Salvaging Abby (Marks Mercenaries Book 4) Read online

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  Copyright© 2019 N.J. Walters

  ISBN: 978-0-3695-0010-6

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Karyn White

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  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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  Publishing a book takes a dedicated team of people. Thank you to the amazing people at Evernight Publishing for working so hard to bring this book to life.

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  SALVAGING ABBY

  Marks Mercenaries, 4

  N.J. Walters

  Copyright © 2019

  Prologue

  Jasper Freeman was not happy. He sat behind the desk in his office and glared at the man standing across from him. One of his very expensive spaceships had been blown out of the sky and his master gardener taken from his home. He considered Eden his private domain, his kingdom.

  As leader of the Simplistics, he’d founded Eden on the principle of simplicity—for others. He preferred to live well, to have others do the backbreaking labor while he reaped the rewards. It had worked quite satisfactorily for him, except for a couple of minor glitches.

  He was a good-looking man, charismatic, and he used it to his advantage. Few saw beyond the public mask he wore. It slipped now as he spoke to his second in command.

  “What do you have to say for yourself, Ian?” Ian Reader had been his right-hand man for years. Not that Jasper trusted him, but he did depend on him.

  “Sir, the men with Ms. Astoferus took us by surprise.”

  Jasper had been shocked to discover the very rich and connected Angelina Astoferus had come to visit Eden while he’d been away.

  “You didn’t recognize the men?” Jasper had paid well for the best security.

  “There wasn’t time as we had no warning of her arrival.” Ian was starting to sweat. “It was only after…”

  “After they’d gone. After they’d destroyed one of my ships.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And what have you discovered in the time since?”

  “Sir, the men with Ms. Astoferus were Amos and Garth Marks, originally from the planet Quaros.”

  Everything inside Jasper went cold. He stared at Ian, a frigid fury burning inside him. He’d thought they’d died in the mining blast. He’d planned it all so carefully. Failure was not something that sat easily with him. He would rectify his mistake at the earliest opportunity.

  “Ah,” Ian continued. “We assume they came looking for Abigail.”

  Abigail, the lovely young lady he’d taken from Quaros after setting off a series of mining explosions. He’d waited for years for her to grow up so he could take her as his wife. She’d managed to escape before that could happen.

  She, like Eden, and everyone else who lived on the planet, belonged to him.

  Jasper pushed to his feet and came around his desk. Ian stood straighter, while a bead of sweat rolled down his temple. “I’m going to find Abigail and bring her home.” He knew who’d taken her. It was only a matter of time until he tracked her down. She was elusive, but he was relentless. He would find her.

  “Yes, sir,” Ian agreed.

  “Have my ship readied.” He still had his personal craft. It was fast and powerful, built for speed and defense. “You’ll stay here and take care of things on Eden.”

  “Yes, sir. And there’s a new report just in.”

  “Good.” He’d been searching for years. He would find Abigail and bring her home. Whether she wanted to come was irrelevant. She belonged with him.

  Chapter One

  Three months later…

  Abby rolled over in bed and moaned, unable to escape the nightmare that often plagued her when she slept. Explosions burst behind her eyelids, covering the dreamscape with a fire that seemed almost alive as it consumed everything and everyone in its wake. Screams filled the air until only the roar of the inferno could be heard above them. The ground beneath her feet trembled and began to pull apart.

  She started running toward the mine, but it was too late.

  She was always too late.

  Sightless eyes stared up at her, silently accusing. Why had she lived when so many others had died?

  Flames danced before her, a deadly curtain, shutting her off from those she loved. She heard her name being yelled over and over again, but she could never see them. They were never there.

  Resolute, she stepped forward, walking into the fire, ready to join them.

  Gasping for air, Abby sat upright in her bunk. She was sweating, her skin hot even though the room was temperature controlled to be at the optimum level for comfort. “Shit.” She scrubbed her hands over her face and shoved her hair out of her eyes.

  “Flynn, Amos, Garth, Kal.” She repeated the names over and over so she wouldn’t forget. She didn’t have so much as a picture to remember them by. All she had left of her brothers were faded memories, and most of those had been overshadowed by that final fateful day.

  “Get over yourself,” she muttered. Living alone, she’d gotten into the habit of talking to herself, but since there was no one around to consider her odd, she really didn’t care.

  Abby shoved the covers aside and took the two steps necessary to bring her to the tiny bathroom attached to her room. She stepped into the gel cleaning unit, closed her eyes, and prayed it would work. The ship was old, and things were always breaking down. Repairs were a way of life.

  The unit sputtered several times before the gel misted over her, followed by a blast of heat and the drying light. When the cycle was completed, she stepped out. It didn’t take her long to use the facilities, give her short hair a quick brush, and clean her teeth.

