The Alliance Boxset 2

by S. E. Smith

  “Are you finished?” Prymorus asked in a dry tone.

  “Hardly. What has happened to my ship?” Katma demanded, stepping over the dead body of the guard.

  The other guards quickly moved to the side when Katma exited the cell. Prymorus made sure to keep his hot-tempered mate slightly ahead of him. He slipped the blade he had hidden back into the sheath in his sleeve.

  “Can you find it?” he demanded.

  Katma suddenly turned and faced him. Her eyes glittered with fury. She stepped up to him and grabbed the front of his shirt in her hand. The knife that he had returned to the sheath just seconds before once again slipped into his hand.

  She looked at him with an expression that was fierce and filled with passion, skimmed her fingers down his arm, then gripped his hand, keeping it and the knife firmly pressed against his side. Prymorus closed the distance between them, pressing his lips against hers in a savage kiss.

  “Who took my ship?” she repeated in a breathy voice against his lips.

  “A Trivator and a human,” he answered. “I want them alive.”

  “I want a warship under my command,” she requested.

  “You will have it,” Prymorus agreed.

  Katma smiled. “I pick my crew,” she added. Prymorus nodded. “And the weapons I want added.”

  “You can have whatever you want, Katma. I want them alive. I don’t care what you do to them as long as you bring them back to me breathing and able to talk,” Prymorus stated.

  “Anything….” Katma’s fingers walked down Prymorus’s chest to his groin. “I’ve been in solitary confinement for three years. I’ll be wanting a little compensation for having to take care of my own needs,” she replied, cupping him and squeezing. “You can begin payment while my warship is prepared.”

  A large vein throbbed at Prymorus’s temple. Katma was a liability, but she was also an asset. He would use her talents to retrieve the Trivator, then he would either lock her up again or dispose of her once and for all. She would kill him if she learned he was the one responsible for her incarceration.

  Katma had killed the son of one of the Drethulan warlords over a minor credit dispute. Prymorus had been in negotiations with the Drethulans long before the incident, and he had known that he could lose their army if his volatile mate was involved in the process.

  Prymorus was struck with a brief flash of regret that he had killed his half-brother. While he was the one who had ordered Katma’s imprisonment, it had been Deppar who had carried out the act in his absence. The regret faded as quickly as it appeared when Katma released him.

  “How is Deppar?” Katma asked with a coy smile.

  “Dead,” he replied.

  The smile faded, and an expression of disappointment crossed her face. “A pity. I was looking forward to killing him myself,” she casually replied before turning and walking down the corridor.

  “I’m sure you were,” Prymorus stated under his breath.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “Do you need any help?” Lina asked.

  Edge pulled off the welder’s mask and set it down on the floor. He gazed at her tired face. She was carrying a tray holding a large plate of food and a container of water.

  “I wanted to make sure there was no chance that the door would rupture. Sit with me,” he said, taking the tray from her and nodding to the floor. “I fear I have no chair or table.”

  Lina chuckled. She lowered herself to the floor and leaned against the wall. He saw her take note of the items scattered across the floor.

  “I recognize some of this stuff,” she commented, nodding to the rectangular device.

  “The storage bay is full of items,” he commented, sitting down next to her. “I assume you and the others brought most of it aboard.”

  Lina nodded her head before leaning back against the wall. She closed her eyes. A small smile played around the corners of her lips.

  “Yes. Two years is a long time to spend doing nothing but hiding. After the first month, we decided we’d better do something, so we started collecting things. By the time we found the underground hiding place, we’d pack-ratted enough to know what was useful and what wasn’t. The area underground was like having our own private treasure cave. Once Mirela and Andy found the ship, we decided we’d need to be ready to go the moment we found someone who could fly it,” she explained, opening her eyes and sitting forward.

  “Did you do this on your world? This pack-rat thing?” Edge asked.

  Lina nodded. “Yeah. Finding and hoarding items of use became not just an art, but a necessity for survival. Before the Trivators arrived, we were ordinary women with ordinary dreams,” she quietly said, looking down at her hands. “It turned out we all had a talent that when combined, worked out for us. Bailey was a Physician’s Assistant. She had just landed her first job at Chicago General. Andy was a mechanic at a service distribution center. There wasn’t much that she couldn’t fix when it came to engines. Mirela and Mechelle are as different in personalities as they are alike in their looks.” Lina chuckled and shook her head. “Mirela is in-your-face tough as nails while Mechelle is the complete opposite.”

  “I have noticed that. I find it fascinating,” he commented, taking a bite of the stew. “What did they do before our arrival?”

  Lina looked at him. “Mirela worked at a local hotel during the day and competed in regular Kickboxing matches at night. I wouldn’t make her mad if I were you. She is pretty fierce. She taught us all a lot of new moves which have come in handy. Mechelle was focusing on her education. She was a programmer for a local video game company during the day and an aspiring actress at night. She was the one who gave us the ability to move around without being discovered. Her talent for making costumes is brilliant,” Lina said.

  “What about Gail? She is older than the rest of you,” he observed.

