Chapter 1

Nine years later

She'd been kidnapped!

Kiara Zamir came awake with indignant anger riding her hard. Even now, she could feel the cold, rough grip on her arms and mouth, feel the bite of the injector as the drug sped through her bloodstream and quickly rendered her unconscious. Her abductors had moved so fast, she'd had no chance to call for help.

Or better yet, fight.

Crippin cowards! She hated people who attacked like that. At least be a man and face her. But no... they'd resorted to the lowest means of capture. Sneaking around in the dark to take her while she slept.

There was nothing in the world she hated more than those who hid in the shadows, waiting to prey on people. Assassins, kidnappers, muggers, rapists, etcetera, they were all worthless, soulless scum who deserved nothing but pain and death.

Now, her head ached terribly as the last remnants of the drug wore off. An acrid smell filled her senses, choking her with its stench. Her throat was so dry, she could barely swallow as she tried to lick her dry lips to keep them from cracking.

She tried not to breathe deeply as she opened her eyes to confront who or whatever held her prisoner.

To her relief, she was still dressed in her pink nightgown, lying face down on a rotting mattress.

Ew, nasty...

There was no one else in the room and no sound warning her there was anyone nearby. Thank God for small favors. It would give her time to plot an escape or at the very least a counterattack.

With a grimace of distaste, she pushed herself up and nearly fell as a wave of nausea and dizziness buzzed through her head. She caught herself against the wall next to her, a roughened spot of rust scraping the palm of her hand.

"Great," she mumbled. "So much for equilibrium. Bloody bastards." At least they hadn't bothered to bind her hands or feet. No doubt they assumed she'd be like other women of her station, too terrified and docile to fight them.

But if they thought she was going to blithely wait around for them to return to kill her at their leisure, they were sorely mistaken. She may have been born a princess but docility wasn't in her blood and neither was patience. Not to mention she'd learned many tricks over the years while living with her overprotective military father, including the ability to pick a good lock.

As well as how to beat an attacker into the ground.

A determined grimace settled over her face as she headed toward the door on unsteady feet. True it'd been years since she'd bypassed the intense security and picked the locks on her house to sneak outside and meet her friends after curfew, but she was sure she would remember how.

She had to.

Besides, the chance that this rusted out junker had the latest in security was slim to none. If they couldn't afford a clean mattress and repairs, they surely couldn't pay the exorbitant fees a security company charged to update their systems.

Reaching the door, Kiara ran her hand over the smooth keypad. Very old indeed. How quaint. It reminded her of the locks on her grandfather's house from twenty years ago.

She looked around for anything that might give her a clue about the key code, but there were no numbers listed anywhere. Nothing personal about her attackers other than what they ate and how filthy they were.

Ugh! There was no use in simply guessing random number sequences since that could very well lock her out completely and trap her here. It might even gas her back into unconsciousness.

Or death.

One could never be too sure what tricks a lowlife might use.

"I'll have to rewire you." If she could find a means of unbolting the lock from the wall...

With a sigh, Kiara glanced about the room, noting the inordinate amount of garbage strewn across the floor. She wrinkled her nose in distaste of the disgusting odor. The thick, steel walls were covered by huge spots of rust and corrosion. How in the universe had this craft ever passed space inspection? It wasn't fit to carry the stinking garbage offending her, let alone human occupants.

They must have greased a major palm.

"Suck it up, baby," she said under her breath. "You have to find something for that lock and get out of here." Surely there was an escape shuttle or pod she could find and launch.

Heck, at this point, she'd be willing to eject herself into space and float home– at least if she could find a suit that would protect her from the vacuum of space.

She curled her lip at the nastiness as she kicked at a pile near her, looking for something she could use on the door. I'd rather be eaten alive than call this place home...

There was a pile of half gnawed food under a small towel. "Ah, gross."

One would think the sheer disgustingness of this mess would kill them. Where were flesh eating parasites when she needed them?

Suddenly she heard footsteps approaching in the corridor outside. Even more determined than before, she cast her gaze around, searching for a weapon.

Nothing but the wilted garbage met her sight.

Kiara growled deep in her throat. The only help the garbage offered was the possibility her kidnappers might faint from the stench.

If only she was so lucky. They probably smelled worse than the garbage did.

Clenching her teeth, she pressed herself against the wall by the door and waited to attack them when they entered.

