Beyond Galaxy's Edge (2 page)

She was woman enough to admit she wondered what it would be like to have Justyn Phoenix spread out beneath her—naked and available for her hands to explore.

But she was a Patrol captain. An ambitious one who was good at her job. So she never let the fantasy go past that. She imagined what her father would have to say about
Phoenix. She winced. None of it would be good.

“Captain Sander?”

Her comms specialist’s voice came through her nano-earpiece. Nissa kept her gaze locked with Phoenix’s silver one and touched her ear. “Go ahead, Ensign.”

“There’s a Pri-One transmission for you. From HQ.”

A priority one meant something big. “I’ll be there in a minute.” She heard the distinctive step of Patrol boots headed
back into the cockpit. Tryker entered, his face dark. He shook his head.

Nissa sighed. “One of these days, Phoenix, I’m going to catch you with your pants down.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she cursed herself.

The laugh lines around his mouth deepened. “Oh, I hope so, Captain Smooth. I hope so.”

She gave his handsome face one last perusal, then looked at her team. “Back to the
Freedom
.” The teletrans flared and the last thing she saw was Justyn’s silver-gray eyes.

Back on the bridge, she strode toward her ops room off the bridge. “Ensign Gat’nar, put the Pri-One through to my private console.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Nissa pressed the palm plate beside the door. The ops room was actually two rooms—the larger main room with a glossy conference table, and an adjoining room
that was her private office. She loved that her office had a large, round window that gave a stunning view of space. Something inside her eased. The vista of the endless black—covered in a sprinkle of stars—never failed to speak to something in her. As she rounded her desk, she caught sight of the very back of Phoenix’s runnership. Her gaze narrowed on the engine intakes. If she wasn’t mistaken,
he had some not-strictly-legal modifications.

She shook her head. Justyn Phoenix wasn’t her priority right now.

Dropping into her chair, she touched the screen built into her desk. Admiral Carmel DeRuyter’s stern face filled the screen, her ash-blonde hair a sleek bell surrounding features untouched by the popular anti-aging treatments. DeRuyter had been a mentor to Nissa since her days in
the Galactic Security Services Academy. Nissa respected the older woman, who’d come through the Quadrant Wars with a slew of commendations, and was tougher than most sitting on the GSS Council. Most of all, DeRuyter was willing to do anything to protect the galaxy.

“Ma’am. What can I do for you?”

“It’s good to see you, Nissa. I wish I was calling under better circumstances. We have a situation
and you’re the closest ship we have.”

Nissa waited for the woman to continue, anticipation sending a flare through her blood.

“Exactly seven hours ago, the US Constitution document was stolen from the Galactic Institute of Historical Preservation.”

“What?” Nissa sat forward in her seat. “
The
US Constitution? One of the five Galactic Constitution Codices?” It was one of the most revered manuscripts
in the galaxy, used as a foundation for the Galactic Constitution. And it was priceless.

“Unfortunately, yes,” the admiral said.

“Do you know who took it?”

“We have some partial intel. Galactic Intelligence managed to intercept a transmission, but they only got a short section. We don’t know who stole it or why, but we know they’ve since passed it off to a gridrunner named Hewett Kenth.”

A gridrunner. A small transporter, not unlike Phoenix, who moved all manner of things around the galaxy. Usually legal cargo, but everyone knew that gridrunners were known to go off-grid and run all kinds of contraband.

Hewett Kenth was a familiar name. He ran through the Exodus quadrant in his runnership, the
Trader’s Dart
, and kept a small base at Galaxy’s Edge. She’d arrested him three times
in the past…no, wait a minute, four. “I know Kenth. He’s strictly small-time. I can’t see him getting involved with something like this.”

“Well, he must have decided to join the big leagues. He’s to rendezvous with someone at Galaxy’s Edge Space Station and hand over the artifact.” DeRuyter’s blue eyes glittered. “I want you to get it back and bring in everyone involved.”

“Yes, Admiral.”

DeRuyter smiled. “Pull this off, Captain, and I can finally arrange a transfer back to one of the central quadrants in your near future.”

Nissa straightened. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Update me regularly.” The screen went black.

Nissa stood and strode onto the bridge. “Get the interstellar drives up. We have a priceless artifact to recover.”

