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  Caid rolled his eyes at his friend and partner. Great! Not only did they have the Confederation after them, his crew was engaged in life and death conflict with the evil Grawkings, and he was transporting the most wanted, desperate criminal in the galaxy, but she was shit-faced. Every time he got involved with a pretty wench, his life turned inside out, and this episode was by far the most treacherous.

  Vizzy shrugged and held out his hands, clearly enjoying Caid’s predicament.

  The pretty blonde spun back and forth on her chair, singing. “Am I pretty?” She didn’t wait for him to answer before rushing on, the corners of her lips tugging down. “Well, I was pretty until my face was obliterated.”

  Great! He didn’t handle needy women well. Or obnoxious drunks, even one to who he had plied the liquor. He swallowed a sigh. The combination drove him insane, medicinal necessity or not. The sooner she passed out, the better. He needed to complete his mission before she wound up with an ugly scar. It would be far easier if she couldn’t feel the pain, or at least not wince and jerk around every time he drew near her. He hadn’t been prevaricating about putting out her eye if she moved unexpectedly.

  “Lie back in your chair and close your eyes.” He gentled his voice, trying to soothe her as he would a child. He ran his fingertips across her forehead, trying to coax her to sleep. It was a trick his mother had used on him many times as a small child. It had worked on his many pets as well.

  “Sing me a song,” Siobhan murmured dreamily, her unfocused gaze staring at him. Despite the nasty cut, she looked angelic with her wheat-colored locks bobbing around her heart-shaped face.

  Nonplussed, Caid stared at her. He shook himself to wake up. This angelic looking creature could be a dangerous mass murderer. Even if she was innocent as she proclaimed, she was still a Confederation captain—and thus his enemy. He couldn’t let his guard down merely because she happened to be a very beautiful woman. In his experience, gorgeous women were usually the most dangerous kind. God help him, he wanted to fuck her every way possible. He knew helping her escape was tantamount to a death sentence but his cock overruled his head. He wanted to bury himself in her cunt so badly he grew with desire at the slightest thought of her firm, beautiful body beneath his.

  With great difficulty, he dragged his mind back to the matter at hand, and cleared his throat as he struggled to control his randy thoughts. Soon enough he would get his chance to fuck her, after she was whole and sober again. “Like a lullaby?”

  Vizzy tried to hide the snickers bursting from his lips and Caid shot him a lethal glare, warning him to stop. But the big Shellik’s gut still shook with mirth so he swore vengeance.

  Siobhan started to hum a lullaby, conducting with her fingers, swaying gently to her own offbeat rhythm. The ship’s engines thrummed softly underlying her melodious tones. She had a sweet, pleasant lilt to her voice that did not strike him as a murderess’s voice. How many murderesses went around humming lullabies?

  Of course, she was looped out of her skull.

  And how many murderesses did he know anyway to make that comparison?

  Desperate, willing to do almost anything to get her to sleep, he probed deep in his memory and pulled out the words to the lullaby and began singing softly. He’d deal with the Shellik later.

  Finally, Siobhan dozed off, her head lolling to the side. He propped her up with blankets he found in the storage compartment, and then meditated for a moment. He’d never sewn human flesh before. Repairing his skivvies was the extent of his expertise. “Who am I kidding?” he grumbled shaking his head, his hand poised and shaking over the damaged face.

  Vizzy strolled over to him and gave him a commiserative pat on the back and the thumbs-up sign. He studied the woman’s face in repose, cocking his head to the side.

  “Yeah, it’s hard to believe she could do what she’s been accused of, but who knows what lurks in the deep dark recesses of anyone’s soul?” Especially a Confederation officer’s? And a woman to boot. Enough said.

  Vizzy spread his palm over his heart and smiled.

  “You think she has a good soul?” Caid sucked in a giant breath and let it expel slowly through his teeth. “For our sakes, let’s hope so, or we’ll be right up there with her as the most wanted criminals in the galaxy.”

  Vizzy pointed at Siobhan’s beautiful profile and tsk-tsked, shaking his head and stroking his finger for shame.

