They stared at each other, the silence heavily-laden with unspoken questions and uneasiness.
They both looked away at the same second and stared at the space on the other side of the space shield.
The silence wasn't comfortable any more.
It was a relief when the scanner blipped suddenly, and Shaque looked at it. Straightening abruptly, he tapped the coordinates into the control panel in the corner of the screen. The blip came again, small print beneath it.
"Slave ship,” he said.
"Ten minutes from here.” Elyse frowned. “Why didn't it scan earlier?"
"Maybe your scanner needs an overhaul."
"It was fine yesterday. I'll run the analysis scan on it again later.” She keyed in the coordinates of the slave ship into the flight controls. “Let's move."
It was a relief to push troublesome thoughts away and concentrate instead on the issue at hand.
While Elyse flew the ship towards the slave ship, Shaque did a radar scan for any ships in the vicinity, but the closest was three hours away. The slave ship was in a deserted area of the Sector.
He tried to establish contact with the slave ship over the viscomm, but there was no answer. He saw why when they came into range.
"That doesn't look good,” Elyse said.
He did a scan for living people, but the screen came up blank. “Dead or taken or both. No one left alive."
Drifting slowly without navigation, a small drift of smoke coming from the back regions, the slave ship was a ruin. As Elyse brought her ship around to the other side, Shaque saw the gaping hole where the cargo hold door used to be.
"Space pirates or outlaws,” Elyse announced. “After the cargo."
"Slaves.” Anger burned in the pit of Shaque's stomach. The girl might have been his niece, and if she'd been taken by space pirates or outlaws, she'd be either dead or severely traumatized now—if she hadn't been already.
"Still worth money, either way. The slaver put up a fight, you can tell from the burned out laser guns and the wreckage of the engine compartment.” Elyse studied the wreck as she negotiated around it. “It was well armed, and the slaver would be aware of the worth of his human cargo. He didn't go down without a fight."
"But go down he did,” Shaque said grimly. “The girl could be dead or taken. Most likely taken."
"We need to investigate, see if there's any sign or information in case she was sold prior to this.” Elyse nodded towards the emergency exit. “I'll attach the tunnel there. We go in, do a search. Try to get what information we can."
Shaque pushed to his feet. “The attackers would have destroyed information."
"Not in this Sector. No need unless they want something in particular.” Elyse flicked switches and veered her ship alongside the slave ship. “Tunnel connecting in two minutes. Arm up. I'll meet you in the cargo hold."
Even though no living person registered on the scanner, Elyse and Shaque carried lasers at the ready as they entered the ship and cautiously made their way through every floor.
Dead slavers littered both floors. The cells were empty. They made their way to the control cabin, and Elyse pushed a dead body off the chair in front of the viscomm and sat down.
Shaque leaned over her shoulder as she did a quick search for slave profiles. The girl's face came up, and he frowned. “She is reported as having being taken. It doesn't say who by or when."
"Which is odd?” Elyse pointed to a list of profiles. “All these slaves have their new owners basic details entered into the data banks. But the girl doesn't."
Shaque studied the girl, unable to see a family resemblance, but that didn't mean she wasn't his niece. “What's her name?"
"Tahlia."
The same name Nerissa had called her doll. Shaque remembered teasing her about the name as a little boy, and instead of crying, Nerissa had bloodied his nose with her little fist. He'd gone home bawling to his mother, only to be told it served him right.
Was it coincidence that this child was called Tahlia? Was she truly his niece? And would she have any information that could help Elyse?
Elyse didn't betray any of her thoughts. As always, she was calm, thinking, piecing things together in her head. If anyone would have any idea what could be the next step in the Outlaw Sector, Elyse would know. So Shaque waited in silence.
Suddenly Elyse lifted her head sharply. Turning quickly in the chair, she looked around. A growl trickled from her lips, and red flowed into her eyes.
Immediately Shaque drew the laser from the holster, the whine of it loud in the cabin. “What is it?” He made to step in front of her as he faced the door, but she pushed him aside.
