SurrendersMischief by Alvania Scarborough Page A

punish
him as he deserved. The men, on the other hand, silently smug at Darias’ use of
his new slave status to thwart her, were anticipating her failure in this, her
first real challenge as Supreme Chief. Well, they would just have to wait.
Despite the men of Nexar’s beliefs that women were weak, she was more than up
to this game of wills.
    “Wait for me in the garden,” Riana continued with deceptive
gentleness. She glanced at the two strapping women standing on either side of
Darias. “Escort him to my garden and stand guard.” She had the pleasure of
seeing pure rage spring to life in his gold eyes before he could control it.
She watched him leave, admiring his arrogance even as she vowed to crush it out
of him.
    “Does that mean we can’t get in the computer system unless
he gives us the password?” one woman asked.
    “No.” She thumped her clenched fist on the arm of the chair.
“I should have foreseen this.” She took a deep breath. “We’ll get into the
computer system. It’ll just take us a little time.” Conscious of the eyes
filled with trust looking to her to solve this dilemma, Riana felt a little
sick, but she gave them a bold smile. The first tenet of a good captain was to
project confidence, even when she didn’t know the freaking hell what to do.
Although handy with computers, she didn’t have a clue what code the system was
based upon and without that knowledge or the proper tools… “Of course! My
ship.”
    “Riana?”
    “I’ll use my ship’s computer to interface with this one.
Come with me.” Excitement raced through her veins. Now, if only the Midnight
Mischief wasn’t too badly damaged. Riana mentally crossed her fingers.
    * * * * *
    Her hopes rose as she surveyed her vessel. It was even
better than she’d dared dream. Apart from some minor hull damage, her ship
appeared in remarkable condition. The fierce ion storm had not seriously
impaired the outer structure.
    Riana placed her palm next to the hatch. A prickle of energy
washed over her, the automated intruder defense—designed to activate the minute
she physically left the ship—checking her bio-signs against those in its memory
banks. That tingle would knock an unauthorized person unconscious. The door
slid open with a mechanized hiss.
    The new members of the Council crowded around outside the
door, not able to muster the nerve to enter. Riana hoped their timidness soon
dissipated or the men would walk all over them, Darias’ decree notwithstanding.
    Inside, items were strewn everywhere, including her precious
bound books. Tenderly retrieving her favorite, The Damsel and the Dragon ,
she held it against her chest as she gathered clothes, holobook crystals and
whatever else she thought she might need and crossed to the helm. Her arms
full, she surveyed the array of equipment for external damage and found none.
Here went nothing.
    “Computer, status.”
    “Memory wipe to historical database 0115, files damaged in
geological database 7114. Anti-grav system unstable due to partial loss of
programming,” came the masculine voice of her computer, Barney.
    Damn. It had taken her two weeks and fifteen thousand
credits to wheedle the historical data on the Kalipse star system. Difficult,
secretive and paranoid, the Kalisids were masters at creating several of the
unique items her customers craved. But one had to approach them properly. One
misstep in the complicated, two-day greeting ceremony and you were toast.
    “What about the rest of the systems?”
    “Nominal.”
    Oh well, once she shook the dust of this planet from her
feet, she could hunt down the good lieutenant and again prevail on him to use
his sources to obtain the information she needed on the Kalipse system. Dumping
the armload of clothes, holobooks and assorted other clutter on the chair,
Riana paused only long enough to send a message to Sharri that she was okay and
would contact her soon. Spotting her palm computer still in its docking
station, she