The Price of Conquest

Tyler flew the Gamble back to Vsatt in the early afternoon. Once he got the ship docked at the city port, Kressa suggested they grab a meal at a portside diner rather than risk the adventure of another bar or club. Tyler agreed.

Much to his relief, she'd shown no signs during the day that she remembered anything particularly important about the previous evening, although she had described a few flashes of disturbing images he was sure she should not have remembered had the memblock worked flawlessly. She also mentioned the disconcerting fact that she didn't always react to drugs the way most people did, something she claimed to be a result of her half-Nepurhan ancestry.

Tyler realized that could also explain the Gendzet amulet she had worn the first couple of days he knew her. If she was from Nepurhan royal stock, she might have psi abilities, which meant she'd most likely lied about what she knew of the amulet. Not that he blamed her, and not that he hadn't told her a few lies himself. However, if she did have any ties to the Gendzets, he hoped to learn of them and collect the reward offered by the United Galaxy for information leading to the arrest of any Gendzet followers. Once her Gendzet associates had been removed, he trusted he'd be able to convince her of the folly of having anything to do with the outlawed order and get her to throw the amulet away and forget the Gendzets ever existed.

But how he was going to talk her into accepting the fact that he was a bounty hunter—something she clearly had issues with—he hadn't yet figured out. Perhaps he should try to find out why she had such a negative opinion of his chosen profession, that way he would know which arguments to use to convince her that bounty hunters did not "prey on people," as she had put it. That comment still infuriated him every time he thought about it, and he wondered what had happened to make her draw that conclusion. Whatever it was, he decided not to worry about it until he was sure the memblock had done its job well enough that she did not recover any distorted memories that might contradict his arguments.

To more completely test the memblock's effects, he gave her Sangrey's gold-and-star-sapphire bracelets while they dined. She seemed delighted with the gift and commented repeatedly on the bracelets' exquisite craftsmanship and obvious value, and how she couldn't possibly wear them. But wear them she did, easily sizing them to fit her wrists with the aid of their ingeniously designed clasps. Not once did she give any sign that she recognized them.

"Devin, I think we're being followed," she said as they made their way back to the Gamble from the diner.

He fought the urge to glance over his shoulder. "What makes you say that?"

"I saw three guys on our tail when we left the port. They didn't follow us into the restaurant, so I didn't think much of it. But now they're back."

"Anyone you know?" he asked, amazed at her ability to notice such things without him realizing she was even paying attention. Her explanation that she learned such abilities growing up on the street made sense until she'd told him that she left the streets when she was only sixteen to crew on a private freighter. Her street skills were far too practiced for her to have not used them for close to a decade, and he could not imagine why she would need to use them while working as a trader. Just one more thing to add to the growing list of intriguing mysteries about her—mysteries he intended to solve as soon as he got back from collecting the bounty on Sangrey.

"I've never seen them before," she said, and then glanced at him with a frown. "You don't think they're friends of that guy from last night, do you?"

"No," he said, and then realized his answer may have been a bit too hasty. "He couldn't know we're in Vsatt," he added as an explanation.

"Who then?"

"Good question."

He led Kressa around a corner into a side street and used the move to glance surreptitiously behind them.

"Recognize them?" she asked.

He shook his head.

"Anyone in Vsatt have any reason to be following you?"

"I hope not." He wondered if they could be some of Sangrey's men looking for revenge, and silently damned himself for deciding to stay with Kressa an extra day just to find out whether or not the memblock worked. Yet the odds of Sangrey's remaining crew realizing something had happened to their boss, figuring out what that something was, tying Tyler to it, and tracking him to Vsatt so quickly were amazingly small. Besides, Sangrey's people were not common street thugs as the three men following them appeared to be. So, if they weren't Sangrey's men, could they be—?

A man stepped out of an alley into Tyler's path. "Hey, Tyler, I see your taste in companions has improved." He pulled open one side of his jacket briefly to reveal a holstered pulse gun.

"Lauden." Tyler scowled as he recognized the balding, round-faced man.

The three men behind them hurried forward. Kressa drew her knife and stood with her back to Tyler's, warily watching their approach.

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"Mister Imurha wants us to have a talk with you," Lauden said.

Tyler's heart sank. Allegos Imurha was the man Garth had bought the Gamble from, the man who Garth—and Tyler by association—owed nearly twice as much money as the bounty on Sangrey.

