Galvanizing Sol (Valos of Sonhadra Novella)

by Amanda Milo

  GALVANIZING SOL

  VALOS OF SONHADRA

  A NOVELLA

  OF ALLUVIAL AND TEMPEST

  Science Fiction Romance

  by

  Amanda Milo

  &

  Poppy Rhys

  Copyright © 2018 Amanda Milo and Poppy Rhys

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  Edited by LY Publishing Services and Tiffany Roberts

  Cover Art: Cameron Kamenicky

  This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information and retrieval system without express written permission from the Author/Publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Galvanizing Sol - ARC

  RAPID FIRE RECAP

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  FUN TRIVIA

  NOTE FROM THE AUTHORS

  VALOS OF SONHADRA

  MORE FROM AMANDA MILO

  MORE FROM POPPY RHYS

  ABOUT THE AUTHORS

  WARNING

  This story contains mature content, violence, and probably too much language.

  RAPID FIRE RECAP

  CHARLIE AND PRETA ARE half-sisters, and share a widowed father, U.S. Army Major General Gerard Sol.

  Charlie used to be a spy.

  (Sorry... Always wanted to say that.)

  Bad guys put pressure on her and her dad when they wrongly imprisoned civilian Preta.

  Charlie gets herself thrown in the clink too as a last-ditch effort to save her sister, and undergoes the same torture as all the sorry occupants of the orbital space prisonship, The Concord. As you might recall, this is no regular prison. She and Preta undergo cruel experimentation that will alter them forever.

  The prisonship crashes on an alien planet—chaos ensues, ugly, scary, shrieking killer creatures called the Ak’rena go shriek! shriek! attacking the survivors, and the sisters are forced to split up.

  An Ak’rena chases Charlie to the water, where she is forcefully invited under the sea by a mischievous kleptomaniac alien who she falls hopelessly in love with—along with his three hot housemates.

  Meanwhile, Preta’s on the run with the guard who knocked her up, and when they are accosted by a group of ship survivors, they get rescued by a trio of tree dragons who can turn into men, and these aliens keep her from starving by using creative means—and yeah! Of course she falls in love with them too.

  At the end of their stories, the sisters are both growing heavily pregnant, limiting their ability to travel, but they are searching for a way to send a message to their father to let him know they are safe & happy. During one of these forays, they come upon Charlie’s dog tags on the ground near the body of a dead woman—dog tags she’d left around the neck of their dad.

  *Gasp!*

  Somehow, Gerard Sol made it to Sonhadra.

  This is Daddy Sol’s story ;D

  ONE

  GERARD

  Where the fuck are my girls?

  My eyes narrowed and my tongue ran over my teeth as I seethed. Standing here, trying to act like the good soldier I’d been all my adult life...

  I was having a hard time keeping my composure while I stood on the outside of the pristine lab’s observation glass and watched a young female being carved up like a Thanksgiving turkey.

  Conscious. Awake, but numbed. Disgusting.

  Captain Taylor glanced over at me. “Experiments are coming along well.”

  Robotically, I nodded.

  Honestly, I just wanted to raze this fucking place to the ground.

  The mini bone saw drilled into the inmate’s lowest rib.

  Zzzzzz, it went.

  “I suddenly have a hankering for lasagna,” the prison doctor said to his assistant while he hacked away. “How about you, Clark?”

  The fuckers laughed.

  Were they joking about their dinner while they cut up my girls?

  I clenched my fists behind my back. The knuckles popped so loudly I heard it over the grating, high-pitched sound of the saw.

  General Davis—a real cunt—purposefully sent me here, knowing my daughters were inmates, to oversee the progress of the experiments being conducted on the IPS Concord.

  Human experiments.

  Experiments that shouldn’t be happening. Procedures I didn’t know about, and activities not privy to the world.

  Illegal on all levels.

  I couldn’t refuse without bringing suspicion. I was a model Major General, loyal to his country, no matter the cost—even if it meant my family got run over because they broke the law.

  The fucked up circumstances didn’t matter. The plan was to keep up the act until my girls were smuggled planetside, healthy, whole, and free under assumed identities, then I would join them.

  My loyalty died when the government I served my whole life didn’t protect Preta and turned on Charlie. Fuck them.

  Bright crimson arterial blood squirted from the female’s flayed chest, splashing across the assistant’s—Clark’s—white coat.

  The inmate’s bloodshot eyes widened, and she moaned, tears leaking from the corners and sliding into her dark hair.

  “Whoops!” the doctor chuckled. “Nicked an artery!”

  The asshole didn’t seem to be in a rush to fix it either.

  I wanted to wring his fucking neck. All I could think about were my girls. What experiments had they undergone? Charlie had only been up here a week—I watched her leave Earth in that armored shuttle, cuffed—but Preta, my baby, had been here for six months.

  Six goddamn months.

  Had these bastards cut her open? Sliced and diced her like a roll of sushi?

