“Maybe,” Desai said, offering a noncommittal shrug. None that resonated within her as it once had, the way it once had called to her. At the moment, none of that seemed important.
Though her career had always been the driving force in her life, Desi now found herself longing for the man she loved, along with a life that might have been.
What the hell do I do now?
54
Ganz stood naked at the foot of the oversized round bed in his opulent private suite aboard the Omari-Ekon,gripping the Andorian by his throat. He held the would-be assassin nearly a meter off the deck, the fingers of his massive right hand closing around the Andorian’s windpipe. It required every iota of his formidable willpower to keep his temper in check as he watched the life drain from his assailant’s face. The Andorian was doing an admirable job of fighting for his life, striking out at Ganz’s muscled arm with ever-waning strength. He reached for the hand at his throat, fingers clawing in a futile attempt to loosen Ganz’s grip. His boots kicked out at the Orion’s body, but Ganz ignored the weak, frantic blows. Finally, the Andorian’s arms fell to his sides, and his body went limp. Satisfied that his attacker was dead, Ganz let the body fall to the floor of his bedroom.
On the other side of the room, Neera was examining the area behind a large, ornate Orion tapestry, from which the Andorian had emerged from hiding in his ill-fated attempt to kill Ganz. She also was nude, having been forced from bed along with Ganz by the sudden appearance of the assassin from behind the tapestry. Moving aside the wall hanging, Neera grunted something inaudible, though Ganz still could make out her irritation.
“You won’t find anything,” Ganz said, feeling his own anger beginning to mount. He crossed the room to a waist-high polished black bureau and reached for the communications panel set into its surface. He pressed one of its two buttons, the one linked to a similar panel mounted outside the door to his quarters. “Get in here. Now,” he growled into the unit.
He had only just retrieved a silken blue robe from where he had cast it across the end of the bed and begun wrapping it around himself when the door to his private chambers slid aside, and the bodyguard stationed outside his quarters came rushing in. He was a muscled Orion male, dressed in leather pants and boots and wearing a disruptor pistol in a holster on his hip. Rather than a shirt, he favored a pair of bandoliers strung in crisscross fashion across his chest.
Upon entering the room and seeing the Andorian’s body, the guard recoiled in surprise, brandishing his weapon and leveling it at Ganz. The merchant prince found himself staring down the disruptor’s gaping maw, not scared so much as he was angry with himself for not seeing this coming,
“Jahno,” he said, looking past the weapon to the face of the guard wielding it. He indicated the dead Andorian with a dismissive wave. “You betrayed me for this piece of filth?” There had to be more to it, Ganz knew. Someone else had dispatched the assassin—likely one of his many rivals—and the Andorian had co-opted Jahno to help him get through Ganz’s security. For a moment, Ganz wondered how many other people currently in his employ might be working for one of his competitors.
Before Jahno could answer, something whipped past Ganz’s left ear, and he saw a thin silver blade embed itself in the guard’s right shoulder. Jahno shrieked in pain, his eyes wide with terror as his free hand reached for the knife. Blood streamed from the wound, running down his bare chest and right arm. Then Neera was lunging across the room, her lithe nude body slamming into Jahno and driving the guard to the floor. She reached for her knife, ripping it from his arm, intensifying the flow of blood.
“You traitorous pig,” she spat, glowering down at him as she sat astride him, the edge of the blade tracing a line across his throat. “I’ll gut you like the worthless animal you are.” Reaching for the disruptor Jahno had dropped, she placed the muzzle of the weapon in Jahno’s right ear.
“Who are you working for?” Ganz asked, stepping closer. He nodded toward the dead Andorian. “Who sent him to kill me?”
Jahno was trying yet failing to stem the flow of blood from his shoulder. His expression was a mask of anguish and fear as his gaze shifted between his employer and the person who held his very life in her hands. “I don’t know who hired him,” he hissed between gritted teeth. “He was the only one who paid me. I never talked to anyone else.”
“You’re lying!” Neera said, emitting a feral growl as she poked the point of her knife into the wound. Jahno’s body jerked, and he cried out in pain.
Leaning closer, Ganz said, “So, you’re saying this one person gave you enough money to turn you against me?” Perhaps Jahno really did not know who was behind the assassination attempt. In truth, Ganz did not care. What unnerved him was the apparent ease with which one of his people had been turned. The Andorian, whoever he had been, was nothing more than a tool employed by one of the numerous enemies Ganz had made over the years. Torturing Jahno, himself nothing more than a pawn no matter who paid him, would be a waste of time.
“Finish it,” he said, glancing to Neera. He stood in silence as his lover drew the edge of her blade across Jahno’s throat. The Orion responded with a gurgling sound as blood flooded his esophagus and he inhaled it into his lungs. His body convulsed in a series of violent spasms, and his eyes bugged out of his head.
Rising to her feet, Neera stood over him, watching him suffer for several seconds. Then, without looking to Ganz or even speaking a single word, she aimed the disruptor at the guard, thumbing the weapon’s power level before pressing the firing stud. A harsh, brilliant orange burst erupted from the disruptor’s muzzle, enveloping Jahno. The hellish energy tore apart his body at the molecular level, erasing it from existence in the space of a few heartbeats, his cries of agony echoing about the bedroom as his body disintegrated.
“That’s the third time in less than a month,” Ganz said, grunting in mounting irritation as he moved back to the bureau and poured himself a glass of Altair water from a crystal carafe. Compared with the Andorian, the two previous attempts had been amateurish, with both prospective assassins detected in the midst of conducting their initial reconnaissance while posing as patrons on the Omari-Ekon’s gaming deck. Zett Nilric and his subordinates had taken care of them without attracting attention from any of the other customers, though neither had provided the names of their employers before dying. Ganz had no way of knowing if he was being targeted by one rival or several.
“It’s not as though you’ve never had people after you before,” Neera said as she crossed to the bathroom for a washcloth to wipe the blood from her knife. Satisfied that the blade was clean, she returned it to the scabbard stitched inside the robe she had been wearing before retiring. Rather than donning the robe itself, Neera chose to recline naked across the bed. “You had to expect that some of your enemies would step up their attempts once we left the station.”
Ganz nodded from where he stood next to his bureau, having dispatched a message to Zett Nilric to send two new guards to be stationed outside his quarters. He was forced to agree with his lover’s assessment. From the moment the Omari-Ekonwas forced to surrender the relative safety that came with being docked at Starbase 47, his rivals would have been planning ways to eliminate him. Destroying the ship itself seemed like the easiest way to accomplish that goal, but Ganz knew that to most of his competitors, the trading vessel was worth more if captured intact.