Starkissed. Part 1

Starkissed.

Lanette Curington.

Chapter 1.

Arreis aka Trader WorldMarch 2308 TST (Terran Standard Time).

A tankard of pale green Hykaisian ale smashed into the wall as Leith McClure stepped into the dimly lit tavern. A few drops splashed onto her leather survival jacket. She started to wipe them away with her bare hand, but the droplets bubbled and ate tiny holes in the sleeve of her favorite jacket.

"Don't touch it, Leith!" Steve Hanc.o.c.k warned. "That stuff is acidic to anybody except Hykaisites."

"So I noticed," she murmured, watching the liquor ruin the black jacket that had been a Christmas present from her parents three Terran Standard years ago.

Two bodies sailed through the air a meter in front of them and crashed into a table in the center of the smoky room. The triangular table, reinforced to take such abuse, remained on its three legs. The two Peridots saved their drinks by holding them to the side. They shoved the bodies to the floor and continued their conversation between snorts.

The victory bellow of a rogue Hykaisite drowned out all other noises as a Numerian dancer drifted by, its holographic costume of interwoven light beams leaving a vapor trail behind. It halted in front of Steve, fondled his crotch, and whispered in his ear. He smiled and laughed but shook his head. The Numerian floated to Leith and raised its hand. Leith caught the Numerian's wrist before it could touch her breast and indicated no with a quick jerk of her head. The Numerian shrugged and floated away.

The rogue Hykaisite ended his bellow with a coa.r.s.e growl and beat his chest five times. Just as he settled down, an argument broke out in the corner where a group of Danid Hybrids played Martian poker.

"Explain to me again why we have to meet the buyer here," Leith shouted to be heard above the noise.

Steve laughed. "Lighten up, Leith. Arreis is the hot spot of the galaxy. The planet isn't a member of the Galactic Alliance, so anything goes." His laughter died, and he gazed at her with eyes half-closed-a look he often wore when coming on to her. "If you'd let me, I could show you more interesting places than this."

"Not in this dimension," she snapped and turned away from him. She had never considered him as anything other than a friend, and his insinuations made her uncomfortable.

Steve moved around her until he faced her, only centimeters away. A red flush of fury replaced the expression she despised. "Someday you'l regret saying no to me. And the day will come sooner than you think."

Leith shook her head. She was tired of his ineffectual come-ons and s.e.xual innuendos and the look that did not appeal to her at all. "Why don't you call the Numerian? It might be impressed, but I'm not."

Steve's face twisted into a sneer. "At least the Numerian has an interest in s.e.x."

A twinge of uneasiness slipped up her spine. Steve became hostile at the first hint of a negative response to his advances. He knew the family business better than she, but she wondered if putting up with his att.i.tude was worth the aggravation.

Leith didn't like Arreis, more commonly known as Trader World, and its dens of iniquity where she floundered out of her element. She glanced at her Terran Standard watch, another gift from her parents. This one was meant to ease the transition from full-time student to running McClure s.h.i.+pping. If she were back on Earth right now, she would be enjoying a lecture by a favorite instructor. The university- cla.s.ses, lectures, and studying-was her world.

"But why here?" she persisted. Refusing to acknowledge his insult, which meant not acknowledging him, was the best way to get under his skin. "I know there are quieter places on Arreis. I saw several cafes and restaurants where we could meet without all the-the distractions."

A chair flew across the room and disintegrated against the broad, muscular back of the Hykaisite. He turned his s.h.a.ggy head and, with a war cry, jumped from his seat to charge the brawling Hybrids.

"There he is." Steve nodded toward a table against the far wall. His anger had cooled, and he spoke to her in a friendlier tone. "Your father has always met this customer in this establishment. The Zi are fanatics for ritual and tradition."

"Zi!" Leith grabbed Steve's arm, stopping him in mid-stride. "Are you serious? The Galactic Alliance has sanctions against the Zi as well as the Crucians because of their continual state of war."

Steve shrugged. "Hey, their loss is our gain. Your father's been dealing with the Zi for years. You'l have to take it up with him. Me, I just follow orders."

Too late now, Leith thought and let his arm go. Oh, why hadn't she asked Steve who they were meeting this time? Steve told her the appointment was with a valued customer and on Arreis as usual. Leith didn't want to run the company and left nearly everything in Steve's capable hands. When her parents said to follow Steve Hanc.o.c.k's advice, that he knew McClure s.h.i.+pping inside and out, Leith took them at their word.

So far, everything had gone smoothly. She followed Steve's lead and let him handle the details. She wasn't even curious enough to ask who the customer was or what cargo they carried. She never dreamed they would be trading illegally.

