Asarlai Wars 1: Warrior Wench Read online

  Gosta nodded and motioned toward Xsit who leaned in the doorway. The tiny birdlike woman bobbed her head at Gosta’s words, then turned toward the other junior officers. In an instant the hallway was cleared and the door secured.

  “You were poisoned.” Deven swung out of his bed, waving Terel’s muttered protests aside as he did so. “I tried to draw the poison out too fast and my system collapsed.” He tried flashing one of his charming grins. “You know us pretty boys are fragile.”

  Vas knew the futility of fighting with Deven about staying in bed; he stayed in bed when he had a good reason. Being injured didn’t happen to be one of those reasons.

  Terel finally shrugged. Her eyes flashed briefly to lighter silver, the only outward sign of her annoyance.

  Vas wasn’t going to step into any battles of will between those two. Besides, she had her own issues to fight.

  “What in the hell happened?” Vas said.

  “You died.” Deven’s jaw tightened in a rare show of emotion. It vanished an instant later. “Okay, you were about a second away from dying. We were ten minutes out of town when you complained about a pain in your stomach.” He sat back on the edge of his bed.

  A phantom pain hit her low in the abdomen. “I remember.” Her voice stayed low. “I thought I’d been hit by a beam weapon.”

  “I wish.” Deven shook his head. “That would have been easier to fix. You’ve been poisoned. Someone slipped you some Larkerian drell recently. You should have been dead twenty seconds after it went active. It’s a designer poison and it can be set to activate anytime within thirty days of insertion.”

  Terel blanched at his words and slid back into her chair. Although the name meant nothing to Vas, it clearly did to her medical officer.

  “What is it and how did they give it to me?” Vas racked her brain to think of where someone could have poisoned her. Had Skrankle done it? Who knew what lurked in that slime he oozed. Except she didn’t think Skrankle could pre-plan his next meal let alone a murder.

  Which left at least fifty or more of her favorite enemies as prime suspects.

  “The drells are a class of designer poisons from the Westergail Wars.” Everyone turned to stare at Gosta. Along with being a crack navigation officer, he laid claim to being a master hacker and computer wizard. However, none of his interests usually included historical facts.

  He continued without noticing their looks. “They were one of the last inventions of the Asarlaís.” Gosta frowned; his pronounced jaw mandibles clicking loudly as he finally noticed that the others were all focused on him. “I read, people. Something the rest of you might do once in a while.”

  “But the Westergail Wars ended eight hundred years ago,” Vas said. She wasn’t happy that after twenty years as a mercenary she almost left this world thanks to a poison. It being from the homicidal and self-destructing former master race of the Asarlaís just increased her annoyance level. That the universe managed to out-survive the Asarlaís was a miracle still taught to schoolchildren.

  Gosta shook his head. “Clearly some of their creations continued. However, I’ve not read of the Larkerian drell before.”

  Deven leaned back partially on the pile of pillows on his bed. Vas couldn’t tell if fatigue had caught up to him or he adjusted himself for her benefit. “The Larkerian is a rare one. I haven’t seen it in a very long time.”

  She knew he meant to say something else. His mystery man persona was designed to increase her urge to space him. Some days resistance was harder than others.

  “So someone slipped me an ancient and obscure poison sometime in the last thirty days. We have no idea who, why, or where.” Vas wanted to go and find something or someone to beat up, but she didn’t know if she could move. Deven may have taken her off death’s path, but she’d come far too close not to feel the effects. She told herself the lump of ice in her gut was just a side effect of the poison.

  “How long will it take to go away? We do have a battle to fight, you know.” Vas picked at her med officer. She knew she was an awful patient, but it did seem to make doctors work harder to get her out of their sick rooms.

