~ Loser's Game ~

by

Rhobin Lee Courtright

Waking in a strange place, Krayne tried to orient himself. It was difficult. His head ached and his gut knotted and rolled. The subtle hum and vibration were easily identified. He was aboard a ship. Memory of his abduction added to the illness he felt. Slowly he rolled to his side and levered himself into a sitting position. His head swam at the movement; he wished he’d remained still. Someone had undressed him down to his underwear. He inspected his quarters.

The surrounding cabin, though not spacious, was comfortable, luxurious by most ship standards, with plenty of lockers and every conceivable convenience. The soft, smooth feel of fine sheets beneath his hand drew his attention. A quilt lay over the rumpled sheets. A successful private liner, then, or privateer. He grimaced.

He reviewed his situation, and berated himself for letting his curiosity and libido overcome his common sense. He was a fool. If he lost control so easily, he was in a worse state than he imagined.

“You’re awake.”

He had not heard the door open. A petite woman with platinum hair as short as his own close-cropped head stood inside the door with a food tray. Her impish face studied him, exhibiting a friendly, but cautious, manner. He remembered her from somewhere.

She must have read his look, for she suddenly spoke in a familiar voice, “You Captain Krayne?”

“The street kid, it figures,” he said, memory clicking into place. Another stray thought crossed his mind. “Who’s Thor?” His voice remained thick, functioning as slowly as his mind.

Cheerful, mocking laughter answered him. “Drugged and kidnapped and your first question’s a jealous demand for information about another man.”

“Not jealous, just like to know my abductors.” Few words were easier. He did not bother explaining further. Her misplaced humor irritated him, let her think what she wanted. She would not be so damn perky if he were capable of movement.

“I can’t believe it. A few encounters with Jezlynn and you’re besotted. Well, you’re not the first.” She glanced at him thoughtfully. “You’re the only one she’s drug home, though.”

He let her ramble while he concentrated on gaining his self-control. Checking his wrist, he found his watch missing. Something hung from his neck. He touched it and found a restraint collar. His fingers curled around the thin band but he didn’t pull at it. Becoming aware of her intense scrutiny, he stared back. She was not any more beautiful than he was handsome, but impertinence served her well, making her unusual appearance striking.

“Sorry, merely trying to see what caught Jezlynn’s interest. As for Tommy, relieve your mind, he’s mine. Since you didn’t ask, I’m Merit. I’ve brought your dinner. Eating will clear up the remains of the drug’s effects. You want to eat in bed or move to a chair? Stand up, slowly,” she advised as he tilted oddly.

“Move to a chair. Why did she do it?” He rejected her help as he moved cautiously to a chair.

Merit shrugged. “Jezlynn keeps her own agenda. Said there was some kind of danger from that damn Merchant’s Guild. I guess she didn’t want that laid to her with everything else, not that any of this will do a damn bit of good.”

Eating, Krayne felt his mind clear. The food was good, and he was hungry. At least he wouldn’t starve. “How long have I been out?”

“Twelve hours. Jezlynn thought you must have been tired for the drug to knock you out that long.”

“I suppose it is useless to ask you to help me escape?”

“You’re right, useless.” Merit flopped on the edge of the bed he had vacated. “I owe too much to Jezlynn, including my life.”

Krayne ate silently for a minute. “You’re daring a rehab facility for your loyalty. Not a good exchange. You could help save her from herself.”

“Help you and I help Jezlynn? She wouldn’t see it that way. Neither would Tommy, even though he’s unhappy about this whole affair. So am I. It doesn’t matter. Anyway, there’s no where to escape to. You don’t need to worry, she won’t hurt you. I expect you’ll be back on your ship within days.” At his dour expression, she shrugged. “I know, but if Jezlynn goes to hell, we’ll join her there.”

“Thor short for Thorson, as in captain of the Polestar?”

“How...?”

“Read docking reports.”

“You’re getting back to yourself,” Merit said. “Good.”

“Where are we going?”

“On our way to Ullaries system. Jezlynn will tell you what she wants you to know.”

After Merit left, Krayne approached the door and felt the neck restraint tighten the nearer he got. As he expected, he managed to reach the door and touch it before the strangling sensation drove him away. Then he searched the room. Men’s underclothing filled the drawers. The locker held his blues, stripped of anything useful, and other men’s clothing. His boots were missing. The head contained men’s toiletries. He tried the computer, surprised to find it operative. Operative, in that entertainment remained available. Access to communications and ship logs was denied. He nearly ripped the unit out when he discovered the same entertainment and reading files as on the link in his quarters on the Nebulae.

Damn the bitch. Everything he needed for personal comfort was in the room, but nothing that could be used as a tool or weapon. His resolve hardened. He would escape, somehow, he swore. An opportunity would arise. Since the means were there, he took a shower, shaved and changed.

“Feeling sorry for yourself or contemplating escape?” an impertinent voice inquired.

Krayne turned, feeling a rage unfelt in years burn through him. Controlling his expression and tone of voice was beyond him. “Both. You’ve really out done yourself. Abducting a Service Corps officer is a serious crime.” His voice rose to a howl.