by K. L. Wallen
A short while later, on their way out of the training room, he heard Maxon question just loud enough for him to hear, “So, is it true?” Favian knew what he was referring to and growled back in the ancient language, just loud enough for Maxon to hear, “She’s mine.” He knew the other warriors would be talking about how possessive he is and didn’t care. If they had Stacy on their arm, they’d be just as possessive, he thought.
Stacy was pleased when he delivered her home to gather a few more clothes. Tyce had shown her the clothes replicator and told her she could make her own, but Stacy’s attempts were disastrous, if not out-n-out laughable.
She packed a light suitcase. “When will I be able to return for the rest of my belongings?” Stacy packed a few extra outfits when told it might be several days until he had the warriors available to retrieve her items. She hadn’t had a chance to play with the replicator that Favian showed her yet, and didn’t want to discover that it couldn’t produce what she needed.
*.*
Commander Gharm rose and flashed a caring smile when Favian entered the bridge conference room with Stacy in hand. “Dr. Randall, thank you for joining us.” Dorn and several other warriors placed their data pads on the table. They first set their data pads to monitor certain functions on the bridge since the entire crew attended the meeting.
Stacy sat where Favian indicated, next to him. She unconsciously placed her hand on his thigh. This natural action didn’t escape the notice of warriors Tyce Owynn, Varun Osiri, Blaize Pulten, Adal Lucia, Obard Bylt, Rort Chipil, or any of the other warriors, with the exception of Ivanoff Chipil who witnessed such affectionate displays during his time with the honored guests the Scorpak brothers gathered.
“Please call me Stacy.” She looked around the table and modified her response, “I’d like it if all of you called me Stacy.” She smiled when she heard one warrior after another say her name in recognition.
When they were done, she turned her attention to the Commander. “How may I help you?”
Dorn appreciated her directness. “We could use your advice. Your culture is confusing.” He noticed she was chewing on her bottom lip at the same time as a smile was threatening to explode. “We are tasked with seeking, besides a human who specializes in stem cell research, honored guests who are gifted.”
“Gifted?” Stacy asked with confusion lacing her tone. She wasn’t sure how the aliens defined the word. “Will you please explain?” It wasn’t long into Dorn’s explanation that Stacy fully understood.
“I do not have any experience in these areas, but I’ll be happy to offer insight and help insofar as I’m able to do so,” Stacy blew out a breath and mentally acknowledged that she hadn’t been prepared for this. She put on her game face and hoped that she was pulling it off as she assured them she could be of some help. Stacy really did want to be of assistance. She then waited for the first question, which was quick to come from Warrior-Technician Obard Bylt.
“Stacy, how do humans wrestle ghosts? We watched one of your movies, Ghostbusters. We understand that the ghosts in that video are fictional, but the equipment they used, is that also fictional? We have not been able to locate devices that resemble those proton packs used in the video.” He had been assigned this task by Warrior Blaize Pulten.
Stacy held in the laugh that nearly erupted when she saw that Obard was serious. “Fictional. However, I understand that paranormal investigators do have equipment that will tell you if a ghost is present. It has to do with the amount of energy the apparition exudes. So far as I know, nobody has successfully captured a ghost, other than on a camera.” She watched him nod his head in appreciation.
“Stacy?” Warrior Blaize called her name.
“Yes?”
“Is there a way to expel ghosts? To get rid of them for good or something that will make them not appear?” Blaize was thinking about the tango he lost with the entity in Gabriella’s home. The ghost, or ancient one, who blocked the door and wouldn’t allow him to pass.
Stacy felt Favian’s hand rest atop hers. “Give me a second while I think. There’s,” she turned her hand so they were able to lace fingers, “rocks.” Stacy smiled at Blaize. “Yes, there are reputed to be certain stones which deflect negative energy. I suppose a ghost could count as negative energy. Whether or not these work, I honestly couldn’t tell you. I’ve never had a reason to try them out. Then there are exorcisms that the Catholic Church does, but I think that’s for demons more so than ghosts. I could be wrong. I’m not Catholic so I’m at a disadvantage here.”
