Loser's Game: Black Angel Series, #2
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For years Jezlynn Chambers has plied the pirate's trade, her conduct finally matching her terrible reputation. It's one thing to deserve condemnation, but quite another for the Merchants Guild to hide their crimes behind her name.
While setting a trap to expose the Merchants Guild Jezlynn runs into a Space Service Corps captain… a man who believes her a traitorous mutineer and is determined to arrest her for piracy. Jezlynn decides to kidnap her hunter before he can capture her and discovers she is playing a Loser's Game.
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Loser's Game - Rhobin Lee Courtright
One
4602.10 Standard Space Calendar
THE OVERHEATED ROOM, heavy with annoying scents of perfumes and bodies, clung to Jesse. She felt the slickness on her face, the dress clinging to her body, felt even the heat of Kerub Rek’s body, pressed close to her by the watching crowd. Sweat lined the brow of her opponent, but his face remained as impassive as her own. Time eluded her, but they had played a long time. She knew Henry and Merit stood somewhere nearby, but dared not disturb her concentration to look for them. The spectators had gathered, waned and gathered again. Long games on Fortune Station were commonplace.
Let’s up the ante?
Her opponent looked with composed but avid interest at the skin her dress exposed.
Jesse raised a brow. What do you suggest?
Make the bet worth the time we’ve spent. Our skills match fairly well. But you seem short on funds. Eventually I will win all anyway, but the game grows stale.
His tone sounded indifferent.
Jesse looked at her green stone ring laying amid the markers. What stake do you propose?
A malicious smile crossed her opponent’s face. You showed interest in purchasing my man.
He motioned towards his slave standing impassively behind him. She flicked her gaze dispassionately at the slave and returned to her opponent.
I’ll stake him.
That’s a fairly hefty ante. The wager?
Yourself.
A shocked wave of murmurs ran around the table, and Kerub’s fingers closed on her shoulder in firm pressure of warning.
What? Does your Khajari minion object? Afraid he’ll lose you to a real man?
He made it sound like a loathsome relationship. Jesse maintained her composure and touched Rek’s fingers. He withdrew his hand. I won’t wager myself into slavery for any bet.
Jesse started pulling her chips toward her.
Everything on the table. And your body. Just your body. On the draw of a single card.
Her hands stopped their motion. For how long?
As long as I want.
She resumed gathering the chips, their soft clinking accompanied her motion. You put too high a value on your property.
Then let’s put a high value on your body. One night.
Jesse stopped for several moments, her eyes never leaving her opponent. The atmosphere around the table turned taut with prurient expectation. She nodded, ignoring Kerub’s muttered protest. The bet was officially entered in the establishment’s books. The house manager motioned the dealer to shuffle the cards as she heard Merit’s appalled gasp. The dealer was a showman and prolonged his shuffle while the spectators watched in absorbed agitation. By the time he finished the crowd around their table had increased.
Ladies first.
Jesse exhaled. She reached out to flip a section of the deck over. Sighs and moans sounded around the table. A six faced up.
The dealer called the play.
Tough luck,
the man opposite said with a gloating smile. I think you should prepare to lose. You’re a player though, nary a signal. Winning will be my pleasure.
His voice filled with his assurance. He took his time, lifted a section of the deck, lowered it and picked up a smaller section, then repeated the action taking nearly the whole deck. He looked at the card and smiled, then laid the card down. A jack faced up. Groans and urgent whispers trembled through the crowd.
I request the house display the deck,
Jesse said quietly.
Her opponent’s eyes flashed and the dealer remonstrated. Jesse repeated her request a little louder. After a third request, the dealer grabbed the deck, but her opponent’s hand landed on top. He took the deck with little resistance from the man and spread it. All the face cards lay at the bottom.
I’m sorry I didn’t know,
her opponent apologized.
Didn’t you?
Jesse asked in just the right voice. Then you would accept my reshuffling the deck?
He stared at her then looked around at the crowd. The bet stands?
At her nod, by all means, go ahead,
he said and smiled as he gathered the deck and handed the cards to her.
She shuffled for a full minute and put the deck down. At her gesture he reached to make the cut. Do we draw to see who goes first?
He laughed a short strident sound.
His had floated over the deck before he turned a section of the cards over, smiled and sat back. Another jack.
Jesse’s fingers touched the deck. She picked her card watching only her opponent’s eyes, then cast a silent sigh and looked down. A queen faced her.
Someone lifted her from her seat in a huge hug. Henry. How could you? You’re lucky only Merit and I witnessed this madness.