The three men spread out around them. One of them reached for Kressa's knife. She swung the blade in a short arc. The man jerked his hand back with a yelp, and then held it up to examine it. A straight, shallow slice across his knuckles welled blood.

"Next time, I take a finger," Kressa promised.

Lauden chuckled. "Selig, ask the lady nicely."

Selig's partners sniggered at their companion's expense. He glared at them, and then held out a hand, palm up.

"The knife, please, miss."

She glanced at Tyler.

"Let her go," he said to Lauden. "Imurha's business is with me."

Lauden shook his head. "His orders are to keep the two of you together."

Tyler wondered if Lauden was telling the truth and, if so, how and what Imurha knew about Kressa.

"Give him the blade, Kressa. Like the man said, they just want to talk." He hoped that was true.

Clearly reluctant, she reversed the knife and held it out, meeting and holding Selig's eyes as he took it.

With Lauden and Selig in front and the other two men behind, they escorted Tyler and Kressa down several side streets and alleys to a small, nondescript door behind a row of ill-kempt buildings.

Lauden tapped out a pattern on the barrier, opened it, and then motioned them into a small, plain room with no windows, a boarded-up door on the left wall, and what looked suspiciously like bloodstains on the bare floor.

Two men were waiting for them inside. They grabbed Kressa, pinned her arms behind her back, and hauled her off to one side of the room. One of them drew a pulse gun from under his jacket and pointed it at her.

Selig's two companions shoved Tyler against the room's back wall and held him there.

Lauden stepped in front of him. "You've got some nerve coming to Vsuna without Mister Imurha's money."

"I came to Vsuna to get his money," Tyler said, struggling against his captors' hold.

The men adjusted their grip. He flinched as one of them grasped his upper right arm hard enough to exacerbate the pulse gun burn. With a grin, the man gave the injury a sharp jab. Tyler bit back a cry and stopped struggling.

"We know why you came to Vsuna, Tyler," Lauden said. "If you don't want Sangrey's crew to find out, you'll get Mister Imurha his money now." He drove his fist up under Tyler's ribs to emphasize his point.

Tyler gasped as pain radiated out from the blow and his lungs seized. His legs gave out, but his captors held him upright. Kressa glared at them from across the room.

"I told you—" Tyler started to say between gasps for air.

Lauden hit him again. "You had no intention of visiting Mister Imurha while you were here."

"You're right," Tyler said, hoping to throw Lauden off balance with the truth. "But I did come here to get some of the money I owe him. If you'll just give me time to collect on this job—"

"That won't be enough," Lauden said.

"Don't you think I know that?!" Tyler snapped. "Give me time to get the rest. I'm not Garth. I'm good for my debts, even if they weren't originally mine."

"You've had time."

"Not enough. Look, I'm leaving first thing tomorrow to pick up the money and—"

"What guarantee do we have that you'll come back here after you get it?" Lauden asked, and then gave Kressa a long look.

Tyler frowned. Was Lauden thinking about holding Kressa captive to guarantee his return? "Leave her out of this, bastard!"

Lauden backhanded him, and Tyler tasted blood.

Lauden watched him for a long, silent moment. Tyler steeled himself for another blow, but the man only glanced at Kressa, and then met Tyler's gaze again. "Do you have any idea where you're going to get the rest of Mister Imurha's money?" He looked at Kressa again.

Tyler followed his gaze and wondered what the man was hinting at. Did Imurha want Kressa as part of the payment? He snarled at the thought and lunged for Lauden, but the men holding him slammed him back against the wall with an unnecessary wrench of his wounded arm. He stifled a groan.

Lauden withdrew a data card from his breast pocket. "Maybe this will help." He tucked the card into the pocket of Tyler's jacket. "Mister Imurha would use the information himself, but he doesn't have the right contacts, and he prefers not to deal with those sorts of people." He studied Tyler for another long moment.

Tyler met his eyes challengingly. He knew it was a mistake, but at the moment, he could not bring himself to care.

Lauden backhanded him again. Tyler's head snapped back against the wall, and he collapsed into his captors' arms. They released their hold, and he slumped to the floor with a moan.

Lauden motioned to Selig and the men who'd been holding Tyler, and all four of them left the room.

Tyler tried to stand up, but his vision tunneled threateningly and his legs refused to support him.

Helpless, he watched as the two men holding Kressa dragged her toward the doorway.