Page 10 of Star Prince

“No.” She shut her eyes as if praying, then whirled around to watch the scene unfolding on the docks. The focus of the argument appeared to be centered on a sleek speeder parked behind them. Several groups of soldiers broke off from the gathering and strode across the plaza, heading their way. The curious crowd of bedraggled traders and merchants parted to let the big men pass.

“Your eyeshaders!” The woman snatched Ian’s sunglasses off his face, shoving them on before he had the chance to react. She bumped her stool closer to his. “Put your arms around me.”

He hesitated for a heartbeat. He didn’t like to jump into situations blind. On the frontier—anywhere—it was an easy way to end up dead.

“Please,” she beseeched him.

Wordlessly, he drew her to him. She was quivering. Instinctively he tightened his arms around her.

The soldiers made their way through the shops; others walked through the bars, asking questions, their weapons in their holsters. Apparently, theydidn’t consider their quarry dangerous. But when a pair of officers veered their way, Ian felt the woman go rigid.

“Greetings, Earth-dwellers,” the robust officer called to them.

The woman lifted her head. “Greetings!”

“My apologies for disturbing you. We’re gathering information on some stolen goods. I’m in search of a tall woman, looksVash,has short hair. She’s wearing a blue flight suit—or was the last time she was seen. Have you seen her?”

They shook their heads and chorused, “No.”

Clearly taken with the prospect of chatting with exotic Earth-folk, the officer leaned casually on the bar while his partner peered behind barrels and rooted through a pile of trash, before trying in vain to question the semiconscious bartender, who’d added more imaginary friends to his somnolent dialogue.

Waiting for his partner to finish, the officer lifted the visor of his helmet and dabbed at his forehead. “Hot weather, this.”

Before Ian could answer, the pixie chimed in. “On Earth, Ah-ree-zona is worse.” She kissed Ian on the cheek. “Is it not?”

Ian gaped at her.

The officer winced in understanding. “With all due respect to the B’kah’s Queen Jasmine, I’ll not be taking any trips to Earth anytime soon.”

Apparently satisfied that what they were searchingfor was not in the café, the men bade them good day and departed.

Immediately, the girl scooted away from Ian. Her eyes darted skyward at the telltale high-pitched whine of speeder thrusters. Her jaw clenched and unclenched, as if she was fighting hard to control her emotions. A screech rattled their glasses as the sleek vessel—the one the Dar security men had been arguing over—soared overhead so low that the bar’s stools danced across the patchwork flooring. Then the speeder streaked across the sky and disappeared on the horizon.

“There goes my ride,” she whispered.

“And look—there go those Dar soldiers, back to their cruiser. That’s what you wanted, right?”

“Yes.” She dragged her attention back to him. “Thank you for…your help.”

“I aim to please, ma’am.” He plucked his sunglasses off her nose. “Obviously they were looking for you. So what’d you do? Ornotdo?”

She blinked at him in the bright sunshine but gave no answer. Somehow he hadn’t expected she would. Blunder was a place for secrets and this pixie evidently had more than her share. Her appearance alone was enough to pique his curiosity. She had the classic sculpted features ofVashroyalty—high cheekbones, a long, perfectly formed nose, and pale golden eyes that tipped up at each end—but she was more animated, moregenuinethan any of the wifecandidates met at court on Rom’s home world of Sienna.

That was because she wasn’t a royal, he quickly assured himself.Vashprincesses rarely left their homeworlds. And when they did, they didn’t come to places like Donavan’s Blunder. The idea was inconceivable. The protocol that keptVash Nadahwomen cloistered dated back to the years before and during the Great War, a period of anarchy when the protective measures were necessary. Eleven thousand years later, the galaxy was stable and safe. Yet the customs restricting royal women remained. Strange that the religion binding the galaxy together was based on a feminine entity, the Great Mother, when the highest-ranking women in the eight royal families spent their lives in the shadows.

Thoughtful, he sipped his tockand studied the young woman next to him. Plenty of upper-class merchants carriedVash Nadahblood, so this one must have royalty as her ancestors.

“Everything I had was in that ship,” she said glumly. “Now I’m stuck on Donavan’s Blunder with a bad haircut, a quarter of the credits I came with, and these are my only clothes.” Sighing, she sagged forward on the bar, supporting her chin with her hands. “I don’t think it can get any worse than this.”

Ian lowered his drink. “I’ve had a pretty lousy day myself.”

They shared lingering commiserating grins.

He asked, “Buy you another tock?”

“No. This calls for something stronger.” She pounded her fist on the counter. “Bartender—Mandarian whiskey!”

The old space-hand came to life, reaching under the bar for a dusty red bottle and uncorking it.

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