Shadower (35 page)

"How you going to do that?"

"I'm challenging you to a fair fight. You and me, no weapons. We head to the nearest base and see how tough you really are." He was going to enjoy pounding Pax into atoms.

"You're crazy. I'll see you in hell before I let you have a go at me. As a matter of fact, think I'll send you on your way right now."

Pax discharged an accelerator beam. Sabin sent Chase's ship hard to port. Not quite fast enough. The beam grazed it, shaking it hard. Blazing hells. He checked the damage as he switched on his diagnostic panels. The beam had hit the starboard storage bay. The ship's systems were already sealing off the area.

"Consider yourself warned, Pax. Don't fire on me again, or I'll retaliate."

"You're a dead man, Travers."

He had another incoming transmission. Watching for Pax's next move, he disconnected and answered the new hail. "Travers here."

"Hey, Sabin. How's it goin'?"

"Radd! Why are you contacting me? Is it Lionia?"

"Naw. Chase got her all fixed up. Just thought ya could use some information."

"I'm pretty busy right now, trying to avoid destruction."

"Listen, the 8400s maneuver a lot better to starboard. It's the distribution of the armaments and the—"

"Whoa!" Sabin swerved sharply starboard as Pax discharged another accelerator beam. Radd was right. The ship was more responsive in that direction.

"Ya still there?"

"Barely. Any other advice you'd care to share?"

"Yeah. Ya know that your new ship has more firepower that McKnight’s does."

"Do tell!" Sabin did an evasive maneuver, but not quickly enough to avoid being grazed by another beam.

"Ya can’t beat Pax with a direct assault, but ya can take him out with your lasers, providin' ya hit the right spot."

"It's great to know my new ship has weaknesses," Sabin muttered, sending his craft into a dive to avoid another strike.

"Hit him just forward of the rear thruster. The hydrogen drive is vulnerable right there. A laser hit will cause a major reaction. Blow him to bits."

Blow him to bits.
Blow
his
ship to bits. Sabin had limited choices. He could battle it out, risking Chase's ship and his life—not good odds since he was out-classed in weapons. He could retreat and hope to catch up with Pax at a more opportune time. Or…he could end it now.

Destroy his own ship
. His dream. He had worked twelve seasons to see his dream realized. Moriah's face flashed in his mind. Her panic, her terror. Her frantic words:
Nobody, ever again, is going to lay a hand on me.
Just thinking about what she must have suffered at this bastard's hands made his gut clench. If Pax got away, it would be next to impossible to find him.  He’d continue terrorizing women, and Moriah never be free. She'd always know he was out there. There would be no justice for all those women.

His scanning equipment indicated Pax was through with laser strikes and powering up his torpedoes. It was now or never. Sabin maneuvered into position to aim at the rear of the ship. He activated the lasers, then locked on target just forward of the rear thruster. His ship. Twelve long seasons. His ship, his home. The only thing that had ever truly belonged to him.

Deep down, he knew the ship was just an inanimate object. It had represented things he'd always craved, but had been denied him. A family, stability, relationships. His ship would have provided an emotional haven, without the risks. But Moriah had shaken up his world, made him care, made him want something more, something outside just a spacecraft. He wanted her—just one more thing he couldn't have.

Moriah.
Nothing could ever undo what had been done to her, or countless other women. And blowing up this man and his ship couldn't either. Yet Sabin knew he couldn't let Pax's atrocities continue. Pax was a rabid krat; he needed to be put down.

Sabin thought of all the women who had been assaulted, by Anteks, by shadowers, by the lowlifes of the quadrant. He thought of Moriah. He held the image of her face in his mind…in his heart. "This one's for you, Mori." He discharged the laser.

The screen indicated a direct hit. Nosing Chase’s ship around, he fired the thrusters and hurtled away. He watched the external scanner as he sped to safety. Nothing happened for a moment. Then a huge fireball filled his viewscreen.

Pax would never terrorize anyone again.

It was dark on Saron, but McKnight was waiting outside when Sabin stepped down off his ship. "Did you get him?" his partner asked.

"He won't bother anyone again."

McKnight raised his brows. "Your ship…?"

Bone-weary, mercifully numb inside, Sabin blew out his breath. "Pax’s incinerator."

