Rebel Princess(22)

And yet he'd returned to Fleet that night and done exactly that. He and  Dorn and Mical. One moment they were saving Kass; the next, they were  putting Imperial Marines on the ground to seize the Psyclid royal  family.

He supposed Kass had guessed as much. She was, after all, Fleet-trained.

It had taken more than two years for him to accept reality, to plan and  execute what he'd only sensed was inevitable the last time he sat beside  Kass in the rear seat of a groundcar.

And now he was committed to far more than Kass Kiolani's safety. He was  S'sorrokan. On his way to Jingar's, the primary gathering place for  ship's officers on layover.

Tal paid the driver, then glanced at Kass. He saw apprehension,  determination, and excitement. The sheltered little Psyclid had probably  never been this close to sin in her entire life. Tal took her arm and  steered her inside.

Kass stopped dead just inside the door, bringing the captain to an  abrupt halt beside her. She'd read about places like this, even seen a  vid or two, but it wasn't the same. Never could she have pictured a  taverna like Jingar's. Alien faces, alien bodies, unidentifiable odors, a  haze of something drifting around the dimly lit room that would have  reminded her of Blue Moon, except it was so totally foreign. "I'm  sorry," she murmured, and moved forward.

"Captain Kane," roared a towering Zylon charging toward them. "Welcome back. It's been a while."

Kass blinked. Tonight was the first time she'd seen Tal in the full  glory of swashbuckling studded leather, a Steg-9 on his hip and his  ancient jeweled dagger openly strapped to his tall black boots. He'd  even mussed his blond hair into careless disarray. He truly looked the  part of a smuggler captain being greeted by the taverna's owner.

"Jingar, good to see you." The two men shook hands. "Meet Kass." Tal  swept an arm around Kass's waist and beamed at the proprietor as if he'd  just invented her. Look, look. New woman.

Well, fyd! Of course. The last time Captain Kane had visited Tatarus, he'd undoubtedly been accompanied by Liona Dann.

Jingar shooed what looked like two locals from a table and presented it  to them with a flourish. He leaned toward Tal, his whisper loud enough  to carry to Kass's Psyclid ears. "Like this one, Cap'n. She's a keeper."

At least some men had good sense!

Kass let Tal order for her, while she settled down to memorizing every  face, every body structure, every nuance of what made Jingar's the most  fascinating place she'd ever been. Dear goddess, but this was wonderful!

"Like it?" Tal inquired. A quick glance showed his lips curling in amusement.

"Love it," Kass breathed, turning back to soaking up the room's eclectic atmosphere.

"See the table in the corner on your right?" Tal said. "The one with the  men bigger than Regulons? They're Herculons. Broke away from Regula  Prime over some squabble three or four hundred years ago. Settled out  toward the rim, near the Nyx. Mostly traders now, but still warriors at  heart. So far the Empire's been sensible enough to leave them alone."

Wise, Kass thought. The Herculons were close to giants, rugged and  roughly dressed. She was willing to bet attempts to hijack Herculon  cargos were few and far between.

"Now the table over there in the center," Tal said, "the one with all the noise-those are Pybbites."

"The round giggly ones with pink skin and white hair?"

"And red eyes."

To hide her amusement, Kass looked down at the drink that had just  arrived. She had heard of the men and women from Pyb. They were the  sector's shopkeepers, spreading their wares from planet to planet with  even more far-reaching success than the Regulons spread their  civilization.

"And in that dark corner over there-no, don't look yet!-if your eyesight  is good enough, you can see your first Nyx. Slowly now, look  indifferent."         

     



 

Kass sipped her drink, then ostensibly returned to her avid perusal of  the room, but this time, as her gaze circled the patrons, she paid  special attention to the dark corner near the back. Thank the goddess  for her excellent eyesight.

Surprise. The dreaded Nyx were scarcely taller than Psyclids, but more  sturdily built. Hairless, skin tinged with green, huge black eyes,  pointed ears, slit mouths. From her studies in the Archives Kass knew  the Nyx also had six clawlike fingers and were as cool as they were  cunning. Nyx didn't lose their tempers. When the urge struck them, they  simply forged ahead, annihilating everything in their path. No wonder  they were the Empire's most serious challenge.