  “What do you mean I let a beautiful face thwart my judgment? That has nothing to do with it. She’s going to slake my most irrepressible appetites. And she might even make us rich beyond our wildest dreams. Then we can retire in comfort and never have to seek treasure or hire onto dangerous jobs again.” Visions of latinum and silver danced in his head and he licked his lips. “Just think, Vizzy. We can buy our own planet, build a castle, employ servants, and I’ll buy our own spaceship, one we don’t have to kick-start or borrow.”

  A wide grin dawned over Vizzy’s face, his fur ruffling around his mouth. He pointed to the needle, then to Siobhan’s wound.

  “Okay, okay. I can’t delay any longer. I’m not a surgeon. What if I mangle her face?”

  Vizzy put a comforting arm around Caid’s shoulder and hugged him.

  “Enough already. I know you think I can walk on water.” To himself he mumbled, “Wish I could.” Right now, he’d settle for a steady hand and iron guts.

  Siobhan’s breathing became slow and deep. Her chemise stretched over her impressive chest, hypnotizing him. Her lashes fluttered as if dreaming.

  “Here goes nothing.” Caid dragged his gaze from her breasts and focused on her face. When he pierced the alabaster flesh with the needle it felt squishy to the touch. Suppressing a shudder, he concentrated on the mission at hand. He was leery of putting too much pressure on the slender spike and tearing her skin or breaking it off in her face. Heaven forbid his fingers slip or she jerked around in her sleep and he poked the needle in her eye, exacerbating her injuries.

  Once he successfully completed a few stitches and drew the skin together, he relaxed fractionally, feeling somewhat better. He worked his way down toward her mouth so the needle was angled away from her eye. She would still need the services of a professional physician or she’d have an ugly scar from the middle of her right cheek to the corner of her mouth, but hopefully quick attention would mitigate the damage and prevent infection.

  After forty minutes that seemed more like forty hours, he finished. Exhausted physically and spiritually, he sank into a nearby chair and propped his feet up on the nearest console. He wiped the perspiration from his brow with the back of his sleeve. Rolling his head, he worked the kinks out of his neck and shoulders. “Remind me not to become a surgeon. I don’t want to do that ever again.”

  Vizzy munched on a smoked grizzard he’d pulled from Caid’s emergency rations, and spoke with his mouth full. The stuff stank horribly, making Caid wrinkle his nose. He knew it was ambrosia to Shelliks, but that wasn’t saying much considering their preferred dining was raw meat and roach-like greches.

  “Take it to your quarters, Viz.” Caid shifted around in his chair, trying to find a comfortable position. “Leave me and the wench alone for a spell.”

  Vizzy mewled and slunk away, his ears flat against his head.

  Caid touched his earring and activated the communicator. He sent out a distress call to any brethren within communication range to come to their aid.

  Chapter Two

  “Has Sleeping Beauty awoken yet?”

  Caid’s voice washed over Siobhan in her dream, but it was the big fuzzy monster that towered over her, shaking her when she forced an eye open. Vizzy patted her upper arm with his fuzzy paw, tickling her.

  Just great. She hadn’t dreamed this nightmare. She craned her neck, looking for his sidekick.

  Pain throbbed in her cheek, radiating to the rest of her head. Her stomach lurched, and she moaned when the hangover of the millennium hit her with full ferocity.

  H
er hand rose to her cheek and she touched it gingerly. The jagged crater had disappeared and puckered skin replaced it. Not that she was vain, but neither did she want to be mistaken for a Pretadorn. “Someone light explosive sticks in my cheek? Let me see a mirror.”

  “Can you stand? We need to disembark.” Caid stroked his braided beard. Something indiscernible flickered in his dark jade eyes that she couldn’t fathom.

  “Disembark? We landed?” She must have been unconscious for quite awhile.

  “That’s what I just said…” Caid shook his head but helped her up and out of the craft, steadying her with his hand under her elbow.

  Shuffling footsteps alerted her to visitors and she whirled around out of the pirate’s grasp, hoping the newcomers were friendly. A delegation of walking asparagus that topped Vizzy by a good foot quickly surrounded them. When a tall reedy woman snapped her fingers several times high in the air, she was admitted to the inner circle. She must be the station commander, or their queen. Immediately, several more walking stalks joined her, chattering away in high-pitched voices in a language Siobhan couldn’t comprehend.

