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part #8 of Star Breed Series
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Star Breed: Book Eight
Elin Wyn
Contents
Aedan
Myria
Aedan
Myria
Aedan
Myria
Aedan
Myria
Aedan
Myria
Aedan
Myria
Aedan
Myria
Aedan
Myria
Aedan
Myria
Aedan
Myria
Aedan
Myria
Aedan
Myria
Aedan
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Aedan
“The funny thing is, if they had bothered cutting Granny Z in on the deal, she probably would’ve given them her blessing.” Kara’s eyes gleamed as she reviewed the piles of merchandise scattered before us.
“That’s a terrible idea,” I muttered. “We’re supposed to be a force for good on the Fringe, legitimacy, something like that, right?”
“I think we’ve got a ways to go before we have to worry about being too much of a glittering beacon of civilization, Aedan,” she waved her arm at the station deck below us.
Since Lorcan had arrived back with Cintha, the Pack had made a steady push to clear out the last of the human traffickers, criminal gangs, and other assorted scum from Orem Station. Cintha’s connections with the kid gangs had been invaluable, leading right to the arms smuggling ring we’d shut down tonight.
Despite myself, I shuddered. Too much punch in a laser on a space station was a bad idea. And those idiots had been moving high-frequency cannons to the highest bidder.
“Humans. What the hell were they thinking?”
Kara shot me an odd look over the tablet she was using. “You know Doc is fully human, right?”
“Are you sure?” I shot back.
“Yes,” she answered. “You’re just grumpy because that big bald guy bled all over you when you took him down.” Her eyes narrowed. “Are you getting soft?”
“I can get as rough as any of the others,” I growled. “But this was my favorite shirt.”
Kara laughed. “You know the replicator can make you a dozen more just like it, right?”
“Of course. But that’s not the point.”
And it wasn’t. That shirt was broken in to just the right softness. I liked it.
After years of missions in every hellhole of the Fringe, a little softness was nice.
Nothing wrong with having a favorite shirt.
“Well,” Kara tilted her chin back to where the station guards were processing the prisoners. “Maybe one of those fellows can tell you where to find another shirt that has whatever mystical qualities they ruined in that one.”
Whatever.
We were done here. The station guards could wrap it up. They didn’t need me anymore, and I couldn’t wait to get some dinner and a shower.
I pulled off the ruined shirt, leaving on the vest to cover my chest, and stomped ahead.
Not too fast, though.
Kara didn’t even bother to try to match my pace. “You need to learn how to take a little teasing, Aedan.”
“No, I don’t.” But I stopped and waited for her to catch up.
She patted my arm. “I’m fine down here, you know, sort of reminds me of home.”
Kara looked around at the dark warren before us, the muted reds and orange of the pleasure district far away from this corner of the Under.
Here, there was nothing but grime, crime and corruption.
“Davien would skin me alive if I left you by yourself in the Under,” I muttered.
“Ah, well…” a bit of pink came to her copper cheeks. “How about we don’t mention that I was with you this time?”
“What?”
She kept walking with barely a shrug. “He gets worried too easily. I’m not really built to stay safe.”
Kara spat out the word as if she’d tasted something foul. “Honestly, ever since we came here, he’s been getting all… official. It’s not really my scene.”
“I can believe that,” I said, running quickly through my options. “But could that issue be settled between you and Davien, and leave me out of it?”
“That’s why I gave you a heads-up,” she replied, nudging my shoulder. “We’re family. I wouldn’t want to get you into trouble unnecessarily.”
Family.
I thought about it as we climbed through the layers of Orem Station until we emerged at one of the residential zones of the Lowers.
“I’m going to pop out here, check on Eris.” Kara announced, her voice tight. “If this doesn’t work out…”
I put a hand on her shoulder. “Doc says everything is fine. We’ve got to trust her.”
She snorted. “Trust Doc? Because she knows so much about how babies are usually made. Sure.”
Her face softened and for a moment, I could see how worried she really was under that tough veneer.
About Eris, about the baby that still hadn’t arrived yet.
About everything.
“Anyhow. Not a word to Davien about this, okay? Think of it as a favor to a sister.”
She disappeared, and I wandered out of the residential zone and into the Bazaar, looking for food.
Residents of Orem nodded, stepping out of my way. People who lived here knew enough not to be worried about my presence, but they also knew I wasn’t the most talkative of my brothers.
My brothers.
Sisters now, too, apparently.
Our family.
Was that really what we were?
We’ve been bred this way, trained together, formed into a fighting force stronger than permasteel, but did that actually make us a family?
My order came up, a trio of pale fluffy balls, still moist from the steamer, hiding shredded spicy veg and protein inside.
