The Price of Conquest

Tyler gazed around the Gamble's tiny bridge in consternation, wondering how long he'd have to remain there before someone responded to the distress signal he sent, or before it became his tomb.

The risky hyperspace jump at Vsuna had taken out the Gamble's hyperdrive and further stressed the ship's already dangerously overwrought structure. The bridge's monitoring systems—those that still functioned—reported that the entire back half of the ship was depressurized and open to space. Only the corridor outside the bridge, and his and Garth's rooms still had atmosphere, and that was bleeding away slowly through a half dozen ruptures in the ship's hull.

He sighed heavily, amazed at how quickly his luck had shifted. For a brief time, it had looked like he would get everything he needed: the bounties for bringing in both Kressa and Sangrey alive, plus those for the pirate's four people—which together would give him more than enough cash to get Imurha off his back—as well as a new ship. Now he had none of it. Kressa was out of reach. Sangrey's body was gone, blown out into space with who knew what else. He'd be lucky just to salvage the proof that he'd taken out Sangrey's men, and would lose it completely if any of the holes in the Gamble opened any farther. Even the Gamble was lost to him. Assuming he was rescued, whoever found him would have salvage rights on the ship, not that there was much left to salvage.

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Maybe he should have taken Kressa up on her offer of a partnership, he mused. But he knew that offer hadn't been genuine. She'd just been trying to buy herself some time.

He shoved the musings away, not wanting to think about Kressa, about what they almost had together, about how he felt about her.

In truth, he told himself, this was all her fault. If she'd simply turned him down in that Vsatt nightclub, or hadn't been there at all, he would have come up with some other way to get to Sangrey and would now be safely on his way to Terra to collect the bounties he'd earned.

She was going to pay, he vowed. Someday, whether it was in two years or ten, he'd get himself another ship, track down Kressa Bryant, and bring her in alive.

Or die trying.