A peek at how much the book was changed from the original draft that was written in 1989 that was mistakenly published with the editor's rewrites. The biggest change is in the heroine's character. Kiara was toned down due to rejections that claimed she was too masculine for the audience. In the current version, she is the vision Sherri had for the character.


Chapter 1


She had been kidnapped! 

Kiara Biardi came awake with a scream lodged in her throat as she recalled the events in her darkened hotel room.  Someone had come into her room during the late hours and drugged her.  Trembling in fear, she could still feel the cold, rough grip moving over her skin, feel the bite of the injector as the drug seeped into her bloodstream.  She never had the chance to see who it was, or to even call for help.

Now, her head ached terribly as the last remnants of the drug slowly wore off.  An acrid stench filled her senses, choking her with its pungency. 

Kiara tried not to breathe deeply and opened her eyes to confront who or whatever held her prisoner.

To her relief, she was alone, lying face down on a rotting mattress.  With a grimace of distaste, she pushed herself up and nearly fell as a wave of dizziness buzzed through her head.  She caught herself against the wall next to her, a roughened spot of rust scraping the palm of her hand.

"Great," she mumbled.  "No equilibrium.  What am I supposed to do now, wait patiently until they come back?"

Even as she spoke the words, Kiara knew she wouldn't--couldn't--do that.  Her father hadn't reared a stupid daughter, and she had learned many tricks over the years, including the ability to pick a good lock.

A smile curved her lips as she headed toward the door on unsteady feet.  True it had been years since she picked the locks on her house to sneak outside and meet her friends after curfew, but Kiara was sure she would remember how.  She had to.

Kiara ran her hand over the smooth keypad.  The lock appeared to be standard military issue--not too different from her father's.  In fact ....

She stopped, a chill rushing over her.  A military lock.  A lump of dread burned in her throat as she realized she wasn't kidnapped for money.  She was a political prisoner!

"Oh, Papa," she whispered, wondering what he had gotten them involved in. 

This had always been their worst fear, for her to be taken by one of his enemies.  Kiara had never given proper credence to her overprotective father's warnings.  Now, she wished she had.

"Stop it," she commanded herself.  If her conclusion was correct, then she must free herself and return home before her father jeopardized their government for her.

"This lock will be easy enough," she assured herself with confidence.     

Popping her knuckles, she entered a code.  The keys beeped melodically as she pressed them in.  A light flashed across the top of the pad, displaying her chosen code.

Nothing happened.  Kiara tried again. 

After almost half an hour of trying, she was ready to give up.  "Come on, Kiara," she said aloud.  "All you've got is time.  There's nothing else for you to do, except sit around and feel sorry for yourself!"

With a sigh, she glanced about the room, noting the inordinate amount of garbage strewn across the floor.  Kiara wrinkled her nose in distaste of the odor.  The thick, steel walls were covered by huge spots of rust and corrosion.  She wondered how this craft ever passed space inspection.  Surely it wasn't fit enough to carry socks, let alone human occupants.

She turned back to the lock and began pressing more buttons.  As the light hummed on again, she heard footsteps approaching in the corridor outside.  Kiara bit her lip in indecision.  She cast her gaze around searching for a weapon.  Only the wilted garbage met her sight.  Kiara sighed.  The only help the garbage offered was the possibility her kidnappers might faint from the stench.

Clenching her teeth in determination, she tried another code. 

"I think we ought to get some pleasure out of this," a man said, his voice slowly drawing near her room.  "Did you see her?"

Kiara swallowed the sudden lump of fear in her throat and backed toward the far wall, her heart pounding while her mind raced to think of something, anything to do.

"I don't know, Chenz," another man spoke.  "I think we oughta wait till we get further out.  I keep thinking about Poll's message that Nemesis is out to get us.  I just think we oughta kill her like we was paid to and forget about her."

Her stomach knotted.  They might kill her, but she intended to take a large piece of them with her!

Chenz's laugh echoed in the hallway.  The bitter sound sent a shiver down her spine.  "Nemesis ain't nothing to fear.  We done been paid, I say we ought to enjoy this."

The gears hummed in the door as it slowly slid upwards.

Please, God, Kiara begged silently, let them kill me before they rape me.

Two of the nastiest beings she had ever seen walked inside.  If she thought the room stank before, that odor couldn't compare to the stench that clung to them.  Kiara wondered if they had ever taken a bath in their lives. 

She conceded they were human, though neither did honor to their race.