  Naked, she padded back into her room to dress. Her choices were limited. A band that went around her breasts—flattening and containing them—underwear, a flightsuit, and socks and boots.

  “Status?” she asked as she left the room behind and headed to the control room, which was conveniently located only steps away.

  “All systems functioning normally,” the computer voice replied.

  “Any sign of debris?”

  She entered the control room and sat in the captain’s chair. It still gave her a thrill and made her sad at the same time. “Thank you, Henry,” she whispered.

  Henry Dubois, AKA The Trashman, was known far and wide as a dealer in space debris. He was also her personal hero. She only had this ship and her freedom because of him. A fact she never forgot.

  “Quadrant four, sector seven,” the computer replied.

  “Let’s see what we’ve got.” She brought up the navigation screen and zoomed in on the area. The cleansing unit in her room might be iffy most days, but the navigation equipment was topnotch. She spent money where it counted. She could do without a shower. Having her engines give out or her shields compromised could result in her death. And she needed the navigation to work in order to be able to find space scrap.

  Sure enough, there was a small, unmoving vessel. It seemed intact, at least from this angle. “Scan for life forms,” she ordered. She hadn’t li
ved to the ripe age of twenty-two by being stupid. Space pirates often set traps for the unwary and naive.

  “None detected.”

  “Huh.” She sat back and contemplated her options. It was unusual to see an entire ship abandoned. Usually there were bits and pieces left over from explosions or accidents. And that’s where she came in.

  The Dreamer was a small salvage ship—small being the operative word. She was no threat to the bigger recovery companies. They mostly ignored her, which was just how she liked it. She handled the kinds of debris they’d pass over as not profitable enough to bother with. But there was always money to be made if a person was prepared to work. People were always willing to pay for scrap metal and parts. And every now and again she came across something really special that netted her an excellent payday.

  Not that she needed much in order to live. The ship was hers free and clear. Henry had left her the ship and some money when he’d passed. It had originally been named Gypsy, but Henry had changed the name of his ship to help protect her.

  She was the son he’d never had.

  She rubbed her hand across the back of her neck, wondering why the past was haunting her so much today. First the nightmare about her brothers and now memories of Henry.

  “Work,” she reminded herself. That’s how she got through the long days and nights alone without going stir crazy.

  “Scan for everything,” she ordered the computer. Better to be safe than sorry. While she had decent shields and weapons, she wasn’t stupid enough to want to take on any ship she didn’t have to. Not that many bothered with her. Salvage Dogs, as her kind were known, were seen as scavengers, often scorned and looked down upon by others.

  That was okay by her. Kept people out of her business.

  “Scanning,” the computer replied. “Gravasian ship.”

  “Are you shitting me?” Abby began to work the controls manually, searching for the mama ship, because no Gravasian vessel that small was out here on its own. She didn’t know much about the planet, other than that they were a warrior culture. No one messed with them unless they had a death wish.

  “No, I am not shitting you,” the computer replied in a monotone. She should never have tried to program a sense of humor into the thing. It took everything literally.

  Abby kept the Dreamer back a fair distance as she continued her search. Three hours later, she was convinced there were no other ships of any size in the area. She’d looked everywhere, and when it came to hiding, she was the master.

  Had the smaller vessel had problems? Had the person inside already been rescued? “You sure there’s nobody on board?” Ignoring the computer’s negative reply, she began to do the scan herself. There was no sign of life, but there was some kind of electric field, a shield of some sort. It could be blocking something or someone.

  Maybe they were hurt.

  “Don’t do it,” she told herself. “If there is someone on board, it’s likely they already called for help. You go in there, you could get into a world of trouble.” And that was exactly what she didn’t need.

  Stay under the radar, had been Henry’s advice to her. And it was damn good advice.

  The few times anyone had seen her over the years, Henry had introduced her as his son, Abe. With her short hair and bound breasts, most saw what they expected to see. The world was not a kind place to a girl or woman on her own. A lesson she’d learned early in life.

  For years, she’d thought of herself as Abe. It was only after Henry’s death she’d started to think of herself as Abby again. Not Abigail. That young girl had died along with her brothers in the rubble of an explosion on a small mining colony. Abby was a woman, a fighter.

  “So don’t be stupid. Fly away from that small craft.” Good advice. Sound reasoning.

  “Maybe just a quick flyby to see if there’s anyone onboard.” What if they were hurt? Abandoning someone wasn’t in her DNA. After all, she wouldn’t have what she had today if Henry had chosen to abandon her. This was her chance to pay back the favor.

  “I’m going to regret this,” she muttered. But she’d been alone for six months except for brief stops to offload salvage. Those trips were quick in and out missions at places where she was known. Or rather, Abe was known. They were “get in, get paid, get supplies, and get out” trips with no time to chat or socialize.

