Last Stand (Stag Privateers Book 1) Page 3

  “Well then, it looks like it's her lucky day. We can't give her back her memories, but we can at least save her from the miserable life she was headed for.” He turned away, back to business. “Take her back to the ship and check her out, make sure she's what the records say she is.”

  Ali gave him a surprised look. “And my work parsing the Fleetfoot's logs?”

  “This takes priority. Although I assume you can do both at the same time?”

  The companion looked amused. “Of course. I'll let you know when I've awakened her from stasis.”

  Nodding, Aiden left her to her work moving the pod and began inspecting the other cargo in the bay. Soon the gunner arrived, and Aiden put him to work moving everything worth taking.

  Stripping a ship of useful systems and components was a lengthy process, but they'd done it often enough to have it down to practically an art. Or at least efficient science. Working together, and conscripting the Deek crew to help out with the few things they could be trusted with, they had it all done within a few hours.

  The Last Stand's cargo bay was loaded, some of the loot spilling over to maintenance storage. They had the codes to all useful accounts and were ready to drain them into anonymous private accounts, just before making their rift jump out of this system. The only thing left was to head back to the captured ship's galley and say a final cheery goodbye to the Fleetfoot's crew.

  Barix intercepted him on the way there. “Sooo,” the Ishivi said, falling into step beside him. “Word is, part of our haul from this prize is a sex slave.”

  Aiden felt the onset of his usual scowl when dealing with Barix; the slight man seemed to have a knack for pissing him off. “Three things wrong with that sentence: first, there are no slaves aboard my ship. She's free. Second, she's not part of any prize, she's our guest until she figures out her situation. Third-”

  He whirled suddenly, making the slight man jump in surprise, and loomed over him. “You even think about trying to seduce a Blank Slate, at least before she knows enough about the universe to look after herself, and I'll make sure your precious superior genetic line ends with you. Got it?”

  Barix backed away a step, raising his hands. “Yeah, yeah, I got it. Unreclaimed sewage, you don't have to bite my head off over some poorly chosen wording.”

  Right, because the scheming, manipulative little purebred made a habit of being careless with his words. Aiden turned away in disgust. “Just stay away from her.”

  He heard the Ishivi muttering behind him. “First you take the prototype adult companion that's worth her weight in exotic particles for yourself and don't even share her, now you won't even let me talk to any other woman that comes on the ship?”

  “That's not true . . . you can talk to Belix all you want.”

  Barix snorted derisively as he hurried to catch up again. “Right, because my sister's such delightful company that you just can't seem to keep away.”

  Aiden ignored the jibe; his reasons for avoiding the man's twin had nothing to do with her personality. Or, well, less to do with it.

  The Ishivi led the way when they entered the galley. “I think that about does it for this rust bucket,” he said cheerfully, sauntering over to Jorosh and slapping him amiably on the back of the head. He ignored the thickset man's outraged glare as he blithely continued. “Guess the only question now is, what do we do with all this unreclaimed sewage?”

  “Good question,” Aiden admitted. “After all, as the good Captain here accurately surmised, I don't kill prisoners.” He feigned thoughtfulness as he inspected Jorosh, who glared back with a mixture of terror and defiance. “Although you know, they were carrying a Blank Slate to sell to a brothel. Maybe facing the same fate themselves would be poetic justice.”

  “No!” the Deek captain burst out, eyes widening with horror. Behind him, several of his crew also cried out.

  Barix burst out laughing. “I don't know, Captain. I can't see any customer wanting to sex up these genetic dead ends.”

  Jorosh struggled forward against his bonds, expression desperate. “You can't do that! Wiping our minds would be as good as murder!”

  Aiden looked down at the man with disgust, fighting the urge to slam his boot into his face. “You didn't seem to have a problem with kidnapping an innocent young woman from a colony and doing it to her.”

  The Deek opened his mouth, then closed it helplessly, knowing he had no response to that. “Please,” he whispered. Tears were actually forming in his eyes.

  Well, Aiden couldn't blame him; turning someone into a Blank Slate was a despicable thing to do. He had a particular disgust for it, considering the fate of so many of his friends after the war.

  So he dropped to one knee in front of Jorosh, bringing his face in close. “You know, Captain, back before the war ended Stags had a common response to hearing about each new atrocity carried out by the Deconstructionists. We'd tell each other “I wouldn't do that to my worst enemy.”

  Straightening abruptly enough to make the man flinch, Aiden nudged him with his foot to knock him over onto his side, staring down at him with contempt. “So no, I'm not going to wipe your minds and sell you into slavery. You deserve it, no argument, but I'd start to hate myself if I ever found myself becoming like you.”

  He turned and strode away.

  After a moment Barix hurried to catch up to him. “I take it we'll do the usual?” he asked in a low voice once they were out of earshot.

  Aiden nodded curtly. Arguably, leaving the Deeks adrift on a ship with most of its systems torn out was potentially a death sentence. But the Fleetfoot's crew still had all the tools they needed to get out of their situation, if they were creative and hardworking. Often it was as easy as fixing or rigging up long-range communications so they could call for help, and there were all sorts of ways they could do that.