“What kind of rocks?” Blaize inquired.
“Not sure. It would be an easy search. I could help you with the search if you like,” she offered.
Varun took the opportunity to speak up, “What keywords would you use?”
Stacy answered, “Paranormal, stones, negative energy. Yes, I’d start with that, and see what turns up and go from there. Perhaps even type in ghosts and deflection, or ghosts and stones?”
Ivanoff recalled, “Kodiak and Olivia wore stones. I asked Olivia once what significance they held and she told me that her bracelet matched Kodiaks’. I assumed it was only sentimental value, but thinking about it now, I recall Kodiak talking about protection with Olivia and Samantha one day when I entered the cafeteria while he was touching his necklace. I thought it odd at the time but didn’t pursue questioning him. He did tell me later on when I commented about his necklace, that it has turquoise, black odsissian, and some other stones. He called it a powerhouse.”
“That would be black obsidian,” Stacy corrected. “Sounds like you have a start. Are there other questions?”
Tyce decided that this would be a good time. “Yes. This is about my potential honored guests. The female’s name is Carlie and her younger brother is Justin. They are able to tell you things when they touch an object.” He paused and answered the prominent murmur, that both of them are capable and not one over the other.
“Stacy,” Tyce began again, “I don’t know how to make contact. I’ve tried but the youngling, Justin, won’t allow me near his older sister. How do I convince him that I will not harm her or take her away from him? He is dependent on her for his wellbeing.”
When Stacy asked him how old Justin is, he replied and waited.
“Fifteen,” she repeated. “He’s still a minor. What of their parents? Are they still alive? Are there no other relatives?” Stacy asked.
“Their parents are deceased. Their closest relatives are five states away. I assume Carlie wants nothing to do with these people since she hasn’t taken Justin and moved to where they are.”
Stacy sent a sympathetic look Tyce’s way. “Would you like me to go with you to talk to them? Perhaps if I’m there, the young man will be willing to listen.” Stacy brightened up when Dorn accepted her offer and told Tyce to make arrangements. She was glad to be of help.
Dorn signed to Favian to take Stacy elsewhere, then followed it up with an acknowledgment of her help. “Stacy, we hope that you will continue to assist us as we locate other potential honored guests with special abilities. Your insight, as well as help from the MacKenna’s, will make this mission easier.”
Stacy knew she was being dismissed and didn’t have a problem with it. She figured the Commander had other issues to deal with that were of no concern to her, unless the ship was at risk of being destroyed. She shook her head at her wayward thoughts and stood. “It is my pleasure. Please feel free to come to me for help anytime. I’m looking forward to spending time with the MacKennas next time they board.” Before she left the room, she stopped and asked, “Would this be the MacKenna family, the one whose daughters were reported missing? Cousins. The girls are first cousins.” She hadn’t made the connection earlier when she spoke with Favian.
“Yes. Their names are Laurel and Moira. You will have the opportunity to meet their parents. And Stacy,” Dorn waited until he had her full attention, “they do not know you are a stem cell researcher or that we have a problem and need your
area of expertise.”
“If they google me, they’ll know exactly what I do. It will take all of 20 seconds for them to find out. What am I to tell them if they ask me?”
Dorn hadn’t realized it would be so simple for citizens to gather information on another. “Then go ahead and tell them what you do. Just don’t mention Privok’s gene manipulation. I don’t want them to worry.”
Stacy gave this a moment’s thought and interjected, “I know, if they ask, I’ll tell them that my area of expertise might help some of your injured warriors. Would that be alright?” She grinned when Dorn let out a sigh of relief and approved.
Chapter 8
“We have video of Kodiak’s daughter going into a place of business called Hubba-Hubba-Hunk,” Varun addressed Blaize at the same time as he was transferring the video feed onto the front view screen, which was taken off the monitoring device that Blaize installed on Detective Lance Crawford’s car.