"That big yellow and brown fellow is the Rep. Oh, yes, the Paxian is here. The Paxian is always with him," Steve commented as they waded across the room and dodged a staggering Hybrid. "The Rep is a little stuffy, and I hear they dominate their females, so he may take exception to your presence. If he refuses to deal with you, don't antagonize him. I'l handle it."

Rep was a derogatory term for the Zi, who were humanoid in form but of saurian descent. Leith had never even seen a Zi. Not many people had because they were a closed and secretive culture and preferred not to mingle with off-worlders. Neither Zi nor Crux was a member of the Galactic Alliance, so very little was known about either of them and their cultures.

As Leith and Steve approached the table, the Zi and the Paxian stood.

The Zi was big, about 230 centimeters tall. High black boots with thick soles and heels added to his height. Dark gray trousers, war jacket, and gloves, tucked into a broad belt around his waist, were made of a durable wool-like fabric. For extra warmth, Leith a.s.sumed, if he remained true to his cold-blooded ancestry. A hexagonal patch of glittery gold-on-black set high on each shoulder, their symbols indecipherable to her.

Yellow and brown were too bland to describe his coloring. Tawny, Leith decided, and umber. Both colors etched over his glabrous head and hands, the only visible parts of his anatomy, as if a master artist had painted him tawny, then shaded the subtle scaling of his skin with dark umber.

Leith's gaze lingered over his elongated face, taking in the chiseled contours of chin and jaw and the arched ridges protecting the tympanic membrane on each side of his head. His brow protruded slightly, and Leith suppressed the urge to reach up and run her fingers along the crest. In the sweeping hollows created by prominent cheekbones and crested brow, exotic saurian eyes of clear amber stared back at her unblinking. She had the feeling he had studied her as meticulously as she had him.

"Where isss Cameron?" he hissed.

"My father is ill." She took a deep breath and wished she were anywhere in the universe but here. "For now, I'm handling the business."

The Paxian's sleek black feathers ruffled. He wore a voluminous cloak to protect his wings.

"I am called Corru." Most Paxians chose names that were easy to p.r.o.nounce because the Pax language consisted of birdlike twitterings that most could not mimic. "This is Commander J'Qhir, the Warrior of Zi."

"Leith McClure." Before she could decide if offering her hand would be a requirement or an insult, Steve propelled her into the seat closest to the wall. He took the chair next to her as Commander J'Qhir reclaimed his. The Paxian drew heavy curtains together, enclosing the table to ensure their privacy, then sat down.

The Commander's saurian eyes had not left her. She, too, found it impossible to look away from him.

"I have alwaysss dealt only with Cameron," he said stiffly.

Leith hid her disappointment. The way his eyes penetrated hers she had expected him to say something quite different. She shrugged, trying to show she didn't care one way or another. It would be a relief not to have to deal with the Zi at all, but she couldn't reveal even a hint of that feeling. "As I said, my father is ill. I'm in charge, and I have the cargo. Take it or leave it. I'm sure we can find another buyer."

She waited for him to call her bluff.

Beside her, Steve fidgeted nervously. "Now, wait a minute. We seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot here-or claw, as the case may be," he said and laughed hollowly.

The Commander blinked once and slid his eyes, void of amus.e.m.e.nt, to rest on Steve. Leith had the impression that the Commander would like nothing better than to take his "claws" and wrap them around Steve's neck for that remark.

Surrept.i.tiously, she glanced at the Zi's hands resting tensely on the table. Remarkably human in shape and form, they couldn't really be referred to as claws. He had four fingers of varying lengths and an opposable thumb, but his nails were blunt talons and tinted pale gold.

Suddenly she was aware that he was looking at her again, and she met his gaze boldly. "Do you want to go through with the deal or not? If not, there's no point in wasting our time-yours or mine."

Leith was surprised how harsh she sounded, but refused to make amends. Perhaps the Commander would take offense and call off the arrangements himself. She started to rise.

The Paxian made a chittering noise, and the Commander looked at him, nodding solemnly.

"I have no time to argue with younglingsss. The cargo isss needed by my people." He brought out a black velvet pouch and cleverly undid the complicated knot in the silver cord. He turned the pouch upside down and poured the contents on the table.

A dozen polished gems danced across the surface. Brilliant fire, red sparks radiating outward, glowed within the center of each crystalline stone. The Zi jewels!

Leith fell back into her chair. Collectors slavered over the chance to obtain one. The rich and the famous, from vid stars to royalty across the galaxy, coveted the prestige of owning one. She was no connoisseur, but even she could see the innate beauty in the stones. She held one against the dim light. It blazed brighter than a laserlight beam. She could only dream what one would look like in full sun. Carefully, she returned it to the others.

Steve, mesmerized by the sight, cleared his throat. "I see you brought the required amount."

