Page 3 of Wayfinder (The Outlander Book Club… in Space! #5)

As much as I loved coming here, I’d always felt out of place.

My sister’s apartment on the Ardeese Valout space station was the epitome of luxury.

Too luxurious for one who counted a warship as home.

The white fur sofa I occupied seemed too soft, and I was always on guard lest I leave a smudge or spot on the pristine fabric.

My sister, however, deserved every inch of the niceties.

Her official title might be Chief of Engineering Operations, but as mate to Praxxan, the wealthy Stranac who owed the Ardeese Valout, she was more like a queen.

All who lived on the space station were under my sister’s purview.

Even visiting royalty like Baron Oappo acquiesced to her firm but gentle hand.

I just hope Pearl did.

Patience was never my strong suit. For the dozenth time in the last hour, I rose from the sofa to pace in front of the wall of windows overlooking the docking bay.

Hundreds of ships arrived and departed daily, everything from massive supply ships to small schooners carrying individuals wishing to avail themselves of the amenities the Ardeese Valout offered.

Somewhere in the mass of vessels sat my small two-seat interceptor.

Small and sleek and wickedly swift, the ship had one purpose.

To escape. The only chance I had to get Pearl away safely was to get her away fast.

The Baron’s bragging had only complicated things.

Despite having Jala and Praxxan’s help, I would have only a narrow window to get Pearl off the space station.

Now, I’d lost part of that window because of the chef competition.

Not only would the competition steal valuable time, but it would make Pearl more of an oddity and more closely watched.

Hopefully, Jala would be able to convince the human female to take me on as her assistant.

Not only did she need protection in the upcoming competition, but my presence at her side would become commonplace, making it easier for us to slip away together.

Of course, if she kept throwing knives at my head....

I’d used Jala’s connections to gain entry into the Baron’s suite, intent on making contact with Pearl.

I knew the Baron acquired her for his harem, but rumor had it she’d proven herself an excellent chef and earned a place in the kitchens.

Something I was most happy to discover. I wouldn’t wish being in Baron Oappo’s harem on my worst enemy.

I’d found her alone, chopping a pika root into thin, almost translucent slices. Her long, delicate fingers handled the knife with confidence and precision. Faux sunlight streamed from overhead, sparking red in the brown hair she wore pulled back into a low, messy bun.

I’d cleared my throat, planning to introduce myself and inform her that her friend Emmy had sent me to affect a rescue.

As the word hello left my lips, she glanced up, sharp, deep blue eyes centering on me.

Her face was heart-shaped, with pale skin, pink cheeks, and full lips.

The shock playing across her face had been breathtaking, and for a moment, I found myself utterly dumbfounded.

I’d seen many human females in my life—many females in general—but I had to give her credit for being the most beautiful thing I’d ever laid eyes on.

Then she frowned, yelled at me to get the hell out of her kitchen, and threw a knife at my head. I had to admit—it was a decent throw. The blade embedded in the door frame, scant inches from my ear. If I hadn’t been so appalled, I might have been impressed.

I hoped when she discovered her friends sent me to her aid, her desire to kill me might abate.

A faint buzz heralded my sister’s arrival. Jala swept through the door, holding her head at a slight angle as she listened to the diminutive blue-skinned Framaddi female who acted as her assistant.

“The competition transport will be ready to leave the docking pay at seventeen hundred hours tomorrow.” The Framaddi, whose name was Trafelia, held a data pad, short blue fingers flying over the screen.

“Thank you.” Jala met my gaze, a faint arch to her brow. My signal to pay attention. “Has the Baron selected a proctor for the competition?”

“Yes, he has selected Chancellor Qaimus.”

I don’t know who rolled their eyes more, Jala or me. Chancellor Qaimus had a reputation for being rather foolish.

“And the judges?” My sister pressed.

“All are from Baron Oppo and Baron Palloy’s entourage. Counselor Trie of the Romvesians, Lady Jessup of the Aljani, and Master Iffas. I believe he has asked Praxxan to judge as well,” Trafelia said.

The expression that crossed my sister’s face wasn’t pleasant. I could predict with certainty that Praxxan would not be involved in the competition.

“Thank you, Trafelia,” Jala sighed. “Please make sure all safety protocols are in place."

“Yes, Lady.” The small Framaddi gave a curt bow and slung a curve of her lips in my direction before hustling out the door.

“Well?” Again, patience was not my strong suit.

Jala heaved an exasperated sigh, like one of many I received in my childhood, and dropped onto the corner of the sofa. “Human Pearl has agreed to let me select a protector for her.”

“Good.” My hands began checking over the many blades and weapons housed in my bandolier. “I will make myself ready.”

“Hold, brother.” Jala held up her hand again with an exasperated sigh. “Let us wait until just before the transport departs to make contact. It gives human Pearl less time to refuse you.”

“You think she would refuse me?” I felt shocked and a little aggravated by my sister’s words.

Jala’s slender shoulders shrugged. “You tried to enter her kitchen once before, and it did not go well.”

“ Not go well is an understatement,” I snorted, moving to sit on the other end of the sofa.

“She is very particular about having someone in her kitchen,” Jala conceded. “However, I described the dangers of the competition, and she seemed convinced of needing protection. Perhaps if we wait until just before the transport leaves to present you, it will make her more amenable.”