  The commander pressed her com button with leafy fingers. “Welcome to Bonkive Station. I’m Commandant Usuyvia Gorkochelka, supreme commander. My name is a mouthful for you, thus you may address me as Commandant Gork. We would be pleased if you would accept our hospitality. Please join us in some refreshment.”

  Siobhan nodded coolly, giving the commandant due respect, wondering what form of refreshment this world had to offer. She searched her still fuzzy brain for a name, any name but her own to give the commandant. It would be suicide to divulge their identities even if the possibility was remote that they’d be recognized on such a remote world. She borrowed her grandmother’s maiden name. “I’m Zeyda Hanover of the planet Earth and this is Captain Jere…Jarod Sm-Smythe and his first mate, Abner.”

  “Abner, eh?” Caid hissed, lifting his brow at the Shellik and turning his head sideways. Escorting Siobhan, he grasped her elbow and followed the delegation toward a large dome-shaped glass building.

  Siobhan leaned close and her warm breath tickled his ear. “It was the first name that came to mind.”

  “How is your cheek? Are you holding up okay?”

  “It’s throbbing, but I’ll live.” She hoped. At any rate, it wouldn’t be the wound to her cheek that would bring her demise.

  “Maybe they have a doctor. No need to suffer unnecessarily.” He cleared his throat and asked in a much louder, gravelly voice, “Do you have a medic who has experience performing surgical procedures on humanoids?”

  Smiling, Gork nodded. “Most certainly. Our healer studied humanoid anatomy at the Confederation surgery conservatorium. His assistant is human.”

  Confederation? Not good. Eager to be rid of the searing pain and not wanting to chance infection, however, Siobhan didn’t protest. She’d met many fine humanoid physicians. Hopefully his association with the Confederation had ended when he’d accepted this post. If not, he would be too involved with her surgery to keep abreast of Confederation bulletins. Surely as a healer, he was not interested in politics.

  The commandant smiled benignly at Siobhan and patted her hand. “Come with me and I shall introduce you to our esteemed physicians.”

  After only a few steps deeper into the compound, a lieutenant rushed up to the commandant, his face a pale mint green. He handed a folded note to her. “We’re receiving urgent messages from the Confederation,” he said in a loud whisper.

  Confederation? This world wasn’t as remote as she’d hoped. She wondered why she’d never heard of it before if it was a member of the Confederation?

  Frowning, Gork read and re-read the missive. She turned, her entire torso leaning to the right, her leafy hair lying back on her skull. “This is an image of you…” Her amber eyes widened and her leaves stood at attention, bristling. “You’re that Commander Mallory, the one who massacred the civilizations on the Kaloba Space Colonies? The Mallory who’s trying to conquer the galaxy? What do you want with us? What are you doing here? Do you desire to assimilate us? Murder us?”

  “Captain Mallory is innocent…” Caid tried to intercede, but was prevented by a weapon pointed at his chest.

  “Guards! Guards! Apprehend the criminals!” Gork pulled a strange-looking weapon from her side and aimed at Siobhan. “We’ll let the authorities decide that when they arrive.”

  Trying not to move her lips, she said under her breath so that only the men could hear. “Guess this means the surgery’s off.”

  “You’re trouble with a capital T, sweetheart. Get to the ship now!” Caid yelled to Vizzy as he took off running, drawing his taser from his holster.

  When taser blasts whizzed by them, blowing up their own Bonkivian equipment and vehicles, Caid swore loudly. Shielding her with his body, he pushed her before him. “Get a move on, sweetheart. They must want you dead or alive. The safety’s off.”

  Cursing her impaired reflexes, she ran as fast as she was able. She stumbled, sure it was her death sentence, but Caid scooped her into his arms and hoisted her into the ship.

  Without ceremony, they fell to the floor in a heap.

  Vizzy slammed the hatch, latched it, and leapt over them with a roar. He turned around, frowned at Caid, and shook his large paw at them.

  Caid snarled, and bolted to his feet. “Save the lecture until later. Right now let’s just concentrate on saving our necks.”

  She agreed wholeheartedly.

  Phaton blasts rocked the ship, flinging her across the bridge.

