“You don’t need to restrain me.” Her voice is high and tight, brave, but her whole body trembles.
“We need you to stay on this craft, Danica. So you can be safe. I don’t want…” The idea of anyone else getting their hands on her makes me shudder.
“I plan to. What would I want on an inhospitable planet? I just want to get somewhere safe.” There's conviction in her tone. But the way she was looking at us before, so alert, her whole body on notice…
I clear my throat. “I know how to read signs of flight. You’ll stay cuffed here until we return.”
“What if you don’t?”
I harden my voice, because there’s no time right now for intimacy. “You better hope we do, because anything out there is going to be a vecking lot worse than what we have planned for you.”
I grab her chin—not roughly, but firmly, and look into her eyes. “I mean that, Danica. There’s nothing for you on this planet.”
She nods. “Yes, Master.” She still looks angry, but her eyes are moist.
“We will come back. I promise you.”
She looks at the floor, where the clothing she selected lies in a heap. “I’m still cold.”
Her arm is warm as I touch it. But I remember how she shivered before. I grab a blanket from the container and drape it over her shoulders, my fingers wanting more. “Here. We’ll give you time to dress when we return.”
Her mouth tightens, and she shrugs. “All right.” Her eyes are downcast now, and she slumps against the wall. “Can I at least sit down, or will I have to stand the whole time?”
I adjust the anchor point where her cuff is attached. “It slides. You can stand or sit. You just can’t move away from this location.” I hesitate. “Are you in pain?”
She makes a sound like a laugh, but there’s no humor in her eyes. “That’s not a yes or no, Master.” She pulls at the cuff.
My voice tightens. “Does your wrist hurt?” I touch her skin just above the cuff. “Is this too tight?”
“My wrist doesn’t hurt.” Her voice is flat. “I’ll be fine.”
“So will we.”
She looks up at me, and I’m surprised at the expression on her face. “Come back safely.” Her voice is almost fierce.
“We plan to. Always do.”
Chapter 5
Benn
We’re already in character as we exit our craft. We dressed in the typical garb of bounty hunters—rugged clothing in neutral colors, lots of pockets for gear, some body armor. Platinum armored boots. Cuffs at our waist. Horns and skin disguised with headgear, so nobody knows we’re Zandian. Walking tall, cocky, because we vecking own the world. As if we’ve been in a thousand fist fights, and we’re ready for a thousand more. Like we welcome brawls, leaning forward into violence and danger.
“A lot of ships here.” Gorde glances around us as we step into our ground craft, which we undocked from our main vessel.
“It’s a popular station. On the flight path for a planet cluster. Ugly.”
He scoffs. “These places are always bleak.”
The landing area extends as far as the eye can see to the left and right, and there are over a hundred craft docked here: Transport ships, bulky, bloated with precious cargo, flash to the left, most of them with armed guards on duty on and off craft. Diplomatic vessels with the insignia of the galactic sign for neutrality—which is not always honored—are in a section to the right. The sleazy transport craft, the ones that typically dupe their passengers and steal their money, unless you’re tough as veck and have the physique to kill without a weapon.
And then the rest of us, crafts of various sizes and shapes, each with our own plans and destinations, litter the ground in even rows. The refueling pods rumble back and forth, lights flashing.
“Stinks.” I wrinkle my nose and look at the rusty sky, thick with particulates and smog.
“It’s the mining. They don’t care if they wreck this planet.”
“Use it up and discard it.” I frown. Ruining things for profit hurts in my core. After all, it’s what the Finn did to Zandia—or almost did. Thank veck we have our planet back.