Sovran’s Pawn

United by extortion, divided by duty, someone wants them both dead. They want each other. The catch is, nothing is what it seems…

Convicted of treason and sentenced to be executed, Bo Barron is the last person who should be infiltrating a Sub-socia weapons auction. But when her father is kidnapped and the ransom demand is the schematics to an experimental weapon, she has no choice but to go under cover with her uncle to get it.

Nobody counted on former-government-agent-turned-holofeature-hero Blade Devon’s infatuation with her. A botched assassination under the guise of a bar brawl leaves Bo blind and Blade wondering if there isn’t more to this job than he was led to believe.

Never able to resist playing the hero, Blade tends her injuries and delves deeper into the intrigue only to find this mission isn’t about a weapon at all. It’s about two Sovrans’ maneuvering for control, with Bo and Blade as their pawns.

All Bo and Blade have to do is figure out how to survive the game they didn’t know they were playing.

***

CHAPTER ONE

Cormor City, Cormoran, Second Sector

It would almost be worth an execution to have an end to the pointless bickering.

Bo Barron stared out through the transparisteel wall, her gloved hands clasped behind her back as she tried to tune out the heated debate going on behind her. Their angry tones washed over her, rising and falling all around her like the storm-tossed seas of The Narvon’s holdings on her home planet of Mondhuoun. While her Regent, the Chamberlain, and her three advisors discussed the legal ramifications of escape, prison breaks, and appeals, Bo absently studied the domes and spires of Cormoran’s skyline. In the distance, silhouettes of wedge and cylindrical shaped craft dropped out of the dingy gray sky, only for others to lift off from the spaceport and disappear into the tan clouds.

They would come to their decisions without her input. They always did. She was tired – tired of the debates, tired of defending herself, tired of being forcibly grounded against her will.

Without trying, Bo could imagine the rumble of engines vibrating through her; feel the pressure of a sudden increase in pulled gees as the ship maneuvered under her deft hands. Her hands flexed and clenched. She nearly groaned with pleasure at the memory. Grounded for a full season during the trial, the fever for space flight burned hotter every moment she was planet bound. The surest way to kill a Barron was to ground one anywhere but Mondhuoun.

“What do you think, Barron?” The Chamberlain’s question broke into her thoughts.

Barron. The corners of her mouth twitched. It was a title as much as her name and one she still wasn’t accustomed to. Her father, Bhruic, was The Barron, but he’d placed himself in medical stasis the year she’d entered Barron Academy. This year, she would attain her legal majority. This year, she would formally and legally take on all the responsibilities of her title. As the anniversary of her birth approached, Bo found less reason to celebrate. At the moment, it looked doubtful she would live to take her place as the leader of her people.

“I think that if I don’t get back into space soon, I’ll go mad.” She said, replying in Gallic, her native tongue.

“You won’t go mad, Bo.” Galen Barron, Mondhuoun’s Regent and her father’s cousin assured her. “They’re likely to execute you before you get the chance.”

***

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