And then my comm pinged, louder than the grumbling of my stomach.
“Aedan, report to Command.” Davien’s voice sounded in my ear, sounding just as curt as usual.
Void take it.
Maybe one of the human guards had already said something about Kara being on that mission.
Family indeed.
Not sure if any of it was worth it.
Myria
“Easy, girl,” I crooned to Dayla as she picked her way through the crowded streets of Trandor.
Not one of the more shining cities I’d ever visited in my travels, but honestly, few of them were.
Holding my satchel a little closer to me, I leaned forward from my precarious perch to scratch in her favorite spot, right between the green and yellow stripes that covered Dayla’s pebbled hide above her short forearms.
“Almost to the end, and then you’ll have a nice bundle of leaves,” I promised as her long legs carried us through the winding,; muck-covered streets.
We caught a few glares and stares, as usual.
Some people could manage to bond enough with a torwynn to last a season or two. Most didn’t manage, instead relying on the heavier zugrin to draw carts and wagons.
Torwynn required more dedication. And certainly more conversation.
I had a theory. Actually, I’d heard about it from a half-drunk grizzled old man in a bar.
You’d be surprised how much information I picked up from half-drunk grizzled old men in bars.
But back to the theory.
It seemed like there was a season in their lifespans during which torwynn wanted to explore the world, leave the herd and wander.
But they preferred to do it in company - either with a member of their herd, or another herd passing by, or even, if they weren’t too picky, a human.
I had found Dayla far from any other herd, curiously picking at low hanging norvell branches.
Considering even then she was twice my height, I felt justified in being a bit nervous about approaching.
But the distance I could cover on torwynn-back was enough of an incentive to spur me on, bring me closer.
She didn’t strike with her talons, didn’t bounce away on those absurdly long, backwards-hinged legs.
She just lowered her head and stared at me with glossy black eyes as if to say, “Where have you been? Scratch this eye ridge. Get on that.”
We’d traveled together for two years now, and I wondered how much longer it would be before she felt the stirring to return to her herd.
“Things are getting interesting, old girl,” I murmured. “Stay with me a little longer, all right?”
She chuffed in answer.
And as usual, I read into it whatever I wanted.
We were halfway to a tavern I had worked at before when the crowd suddenly thinned out.
I frowned. That wasn’t good. Whatever was up ahead was scaring the locals away. Locals that I needed to be happy and relaxed, spending their money in the tavern.
Not too nervous to walk the streets.
It didn’t take long to figure out the problem.
A small group of men walked boldly down the middle of the street, wearing the black and orange coats that marked them as Flame’s elite guard.
They surrounded a young man with bruises clear on his face, shackles on his wrists.
What the hell were they doing here?
Flame’s citadel was at least two days travel away, and that was pushing it.
The locals scattered at the sight of them, not wanting to risk confrontation.
I didn’t blame them.
Even if this was borderland territory, Flame’s soldiers could travel just as freely as a bard.
But no one liked them.
“They like us a little bit, at least, don’t they, Dayla?”
She didn’t even chuff.
In a small berg like this, no one wanted anything to do with Flame’s boys if they could help it.
Including me.
As the band approached, a dark-haired man in the lead fixed me with a pointed stare.
“We’re as far to the side as we can get, jackass,” I muttered.
His eyes felt oily on my skin and I let out a sigh of relief as they passed by.
Once they were out of sight, the crowd resumed its regular movements and Dayla and I picked our way through the muck to the tavern, thick smoke pouring from its chimney.
In a bigger town, the Red Thrall would look run-down, beat-up.
Here, it fit in with the rest of the town.
I wasn’t going to make a lot of money here, but there were other things than money that were worthwhile.
You wouldn’t think it to look at it, but from my previous trip through, I knew they actually had a good setup for torwynn here, with stalls tall enough to accommodate their towering height, and piles and piles of norvell branches.
Of course, they’d mostly be expecting zugrin, but enough travelers came through that the stable hand would know what to do with Dayla.
Unrolling the short rope ladder from the saddle, I swung my leg over and climbed down, careful not to catch the bow on my back on any of her rigging.
A lean girl with her hair in a rat’s nest but clean-enough leathers stepped forward.
“She gonna give me any trouble taking the harness off?”
“No,” I answered, as I scratched down the side of Dayla’s pebbled muzzle. “She’s the sweetest-tempered torwynn I’ve ever met.”
The girl stared at me, unimpressed. “They all say that.” Nevertheless, she stepped forward and led Dayla into a pen that looked cleaner than anything else I’d seen in this town.
When I slipped inside the smoke-filled tavern, a slow grin crawled across my face.