  The inmate’s eyelids fluttered, her gushing artery weakening with every stitch Clark weaved, but it was too late. Her head lolled and the machine’s loud, harrowing beep shrieked through the room.

  She flatlined. Dead and useless to them now.

  I turned on my heel and left the lab, Taylor at my back.

  My feet pounded the floor with every heavy step my tall frame took. Cells holding orange-clad inmates were to my left and my right, guards in crisp black uniforms patrolling, pausing to straighten and salute me.

  I ignored the fuckers. My patience was paper thin and ready to crumble at the slightest provocation. The last thing I wanted to do was look one of these scumbags in the eye.

  I didn’t respect them, and I didn’t give two shits if they respected me.

  It was taking a considerable amount of willpower to keep away from Alpha pod—where I knew my girls were. Had to bide my time, let the plan Charlie, Jamie—her ex-handler—and I worked out have a chance.

  Trust the plan.

  My steps nearly faltered when I saw Drogan turn a corner ahead.


  He didn’t see me. Probably didn’t know I was here. My arrival was quiet. Only the warden and these few guards knew about my presence, and for what purpose.

  I checked the watch on my wrist. I’d be expected back on Earth in less than one-hundred-twenty minutes.

  “Too bad about that one,” Taylor said at my side. “Would’ve been a beautiful outcome, had she survived.”

  Taylor was a good captain. He meant well, but right now, I wanted to bury my fist in his fucking face.

  Granted, he had the right idea—touting the sadistic experiments of this place. It was possible he didn’t mean a damn thing he said and thought this whole slice-and-dice parade was a travesty, but it sure as hell didn’t seem that way. He put on a good show if that were the case.

  I knew he was following my lead, outwardly showing loyalty to the government we served. That, or he was testing me. It wasn’t a secret both my daughters were in here. For all I knew, General Davis sent Taylor with me to report on my behavior.

  If that were true, I respected Taylor a little more. The man had balls, prodding the father of two inmates.

  “Indeed,” I uttered, continuing my stride. “Damn shame.”

  “Where are you headed?” he asked, stopping short, chin jerking to the left. “Alpha pod is that way.”

  My feet sealed to the floor and the muscle in my jaw twitched.

  I saw Drogan head in that direction, and while I doubted he would give me a handshake and offer me a beer, I wouldn’t risk it.

  Ryan Drogan was the first failed attempt to get my baby out of this shitshow. I had to hand it to the private company running this place—they had very few vulnerabilities. Being here in person, well, it was even more extreme than I realized.

  I didn’t blame Drogan for the failed extraction, and I knew—once I didn’t hear from him for weeks—something had gone wrong.

  My disappointment was only surmounted by the news that Preta was still alive. Not safe, but alive. That’s what mattered.

  Maybe I was a selfish bastard, but I already lost her mother—both of their mothers—I couldn’t...

  I couldn’t lose Preta too.

  Trying to stop Charlie from getting herself imprisoned was a lost cause. I still regretted not doing more to stop her, though I knew she was right.

  “I’m going, Dad,” she’d declared after I prepared to send a second soldier up here for another attempt at extraction.

  “Now, Charlie,” I had argued, knowing she was exactly like her mother and once she had her mind set on something, there was no talking her down. “I’ve got it handled.”

  “Another soldier? Someone who doesn’t know Preta like we do? No,” she’d insisted. “I’m going.”

  Charlie and Preta were little mirrors of their mothers, even though they’d never known either. Charlie was too young to remember Preta’s mom.

  Initially, it had gutted me. Tiny reminders—painful reminders—of the losses in my life.

  Once I got my grief in check, those flickers of the women I’d loved shining through in the two hellions I was raising—magic.

  “Need a word with the warden first, Captain,” I declared in a tone that would garner no argument, and continued in that direction. I could detect Taylor’s lengthened strides as he strived to keep up.

  The possibility of seeing my girls right now—behind electronic weave and babbling like half of these sorry sacks I passed—I couldn’t handle it.

  Not without losing my fucking mind.

  TWO

  GERARD

  I had to shake the fucker’s hand. All the bleach in the world wouldn’t get rid of the hidden filth of that man's palm.

  Warden Radley Horton looked me dead in the eyes like the smug prick he was, probably storing up this moment of triumph for his spank bank later as I had to sit in front of him, parked in a chair that was too short. Why it was too short wasn’t exactly one of life’s mysteries. A nearsighted hamster couldn’t have failed to notice how Horton’s big-assed chair offered him a fortuitous height advantage.

  I’d be willing to bet he sawed off the fucking legs himself.

  In fact, when my gaze flickered around the modern office—with its too-blocky geometric design I couldn’t stand—every piece of furniture was dwarfed in comparison.

  My sight centered back on Horton and his eyes burned with a malicious anticipation—no doubt enjoying his lofty height and the sordid truth that both my daughters were in this fucking tin can. I clenched my teeth.

  Mistake.

  My jaw twitched in reaction, and by his chilling smile, I knew he’d seen it. He was loving this.

