by Linda Mooney
“Where am I going, Peersoff?”
“End of the corridor.”
Which lay directly in front of her. For a moment, she paused and stared at the blank wall.
“Thirty-five minutes, Captain.”
She whirled around, but she was surrounded by wall on all three sides. Taking a deep breath, she examined the plain gray plating. Peersoff said end of the corridor. He didn’t say door at the end. He knew there wouldn’t be one here.
Raising her arm, she mentally armed herself with her highest caliber and aimed at the wall’s direct center. Two blasts blew through the plating, melting them and the support beams. Before she had the chance to push aside the soft, dripping material, a harsh white light shot through the opening, nearly blinding her.
Chapter Nine
Light
Will’s shield automatically darkened to prevent the light from blinding her. It was a stark, brilliant light, and it intensified as she pushed through the hole, into the next room. She sensed heat and pressure from it, but her aura prevented her from being affected by whatever it contained.
She found herself inside a passenger cabin, although she couldn’t tell the actual size. The light was emanating from the far corner, pulsating like a small sun. Its location reminded her of the first time she’d seen Vall trying to retreat as far as he could, away from the strangers entering his cell.
She straightened just as Magnus reminded her. “Thirty minutes.”
“Vall?”
The glow immediately decreased. It took her eyes a moment to adjust before she caught sight of the young man standing less than five meters away. A small ball of light appeared to be rotating in front of him. She started to reach out for him when the orb vanished inside his chest.
Will hesitated, her gaze focused on the area where the light had disappeared. A soft sound drew her attention up to his face, to find him staring intently at her. He recognized the armor. He just couldn’t see through the shell to see who was inside.
“Uli.”
Will almost gasped in surprise. A word. Vall had finally broken his silence.
She dropped her helmet and lifted her arm. “Vall!”
The man’s face erupted into a relief-filled smile. Will hurried over to grab his hand, and led him back to the hole. Translate. “Hurry! We have to get out of here!”
He didn’t resist, and allowed her to draw him back through the opening in the wall. When they emerged on the other side, Peersoff and his men were running toward them.
“Twenty-five minutes, Captain.”
Wordlessly, they hurried back down the corridor for the tubes. From the tube, they returned to the main engine room without any further incidents. It wasn’t until they reached the air lock that Will realized they were faced with another dilemma.
“Everyone! Look around. See if you can find a containment suit.”
“Twenty minutes, Captain.”
Two men rushed off to check outlying areas, but soon returned, shaking their heads. It was soon apparent what she had to do. Dropping her outer shell, Will turned to face Vall.
“We’re going to have to get close together again,” she told him, letting the others know what she intended. “But it’s going to be a bit different. You’re riding horizontal this time.”
Floating in free space was one thing. The first time Will had shared her armor with Vall, it was a simple matter of having another warrior hook up to her and guide them into the ship. This time, however, in addition to the gravitational field, there was a minefield of sharp metal and the boiling aftermath of the destroyed engine bay. If it was just herself, she was invulnerable to any puncture or rip in the armor. But adding Vall was going to stretch the armor in ways it was never meant to be. Not with someone his size. Which meant her aura’s natural ability would be severely compromised.
Fortunately, a female Nion was gifted with a shield with the ability to stretch. Having that little bit of give was vital in order to protect her offspring. Will had taken that risk before, knowing Vall was larger than a child, but hoped his thin body would not push her aura past its limits.
It had worked last time. She hoped it would work again.
To her surprise, Vall stepped toward her first and wrapped his arms around her, bowing his head so that his face brushed her shoulder. Will enclosed them both and waited. They were lifted together, a man at both ends and a third holding them aloft in the middle. Despite the space station’s lighter pull of gravity, Will felt Vall’s weight pressing down on her. It made breathing difficult, but this arrangement would only be temporary, until they were back on the Trinity.
He moved slightly. She started to tell him to remain absolutely still, when she felt his lips on her skin.
No. On her insignia. On the military tattoo on the side of her neck.
He nuzzled it. His lips lightly kissed her sweaty skin. Only his mouth moved, until he brought his tongue into play. To her surprise, she found herself becoming aroused by his touch. Her vaginal muscles clenched involuntarily, sending prickles of desire rushing beneath her skin.
Her body became aware of the slightest shift in gravity. They were inside the remains of the engine room. Here, the men had to move more carefully to preserve their human package.
“Ten minutes, Captain.”
Vall’s breath was warm on her skin. It puffed like a gentle breeze. Like a beckoning. She realized her mouth was near his ear, and that his hair tickled her cheek. She closed her eyes, letting herself enjoy the sweet moment, while also condemning herself for her weakness when she should be watching their progress back to the Trinity.
A large bulge was evident between her legs. His weight pressed it against the fabric of her uniform to where she could feel its heat and hardness. Fleetingly, she wondered what it would be like to have him inside her. Moving inside her. A mental image formed in her mind’s eye, and her womb almost clenched in anticipation.