"Yesss," Commander J'Qhir hissed. "I brought the amount ssspecified when la.s.sst we ssspoke."

His sibilant speech had intrigued her from the moment he first spoke, but the obvious resentment in this last comment made her take her eyes away from the brilliant gems to rest upon his face. Were the slits in his amber eyes narrower than before?

The uneasiness she felt from the beginning had grown to a strange undercurrent of disturbance. Something was wrong between the Commander and Steve, but she couldn't pinpoint it. They didn't like one another, but it was more than that. If she got out of this alive, she swore she would ask more questions next time. Her premonition was so strong, she was certain none of them would survive unscathed.

The Paxian sat with slender hands folded on the table, his humanoid fingers long and graceful. He had expressed no interest in the gems, had not even looked at them when the Commander spread them out. Resembling a human more than the Zi, his eyes were round, a beautiful shade of blue, and yet they didn't seem real, as if they were gla.s.s replicas.

His feathers ruffled. "Perhaps we should proceed."

A peacekeeper. She should have known, of course, since it was the reason his world came to be called Pax in Terran Standard. She sensed the Zi Warrior trusted him, but his primary function was to act as a mediator if the meeting threatened to explode. His calming influence ensured that each side came away satisfied. Leith relaxed a little, comprehending the unlikely pairing of Zi and Paxian. Paxians were often used as peacekeepers when opposite sides were more likely to let their pa.s.sions overrule common sense.

"Our carrier is docked in Bay 3," Steve said, unable to take his eyes off the gems.

"My warsss.h.i.+p isss in Bay 24." The Commander gathered the jewels and returned them to the pouch. Deftly, he retied the cord into the intricate knot. "My crew isss ready to transssfer the cargo."

"And our crew is standing by," Steve replied.

The four stood. One of the few moments when the Commander took his eyes off Leith, he looked at the pouch clutched hard in his fist. "For my people," he murmured and, bypa.s.sing Steve's outstretched hand, gave it to Leith.

She tried to say thank you, but the words would trivialize the sacrifice of the jewels. Instead, she bowed her head briefly. His only response was his unblinking gaze.

"Uh, let me have them, Leith. I have the security belt," Steve said eagerly.

Too eagerly, it seemed to Leith. Reluctantly, she handed them over. Next time, she vowed, she would wear the security belt. The jewels would be safe. An ear-piercing alarm would sound if the belt was stolen. If forced open without the code, incapacitating electrical charges would be the thief's reward.

Grinning smugly, Steve placed the pouch inside the cavity and keyed in the code. Ashamed of Steve 's eagerness to obtain the gems, Leith couldn't meet Commander J'Qhir's eyes. Didn't Steve know how difficult it was for the Commander to relinquish them? Or was it that Steve just didn't care? Only the need for the cargo outweighed the value of the jewels to the Zi.

Disgusted with herself for not asking what the cargo was, Leith could only a.s.sume they carried weapons. What else would a technologically inferior society at war need? She had heard all the stories of how the Zi were out to conquer the Crucians and rape and plunder the lush world of Crux. Their own world was hot and dry, little more than sand and rock, and they were running out of resources. The Crucians tried to compromise by sharing their bounty, but the Zi wanted it all.

Why had her parents agreed to trade with them? Supplying weapons to the Zi was a serious offense. If caught, they would all go to prison for life, if not face execution. What could they have been thinking?

If she returned to Earth, she would have a long talk with her mother...

Her sympathy dissipated. The Zi Warrior deserved whatever befell him, but she didn't. Oh, she knew pleading ignorance would not save her. She'd hang along with the rest of them. It wasn't fair she found herself in this predicament. However, it was her fault for not asking questions.

"It will take a few hours to transfer the cargo," Steve said as they prepared to leave. "Would you like a tour of the carrier? It's the latest design, Galaxian cla.s.s, and the newest addition to the McClure fleet."

What had possessed Steve to make the offer and prolong contact with the Zi? Leith was anxious to conclude this unpleasant business and return to Earth.

The Commander's response was even more puzzling. "Yesss, I would like to compare it to my warsss.h.i.+p."

"Corru, would you care to join us?" Steve extended the invitation.

The Paxian shook his head, feathers ruffling then settling. "Thank you, no. I have another appointment this evening."

Halfway across the room, Steve stopped suddenly and Leith almost b.u.mped into him. He glanced toward the farthest corner where a group of four or five humans gathered around a large table.

"Are you looking for someone?" she asked, raising her voice to be heard above a Biian harp being played too loudly.

Startled, Steve whirled on her. "I, uh, thought I saw someone I knew, but I was wrong."

They waited while the Peridots crawled through the door, then stepped outside. After the smoky, smelly interior of the bar, Leith drew in several deep breaths of crisp, clean air. She felt as if she hadn't taken a breath for hours.

