Page 35 of Shielded in the Shadows

It sounded like she was trying to convince herself as much as me, but I didn’t point it out.

I covered her hand with mine and squeezed with what I hoped she felt was gentle reassurance. “Get some sleep, Captain.”

After a beat, she took her hand away. I missed her touch immediately.

“I’ll clean up,” I said when she reached for her dishes. “Go on and get some rest. Would you like me to make you a relaxing tea to take with you to your cabin? I saw some in one of the cabinets.”

“I’ll make my own tea.” Halfway out the cockpit door, she paused and said over her shoulder, “But thank you.”

And then she disappeared in the direction of the galley. The door to the cockpit hissed closed between us.

“You’re welcome,” I said softly. “Mate.”

Hidria was indeed a lifeless hunk of rock.

I was already awake and sitting in the cockpit with a mug of tea when the ship dropped smoothly out of hyperspace, approached our destination on a long arcing trajectory, and settled seamlessly into orbit.

I complimented Siber on the flawless navigation. The AI seemed pleased by the praise. I’d win her over yet.

The view from the cockpit wasn’t much at the moment—one stripped planet and a vast field of black space and distant stars—but I preferred it to the blank walls of the crew cabin.

I sat in the copilot’s chair with my boots propped on the edge of the controls and a datapad in my hands, reading over the file Siber had compiled on Forval IX and the failed terraforming project. It made for surprisingly fascinating reading.

Forval IX was a primeval world by any metric. Its land masses had been formed by volcanic activity and were little more than barren rock. During the planet’s winter season, more than seventy percent of the surface disappeared under a thick layer of snow and ice. Due to volcanic activity, the atmosphere was toxic to most life forms. Images and video of the planet showed very clearly that it was inhospitable in the extreme. The few researchers who’d braved a stay on the planet reported the native flora and fauna were as vicious and deadly as the environment.

A Fylorian university had constructed a single habitable research station on the surface in the northern hemisphere. Images of the station showed a heavily fortified facility comprised of four connected domed structures. The weapons mounted on the exterior testified to the planet’s dangers. According to the file, the facility hadn’t been staffed in almost a decade.

Since it was outside Alliance space, Forval IX would be subject to attack from any number of hostile forces—if there had been anything there worth fighting over. But there wasn’t, which made it simultaneously a highly questionable choice for a terraforming project and an ideal candidate for crime syndicates to establish the kind of arenas that were now illegal on all Alliance worlds.

It had been the mention of arenas that had nearly caused my mate to go into shock.

The doors to Keela’s cabin had remained shut and secured for more than six hours now. Siber had responded to my inquiry about my mate’s status and reported the captain was indeed asleep and not just locked away brooding or using her datapad. Apparently, the ship’s AI and I had found some common ground when it came to Keela’s health and well-being.

In the meantime, before Keela emerged from her much-needed sleep, I wanted to know everything there was to know about Forval IX.

According to the file Siber had prepared, a consortium called Rendex had been behind the terraforming project. On the surface, both the consortium and their colonization goals had initially seemed legitimate. It was only when the costs of the project far exceeded estimates and additional funding suddenly appeared that suspicious officials dug deeper and uncovered the connections between Rendex and three known crime syndicates.

An informant from within one of the syndicates—who’d died in a shuttle accident not long after speaking to investigators—had revealed the true goal of the terraforming project: arenas dedicated to unrestrained bloodsport, barracks for fighters that were nothing more than prisons, and luxurious hotels, restaurants, brothels, and other amenities for the wealthy visitors who attended the games and wagered on the outcomes.

With costs skyrocketing and an unwanted spotlight now shining on the project, Rendex had abruptly pulled the plug on their Forval IX plans six years ago and gone quiet.

Once I’d finished reading, I got a fresh cup of tea from the galley, returned to the cockpit, and thought about what I’d learned.

The Alliance might have eradicated all gladiatorial games involving conscripted fighters and enforced those laws, but there were countless worlds outside Alliance space where no such laws existed. Forval IX was only one place where the kind of arenas Rendex and their investors planned could be built. It begged the question: had those plans simply been refocused somewhere else?

And how did Keela fit into all of this, if at all?

Between her reaction to the prospect of arenas operated by crime syndicates outside Alliance jurisdiction, her skill set, and the name she’d given her ship, I had a theory brewing about Keela’s past—specifically, her planet of origin. And the more I thought about it, the more the theory fit, and the more rage at those who’d harmed her burned in my gut like plasma.

Given her secretive nature, Keela probably wouldn’t react well if I questioned her on the topic. Unfortunately, I suspected it was about to become necessary.

A nagging thought that had burrowed its way into my brain and wouldn’t let go was whether Keela’s possible homeworld, the bounty on her head, and the failed arena plans were connected. I had nothing to support that theory yet except gut instinct and what experience had taught me about coincidences—namely, that there were no such thing.

About an hour and a half after we’d arrived at Hidria, I heard the soft sound of the captain’s cabin doors opening and closing and footsteps crossing to the galley. I listened as Keela prepared something, walked to the other end of the corridor, and went into what sounded like the cargo bay. A few minutes later, she returned to the galley.

Finally, the cockpit door slid aside. The rich scents of fresh-brewed coffee and my mate filled the air.

Keela’s chuckle made my tail flick. “I see you’ve made yourself at home.”