“She had a filthy Tiogar zygote within her!” Neala Acet got
to her feet as she shouted. “A piece of filth I made sure was scraped from her
womb despite her pleading and hysteria! The nuns will make certain she atones
for allowing you to lay hands to her so you could slime her with your malignant
seed!”
Overwhelming sorrow rose up in Taegin Drae and it was all he
could do not to show how deeply the woman’s words had hurt him. It was bad enough
to find out Marin had been violated in such a vile way but something worse yet
to know their child had been destroyed.
“What, no curses upon me, no depraved threats for the
zealousness with which I protected my daughter, Tiogar? Did you really believe I
would leave her in your corrupt hands? I would rather see her dead than
enslaved to you!”
The Tiogar’s hands were clenched into fists at his side. He
was breathing heavily, a vein throbbing forcefully in the hollow at the base of
his throat. His eyes were as hot as the fires of hell.
“You don’t give a warthog’s prick about Marin. What is it
you really want?” he demanded.
“You,” she replied, and her chin rose.
McGregor cast a look at his friend and saw Taegin nodding.
If rumor was true, Taegin Drae was the last of his kind and one of only a few
remaining Riochasian males to have survived the genocide on Riochas.
“Turn yourself in to me and I will set Marin free. It
matters not a whit to me what happens to her after that.”
“What guarantee do I have you’ll keep your word?” Taegin
countered.
Neala Acet’s eyes narrowed into thin slits of hatred.
“Because I want to see you dead!” she shouted at him. “I want you hanged, drawn
and quartered, stretched naked on a granite slab with me standing over you with
a sharp blade in my hand!”
“Well, if all you want is to see me naked, Neala, I can
accommodate you right here and now,” Taegin drawled, his fists opening and
closing as he stared into the infuriated woman’s eyes.
“I will take great delight in slicing that offending staff
from between your legs before I disembowel you,” she threw at him, “then feed
it to my mastiff!”
“Sure you wouldn’t like to stuff it in your cunt before you
do that?” he asked.
Outrage filled Neala Acet’s face and turned it crimson red.
Her eyes flared. “I should have had my commander blow you from the skies when
she had the chance!”
“And kill your own flesh and blood in the bargain?” he
asked. “I don’t think even you are that evil, Neala.”
“Stop calling me that!” she screamed at him. “You will afford
me the respect I am due!”
“What respect?” he snarled, walking closer to the vid com.
“You have done nothing to garner respect, bitch! You killed my father!”
The Riochasian leader pulled the ceremonial dagger she wore
strapped to her waist from its sheath and held it up for him to see. “With this
very blade did I slit Seamus Drae’s useless throat!” she bragged. “And with
this same blade will I end your worthless life!”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Taegin said. “You have to catch me first
and that isn’t going to happen.”
For a long while there were no words between the warrior and
his tormentress. They were staring at one another—he, with pure venom shooting
from his stare, she, with eyes that roamed insultingly over his naked chest.
The crew of the
Revenge
stared at their captain.
“She’ll end her days at Clohar,” the older woman declared.
“I am told it is not a particularly pleasant sojourn as a novitiate there.”
“You’d do that to her simply for loving me?” Taegin asked.
Everyone on the
bridge
saw the irrational fury
take possession of Neala Acet.
“Love you?” she screeched. “If I thought for one moment she
did, I would kill her myself!”
Taegin knew he’d made a grave tactical error and that error
could very well end Marin’s life. He had to protect her, ensure her safety and
release from Clohar. The nunnery was a vile place, little less than a madhouse
for women who embraced a strict, disciplinary doctrine he knew Marin would
never accept. To leave her there was unthinkable and the mere thought of her
deranged mother killing her simply because she loved him made the hair stand up
on his arms. He made a decision in that moment he hoped he could see to
fruition.
“Bring her back to this ship and you can have what you
want,” he said.
“Taegin, no!” Kale gasped.
The Tiogar held up his hand, silencing Kale. “Return her.
When I know she’s safe, I will place my life in your hands.”
Kale groaned.
“Do you swear it?” Neala Acet said, and her eyes were
fiercely bright as she walked closer to the viewing screen. “On the grave of
your father, do you swear it?”