Unlike the smoke outside, this wasn’t from a cook fire, but was the easy, thick smoke of hash.
The scent made my nose crinkle, and for the sake of my throat and my brain, I’d have to stay away from the worst of it.
But it meant there was a little extra coin for pleasures here. And plenty of people who would be feeling relaxed, ready to talk, gossip.
Who knew what news I could pick up?
Behind the bar, a sturdy looking woman with her hair in long rows of braids watched me.
“Passing through?”
I slid my retrew carefully from its carrying case in my satchel.
“Hoping to play for a night or two, if you’ll have me.”
I’d be shocked if she wouldn’t.
Since the so-called peace, the only way news spread from town to town was by travelers, the rumor network, and bards.
The thought still made me laugh.
Here we were, theoretically part of some great intergalactic Empire.
But the Emperor had cast us off, and due to greed and anger, the whole planet had been turned into something straight out of a history book.
My great-grandmother remembered the war, and the change…the soldiers coming through, confiscating every weapon, every bit of tech.
She’d never forgotten.
Never forgiven.
Not the warlords, and not the Emperor.
“Can’t pay’ya,” the woman said flatly. “But I can feed you, get you space in the storeroom to sleep.”
“Take care of me and my mount, and we’re all square,” I promised.
I stuck my hand out, shook hers, and listened to the hum of the tavern.
Not quite full.
“More folks coming in later?” I asked.
She nodded. “A bit after dark is when they mostly come by.”
That would do.
That would do just fine.
Aedan
Ronan and Nadira had left to navigate Hub politics a week ago. Something to do with the Council, and trade agreements. Didn’t know, didn’t really care.
Nadira would navigate things, and Ronan would destroy anyone who was in her way.
And Davien was left to handle station security.
He wasn’t exactly thrilled about it, which meant we all suffered.
But Davien wasn’t the only one waiting for me in the control room.
“There he is!” gushed a rich male voice as I came into the office.
Oh no.
I’ve been so busy carefully not-thinking about Kara’s words that I hadn’t picked up the scent.
A tall male, immaculately dressed in crimson and white, bounced up from one of the plush chairs that Nadira had insisted Ronan’s office needed.
They were especially useful when people walked in for the first time. Command was deep in the heart of Orem Station, but we’d fixed screens over all the walls.
Sometimes they showed data for specific missions, or cam-feeds from decks where trouble had been reported.
But most of the time, they showed exactly what you’d see if you weren’t in the station. Space.
The ships coming in and out of port.
But mostly, just the deep black.
Which was where I’d like to throw a certain someone.
“Why is he here?” I asked Davien.
“Because I’m the Emperor and can go where I want?” answered Vandalar.
I snapped my head back towards him. “You’re not the Emperor yet.” A terrible thought struck… “Are you?”
“Actually,” the dark blond man dropped back into the chair, the idiotic façade slipping away. “It’s going to be soon. Grandfather’s faculties are fading, and he knows it.”
Davien and I shot each other frowns.
To be trapped in your body, knowing your mind was slowly leaving, betraying you. It was the worst nightmare for all of us.
“If anything, the business with General Melchior has made him more determined than ever to step aside early.”
Vandalar rubbed his eyes and I noticed the strained, fine lines around the outer corners that told of more sleepless nights than human men were designed for.
“But he wants everyone around for the big day.”
“We’re not going,” Davien said flatly.
Vandalar laughed, low and long, finally tipping his head back to rest against the back of the chair.
“Oh no, that’s not what he meant. Not at all. But thank you. I just had the most pleasing vision of all of you stopping in, glowering until the court finally fell silent.”
“No,” Davien growled.
“Still, I’ll treasure the imagined memory.”
“So, what do you want?” I snapped.
What I wanted was a shower, to get a fresh order of steamed buns and actually get to eat them this time.
To stop dancing around things with this loser.
Vandalar’s face turned stern, possibly almost regal.
“I need you to find my aunt,” Vandalar answered. “My great-aunt Eladia, really. My grandfather’s favorite sister. She’s gone missing.”
“It’s a big galaxy out there,” I leaned back in my chair, thinking wistfully of dinner. “Missing doesn’t really give us much to go on.”
“Believe it or not, I’m not an idiot,” said Vandalar.
“It’d be easier to remember if you stopped acting it,” said Davien.
“Maybe you can have that interesting AI of yours remind me every time I enter Orem,” Vandalar said dryly. “I’ve heard it’s remarkably useful.”
I could do that, chirped Nixie.
Void. She’d been listening to the whole thing.
“Nixie, everything that’s ever said in this room is private, you understand that, right?” I demanded of the air, to wherever Nixie had decided to place her interfaces.
