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Chapter One
Aya was walking the hall of the Education Station when her life went to hell. She could feel a building pressure in her mind, and she needed to relieve it. Looking left and right, she saw two males, one bristling with spikes, and they were glaring at each other at close range. Aya watched, and the fight began.
The guards were a distance down the hallway, and the combatants were moving toward softer people like her. She bolted from the group and started broadcasting calm. The punches and slashes slowed, and they were standing and breathing heavily, still glaring at each other but no longer murderous.
The guards ran up and started speaking to her, but she had just passed decontamination and couldn’t understand. Language hadn’t been offered yet.
She stared at them until the herder who had her grouping came to get her and explained swiftly what was going on.
The guards barked words at the fighters, and they both turned their heads as if doing an internal analysis. They spoke softly and shrugged. The guards just about lit up. A firm hand gripped her shoulder. The guard said, “Little Earther, you are going for psychic training. You are going to do very well in this new life.”
Aya looked at the guard and realized they were actually serious. “What about my family? My village? Will they stay together?”
The guard blinked. In the next hour, she was given an emergency instalment of language, then negotiating her training, placement, pay rate, and the guarantee that any of her village who wanted to remain together would remain together. She noticed that her contract also indicated that there would be no sexual interference with her during the course of her duties. She shrugged. That was as good as she was going to get. She signed, left a blood mark, and a small silver device was used to record her frequency. Amaya Merryweather was going for psychic training.
* * * *
Three years later, she got the chime that warned her she was getting a client. It was probably a Zowoth. They had enough lust to fill a tanker, and letting it build up caused issues on warships. Fights were the result, and that wasn’t good for morale.
She focused, and when the door opened, she sent a signal out to the local array before the door closed.
She bowed and gestured to the chair that was in the centre of the room. The huge orc walked in and settled on the chair, his hands clenched on the arms. She didn’t speak. Varu-Mel didn’t like her to speak. She touched his temples lightly and pulled the sexual frustration away. It took ten minutes to clear him, and when she stepped back, he got up and left the room without looking at her. She sent a second pulse through the open door and touched the wall to let her bed descend. She had to deal with what she had withdrawn, and with zero sex drive, that left her with sleep.
Sleeping her way through the stars in a windowless room had not been in her contract. It was frustrating as hell, but she sent the messages out to the station array with hope that they would reach someone who could help. She was losing weight, and no one would listen. Dying as a wraith hadn’t been in her contract either. They gave her food, but her body didn’t know what to do with it. She guessed she had about two months to go before organ failure killed her. She didn’t even take off her layers of robes to sleep. She didn’t want to see herself. Cloudy had kept everyone in pretty good condition, considering, and now all her hard work had been destroyed. Losing three pounds a month had been devastating.
She rested and waited for another alert to get to work. She wasn’t allowed a com, an entertainment unit, nothing that would distract her from the work she was there to do. Every month, an administrator came in and told her what her financial accumulation was. Apparently, she had a lot of money. It wouldn’t do her any good if she were dead.
She relaxed and felt something peculiar. There was a pulse in her mind, and it was getting stronger through the psychic shielding designed to keep her mind in and nosy folks out.
Aya got up and went to the door, pressing her head to the seam and listening for the pulse. She got information in a burst and smiled. It was something new, and she really needed something new.
There was a chime, and she straightened her robes and got back to her post behind the chair, mask up, hood up.
The door opened, and she gestured to the chair. Another Zowoth. What a surprise.
He said softly, “You can speak.”
“Thank you. So what are you doing after I clear your mind?” She placed her fingers on his temples and set to work.
He chuckled. “I am being assigned to a vessel captained by a Terran. She was the consort of our leader until she scarred herself up. She’s a level three and very battle-capable, but she does not want to be restrained to the women’s quarters. So she’s been hired as captain for an Orex ship, and four of us have been selected as crew.”
Aya smiled. “A Terran. They are new, are they not?”
“They are. Aggressive, too.”
Aya grinned. “I have heard that. How do you feel?”
“Clear. Thank you.”
“You are welcome. Good luck at her side. Remember one thing: a woman who will scar herself has nothing to lose except herself if that is what she was defending; keep that in mind.”
He turned and looked at her. She knew her eyes were in shadow, but Terran gazes were species-specific. They could never be mistaken for something else.
“Thank you, soother.”
She inclined her head. “Have a calm day.”
She got more information from the pulse and exhaled slowly. Soon. Help was coming soon.