Taegin nodded. “Let her go,” he replied. “Then you can have
me.”
Neala Acet glared at him from the vid screen. “I’ll make
your last days a living hell, you know that, don’t you?” she warned.
He held the Madras leader’s stony look. “I’ve no illusions
about what you’d do once you got your hands on me,” he answered.
“You will die in excruciating agony, Tiogar,” she promised.
“I will personally see to it.”
“As long as Marin is safely out of your reach, it won’t
matter.”
Silence settled on the bridge of the
Revenge
and
every eye was trained on the bitter face of the woman who filled the vid
screen. There was virulent hatred in Neala Acet’s narrowed eyes and when she
spoke, her voice was filled with venom.
“So be it. Marin is of no use to me anyway. She is spoiled
goods now that you have thrust your filthy staff into her cunt,” she said. “I
will give the order to have her returned to your ship when I have you—”
“Oh, no,” he said. “You must really think I’m stupid to
agree to such a condition. I’ve no guarantee you will go through with the deal
once I’m in your hands.”
“You have my word of honor!” she yelled.
“What honor?” he flung back at her. “I’ve seen no honor on
your part. Stop talking about honor, bitch. You don’t know the meaning of the
word!”
“And you do?” she sneered.
“No one in the megaverse has ever questioned my honor,
woman.” He cocked a brow. “Can you say the same?”
Her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, the
Riochasian could not dispute the fact that her name had been sullied from one
planet to another, her honor, her reputation soiled by ignorant, jealous males
who vied for her downfall. It did not matter that she had rallied the women of
Riochas, had led them to freedom over their tyrannical oppressors against vast
odds. Men from every quadrant of the megaverse spoke her name with loathing and
not with the fear she had wished it to be. Such was evident in the way the
Tiogar was speaking to her. His disdain, his contempt for her was almost as
great as hers for him. He had escaped her blade once—he would not again. She
would have him in her hands at any cost.
“What guarantee do I have you will not go back on your word
once Marin is on your ship?” she questioned.
“I have sworn on the grave of my father that I will turn
myself over to you. You have no reason to question my honor.”
Neala Acet stared from the vid screen, her face as set as
stone. The anger fairly leapt from her green eyes and the pursing of her lips
let it be known that she was ready to explode.
“I do not trust you,” she finally said.
“And I should trust you?” the Tiogar queried.
For another long moment the two adversaries stood frozen as
they stared at one another. Neither gave away anything by their body language,
but one look at their faces, the glint in their gazes was enough for even the
densest of fools to know a monumental decision was in the making—a decision
that would affect many lives.
“I do not trust you,” Neala Acet repeated.
“Fine,” Taegin said, and with a wave of his hand, the
communication between them was broken.
Breaths were held on the bridge of the
Revenge.
It
was less than five seconds before the hail came from Riochas Prime.
“Wait,” Taegin said softly, his hand up. “Don’t answer yet.”
The hail came again.
“Wait.”
McGregor’s nerves were stretched as far as they would go.
The last thing he wanted was to lose his friend, and what the Tiogar was
proposing was suicide, sure death—excruciating and prolonged—at the hands of
Taegin’s worst enemy.
The hail came a third time and Taegin lowered his hand,
nodding at the com officer to open the vid com channel. Almost instantly, the
livid face of the Riochasian leader filled the vid screen.
“Don’t you
ever
do that again, you contemptible—” she
thundered, but was cut off in mid complaint.
“Let’s cut to the chase, bitch,” Taegin said, folding his
arms over his chest. “You want me, and I want Marin out of your loathsome
reach. You hand her over to me and I’ll place myself at your rather dubious
pleasure.”
“I will not—”
Taegin lifted his hand once more and the connection was
instantly severed.
Kale McGregor whistled and wiped his sweaty palms on the
front of his uniform shirt. He looked at his hands to see them shaking.
The hail came four times before Taegin nodded for Mr. Lutz
to open the connection.
“You son of a whoring Riochasian bitch!” Neala Acet threw at
him.
“What’s it to be?” Taegin asked.
“I will—”
The Tiogar started to lift his hand.