Henry continued his lecture while patting her in congratulations. Uncomfortable, she withdrew from the contact.
Her opponent still sat at the table when she finally turned back.
He rose and extended his hand. She took it with a brief shake, but he clasped her fingers, then lifted her hand palm up and kissed it. Best bet I ever lost.
Pulling her hand free, she picked up her ring and placed it back on her finger.
HOW’D YOU KNOW THE dealer set the deck?
Merit demanded, as she joined Kerub Rek and Jesse on the concourse outside the gambling establishment. When Tommy hears about this, he is going to lock you up and I won’t blame him.
Merit, grow up. I have a very good card memory and I’d been sitting there watching myself cheated for hours.
They waited until Henry exited from the establishment’s front door.
And you continued to play?
Merit’s voice squeaked.
Jesse smiled at Merit. Henry chuckled but added his disapproval. You could have lost big, Jesse.
Could have, but didn’t, and nothing I wasn’t willing to lose. Henry, will you act as my agent and make sure the house acquires and sends Perez’s deed?
Waiting for its delivery now.
Kerub arrived with her newly won slave.
Hello, Nigel. It’s been a long time. Welcome back to freedom,
Jesse said.
Unable to speak, Nigel stood, his face covered in mute emotion and disbelief. Jesse put her hand on his shoulder. Merit slid in front of her and wrapped her arms around him. At last he took a deep breath.
"Take Nigel back to the Polestar," she told Henry.
Yours to command, mine to obey.
Henry bowed with a brief salute.
A touching scene,
a voice said behind them.
Jesse straightened and quelled a rash desire to lash out before facing her former opponent. She set her face into a still, impenetrable mask. With a hand she waved Henry away, then adjusted her dress and smoothed some wrinkles from the fabric. She waited until Henry was well on his way before she faced him.
You knew him?
his voice filled with offended sensibilities.
Yes, why else would I gamble where the house slants the odds?
You bluff rather well, then. I expect I could have asked for more than one night.
You’ll never know, will you?
Jesse asked, controlling her voice. Did you pay the house? Get your money back,
she advised.
You won fair and square and I’m accepting my loss with good grace.
He handed Jesse the deed. Why the hostility?
Because I despise slavers,
she said, watching the man’s face. It reddened in either anger or embarrassment. He gave her a hostile glare, turned and walked away.
Henry likes you. A lot,
Merit said in the silence that followed.
Jesse still watched the man as he disappeared in the crowd strolling the concourse. Feeling Merit’s considering observation, she said, I hadn’t noticed.
At Merit’s laugh of disbelief, she added, It won’t last.
Because you won’t encourage him.
Don’t start, Merit,
Jesse warned, her body and tongue still under a tight leash.
I need to talk to you,
Kerub said a censorious voice.
Not you, too!
Jesse said frowning at Kerub’s tone.
T’Carta will not be pleased.
He eyed the near obscene dress in unconcealed outrage.
Sighing, Jesse said, Then don’t tell him. The dress served its purpose. T’Carta doesn’t own me; not anymore. Do you have anything else to say?
In private,
Kerub said. Merit jerked and opened her mouth but Jesse spoke first.
Then let’s escort Merit back to the Polestar.
I know the way and don’t need an escort,
Merit snapped at the exclusion.
"Don’t be ridiculous. Your Tommy would explode if I left you alone in this cesspool. I may want to enter the Polestar’s main hatch again. She gave Merit a pointed look, but used a light voice.
Leaving such luxury would be a hardship. Then again, if anything happened to you, Thor wouldn’t lock me up or close me out. He’d finish Hazra’s job and skin me alive."
That’s not funny!
Merit said. Besides, we both know he wouldn’t.
Jesse’s tension suddenly melted in the face of Merit’s obvious irritation. Merit, you’re out of humor.
She continued to tease and goad Merit through the short trip to the docks. Merit was only too glad to leave them at the hatch. As Merit flounced away, she turned to Kerub.
Where to? Your ship?
You’re cruel,
he said, watching the hatch close behind Merit.
She’ll survive.
We need not go to my ship. Just walk with me so we won’t be overheard.
Are you causing a scene?
Jesse asked in interest, watching the scowling faces turned toward them.
A snarling Khajari smile crossed Kerub’s face. Do you mind? Your men find it abhorrent to see a Khajari with one of their women, especially one so beautiful.
Jesse looped her arm through his. Please, Rek, Khajari are human, too. They’re more likely to think you advertise my hire. This is bound to start another wild rumor. Have they given you much trouble here?