  The less people knew about her, the safer she’d be.

  Abby closed her eyes and took a deep breath, wishing once again that at least one of her brothers had survived the mine blast. But they hadn’t. She’d been taken by a man who’d she’d first seen as her savior but had quickly come to understand was her prison guard.

  “Don’t think about him.”

  Jasper Freeman was in her past, and that’s where she planned on keeping him. If it weren’t for Henry’s intervention, she’d still be on Eden and likely married to Jasper. That had always been his plan.

  Why her? She had no idea and no desire to find out.

  “Let’s do this.” Taking control of Dreamer, she moved closer. “Shields up,” she ordered. If there was anyone on board, they could very well be hostile. But if the ship was abandoned it would be a huge payday for her. She could hook it to her vessel and tow it to any Alliance planet. Little was known about the planet Gravas or their technology. She could be sitting on a goldmine. She could retire, maybe buy a place on an Alliance planet and not have to live in space or alone.

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” she cautioned. But for the first time in years, a sense of excitement built inside her. This could be her chance to get what she wanted out of life—a home and a family of her own.

  It was worth the risk.

  She maneuvered closer, staying alert for any fluctuations in the power source emanating from the smaller vessel. She did an entire circle and came around to the loading dock on the side. It would be easy to hook in there and explore.

  Taking her time, Abby skilfully brought the Dreamer into position. “Lock on.”

  “Locking on,” came the reply. There was the slightest jolt as the two ships connected. There was still time to change her mind. She could walk away from what might be the find of a lifetime.

  Abby shoved out of her chair and left the control room. “Keep things steady while I’m gone,” she ordered.

  “Yes, Captain,” the computer replied.

  She stopped at the weapons locker long enough to pull on a chest protector. It was cumbersome, but if there was someone on board and they weren’t friendly, it would stop a direct blast to her body from killing her and give her time to fire back. She holstered a blaster at her waist.

  Facing the door connecting the two vessels, she took a deep breath. “Let’s do this.” When her door slid open, she stepped forward, searching for the outside release for the other. After two minutes, she heaved a deep breath. “Well, shit. All that worrying for nothing.” If there was a way to get into the Gravasian ship, she couldn’t find it, and she’d seen a lot of different spacecrafts in her day.

  Before she could give up, the door silently opened on its own. Abby found herself facing a huge man in a battlesuit, complete with helmet and visor, not to mention the very large and nasty blaster in his hand.

  “Fuck me,” she muttered. She should have stayed in bed.

  ****

  If Vaden had been in a better mood, he might have laughed at the young man’s reply. No, not laugh, but maybe smile. Or at least a grin. But Vaden wasn’t happy. Not in the slightest.

  The fates or gods had conspired against him these past months. Not only had he lost an intended bride, and the lucrative business connection it would have brought him, but when he went off on his own to deal with his disappointment, his vessel had malfunctioned, leaving him stranded.

  He’d been trying to fix the problem when he’d been alerted to the other vessel. He’d opted to play dead in space rather than ask for help. If he could not repair the mechanical failure himself, he would contact his brother. And he’d rather cut off
his own arm than to have to do that. He’d never live it down. As it was, the incident with his bride, or lack thereof, would be a source of discussion when he was on his deathbed.

  His people took marriage, business, and commitment very seriously, but had come to understand many others did not. It was why they were such a secretive society. Some called them warlike. He preferred the term prepared.

  Any man on Gravas would fight and die to protect his family and homeland.

  And he might be far from home, but this ship was Gravasian property, and he would protect it with his life.

  He’d already scanned the ship docked to his and knew that the youth was the only one on board. Totally unexpected. He didn’t like unexpected.

  Where was the rest of the crew?

  The two of them stared at each another, neither of them backing down. Vaden admired the courage of the youth. Not many could face down a Gravasian warrior in full battlesuit without flinching.

  “Are you planning on shooting me?” Vaden asked, keeping his tone even. Not that he was worried. His suit would protect him from any blast the puny weapon of his opponent could dish out.

  His opponent didn’t answer. Vaden wasn’t sure if it was pure stubbornness or possibly fear keeping him mute.

  Information was power. Every Gravasian understood that. And the Dreamer wasn’t in any databank he had access to. His scan had revealed it was a small salvage vessel. “Who are you?” Vaden asked.

  “Abe.”

  The voice was more melodic than he’d expected. Vaden narrowed his gaze and studied the youth. Suspicious bluish-green eyes stared back at him. He caught a hint of fear behind the bravado. Good, the boy was smarter than he appeared.

  The flightsuit was covered by a chest protector, but the head was uncovered, leaving a prime target. The youth had fine skin, almost delicate.