  He always was a sadistic bastard. We were both out of Fort Jackson, but he wasn’t the sort of old Army buddy you thought of fondly and called up for a drink whenever you happened to be in town.

  Horton was always a bit off.

  I needed to get out of here. If I couldn’t save my girls now, I also couldn’t afford to blow my chance by beating that ugly grin off his face.

  He steepled his fingers.

  Pompous ass.

  I smiled back. Internally, I sneered. Goatfucker. “You’ve got quite the operation...” Weasel dick. “Shame I can’t chat. I’m due back in—”

  “Before you go, Sol,” he interjected, demeanor oozing with superiority.

  Ballsy cocksucker. My voice could cut through steel as I reminded him who he was addressing. “Major General.”

  Our eyes locked.

  Whistling a cheery tune, he broke our stare to fondle buttons I knew, without a shadow of a doubt: I did not want to operate. I didn’t want to see what he was gearing up to show me. An ominous premonition clenched down on my guts and socked me in the stomach.

  My girls under this man’s care...

  I had to shut down that thought-train.

  Focus, Sol.

  With a vile grin that had dread pooling around my heart like a man suffering from a hemothorax after a shrapnel round to the chest, I watched the wall of transparent monitors flicker on.

  My eyes widened, my fingers dug into the arms of the chair, and my guts dropped out my ass.

  My girls.

  Evidence of sadistic experiments being conducted on the two hellions I’d raised—my precious flesh and blood—unfolded like some sick fuck’s wet dream.

  I tore my gaze away and glared at Horton as he propped his elbows on his desk.

  This sick fuck’s wet dream.

  Taylor stepped forward. “Warden, this is unnecessary—”

  “Pipe down, son,” Horton barked, cutting Taylor off.

  “That’s Captain—”

  I snapped.

  In one swift move I stood, the chair kicking back with my forceful rise, and I stretched across the desk to grab a fistful of Horton’s too-long, slicked back hair and bashed the fucker’s face into his own fancy electronic agenda.

  “You sonuvabitch!” I bellowed, pulling his head up just to smash it down again.

  The agenda cracked, the calendar contents glitching beneath the blood that spurted from his nose and mouth.

  “General!” Taylor shouted, laying hands on my arms to pull me away.

  “You sick fucking shit-swilling maggot!” I ground out, shoving Taylor off and kicking a chair out of my way to circle around the desk. This motherfucker was getting monkey stomped.

  Horton laughed, the sound ricketing up my spine and forcing my fists to clench, ready to knock his fucking head off. This disgusting sack of clowndicks had been overseeing the torture of my daughters.

  “I’m going to shove my foot up your ass and use you as a fucking flip-flop,” I promised.

  He continued to laugh, wiping the blood from his chin. This shitstain was unhinged.

  “You never could take a joke, Sol.” He spit a stream of red at my feet.

  A joke? He thought this was a fucking joke?

  The audio of Preta and Charlie’s pleas and screams sent me into a haze I didn’t know if I could come back from.

  Horton s
tood, throwing a punch, and it was apparent the private sector had softened his reflexes, made him slow, made him weak.

  His neck was in my fist, his blood on my knuckles, and his life in my hands as I unleashed my pent up rage on him.

  All these months of mind-numbing fury when I couldn’t do a fucking thing to help Preta. I didn’t care how many times she insisted she wasn’t my little girl because she was exactly that—my little girl.

  Taylor’s arms wrapped around me in an attempt to haul me off but he was no match for my violent madness as I continued to pound my fist into Horton’s bloody mug.

  He dropped to the floor.

  I wasn’t done. I wasn’t fucking finished with this bastard, but Taylor got the upper hand, succeeding in pulling me back.

  “He’s a fucking prick, Sol,” he huffed, the strain in his young voice obvious. “But he’s not worth losing your career over!”

  “Get the hell off me, Taylor!” I twisted and shoved him away, getting in a good kick to Horton’s ribs before the captain came at me again.

  Goddamn he was persistent.

  “I don’t care about my fucking career!” I shouted, shouldering him back. “I’ll take this shithole to the ground before I let them hurt my girls again.”

  I’d lost my damn mind at this point. Determination to blow this circle of hell out of the sky swelled within me. We’d all die before I let them torture Preta and Charlie ag—

  The floor jerked and my body slammed against the desk.

  Alarms blared and lights flashed.

  “Warning!” an automated voice boomed, and then the contents of the entire office flew to the ceiling, Taylor and I included.

  THREE

  GERARD

  The lights and alarms were dead, and the constant hum of electronics was gone. All was quiet in the trashed office, aside from the heaving sound of Taylor puking his guts up. “Kid, it’s a good thing you didn’t enlist in the Air Force.”

  He wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve, nodding weakly. “I did. Pulled an Operation Blue to Green.”

  I felt my lips crook up as I exercised my sore shoulder. “You’re shitting me.” I can normally pick out the service from first glance. I’d have pegged Taylor as a grunt all the way. A flyboy?