Ivanoff was working the other technical station and informed Blaize, “Here. I’ve pulled up information on the business. This is interesting,” he trailed off as he clicked on the page showing who was performing this evening. There were eight extremely buff men featured, many of whom had physiques similar to a Pzianian warrior.
Blaize wanted to roar but held his temper. “Ivanoff!” he bellowed without reason since Ivanoff was but a few steps away. “Are these mostly naked males advertising for breeding?” When Ivanoff stated that he had not seen anything like this before, Blaize com’d the Commander and asked for permission to transport down. “Varun, Ivanoff, isn’t there monitoring equipment in there you can access?” Blaize was irritably pacing.
“We’re trying to tap into it now,” replied Varun. “What did the Commander say? Here, I’ve got feed.” Varun sent the video monitor to the bridge view screen.
“There are a lot of females in there,” Ivanoff offhandedly remarked. “There,” he left his post and walked up to the view screen and pointed, “Kodiak’s daughter.” He looked at the rest of the screen before adding, “If these males are advertising, one of them, if not all, will want Kodiak’s daughter.”
“Commander,” Blaize all but roared when Dorn stepped out of the lift. “Look at these bagallards! They want Gabriella!” Blaize waved wildly at the front screen.
Tyce walked closer to the screen and studied how the human male was enticing these females by removing his clothes. “This must be an example of a striptease dance, like what is in the instructional manuals Honored Guest Laurel MacKenna left for us.”
His words trailed off as he added, “This is what my female, Carlie, wanted me to do for her at the fairgrounds. Oh,” he unconsciously slowly nodded his head several times as he reasoned out Carlie’s expectations. Tyce silently acknowledge that there was nothing the human male was doing that he couldn’t do himself, he just needed the right tempo. “Varun, can you upload the music?”
“She’s approaching one of them,” Varun started. He was so absorbed in watching the screen that he failed to hear Tyce’s request. “Hmm. No, she’s walking past him. Wait, he’s trying to convince her to return. Huh. This is an interesting way to offer a breeding contract. Do humans enter into contracts like we do? Look, he’s removing more of his clothing. No, she’s still decided against him. Other women want him. He looks disappointed. Maybe he’ll try again to gain her attention.” His running commentary was interrupted by an irate security officer.
“Bagallard!” Blaize shouted.
Dorn watched the screen with the others and pointedly told Blaize, “She’s not in any danger. We’ll just watch for now. There’s no need to transport down and run the risk of exposing yourself. Blaize, we will take the MacKenna’s advice and send you down as a client. Varun, have you and Ivanoff completed his credentials?” Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Blaize standing there with his hands on his hips and a look of outrage. Judging by his posture, the Commander didn’t doubt Blaize would let his fists fly into the face of every male in that establishment. “Blaize, if she goes with any of the males, I will send Ivanoff to intervene. I cannot jeopardize the success of your upcoming meeting with her.”
Varun stood next to Dorn. “Yes, we have all of the details worked out in the Earth computer systems. Blaize is set up to meet with Ms. Powers as a client. Look, she’s made her way to the back of the establishment.”
“Isn’t there audio back there? I want to know what this other bagallard is asking her,” Blaize demanded.
Ivanoff responded, “No audio is available in the back or outside. She’s rejected this one too. Ms. Powers is exiting the building.”
Varun returned to his workstation and pulled up all of the exterior camera feeds. “There,” he pointed out, “she’s circling back to the front.” He and the others watched as Gabriella moved from one camera position to another in her quest to avoid the detective and reach her vehicle. “She’s stopped.”
“She’s watching the detective,” Blaize interjected. They watched as the detective handed something to the man at the door and walked in, and then as Gabriella ran to her vehicle. “It’s good she left, but where is she going? Varun, can you follow her?”
“I can try. Earth satellites leave a lot to be desired in the sunless hours.”
