CHAPTER 1

The pirate ship was long and lean. A giant skull and crossbones had been painted flamboyantly across her nose.

She was anything but subtle.

"I don't like this," I said for at least the fifth time that day as I stood at the prince's port window, eyeing the bold monstrosity. The sun was falling low in the sky over the spaceport of Roland. It would be dark in an hour.

"We're too easy of a target. All they have to do is follow us."

"You worry too much, Captain Kelley."

I wasn't surprised at the response. We had, after all, been going in circles about this very subject all day. I turned to eye Rikard.Prince Rikard. He wasn't actually a prince, but it was the title he preferred. His father was a Regent of the Empire, easily one of the four most powerful men in the quadrant, and one of the richest. Rikard liked to make sure everybody knew it.

"What if they know you're on board?" I asked.

Rikard lounged against his dresser wearing nothing

but a thick fur robe. It gaped open, revealing the smooth, pale skin of his chest. His dark hair was artfully tousled, even though he hadn't bothered to leave the privacy of his room all day. He looked incredibly bored by the entire

conversation.

"How would they? Anyway, the longer we stay, the more likely they are to find out. Better to leave now, before they get word of us."

I sighed. Yes, that made sense. Maybe. But once we

left orbit, we'd be easy pickings. Our small ship had a few weapons on board, but nothing capable of fighting off a ship like theirs. We'd have only our lock code to protect us from their barbarism. Every instinct I possessed told me to stay in Roland until the pirates were long gone. "There's no reason we can't wait," I argued.

Rikard lit one of his expensive imported cigarettes and blew the thick blue smoke in my general direction. He always did that when I started to bore him. "I don't want to waste any more time on this backwater planet."

"You have all the time in the world. It doesn't matter if you reach Belhah next week or next month." This was, after all, nothing more than a whimsical pleasure-jaunt for him. Never mind that eight guardsmen, Captain Jerald, and I all had to leave our homes—and for a few, their families as well—to escort him on his way. Never mind that as captain of his guard, it was my duty to point these things out. "It's safer if we wait!"

Rikard rolled his eyes and blew another stream of

smoke. "Your objection is duly noted, Captain Kelley." He

turned away from me to tap ash into a glass bowl on his dresser. "Inform Captain Jerald that we'll leave at once."

I gritted my teeth, and clenched my fists, biting

back my protest. I knew when I was beaten. "Yes, sir."

I was halfway out the door when he called out,

"Trissy?"

The pet name had always annoyed me. I stopped,

but didn't turn to look at him. "Yes?"

"I expect you back here once we're underway."

Rikard's access to Regency resources didn't include spacecraft, and he'd been forced to hire an independent pilot for his trip. Jerald wasn't part of the Regency, or her militia. Technically, he had no authority over me or my men, but he'd made it clear since day one that he was captain of his own ship. He was less than pleased by Rikard's determination to leave.

"He's a gods damned fool!" Jerald swore. "Does he want to get us all captured?"

Jerald was at least fifteen years older than me. He was muscular and rough, scarred and cynical, and he made me feel inadequate in every way imaginable. We were roughly the same height at about two meters, but I'd always

been on the lean and lanky side. No matter how much time I spent in the gym, I'd never have his bulk. He made me feel small. "I tried to talk him out of it," I said, only because I wanted him to know I wasn't as much of a fool as our employer.

"If those bastards follow us, we're fucked," Jerald said. "Can't outrun them. Can't outfight them. No damn Regency Patrol in the blind space to protect us, either."

"I know."

"Nothing but the gods damned lock code between us and them, which ain't much comfort."

"I know," I said again. The lock code would keep the pirates from boarding the ship if we were captured, but as Jerald had said, it was small comfort. We'd still be at their mercy. They could blow the hatch doors and let the vacuum of space kill us all, then sell the ship for salvage.

Or they could simply wait us out. Once food and air started to become scarce on our tiny craft, somebody was bound to become desperate and open the door for them. Then the pirates could ransom us, or sell us to slavers, and do as they pleased with Jerald's ship.

Jerald sighed heavily. "Ain't sure this trip is worth it." He turned to the controls and began to punch buttons with a ruthless efficiency. "Getting paid double ain't worth much if I'm locked in some pirate cell or dragged off and

sold to a mine in the void."

His words surprised me. "You're being paid

double?" I asked, trying not to sound too shocked.

Jerald laughed. "'Course I am! Ain't you?"

Of course I wasn't. I'd asked Rikard for extra pay

for all of the guardsmen, but he'd sworn he couldn't afford it. You know my stipend is small, Trissy, he'd whined.

Complaining about how little of his father's money he actually had access to was one of his favorite pastimes.

Anyway, he'd said, it's a vacation for everybody, once we get there!

That part was true, at least. Once we reached the

resort planet of Belhah, there'd be plenty to distract the men from their shallow pay. It was the reason so many of the younger guards had jumped at the chance to escort the prince while the older ones had opted to stay home. The Regencies controlled the quadrants and kept them relatively secure, but flying through the blind space between them was always risky. Whatever pleasures Belhah held,

certainly they could be found closer to home? As a result, most of my crew on this mission were depressingly young and inexperienced.

