by PJ Schnyder
“Speaking of orders, we’ve had a new communication from Terran Command.” Dev pushed away from the main entry to the mess hall. He’d slipped out a few minutes prior and returned before most of the room noticed. “They’re marked urgent for immediate dissemination to all personnel including you, Captain Petrico-Calin the Fourth, so I’ll expedite by reading these aloud for everyone to hear. For immediate dissemination and all that.”
Dev did have the best timing she’d ever encountered.
He looked down at the data pad in his hand. “Lots of background red tape here, we’ll skip those discussions. Ah here we go. ‘Captain Petrico-Calin the Fourth, your orders are hereby altered to include the retrieval of remaining military crew and to investigate both the whereabouts and identities of those responsible for their capture and treatment.’” Dev nodded. “Well, I think that’s clear enough.”
“I’ll have a look at that.” Petrico-Calin strode toward Dev, reaching for the data pad.
“Of course, Captain.” Dev moved it slightly out of range of Petrico-Calin’s first grab. “I’ve already ensured a copy of the communication is waiting in the personal data cube of all personnel. You’re more than welcome to access it at your convenience from your own terminal. Seeing as you’re all guests aboard my ship, consider it a courtesy. It’s the least I can do since it looks as if our contract is extended. Now then, I can’t have anyone thinking I’m an irresponsible host. I’d recommend our new arrivals report to the Medical Bay. Virus or no, these boys need to be seen to.”
Dev smiled, his face open and projecting a perfectly genial facade. Kaitlyn knew better. Despite the relaxed exterior, her captain was ready to act if Petrico-Calin continued to attempt to take them all back. Military partners of whatever rank or position, it was still Dev’s ship and he was still captain.
Petrico-Calin looked ready to argue for a long minute, his jaw working and his hands balled into fists. With a visible effort he too relaxed. “Well, Captain, aren’t these orders opportune? We’ll go after our men, then, with your crew’s help. And then we’ll return to Terra with all of them.”
There was no doubt about who was included in Petrico-Calin’s interpretation of “all.”
Still, Kaitlyn would put her faith in her captain and focus on seeing to Rygard and his men. Getting the others back presented a new challenge.
She’d need another conversation with Bharguest. Hell, she’d need several.
* * *
“What’s the plan, Captain Rishkillian?”
Rygard sat on a stretcher in Kaitlyn’s Medical Bay. Kaitlyn had released the rest of his men to get some rest, bunked down with the rest of the military contingent. He’d insisted she see all of them first, so he still had an IV attached to his arm as she tended to the multitude of small cuts and Taser burns he’d taken during his captivity and viewed the blood samples she’d taken.
“My pilot, Tails, is running a scan for the emissions trail.” Dev leaned in the doorway, arms crossed as he watched Kaitlyn fuss with slide preparation.
“Pardon, Captain.” Badger’s voice came from the hallway.
Dev straightened and stepped back, revealing the grizzled non-commissioned officer with Bharguest a short distance behind him in the corridor flanked by his usual guards.
“I thought your medic should take a closer look at our prisoner.” Badger turned to the military escort and motioned them away. “You are dismissed. Lt. Rygard and I will escort the prisoner back to his holding cell after we’re through here.
Rygard watched the two military police leave. Too complacent.
Dev’s features were still arranged in a pleasant expression. “That so?”
“Aye.” Badger gave him a short nod. “Seems to me, our prisoner here has an interesting reaction to exposure to certain places on board, maybe people too.”
“And you want to test this exposure why?” Rygard asked the NCO.
Rygard tensed. If Petrico-Calin had ordered for the prisoner to be left alone with Kaitlyn...
Badger looked at each of them in turn, his eyes lingering on Kaitlyn for only a moment before returning to Rygard. “What did you say to your men before you sent them to their bunks?”
Rygard narrowed his eyes but gave him the answer. “We don’t leave our own behind. No matter how long it takes, we’ll go back after them.”
“Well, and you see, we’ve both been in the Service a while, seen a lot of missions.” Badger scratched at his chin. “Longer it takes, the less likely we’re bringing back friends and more chance we’re bringing back bodies.”
True.
Badger continued, “Information is what we need, and extensive planning. Seeing as you lot are the only people left awake and talking to each other, you’re the ones putting together plans.” He paused, stepped inside the Medical Bay and came to a stop in front of Rygard. “You’re an officer who looks out for his men. I mean to help you bring them back.”
Rygard gave the man a nod. No thanks between soldiers, not until they all came back. Instead, he watched Bharguest step into the Medical Bay and take a long, deep breath.
“Stand over there.” Despite the unconcerned tone of Kaitlyn’s voice, Rygard could tell she was struggling to hide the hint of steel at the edge of her words. “I’d like you where I can see you.”
Bharguest chuckled, a deep almost coughing sound, but he moved to the center of the room. He stood with shoulders relaxed, arms loose despite the heavy manacles at his wrists.