He smelled of ozone and something less distinct. It wasn’t any residue from his clothing. It wasn’t caused by any perfumed smoke or bath freshener. Unable to pinpoint the elusive scent, she drew her arms tighter around him. His long, thin legs, which had been resting on top of hers, started to drape over their sides. Quickly, she admonished him with gritted teeth.
“Don’t move!”
He froze. His legs didn’t return to their original position, but neither did they resume their prior movement.
“Five minutes, Captain.”
She started to ask how much further they were from the ship when she felt another miniscule shift in gravity. A moment later, she was being lifted upward. They were on the walkway. As they ascended, the staircase was closing into the Trinity.
There was a sudden, unexpected jolt as a methadene bomb exploded inside the engine bay. Will felt the impact all the way to her bones. A metallic scream immediately filled the ship, letting them know one section had been breached. The Objurians had discovered their hiding place. Unable to fit inside the engine bay, the alien craft hovered outside the hole in the space station and fired into the hold. If the Trinity remained here much longer, the other Objurian vessels would soon join the fight. Under the combined firepower, Trinity’s shields would eventually fall, and they would be blasted into atoms. Their only chance was to flee.
“Magnus, get us out of here!”
“Starting evasive maneuvers, Captain!”
The ship literally leaped out of the destroyed engine room and back into space, flying a zigzag course past the lumbering vessel, but not before another methadene blast struck their underbelly and rattled every inch of the Trinity. Will had prepared herself for the abrupt acceleration, but not for the explosion that threw the ship into a sudden, tight spiral. As Trinity spun out of control, they lost their grip on each other. Vall flew away from her, bursting through her shield as he vaulted head over heels across the cargo bay. She screamed as her armor and every inch of her skin was ripped from her body.
Dimly, she was aware of stage one claxons bl
aring in the distance, but everything else was swallowed up by the unrelenting agony frying her from the inside out. She couldn’t move; she could barely breathe. Even the beating of her heart was too painful to withstand.
Somehow, she managed to open her eyes in time to see a white cloth being lowered over her. As it initially touched her raw and fragmented musculature, she screamed again. Yet, once it settled and adhered to her body, she felt a cold numbness seep into her exposed tissues.
Will struggled to remain awake and cognizant, but it was impossible to fight the medicated second skin. She needed to tell them where to head. She needed to make sure Vall was all right. She needed to let them know about the strange white light that had emanated from him.
She needed to remember to do all that when she awakened from her drugged sleep, but she had no memory once she slipped into unconsciousness.
Chapter Ten
Plymon
Plymon rubbed his face with both hands and loudly sighed. Outside the view screen, the universe slid by on streaks of light. They were racing for the Tidel 44 galaxy. At last check, the Ben Objure had not locked onto their location. The bugs were not strong when it came to pursuit.
“Incoming Regent transmission, Sub-captain.”
“Let’s hear it, Granth.”
“It’s for Captain Tayte’s ears only.”
Plymon frowned at the communication’s officer. “Are the Regents aware of the Captain’s condition?”
“They were notified,” Granth said by way of an answer.
The Sub-captain pressed the button on the chair’s arm. “Medical. Killjorn?”
“Gayt here. Killjorn is with the Captain.”
“Is the Captain able to take an ears only transmission from the Regency?”
“Hold. I’ll check.”
There was a moment of silence before Killjorn came online. “Killjorn here. The Captain is awake and cognizant. You can transfer the transmission down here.”
“Transferring transmission,” Granth announced before Plymon had the chance to order it done.
The speaker at his elbow went silent. Plymon stared out the view screen for a minute before curiosity and boredom got to be too much for him. Leaping from the chair, he headed for the tube.
“Magnus, you have the chair while I check on the Captain’s status.”
He totally missed the knowing looks passed between the crewmembers on the bridge.
Stepping into the corridor leading to the medical bay, he nearly collided with Gayt, who was hurrying in the opposite direction. Plymon pasted a smile on his face.
“What’s the rush?”
She gave him an equally banal smile. Clearly, the woman was hiding something. “Just heading back to my lab to run a few tests.”
“What kind of tests?”
This time he got a slightly irritated look from the scientist before it quickly vanished.
“I’m not quite sure what the Captain wants to find. You might want to ask her.”
He started to reply when the young woman turned and rushed away. Her answer had been a clear slap in the face. He might be acting captain during Tayte’s convalescence, but the scientist made no pretense in pretending he was the real person in charge. As long as Tayte was alive and in charge, he would always be treated as a secondary.
Frustration burned in his gut. Just when he thought he’d earned the crew’s respect, they managed to remind him of his place in the order of things. Yes, he was the Sub-captain, but it was a title that held very little power, especially with the real Captain still in charge.
He stomped into the medical bay a little more forcefully than he realized. Killjorn looked up from her monitor, one eyebrow lifted questioningly at him.
“Yes, Sub-captain?”
Was it his imagination, or did she emphasize the sub part of his title?
“I need to speak with the Captain.”
“She’s in conference at the moment. If you’re able to wait, I’ll let you know when she’s ready to see you.”
Plymon nodded. Otherwise, he had no choice but to leave. It would take them another six to seven hours to reach Tidel 44. If he went back to the bridge, he would quickly grow bored again.
