Beyond Galaxy's Edge (4 page)

“A sweet little Talor freightership. It’s
a bit battered-looking, but apparently Solomon keeps it looking like a rust bucket on the outside and in pristine condition on the inside. He’s taken in more than one Patrol ship—” Justyn broke off and glanced around the room with an apologetic grin “—and more than one less-savory character looking to relieve him of his goods.”

“We’ll pick him up on long-range sensor sweeps,” Nissa said.

Justyn shook his head. “No, you won’t. He has an X-59.”

Nissa stifled a curse. She’d been foiled by an X-59 before. It scrambled a ship’s signature, changing it periodically so it was impossible to track. The tech was experimental and very, very expensive. Solomon must be doing quite well in the treasure-hunting business to afford it. “What else do we have on him?”

Lieutenant Luciana Galen,
Nissa’s chief science officer, leaned forward. “Justyn patched us through to his cousin, Dathan, and his wife, Eos.” The normally sensible woman’s voice turned just a little breathless.

Nissa gave an internal sigh. Another starstruck fan of the treasure hunter. “And?”

Luciana cleared her throat, tucking a strand of her curly brown hair behind her ear. “Right. They said the main places Solomon
visits are Lisbon Station, the trade world of Duke and the grey-market world of Shilin.”

“He doesn’t have a permanent base, then?”

“No.” Justyn leaned back in his chair, his long legs out straight in front of him, crossed at the ankles. “He moves around a lot. Looking for the most lucrative hunts.”

“I heard on his last treasure hunt he found a diamond necklace that is said to have belonged
to a Terran queen named Marie Antoinette,” Bella said.

No wonder Solomon could afford an X-59. Edginess ran through Nissa’s veins. She wanted the document back. Now. “Do we know
anything
else that’ll help us find him?”

She noted Justyn watching her with those starlight eyes of his. Goddess, he left her unsettled. The sooner she found the Constitution, the sooner she got him off her ship.

“We also got a list of his usual buyers,” Justyn added.

Nissa felt a shot of interest. That was more like it. “If we could work out who he’s planning to sell it to, we can intercept him before the sale.”

Justyn nodded. “That’s the plan.”

She moved closer to the table. “Let me see the list.”

Justyn got his feet and swiveled his empty chair toward her. It was a show of manners she’d never
expected from him. She gave him a tiny nod and sank into the synth-leather. It was still warm from his body.

She focused on the screen in front of her as Gavin brought up the buyers. Each was accompanied by an image and vital details.

“Vincent Vano,” Justyn said.

Nissa stared at the hard, scarred face of the man who ran a lucrative organized-crime syndicate. “Mob boss out of the Nostra quadrant.”

“Not likely to be interested in the US Constitution.” Justyn’s voice sounded from over her shoulder.

No. Vano had a blatant hatred for the law.

The screen flashed. A gray-skinned face of an insectoid female filled the screen.

“Remala,” Gavin said.

Nissa scanned the woman’s details. “I’m not familiar with her.”

“Private collector.” Justyn gripped the back of Nissa’s chair, his fingertips
brushing between her shoulder blades. “Wealthy as sin and likes to spend it on artifacts, primarily manuscripts.”

Nissa moved minutely forward, away from the burn of that brief touch. “So, she’s a contender for purchasing the Constitution.” Nissa nodded. “Next?”

“Julius and Amorelia Zan,” Justyn said.

Nissa stared at the handsome, almost cruel, faces of the couple on the screen. “I’ve heard
their names. Who are they?” The man had dark-bronze skin and long, dark hair. The woman had pale-blue skin paired with a cascade of white-blonde hair. They were striking.

“Bonded telepaths. The live just outside the edge of the galaxy.”

She heard something in Justyn’s voice and glanced back at him. “You know them?”

“I’ve met them once or twice whilst on convoy with my brothers. You do
not
want to mess with these two. Individually, they’re both strong telepaths but together…they can amplify each other’s abilities.” He scowled. “They like to take control of people’s minds.”

Nissa glanced back at the screen in distaste. “Odds they’d want the Constitution?”

“We think slim,” Bella spoke up. “They like to collect artifacts and have an eclectic collection. Paintings, sculptures, books.”