Commander Gharm watched as Gabriella’s car was lost during one of her many turns. He and the other warriors were scanning the area for sight of her vehicle. “Varun, move the satellite so we can get more of a northeast view captured,” he ordered and then began scanning again. “There. Concentrate on that area. Just beyond the canopy of trees. Now pan out so we get a few more blocks. Let’s see what she’s after.”
Varun widened the scope of the satellite just enough to cover the area indicated by his commander. When he spotted Gabriella move away from the back of her transport, he narrowed in. About a hundred feet ahead was a darkened, slender, area that did not appear to be accessible by transport. The area was dimly lit by the lights filtering from the windows higher up on either side of the alley.
“Right there,” Blaize pointed. “There’s a group in that alleyway. She’s left her transport and is heading towards them on foot. Varun, zoom in. Commander?”
“Get a transporter. One for me also. Varun get us the coordinates. Blaize, she cannot see us. Understood?” Dorn was issuing orders.
“Understood.” Blaize accepted the transporter and monitor, and clipped them to his vest at the same time as the Commander. “Transport,” he ordered.
*.*
“You take me out to the nicest places, Nayen,” Gabriella smirked as she opened her trunk and began loading up on her women’s lib arsenal. She closed the lid and checked the direction of the slight breeze. Gabriella had her pepper spray ready and didn’t want to be in a position for blowback once she dispensed it. Given the area of town Nayen took her to, pepper spray, stun gun, and brass knuckles were her weapons of choice.
Gabriella sucked in a breath when she neared the corner and heard the commotion. Some poor kid was getting his clock cleaned all right. She peeked around the corner and saw that it was six-on-one. “He must be important. I’m gonna need help,” she both whispered and prayed.
“There you are!” She exclaimed as she stepped into the alleyway. “Mom’s looking for you. Enough playtime. Let’s go home. Get up off the ground.” Gabriella hoped that her proclamations would buy her enough time to move into a suitable position, and it did.
Like the idiots they were, the gang moved and let her pass so she was now standing next to the fallen adolescent.
“Who the fuck are you?” One of the gang members addressed her.
“I’m his half-sister,” Gabriella answered. “And, I’m here to take him home. He’s had enough.” She stood her ground. Gabriella didn’t reach down to pull the boy up as she was tempted to do, rather she kept her hands in her jacket pockets, ready to pull out her pepper spray and stun gun.
“Who the fuck are you?” mumbled the beaten boy on the ground.
“Your h
alf-sister. Now, see, what ya all did? You made him forget me! Honestly, we have to go home and pluck the feathers out of his head.” Gabriella castigated in her best older sister tone, or what she thought was a fairly good rendition of an older sister voice.
“What the fuck you talkin’ about? You crazy bitch. I’m no chicken,” the boy on the ground forcefully seethed right before he rolled to his side and spit out blood.
Gabriella looked down and replied in her best street voice, “Nah, you the crazy. I’m tryin’ to get ya home, ya idiot. Now listen to ya big sista and get you ass up.”
Several of the gang members were eyeing Gabriella with appreciation. “What’s your name bitch?” one called out.
“Seraphim,” Gabriella replied and lifted her chin in his direction, then turned away, sending a message that she knew she was too good for the likes of him.
“Isn’t that an angel? I remember that from,” the gang member decided to close his mouth before he started talking about the days he spent going to church.
“So what will you give us if we let him go, angel?” asked one of them as he approached Gabriella from the side. “Angiel,” he drawled in what he felt was a seductive voice. He stopped several feet away and gestured for her to come willingly to him, as if she would.
*.*
“She’ll let you live,” Commander Gharm boomed right before he and Blaize, using Pzian speed, plowed down the gang members.
“Huh?” Gabriella spun on her boots, and as blurs shot past her, she sprayed. She had not seen the person who spoke but figured he must be ethereal, given how fast he, no, they, moved. In the blink of an eye, the pair was gone. All she had to remember them by was one deep voice and two blurs. At least she thought there were two of them, thinking about it later, she would question the number.
