Lost in Barbarian Space(32)

“I don’t want the galaxy.” He flicked a thumb over her nipple and she gasped. “I just want you.”

Honor released a shaky breath. No one had ever wanted her like this warrior. “Later.”

He nodded. “Later.”

As Honor stood and moved towards her closet on legs that felt like liquid, she looked back over her shoulder. “Oh, and warrior? I don’t want to see you injured battling giant wolves, either.”

A faint smile crossed his face. “Then I suggest we look out for each other.”





Chapter Nine




Colm sipped his coffee—feeling his nanami working to dilute the effect of the stimulant in the drink—and watched Honor and the older scholar circle the metal box. It sat on a brightly-lit table in the library.

He watched the two of them comment and mutter, and toss ideas around for how to open the box. Several other archeologists and Agent Abora stood nearby, watching and offering their ideas, too.

Colm took another mouthful of coffee again, but it wasn’t the taste of the strong drink that piqued his interest—it was the fact that he could still taste Honor on his lips.

Those moments in her cabin…it made him hard to think about it. Having her under his hands, under his mouth. He’d felt like an enraged hargon beast, scenting its mate. Seeing her on the moon, so small and courageous against the giant wolves…it had snapped something inside him.

Even now, he felt an unsettled, restless fury ebbing and flowing inside him.

He was worried the dark secret he harbored was about to break free.

Honor’s voice snapped through his black thoughts. She was so focused on her work and he wondered if anyone else could see the guilt stamped all over her face. She’d already called down to the med bay three times to check on Dr. Behati.

“There appears to be some kind of lock here.” Honor motioned toward the top of the box. “Maybe if I—” She reached out and touched the lockbox.

There was a zapping sound. Honor snatched her hand back, shaking it.

“Ow.”

Colm moved toward her and grabbed her hand. He studied her slender fingers but didn’t see any injury.

“It’s fine,” she said.

Dr. Lev’nan tapped a finger against his chin. “We could scan it. See if we can find any weak points in the metal.”

“The metal looks very tough to me,” Agent Abora said.

Colm barely held back a snort of irritation. He had no intention of seeing Honor injure herself opening this stupid thing. He reached over, grabbed the sides of the lid, and pulled. It was tough, he felt his muscles strain. A tingle ran over his skin. He let the strength of his nanami flood him.

The lid popped open.

Honor stared at him. The archeologists were all gaping as well, then Lev’nan shook himself, and bustled past Colm. He looked into the box.

“Amazing.”

Honor followed and peered over the side. She made a small noise and reached inside. She lifted out some sort of weapon.

“It’s a collection of ancient guns,” she breathed with reverence.

Colm smiled. He suspected she would’ve looked less excited if it had been filled with exotic jewels or precious metals.

Honor and Lev’nan started pulling the ancient weapons from the box. They set them out on the table. Its glowing surface flared to life and Colm raised a brow.

“Holo-table,” Honor told him. “It has a built-in computer. It’s scanning the weapons, taking images and measurements.” She lifted a small gray gun up. “These are fabulous. I know the First Warriors were all former military. They obviously had an extensive collection of ancient weapons on their ships.” She turned the gun over in her hands. “Imagine…someone from old Earth used this.”

“There appears to be something built into the side of the box,” Lev’nan said. “I’m not sure what this is.”

Honor leaned over and gasped. “It looks like what I’ve seen in failsafe storage boxes.”

Dr. Lev’nan nodded. “You’re right. It does look like an early design of a failsafe.”

“What is that?” Colm asked.

“They were designed to download the last of the ship’s records and store valuables, in the event of an emergency,” Honor said, poking inside the box. “It looks like an early version of a Sync built into the side of the box. Here, let me try…”

She fiddled inside the box for a moment, and when she pulled back, she was holding a small electronic device.

“Definitely a precursor to the Sync,” Agent Abora said.

“Can we integrate it with the Drake’s computer?”

Agent Abora shrugged. “Perhaps. Let me try.”