His partner stared at him a long moment. "Sorry."

"Me, too."

McKnight stepped closer to his ship, raising the solar lantern he carried. "Do I see a scorch mark here, Travers?"

One thing Sabin liked about McKnight—he knew when to change the subject. "That's nothing compared to the storage bay on the other side. Ought to keep Radd busy for a while." He winced and eased the pressure off his throbbing leg. "How's Lionia?"

McKnight started around his ship. "She's stable. I'll suture your wound in a moment. Have to see the damage before I decide whether or not to deaden the leg first."

"I'd better get drunk then," Sabin muttered.

He turned to see Moriah by her ship's ramp, watching him. The night was clear, Saron's massive moon illuminating the area. The light reflected like a halo off her hair. She looked surreal, ethereal, like a vision at an oasis. He felt an inexplicable pull to her, despite her obvious loathing for him. He limped over to deliver the news.

She stood as still as a statue, but he had learned her cool exterior hid a cauldron of emotion and spirit. He knew better than anyone how her experiences with Pax and her father had shaped her. He also understood that her animosity toward him stemmed from those experiences. Sadly, he didn't think he could overcome her beliefs about shadowers.

In reality, after today, she probably wouldn't want any male getting close to her. Being held hostage by the man who had once terrorized her, feeling his hands groping her body, would have revived the horrible memories and the trauma.

He halted beside her. "You'll never have to worry about Pax again. He's dead." He hadn't intended to be so blunt. But their relationship had shifted irrevocably, severed by deception and prejudice. There was nothing else for them to say to each other. He started to walk away.

"Sabin."

He stopped, waited.

"Thank you."

Sincerity reverberated in the husky timbre of her voice. Feeling an odd catch in his chest, he turned to face her. "He had it coming," he said gruffly. "Sooner or later, someone would have gotten him."

"But you took care of it," she said softly.

His chest constricted. "Someone had to."

"What about your ship?"

The emotions he'd carefully dammed up threatened to burst through. "It's gone." He clenched his fists, went for levity. "Easy come, easy go."

She stared at him, chewing her bottom lip. He had to get out of here. "I'd better let McKnight doctor my leg."

"Wait." He halted again. "You need a ship. I think it's only fair to return your old one."

The one she had stolen—twice. All he needed right now, a reminder that Moriah was a thief. It would make the separation easier. "Yeah, I would like my ship back."

"And the least I can do is give you a ride to Risa to get it. Chase said something about heading for Verante as soon as you returned with his ship. That's the opposite direction from Risa, and I owe you a ship."

Sabin didn't know if he could stand being in close quarters with Moriah for three cycles. Knowing she despised him, knowing he couldn't touch her, couldn't ever have anything other than a singular, lonely existence. He wasn't even sure he could trust her. As bitter as she was toward shadowers, he might end up in the body harness, sedated, or worse.

But he had obligations to his fellow Shielders. If McKnight was going after Dansan and headed for Verante, it might be a full lunar cycle before he could take Sabin to Risa. And after those fourteen miserable cycles spent with McKnight, he wasn't sure he could stand his partner's company that long.

"I'll take you up on your offer," he said. He'd retrieve his ship. Then he'd put Moriah behind him for good and get on with his life.

Alone.

*  *  *  *

She couldn't comprehend why Sabin had gone after Pax, destroying his own ship in the process. She tried to tell herself it was because Pax had cheated Sabin out of the bounty on Galen and had stolen his ship. Perhaps he'd cheated Sabin on other occasions and they had a long-standing vendetta between them. Shadowers were known for their vindictiveness.

Moriah held the Thermaplant between her hands, sharing her life force with it. The plant's waxy fragrance drifted to her. Sabin had given her this beautiful flower. He had replaced her torn rhapha. He had stroked his hands over her body, held back taking his own pleasure until she found her own nirvana. He had destroyed her tormentor.

Where was the cruelty, the violence—the hallmarks of shadowers? Why, when she looked at this particular shadower, did she see honor and compassion? Painful indecision, conflicting emotions, battled within her. She didn't know what to think or feel anymore. She needed time to regroup, calm the storm within, deal with her grief over Kiah.