  Terel scurried over to the holo vid, humming as she did so. She hummed when agitated, happy, or sad. Vas couldn’t think of an emotion that went through Terel that she didn’t hum about. Maybe it was a species thing. The question would be which species. Terel was an Exotic, her heritage made up of so many unique species that no single one could be claimed. Tall and elegantly thin, almost human looking, but with long dark orange feather-like hair that never would be found on a human. Even with the odd hair, she still looked like so many others she didn’t stand out in a crowd. She had an eerie ability for balance however—physically, mentally, and maintaining the internal balance of her patients. Came in handy on a ship full of hot heads.

  “You won’t find much, unless you start studying archives.” Deven ran his hand through his hair, then sighed as if weighing something. “I know a fair amount about poisons. No, I won’t talk about it, nor will I develop any for you. But I haven’t seen a Larkerian drell in over two hundred years.” His dark green eyes narrowed as he watched all of them.

  Vas didn’t think Deven was a pure human, not many espers were, and none that were past a level three. However, over two hundred years?

  “How old are you anyway? Your records say you’re thirty.” She wasn’t surprised that his records were wrong. She’d be more surprised if any of her crew had accurate files. But she didn’t like not knowing they were that far off.

  “I lied.” Deven shrugged and flashed an honest grin. Far more unnerving than his glamour grin in Vas’s thinking. “You don’t need to know how old. Take it on faith I’m older than you. And I haven’t seen nor heard of the Larkerian drell in over two hundred years.” His grin vanished and the lines in his face deepened. “And that I almost couldn’t save you.”

  Gosta rose from the computer screen he’d been hunching in front of. “Captain, I’m going to need to use the Victorious Dead’s computer system to find information. This is a rental and is useless for a deep search. Where is the ship docked?”

  “That’s a good question.” Vas watched all three faces as her words hit.

  “You lost our ship?” Deven went pale and a line that hadn’t been there before appeared between his brows. This was why she had hoped to tell him before the others—she knew he wasn’t going to take it well. The other two sat back down and stayed silent but both watched her with eyes found only on kicked puppies.

  “First of all, it’s my ship, not our ship. Secondly, what I would have told you had you not been playing with the deity of baked goods all evening was that Skrankle took the ship apart.” She held up her hands as all three tried to speak at once. “Skrankle says he mistook it and parted out the wrong ship. Considering that no one could mistake the Victorious Dead for our current loaner, I seriously doubt it. Also considering that said loaner is in top shape, and has lots of brand-new state-of-the-art goodies and treats, I can’t imagine anyone wanting to part her out.”

  Vas studied the ceiling; no easy way to say it. “Our current ship is conspicuous.” She frowned but no easier terms came to mind. “And very ill-named.”

  “Well?” Gosta prodded when she waited too long to tell them.

  “We’ve got the Warrior Wench.”

  She closed her eyes, and slid into her pillows as all three shouted at once. None of them said anything that she hadn’t already said to herself. The majority of her negotiating for pay on jobs came out of her reputation and that of her crew. What her clients would think of the fierce merc Captain Vaslisha Tor Dain tooling around in the metal version of a fluffy pink whorehouse was enough to make her sick. She vowed that for every job they didn’t get hired for, Skrankle would also lose another body part. Lucky for her, Ilerians had lots of body parts.

  She finally waved them to be silent. “It sucks. Trust me, I know. But there isn’t anything we can do now. We need to be on Lantaria by this time next week for
the Honth battle. We also need to have a ship to find the Victorious Dead. I did a quick scan of Skrankle’s orders on his holvid. He didn’t do a full breakdown; the ship won’t be in small pieces, so our job won’t be as hard.” She didn’t know if she convinced them or herself.

  “But we can’t do anything until I can stand. Doc? Any clue as to how long I’m laid up?”

  The gleam in Terel’s eyes told Vas she wanted to continue asking questions about the ship. Long-time spacers often cared about their ship more than their families. Muttering under her breath, Terel turned toward her computer.

  “Now that we know what you were attacked with, Gosta and I should be able to find something to combat it even on these computers. Hopefully there won’t be much more to do, I think Deven pulled most of it out of your system.” Her tone implied that she wanted to take him apart to find out how he’d done what he did as well. However, as with the issue of their missing ship, Vas knew Terel would just quietly wait until the proper time, then corner the guilty parties when it was least expected.