“Looks like we found the right place.” Tracer stood in the corridor, his big dog at his side.
“This isn’t a party.” Kaitlyn tapped a fingertip against her desk top. The sound was sharp, too loud for a human nail to be tapping at the Plexiglas surface.
“Well, Max is favoring his leg, so I hoped you might take a look.” Tracer stepped in with a nod to the Captain. “And considering the way we were sent on a wild goose chase down on the surface, I’d like to get a better idea of what we’re hunting in the next mission.”
“There’ll be a briefing.” Rygard glared at Tracer.
Tracer spread his hands wide. “There was a briefing last time too. This time, we’re tracking down further intel.”
Sensible. Rygard looked at Dev. He’d leave it to the Captain to decide.
“Barring additional interruptions, let’s get to the sharing of further intel, then.” Dev took up his position back at the door, eyes on the big prisoner. “Hassle is at the comm terminal seeing if he can intercept transmissions from the planet. We’re figuring they’ve got to report the escape to somebody. The intel will help give us a target.”
“All well and good.” Bharguest shrugged. “But if they were deliberately injected, there’s only one place they’d be headed.”
Rygard began to reply, but Dev beat him to it. “Feel free to share.”
“I can take you back to the holding cell.” Badger added with a growl.
The prisoner only smiled. The way those teeth shone so white against the dark of the man’s face creeped Rygard out and he never wanted to admit it.
“If you want to play games, at least make them quick ones.” Kaitlyn called from her seat at her lab desk where she loaded slides into a scanner. “Making us track down the info you already know is a waste of time and you’ll just be stuck on the ship staring at a pair of boring military guards.”
Bharguest tilted his head, considering. “They are less than entertaining lately.”
Kaitlyn only shrugged without looking up from her work. “Share more, talk more. It’s a win-win.”
Rygard didn’t like the way the other man paid so much attention to his girl. Still, for the time being, he was their most complete source of intel and Bharguest responded best to her. Dev had warned Rygard about the prisoner and that Kaitlyn had been going to Bharguest to learn what he knew. Nei
ther of them had expected Badger to bring the prisoner right into Kaitlyn’s room. But then, maybe the salty old NCO hadn’t realized Kaitlyn bunked in here.
“Outposts like the one you just infiltrated serve as supply sources for a bigger market.” Bharguest spoke directly to Kaitlyn.
At the mention of a market, she did look up from her analysis. “What kind?”
“It’s tailored to a specific clientele, the intergalactic high rollers with too many creds and not enough to occupy their time. It deals in fighters of every size, shape and species.” Bharguest glanced at Rygard and then returned his attention to Kaitlyn. “Normal humans don’t stand a chance, not against the other aliens they’ve collected, so the virus is used to make them a little more...interesting in the arenas.”
Rygard caught the warning look from Dev and kept his mouth shut instead of cutting in to ask Bharguest directly what he wanted to know. He’d have to follow Kaitlyn’s lead here and the lives of his men depended on her questions.
Kaitlyn rose from her work and came around to check his IV. Quietly, she said, “Another five minutes. I want to be sure we’ve hydrated you sufficiently to counteract the effects of several days’ dehydration. Your blood tests aren’t showing the presence of any toxins or virus, so you should be ready for active duty when it comes time to retrieve your men.” Then she turned her attention back to Bharguest. “So they’re collecting gladiators?”
“Exactly.”
“Seems inefficient. Any being fights harder when they want to fight. Slaves generally don’t by definition.” Kaitlyn continued to fuss over Rygard’s bandages, her fingertips fluttering over his skin.
Heat built inside him, not simply a side effect of near death experience. It’d been a long time since he’d seen her face to face and he’d missed her in more ways than he cared to analyze with a being like Bharguest standing in the room. No more talk of gladiators. Instead, the prisoner stared steadily at Kaitlyn in that creepy way of his.
The huge man chuckled, white teeth flashing again as he grinned. “Perfect. A perfect combination.”
“That so?” Dev interjected this time, redirecting the prisoner’s attention.
“Look at her.” Bharguest inclined his head toward Kaitlyn.
Rygard noticed the man never pointed, though he could have. The manacles shackling his wrists didn’t confine his fingers.
“Whoever branded her probably took credit, figured she was his work of art.” Bharguest shook his head. “But it’s a game of chance, the virus.”
“Why?” Rygard straightened. He suppressed the intense desire to reach out and try to shake what he wanted to know from the other man.
Bharguest only shook his head.
“The lycanthropy virus is a carrier for the genetic template of a specific species. Once the virus infects every cell, it has no way to replicate. It dies.” Kaitlyn picked up the explanation. “What’s left behind is a mutated cell, the actual genetic code altered to become a combination of the original host and the invading species.”
“How well the change takes and how complete the mutation is, there’s no way to predict.” Bharguest joined in again. “Me, I’m a changed man and I embrace the change. In others, what you see is what you get. They’re frozen in a single state. Static. But her, she can change at will from human to panther to any stage in between. She has control at the cellular level. She’s singular, a beautiful piece of chance.”
