you will be returned.”

  Victoria stiffened her spine. “And if they arrive tomorrow?”

  His expression chilled. “Three days, Nav-Pilot Stark.”

  Victoria chewed on her bottom lip and shifted uncomfortably. Sometime during that last exchange, her crotch had gotten annoyingly moist. What the hell had brought that reaction on? She sighed in disgust. “I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

  Ravnos raised his brow and amusement flashed fleetingly though his expression. “No, you do not.” Moving with elegant grace, he rose from his chair and came to stand beside her, looming over the chair where she was bound. His boots didn’t make a sound. He drew the sword from his waist scabbard.

  Victoria barely stopped herself from flinching back.

  “I want your sworn word as an officer that you will serve me to the best of your abilities until you are returned.”

  He wants my oath? Victoria clenched her fists impotently. Damn him! Of all things, she had not expected a direct challenge to her honor. He was a mercenary. No one expected him to keep his promises. As an Imperial officer, if she swore fealty, she would be honor-bound to keep it.

  “Nav-Pilot Stark?” His soft voice traced an icy finger down her spine. The naked blade tapped the side of his boot.

  There was nothing she could do. She could swear and try not to betray the Imperium, or she could die. “I will serve.”

  “Excellent.” He knelt at her side and released her wrists then stepped away. “Kneel and swear.”

  Victoria rubbed her wrists and stood with as much grace as she could muster. She dropped to one knee at his feet and placed one hand flat on the deck. The black skirts of her coat flared around her. She bowed her head.

  “Chin up.”

  Victoria looked up and the edged tip of his sword touched her bare throat. She took a shallow breath and stared at Ravnos in unconcealed alarm. Her treacherous crotch grew wetter.

  An unholy smile curled his lips, and his eyes gleamed with heat. “Swear.”

  “I, Victoria Stark, solemnly swear on my honor to serve.” She took a tiny breath, and her voice tightened to an embarrassing squeak. “I don’t know your full name, sir.”

  “Captain Aubrey Laslo Ravnos of the ship Hellsbreath,” he said softly. “From the beginning, please.”

  Victoria decided against nodding. Warmth trickled down her neck. She was pretty sure that it was blood. However, her real concern was that the moisture in her crotch seemed to be soaking through her suit. What the hell is going on with my body?

  She took a deeper breath and her voice steadied. “I, Victoria Stark, solemnly swear on my honor to serve Captain Aubrey Laslo Ravnos of the ship Hellsbreath with all due honor, loyalty, and respect.”

  “And obedience.”

  Victoria’s temper flared and her teeth clenched. That was not part of the oath.

  He raised his brow, daring her to omit his addition. The blade on her throat shifted.

  Victoria actually felt the burn of the blade’s keen edge. She stubbornly kept her eyes on Ravnos’s face, but that was definitely blood dripping down inside her suit. “And obedience,” she ground out. “Until death or the captain shall relieve me of my duties. By the grace of Heaven and the glory…” She hesitated. She damn well couldn’t say by the glory of the Imperium. “And the glory of the Hellsbreath,” she improv
ised. “May I serve with distinction.”

  “Very good.” He removed the blade from her throat and stepped away.

  Victoria stayed down on her knee. According to protocol, she had to remain in that position until her new captain gave her leave to rise. She didn’t even try to stop the blood that was dribbling down her breast.

  He tugged a handkerchief from his coat sleeve and wiped the tip of the blade. The white fabric came away stained with red. “As I mentioned earlier, your uniform has been set out in your quarters by your assigned petty officer. You will report to the bridge as soon as you are appropriately dressed.”

  “Yes, sir.” Victoria flinched. The bridge! She did not want to antagonize a man with a naked blade in his hand, but the last thing she wanted was her full name announced on the bridge in front of over a dozen different people. “Pardon my frankness, sir, but we cannot use my name.”

  Ravnos glanced at her briefly. “What’s wrong with your name?”

  “I am a well-known code-certified specialist. If even a whisper gets out that I served under you, I will end up in prison.”

  “She has a valid point, Captain,” mused Seht. “Victoria Stark. I’ve heard that name somewhere before.”

  Victoria looked over to where the skeldhi leaned against the back of Ravnos’s chair. She had completely forgotten about his presence. She noted his interested expression and strongly suspected that her new executive officer was going to be a problem.

  “I see.” Ravnos sheathed his weapon then reached for a small bottle and a cloth set on the table by his chair. He poured some of the contents of the bottle onto the cloth. “You may rise.”

  Victoria rose to her feet and assumed a full attention stance, chin up, heels together, hands at her side.

  Ravnos approached her with the damp cloth in hand. His fingers brushed her throat as he tugged her suit’s collar further open. “A name,” he whispered. He unfastened the suit buckles, nearly to her heart. “I’ll keep the Victoria, but the Stark?” He daubed the wet cloth on her naked throat.

  Whatever was on the cloth smelled strongly of antiseptic, and burned like a son-of-a-bitch. Victoria clenched her fists but held perfectly still.