Zero's Heart (Lathar Mercenaries: Warborne Book 1) Read online

  “Yeah. Caught that.” Red spared her a look as she reached the top of the ladder. Not one for conversation then. Eris cast about for something to say.

  “I’m Red. But guess you caught that too.” The alien woman’s lips compressed as something sparked deep in the panel. “Draanth it! This wiring is fucking screwed.”

  “Anything I can help with?”

  Red shook her head and gave a small grunt. “Almost done. Then I can show you what you came here for. ‘Cause I’m pretty sure you didn’t come down here just to introduce yourself again.”

  A flush warmed Eris’s cheeks. “That obvious, huh?”

  Red chuckled and then grimaced as she twisted something deep in the panel. “There, that should do it. It’s that fucking idiot Fin’s fault. The wiring in his quarters is on this loop, and it’s dodgy. He’s constantly overloading the fucker so I have to go in there and fix it.”

  Eris kept her mouth shut on that one. The way she’d reacted to Sparky hitting on Fin… yeah, there was history there for sure.

  Red closed the panel, shoving her tools into belt loops. Her ship-suit was tied around her waist, the wifebeater vest she wore showing off muscular development Eris could only dream of.

  “Looks like you work out a fair bit. Is there a gym on board as well?” she asked as they made their way down to the lower level. “Could do with testing out the patch job your medic did on my legs.”

  Red nodded. “Same corridor as the galley, carry on to the end. It’s just a couple of storage spaces knocked through, but it’s well equipped. Cardio machines, weights. Sparring mats. Just…” She looked Eris up and down. “If you’re planning on dropping Zero on his ass, make sure to ping me. Okay?” She tapped her bracer-mounted wrist comp. “I’ll record it.”

  Eris chuckled. “Yeah, right. You do know he’s a cyborg? There’s no way I’d be able to take him down. I’m only human. And female.”

  “Pffft… Then cheat.”

  Eris arched an eyebrow. She’d have pegged Red for straight down the line, must be better than men to be as good as men. “Isn’t that…well, a little unfair?”

  Red shrugged. “Then call it… adapt and overcome. It’s not your fault that most males have in-built stupidity when it comes to females. Show a tear, and their protectiveness comes rushing to the fore. If all else fails, flash your boobs and that shuts down all their higher brain functions. That’s when you double-tap them between the eyes.”

  Eris about choked. “I don’t want to shoot Zero.”

  “Yeah, well… Obviously, don’t do that on the Sprite,” Red advised as she strode across the floor to the other side of the cargo bay. “Probably best you don’t flash your boobs either unless it’s at Zero. Not unless you want a blood bath on board.”

  “No! Definitely not!”

  She might not know Zero too well just yet, but she knew enough to know he was the possessive type. Which was cute. On him. Not anyone else. She’d never wanted a guy to be all possessive over her before.

  Then her attention was hijacked by the dust-sheet-covered form by the back wall. It was a familiar height and shape.

  “Is that?”

  “Uh-huh. Go ahead,” Red motioned her forward. “She’s a lovely bit of kit. It took me a while to figure out some of the systems but… color me impressed. You humans have some solid engineering kudos under your belt.”

  Eris reached out for the sheet, butterflies in her stomach as she pulled it clear. Now she was back on her feet, her attention, like any good soldier’s, had turned to her equipment and weaponry. She might not be in the military anymore but that didn’t make her any less of a soldier.

  But… she forced back her wince as the sheet started to slide. She hadn’t been kind to the old girl. It was old tech and hadn’t seen action for well over a decade. There was no way she should have taken her into combat, and she wouldn’t have if those SO13 assholes hadn’t declared war on her.

  The suit had dealt with it like a champ, though. She’d been just as smooth to pilot as Eris remembered, responsive as hell, but she’d taken a battering. The armoring Eris had used to replace what was missing hadn’t been the heavy-duty level that was on it originally, so she’d taken hits. Too many. The damage reports on her visual display when she’d finally made it to the Aegis airlock had been damning.