No more than I can handle. Need it be rumor?
What did you want to tell me?
Her rebuff left him unfazed. I came across a shipment I thought might interest you.
In your sector?
Yes. So thoughtful of you to divide the galaxy up among your friends so they don’t interfere with each other’s work.
A subtle goad, too, but untimely. You are the only one plying the trade. The rest of the line is legit. You really must have suffered abuse today.
Kerub’s baritone chuckle answered her. Only a small goad. I’d like to hit some of the flotsam I’ve met lately, but of course, Fortune is out of my territory. If you want to remain legit, you might keep a closer check on the Dark Traveler.
Your safety lies in staying out of both Alliance and Khajari territory,
Jesse said accepting Kerub’s caution and mentally filing his warning. Don’t argue. Fortune isn’t in Alliance territory, but close enough to make no difference. What did you come across Kerub?
He stopped her and turned toward her, speaking in Khajari.
Disamine.
Fizz?
Yes. Shipping into the Alliance.
His troubled look hardened, his eyes searched her face.
How do you know?
she asked in his native tongue.
Khajari have been known to use it for the same purpose. Do you still use?
No.
He seemed to accept her denial with skepticism. Who ships it?
If anyone were to believe Disamine’s promise, they would look to you as proof.
He ran a finger along her cheek. Eliciting no response, his hand fell away. It came from Çiro, from the human colony there.
The Xanthean planet?
The human colony resided there by the permission of the only non-human sentient race known. Show me.
Kerub Rek took her back to his ship, the Azreal. Vids and physical evidence proved his allegation. Then he walked her back to the Polestar. You insisted for Merit, therefore it must be done for you, especially in that dress.
He smiled at her annoyance. There was no way she could prevent him. His cunning and physical skills matched her own, his strength was many times greater. Her harsh Khajari curse only brought Kerub’s laughter. Two of his crew followed him and joined in his laughter
ENTERING THE Polestar Jesse escaped Merit’s acute gaze and demands for information and went to her cabin. A smaller cubicle than on her previous ship, the Sole Pilgrim, it had more amenities and a compactness that made it seem as spacious. May’s worn doll sat in solitary occupation of an empty corner of the work console, and Jet’s tattered Ranger issue blanket lay folded over the bed’s quilt. Outside of the clothes stored in the lockers, the room showed few possessions for six persons. The room still felt like home and she dropped her imposed facial mask as she entered, leaning against the door.
Newly acquainted to any type of emotion, the burning, churning and constricting tightness that raged through her body felt threatening in its intensity. A staggering number of conflicting sensations left her shuddering, feeling ill. She leaned her forehead against the coolness of the door, fisting her hands until her nails and the band of her ring gouged her palms.
So far, only assuming a mask of indifference kept Thor and Merit from questioning her, prevented their well-meant interference. Pain brought relief and she uncurled her abused hands then hailed Nael.
Nael emerged and moved to the computer console to work on a new line of research. After Nael finished his search for information on the Deep Net, he called Jesse back. She looked into the mirrored dressing wall running down the wall reflecting several images of her as it hit another mirror behind her.
Kerub’s information had proved correct. Someone claimed the Black Angel raided Çiro, that the pirate hijacked priceless Eas objects—archeological treasures of the lost space pioneering civilization.
As her irritation dissipated to bitterness, her mind whirled with speculation. From within, another voice rose to consciousness. Alyss asked. ::Why should some unknown agent foster more lies, or hide behind the Black Angel’s reputation?::
I’VE DECIDED TO MAKE a side trip to Çiro before our next scheduled run.
Jesse entered the Polestar’s flight deck talking and came to a halt. A smile crossed her face. Do you want me to come back at a more inauspicious time?
Merit sat on Thor’s lap at the console involved in some non-business maneuvers. She blushed and disengaged, adjusting her clothing.
Çiro? Why?
Thor asked astonished, straightening his own clothes.
Because it seems that diabolic pirate, the Black Angel, is raiding an Eas archeological site on Çiro’s moon. I thought I might be able to help. Thought to ask Rafe.
She gave Thor an enigmatic smile. I’m glad to see you’ve finally escaped your Corps training and are capable of a little indulgence, even on the flight deck, and during your watch, too.
She sounded intolerably smug.
Thor’s face reddened and Merit shrieked in offended passion. I’ll take you,
Thor said.
No. The work might get dirty,
Jesse said with a vain hope of avoiding an argument.
"All the more reason for you to ride the Polestar."