Justyn shook his head. “Most of their collection has some link to telepathy. The last painting they bought was a starscape rumored to have been painted by the last of the Vega-Lyrans.”

Nissa raised her eyebrows. Vega-Lyrans—a long-lost psionic race capable of amazing feats of psychic ability. They were rumored to be able to control thousands of people, move entire starships or even destroy
a planet, simply with a thought. They’d been hunted to extinction and were now just a legend throughout the galaxy.

“Anyone else?”

Gavin drew in a breath. “Ulysses Mackon.”

Nissa’s eyebrows rose. “The pirate king of Alchemia?”

“The one and only,” Justyn said.

The image was of a handsome older man standing on the deck of an airship, gripping one of the tethers holding the deck to what
Nissa’s knew would be a huge cigar-shaped, black balloon above.

Mackon operated along the edge of the galaxy and was based on the steam-powered world of Alchemia out in uncharted space. He enjoyed nipping across the galactic border to attack any starships carrying cargo that interested him.

She’d been sent after him once but he’d crossed over the border and therefore outside her jurisdiction.
Mostly the GSS ignored him, more worried about the smugglers bringing goods
into
the galaxy rather than the pirates and thieves taking a few pilfered items out.

Just then Justyn leaned forward and reached over her shoulder to touch the screen. His big body crowded hers and she stiffened. She wanted to push him away but she didn’t want to cause a scene in front of her team.

She took a deep
breath and pulled in his damned alluring scent.
He’s a criminal, Nissa
. Even if he’d never been charged. Criminal was criminal, her father always said. Usually when he was talking about Nissa’s brother. Justyn was nothing like Maxir, but Commodore Jonathan Sander would lump Justyn Phoenix in the bad-guy category so fast Justyn would end up with interstellar whiplash.

Nissa stared at the holo-screen,
trying to focus. “I don’t think Mackon is a contender as a buyer.”

“Why?”

Justyn’s warm breath brushed over her cheek. He was still caging her in, leaning too close.

“He’s a pirate. Lives on a steam-powered world with little high technology.” What tech Alchemia had, Mackon controlled. The rest of the planet’s inhabitants were too poor to swap their anachronistic devices for anything else.
Mackon kept them where he wanted them, under his thumb. “Like Vano, he cares little for the law. Why would he want a symbol of it?”

Justyn’s hands moved again to the back of her chair. His fingers brushed her spine and Nissa felt a flush of warmth in her belly.

“Mackon has a wicked sense of humor. Guy lives to be contrary.”

“You know him?”

“Yep. Spent a bit of time on Alchemia.” Justyn
fingered the scar that cut through his left eyebrow.

“Is that where you got your scar?” The words slipped out of her mouth.

He grinned. “Sure. While I was swinging between airships, praying I wouldn’t land in the creature-infested waters below.”

She didn’t believe a word of it.

Justyn winked. “Alchemia has a certain old-fashioned charm.”

Nissa pondered the idea, and at the same time,
felt the maddening brush of Justyn’s fingers again. Not a mistake this time. A deliberate touch that traced along her left shoulder blade. She shrugged to break contact. “I still can’t see Mackon wanting the Constitution.”

“Believe me, the guy would think it the ultimate irony to have the damn thing hanging in that floating fortress he calls home.”

Nissa stood and turned. “We’ll consider it,
but for now focus on Remala.” She glanced at her team, waited for their nods of agreement.

A chime sounded from a console. Gavin tapped at the screen then looked up. “Solomon’s ship’s been spotted by a Patrol scoutship.”

“Where?” Nissa said sharply.

“At the Rimla Science Station. Near the galaxy border.”

Justyn flashed her a smug grin. “Only a few hundred million kilometers from Alchemia.”

Nissa used all her self-discipline to stay in control. Damn, she wanted to smack that grin off his face. “Fine. Lieutenant Allard, send the coordinates to navigation and set course for Alchemia.”

***

“It won’t work, Nissa.”

Justyn watched Nissa, all spit and polish in her navy-blue uniform, outlined by the large, floor-to-ceiling windows in her office off the ops room. Damned if he didn’t
itch to strip that uniform off her, slowly, and find out what she wore beneath it.

She spun and he saw those stunning eyes with their elongated pupils were hot.

“That’s Captain Sander to you.”

