Precipice

Fearing he already knew the answer, Qui

Naya looked at Lirev, who answered, “The one you faced on the dunes. The man with midnight skin.”

Zett. You sonofabitch.

Again suspecting he knew what bad news was coming, he asked the women, “Do you know where he took her?”

“Back to the desert, with the Klingons,” Naya said.

Qui

“Lirev, are your people at the temple good to go?”

“Yes,” she said. “They have met up with your fighters and are ready.” She lifted one of the Klingon communicators Qui

He nodded. “Okay, solid.” Turning toward Naya, he said, “Get the landgraves and other females to shelter.” To Lirev he added, “Tell the men to wait for my signal to attack.”

“What will be the signal?” asked Lirev.

“Trust me,” Qui

Naya called after him, “Mister Qui

This just keeps getting better and better. “And … ?”

“They left four soldiers there to ambush you,” Naya said.

Qui

“Delivered as promised,” Zett said as he handed the human woman over to Commander Marqlar, the officer in charge of the Klingon garrison at the desert temple.

Marqlar cupped the woman’s face in one large, callused hand. “Ski

“Can I trust you’ll abide by our agreement?” Zett asked.

The barrel-chested officer scowled at Zett. “For now,” he said, nearly bowling Zett over with the stench of blood and booze on his breath. “I still want to know what a pair of humans are doing this far from their Federation allies.”

“Knowing Qui

The commander furrowed his thick eyebrows as he eyed the woman. Like the rest of his garrison, Marqlar looked sandblasted by his tenure in the desert; tiny granules clung to the coarse hairs of his goatee and seemed to have scoured patches of color from his uniform. Despite his swarthy complexion, his face and hands looked sunburned. He frowned. “Might they be spies?”

“I doubt it,” Zett replied as he watched the soldiers force the woman to lie on top of the glossy black slab. “Qui

As the woman’s wrists were locked together through a gap in the altar’s base, Marqlar said, “We’ll know for sure once my men capture him and make him unlock his ship’s secured systems.” He threw a glare at Zett. “Some of the hardware they saw on board was new and highly advanced.”

From the altar, the woman called out, “It’s also all stolen.” She waited for Zett and Marqlar to give her their full attention, and added, “Qui

Her declaration made Marqlar smile. “And why are you telling us this?”

“Because there’s more hidden on our ship than gadgets,” she replied. “Dilithium crystals, ta

Zett held his arms wide and gri

“I’m not,” Marqlar said. He walked over to stand beside the restrained woman. “But then, not everyone longs for money. And I think you’ve failed to understand why we’ve brought you here.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Explain it to me.”

Marqlar kneeled beside her and dropped his voice to a menacing hush. “Whatever lives inside that artifact at your feet, it responds to blood sacrifice. The more we give it, the more control it grants us over this apparatus.”

He caressed her face with his dry, leathery fingertips. “Our first offering was one of the slaves’ children. It was a very successful effort, and my research team assures me only one more sacrifice should be necessary for us to take full control of this machine and unlock its secrets.”

The Klingon stood and gestured toward the temple’s entrance. “Unfortunately, it spooked our workforce. They fled in such terror that it took my men most of the day to round them up.” He looked down at the woman. “The last thing I need right now is a slave revolt—not because I couldn’t suppress it, but because I can’t afford to waste a valuable, finite resource.”

Zett stepped beside the woman as he explained, “That’s where you come in. You’ll make a perfect sacrifice to the Klingons’ new toy—just as soon as you’ve helped me lure Cervantes Qui

“You’re wasting your time,” she said, then shook her head. “Qui

Zett took a thin synthetic whetstone from a pocket of his white suit jacket and began sharpening his yosablade. The soft scrape of steel against stone drew an icy stare from the woman. He smirked at her.

“You don’t know Qui

46

Lieutenant Gortog crouched beside the mouth of the tu

The Nalori assassin Zett Nilric—who had helped Gortog’s crewmates from the I.K.S. Rojaqcapture the human woman who had been tending Qui

Unwilling to take the killer at his word, Gortog had ordered two of his men to patrol the catwalks that hugged the walls above the battered ship. He also had posted a fourth soldier inside the humans’ starship in case Qui

All that remained was for the human pilot to arrive.

The orders from Commander Marqlar had been clear: Capture the man alive and make him unlock the secured systems on his ship. Fortunately, alivedid not necessarily mean unharmed. Gortog sincerely hoped the human put up a fight.

Breathe slowly,he reminded himself. Be absolutely still as you await your prey.He adjusted his grip on his d’k tahg. The flat side of the ceremonial dagger’s blade was cool against his bare forearm. Though the night air outside the hollow building had begun to cool at sunset, the brick and mortar shell around the humans’ ship radiated the heat it had absorbed all day long.

Gortog sniffed and caught the faintest hint of the male human’s scent. He was close, but there still was no sound or sign of movement in the tu

Looking up to signal his sentries for reports, he saw no one on the catwalks. And he caught a new scent in the air: fresh blood. Klingonblood.

He activated his wrist communicator, lifted it close to his face, and said in a low voice, “Huruq, Kmchok, this is Gortog. Report.” Seconds passed without any reply from the men who were supposed to be guarding the roof and walls. Gortog felt his pulse quicken. Perhaps this human is a worthy foe, after all.