"I'll power up," Jerald said. "But I ain't pulling out

'til well after dark. With any luck, the damn pirates'll be offship boozing and whoring and won't notice us slip

away."

It seemed like as good a plan as any.

I avoided going back to Rikard's room for as long as I could. I found the men playing cards, and informed them of the prince's orders. I went to my quarters. Of all the men on board, only Rikard, Jerald and I had private rooms.

Mine was tiny, but the other men were crammed four to a cabin. I was grateful for small favors.

I changed into my exercise clothes and made my

way to the room deep in the belly of the ship that served as a gym of sorts for myself and my fellow guards. I ran on the treadmill until my legs felt like rubber and my lungs burned.

At twenty-five, I was young to be captain of the

prince's personal guard. I knew I should have been pleased, and sometimes I was. But at times like this, stuck on a tin can in the middle of nowhere simply because Rikard was bored of the whores at home, I couldn't help but wish I was still a lieutenant with my old regiment.

Back in my own quarters, I showered and dressed.

When I was done, I stood in front of the mirror,

straightening my uniform. I wasn't sure why I bothered. I knew I wouldn't be wearing it long. It wasn't standard military issue. It was the uniform of Rikard's private guard.

It was stiff and cumbersome, with far too many layers. It

was designed for flash, not function. It was completely impractical for fighting, but it made us all look respectable.

It made Rikard feel important.

I thought about the pirates. I'd seen them earlier, going about their business in the port. If their ship was outrageous, it was nothing compared to the men

themselves. They were impossible to miss. Almost all had shaved the sides of their heads and had tattoos on their skulls. Many had grown what was left of their hair into long mohawks, either spiked or ratted into place, dyed garish, unnatural colors. They wore silk shirts and fine leather boots, all undoubtedly stolen, and the men I'd seen wore more eye makeup than the most common whore back home.

They were peacocks. I found them disturbing.

I checked my uniform in the mirror one last time,

debating whether I was going to indulge myself, if only for a moment. In the end, I decided there was no real reason not to. A gray metal cabinet built into the wall of my room served as my dresser. I knelt and pulled out the bottom drawer. Hidden behind it was a bag. My heart raced as I pulled it out. My cock grew hard in the confines of my uniform pants.

It was a risk bringing these items on board, but

faced with weeks or even months away from home, I hadn't

been able to leave them all behind. It was a small pleasure.

Why should I deny himself?

I reached into the bag, fondling what was hidden

inside, wishing I could do more. Wishing I could take them out and feel them against my flesh…

But it wasn't to be.

With a sigh, I put the bag back in its hiding spot and replaced the dresser-drawer that hid it. I shifted my fading erection in my pants before leaving my room.

I had one last duty I was expected to perform

tonight.

Rikard was waiting for me. He was slightly drunk,

still wearing only his fur robe.

"Captain Kelley," he said as he grabbed my belt and pulled me through the door. "You made me wait so long."

"My apologies, sir."

"Oh, Trissy," Rikard purred as he pushed close and began to undo my pants. "Don't pretend like you don't know why you're here." He wrapped one arm around my neck and pulled me down into a kiss. His lips were cold but his tongue was sweet and smoky from the tobacco he

smoked. My body began to respond to him, as it always

did. Sometimes I thought my cock did it just to spite me.

"Fuck me, Trissy," he whispered. "Don't you want to fuck me?"

Did I? It was a question I'd pondered a great deal, both before and after I actually did the deed. I didn't love the prince—I barely even liked him, most of the time—and while it was true the time spent in his bed often felt as much like duty as pleasure, the simple fact remained that when Rikard shed his robe, when he got down on his hands and knees in front of me and begged me to fuck him, I always rose to the occasion. I knew it made me weak, and yet it never changed. As I gripped the prince's hips and drove into him from behind, I always found it hard to remember why I sometimes loathed him. Whatever his

other faults, the man was a great fuck. He was a demon in bed.

Of course, once it was over, Rikard would light one of his expensive cigarettes. He'd put his robe back on and dismiss me with a flick of his slender wrist. It never hurt my feelings. My pride, though? My pride suffered a bit each time. It was at that moment I always wished I wasn't the prince's favorite playmate. That was the moment when I wondered if my willingness in bed had gained me my

promotion, rather than my prowess as a captain.

"Come on, Trissy," Rikard moaned, grinding

against me harder, looking up at me with glazed, pleading eyes. "Fuck me, baby. I know you want to."

His pupils were huge. There was more than alcohol

and imported tobacco flowing through his bloodstream. I knew what that meant—Rikard's favorite drug made him wanton, and more than a little bit desperate. It heightened his arousal while making his orgasm frustratingly elusive.

It might have helped if I was willing to use some of it myself, but I hated the way it made me feel in the morning.

"Fuck me," Rikard said again as he reached down and began to stroke his own cock. "Trissy, I need it. Now!"

I sighed as I began to unbutton my stiff uniform

coat. For better or worse, I was in for a very long night.