Fuck, that whiskey-smooth voice of hers drove him crazy. “Fine. Your plan is asinine,
Captain Sander
.”

She slashed a hand through the air. “I’ve been chasing criminals quite a long time, Phoenix.”
A pointed look.

She sure liked to point out his criminal status. All the time.

“My plan is sound. Take an armed security team down to the Alchemian capital, Cirrus City, find Solomon, and acquire the Constitution.”

Justyn pressed his palms against her glossy black desk and leaned forward. “As soon as a uniformed Patrol team sets foot on the floating city, Mackon’s men will be all over you.
Remember, you don’t have jurisdiction there. He can slaughter your team and no one will blink.”

He could see her chewing on that. He loved that clever mind. She’d almost outwitted him so many times and he knew, for all the spit and polish, she was an expert at strategic thinking outside the box.

“We need to go in quietly,” he said. “Dress like the locals. Ask discreet questions about Solomon’s
whereabouts.”

“How many people?”

He knew she’d see reason. “Two. Me and one other.”

She raised a brow. “You? You think I’m going to let you take the lead on this?”

“Yes. Because I’ve been to Alchemia, I know people there, and I’m your best chance.”

She huffed out a breath. “Damn it, you’re right.”

He shot her a wide smile. “I could get used to hearing you say that, darlin’.”

She
pulled a face. “Dream on, Phoenix.”

He fought to keep his smile in place. He had so many dreams about this woman saved up. He’d gotten used to going falling into his bunk every night and seeing her face in his sleep.

“Tell me who you’re assigning to come with me and I’ll organize some disguises. I’ve heard you have a pretty kickass goods printer on board.” Allard had told him about it. Justyn
could code in whatever he needed it and the printer would create it.

“I’m coming with you.”

He stilled. “What?”

“No way I’m letting you anywhere near the Constitution without me two meters from you.”

Her lack of trust stung. He dragged a hand through his hair. “I’m not going to run off with the damn thing.”

“So you say.” She rounded the desk. “So go and get our outfits organized. You’re
dismissed.”

He stared at her for a second, then left with a wave.

His boots made no sound on the rubber flooring in the corridor, nothing to distract him from his thoughts. She wanted to come with him to Alchemia. Fine, sure, no problem. The farther he walked, though, the more he warmed to the idea. This would be a prime opportunity for one-on-one time with Nissa Sander. Showing her the incredible
sights of Alchemia.

He’d finally have the woman of his dreams all alone, out beyond the edge. No rules, no laws, no limits.

Justyn was smiling as he commandeered the goods printer. He was whistling to himself as he ordered up his outfit. He was outright gleeful as he ordered Nissa’s clothes.

He organized for an ensign to deliver Nissa’s outfit in her personal cabin and headed off to the
cabin that had been assigned to him so he could shower and change.

He whistled as he walked. He couldn’t
wait
to see Nissa in her outfit.

As long as she didn’t try to kill him.

Hair still damp, Justyn yanked on brown woolen trousers, shrugged on a white lawn shirt with a stand-up collar, and followed that with a dark leather waistcoat. He holstered twin double-barreled pistols at his hips and tugged a leather ammunition belt—filled with honest-to-God metal projectile bullets—sideways over his chest. To finish, he yanked on short leather gloves and lifted
his hands. Hmm, he rather liked the dashing look of them.

Glancing in the mirror, the last thing he did was attach a clunky ocular device over his left eye. It was made of copper-colored metal with a glowing green lens in the center. It would blend in perfectly on Alchemia.

He looked around the cabin, adjusting to the enhanced view. No one would know it wasn’t actually grafted to his skin.
And no one—except him—would know that inside the antiquated shell was a modern, high-tech device that provided night vison and thermal imaging.

Time to see how his partner was doing.

He strode down the corridor and up a set of steps to where the captain’s cabin was located. He pressed a hand to the panel beside her door and waited for her permission to enter.

The doors slid opened soundlessly.
Everything on the
Freedom
was in top form. Nissa ran a hell of a tight ship.

He stepped into a modest living area with a small kitchen area tucked off to the side. A doorway led into what he guessed was her bedroom.

Bedroom.

Hers.

An instant cue for his brain to start running away thinking about where she slept…and did other…nighttime things…

“Just a minute,” she called out.