I weighed her words. I’d never admit it aloud, but Jala was usually right.

Our parents died when I was still a youngling.

Jala was young, too, just out of her school years, but she never balked at taking responsibility for my care.

She always did what was best for me, although at the time, I often didn’t agree.

I’d threatened to run away when she insisted we leave our home world in order to further my education, but she’d been right, as usual.

Her care allowed me not only to study navigation but to become a Wayfinde r—a designation that few in the universe possessed.

With diligent study and training, I no longer needed the use of maps or star charts.

I possessed an inner compass that, no matter the chaos, allowed me to find my way.

The only thing my sister ever did that I didn’t agree with wholeheartedly was her mating with Praxxan.

He was a good enough male, from an excellent family and brother to Siemba, who headed the spy network we Vaktaire relied upon to rescue abducted humans.

Praxxan adored my sister and doted on her.

My sister held a deep affection for him as well.

The trouble was, Praxxan was a Stranac, not a Vaktaire, which meant that while my sister tied herself to him in the way of the Stranac, it could never be a true mating in the way of the Vaktaire.

For a Vaktaire to have a true, goddess-blessed mating such as my parents enjoyed, it must be done with another of our kind.

The valakana, the ritual whereby a Vaktaire claimed his or her mate, comprised stopping and starting one’s heart many times until it beat in sync with one’s mate.

History had proven only the Vaktaire were strong enough to withstand the ritual.

Still, I liked Praxxan. And I practically worshipped Priemba.

As if summoned by my thoughts, the entryway slid open, admitting a bundle of adorableness.

“Uncle Jutuk!”

She stood no higher than my knee, her small body holding on to the chubbiness of youth. Her pelt was thicker than mine and a deep, rich tan color. She had my sister’s high cheekbones, full lips, and golden eyes, but her hair was a long, thick, flowing yellow mane, like her father’s.

“Hello, my princess!” I held out my arms just in time for Priemba to launch herself into my embrace. “How was your day?”

“Most excellent.” Priemba preened, slinging her small black satchel on a nearby table and settling into my lap. “I got very high marks in mathematics today.”

“Well, of course, you did,” I attested in mock seriousness, ignoring Jala’s eye roll. “You are the smarted youngling in the entire universe.”

“I am,” Priemba grinned, dissolving into shrieking giggles as my fingers found her ticklish spots.

My sister tried to adopt the composure of exasperated indulgence. Still, she couldn’t hide the delight dancing in her golden eyes.

“Priemba, my heart. Why don’t you go clean up? We will have dinner shortly.”

The youngling looked to me for assistance, but I set her firmly on her feet.

She needed to clean up. Her light gray school uniform held smudges of black and brown, and there was a small rip at her shoulder.

I made a mental note to ask what ruckus had caused her disheveled state, but later, when we could have a private conversation.

Priemba possessed a warrior’s heart, much to my delight and my sister’s chagrin.

Issuing me a glance of utter betrayal, Priemba stomped off toward her chambers, her full lower lip rolled out in an adorable pout.

“You are good with her,” Jala said when her daughter was out of earshot.

“I do not see her nearly enough.” My duties aboard the Bardaga kept my visits usually limited to only once a year.

“Perhaps you should think about having a family of your own.” Jala’s eyebrows waggled suggestively.

“That is not the life of a Vaktaire warrior,” I groused.

“Mating on our home world, yes,” Jala agreed. She scooted incrementally closer, as though preparing to tell me a most coveted secret. “Praxxan has heard that some of the Vaktaire have taken Earth females as mates.”

“That is true,” I told her. “Our Healer, Chieftain, War Chief, and Weapons Master have all taken human mates." I kept to myself that I held serious doubts regarding the validity of these matings. Humans were a frail species. I doubted they would survive the valakana.

“Hmmm.” Jala’s lips curled slyly. “Perhaps you will feel so inclined with a human female. Pearl is very attractive for her species.”

“Pearl?” I barked a sound of disbelief. “She threw a knife at my head.”

“You probably deserved it,” Jala snorted.

“I did not,” I grumbled, although in hindsight, I might have.

“I like human Pearl. She is a strong female.” Jala scooted close enough to lay her hand over mine. “I could wish worse for you, brother.”

I snorted.

Jala’s teasing demeanor disappeared with a blink of her eyes. “I worry for her in the competition. You must be on guard. Not only will slavers take any opportunity to steal Pearl as a prize, but the other chefs resent having to compete against a human they see as beneath them.”

“I’m not as worried about protecting Pearl from others as I am protecting myself from her,” I quipped.

Jala shot me an aggravated glare before responding to a knock at the door with an authoritative, “Enter.”

Trafelia shuffled into the room, carrying a container from which the most delectable aroma arose—savory meat, spices, and a warm, rich scent like superb wine.

“What is that?” I asked, licking my lips.

My sister issued a pleasurable hum, taking the bowl from the Framaddi and inhaling greedily.

“This is a sample of human Pearl’s prowess in the kitchen,” Jala said, licking her lips. “Something I believe she called Cock a van .

Cock? Pearl cooks cock?

I might be in more trouble than I thought.