Chapter 3

One thing telepaths, at least ones nearer to my strength, have a hard time doing is sleeping. Maybe that’s the real reason I do what I do, and do it with almost no crew; because I don’t have all the thoughts of other people floating in the air for me to pick up on and fold into my dreams. There isn’t much I can truly do about it when I sleep, except put up with the dreams that often aren’t my own. I was in the middle of one of these dreams, unusually a good and erotic one, when I woke, sitting upright in bed, my chest heaving but not from lust.

From fear. I hadn’t felt hostile intent this strong in a very long time. I rolled off the bed and jerked on my clothes. I strapped my belt and holster on as the intent grew stronger. No, not stronger. Nearer. Sometimes it’s hard to separate the two, but now that my pulse had calmed down and my breathing slowed, I was sure. They, definitely they, were closer. One mind was familiar to me, my tail from yesterday, Cyan. The other I didn’t recognize at all, but as I threw my coat on and drew my blaster, I was sure that one was Cyan. Again, she was broadcasting loudly. They were sure they would catch me while I was asleep, and then have an easy time forcing me to do whatever they wanted, like get them access to Shadowhawk.

I knelt behind a wall that gave me a clear view of the door but hid me from view. While I waited for them to get to the door, I did some deep breathing exercises to get my pulse under control, and my thoughts in order. Cyan’s companion was much quieter with his thoughts, but he wasn’t a telepath, didn’t know he was up against one, and that was a hurdle so low I didn’t even notice it. He was planning to be the first through the door, to let Cyan keep watch, and he was planning to do the dirty work. I switched focus to Cyan, and mentally swore. I didn’t have time to isolate her motor controls, and having her suddenly start spasming and orgasming in the corridor might draw attention. So, as her partner began to hook a hack module to the lock, I did what I could to fixate her on something at the far end of the hallway, a shadow or a light.

The door opened, and her partner slipped into the room. One hand was in his jacket, stuffing wires inside, and his other held a large combat knife. He moved slowly, cautiously, watching corners. This wasn’t his first kidnapping or break and enter, I was sure of that. But, a knife against a gun ay twenty feet was no contest. I carefully sighted on his head, and gently squeezed the trigger.

A heavy blaster pistol like mine has a distinctive sound. It isn’t loud, though in a confined room early in the morning it feels like it is. It also doesn’t shoot a deadly laser beam. The amount of power needed for a powerful laser beam is the kind of thing you find in a starship, not a small hand cannon. Blasters fire bolts of superheated hydrogen, easier to produce, far less power needed, and they cauterize the wound. They also have the punch to penetrate a body, but not come out the other side and put a hole in your tin can in space.

The thip-WHOOM of the shot filled my room, and the blue bolt lanced across the room, caught him in the side of the head and dropped him to the ground. Cyan ran into the room, no way my little distraction would hold against gunfire, and this time I went for the full force, grabbing her mind in my own and forcing her to stand board straight. I leapt past her and slapped my hand on the door panel, closing it for some privacy. Her mind was panicking, trying to fight my command to stand STILL and STRAIGHT and NOT MOVE. She had no chance, no choice.

She was dressed in the same outfit as earlier, but this time she had a short jacket thrown over top of it. Her mesh top and the bra underneath was a deep royal blue, and her pants were still tight and shiny black with her knee high boots. I could feel her struggling against my iron-clad grip on her mind, but she had no training. I walked slowly around her, and deeply enmeshed in her mind as I was, I felt her worry for her virginity, her safety. I didn’t bother to reassure her. If time wasn’t as much a factor as it was, I would have enjoyed her there for sure, but her contacts would only wait so long before trying to get in touch with her.

I patted her down, immediately taking the blaster from her hand, and tossing it on the bed before taking my time to pull her shirt up and slide my hands inside her bra. Her small breasts were perky and firm, her nipples rapidly responded to my touch. Her breathing picked up, and I felt her internal disgust at her own reaction to my touch. I left her shirt up and slid my hands along her pants. I found no weapons or the line of panties as I slid my hands over and between her legs, and her face flamed red during my exploration. In each boot I found a combat knife, but rather than take them from her, I left them in place.