  Barix sighed. “Wiping them and selling them to a brothel would've been funner. And more lucrative.”

  He didn't dignify the comment with a response.

  Less than fifteen minutes later, the Last Stand had decoupled from their target and flown a short distance away. After connecting to the allnet just long enough to drain the accounts they'd planned, Barix opened a rift and Aiden flew through. Instantaneously taking them a short distance away, at least on a galactic level, a mere 67 light years, as the beginning of a long trip to another part of the galaxy.

  Safe, for the moment.

  * * * * *

  She opened her eyes, squinting at a bright light.

  She was lying on something soft, something else soft covering her up to her neck, making her feel warm and safe. Which was good, because looking at the small, sterile white room around her, gleaming metal instruments and devices everywhere, was making her feel a bit panicked.

  What was going on? Where was she? Why couldn't she remember anything? Everything before opening her eyes just a few seconds ago was a frightening blank, and while she didn't know why that was a bad thing, she somehow knew it was.

  Who was she? Not knowing that definitely seemed like a bad thing.

  She looked around again, breaths coming out in gasps as she fought to control her panic. At least there was some small comfort in realizing that even though she didn't remember anything, she at least recognized things. For instance, the instruments around her seemed to be medical, which meant this was probably some sort of med bay or hospital.

  She didn't know what any of those instruments did, or how to use them, so if she'd known those things before then she'd forgotten. But at least she recognized them, and that was something to cling to.

  Before she could decide to do something, even sit up and get a better look at where she was, a rustle from behind her bed caught her attention. She frantically twisted and craned her neck, and saw a person approaching to lean over her.

  “Shh, it's all right,” the person said in a husky, pleasant voice. “You're safe here.”

  In the same way, she'd recognized the medical instruments, she immediately noticed things about this new person. First, the person appeared to be a young adult, and female. Second, the woman's expression was intended to be kind and reassuring.

  Third, the woman was impossibly beautiful.

  Granted, she'd never seen another woman, so she wasn't sure why she'd think that. But the fact that she had seemed significant. Something about the woman seemed too perfect, in a way that didn't seem real.

  Of course, who knew what real was when she had no basis of comparison? She sat up, the warm blanket covering her sliding away, which was a shame since she'd found it comforting, to reveal she was wearing the same uniform as the woman.

  Was that significant? “Who are you?” she asked hesitantly

  The impossibly beautiful woman smiled in a gentle way. “My name is Ali. I'm here to help you. You've suffered what is known as a mind wipe . . . all your memories have been permanently removed. A common name for those with your condition is Blank Slate.”

  She didn't like the use of “permanent” at all. To avoid having to think of that, to consider the ramifications if it was true, she focused on Ali instead of on her words. Again, that recognition teased at the back of her thoughts, a sense of familiarity. Had she known her before?

  No, it wasn't that. “You're not human,” she observed.

  Ali nodded, not seeming offended. “I am what is known as an adult companion, an android produced by HumanAssist Enterprises to-”

  “Prototype,” she mumbled absently, not sure what she meant but certain she was right.

  The companion nodded, eyeing her thoughtfully. “That's right. Adult companions have yet to be officially released to the general market.” She moved over to an instrument, looking at the display. “It's a well-known phenomenon of mind wipes, that while the subject remembe
rs nothing of their past life and retains none of their learned skills or reflexive abilities, they still recognize things they were familiar with before, and understand terms they knew.”

  Yes, that matched what she'd already discovered about herself.

  “You must've heard of adult companions before,” Ali continued. “Which might help you discover more about who you were in your previous life, since prototype models like me are still in development and our existence is not well known throughout the explored universe.”

  Her mind wandered as the beautiful woman talked, some of her initial panic returning. Ali was right that she didn't remember anything, that she didn't know anything about herself. “Who am I?” she asked, as much to her own blank mind as to the companion.

  Neither had an answer for her, it seemed. Ali shook her head. “The logs of the ship we rescued you from had no information about you, other than that you were taken from the streets of a planet called Helios 4, had no family or friends, and there are no records of you on the allnet. Other than what we know of what your captors did to you, and where you were intended for, I'm afraid I can't help you with any details about you or your past. You may wish to choose a name for yourself until you can discover those answers.”

  She frowned. “I'm not sure I know any names. Does that mean I didn't know any before the mind wipe?”

  The companion paused, thoughtful. “More likely it's an aspect of losing your memory. You'll probably be able to recognize names you hear as proper nouns, even if you can't think of any.” She rested a comforting hand on hers. “If you wish, I can help you choose a name that will fit y-”

  “Lana,” a deeper, compelling voice said from behind her.

  She whirled to see a tall man with broad shoulders and graying blond hair standing in the doorway of the medical bay. In the same way, she recognized the medical equipment, and that Ali hadn't been human, she was also able to place his age as most likely in his early 40s, although very fit and athletic for middle age. She could also recognize that he was fairly handsome, in a distinguished and authoritative kind of way.

  His expression was relaxed, even kind, but she still felt a surge of fear at his unfamiliar features. “Do I know you?” she asked tentatively.