  “Not by much. I’m twenty-seven, the twins are twenty-six, Andy is thirty, and Bailey is thirty-one. Gail is forty-three. Her second husband was killed during the first wave of resistance. Both of them were veteran police officers with the Chicago Police Department,” she explained. “Gail took me under her wing a year after the Trivators arrived.”

  Edge placed the tray aside. He didn’t miss the fact that she avoided talking about herself. He could sense the wall around her again, the one that she erected when she wanted to protect herself.

  “And you…. What is the story of Lina Daniels?” he quietly asked.

  Lina stared across at the opposite wall in silence. She finally shook her head and rose to her feet. Bending over, she picked up the tray.

  “Lina,” Edge said, rising to his feet.

  He reached out his hand and touched her arm. He was surprised when she looked up at him with tears in her eyes. This was not a part of her that he had seen before.

  “I’m just a kid from the streets,” she quietly replied, before she turned and walked away.

  Edge watched her retreat. He started to follow her, but paused when he heard someone softly call his name. He didn’t turn until Lina disappeared around the corner.

  “She isn’t just a kid from the streets,” Gail quietly said, coming to stand next to him.

  “What is her story, then?” he asked, turning to gaze at the older woman.

  Gail shook her head. “If she wants you to know, she’ll have to be the one to tell you,” she replied.

  “Do you blame us for your mate’s death?” he asked.

  Gail’s lips tightened and her face became shuttered. “Yes and no,” she finally replied, lowering her eyes to look around the corridor. “I could play the what-if game. God knows I’ve done that enough in my head, but it still comes out with the same results. Guy is dead, and I’m on an alien ship in a world that exists no matter how many times I pinch myself and try to wake up. I can’t change what happened, Edge. I can only change what I do about what is to come. Lina still has to figure out that part.”

  He wanted to ask Gail more, but the older woman shook
her head and walked away. He was left with more questions than answers.

  Sighing deeply, he turned and began picking up the equipment he’d used to make sure the door was sealed. He paused when he saw his hands tremble. He looked at the welder and grimaced when he saw it was covered with insects.

  An hour later, he stepped into the medical unit. Andy was on the bridge with Gail. They would be coming out of jump speed in another twenty minutes. The scanners were showing that there were two fighters following them.

  “How is she?” he asked Bailey as he stepped into the room and nodded toward the surgical table.

  Bailey glanced up from studying Mirela’s chart. “Stable,” she replied. “A fragment clipped her aorta. Her clavicle and shoulder blade were shattered, and she had fragments of metal in her left arm, side, and leg. All in all, she’s lucky to be alive. This machine has dissolved the bone fragments and is recreating bones from a synthetic material as well as mending the surrounding damaged tissue. It is un-fucking-believable! I wish we had this in the ER at Chicago General.”

  “There could be one there now,” he replied. “Advanced medical technology and training are part of the protocol for all new planets joining the Alliance.”

  Bailey gave him a wry grin. “Yeah, well, they have to put Chicago back together first. I don’t know if you’ve ever been there, but there’s this huge-ass wall down the center of it with a lot of fighting on each side,” she said.

  Edge frowned and nodded. “I was there. I have seen the wall. It would not last long. Razor, the Trivator Chancellor for the Alliance, would either settle the conflict or order the leveling of the city,” he replied.

  “Oh sure, just level the city,” Bailey muttered resentfully, setting down the chart. “Did you have another episode?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he replied in a curt voice.

  Bailey motioned for him to sit down on the chair. She stepped closer and pulled a thin penlight out of her pocket. She turned it on and tilted back his head.

  “How bad?” she asked.

  “Bad enough,” he replied.

  Bailey shook her head at him in exasperation. “That tells me a lot,” she muttered.

  “Do you have the results of the scan?” he asked, straightening when she pulled back.

  A delicate flush rose to her cheeks. “I honestly forgot to check,” she admitted.

  He nodded and glanced at Mirela’s peaceful face behind the glass enclosure. Between the escape, the fight, and Mirela’s grievous injuries, he understood. He watched as she quickly tapped in a command on the tablet in her hand. She frowned as she studied the reports.

  “What is it?” he asked, rising to his feet to look over her shoulder.

  “I’m still learning your language, and medical terminology is always a bitch. I look mostly at the charts and diagrams to help interpret what the words might mean. I just don’t understand this or the chemical structure of the drug,” she said.

  He reached over and took the tablet from her, the frown on his brow growing deeper and darker. His knuckles turned white as he read through the report.

  “It is a synthetic drug using nanotechnology. The drug continues to replicate itself, supplying me with a continuous source of the chemical in my bloodstream. Deppar frequently increased the dosage until my body could no longer kill or dilute it, thus prolonging the pain while he tried to get whatever information he could out of me. He would have needed to administer small amounts of the antidote to slow the process enough to prevent my death,” he said, his stomach clenching as the meaning sank in. “It will always be inside me unless we can find a way to stop it.”

  “But… Your symptoms have lessened,” Bailey said, pulling the chart out of his hand and looking at it.

  “Yes, for the moment. My body has adapted to the amount that was given to me and my immune system is fighting it. We need to run another scan. If it is what I think it is, then the number will increase until….” his voice faded.