I stood in front of her and realized for the first time that she was only 5’ 3” as I gripped her chin in my hand. I stared into her eyes, not that eye contact was needed, and focused on her thoughts. I told her that she WOULD reject all calls on her communicator, she WOULD follow me, being pleasant and companionable with me, and that she WOULD NOT cause trouble. Each command was delivered with the force of a sledgehammer. Part of me regretted using that much force, but the rest of me knew that it was pointless to wish for anything else.

I grabbed her pistol, a lighter model than my own, and stuffed it back in her holster, then rearranged her jacket to cover it. I paused for a second to take a breath, and then another. Something was telling me to move, and to move now, but I didn’t know why. Still, I rarely ignored my instincts, so I grabbed my gear, already packed, and waved for Cyan to follow me.

The moment we were through the door, she burrowed under my arm, smiling up at me as we walked down the corridor. We went to the lift at the far end of the corridor and rode it to the main level. My plan was to grab a magrail to the docks and figure out my plan from there. The problem with my plan was that while Cyan and I walked through the markets to the magrail platform, others were watching us. Not too many, and not too close, but others.

My guess was that they were getting annoyed that Cyan wasn’t answering her comms, and now was walking with me, smiling and happy. I kept myself as calm as possible as we walked to the platform, but I could feel them slowly closing on us, but not trying to overtake us, and it hit me. They thought Cyan had charmed me into taking her to the ship, and once aboard she would clear them to come aboard as well. That thought alone got me to relax slightly, and then we were on the magrail.

I sat down with Cyan on a bench in the car and put my arm over her shoulder. Outwardly, she sighed and snuggled into me. Inwardly, she was shrieking at me, hating every second of it. I ignored her internal horror and probed deeper into her mind, down past the surface thoughts and the deeper hidden thoughts. Muscle memory is training so ingrained we don’t think about it on a conscious level, but we still think about it. It’s still thought, and still in our minds, more than we might think. In this case, I was looking for Cyan’s combat skills, because I’d already started to think of keeping her.

I was pleasantly surprised. She’d been well trained by someone in armed and unarmed close combat, and her reflexes were above average. She had quite a bit of training with her pistol, but nothing that felt right for a rifle. I pulled back from her mind as we reached the docks and led her out. The watching minds were down to two, and one of them really was a watching mind. Now I could feel the difference. Someone was trying to scan me, and they were powerful. I didn’t think they could break my hold on Cyan, not unless they could take me on directly in a battle of wills, but I also wasn’t willing to take the chance. If Cyan broke loose right now, so would all hell. So, I did the only thing I could; I picked up the pace with Cyan to get into the secured area of the docks. Getting Cyan in with me was easy enough, captains often bring guests back to their ships. As soon as we were through the hatch to the docking bay, I grabbed Cyan’s hand and started running.

We were dodging around dock workers, ignoring their angry shouts, when the first shot happened. The fin-THAM told me it was a lighter grade weapon than the one I pulled from my thigh as I turned, shoving Cyan behind me, and sighted on a man standing on a catwalk. He squeezed off a second shot that missed behind me, but my first shot was dead on, catching him just under his ribs and toppling him backwards. I turned back to Cyan and saw her holding her arm.

Callous as it is, she was breathing, and the arm was still working. I could see her hand flexing, so I gave her a push and kept running. We ran among the scattering dock workers to Shadowhawk, up the open forward cargo ramp which began to close as soon as our feet hit it.

“Amanda, status report,” I ordered, steering Cyan deeper into the ship towards medbay.

“Station Security is responding to the shots Captain, but I cannot see any other armed persons near the docks on the station cameras. Officer Dwyer has been alerted by an anonymous tip to the engagement, and but has made no request to speak with you at this time.”