  “No. You just look like someone who might be named Lana, and I like the name.” He stepped forward, holding out his hand, but paused when she shrank back. “My name is Aiden Thorne. I'm captain of the Last Stand, the starship you're currently on.”

  Captain, meaning he was in charge, although of what she wasn't sure. Starship, meaning a vessel designed for space travel, although what space looked like or why traveling through it was important, she didn't know.

  She also wasn't sure why he'd stuck his hand towards her, although the move didn't seem threatening.

  Lana. Did she like the name? Actually, she had absolutely no preference one way or another. But at the same time, it was a relief to not have to pick one for herself, since she didn't even know any other names, aside from Ali and now Aiden Thorne.

  In any case, at least the name the captain had suggested for her was short and easy to remember. “I suppose I'm Lana then, Aiden.”

  He smiled, which for some reason made her cheeks feel warm. “Then it's a pleasure to meet you, Lana.” He pointed to his hand. “This is a common gesture of greeting called a “handshake”. You take my hand with your opposite one, and we hold on for a few seconds, usually move our hands up and down slightly a few times, then let go.”

  She couldn't think of any reason for that. “Why?”

  “Void if I know.” He took her hand in his, making her cheeks felt warm again at the solid, somehow reassuring grip, then let go and stepped back. “Has Ali told you about your situation?”

  “Just that my mind has been wiped, my memories taken, and now I'm something called a Blank Slate,” Lana said hesitantly. “She didn't tell me who did it to me, though, or why.”

  Aiden shook his head grimly. “Why is a bit difficult to answer, aside from the simple fact that some people are greedy and evil and willing to do unspeakable things to innocents. As for the who, that would be the Deeks.”

  He stopped, as if that explained everything. “You say that like I should know who you're talking about,” she said, not sure whether to be amused or morose.

  The captain looked slightly chagrined. “Right. You're probably the only person in the universe who doesn't. Aside from other Blank Slates, I guess . . . an infinitesimally small silver lining to that life-destroying cloud.”

  He straightened, clasping his hands behind his back. “Deek is slang for members of the Deconstructionist Movement, who currently rule humanity in a downward spiral of oppression and chaos and think it's for our own good. They act with such conviction that even being constantly bombarded by the reality of the terrible consequences of their actions won't change their minds.”

  Aiden's voice had grown more and more heated as he spoke, teeth gritted and green eyes flashing. And he probably would've kept going had Ali not gently cleared her throat.

  That made him blink, and he relaxed with another chagrined look. “Ahem. Well, I could rant endlessly about Deeks and their depredations, but Ali doesn't like to see me get upset. Simply put, they're in charge in the universe and the Last Stand is at war with them.”

  The companion spoke up calmly. “The ship's databanks have extensive information about all this, Lana. I believe you would benefit from studying it, to help fill in the gaps in your memories.”

  Gaps? More like the complete absence of them.

  But a more pressing question filled her thoughts. “You mentioned that the people you rescued me from intended to take me somewhere,” she told Ali. “Where, and why?”

  Ali and Aiden glanced at each other, the companion looking sympathetic and the captain almost uncomfortable. He was the one who answered. “They intended to sell you to a brothel. Do you know what that is?”

  Lana did, at least technically. A place where people paid to have sex with other people. She didn't know what specifically that entailed, though, or why it was something people would do. Or what payment was, other than a means of getting something. But she also recognized something else. “Sell?”

  The captain grimaced. “You were a slave.” He must've seen in her reaction that she knew what that was as well, at least in definition, because his expression became sympathetic. “Emphasis on were. There are no slaves aboard my ship, and here you're free to make your own choices.”

  Well, that answered at least part of her next question. Lana hesitated, not sure if she wanted to know the answer, then took a deep breath. “What happens to me now?”

  Ali patted her hand comfortingly, and Aiden gave her a sympathetic look. “I suppose that's up to you,” he said. “If you're willing to work hard and accept the risk of serving on this ship, I could invite you on as a member of the crew. You'd have to prove yourself as excellent as the rest of the crew, however.”

  She felt a surge of panic. “How can I do that when I don't know anything?”

  “I'd be willing to give you some time, but I hope you're a fast learner.” The captain nodded to the companion. “It's not a decision you have to make right away. For now, you're welcome to access the ship's databanks on an account Ali will provide for you, study whatever you like that's not restricted. We have a more complete database than most, since we've taken great pains to preserve as much of the history and knowledge of humanity that the Deeks have tried to destroy as we can.

  “I'll also authorize Ali to tutor you whenever she's free of other responsibilities,” he continued. “Help you learn what you need to get by in this crazy universe you've found yourself in. Her internal database is almost as extensive as the ship's, even more so in many useful areas, and she's fully qualified to operate all systems, so she can teach you what you need to know. Also, she can help you figure out mannerisms and other things you've forgotten, make it easier for you to fit in socially.”

  “Thank you,” Lana said, relieved. The idea of trying to use technology she'd never used before on an unfamiliar starship was intimidating, but she couldn't think of anything she wanted more than to have a chance to relearn at least some of what she'd lost.