"I need to circulate," Tal told her, "greet some old friends, maybe make  a few new ones. Call me if anyone gives you sass, all right?"

Kass nodded, stifling a groan. Ten minutes in Jingar's and she was  abandoned again. She supposed he thought her capable of defending  herself. After all, she was quite capable of beaning any importunate  customer with a flying bottle.

Men! Kass took a long pull on her drink and settled in for a wait. Tal,  obviously anticipating a long night, had ordered the local version of  ripka, an ale not as tasty as the darker and more robust xaax, which she  would have preferred. But of course he hadn't bothered to ask.  Evidently, smugglers' women drank ripka.

Alien noises, alien odors enveloped her. The unidentifiable haze  thickened, making it harder to follow Tal's progress through the crowded  room. Even the bottles behind the bar looked alien, the shapes just . .  . wrong, created of unknown materials for hands neither Regulon or  Psyclid. For a moment her courage wavered. Bittersweet nostalgia for the  endless peace of the Archives exploded inside her. Her hands, gripping  the mug of ripka, shook.

Idiot! This is what you wanted. Space, the great unknown. You gave up  everything for this. Yet one taste, and you're cringing like a squix.  Fine smuggler's woman you are!

"Kiolani?"

Someone was saying her name, sliding into Tal's chair. Not Tal. Kass  blinked, and stared. A female wearing the garb of a Zylon-a flowing gown  patterned in brilliant red, orange, and yellow, one rather muscular  bare shoulder revealed by the diagonal cut of the bodice. Gold filigree  earrings dangled all the way to her shoulders. But the handsome oval  face, the pale skin, golden-brown hair, and blue eyes told a different  story. This woman was Regulon. And . . . familiar.

"It is Kass Kiolani, right? Dace Pliska. We sat next to each other in  Astro and Tac, do you remember? My quarters were one floor down from  yours." Anxious eyes regarded Kass with the intensity of a drowning man  spotting a lifevest.

"Yes, of course," Kass returned, her brain jumping back into focus. "What are you doing on Tatarus?"

A sudden grin broke through the Regulon's grim intent. "I could ask you  the same. When they took you away that night, I thought we'd never see  you again. And now"-she swept a graceful hand to indicate the entire  crowd at Jingar's-"here you are. Hale and hearty and accompanied by a  dead man."

Kass went cold. Dace Pliska had undoubtedly recognized Tal Rigel the  moment he walked through the door. Which made the Reg officer an active  threat. Kass's chin came up, her eyes closer to flint than amber. "Yes, I  remember you. I even remember you standing there, open-mouthed,  watching me being led to what could have been my death. So tell me  quickly what you want. I don't have fond memories of my fellow cadets."

Kass also remembered Dace Pliska as a bright student, even-tempered, and  willing to tolerate a Psyclid, but that was before the Reg hate  campaign. Before the rebellion. Now, wherever the Reg officer had been  the last four years, whatever she'd done, Pliska seemed older, harder . .  . and frightened? Maybe even desperate.

"There are three of us," she said. "You don't know the other two. We  jumped ship when the Helios was here. We'd heard Captain Kane recruited  for the rebels, and we've been waiting for him to come back." She  paused, shaking her head in complete disbelief. "But there's no way we  expected . . . well, what we saw tonight."

How very easy for the Helios to drop three "deserters" on Tat with  orders to join the rebellion, and become conduits back to the Empire.

"I know jumping ship isn't a great recommendation," Pliska admitted, "but that's what the captain did, right?"

"Except he took his ship and crew with him," Kass shot back.

"Kiolani . . . Kass." The Reg's eyes misted with tears. "We jumped ship  because we wanted to join the rebellion. And, yes, we want to get off  Tat, back to our own kind. But not to Fleet. Is that such a crime?"         

     



 

Tears were good. But was Dace Pliska chosen by the Empire because she was a good actress? Impossible to tell.

Kass leaned forward, looking the former cadet in the eye, still  wondering about her loyalty. But Tal was actively recruiting, and here  were three Fleet-trained warriors offering themselves to the rebellion.  "You and your friends stand by. When the captain comes back, I'll tell  him about you, let him take it from there."