In Enemy Hands Ch. 03

"No! Please, wait!" Varo yelled, stumbling back, fear slamming him. He grabbed at the collar, desperately dreading the pain to come. Why had Adlar activated the collar?

Adlar jerked around to look at Varo. "What? Oh." He held his hand, palm up. "Easy, easy. It's okay. I was just activating the computer, that's all. That's not the command for the collar."

Panting, Varo glared at Adlar. "Is that your language?

"You heard my warriors and me speak to each other at the crash site, so you know it is."

Fury quickly replaced anger. "It just sounds like a bunch of screeching to me. How am I supposed to tell the difference from one command to the other?"

"As far as the collar goes, it's simple. If you're disobedient, I'll give a verbal warning first in an effort to allow you to correct the behavior. If you don't, then I'll activate the collar and correct you myself. But I will give you a chance first."

"I'm not a child, you know. I'm a certified captain of a starship. Do you have any idea of the years required to achieve that?"

"I do, yes, and I admire you for earning such a title. I know you're smart, Varo, but your personality is that of a spoiled child. For that matter, so many of your ruling class is the same. You want, thus you take. Or try to. Your sense of entitlement is astounding."

Adlar rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Well, your pigheaded lack of foresight and financial savvy is appalling. Guess we're even."

"No, Varo, we are not 'even'. While I admire the accomplishments I see you've earned from the numerous tattoos on your arms, you are not my equal. I own you."

A red haze filled Varo's vision. He wished, desperately, for a weapon.

"Before you do something you'll regret, let me remind you I own you because you crashed on my planet. It was your own doing, not mine. If you follow through on the intent I see in your eyes, I will punish you. And I won't bother checking on how your crew is settling."

"Of course you hide behind this collar instead of facing me like a true... oomph!"

Varo found himself on the floor, one arm twisted behind him. Never had he seen another move so fast. One moment Adlar was at the communication center, and the next he'd rushed Varo. Adlar slid effortlessly between Varo's legs and came up behind him.

Before Varo could react, Adlar grabbed one arm, hooked Varo's foot, and put Varo on the ground, face first. Varo barely had time to blink before Adlar had his knee in Varo's back, and his arm behind him. The soft whisper of a knife leaving its sheath froze Varo.

"All I'd have to do is shove this into your neck at the base of your spine."

Varo squeezed his eyes shut.

"Princeling, I am an assassin. I train others to be assassins. I can kill with a touch, but I like the blade best. I like to get close to my target." Adlar stood and returned the knife to the ankle sheath. "We are not equals. Don't ever think that we are, and don't test me again."

Calmly, Adlar returned to the communications center and returned to placing clothing orders.

It took Varo a little longer to stand. Calm was the last thing he felt. Adlar had told him, but he hadn't believed it. Now he knew better. Adlar's attack had been silent and swift. He hadn't had time to react, not that it mattered. Adlar had him helpless on the floor in no time. And when had he put the knife sheath on? He'd missed that.

Adlar was a killer.

Varo slowly stood, unsure what to do with himself now.

Adlar finished and turned to face Varo. "Are you hungry?"

"I... yes, I guess so." Varo searched Adlar's face.

Adlar didn't look mad, or even annoyed. If it weren't for the fact he'd just been kissing the floor, he'd never know anything remotely scary had happened. Adlar acted as if it was nothing. The thought was sobering. To him, maybe it was nothing. Maybe life held no meaning to Adlar at all.

"Have a seat at the table then. I'm famished."

Adlar listed several different ideas for a meal. Many of the meats Varo had eaten before and knew. A few things he'd never had since the vegetables were indigenous to Helkan. He was slightly stunned he wasn't required to cook since he was the slave, but he kept his mouth shut.

Adlar soon had the kitchen smelling delicious. Varo had to admit the man certainly seemed to know his way around a kitchen. He was almost jealous.

"So, you like to cook, I take it?"

"Actually, yes. We have reduplicators, just like many advanced cultures. It's nice to program a meal and have it ready in moments. But it takes away the satisfaction of creating something by hand." Adlar shrugged. "Besides, I like cooking. It relaxes me. Do you cook often?"

Varo flipped his hair over his shoulder. "Honestly, no. I don't have..." He waved his hand around. "I have a room in the palace, but no private residence. I spend most of my time on the ship. I have my own quarters. More often than not, I'm on a mission. I prefer that."

"I see. That's a shame. Would you like to learn how to cook?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

"For now, asking."

Varo glanced around the kitchen at all the things it held... all the lovely, shiny, sharp things it held. He looked at Adlar. "Okay, I'd like that."

"Excellent. We'll start first thing tomorrow. I'm too hungry tonight." Adlar checked the meal one last time. "And speaking of the meal, it's ready."

Adlar fetched plates and silverware and put them on the table. Varo waited until Adlar finished serving the meal and sat. As they ate, Varo looked around the kitchen again. Oh yes, he couldn't wait to learn how to cook.