That was one thing he never understood about Willis Tayte. She could sit up there in her chair on the bridge, and remain there, perfectly content for her entire ten hour shift. In the two hours he had been in charge, he’d already grown restless to the point of agitation.
He glanced around the bay, looking for something to occupy his time while he waited, when he caught sight of the figure sitting in the far corner of the room. Partially hidden in the shadows, Vall sat like a stone guardian, unmoving and silent. Only the man’s eyes gave him away as being alive and awake.
Plymon approached the man, who watched him with apprehension with those funny yellow colored eyes, although his overall expression was filled with sorrow. He was sitting with his legs cross in front of him, feet bare. He reminded Plymon of a small child or pet sitting in an out of the way corner while his mistress was out of reach.
Stopping in front of the man, Plymon crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you have any idea what kind of chaos you’ve brought to this ship? Or to Captain Tayte?”
Vall dropped his gaze but didn’t answer. The Sub-captain realized the man probably didn’t understand what he was saying.
Translate.
Placing his hands on his hips, Plymon tried again. “What makes you so special that the Captain is willing to take the risks she’s been taking? Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused?”
Vall rolled his eyes up at the man, then bowed his head. Outwardly, it appeared that the man was being apologetic, but Plymon didn’t buy it for one minute. Furthermore, there was another little detail he had to mention.
“Don’t think I’m not also aware of how close the two of you are becoming. Don’t forget I know about your little nap on the observation deck.”
Dropping into a crouch, he bent over to whisper. “In case you don’t realize it, the Captain is my fekking partner. Do you understand that? She and I are fekking partners throughout the duration of this mission. So whatever interest you’re harboring for the Captain, I strongly suggest you kick it out into the void and forget about it, because she’s not available. Not to you, and not to anyone else. Do you understand me, Vall?”
He wanted badly to call the man “it”, but chose otherwise at the last second.
Vall kept his head bowed, his shoulders slumped, his body unmoving. Not seeing any kind of reaction told Plymon that the man heard and understood every word. If there was anyplace else to retreat, he was certain Vall would have left the medical bay. Apparently, no one had taken the time to show their guest the way to his quarters.
The Sub-captain straightened up and walked over to the main board, when the door leading into the Captain’s unit slid open. Killjorn stepped over the threshold and approached him.
“The transmission has ended. She’ll see you now.”
Plymon saw how the doctor glanced over at the man sitting on the floor, then looked back at him.
“Make it brief. She’s tired.”
“How is she doing? I was just about to check her condition.”
“The skin sealants are beginning to spread. Give or take another fifty hours, and she can come out of the cocoon.”
“How long before she can regenerate her shield?”
“That depends, but I would estimate another hundred hours.” Killjorn ran a hand through her unruly hair. The doctor usually kept the curly locks in a tight knot at the back of her head, but stray strands often found their way loose, to float and bounce around the woman’s face. Her fingers unconsciously tucked some of those loose ends behind her ear.
“We do have one thing to be grateful for,” she added. “Even though the damage to her system was extensive, it wasn’t permanent. If the Captain had been holding a bomb within her aura, no amount of medicine could have saved her. But fortunately, we a
re aware of many instances where women have had their shields shredded because someone, usually a child, was ejected from their grasps. It’s the same sort of case we have here, just a bit more extensive, due to Vall’s size. But, because of those prior incidents, we have the knowledge and ability to save her and her Nion abilities, with few, if any, lasting aftereffects.”
Two conflicting emotions went through the Sub-captain. He felt relief, knowing that Will would be able to remain on the ship in her current assignment. At the same time, he also realized that the problem with Vall would continue to plague him, and the full force of his jealousy threatened to overwhelm him.
Giving the doctor a curt word of thanks, Plymon went into the next room. The Captain lay suspended within a thick azure field containing her sterile cocoon. Every inch of her outer layer was sealed by the skin sheet. Inside the dark blue light where she floated in silence, Plymon felt an eerie sense of intimacy. It was as if he was being given permission to witness her at her weakest, most vulnerable moment. Considering how well he knew her body after numerous sexual encounters, being inside the healing aura made him feel closer to her than he ever had in the past.
A transparent monitor hovered above the cocoon. The image of her face on the screen resembled a pale bony skull. Plymon stopped in front of the viewer and waited for her to look at him. Presently, the eye sockets appeared to open, and Will focused on his face.
“Report.”
Her voice came from the monitor. The tone was all business.
“We’re heading for Tidel 44. There’s no sign of pursuit from the Ben Objure.”
“And there won’t be.”
Now he could hear her weariness and pain. Like ragged edges, the combination made her sound hoarse.
“We should arrive within a few hours.”
“Killjorn says I could be released in fifty hours.”
He nodded, then launched into what he’d been wanting to ask her. “What did the Regency say?”
Colorless eyes studied him for a few moments. “They’re still studying Vall’s DNA, and trying to discover his species. They’re sending the Legion of Mercy to meet with us at Tidel 44, and take Vall off our hands.”
