Part 43 (1/2)

”Stay with Stormy. I don't want her left alone. And in the mood Jayne's in, she might clip something off you're attached to, just on principle. While I think I'm safe, you... she might use for a scapegoat.”

Dancer laughed. ”You got it.”

Nykyrian and Syn wandered over to him while Galene, Sumi, and Dancer headed back toward Fain's s.h.i.+p.

”You know Thaumarturgus?” Nykyrian jerked his chin in the direction Ushara had vanished.

Fain turned to see her walking down the ramp of the Stygian Nightmare beside the most mysterious Tavalian ever bred. Dressed black-on-black, there wasn't an inch of Trajen's body left bare. Broad-shouldered, tall, and with an aura as lethal as any a.s.sa.s.sin to ever don a League uniform, Trajen carried himself with a predator's lope.

He wore no blaster, but the hilts of enough blades were visible to say he didn't need one to slay his enemies. And in a way, that was an even better testament to his sinister skills and willingness to take a life with his bare, bloodied hands. Not to mention, he had a crested Andarion Warsword strapped across his back. The only way for him to have such a weapon would be to have taken it in battle from the hands of a slain Andarion warrior.

No Andarion would have given that up without a brutal bloodbath. Andarions considered a family Warsword as part of a sacred heritage, and they were treated with extreme reverence. You didn't just go into a store and buy one of those. They were pa.s.sed down through families, or taken as war trophies.

Case in point, the one Fain owned had come from the first Andarion he'd killed in battle. Dancer's was the very sword that had once belonged to the founder of their lineage from centuries ago that their grandmother had bestowed on Sumi right before their unification. Talyn's had been earned in the Vested Ring.

While a handful could be commissioned from swordsmiths, those numbers were strictly limited and had to be approved by the tadara herself, and no off-worlder was allowed to order one, under any circ.u.mstance.

Fain had to give credit where it was due. Trajen seemed to be everything he'd heard, and then some.

He glanced over to Nyk. ”Know him strictly by reputation. Ryn and Ushara are the only two I've ever heard of who know him personally. And of course Ven and Hermione... but only because of the UTC. Even then, I don't think they've met face-to-face more than a handful of times.”

Nyk turned toward Syn, who shook his head.

”He's a ghost. No record of any kind, anywhere. I got nothing when I did a trace. I'm thinking he was either erased or he's something we don't know about.”

Nyk rubbed at his jaw. ”If he was erased, Syn, he'd have a record.”

”Not if he was good enough.” Syn sighed. ”At any rate, he's OU.”

Fain scowled. ”OU?”

”Origin Unknown,” they said in unison.

”And we don't like that,” Syn said. He winked at Fain. ”It's scary.”

Nyk shoved at him. ”Go get some sleep.”

”I'd rather get a drink, but I don't want my wife to gut me for it. Later.” Syn headed for his quarters.

”You going to sleep?” Fain asked Nykyrian.

”No. I think I shall try to learn a few things about our new arrival.” Nykyrian hesitated. ”Doesn't 'Thaumarturgus' mean 'warlock'?”

Fain shrugged. ”Not in any language I know. But I'm not as fluent in as many as you are. That being said, Warlock is his call sign.”

”Interesting,” he mumbled, following after Ushara and Trajen.

As Fain headed out, he noticed that a lot more s.h.i.+ps were landing. Both here and in other areas of the station. And when he saw that one of the ultra-lights that was being serviced and stored belonged to Ven's daughters, he sent a quick text to Ven to warn him that his wife was home, just in case Ven had wandered off somewhere he shouldn't be.

After all, they'd had enough excitement for one day. He was ready for a little boring.

Yet as he headed for the entertainment decks, he had a feeling that things were about to get lively again. Especially if Chayden was down in his cups with Caillen nearby.

”Hey, s.e.xy Baby T,” Chayden whispered in a shout as he leaned across Qory to talk to Talyn. ”The Tondarion Fire I drank wants to tell you a secret.”

Talyn laughed at his friend. ”You're drunk, Chayden.”

”No, I'm not.” He slammed his hand down on the table. ”You still only have one head. So I'm still sober... ish.” He belched, then ordered more drinks.

Qory signed at them, but Talyn couldn't make it out since Qory wasn't sober either and so his signs were slurred.

Chayden began chewing on a straw. ”He says you should have a drink. See, I'm not so drunk I can't understand Qory.”

Talyn scratched at his cheek. ”We can't drink.”

”Oh yeah, you're Andarions in uniform. Sucks to be you!” Chayden pulled a drink off the tray of a pa.s.sing waiter an alien who started to say something, then took one look at the ma.s.sive size of Qory, Gavarian, and Talyn, then changed his mind about it.

”Yeah,” Chayden said in a surly tone. ”That's right. I got an Andarion set of Ring fighters and a Qill, and I'm a Qill-born Tavali and you're not! Ha!” Then he realized Brach was with them. ”Oh hey, I got another Andarion, too!” He scowled at Talyn. ”How many Andarions is that? Oh yeah... three. Three Andarions and two Qills and one bottle of Tondarion Fire. Yum. See, I can... do math. Not drunk.”

Gavarian scowled at Talyn. ”Qillaqs are interesting when they drink, aren't they?”

”They are something.”

”You're something. And I'm a belligerent a.s.s. Hole.” Chayden guzzled the drink. ”Hey!” He leaned against Brach. ”You know what my greatest accomplishment was today?”

Talyn took a drink of his water. ”Can't imagine.”

”I kept... my mouth shut.”

Talyn pa.s.sed an amused frown to Brach.

”What's that mean?” Chayden asked.

”Nothing.”

”Sure it does, but I'm telling you, for me... that's a major accomplishment. And I deserve another drink for it.”

Laughing, Talyn reached for the snacks, then paused as he caught Gavarian's and Brach's eyes bugging wide. Curious, he followed their line of sight to see three extremely scantily clad, highly attractive females gliding through the crowd.

Yeah, okay. That was definitely noteworthy. Especially since one of them had on an outfit that really didn't leave a lot to the imagination. She might as well be naked in the room.

”Hey, hey, hey!” Chayden snapped, pus.h.i.+ng Talyn's chin away from the small group as they sat down across from them. ”Put those eyes on the floor and get the blood out of the protruding parts of your body. Fast. That there is the crew of the Black Widow... and tell me, Chay,” he said to himself in a falsetto, ”why is their s.h.i.+p named the Black Widow?”

Talyn gave him a dry stare. ”Why is it called the Black Widow?”

” 'Cause their father is Braxen Venik... you know, head of the Porturnum Tavali, and one of the most ruthless, bloodthirsty pirates who's ever lived. Any male who looks at one of them and decides he wants to take a ride, gets a visit from Daddy and leaves the room in little b.l.o.o.d.y chunks.” He jerked his chin at the two large, muscled males who came in behind the females and evicted the people from the table closest to them. Unlike their sisters, they held more Andarion traits than human. ”And those, my Andarion pretty, are Braxen's sons. Payne and Stain, which is exactly what you will quickly be in and become should they catch you looking at their sisters.”