“Identity?” Varik’s heart raced. It had to be?—
“The Treasure.”
Varik glared at the blob on the screen. An impulse to blow it up shot through him, but he quickly muted it. His lover was on that ship. First, he’d rescue Jarn. Then he’d blow that ship, its crew, and especially the so-called captain into space dust. One step at a time. “Open communications.”
Karnek tapped away, glanced over his shoulder, and tapped some more. “Not close enough.”
Varek growled in frustration. “Get us closer.”
“On it.”
Varik gripped the arms of his captain’s chair. His smaller ship, although not built for speed, should be able to close the gap. Each moment was an eternity. He was so close. Once they negotiated for Jarn, Varik would have his revenge. Maybe not on the Cassan space station, but Cyra would pay as soon as she left.
“Status.”
“We’re almost there, Captain.”
Varik paced the bridge, no longer able to remain still. The urge to do something, anything, swamped him. Bend Karnek over the communication deck and fuck his ass until he got them in range. A visual of the man’s toothy smile killed that idea, but Varik had to do something with the excess energy. Punch walls. Kick something. But he was the captain. And he didn’t have another ship. Or another crew member. He’d take it out on Jarn for leaving him. For not getting back to the ship before Varik had to leave. Stupid boy.
And then traveling with Cyra on The Treasure—Jarn’s ass would pay for that betrayal. As soon as he got him back.
“In range, Captain. What should I say?”
“Demand to speak with Captain Cyra about the male she is illegally transporting.”
Karnek tapped away. He pushed a single button with finality and leaned back in the chair, arms crossed. “Now we wait.”
Red washed over Varik’s vision. A ping from the unit saved Karnek.
“No.”
“What?” Varik yelled.
Karnek gave him a panicked look. “That’s what they said. ‘No.’”
“Tell them we will fire on their ship if they don’t agree to release the male they took from Kolben.”
Cyra wanted to play games? She had no idea what he was capable of. He’d blow up her ship, collect the space debris, and sell it to recyclers. He’d tell her parents she was working as a whore on the 3F station and make them search for her. He’d…he’d… He didn’t know what he’d do if they didn’t return Jarn, but it would be destruction on a level that would make history. He paced, tempted to tell Karnek to send another message, but what else could he threaten?
Maybe tell Cassan that The Treasure was carrying dangerous contraband? “What did they say?”
“Nothing.”
“What do you mean, nothing?”
“They haven’t responded, Captain.”
Varik narrowed his eyes at the viewscreen as if he could blast the ship with his gaze alone. If only. Because the shitty scientific research vessel he’d acquired had no offensive weapons and minimal defenses. “Close in.”
“Captain?”
“I want the nose of our ship up their ass.” Cyra better know he meant business. “Also, tell them we’re contacting the authorities on Cassan about the fact they’re trafficking in sentient beings.” There was no possible way they had any identification papers on Jarn. He’d left everything he owned on Cain’s Alibi. Jarn would confirm Varik’s story if questioned.
The Treasure loomed large on the viewscreen. “That’s as close as I can get without putting us at risk.”
Varik balled his fist.
“Do you really want me to send a message to Cassan?”