"Something's here.” She looked at him fleetingly. “Stay back!"
Like hell. Activating the scanning system on the communicator on his jacket, Shaque frowned as the scanner onboard Elyse's ship revealed nothing. “Elyse, what do you feel? Nothing is registering."
"The cold. I can smell him.” Dropping to one knee, one hand stretched out to the floor, she tilted her head back and inhaled. “Rot. Sulphur.” Her head snapped back down so she looked directly at the door, her eyes glowing. Lips pulled back, she snarled. “They're here!"
"And so we are, my dear.” The voice came from the corridor outside. “Very impressive."
Drawing the second laser, Shaque came up to stand beside Elyse, his gaze on the door. Somehow, someone had entered the wreck, bypassing all scanners on Elyse's ship. It was impossible, but it had happened.
Intent now on covering Elyse, working in tandem with her, Shaque ensured he wasn't in her way, but could back her up instantly.
The door to the cabin slid shut suddenly, sealing them in. A white gas started to pour in through minute holes in the ceiling.
As one Elyse and Shaque sprang for the door. Shaque fired his laser at the panel by the door but it didn't release the mechanism locking it.
Elyse kicked out, putting a dent in the metal. Letting a roar, she slammed her shoulder in the door, causing another dent.
A voice out in the corridor swore, then a calmer voice gave orders.
The gas came in faster, thicker, filling the cabin with an odourless white substance.
"Down!” Shaque grabbed Elyse. “Onto the floor!"
Grabbing his jacket, he pressed it over his mouth and nose, watching Elyse do the same. Her eyes gleamed savagely, and she gripped his hand tightly. He gave her hand a squeeze back.
Searching the floor, they could find no way to open the door, and then they couldn't see the floor anymore. Nothing but white, and it came between them, cutting off their view of each other, except for her eyes which glowed eerily through the whiteness.
He felt it gradually, dizziness, and he tried to hold his breath as the gas seeped through his jacket and entered his lungs. He held his breath until black spots danced before his eyes. Consciousness started to recede, and desperately he hung onto Elyse's hand, not wanting her to face alone whatever danger was waiting in the corridor.
Blackness overtook him, and his eyes closed even as he struggled against it. He heard Elyse's breathing slow, and then from a distance came the voices. They sounded clearer.
"Don't remove your masks until we're off this wreck,” a voice ordered. “Collect Elyse and the hunter. Move it."
A low growl sounded to Shaque's left, but he couldn't do anything. All he could do was lie there in an almost stupor and listen as Elyse roared, felt her release his hand and spring away.
No! No Elyse!
There came a man's scream, swearing, and the sound of laser fire. Orders cutting through the confusion. Elyse's roaring, a body hitting the wall.
"Get her down! Get her down!"
"She's got Haim!"
"Fire at will!"
No! No! My God, no, Elyse! They'll kill you!
Crashes, confusion, swearing—it went on and on. The fire of lasers, Elyse's roaring and snarling. And then the words that chilled him.
"She's down! Elyse is down!"
"Strap her onto the stretcher,” the voice of command ordered, controlled but angry. “Get the hunter. Strap down and tranquilize him as well. I don't want either regaining consciousness until we've delivered them."
Hands grabbed him, impersonal, neither rough nor gentle. Business-like. He was turned, lifted, dumped on a stretcher. Straps fastened across his shoulders and thighs and ankles. A piercing in his skin, cold liquid following. The voices slurred, faded.
The last thing he heard was, “She's bleeding out!"
Oh, sweet God have mercy! Elyse!
* * * *
She heard the commotion outside her chamber. Excited voices, rushing feet. Moving across to the door, she pressed her ear to the thick wood, but could only catch snatches of words.
"Got her—"
"Mutant—"
"Had to tranqu—bled out—"
"Nearly lost her—"
"Trying to stabilize—"
The rushing feet faded, and all was quiet once more.