  The sheet hit the floor and she slowly lifted her gaze, bracing herself for the sight of all the damage. But instead of the bullet-holed panels and busted servos she’d expected, the suit gleamed. Her panels were straight and true, though not unmarked. She could see where repairs had been made, the bullet holes still decorating the suit’s hide, but they’d been filled somehow.

  “What the…” she breathed, reaching out to run her hand over the metal skin. It was smooth. She couldn’t feel the difference between the old metal and the new. Her gaze clashed with Red’s in curiosity.

  “We got a few tricks up our sleeves humans don’t. We got all the internal and external damage fixed. And gave her an extra layer of armor.” She tapped one of the filled bullet holes.

  “Nano-molecular tri-chromidium,” the alien engineer said as if that should mean something to Eris.

  “The who what now?”

  Red gave an apologetic grin. “Sorry, forgot most people don’t speak engineering nerd. Basically, your suit now has a thin layer of stretchy metal armor as well. If it takes a hit, the nanolayer registers the shock of the impact and reinforces itself at that point for a millisecond. It flows to where it’s needed and then resets itself. Kind of like when you punch sand, it hardens for a moment?”

  Eris nodded. She’d never been near sand nor felt any desire to punch it, but the explanation made sense.

  “Thank you so much. You have no idea how much this means to me. So… when can I take her for a test drive?” she asked, itching to get behind the “wheel” again.

  Red chuckled. “You sound like you’re Warborne born and bred. As soon as Tal signs you off, she’s all yours. Promise.”

  The trade outpost on Praxis-Four was quite possibly the shittiest location Eris had ever seen. And that was with a career filled with being stationed in shitty places. Hell, she’d even take the ice-moons in the Trinaxis system over this place, which was saying something.

  Praxis-Four was a desert planet, but not the nice type filled with picturesque golden sand dunes and sparkling oases. No, it had the honey-badger version of sand. Sand that got all up into everyone’s nooks and crannies and totally didn’t give a shit. It was the kind of sand that only needed a little encouragement and a slight breeze to shot-blast flesh from bones. Which was the reason she and the rest of the Warborne landing party had every square inch of skin covered.

  Each of them wore a heavy coat over their ship suits, which, she was amused to discover, bore the logo of an outer system gas haulage company. Pant legs were tucked into boots and sleeves into gauntlets to cut down any access the sand might find on the walk from where they’d hidden the shuttle out in the dunes to the outpost. Scarves and goggles covered their heads and eyes, all their features hidden. They blended in with the other inhabitants of the outpost, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She’d been worried she’d be spotted and recognized from the wanted announcements, or that the Warborne would be identified as aliens.

  She needn’t have worried. No one gave them a second glance as they walked along the main street. Well, nothing more than was normal for a hauler crew from out of the system anyway. They attracted the usual level of attention. Eyes watched them from the shadows and shielded doorways, assessing whether they could be lured down a side alley and relieved of whatever valuables they were carrying.

  That interest waned when Skinny and Zero brushed aside their outer coats, revealing heavily loaded weapons belts. Suddenly they became less interesting than the sand that swirled and danced around their ankles as they headed for the central plaza of the outpost.

  “Anyone have a bead on the hole Beauty’s likely to have disappeared down?” Skinny a
sked over comms, his voice deep and rich in her ear. His tone and inflection were almost spot-on for Terran. During casual conversation she wouldn’t have picked up he was an alien, but the more she listened to the Warborne talk between themselves, the more she picked up the odd inflections and phrasing that marked them as non-Terran speakers.

  Except Zero. His speech patterns were entirely human. It must be because of his cybernetics. He’d only told her a little about his internal systems, but if half of what he’d said was true, he wouldn’t have any problem picking up languages.

  “He said something about checking out the market,” Red replied. “Something about getting some Terran history books or something.”

  There was a collective groan from the others.