"Looky."  Kiara recognized the voice as belonging to Chenz.  "The beauty's awake."

She curled her lip at the fat, grimy man.  "What do you want of me?" she asked, already knowing the answer, but hoping to gain some time until she could think of a way to escape them.

His lecherous smile answered her.

Kiara stared at him, wondering how he could stand to look at his ugly, warted face long enough to shave.  But then, by the amount of stubble on his pudgy jowls, she could tell he didn't look too often. 

The man at his side was only a few inches taller.  His long, sharp angular features reminded her of one of the beasties her nurse used to frighten her with when she was a child.

Their eyes mirrored a coldness in their souls that chilled her own.

She grasped onto the bedpost, her knuckles protruding.  Kiara assessed them, and the distance and time it would take her to get between them and through the door.  She was quick and strong, but not enough to break through their hulking forms.

At that moment, she wished she were a magician or soldier instead of a scrawny dancer.

"My father will give you any amount you ask if you return me unharmed."

Chenz took a step toward her.  "We don't intend to return you at all."

Panic, cold and demanding, welled up inside her, temporarily dimming her eyesight. 

Before she could move, Chenz had her by the arm.  Fiercely, Kiara clawed at his face.  By God, she would have his eyes for this!

He drew his fist back and struck her hard across the face.  Kiara reeled backwards, falling against the wall.  She slid to the floor, stunned.  Never in her life had she been struck and the pain throbbing across her cheek and eye was unlike anything she had ever felt.

Only the sound of her nightgown ripping brought her back to the present and her mind away from the pain.  With a curse born of desperation, Kiara sent her fist into Chenz's flabby belly.  Releasing her, he doubled over in pain. 

She kicked at the other man, catching him in the center of his chest.  Her nightgown tore more as she scrambled from them.  She couldn't allow herself to be raped.  She would rather die trying to escape than to docilely submit to them.

Kiara ignored the gaping front of her gown and ran for the door.  Someone grabbed her foot.  She hit the floor with enough force to knock her breath from her. 

Oh God, she had to get away!  Kiara clawed at the garbage as they pulled her back toward them.

"You'll pay for that, bitch!" Chenz snapped, wrapping his belt around her throat.

Kiara gasped for air, but the belt bit into the flesh of her neck, choking it from her.  Desperately, she tried to pry the leather free from her throat.  She kicked her feet and tried to scream.  Not even a whisper left her bruised lips.

She was dead, she knew it.

"Kill her, Chenz!" the taller man said, rubbing his chest where she had kicked him.

The belt tightened.  Kiara's sight dimmed.  She clawed at the belt.  Her tongue seemed swollen, almost too large for her mouth.  Just as she thought Chenz would finish her, the belt loosened.

Kiara gulped the air into her burning lungs and throat.  She rubbed her neck, feeling the welts left by the rough leather.

Chenz wrapped his hands in her long, dark brown hair and reeled her to him.  "Your life's nothing to us, girly.  But how you treat us in the next few minutes will decide if we kill you quick or make it real painful."

She choked at the stench of his breath falling against her cheek.  Before she could think of a retort, his wet, scarred lips covered hers.  Kiara gagged.

"Why you ..."  He drew back to hit her again.

A sharp lurch in the ship sent them tumbling.  A warning buzzer pierced the air, the sharp pulses of sound punctuated by flashing lights.

"We're being attacked!" the tall man shouted before running out of the room.

Kiara lay on the floor numb from physical pain and fear.  Chenz grabbed her by the arm, jerked her to her feet, and pushed her back against the wall.  She stared bravely into his eyes, wondering if he would kill her before he left, and amazed to find her eyes dry. 

"I'll finish with you when this is over," he promised, his fingers biting fiercely into her face as he twisted her mouth with his hand.  Giving her a lecherous sneer, he released her and ran to join his partner.

The door slammed down, jarring the room.  Kiara slid slowly to the floor, her mind too overwrought to think about much of anything except the fate that awaited her when the battle ended.

She was aboard some sort of aircraft with two assassins, in who knew what sector or galaxy, and all of them were now under attack by something probably more cruel than her current hosts.

For the briefest moment, she thought it might be her father with a rescue party.  But she knew better.  He was still at the Consulate meeting and thought her safely guarded in the dance company's hotel rooms.

Tears flooded down her cheeks as she realized the hopelessness of her situation.  She would die out here in space, raped and tortured.  The only hope she had was that whoever was attacking them, destroyed them.

