Page 40 of Taken to Kor
Tevbarannos stands up and shouts in panic, “I thought I heard Rhegaran. Did he say something about the humans?”
We all listen hard. Harder than hard. And so together, we all hear it. Herannathon and I exchange a look of horror, both caught in the same memory. The memory of stealing two unwilling human females onto our ship. We’d been prepared to honor them in shekurr only to realize…it’s a dishonor in their culture. And with that knowledge, we were all dishonored.
“Shrov! He’s at the tanks! And he isn’t alone.” Herannathon jerks. “Idiot!”
“Moron!”
“Oroshi-rutting madman!” Tevbrannos shouts, and we all crack at that.
We move forward towards the entrance as one single unit, but a voice that’s far, far too high a pitch and not spoken in native Meero makes me stumble when I hear it. And then when that same voice fires through my token crisp and clear, spoken to me directly and me alone, I damn near stroke.
“Heyya buddy. Rhork. Rhorky bear? You there? Tekana…wait. That wasn’t a thing. You can hear me.”
“Ontte, I can. Deena, where are you?”
“I’m down on level twelve…I think. Whatever. I’m at the tanks. Some of these pirate punks are trying to get at the humans. Real pretty ones, too.”
“Deena!” I shout, causing all five other males to turn their heads. “Deena, are you safe? Get out of there. They want you for shekurr…”
“What? Centare…I mean, no. I mean centare! I’m not…whatever. I’m just here to stop them.”
“Stop them!” I choke, staggering twice more, this time bringing me up to Gerannu. I grab wildly onto his shoulder. “What are you planning?”
“Well, that depends.”
“On?”
“On whether or not I have your permission to blast them. So do I? You promised me I’d get to shoot something…”
Laughter chokes my next order, making it sound like a joke. It shroving feels like it should be. Special? Is that what Herannathon called her? He has no idea. “Get down there,” I shout at the pirates staring at me in a shock I feel radiating through every muscle, every bone. “I’m telling you to move.”
The others exchange confused looks, but start to move. All but Herannathon, who lingers. He shouts, “Are they harming Deena?” The pirates all manage to look vexed at that.
I shake my head and answer on a half-laugh. “Centare. It’s our pirates. They’re the ones in danger. Deena discovered what they’re trying to do and is prepared to stop them.” I switch my focus back to Deena. “Centare, Deena. You donothave permission to shoot my pirates unless they’re trying to hurt you. Deena? Deena, I repeat, you donothave permission to blast anybody.”
Some shuffling, crackling, a wild whoop of laughter. And then cannon fire.
“Shrov!” I shout, bursting into a run as a stitch ripples up my side, bringing me to laughter, bringing me to the doorstep of pride.
She squeaks. “Opa! I didn’t mean to fire! But I didn’t hit anybody. I didn’t hit a tank, either. Just a big pile of supplies. Looks like some cases of that awful black syrup juice. Ugh. Good riddance.”
I’m laughing hard and my stomach is in my toes and I’m so shroving proud of her. I feel it in my throat, choking me like a four-armed headlock, refusing to relinquish its hold. “Deena, stand down,” I bark, but my heart isn’t in it. She’s a pirate. We don’t obey orders when we don’t feel like it.
“I don’t think so,” she answers, but I get the sense that she isn’t talking to me. Her voice is more distant. And she doesn’t call me Rhork. “Back away from the tank slowly. Put your hands up. Centare, not the upper ones, all four of them. I see the blaster, you idiot.”
Herannathon is running beside me as we reach the lift at the bottom of the next ramp. We squeeze in next to Gerannu, Erobu, andQuintenanrretwhile the yeeyar struggles to accommodate the rapid influx of people and move us down ten levels at the same time. He says, “Your female is fierce. We can hear her through Rhegaran’s feed. Is she blasting them or just threatening them?”
“It’s hard to say,” I grin. Then I raise a brow. “My female?”
Herannathon grins impishly. “I’m not so stupid to issue that challenge,Rhork. Besides, I think she likes you.”
“I…” I choke. I grin.
He laughs. The others laugh, too.
It’sQuintenanrretwho says, “She makes a fine pirate.”
“She does.”