Corru took his leave of them, grasping arms with J'Qhir and shaking hands with Leith. He disappeared into a dark alley. Steve led the way to the s.p.a.ceport, walking ahead a few steps. With his long legs, the Commander could have outdistanced them both, but he matched his stride to Leith's. He stayed so close beside her their jackets occasionally brushed.

The few humans who came into contact with a Zi reported experiencing an innate aversion to them. Because of their saurian eyes, she supposed. Vertical slits for pupils surrounded by amber were distinctly different from human eyes, but Leith felt no repulsion when she looked at the Commander. What should repulse her was his warrior status, the Zi trying to conquer the Crucians, and this particular Zi involving her parents in illegal trading. That should make her furious.

Yet, there was something about this quiet, dignified male that contradicted all of these thoughts. She couldn't feel repulsion or fury toward him no matter how hard she tried or what reason she could think of to justify such feelings.

She felt something else and refused to identify it.

Leith frowned into the dark night, illuminated only by a sky full of stars and the pale double moons hanging overhead. They had only a few more hours, and then Commander J'Qhir, Zi Warrior, would be out of her life for good. She wouldn't have to wrestle with her conscience any longer.

J'Qhir trod slowly beside the human female, the sa'aloh. He had expected to meet with Cameron as usual. He had often spoken with Hanc.o.c.k to make arrangements, but Cameron would be present when the time came to make the exchange.

Unprepared for the sa'aloh youngling, he had been rude. He had broken one of the major tenets of The Zi Warrior: Be prepared for anything and all things and do not allow the unexpected to overcome. He had allowed the unexpected presence of the sa'aloh to jeopardize his mission.

He should, of course, report himself to the Council of Elders, but he was too old and had been the Zi Warrior too long to put himself at the mercy of the Council over a minor transgression. The mission would be completed to everyone's satisfaction, which was the important thing. He had recovered his senses enough to accept the sa'aloh and her price.

Of course, Cameron had nothing to do with the cost increase. J'Qhir could accept inexperience as an excuse, but not greed. Yet, he had seen no greed in her wide blue eyes as she held the jewel to the light. He saw reverence and the comprehension of how precious the jewels were to his people. Hanc.o.c.k was as avaricious as a Crucian, and J'Qhir expected no less from him. The sa'aloh, however, acting in Cameron's stead, had to know of the increase and approve.

He tried to summon disgust for her and the price she demanded, but he could not find it. He glanced at her. His eyes were made for the night, and he could see nearly as well then as during the day. Deep brown hair cascaded down her back, s.h.i.+mmering in the double moonlight. Ivory skin glowed starkly against the dark colors of her clothing. He caught a whiff of her scent. By the sands, it was familiar but he could not place it.

His vha'seh tightened. How long had it been since his body had responded to a sa'aloh? Too long. The war and the demands of his position weighed heavily upon him so that he had no time or inclination to seek another lifemate after the death of T'hirz.

Now, his inclination was increasing of its own volition.

"Commander, will you return to Zi tonight?" Her harmonious voice broke their comfortable yet unbearable silence.

"Yesss," he hissed curtly, not knowing why.

She said nothing more, obviously stung by his discourteous manner. He could not blame her. He raised his eyes to the stars. He did not know how to conduct himself with this human sa'aloh.

He had spoken to few sa'aloh'az in his life. His mother, long dead, had rarely spoken to him after he reached adulthood. Even before he reached maturity, she had little say in the upbringing of her male offspring. She was a perfect Zi sa'aloh in all ways. She knew her place and kept any opinions, if she had any, to herself.

So also had been T'hirz, his lifemate. His binding with T'hirz had been arranged by his father. The daughter of a Council Elder, he had never seen her before the arrangement had been made. She had never spoken in his presence until the ceremony and, afterwards, she had spoken only when spoken to. She had never expressed curiosity about what he did, whom he saw, or where he went. He had found no fault with T'hirz's response. Was it not the expected behavior of a lifemate?

They had been bound for less than a season, their physical matings brief and painful for T'hirz. Then, before he ever knew if the seed he planted would bear, she sickened and died.

Shortly thereafter, his father died as well. Enshrouded in sorrow, he had suddenly found himself appointed the Warrior in his father's place. A dutiful son, he could not refuse the honored position any more than he could have rejected his arranged lifemate.

The appointment came in the middle of the Second War with the Crucians. By the time it had come to an end, any thoughts of finding another lifemate were long forgotten. He had decided it was unfair to subject anyone else to the all-consuming life of the Warrior. Besides, those sa'aloh'az he had known, who would have made perfectly acceptable lifemates, were all bound to others. He would have had to settle for another arrangement and-with all due respect to his father-this he would not do. Thus, he resigned himself to a solitary existence.