want out of this deal?”
“Then you will be free to leave this place, but your ship, Mister Nandu, will not be allowed to leave the dock until it has the appropriate amount of cargo onboard.”
Shit. Roshon knew when he was beaten. He may have to accept it, but he had no intention of going peacefully. He took several confident strides across the room until he was mere centimeters from the breeder. He inhaled and got a nose full of her scent. She smelled of sunshine and jysum. They probably used the night blooming flower to make soaps and teas around here. Its antimicrobial properties were well known throughout the galaxy. Back on Roshon’s home planet, farmers had begun growing it almost exclusively once the plague began. People were more concerned about keeping their beloved females alive than feeding themselves. In the end, it had been for naught. The plague had done to his world what it had done throughout the quadrant, leaving the females of almost every race decimated. Only a third of all the females survived, and most of them were small children at the time.
The breeder looked too young to remember the plague. Her quiet acceptance of his inspection told Roshon that she was used to being examined intimately. She must have grown up in the citadels. Roshon felt pity for the second time that day. She too was trapped, although her cage was much more luxurious than anything he was likely to end up in. Roshon circled the silent female. She was tall with golden skin, her limbs were strong. The spots along her cheeks and forehead were characteristic of Alarian females, but the inky black hair the fell to her waist was not.
“Is she a splice?” It was more of a statement than a question.
“She is an interspecies genomic, a splice, as you so crudely call it.” If it was possible, the older female’s face became more pinched than it had been. The splice shot Roshon a deadly look and let loose a low growl. The sound amused Roshon. Alarian females would never make a sound as sexy as that.
“Let’s go then, I want to be home by morning.” Roshon snorted and walked out of the room without looking back at the two females.
What in the hell had he just signed up for?
Chapter Two
Ilham would never show it, but she was terrified. The male who had been sent to transport her looked rough and more than a little dangerous. Whose idea had this been? She knew there had been rumors among the guilds of sistren taken from official transports. It was becoming so bad that most off world travel had come to a complete halt for the guild members. Unfortunately, her time of fertility was upon her, and she needed to return to Alarias Prime if she was to undergo the insemination.
“Is she a splice?” he had said.
She hated that word. It made it seem that she was less of a being; not sentient and endowed with a soul. Zaffa had always assured her that she was in fact a whole person, regardless of her beginnings. Females like Ilham were necessary for the survival of higher order beings in this quadrant. There just simply weren’t enough fertile females to replenish each race. Females like Ilham presented a new opportunity, that two or even three different races could find compatibility in one female meant that there was a chance for all three races to continue their genome.
Ilham grasped Zaffa’s hand tightly as they followed the mercenary to his transport vessel. It was a refitted hauler of some sort. Once on board, Ilham was relieved to see that somebody had already put her luggage onboard. Mister Nandu did not seem pleased at all.
“I guess the Union just does whatever it wants in these parts, huh?” he snorted.
Ilham took a seat and waited silently.
“Aren’t you going to inform the authorities about your flight plan?” Zaffa questioned.
“Well now, that’s the same as letting every pirate and mercenary in the area know exactly where we are going isn’t it? We might as well paint a target on our backs.”
“I