"Please," she begged in a ragged voice.  "Let me die during the fight!"        

Her throat tightened as she listened to the sounds of battle.  The old walls of the shuttle creaked ominously.  Blasts struck the craft and kept it rocking beneath her.

Kiara stared at the lock, tempted to try and pick it again.

But what good would it do?  She could hear the popping of damaged electrical circuits in the hallway.  By now, all the power to the doors had been drained and transferred to the ship's weapons and shields.

The lights went out.

Kiara sat in total darkness, wiping the tears from her cheeks.  "Be brave," she whispered, her voice lost among the hissing sounds outside.  She was a commander's child, and she would meet death calmly, with dignity.

After an eternity of wrecked and tormented nerves, the craft was still.  The odor of burning wires and smoke filtered into her room.  Kiara coughed from the smoke until her throat burned.  She was still alive, though to what purpose or fate she could only guess.

Hearing the sound of approaching feet, she tensed, but they quickly ran past her room.  The tightness of her throat loosened a tiny degree.

She seemed to have aged forty years before she heard someone else outside her door.  Her heart pounded in short staccato beats at the sizzling sound of a torch cutting through the steel.

Kiara gripped the bed frame with her left hand and clutched the remnants of her nightgown with her right.  Her head was so light from her panic, she feared she might faint.

A loud pop sounded just before a large piece of the door fell in.  Her stomach knotted into a cold lump. 

Light from a torch travelled about the room, stopping as it illuminated her.

Despite the pain of her adjusting eyes, she tried to see beyond the light, to whoever held it, but all she saw was a large, black blob. 

The blob stepped through the hole and entered her room.

Kiara tucked her legs under her so she could quickly rise to her feet if she needed to.  A trickle of sweat ran down her temple.  She tensed, ready to strike out with whatever resistance her battered, tired body could muster.

The overhead lights returned, burning her eyes.  Kiara blinked several times and the blob turned into a soldier dressed in a black battlesuit.  A dense black helmet covered his face, preventing her from seeing what race he belonged to.  No insignia or flag marked his uniform in any way. 

Who was he?

She stared at him, still uncertain whether he would help her, or harm her more.  Until she knew the answer, she would play docile, lulling him into thinking her harmless.  And if he did intend to hurt her, she would knee him where it would do her the most good.

But he didn't move closer.

To her surprise, he shut off the torch and placed it on the floor.  She prepared to run. 

Unaware of her intent, he unstrapped his helmet from the lines securing it to his battlesuit and removed it. 

Kiara was amazed by the handsomeness of his face.  His long, brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail and two small, silver hoops dangled from his left earlobe.  His dark eyes moved over her body, measuring her state of disarray. 

When he looked back at her face, she saw pity and concern.  "I'm Rachol," he said quietly in the Universal language as if coaxing a skittish gimfry.  "I'm not going to hurt you."

Kiara believed him.  She released her grip on the bed.  Another wave of tears washed down her cheeks.  She was safe!

The soldier moved toward her cautiously.  "Can you understand me?"

She realized his accent was Ritadarion, an allied planet to her own.  "Yes," Kiara said, trying to staunch her tears.

He removed his jacket and gently wrapped her in it.  "Everything's all right, we'll take you home."  He straightened and held his hand out to her.

Kiara placed her tiny, icy hand into his large, warm one.  He pulled her to her feet.  She took a single step, then crumpled.

In a blurred flash, he knelt beside her.  "Are you okay?" his voice was warm with concern.

"I don't understand," she mumbled.  "I can't walk!"  Another wave of panic tore through her.

"Shh," Rachol soothed.  "You're in mild shock.  Little wonder after having to be near those two boowahs.  Don't worry, it'll pass."  His hand gripped his ribs as he swept her with a measuring gaze.  "I can't carry you," he said after a minute.  "I've got a wound healing in my side and if I pick you up, I'll open it."

He lifted her chin until she stared into his kind, dark brown eyes.  "Do you trust me?"

For some unknown reason, she did.  "Yes."

He nodded and smiled.  "I'm going to ask a friend to carry you back to our ship.  Promise me you won't faint when he gets here."

Kiara frowned at his words, wondering why he felt it necessary to ask for such a promise.  "I don't faint."

Rachol gave her a skeptical look, then pulled out a hand-held communicator from his belt.  "Nemesis, I need assistance."