Wondering who they talked about, she went and sat by the window to look out, but she didn't stay there long. There was such a chill in the air, and the sky was strangely blurry in one section. A shadow sometimes slithered across the far wall when no one was there.
The place had to be haunted, probably by the ghosts of those tortured and murdered.
With a shudder, she went back to the bed and sat down. Picking up a history book, she started reading, trying to blot out all thoughts of what was to become of her.
* * * *
Elyse awoke to find herself surrounded by pale green liquid. The familiarity of it hit her instantly, the realization that she was in a narrow, thick glass cylinder. Panic set in.
No! No no no! Nooooooo!
Thrashing around, shoving at the glass cylinder walls that surrounded her, she tried to kick her way free, screaming silently, rushes of bubbles frothing in a frenzy from her mouth.
She fought to get free, pushing at the lid with her hands, her feet, pounding on the glass walls, but she only succeeded in hurting her hands and feet. After ten minutes of solid fighting, she had to stop.
Exhausted, fighting the sobs, she looked around wildly. She was in a laboratory of some kind. A table filled with vials and bottles stood in the centre of the room. A screen showing an outline of her body and monitoring her vital signs was on one wall.
Another screen above the table showed an image of herself, naked and wide-eyed, the panic on her face, her hair a cloud of brown that swirled in the liquid about her head. She was breathing in the liquid, breathing it in as she had when she and Sonja had been captured by Madam on Inka, and their mutants unleashed.
But the only cylinder was the one she was in. There was no Sonja, and no Shaque. The chamber was empty of any other living being.
Oh God, where am I?
Where's Shaque? The memory of the attack on the wreck of the slave ship, the white gas, came back to her. Shaque!
Then she felt it, the chill sliding over her, through her. Something touching the mutant inside her, trailing fingers colder than death through her mind. Caressing the mutant, making it roar in her ears.
And then she realized that she was roaring and clapped a hand over her mouth. Oh God, oh God, she couldn't go mutant now. She had to think! But going mutant meant she might be able to fight her way out of the cylinder, get free and look for Shaque—
"You're awake.” A cloaked and hooded figure walked into the room, stopping before the screen showing her vital signs. “Good. Very good."
Elyse didn't have to see his face to know that something was very wrong with this man. Thing.
A movement at the door made her turn to watch the next entrant. The white figure sitting in the throne that floated through the door wasn't tall, but he was richly gowned in a burgundy robe that made him even whiter. The black slits of his pupils dilated as he turned the throne to face her directly. His lipless mouth pursed as he studied her. The slits that were his nostrils flared slightly.
"So, Elyse, we finally meet.” The words hissed out.
"Where's Shaque?” She hammered at the glass. “Goddamn you, where is he?"
"Elyse!” The cloaked man stepped forward. “This is The Overlord. You don't raise your—"
"I know who he is!” Rage bubbled up inside her. “Where is Shaque, damn you? Where am I?"
The Overlord held up one hand when the cloaked man started to object again. “No, Phemar. This is quite refreshing. And interesting. Look at her eyes change."
She was going mutant. She could feel the rage pouring through her, the mutant deep inside waking, stirring.
When Fredrico walked in followed by an ebony pirate, she snarled at them, her fist hitting the side of the glass. The liquid sloshed.
Phemar checked the readout from the monitors on the image on the wall.
Fredrico looked dispassionately at her. Standing by the door, his gaze never left her face. He didn't leer, didn't look his full of her nakedness. Nor did the ebony pirate. They stood silently, waiting for The Overlord's orders.
"You traitor!” The growl burst forth from her as she glared at Fredrico. “Would you have done the same to Sonja?"
He didn't flinch, didn't answer.
"Sonja is beyond my control.” The Overlord moved the throne higher until he could look Elyse fully in the face without craning his neck. His pupils elongated, slitted, as his pink eyes swept over her face. “Still so pretty, Elyse, yet the mutant lurks behind your prettiness. I can see it in your eyes. They gleam with hate, so red, so bright."
If he'd come closer, just a little closer...
