diseased. Black eyes framed in scales striped with vermilion and yellow stared blankly up at him. A two-pronged, purple-black tongue hung from its mouth, dangling between two ivory teeth, venom dripping at the tips.
“By god, these bastards are ugly.” Barliss lifted his head away in disgust. As he began to turn back to the hovercraft, a glint of silver caught his eye. Tied around the creature’s neck on a thin rope rested a diamond.
Barliss fell to his knees, the orange sand grinding into his navy uniform. It wasn’t any diamond. He pushed aside the hides the creature was wearing to get a better look. The jewel was a five-karat, emerald-cut, champagne-colored diamond ring, framed by two gray pearls on either side. Barliss tore the crude string and held the ring up to catch the blazing sun. Unquestionably, he held his family heirloom in his fingertips, a ring that had been passed to him by his grandmother, from her grandmother before.
Only a day ago, the ring had claimed a place on Aries’ third finger.
The brazen woman may have gotten herself killed. The need for revenge rose, choking him worse than the stinking sand of this desert planet.
…
“Ouch.” Aries yanked her arm away from Striker.
Striker raised an eyebrow. “I can’t help you if you keep squirming around.” He put down the flurometric pliers and picked up the electromagnetic screwdriver.
“Why don’t you fry the thing and be done with it?” Although Aries liked the feeling of her arm resting in Striker’s large palm, she wanted the locator off her like a prisoner wanted to shed a protonic restraint.
“I have to be careful because it’s rigged to alert the mainframe if the seal is broken. You don’t want your shipmates joining us down here for coffee, do you?”
“No, I don’t.” Aries sighed. The thought of coffee appealed to her. She’d known once she climbed in the escape pod there’d be no more early morning cups of freshly brewed Joe. It had been a small price to pay for freedom. But if she didn’t have to pay it…“You don’t, by any chance, have coffee down here, do you?”
They were perched on rather large pedestals surrounding a white table that seemed to be made from a combination of ivory and glass. Aries stared at the smooth, shell-like walls. She hadn’t thought there was much of anything on this ship until Striker had surprised her a few moments ago and pushed on a glass panel set in the wall. The glass had fallen back and a shelf had appeared with more mechanical devices. As if he didn’t have enough tools to pry at her locator.
“Nope, although I’d enjoy some, too.” There was a wistful gleam in his smoky eyes. He’d managed to break open the latch on the circuit board above her wrist. He poked around for the right circuit to fry.
“What is this place, anyway?”
Striker shrugged, his eyes never leaving the circuits. “I told you. Crashed spaceship.”
“Who flew it? The writing doesn’t look like any language I’ve ever seen. These…chairs, if that’s what you call them, are too large for humans.”
“Yeah, ironically, it’s probably one of the greatest finds in the history of mankind. Too bad the owners are long gone.”
Aries suddenly felt as though she was trespassing. She didn’t want to be stuck in a battle between an Outlander and an alien race with technology far superior to her own. “How, exactly did you get this ship, and what did you do to the owners?”
Striker stopped fidgeting with the tools. He slid off the pedestal and walked toward one of the walls. After scratching a long line in the segment above his head with his fingernail, a panel the size of a window separated from the smooth surface and moved forward several inches. The panel flashed, pixels materializing in static fuzz. It was some type of screen, like the monitor of a computer, but more three-dimensional than anything humans made.
“I’ve accessed their memory cards. Here’s what I found.” Striker
“By god, these bastards are ugly.” Barliss lifted his head away in disgust. As he began to turn back to the hovercraft, a glint of silver caught his eye. Tied around the creature’s neck on a thin rope rested a diamond.
Barliss fell to his knees, the orange sand grinding into his navy uniform. It wasn’t any diamond. He pushed aside the hides the creature was wearing to get a better look. The jewel was a five-karat, emerald-cut, champagne-colored diamond ring, framed by two gray pearls on either side. Barliss tore the crude string and held the ring up to catch the blazing sun. Unquestionably, he held his family heirloom in his fingertips, a ring that had been passed to him by his grandmother, from her grandmother before.
Only a day ago, the ring had claimed a place on Aries’ third finger.
The brazen woman may have gotten herself killed. The need for revenge rose, choking him worse than the stinking sand of this desert planet.
…
“Ouch.” Aries yanked her arm away from Striker.
Striker raised an eyebrow. “I can’t help you if you keep squirming around.” He put down the flurometric pliers and picked up the electromagnetic screwdriver.
“Why don’t you fry the thing and be done with it?” Although Aries liked the feeling of her arm resting in Striker’s large palm, she wanted the locator off her like a prisoner wanted to shed a protonic restraint.
“I have to be careful because it’s rigged to alert the mainframe if the seal is broken. You don’t want your shipmates joining us down here for coffee, do you?”
“No, I don’t.” Aries sighed. The thought of coffee appealed to her. She’d known once she climbed in the escape pod there’d be no more early morning cups of freshly brewed Joe. It had been a small price to pay for freedom. But if she didn’t have to pay it…“You don’t, by any chance, have coffee down here, do you?”
They were perched on rather large pedestals surrounding a white table that seemed to be made from a combination of ivory and glass. Aries stared at the smooth, shell-like walls. She hadn’t thought there was much of anything on this ship until Striker had surprised her a few moments ago and pushed on a glass panel set in the wall. The glass had fallen back and a shelf had appeared with more mechanical devices. As if he didn’t have enough tools to pry at her locator.
“Nope, although I’d enjoy some, too.” There was a wistful gleam in his smoky eyes. He’d managed to break open the latch on the circuit board above her wrist. He poked around for the right circuit to fry.
“What is this place, anyway?”
Striker shrugged, his eyes never leaving the circuits. “I told you. Crashed spaceship.”
“Who flew it? The writing doesn’t look like any language I’ve ever seen. These…chairs, if that’s what you call them, are too large for humans.”
“Yeah, ironically, it’s probably one of the greatest finds in the history of mankind. Too bad the owners are long gone.”
Aries suddenly felt as though she was trespassing. She didn’t want to be stuck in a battle between an Outlander and an alien race with technology far superior to her own. “How, exactly did you get this ship, and what did you do to the owners?”
Striker stopped fidgeting with the tools. He slid off the pedestal and walked toward one of the walls. After scratching a long line in the segment above his head with his fingernail, a panel the size of a window separated from the smooth surface and moved forward several inches. The panel flashed, pixels materializing in static fuzz. It was some type of screen, like the monitor of a computer, but more three-dimensional than anything humans made.
“I’ve accessed their memory cards. Here’s what I found.” Striker
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