Read The Alpha Prime Commander for Free Online

her, he was out of luck; his
range did not slip past the parameters of The Collector’s suite, which
incidentally was twice the size of his, and looked even less lived in.
    His understanding was
that The Collector had been staying here for some time, which was why everyone
was here rather than on a heavily fortified Alliance flagship somewhere closer
to middle ground.  However, while it was obviously supposed to look like
someone had taken residence, a few trinkets here and there, a discarded coat
over a chair, the air around him was almost void of scent trails.  He could
scent the same cleaning staff worked this room as his own, but that was it. 
The Collector had never even been in this room, that stench he would have
recognized.  Someone was playing games of the lying kind, but for what purpose?
    Not that he let any of
this show on his face or body; he could hear the hum of electronics, but even
if he couldn’t, he would know he was being watched, and that he would be
waiting for quite some time.  Lo slid elegantly into a seat and surveyed the
place one final time before slipping into the still hunt of the Prime.  Whoever
was watching them would have nothing to report but him sitting with no
expression on his face.  He did not like to wait, but lying in wait during a
hunt, that he could do without a single sound or movement for a full station
rotation if need be.  The Collector wished to play his games?  The Prime
excelled at them.  They would see who broke first.
    ***
    Jackson was pacing his
hated ready room.  The auction was still six station hours away and his men had
in the last hour alone thwarted three new robbery attempts.  As far as he could
detect, no word of what The Collector was auctioning off had been leaked, so
only the high house leaders who had been invited and himself knew what they were
guarding.  His command didn’t even know.  Their sole reason for the Alliance
wading in at all was to see peace kept at all costs; at least that was the
horseshit reason they had given him, when he asked why they were working for
The Collector.  The only reason he knew about the immortal stone was because he
hunted down The Collector on the first day and demanded to know what his men
were going to be dying for, or else he walked and they could find another dumb
fuck to play guard dog. 
    The Collector looked down
at him from his lofty height for the longest time, his black eyes shadowed
beneath the ridiculous cape he always wore.  Then he told Jackson what he was
guarding. 
    Jackson had no problem
swearing secrecy.  When he understood what he was guarding he knew he was
fucked, but he kept his mouth shut and tripled rotations.  When asked by
anyone, command or otherwise, he denied like a son of a bitch any knowledge. 
Being human himself, he understood the drive to have such a stone could be
toxic.  Good men would want it to prolong the life and health of their loved ones,
bad men would want the power it represented, and nobody liked how very
vulnerable most of us were to time, disease, and death.  Never mind that no one
could definitively say who would survive the painful prolonged torture of the
transformation.  Or if anyone ever did.
    He turned to his comp
station and pulled up the information that came in from the last time he
checked.  He was just narrowing his eyes at a sensor malfunction in 256 Star
Suite B when a small whisper, more instinct than sound, had him looking
behind him.  Nothing was there, but something drew his eye up and he saw that
the oxygen dispenser was the tiniest bit off-center.  He reached for the sword
at his back and found the fucking thing wasn’t there.  He whirled around,
looking everywhere, hitting the com at his waist.  All he got was an empty room
and static.  Someone had nulled communications. 
    What the fuck?!  His
eyes taking in the empty room, he reached for the knife on his belt, nothing in
the holster.  How the fuck did they manage to take my damn