The alert sounded a warning of an approaching ship. Probably the Leors, rendezvousing to receive the iridon. She set down the Thermaplant and prepared to greet Commander Gunnar. The ship slowed and came around to dock as she stepped from her cabin into the corridor. Sabin was piloting, having taken up residence in the cockpit. Since the ship's only two cabins were occupied, he'd been sleeping in the captain's chair.

Rather than endure his presence, it seemed simpler to turn over the piloting to him. She kept a close watch to be sure they stayed on course to Risa. But she avoided the cockpit—avoided Sabin—for the most part. It was too unsettling to be around him. Not that they spoke much; they maintained a stilted silence most of the time.

Lionia and Radd emerged from their cabin. Lionia's chest was still bandaged and she moved stiffly. Radd made sure she got enough rest and didn't overexert herself. Zarians did not make good patients, but he seemed to be able to deal with Lionia's frustration over her enforced inactivity. Hers acceptance of him into her life still amazed Moriah. Actually, Radd had fit into the camp without upsetting the women. He had the uncanny ability to appear nonthreatening and to smooth ruffled feathers.

The ship thudded. Docking was complete. Moriah strode to the airlock. Commander Gunnar stepped through, two Leor warriors behind him. His intimidating frame towered over her. He wore a cape loosely draped across his bare upper torso, and his bald head glinted beneath the lights. His icy, obsidian gaze swept her, like a probing black hole sucking the soul from her body. Then his perusal moved to Lionia, Radd, and Sabin, who stood outside the cockpit. He turned back to Moriah, and she met his chilling stare.

"Captain Cameron."

"Commander. May a thousand suns bestow their warmth upon you."

"I would see the iridon now."

She indicated the bays on each side of the airlock. Gunnar checked every crate, opening the special alloy containers and examining the hunks of ore. Finally he nodded to his men and they began transporting the crates to their ship. Radd and Sabin assisted, while Lionia watched, her hand resting on her dagger.

Moriah and Gunnar moved to the other end of the corridor to complete the transaction and transfer credits into her account.

"Commander, I would request a favor," she ventured when the transfer had been made.

"What?"

"I have a crew member—a valued, cherished crew member—" Her throat clogged. She took a moment to compose herself, "Who died bravely and honorably, defending the iridon. She was a Leor."

"A female Leor was under your command? I find it hard to believe she would leave her clan. Was she mated?"

Moriah clenched her fists against her thighs, pushing back the grief. "Yes, your lordship, she was. Her mate…abused her. She chose to live away from him."

Gunnar's expression turned ominous. "You will tell me everything. This matter will be investigated."

"I'll share what I know. I am asking, for Kiah, that you take her back to Dukkair with you. Bury her with honor among her people. She would want that."

He considered, nodded. "Your actions have been trustworthy, Captain. I will accept your word that Kiah is deserving of a warrior's burial. Where is the body?"

A great heaviness settling in her chest, she showed him the bay containing Kiah's coffin. Sabin and Radd had fashioned the crude box on Saron. Moriah and Lionia had carefully placed Kiah's body inside, along with her bow and her armor. They had each wished their friend a good journey through the spiritual planes.

Moriah stood back as Gunnar's men took Kiah and carried her to their ship for her final flight.

Good-bye, my friend.
Guilt assailed her. Kiah's death was her fault. She should have listened to Sabin and taken greater precautions. Instead, she'd chosen to believe he was lying for his own selfish purposes. Now it was too late.

She held herself in check while Gunnar and his soldiers departed. Lionia and Radd returned to their cabin. But Moriah stood frozen, staring at the airlock. Anguish ripped through her chest. She felt desolate, bereft. Turning to go to her cabin, she saw Sabin, leaning against the wall, watching her.

She could have dealt with his usual nonchalant arrogance. But the concern and compassion reflected on his face crumpled her defenses. She struggled for control. She wouldn't break down in front of him. Gathering her dignity around her, she walked to her cabin, brushing past him.

"Moriah."

His deep voice, filled with sympathy, reverberated somewhere deep inside.
I won't show any weakness. Not to him.
"Leave me alone, Travers." She gained the sanctuary of her cabin, her emotional grip slipping perilously.