Two
4602.02 SSC
The sudden launch of a ship from near Moon Base One surprised Krayne, firming his thin lips into taut lines. Sensors had trouble holding the intruder’s image. He ordered an intercept craft launched from the Nebulae’s bay, and felt satisfaction as it left his ship before the intruder cleared the archeological site on Çiro’s moon. He watched as the intercept’s engines powered the small craft into the chase. Keeping a close watch on the intruder from his view screen, he noticed the normal buzz of voices on the bridge drop. A good indication his crew sensed his temper. After all, the Nebulae was orbiting Çiro to prevent this sort of incursion.
Identify the intruder, and keep tracking it,
he ordered the lieutenant at one of the nearby consoles.
Sir, it’s a small shuttle, class undetermined, no visible signatures,
the junior officer said.
It seems some type of customized hybrid. Very hard to track, keeps fading into the background.
Krayne recognized the voice of one of his top pilots. Hail the ship.
He cast an eye at his lieutenant.
Can’t get a good lock on any signal, sir. Tracking the engine’s discharge,
she said.
No response to our hail,
the communications officer said.
Then get a power lock on it.
Can’t hold it, sir,
the chase pilot answered, Not from this distance. That pilot’s well trained, maneuvers his craft like someone with service training, but I think we have more power.
Krayne didn’t answer, already analyzing the situation as he watched the computer screen. The fleeing ship’s pilot had chosen his time well, just as the moon started its slide into night. The black ship slid into that darkness with no glare from the sun’s last rays flaring on its hull and no telltale running lights to give away its position. The Nebulae’s intercept had a good chance of catching the fleeing ship, but with the pilot’s lost visual contact, those chances diminished.
Even then, the tracking systems on both the Nebulae and its intercept would follow it far enough to prevent its pilot establishing safe entry trajectory into Çiro’s atmosphere. He watched with relief, anticipating that his long watch on this planet would soon end.
Sir, we’ve lost tracking,
the lieutenant at the bridge surveillance station said. There was an unusual stillness on the bridge as the atmosphere turned edgy.
Krayne swallowed his anger and looked at the young lieutenant. How?
We’re only receiving feedback of the Nebulae’s own signal, sir, reflecting from the planet.
She sounded apologetic.
Controlling his temper by clenching his jaw, Krayne informed his pilot of the situation. His eyes never left the screen. He switched on another viewer to receive the intercept’s view, and watched as the craft racing from the intercept maneuvered around orbiting freighters, preventing the intercept using its targeting system.
We have it, sir. Locking on,
the pilot said. Damn!
Krayne saw the reason for his pilot’s exclamation, briefly closed his eyes then snapped them open. The fleeing pilot, eschewing safety, dove into Çiro’s atmosphere. Already a red streak glowed through the darkness towards Çiro. Can you still track it?
No, sir, but I can follow it.
"No. Return to the Nebulae."
Despite his pilot’s dogged pursuit, Krayne already knew the outcome. The Nebulae’s intercept had more power, but the design he had observed in the fleeing shuttle flaunted its superior maneuverability. A hybrid ship built for atmospheric cruising as well as space transit. Unless his intercept could continue tracking, the intruder was home free. Çiro’s lack of a satellite network guaranteed that.
He hailed Moon Base One. The site director, a Çiroean colonist, answered the hail.
Nothing to report, Captain Krayne,
the man said, his eyes avoiding Krayne as he looked down at his workstation. No artifacts were taken. Either the ship just carried sightseers or the pirates didn’t have time to complete their plans. We’ve double-checked, but all the Eas artifacts are accounted for. There is no sign of entry.
Krayne didn’t believe the man and didn’t mention the obvious, that none of the other thefts showed signs of entry, either. The site director might be brilliant in his field, but the man lacked a shred of common sense. Whoever was on that shuttle had plenty of time to do whatever they wanted. No one had known they were there, including his crew. He told the Administrator he would come over to make sure there had been no entry, and signed off.
He turned to his bridge officer. I expect an explanation of how that ship managed to land without observation.
He let his stern tones indicate his displeasure. Leaving the bridge, he headed for the captain’s shuttle and Moon Base One.
After viewing the site and its storerooms, he had to admit there was no sign of theft. He ordered his shuttle pilot to fly over the area from where the intruder had launched. The site showed another good choice by the intruder’s pilot. The surface rose and fell in a series of rocky steep ridges and acute cuts able to hide a shuttle much larger than the intruder. Even the rock seemed to abet him, its composition capable of concealing a shuttle’s