  “Hold onto something. Hyperdrive is being engaged…now!” Caid pointed at Vizzy, and nodded sharply.

  Nothing happened except a pathetic whine when Vizzy gave the command. Caid slammed his fist against the console. “Not now!”

  Vizzy grabbed some tools and tinkered madly inside the console. Then he punched the controls and the ship jerked forward.

  She was flung across the open space and her blood spun as if in a centrifuge. She banged her head against the captain’s chair, and almost passed out. Dizzy, her vision fuzzy, and aching fiercely, she blinked.

  Caid helped her to the captain’s chair which she gratefully sank onto. “We’re going to have to strap you in from now on.”

  She treated him to a wan smile, and decided to ignore his sarcastic comment. “We got away?”

  Caid nodded, pride gleaming in his eyes. With a flourish, he pointed to the view screen, indicating empty space as far as they could see. “We slipped away clean. No ships are in scanning range. Where to now, sweetheart?”

  Siobhan released a pent-up sigh and rattled off the coordinates to a far quadrant of the galaxy to a remote environmentally hostile planet.

  Caid’s fingers flew over the controls. “I trust you’ll be worth it to go this far out of our way.”

  Infuriated, she scowled at his reference to her sexual performance. It would be far easier if he wanted the latinum. Every time she began to relax around him, he reverted to true pirate form. Unfortunately, she still needed him. Gritting her teeth, she said, “Trust me.”

  He guffawed and slapped his thigh. “Trust me she says!” Caid spoke to Vizzy. “I’m supposed to trust the most wanted criminal in the galaxy who just about got our heads blown off.”

  He snorted and swung back around to face the view screen. They were approaching the spectacular Hibistus Nebula.

  “Let me in there.” Siobhan’s fingers punched the top-secret coordinates to the Walderan System where her ship was supposed to be monitoring a hostile civilization. She positioned her body so that Caid couldn’t see the secret location and warn anybody about their approach. She didn’t know how much she could trust him.

  Caid leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest, regarding her somberly.

  “Drop me off at the nearest space station if you truly believe I’m guilty.” Disgusted and exhausted spiritually as well as physically, she rubbed her aching, throbbing neck.

  “You’ll get
your passage as promised, sweetheart. Can’t guarantee how safe with the entire galaxy breathing down our necks. I’m sure the broccoli stalk back there has alerted the Confederation forces by now.”

  Vizzy roared behind them and thumped his impressive chest.

  “Okay, listen up. Here’s the plan. We’ll ditch the ship soon as we find a safe port. We’ll have to disguise our friend here first though. Got any brilliant ideas?”

  Vizzy spread his hands wide and shrugged. He wrinkled his nose, ruffling his fur.

  “Got scissors and hair dye?” Maybe if she adopted raven hair or shaved her head no one would recognize her. The ugly scar puckering her cheek had turned out to be a blessing in disguise as it altered her appearance. Unfortunately, alone, it wasn’t enough to prevent detection from someone with a discerning eye.

  Caid’s gaze scoured the alien vessel. Indecipherable symbols were scrawled across just about every surface. “I don’t know. It’s not my ship.”

  She rummaged through the ship’s stores finding only a monk-like muddy brown robe. She slipped it over her head and pulled the hood low so that it concealed her face. When she viewed herself in a reflective surface, her face lay hidden in shadow and her form de-sexed by the heavy folds of fabric. It would have to do for now.

  That problem solved, her thoughts turned to her major dilemma. She buried her arms in the generous sleeves, crossing them over her chest and paced. Troubling thoughts bombarded her. “Tell me what you know about my supposed crimes.”

  “Only what everyone does, sweetheart—you have delusions of grandeur and a Napoleon complex. You want to rule the galaxy and you don’t give a care who you murder to get what you want.”

  She halted in her tracks, glaring at him. “Specifics, please. What planet? Or planets? When? How?”

  Caid leaned back in his chair, his hands linked behind his head. His grassy green gaze raked over her, making her insides squirm. “You really don’t remember?”

  She was frustrated that no one believed her. Or was she going mad? Doubts plagued her. Yet she had no gaps in her memory. But she’d be damned before admitting a shred of doubt to this freebooter. “I can’t remember crimes I didn’t commit.”