As soon as the
Mercury
docked at Galaxy’s Edge, Justyn headed for the door. “Gus, make sure you get that tobacco unloaded and over to Jesrit’s ship.” The merchant had already transferred payment . A nice little mountain of e-creds.

“You got it, boss.” The older man, an Edge resident who sometimes worked with Justyn, got to work.

Justyn hit the control for the door and strode
down the enclosed ramp.

His brothers were waiting.

“Surprised you aren’t in the brig aboard the
Freedom
.” Dare, taller and meaner-looking than either of his brothers, leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. His shifting silver eyes were always hard to read and filled with a dangerous intensity.

Justyn grinned. “I’m slippery.”

Rynan snorted. He was the same height as Justyn,
with the same muscular build, but Rynan rarely smiled. He was always too busy checking and rechecking their convoy ship’s weapons, flight paths and security to have fun. Or cleaning and polishing his guns and knives. He had a huge blade strapped to his thigh and twin ion pistols holstered at his hips.

For a second, a murky childhood memory flashed in Justyn’s head. The three of them, just boys,
trapped in the darkness, hearing the thud of heavy boots on the basement steps. Rynan clutching a sharpened piece of wood he’d fashioned into a shiv. Dare’s unwavering gaze never leaving the steps, his hands clenched into fists. Justyn’s heart was pounding so hard, he thought he’d be sick.

Rynan shifted, shattering the memory. “Funny that you work so hard to get loose when we all know just how
much you want to be caught by a certain Patrol captain.”

Justyn shook off the past and gave himself a brief second to imagine being completely at Nissa’s command. She was the most stunning thing he’d ever seen. He remembered the first time she’d boarded his ship, almost three years ago. He’d stared at her like some love-struck kid.

She had a reptilian ancestor not far back in her family tree
that had gifted her a long, sinuous body with toned curves that made his cock hard. Her head was completely hairless, covered in smooth, golden skin, and it suited her long, elegant neck.

She had patches of bronze, diamond-scale patterns on her forehead and cheekbones. It drove him crazy wondering if she had that pattern anywhere else on her body. He knew—from the few times he’d gotten close
enough to touch her—the pattern was just as smooth as the rest of her skin. Her eyes were yellow with an elongated black pupil. And her over-wide mouth…well, that had featured in his dreams all too often. And her smooth, smoky voice. There wasn’t much he didn’t find tantalizing about her.

Fucking gorgeous and out of his league. He sighed. “We all know that isn’t gonna happen.”

He pushed past
them and into Galaxy’s Edge.

The space station was a ramshackle, wild, floating hunk-of-junk far from the law-and-order of the central systems. It was a stopping-off point for explorers, smugglers, and anyone else looking to make their fortune out in uncharted space. Only the very courageous, the very desperate, or the very crazy, filled its halls.

As he strode down the corridor, his brothers
fell into step with him. Justyn noted the docks were busy today—filled with the bustle of ships’ crews, a group of robed missionaries, a young bunch of rowdy explorers and a lone cleaning droid fighting a losing battle against the rust and grit on the metal floor.

A young woman escorted by a security team—no doubt some wealthy merchant’s daughter off to an arranged marriage—glanced Justyn’s
way. He shot her wide smile and winked. A charming blush swept over her cheeks and she coyly dipped her head.

“You know, if you tried a bit of your charm on Nissa, you might actually get somewhere,” Rynan said.

Justyn swallowed a snort. “Nissa Sander is a Patrol captain, career GSS. She’d never lower herself to consort with a smuggler.” And damn it, he wanted more than an illicit roll in the
hay that would be regretted the next morning. “Besides, what makes you think I’d take advice on my love life from you? You never share your bed with the same woman twice.”

Rynan shrugged. “At least I have women in my bed. The action in yours has been sadly lacking of late.”

Justyn shot him the finger—an ancient custom that had never lost its popularity.

“Justyn.” Dare’s tone was deep and
commanding. And it made people listen. Perfect for a convoy master. Out in uncharted space, he held the lives of those on his convoy in his hands. He expected swift obedience and knew how to get it. “Are you ever going to act on the fact that you’re in love with Nissa Sander?”

Justyn’s hands curled into tight fists. He hadn’t admitted his feelings to anyone. But he should have known his brothers
would read him like an open holo-doc. They’d grown up together in hell, knew each other better than anyone could. “I’d ruin her life. Her career. Everything she wants. She doesn’t need a smuggler with his name on every anti-smuggling list from here to the Frontier quadrant.”

