Pure pleasure washed through me at my master’s praise. He thought I had done well. He saw my value. He wasgratefulto me. And most importantly, I had successfully kept him from harm. This was turning out to be one of the best days of my entire life.
CHAPTER THREE
Aiden
He was a combat specialist. Fuck me sideways, he was like a finely tuned robotic assassin, or some shit. I’d never seen anyone move like that in my entire life. And the way he’d changed colour, plunging into the deepest black I’d ever seen, was like watching one of those CGI horror movies the Derelians kept making. I was suddenly thoroughly grateful he was on my side.
I trudged through the jungle, putting one foot in front of the other, trying to get my head around whatever the fuck Kade actually was. I was going to have to read that damn operations manual at the first available opportunity.
Unfortunately, given the shit show that was our current mission, the first opportunity was likely to be when we were safely back at the base in a couple of days’ time.
“How many weapons do you have on you?” I asked, glancing back over my shoulder.
“Eight,” came the entirely matter-of-fact reply. “Mostly knives, but also a knuckleduster and a length of chain.”
“Huh. Good to know,” I said, for lack of a better reply. What the fuck was I supposed to do with a dimari who was a combat specialist? All of the dimari I’d heard about were more like domestic servants, trained to cook meals and wash clothes, meek and unassuming.
Then again, what the Alliance knew about the dimari was seriously lacking, given the fact that all of the ones that arrived on Rendol 4 ended up committing suicide within a couple of years of bonding to their masters.
And that was why I was so on edge, every time I apparently did something that Kade wasn’t expecting. He’d been uncomfortable when I’d asked how he’d changed his colour. He’d been almost offended when I’d bungled the fact that I hadn’t known about his combat skills – as much as adimari would ever allow themselves to express such an arrogant emotion as offence. When I’d asked him to call me Aiden, he’d damn near had a heart attack. If he figured out that, far from being his intended master, I was an ignorant noob who knew almost nothing about him, he’d probably sink into a pit of despair within a couple of short weeks.
But as much as I hated the slave trade that I’d inadvertently become a part of, all of my anger was focused on the Eumadians; the bastards who enslaved the Vangravians and brainwashed them into lives of servitude. I actually felt a great deal of compassion for the dimari themselves. It must be terrifying, being shipped off to an unknown planet where you didn’t know anyone, to become completely dependent on another person. A person who might treat you with kindness and respect, or who might be a complete asshole and make your life a misery.
I didn’t want to make Kade’s life miserable. But based on the horrifyingly high death rates among his kind, it was clear that humans – or any other Alliance species, for that matter – were woefully ill equipped to be good masters.
And case in point, dragging him through two gunfights and three days of jungle survival was about as bad an opening to our relationship as I could imagine. Fuck.
Well, at least he seemed physically fit enough for the journey. I’d long ago learned not to judge other species based solely on their physical appearance. The yellow and black Wasops – what Revier had been – were small and slight, generally no more than five feet tall, but they were easily twice as strong as a human. The Sedgegeds, on the other hand, had long claws on their hands which looked fearsome, but were entirely ornamental. They were hinged, so that if a Sedgeged actually tried to stab anyone, the claws would just bend backwards, rendering them completely harmless.
But so far, at least, Kade was easily keeping pace with me, and the brief battle he’d had with the Culrads hadn’t winded him in the slightest. So I was going with the assumption that he was at least as hardy as a human, and most probably a little better.
I glanced back at him again – under the guise of making sure he was keeping up – and honestly, if I hadn’t known what species he was, I would have easily mistaken him for a human. His skin – or rather, scales – were a little darker than my skin, but a fairly close match. He had short, black hair, shaved almost to the scalp down the sides, with a bushier section on top. Kind of like a fauxhawk, I supposed. His ears were pointed, and a little larger than a human’s, and they twitched constantly, as he tracked the sounds in the forest around us. The only major difference between us were his eyes. They were blue, but such a pale and vivid shade of blue, it was like staring into the depths of a glacier. They were stunningly beautiful.
I forced my mind away from the problem of how to care for him and back onto monitoring our surroundings. Kade’s hearing was apparently significantly better than my own, but that didn’t mean I could delegate the task of keeping track of any would-be attackers. This was supposed to have been a routine reconnaissance mission, albeit with the ever-present threat of the Geshtoch, but with my two teammates dead, I could not afford to get sloppy.
Finally, after another hour and a half of the slow, trudging half-walk, half-climb, the hulking shape of the Eumadians’ damaged ship came into view. It was a dull grey colour, long and wide, and it had carved an impressive groove into the hillside, taking out dozens of trees before finally coming to a stop halfway down the slope. The hulking mass of the ship loomed above us… but then a more careful inspection revealed that it wasn’t nearly so big as it seemed. The near wall of the ship was more or less intact, but the other side had been ripped completely away, and a few glimpses through the roof showed tattered struts and frayed metal sheeting. There wouldn’t be much left inside worth salvaging, but we might get lucky and find some electrical equipment or medical supplies that were worth having. Rendol 4 tried to be as self sufficient as possible, but on a planet that was only partially terraformed, shortages of various things were inevitable.
I stopped, gesturing for Kade to get down, as I lowered one knee to the ground. With the Culrads wandering the jungle looking for lost cargo, caution was vital. I pulled up the radio on my comm. “Kent, you there? Over.”
There was no reply, and then three gunshots sounded from further up the hillside. “Fuck,” I swore, grabbing my rifle off my shoulder. Then I glanced at Kade. “Do you know how to fire a gun?”
“Yes, Master,” he replied, without hesitation.
Perhaps it was crazy to be giving my pistol to a man who I’d only met a couple of hours ago, purely on his say so that he knew what to do with it, but having seen his skills with the other group of Culrads, I was inclined to believe him when he said he could handle a gun. I drew the pistol from its holster at my hip and handed it to him. “The safety’s on,” I advised him. “And three of my guys are up there, so don’t shoot anything that’s not a Culrad.”
“Yes, Master,” he said, already moving stealthily up towards the ship. I followed, feeling a little embarrassed about the way I shimmied and slipped, while he was as sure-footed as a cat on a garden fence.
Halfway there, my radio crackled. “Kent here. We’re pinned down outside the ship. Three Culrads inside. Where are you? Over.”
“On my way up the hill, with the Vangravian. Can you show me your location? Over.”
Up on the hillside, I spotted the flicker of metal reflecting sunlight. They were sheltered behind a shattered chunk of the ship that had cleaved off on its journey down the hill. “Got it. Over,” I told Kent.
“We could use the backup,” Kent said, sounding a little more stressed than was typical for the seasoned soldier. “Kent out.”
A few more shots echoed out over the hillside, but they sounded more like warning shots than actual attempts to kill someone. “Did you see that flash up there?” I asked Kade.
“Yes, Master.”