  As Gosta joined Terel and they conferred in low tones, Vas pointed in Deven's direction. "What I need you to do is go round up the rest of our happy crew, tell them to pack up all their stuff, and get them ready to bug out. Then contact the fighters at Home and have them meet us in transport ships in route. We can’t swing by and gather them this time. We'll need about six hundred fighters from Home, low-tech ground pounders only. We're with a few other companies on this one.” Her crew sometimes complained about her rule for taking all personal belongings off the ship for any extended shore leave. She seriously doubted they’d complain after having the entire ship go missing. At least they all still had their stuff.

  While the officers and primary crew of forty-five or so stayed on the Victorious Dead, the grunts all lived off ship on a large, yet very empty, world Vas had won with her first major battle. It didn’t have much land mass, a few small continents scattered across gigantic oceans, but it was all hers. Keeping the fighting force intact and on call made her fighters happy. Many of them had families and this way they could be with them in a secure location. Vas herself even had a house there. Moreover, she made a point to visit it at least once a year.

  Vas rubbed her hands across her face as fatigue pressed at her again. She let her eyes slide shut and kept them that way.

  She felt Deven's presence next to her as he sat on her bed. She’d never noticed his smell before today. Light and green, as if a forest imp from Gflasia sat next to her. A very big forest imp—she fought to keep from sliding into him as the side of the bed went down under his full weight.

  “You sure that will be enough?” He said.

  Vas slid over further, but didn't open her eyes. “We’re taking point, but in terms of bodies our participation will be minor. We have other fights coming up in a few months, and I don't want to commit too many to this one.”

  She'd expected Deven to get off the bed, but he stayed still.

  “You scared the hell out of me.” His voice dropped so low that she popped her eyes open to make sure he had spoken. “You died out there.”

  The intensity in his eyes rattled her, but she forced a smile. “Good thing I had you to save me then. Now can you please get the rest of our merry bunch together?” She let her eyes slide back shut. Maybe he’d leave her alone if he thought she needed sleep. She kept her life as drama free as possible. Right now those green eyes were screaming drama. They were saying other things as well, deeper things. But she really wasn’t dealing with that right now. Something had changed in Deven or in her during the time they’d been apart, and she didn’t think it was a good something.

  Deven's weight lifted off the bed after a few minutes, but Vas waited until the door closed before opening her eyes.

  Terel glanced at the recently shut door, then to Vas and slowly arched her left brow. Vas held up her hand at the other woman. “Whatever you’re thinking of saying, don’t say it. I need to get us all on track and get my damn ship back.” She waved a finger when Terel took a breath to argue. “No, nothing.”

  “I have no idea what is lurking in your psyche, and I’m sure I don’t want to know. I just wanted to tell you Gosta and I have synthesized the treatment that should eventually chase the remaining poison out. The fact that no one has survived a poisoning from a drell longer than a minute after activation actually gave us a number of options.” From the look on her thin face, she hadn’t intended to say that at all. She’d clearly picked up on whatever Vas was trying to ignore between Deven and herself.

  Vas frowned, but refused to be embarrassed at the implication. She’d never reacted to Deven in a sexual manner. Never mind his looks and charm, he was a telepath and a crewmember. Which violated the only two requirements she held fast to for lovers—not an esper and not a member of her crew.

  However, that changed when she first saw him in the casino tonight. Nothing extreme, just an awareness of him that hadn’t been there before.

  It scared the hell out of her.

  However, even Terel’s status as her best friend didn’t entitle her to that information. Shaking the contraband thoughts out of her head, she turned back to the issue at hand. “Give it to me and let’s move on.”

  Terel’s eyes danced as she came forward with one hand held behind her back. “It’s not one treatment. We’ll have to give you injections for the next few days to get your system cleaned out and back to normal.” She pulled her arm forward as if presenting a great medical discovery. “With this.” The weapon she held up had to be longer than an infantry fighter’s sword.