  “Again?” Skinny shook his head. “He’ll have to sleep on the damn things soon.”

  “He can download books from the communal servers,” Eris commented. “If it’s real books he’s after… yeah, he might get something from the flea market. There’s usually one in places like this.”

  Skinny turned. Even though his face was covered, the horror was evident in his voice. “Terrans sell fleas? Seriously… what is wrong with you people?”

  She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face, hidden by her scarf. “Are you kidding me? There’s a big market for them.”

  “Right on,” Sparky joined the fun, a glint in his eyes behind his goggles. “Pedigree bloodlines and all sorts. A good flea will cost you your left bollock and then some. Breeding tips are passed down through generations.”

  “Fleas…” Skinny shook his head again, only to have T’Raal punch him lightly in the arm.

  “They’re teasing you, you dumbfuck,” he chuckled and then turned to check. “You are teasing. Aren’t you?”

  “Yeah, we’re teasing.”

  “Awww fuckit,” Sparky grumbled. “We could have kept that going for hours!”

  “Really, you all make it too fucking easy,” she laughed, enjoying the moment. It had been too long since she’d had this kind of camaraderie… fifteen years. Her humor faded and she nodded toward the comms tower. “I’m going to need to head there to pick up my message. Catch you all at the flea market?”

  “I’ll come with you.” Zero moved to her side instantly, his tone firm. She didn’t argue. It would be kind of nice to have someone to watch her back for a change. Especially in a place like this.

  “Cool,” T’Raal nodded. “Stay alert and on comms. Any problems, shout… lurve machine.”

  Zero flipped him the bird and the three Warborne ambled off with Sparky, still laughing, in the direction of the flea market.

  Despite their casual act, she noted the aliens still moved as a team, aware of each other and their surroundings as well as the human in their midst. It was easy to see they had military training, but nothing about them or the way they moved pinged her senses—either those from her former life as a soldier or her current one as a security chief.

  Correction, former security chief, and now wanted criminal and suspected terrorist.

  Shit, that was going to take some getting used to...

  12

  “Let’s get going.” Zero nudged her arm and they started walking.

  It didn’t take them long to reach the comms tower, just a few minutes’ walk, but by the time they’d reached it, all her senses were on high alert. Unfriendly eyes watched them. She just hadn’t worked out yet if it was the kind of unfriendly that would start shooting at them. If so, the new alien laser-blasters strapped to her hips were a reassuring weight. Even if they weren’t actually laser-blasters. Zero and the other Warborne had rolled their eyes when she’d insisted on calling them that. And she’d joined them, ignoring Sparky making pew-pew-pew sounds back in the ship’s airlock.

  She slid her arm through Zero’s, cuddling up close as though they were a couple. Well, she guessed they were, really, but that wasn’t why she’d suddenly gotten all touchy-feely. He smiled down at her, the pleasure in his expression genuine, but she spotted the awareness there anyway.

  “We’re being followed,” she murmured under her breath, smiling up at him as he held the door to the comms-tower office open for her. Pantomiming a curtsy, she swept inside like some gracious old-world lady, but she made sure to scan the room circumspectly in the same movement.

  “Roger that,” he replied, his voice relayed by the comms unit hidden in her ear. It felt low, intimate and she winked at him over her shoulder. He followed her through the door at a slower pace, a mock-leer on his face as he ogled her ass. She laughed and headed for the clerk’s desk, stripping off her goggles, scarf and gloves as she went.

  The office was the same as thousands of stream offices the galaxy over. Office beige panels covered the walls, the fake potted plants painted on in an attempt to create a calm and productive environment. The floor was plasti-concrete, a track of ingrained dirt leading her right to the clerk’s desk. Like the call booths lining the walls, it was bolted to the floor. Rough neighborhood then.

  “Hey there!” she said brightly.

  The clerk looked up. His expression—somewhere between bored, and “when does my shift end?”—didn’t change as he looked at her.

  “Welcome to K-Comms streaming. How can I help you today?”

