Barbarian Pirate. Cecily Royce

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      Chapter 1

      Chayara crouched behind the crate in the ship's storage hold, not quite holding her breath. She'd managed to sneak on board this vessel from the supply and repair station where the ship had docked, taking advantage of the sloppy way they'd guarded their hold after loading their supplies. If the ship needed repairs as well as supplies, the wait for it to leave the station could be a long one, but she was trusting to luck that departure would be sooner rather than later. After all, luck had gotten her this far.

      And her luck turned bright and shiny again when she felt the sudden throb of engines and heard the clang of ports being closed and locked. The engines would need only a short time of warm-up to match the short time the ship had been docked, but that very short amount of docking time suddenly felt odd rather than lucky. Wasn't anyone taking leave on the station, not even the ship's officers? That wasn't the way it usually worked.

      "But it's too late to change my mind," Chayara muttered as she sat down on the cold and dirty deck, pulling her pack closer. "Not that I would change my mind even if I could. This was the only ship likely to leave before the next Patrol ship showed up, when everyone on the station would be asked for identity papers. They would have found me no matter where I tried to hide, and that would have been it. At least now I have some kind of chance."

      A chance to get as far away from where she'd come from as possible, without anyone knowing what she was doing. She had to find her uncle Leron, a man she hadn't seen in eight years, but one who was also her father's twin brother so she'd have no trouble recognizing him. Uncle Leron had given her the name of a planet and its sector when she had seen him last. Finding him on Verena—not to mention getting to the station—might be hard, but so far her luck had carried her more than halfway. Freighters weren't comfortable to travel on, but they covered large distances and were convenient enough for a stowaway.

      Like this newest freighter she'd found. The supply hold wasn't as gigantically large as the hold for freight, but it had to be kept filled with air because supplies were constantly needed for the crew. And it had a sanitary facility just like the larger hold, there to be used in case of an emergency while crewmembers were loading or unloading in the area. The sink provided drinking and quick-bath water, and Chayara carried tablets of food concentrate that was actually better for people than ordinary food.

      And my occasional stops on stations let me shower and get my clothes cleaned, Chayara thought, also deciding to wait another few minutes before looking for a place to sleep. So far there had always been something soft in the hold to use as bedding—softer than the metal of the deck, at least. But she would not help herself to any of the food in the hold, even if she had started to dream about sitting down to a normal meal. The loss of a small amount of water might get overlooked, but if food rations started to disappear the crew would begin a search and she could not afford to get caught.

      Thinking about searches, Chayara suddenly realized that she didn't need her hand torch to search for something to sleep on. The lights were still on in the hold, which was most peculiar. If the loading crew forgot to turn out the lights when they were done, the oversight was always corrected by the bridge crew as soon as the ship was underway. This time, though, something was different. She just wasn't sure what yet.

      "Don't make a single move toward that pack," a cold male voice said from behind her, making her blood turn even colder. "Lace your fingers behind your head and sit perfectly still."

      Chayara lost no time in putting her hands behind her head and lacing her fingers together, cursing hard in her head. This was the first time she'd been found, the only time she'd been found, and she couldn't understand how the luck could have deserted her. It wasn't like ordinary luck, after all.

      "You were right, Dron, it is a female," the cold voice said as the man who owned it moved around to where Chayara could see him. He was big and dark, with black hair, eyes and skin, and he held a high intensity stunner that obviously came from the empty holster strapped to his thigh. Stunners were used aboard ships in place of more deadly weapons to keep the hull from being breached by an accidental discharge, but that usually meant ordinary stunners. The high intensity sort had different СКАЧАТЬ