Free Omega Games by S. L. Viehl

the drednocs appeared to be Terran, so I addressed her as such. I had to speak loudly to be heard through my breather and helmet. “Tell them to release me. My air is running out.”
    “Hang on.” She released my collar seal, lifted the helmet away from my head, and removed the breather covering the lower half of my face. She did all this while standing as far away from me as she could.
    “You’ve got air,” she said. “So say something.”
    I dragged in delicious cool air scented with some sort of alien spice. “I thank you.”
    The other woman wore fitted black garments and a blade belt strapped around her hips. Three small, thin circlets of gleaming silver pierced her face in interesting places: the side of her nose, the top of one ear, and the center of her left eyebrow. Her eyes were the color of a d’narral blossom, pure, strong violet, with dark golden stars around each pupil. She had applied some cosmetics to her face, judging by the enhanced tone of her cheeks, lips, and eyelids. Thick, shiny brown hair fell over her shoulders down to her hips. She looked to be equal in height and weight to me.
    “Salvage item four-oh-seven-B,” the drednoc reported. “Terran, female, living.”
    “I can see that for myself, bolt head. Lights.” As the emitters brightened, the woman tipped her head to one side and studied my face. “Well, now. You look like you could be my little sister.”
    I didn’t know how common my attributes were among Terrans. I had only shared a superficial resemblance to one Iisleg female: Resa, the healer who had been like a sister to me.
    I didn’t see myself in this woman’s narrow features, but I thought it better not to insult her by stating such an opinion.
    “I doubt we’re siblings,” she told me. “The lizards ate my parents before they could make me a little brother or sister. Perhaps we’re distant cousins. What’s your mother’s name?”
    I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t tell her that I had been cloned from the cells of a madman and incubated in a machine. No one ever reacted favorably to hearing that.
    “None of my business. Gotcha.” She lifted the edge of the makeshift bandage I had tied around my head. “Nasty-looking cut.” She pinched my cheek, painfully tugging the skin out. “Anyone else in there?”
    “She scans clean,” a disgruntled male voice said. “Thanks so much for waiting for my signal, Beautiful. ”
    Beautiful glanced at the wall. “She did just crash a ship out there. Her skin is tight, she’s lucid, and she hasn’t tried to kill anyone. I don’t think we need a full workup.”
    “No, let’s permit her to run amok instead,” the wall said back. “It’ll make life around here that much more interesting.”
    “You worry too damn much.” The female directed the drednoc to release me, and helped me out of the suit. “She’s wearing Jorenian gear. Borrowed, or stolen.” As I stiffened, she eyed me. “She doesn’t like being called a thief. Have you got a name, or should we just call you ‘salvage item four-oh-seven-B? ’ ”
    Reever had told me not to identify myself, but if I did not answer her, she might grow hostile. I swallowed to ease the dryness of my throat. “I am Resa.”
    “We did not mean to intrude on your territory.” I immediately realized that I had said the words in Iisleg, and quickly repeated it in the pure Terran that my husband spoke.
    “I understand you,” she said back to me in perfect Iisleg. Then, switching to Terran, she added, “Half the slaves I started out with were bred on your ice ball, thanks to some of your friends.”
    Her hostility puzzled me as much as her references. “It is not my ice ball. I have no friends involved in slavery.”
    “We’ll get to that.” She braced her hands against the insides of her arms and tapped her fingertips against her sleeves. “Why did Davidov shoot you down?”
    She knew we had not crashed by accident. I tried to think of an excuse, but fear for