  The greeting was delivered in a dull monotone until the last word, which had a lilting up tone as out of place as a high society debutante in a marine barracks.

  She gave him a winning smile. It was best never to piss off people like this. If you did, a routine thing like redeeming a message could become an hour-long task. “I’m here to collect a message? Message code—”

  “Name?”

  She blinked. Okay, that wasn’t normal. She’d expected to input her code and a grunt as he waved her toward a booth. Normally these people wanted as little to do with you as possible. You were lucky if you got anything past the required company greeting.

  “I have a redemption code?”

  “Yeaaaah,” the clerk clicked the top of his pen a couple of times. Rapid-fire. His expression didn’t change, but the movement said everything she needed to know about his unusual request. Someone was paying him on the side. Had to be. “I’m gonna need your name. New rules.”

  “Kasra Emerton.”

  He frowned. “Kasra?”

  “Uh-huh.” She gave him an innocent, wide-eyed expression. Two could play games. “Name I was born with.”

  She sighed, thrusting her hip out and pouting as she studied her nails. “Now d’ya want this collection code or not? Cause my ship’s gonna be putting in at Centaris in a couple of weeks, so I can just hit up the stream tower there…”

  She let the sentence trail off, watching his expression out of the corner of her eye. Comm relay companies only got paid on collection, so if she went with a rival service, he’d lose the commission on the message. And in a place like this, every script counted. The question was, was that commission worth more than whatever he was being paid to find out her name? Or would he go for both...

  “No…” he caved with a sigh. “No, that won’t be necessary. Redemption code?”

  She tried not to give him a smug smile. Probably failed. Made no difference either way. A couple of minutes and they were out of here. “Sierra-seven-three-four-nine-echo.”

  He tapped the code into the screen in front of him and then nodded toward the booths. The light above one of them turned green.

  “You’re in four.”

  She nodded her thanks, ambling that way. Zero leaned against the wall by the door. He gave the tiniest nod. Given his… unique abilities, she was sure he was monitoring the street outside. Good, at least she had a little time to recover this message.

  Opening the door into the booth, she avoided the gaze of the guy in the next cubicle. Leaning against the glass, he was obviously hooked into one of the porn-streaming services, his shoulder shaking from the action of his hand behind the screen. He leered at her, so she slapped the privacy button, and the glass
frosted.

  “Asshole,” she muttered to herself as she faced the screen. Words scrolled over the screen in green.

  Message redemption in progress. Identification code: Sierra-seven-three-four-nine-echo. Please enter confirmation sequence.

  Her hands raced over the keyboard as she keyed in the code she’d memorized. The keys were sticky. She tried like hell not to think why, especially with the current activities of her neighbor in the next booth… Suddenly she wished she’d left her gloves on. She’d need to bleach her hands when they got back to the ship.

  “Come on, come on…” she muttered under her breath, watching as the logo on the screen circled. And circled. And circled.

  The longer it took, the more her shoulders tightened. Something was wrong. It shouldn’t be taking so long. Perhaps the clerk hadn’t been paid to find out her name, but to keep her here long enough to call for backup.

  The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Like… SO13 backup.

  The door to the booth behind her was yanked open, making her squeal softly in surprise. Zero filled the frame, expression grim.

  “We’ve got company. We need to move now.”

  Before she could answer, the console behind her bleeped. She yanked her gaze from Zero’s back to the screen.

  Message downloaded. Thank you for your business.

  “Done,” she replied, yanking the data-strip from the port. It glowed green at one end to indicate a successful transfer. She shoved it into her pocket. She’d have to listen to it later… when they weren’t in imminent danger.

  “What’s going on?” she whispered to Zero as he hustled her across the room toward the door. She didn’t look but she felt the clerk’s eyes on her all the way.

  “The rest of the cre—” He didn’t need to finish the sentence. The sound of a firefight back the way they’d come made both their heads snap around, one particularly loud and very human voice bellowing obscenities.