“You’re selling yourself short.”

No. He was in love with Nissa and that meant he wanted the best for her. And he wasn’t
the best. He scraped a hand through his hair. Damn, he needed a haircut. But he needed something else more. “I need a drink. First round is on me at Moonrakers.” Maybe if he got nice and drunk he’d forget about caramel-colored skin that he wanted to lick. And a wide, generous mouth he wanted to see wrapped around—

“Actually, we have a possible job…if you’re interested,” Dare said.

Justyn glanced
at his older brother out of the corner of his eye, interest piqued. He knew their next convoy out of the quadrant wasn’t for another week, so it had to be something else. A job would be a good distraction…and it would feel better than suffering a hangover and having to visit a medbooth to get rid of it. “Something need smuggling?”

“Nope. This is a retrieval.”

Retrieval? Now he was really curious.
“What?”

“I think I’ll let our cousins do the honors.”

“Cousins?” Justyn groaned. “Don’t tell me those glory-hound, treasure-hunting rogues are here.”

“They aren’t,” Dare said.

“They’re on the holo-com,” Rynan added, a faint smile on his lips.

Justin groaned again. “And they’re trying to suck us into some treasure hunt? Ever since we helped Malin and her cyborg steal that treasure a few
months back, they think we’re their own private treasure hunters.”

“Let’s just hear what they have to say,” Dare said.

They headed for the apartments they’d rented for their stay on the Edge. They didn’t keep a permanent base on the space station but Justyn had wondered if it would be a good idea to get a place. A place where he could actually keep a comfortable bed to fall into, maybe store
some of his things. Not on the space station. It was too busy and the security issues would make Rynan’s head explode. Maybe something on a planet or moon nearby.

What the hell? Justyn pressed his fingers to his eyes. Him settling down in one place? Not likely. He liked picking up and taking off when the mood struck him. He hated being locked in one spot.

The apartments were…rough. Bare and
spare. The gray walls were serviceable at best, down-right ugly at worst. The furniture had been new when the central systems were unexplored space.

Justyn strode over to an armchair and dropped into it. The chair adjusted to his height and weight. Or tried to. As the gears ground noisily, obviously in need of maintenance, he gave the armrest a thump. The chair finished its adjustment, and he
thankfully leaned back in it.

Rynan strode to the holo-screen set on the wall and pressed the controls. Dare leaned a hip against the battered table in the center of the room and waited.

It took a few seconds for the transmission to connect. The screen flared to life and the three-dimensional image of a downright beautiful female appeared. Justyn arched a brow and leaned forward. She was medium
height and from what he could see of her, she had a curvy little body. Dark curls cascaded over her shoulders and golden eyes glowed in a lovely face.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he drawled.

The woman smiled. “You must be Justyn.”

“At your service.”

Her lips twitched. “Glad to hear that.”

A man muscled in front of the woman, a dark scowl on his face. “Can it, Phoenix. She’s mine.”

Dathan Phoenix—infamous
galactic treasure hunter—was all lean muscle and dark hair. His blue eyes were hot.

Justyn smiled. Nothing he liked more than pissing off his formerly estranged cousin. “Scared she’ll take up with a better Phoenix?”

Dathan crossed his arm. “Nope. And she’s a Phoenix, too.” His scowl turned into a smile. “Justyn, Dare and Rynan, this is Dr. Eos Rai-Phoenix.” The smile turned smug. “My wife.”

Justyn slapped a hand to his forehead. “Eos, what the hell made you do something as stupid as marry this rogue?”

Eos’s smile radiated happiness. “Oh, just a pesky thing called love.”

Love. Justyn tried to imagine Nissa smiling as she talked about him. All his teasing feelings evaporated, leaving him with a sharp pain under his ribs.

“A pleasure to meet you, Eos.” Dare’s gaze switched from
Eos to Dathan. “How’s Malin?”

“Sickeningly happy living on Centax with her cyborg. She’s helping run the salvage yard there and Xander spoils her. Constantly.”

Justyn smiled at the thought of their tiny, salvage-mechanic cousin taming the deadly Centax Security cyborg she’d come to the Edge with on a treasure hunt. “And Zayn and Niklas?”