“What do you want?”
The Taurean smiled, showing a missing tooth, and started with the usual spiel. The we won’t hurt you or your crew if you give us what we want spiel.
But today it had more weight. Gark ground his teeth together in an effort to force down his protective instincts. His instincts to protect his mate.
Gark hit the mute button. “Jarden. Vox. Get us ready to get out of here. Arik?”
“Go ahead, boss.” The mechanic’s voice echoed, as if from a tunnel.
“Keep me updated, but don’t let them know we’re not dead in the sands yet.”
“Got it.”
He took a slow breath in, forcing himself to calm before he unmuted the pirates. Gark was struggling to concentrate on their demands when his mate—his mate!—was on his ship. His suppressed Gnaggarian genes—the part of him driven by scent—had been awakened by her presence. Whenever Gark’s Gnaggarian father had told the story of meeting his mother, he’d rolled his eyes and dismissed it as a tall tale. But now, his father’s words ran through his head.
Meeting your mother was the most profound experience of my life. It was like I’d found something I didn’t know I was missing, and the entire universe suddenly made sense.
Now Gark understood. He wished his father were still alive so he could apologize.
He shook his head, dismissing the thought, and unmuted, looking back to the viewscreen and their attacker, who had stopped speaking and was waiting expectantly. “You attacked a ship that was on a lawful retrieval job, and in the process, you’ve violated no fewer than nine interstellar laws.” Gark paused. “To get what, exactly?”
“The information you retrieved is of no value to you, so why do you care? We’ll pay you twice what you’ve been promised.” The Taurean crossed his arms. “Besides, we acknowledge no such laws.”
Gark bristled at the implication that he would break his word and sell to the highest bidder, even if he could do with the credits.
He might not ask questions of his clients, but Gark wasn’t stupid. He ran background checks through his contacts, and this job hadn’t revealed any of the usual shady characters. So either it was a legitimate collection, or he was inadvertently working for someone who knew enough to cover their tracks and do so extremely well.
He suspected it was the latter.
Gark had learned long ago that compromising your integrity was not something you walked back from. It lived with you for the rest of your life. Only if you were really lucky did you get a chance at redemption.
But the Taurean on the other end of the comm didn’t know that, so he played along. He didn’t need to engage with this fool, just gain some time for Arik to fix whatever these idiots had managed to damage in that lucky shot.
He pressed his lips into a thin line, tapping them with a finger as if considering the offer. “What did you have in mind?”
The Taurean stated a number that brought an incredulous grunt from Jarden.
Gark tilted his head. “That’s quite the offer.”
Far too rich an offer to be genuine, and Gark had dealt with enough pirate types to suspect it was a stalling tactic. Make the mark get excited about the windfall heading their way, kill them all, and steal the ship. He’d seen it before, many times. But that was usually for tangible goods, such as jewelry, precious gems, and rare ores, not for information.
He frowned, attention returning to the viewscreen.
“We’ll pay once we have?—”
“Are you Taurean?”
“More than…most.” The on-screen image zoomed in slightly, which exaggerated the way he puffed his chest out. “I’m from a long line of Taurean warriors going back?—”
Gark hit the mute button. More than Gark is what he meant. It was no secret who owned The Lady. In dock, there was always someone who wanted to comment on a half-breed being given advantages above his station. In comparison, being subtly told that he was less Taurean than this jumped-up idiot did not even make Gark flinch.
The comm light flashed from engineering. Ignoring the monologuing fool on the viewscreen, Gark opened the channel with Arik.
“Good to go, boss.”
Gark smiled grimly. “Fire her up then and let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Give me half a minute to run the first cycle.”
