Exile

Exile

Book I: Daughters of Persephone

J. R. Barrett

Copyright 2010 Julia Barrett

Cover Artist: Winterheart Design

Editor: JW Manus

All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All events, names, characters and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, names, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

An author does not write in a vacuum. She receives help and support from family and friends, and in this case, the magnificent author and editor, JW Manus. Jaye, I can't thank you enough for your help, for your genius and above all for your love of a beautiful book.

“S
even bloody hells, the gravity plating on this deck’s shot. It’ll take two weeks to make these repairs.” Disgusted, the Chief Engineer tossed his scanner back into his tool pack. “If we can even buy the materials on this Gods forsaken rock. We don’t have the time.”

Aja and the First Mate, Davi Fedd, followed his gaze. That section of the exterior hull reflected bright in the desert sun. It looked wet, like a child who had fallen down and skinned his knees. No question about it, their entry and emergency landing had been rough.

“We passed over a trading zone,” said Mr. Fedd. “We may find some gravity plating there. Maybe we can buy something off an old junker.”

Aja watched the Chief roll his eyes. It was obvious to her he had no respect for the man who’d taken the helm.

“Until Captain Aram recovers, you’ll follow my orders, Chief, whether you like it or not, and you have two days to make these repairs.”

Aja knew the First Mate wanted to add,
you fucking asshole
, but he didn’t.

“Roll out the bird,” ordered Mr. Fedd. “Let’s scout a bit. Aja, you stay with the ship. Check on the captain. He might be feeling well enough to eat something.”

Aja nodded. She’d do whatever she could to help out. They’d crash landed because of her. Because of her, they were hiding from the Coalition. Captain Aram was ill because of her. He’d been exposed to the lethal virus intended for her. It was only due to the fact she’d managed to steal two vials of the antidote that he was recovering.

Chief Wyer shot her a dirty look. He didn’t bother to disguise his hatred. If he could off-load her or even kill her and get away with it, he would. Of that she had no doubt.

Even if Aja hadn’t been a Seer, born and bred of the Blood, the man’s thoughts were as plain as the nose on his face. He was very poor at disguising his feelings. Fortunately, he didn’t know who she was, he only understood she was valuable cargo and a third party was paying them a great deal of coin to deliver her safe and sound.

If he knew with any certainty who and what she was, Aja knew she’d already be dead.

She returned to the ship, stopping by the galley to fill a jug with fresh water. Captain Aram would probably be thirsty. His fever had been very high for three days. It had only broken this morning. He hadn’t been able to swallow until a few hours ago, but Aja had been strapped in during their flight. Although she heard his calls, she couldn’t get to his cabin to help him.

The Captain knew who she was and he knew what she was, but fortunately despite his fever and the hallucinations the virus caused, he’d managed to keep the information to himself.

Aja felt both grateful and guilty at the same time. The man had risked his life to save hers and now he risked his ship and his crew. It was small comfort that it was a barebones crew, only Davi Fedd, the First Mate, and the ship’s engineer, Chief Wyer.

With the captain sick, Davi had acted as pilot and engaged the auto-nav. Aja was more than capable of piloting the craft, but she was reluctant to take the helm because Chief Wyer was paranoid enough.

Only women of the Blood were trained as pilots. It was a tradition even the Coalition dare not break. They had to continue the myth they’d created, at least until the generations that remembered passed away. Their propaganda machine promulgated the idea that the Coalition ruled with the Empress’s blessing.

Of course, Aja had never been allowed to fly beyond the confines of the asteroid belt which served as her mother’s court in exile.

Smart of the Coalition in one way, very stupid in another.

It was hard to get anything larger than a small supply ship into the Sauran Asteroid Field so any chance of rescue and return to their home world of Matsu was almost nil. But learning to fly solo within the belt had helped make Aja and her two younger sisters daring pilots. Even their Coalition-assigned instructors had been in awe of their abilities.

Of course, Aja and her sisters had the benefit of generations of genetic engineering. Quick reflexes, perfect vision and an unusually forgiving vestibular system. No motion sickness for her.

Nor did it hurt that Aja could close her eyes yet see the path ahead of her clear as day.

She slid the door open and entered the captain’s spare living quarters. He lay on his side, facing her, eyes open. His face was pale, drawn.

“Everyone all right?” Aram’s voice was hoarse. “How’s my ship?”

“Yes,” Aja replied. “It was a rough landing, but no injuries, at least not to us. The gravity skin got torn up a bit. Davi and the Chief took the bird to the nearest settlement to see if they can scrounge some magnetite for repairs.” She lifted the jug. “Here, let me help you.”

She assisted the captain to a sitting position and held the jug for him. He drank like a man dying of thirst. “Not too much at once. You don’t want it to come back up.”

“By the Gods, I’m not sure I’d care. I feel like I’ve been staked out in the Gona Desert for a week.”

“Close.” Aja managed to suppress a grin. “You came very close.”

Captain Aram closed his eyes and lay back. He’d never been so weak in his life, but at least he felt better than he had the day before, when he had prayed for death.

If this was how the virus behaved after Aja had given him the antidote, he could only imagine the suffering this disease would cause before it killed its victims. If he remembered her words correctly, without the antidote, the virus was fatal one hundred percent of the time.

He hoped she’d managed to smuggle enough of the antidote out with her so the rebel medics could replicate it. Pray the Gods. If he’d only known what he was getting into before he’d agreed to attempt the rescue.

His eyes flew open. “Why didn’t you and Davi get ill? I must have been contagious. Do we have enough of the antidote for the rest of you?”

“It’s all right.” Aja moved to pat his arm, but she stilled her hand. “The particular strain you were injected with isn’t contagious. It’s a test strain only. It dies when you die. But you didn’t die. So in a sense, you are now immune. Think of it as a vaccination, like the medics give to children. You now have lifetime immunity.”

“Because I lived?”

“Yes, because you lived. Can you eat something? I can heat up a mug of broth.”

Captain Aram didn’t answer. He attempted to sit up. Aja leaned close to help him, but he waved her away. “What I’d really like to do is take a piss in the head and not in a jar. You mind? I know I was pretty far gone, but I assume you’ve seen everything I have. I suspect we’ve already passed the point of embarrassment.”

He saw a blush spread over her cheeks. Yes, apparently she had seen everything he had. “I’ll help you,” she offered. “You can lean on me. I’ll close my eyes if you like.”

“Thanks,” Captain Aram replied. “It’s not necessary.” He tossed the coverlet aside. He was naked beneath.

Aja helped him to the edge of the bunk. He sat there for a moment, getting his bearings. She held his arm, her grip firm, as he stood on shaky legs.

“Let’s go,” he said, winded already, “before I change my mind.”

Kyr rested his weight on Aja. He was a head taller than she was, but leaner than he’d been a week ago for certain. They walked side by side to the small room directly across from the bed. When they reached the door Aja had to duck in first then maneuver him inside after her. He braced himself with both hands against the wall as Aja squeezed around him. He leaned back against her and after a few moments, he relaxed.

Aja had little experience with men. She’d cared for her younger brothers, but until the past week, she’d never seen a grown man naked. It would be unthinkable in her cloistered world. A Princess of the Blood was expected to remain pure and unsullied by the touch of any man until her marriage. Prior to the coup, her mother would have arranged a match. Now any royal marriages would be arranged by the ruling Junta.

Aja was the eldest. She’d known for a long time the Coalition had intended to marry her off to a traitorous pig, some man who would keep her under lock and key for the rest of her life.

Of course, that was before the Junta decided to eliminate the problem of the royal family altogether.