  Understanding dawned in Bailey’s eyes. “Until you die of an overdose,” she whispered, her eyes wide with horror.

  “Yes,” he responded.

  “Edge….” Bailey laid her hand on his arm.

  He took a deep breath. “I would like to keep this private. I will do everything I can to get you and the others to Rathon. The chemical has slowly been replicating over the last few weeks, but as the amount increases, it will accelerate replication. I don’t….” he paused and swallowed.

  “Patient confidentiality is part of a medical professional’s job. I’ll continue to research the compound and see if there is any way to reverse it. There has to be a way to synthesize that antidote,” she stated with confidence.

  “Thank you,” he replied, turning away.

  “Lina would still love you, Edge. It helps if you have someone you can talk to. I’ll be here, but Lina has a right to know,” Bailey murmured.

  He bowed his head before lifting it with determination. “Thank you, Bailey. I will take your words into consideration,” he said before he exited the medical bay.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Nebula One:

  Jag strode onto the bridge. His piercing glance scanned the room. Thunder and Vice were standing near the communications officer, quietly talking. They both looked up when he entered the room.

  “Two down, the last is along the outer rim. Was Jordan able to determine if it was a ship?” Vice asked.

  “Yes. How long until we reach it?” Jag asked, wanting to verify the time he already estimated.

  “We will reach the vessel in five hours, thirty-two minutes, six seconds,” the navigator replied.

  “Thunder, Vice, my office,” Jag ordered, turning on his heel.

  Thunder glanced at Vice with a raised eyebrow before he shrugged and followed Jag into the Captain’s room off the bridge. Vice followed behind him. When they paused at the door, Jag motioned for both men to have a seat at a small conference table in the middle of the room. He walked over and poured three drinks. Turning, he walked back to the table and placed a drink in front of both men before sitting down across from them.

  “What is it?” they both asked at the same time.

  Jag stared at the dark green liquid in his glass before he lifted it to his lips and drank it in one swig. He placed the glass on the table and leaned forward. With a flick of his wrist, he activated the computer screen. The soft green glow from the image of a small ship floated above the table, this time in full three-dimensional form. Data ran along the side of the image.

  “Nice! I didn’t know the Waxians made ships like that,” Vice commented.

  “They don’t. This one was reported stolen from a Kassisan development center ten years ago. The outer section has been modified, but the guts of the ship are anything but Waxian,” Jag replied.

  Thunder frowned. “How do you know that it is a Kassisan ship?” he asked.

  Jag looked toward the shadows behind them. They both turned and started when they saw the figure of a man standing near the window looking out into space. The man turned when he felt the eyes of the other men on him.

  “This is Dakar,” Jag briefly introduced.

  Thunder raised an eyebrow. “When did a Kassisan become part of the crew?” he asked.

  “It was in the fine print that came with the cloaking devices we sent,” Dakar replied in a light tone.

  “Why the hiding?” Vice asked with a raised eyebrow.

  Dakar chuckled and stepped out of the shadows. Jag watched the other man warily as he walked across to the bar and refilled the glass in his hand. He tightened his jaw when the Kassisan studied the screen before he looked at them.

  “Kassisans don’t typically hide. We prefer to observe from the shadows until we have a clear understanding of the situation—most of the time,” he added, lifting his glass to Vice.

  “Riiiight,” Thunder said dubiously. “So, why is he here?” he asked.

  Jag looked at Thunder in warning. “The fine print,” he replied
with a hard edge to his voice.

  Jag watched as Dakar glanced down at his drink and sighed before he swung one of the chairs around and sat down. He pointed to the screen. Jag returned his attention to the images floating above the table.

  “Unbeknownst to us at the time, we had a traitor working with another alien species to overthrow the leadership of our world. The fallout and repercussions of Tai Tek’s treachery is still being felt. He was working with a group of rogue Tearnats, a species who was once our enemy, but has since become our ally. During that time, Tai Tek and Commander Trolis of the renegade Tearnats stole a prototype ship from us and sold it to an unknown species,” Dakar shared.

  “The Waxians,” Thunder and Vice said at the same time.

  “Actually, no.... But, it was recently brought to our attention that a Waxian stole the ship after killing the previous owner. We were able to trace the ship to Oculus IX, but it disappeared three years ago. Since then, the Kassisan star system has joined the Alliance, and we discovered a few other areas of concern that related to the Waxians and the Drethulans,” Dakar explained.

  “Concerns?” Thunder asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “The incident on Dises V has caused us all great concern. The ore they are mining can be made into an unusually strong, yet lightweight alloy. If combined with a unique energy source and the right technology, weapons and ships could be made that would have a devastating effect in the hands of the wrong people,” Dakar said.

  “What unique energy source?” Vice asked, sitting forward.

  Dakar glanced at Jag before he shrugged. “I’m not at liberty to say,” he replied.

  “Do you trust him?” Vice asked, turning to look at Jag.

  Jag’s mouth tightened. “Let’s just say I’m monitoring the situation,” he replied.

  Dakar was the first one to start chuckling. Soon, Thunder and Vice joined in. Jag finally allowed a hint of a smile to show on his lips before he leaned forward in his chair.