  “What do you mean—injections? What the hell is that thing?” Vas tried crawling to the end of her bed, but gave up when she figured Terel could reach her before she could move far enough. “Where is the hypo spray? Why more than one? Nothing needs more than one.”

  Terel’s grin went feral enough for Vas to rack her brain for anything antagonistic she’d done to the doc lately. She winced when a few items came to mind.

  “This is called a needle. It’s what our ancestors used to inject things into a body. I need something more invasive than a hypospray. It must be multiple times because it won’t stay in your system without constant boosters.” Terel held up the needle to Gosta. “Isn’t it great? I read about these in bio-med school. Never thought I’d get to use one. Luckily, I bought a few from a local midwife as souvenirs.”

  Vas flung herself off the bed and hit the floor on all fours. “You’ve never used one of those things? What if you do it wrong?” She scrambled to her feet and grabbed her pillow to brandish at the advancing doctor. However, her grip was so weak it tumbled out of her hands.

  “I do know what I’m doing.” Terel stopped in front of her and folded her arms. “Do I tell you how to run your ship? What about the Company? No? How about you let me do my job and I’ll keep letting you do yours.” She grabbed Vas’s arm and swabbed a section of skin. “I won’t say this won’t hurt; it will. But nothing compared to what you’re used to on a battlefield.”

  Gosta picked that moment to drop a book. Terel stabbed Vas with the wicked needle at the same second.

  Terel nodded toward Gosta who bowed, his double-jointed knees lending a unique flair to the old-fashioned move. Both of them headed toward the door. “You’ll feel the effects soon. However, you need to sleep. You should be ready to board our new ship in the morning. Being as you lost our old one.”

  “I didn’t lose it, damn it,” Vas said around a huge yawn. “Waitaminute, what is in that stuff?” Her eyes were dropping faster than a drunk after a week on clearvac.

  Terel gave an evil grin as she paused before closing the door. “I knew that even as tired as you were you wouldn’t sleep. The sedatives in the syringe along with your treatment will assure me otherwise.” She flashed a genuine smile this time. “Good night, Vas.”

  ***

  Vas fought to wake up as a giant with a bad hangover picked up one end of reality and shook. However, the pounding cam
e from inside her head, not outside it. Lifting her head was a painful experience.

  Falling back into the mattress, Vas muttered about revenge-driven doctors. Eventually the pounding dropped to a dull thud. It still hurt, but her head wasn’t shattering and the black dots in front of her eyes were gone.

  At least Terel’s treatment gave Vas the strength to go after Terel and give her a piece of her mind about the resulting headache. On second thought, if the headache was going to hit this hard each treatment, she needed to stay on the doc’s good side.

  “Better?” Gosta’s dry voice entered an instant before he lumbered into the room. Probably a safe approach if he had an inkling of how she felt right now.

  “Not much. Doc needs to give me something for my head.” She sat up and slowly got out of bed. “At least I can move now. Any luck tracking how I got this drell crap?”

  Gosta’s long legs clicked softly as he strode closer. “Not yet. Terel and I will have to use the computers on the ship.” He cocked a ragged black eyebrow at her. “The new ship does have a computer system, yes?”

  She turned her back to him and put on a clean shirt, clearly one Terel had found, as she hadn’t brought anything down to the planet with her. “Of course it does.” She glared over her shoulder at Gosta. “In fact, I hate to say it, but the system looks better than ours. When you check it out, see what things we want to take with us when we get the Victorious Dead back.”

  She had just finished lacing up her boots when Deven came in.

  “We’re mostly accounted for. A few took some convincing to move fast enough, but we’re here. Xsit sent someone to go find Mac and Jakiin, but they can’t be far. No one in town will rent them a vehicle after the last time they were here.” He folded his arms and scowled at the room. “This is the only room that’s not ready to go.” The tone in his voice made it clear that whoever he had been during his extended vacation here, he had mentally returned to being her second-in-command.