"As for your Shaque...” Abruptly The Overlord shifted the throne, turning it so it drifted across the room. “He's safe."
"Where?” She slammed one hand against the glass.
A tiny cloud of blood appeared in the water in front of her. No one but she noticed the little drop of blood from her nose.
"Your concern for him is interesting."
"He's no part of this."
"Oh, he's going to play a big part, if he passes the test.” The Overlord's chair turned leisurely and he drifted back towards her. “And you."
"Test?” She snarled as the mutant pushed to the surface.
Pressure against the mutant, something pushing it back under. Icy fingers tracing through her mind, tracing over the mutant, making her shudder.
She fought it, furious, as her gaze locked onto Phemar. He was the one! He was the one who had touched her in the past! He dared! Another little cloud of blood slid out, and another.
Her enraged roar made the water in the cylinder tremble, and her fist hitting against the glass made an audible cracking sound. Blood seeped from her mouth, clouding the liquid. Pain seared through her, fleeting, disappearing as the mutant shook away Phemar's touch.
"Overlord,” Phemar hissed warningly.
Lights flickered on the monitors, a beeping sounding.
The Overlord moved further back from the cylinder. “What's happening?"
"She's fighting me. Fighting. But I can force the mutant back, I can—” He stumbled, fell to one knee. Rotten flesh spilled onto the floor, steam coiling up from the putrid mess.
A red haze over her sight, Elyse let the mutant spill forth, bringing it up from the depths inside her. It roared up, bellowing its release.
The glass cracked under her punch, the crack travelling up the cylinder with the kick she delivered next.
"Tranquilizer!” Fredrico ordered. Striding to the screen, he looked at The Overlord for confirmation, and when he nodded, Fredrico pressed a switch on the side.
The liquid grew darker, and because she was breathing it in, the tranquilizer went through her system with every pump of her agitated heart, pushing through, clouding her mind, disorientating the mutant. It howled in defiance, but it was short-lived.
Voices faded, energy drained. She floated in nothingness.
* * * *
; Grabbing the bars of the cell he'd been in for the last week, Shaque peered down the corridor. Fredrico had come once to see him, to check for himself that he was healed. He told him Elyse was alive, but said nothing more, and had simply turned and left. Apart from someone bringing him three meals a day, and those contents dubious, he'd been alone.
But he heard voices now, and around the corner came something he'd suspected. He'd met Fredrico several years before when he and his pack, as well as Sabra and Cam, had been teleported back to The Overlord's fortress in the Inner Sanctum of the Outlaw sector. Then, The Overlord had released them after they'd provided sport for his people, and had killed the ones The Overlord wanted dead.
He'd never thought to see the alien being again. But as soon as he'd seen Fredrico, he'd suspected. Seeing The Overlord on his throne proved it.
Shaque stepped back before the throne came to a stop in front of his cell. Behind The Overlord stood Fredrico and Veknor, the ebony pirate he also recognized.
"Hunter.” The Overlord nodded.
Shaque looked coldly at him. His only fear was for Elyse, not himself.
"You haven't changed.” The slitted pupils elongated.
"Where is Elyse?'
"She is doing well."
"What do you want with us?"
The Overlord smiled. “You have many questions, and so does Elyse. I'll be answering them very soon. But first, Knifer, I have a test you both need to pass."
Shaque arched one brow coolly.
"I do like you, hunter. Such a shame you're not on my side.” When Shaque still didn't answer, he dropped his hand to rest on the ornate armrest of his throne. “The test will decide if you're both worthy enough to have the answers you both seek."
"And what if we don't pass this test?
"You'll both die."
"How comforting."
The Overlord smiled thinly. “You will be brought to the test room soon. I'd advise you to rest up."
"Will Elyse be there?"
"Oh yes.” The Overlord's sharp teeth glinted in amusement. “She will be there waiting for you."
The throne moved back, turned, and drifted down the corridor. Fredrico and Veknor walked beside The Overlord, and they disappeared from view around the corner.
Soul of a Predator Page 28