“Stop!” the Riochasian leader shouted. She came as close to
the vid com on her end as space would allow. She was so close everyone on the
Revenge
could see her nose hairs. “I will hand her over to you, but if
you—”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m as enamored of you as you are of me, you
vicious old hag,” Taegin exclaimed, ignoring McGregor’s quickly indrawn breath.
“If you do not keep your end of the bargain, I will blow you
out of the sky even though Marin is on that ship. Is that clear?”
“Perfectly clear,” Taegin replied.
“I’ll dull my blade for you, Tiogar!”
With that said, she broke the connection.
No one moved on the bridge of the
Revenge
. Every eye
was locked on the Tiogar.
“Jannsen,” Taegin said, “I want you on the transport deck
when Marin arrives. Make sure you immediately place an interrupter on her so
they can’t snatch her back from us. Double, no, triple, the strength of the
interrupter signal. I don’t want there to be any chance of losing her again.”
“Aye, aye, Captain!” Janssen acknowledged.
“Mr. Forbisoe, as soon as my lady arrives and is safe inside
this vessel, throw everything we’ve got at the ship that brought her and any
accompanying that ship. I don’t want one ion particle left when you’re through
with it.”
“Aye, sir!”
“You’re not really going to turn yourself over to that
witch, are you?” Kale asked.
“Hell, no!” Taegin snorted. He turned to his navigational
officer. “Lock in a course for Siochánta, Mr. Lutz. As soon as Forbisoe blasts
those Riochasian hags to dust, I want you to get us the hell out of here and
push the
Revenge
to her limits.”
“Aye, Captain!”
“Don’t you think Acet will send her entire fleet after us?”
Kale asked.
“I’m counting on it and once we’re past Siochánta and they
dare to follow us into Ciumhas airspace, they’ll have broken the treaty. When
that happens, the League Forces will go to Riochas Prime and arrest Neala
Acet.”
“The Iontach pass through Ciumhas all the time and the
League says nothing to them,” Kale reminded his captain.
“True, but the Iontach have had no sanctions placed upon
them such as the Riochasians have,” the Tiogar responded. “The Madras breaks
the treaty and the entire might of the League will be brought down about their
ears.”
“Sweet,” Kale said. “I would never have thought of such a
plan.”
“Aye, well be thankful I’m a bit more devious than you, my
friend,” Taegin said.
McGregor’s face puckered with concern. “But you swore an oath
to turn yourself over to her. There will be those who will bandy it about that
you reneged on the bargain you made. Your honor will be called into question,
Taegin.”
“She asked me to swear on the grave of my father,” Taegin
reminded him, then saw enlightenment flash across his friend’s face.
“By the gods, Taegin, you are a thoroughly clever bastard,”
Kale stated. He looked about him, sure that every man and woman on the bridge
heard him. “The captain’s father has no grave. His body was burned and the ashes
cast to the winds. You can’t hold a man to an oath made on a hollow premise or
given under duress!”
Thunderous applause, hoots of derision, whistles of approval
met McGregor’s words. The crew of the
Revenge
was relieved their
captain’s reputation would not be called to task.
* * * * *
Marin glared at the two guards who escorted her into the
runabout. Neither would answer her questions and both were rough with her,
their hands tight upon Marin’s already bruised upper arms. With her hands
shackled in front of her, Marin felt like the criminal they were treating her.
Dressed in the drab, loose-fitting dark brown habit of the nunnery, she had
never felt more unattractive and unwanted.
“You have your course?” the taller of the two guards asked
the runabout’s pilot.
“Aye. I know where to take the traitor,” the pilot sneered.
She cast Marin a disgusted look. “As far as I’m concerned, I’d just as soon
jettison her into space and be done with it. Let her gasp for breath in the
cosmos!”
The guards shoved Marin into a seat and locked her shackles
into clips on the arms. Without another look, they turned and exited the
short-range craft.
“Where are we going?” Marin asked the pilot, but that one
ignored her as well.
Fear was building inside Marin. She had already gone through
more than her share of hell at the infamous nunnery on Clohar. What other evil
could they throw at her? Thinking back to what had happened to her from the
moment she had stepped foot on the barren Plains of Aithreachas on which the
nunnery sat like a crouching dragon upon the shifting red sands, she strove to
find a clue as to what more they would do with her now.