Tracer cleared his throat. “And the other men, what are their odds?”
Bharguest shrugged. “They’re made of tough stock. Soldiers are hardy. Most will survive the virus, but not like her. Nah. More likely they’ll be caught in a static state, some more beast and some more human. How well they use the altered physicality is up to them. Most go crazy without guidance.”
“Did you have guidance?” Dev seemed to know the answer, though he’d asked the question.
Bharguest only smiled.
“It’s gonna be tricky, infiltrating a place designed to house fighters.” Kaitlyn mulled over the challenge aloud as she cleaned up the remains of the medical supplies she’d used. “Fighters with animal senses are near impossible to get past undetected.”
She would know.
In the dark of the evening, he and his men could barely see to put one foot in front of the other. But she’d been able to see them all, herd them. Rygard remembered the run through the jungle, hearing her snarl coming from the shadows at intervals. She’d shoved more than one man away from natural deadfalls or dangerous quicksand, keeping them all on solid trails. None of them had been able to keep an accurate tag on her location and she’d managed every single one of them at a run. As grateful as Rygard was to her for getting his men to the ship, he couldn’t miss the fear in their eyes when they’d broken through the dense cover at the loading ramp. Not many would want to be alone in a room with her.
No doubt, she’d been a far scarier predator than their attackers.
He redirected his thoughts. “Those things back on the planet, you saw them?”
Badger answered. “We were all watching footage retrieved from the surveillance cameras by their man, Hassle, and the feed on the camera attached to her harness.”
Tracer nodded confirmation. Rygard glanced at Kaitlyn. No surprise on her face. She must have agreed to the visual feed. It explained why Bharguest knew so much about her shape change. She hadn’t lost the harness until she’d shifted completely. In fact, her change completed faster than the last time Rygard had seen her do it. He wondered how much practice she’d been putting in to fine tune her control.
“None of those shifted beyond their mutated form.” Kaitlyn came to stand next to Rygard, close but not quite shoulder to shoulder. “Intelligence seemed stunted too. Normal primates would have been smarter.”
“Low level grunts. There’s a lot of them in the arenas and they’re not expected to last long. In numbers, they’re a challenge for most, but other than that, they’re fodder for anything bigger and badder,” Bharguest confirmed.
“Submissive, every one of them.” Kaitlyn added the observation in a quiet murmur, as if thinking more to herself. “The idiot in charge wasn’t very dominant to begin with, but he still held position over all of them.”
“Could have been weak willed to begin with, before they were ever infected with the virus.” Rygard offered her his theory. “I don’t think dominance or submissiveness is something to be programmed into genetic code. It’s more than simple size, strength or speed.”
“You’re right, there.” Bharguest spoke directly to Rygard for the first time. “Dominance, being an alpha, is more than physical attributes. The virus can’t give it to you.”
“So those were infected and likely intended for the purpose they were used for, jumping potential new captives and bringing them in to the compound.”
“Yes.” Bharguest drew out the word. “Exactly. Most of the mutations are meant for a low or mid-level purpose. The arenas would be too dangerous if too many elite fighters surfaced at once.”
“So most of what we’d be facing in the arenas would be like those mutated simians.” She might not have found them a challenge, but Rygard’s men had. The simians were stupid, but still capable of overwhelming a man in hand to hand combat.
“The mid-levels are more of a challenge and on par with the majority of aliens brought in to fight.” Scratching his chin, Bharguest seemed to consider the numbers. “The elite fighters are usually a surprise, either a lucky find or a rogue mutation. The handlers are always looking to acquire more to replace the low to mid-levels, hope for a good find.”
“Doesn’t seem to be a good business model to have a constantly high death count.” Dev made the point in a light tone. Funny how he always seemed to be in a good mood, but his questions always flushed out more information than Rygard thought was possible.
“Not so many dead. A lot of them are maimed or mutilated, too broken to go on being of any use but to train up newcomers.” Flicking a bit of imaginary dust off his shoulder, Bharguest lowered his hands in front of him again. “They need a constant influx of new fighters to replace them, and to keep the crowds interested. Fresh entertainment.”
“That’s our way in then.” Dev nodded.
“Getting in won’t be a problem.” Kaitlyn didn’t bother to state the rest of the thought.
“My men would go in, despite the risk of being infected.” Rygard frowned as Kaitlyn shook her head.
“Save your men, Lieutenant.” Bharguest didn’t make the rank as much of an insult as he’d done earlier with Petrico-Calin. “They would just die in there without the aid of the virus. No. If we go in, it will be those of us already changed and a team ready to work with us.”
Kaitlyn remained silent, only looking to her captain.
“Volunteer basis only. There might be another way if we can intercept the ship before it arrives,” Dev answered her.
Not likely. The transport had too much of a head start, despite the speed Dev’s ship was capable of and the advantage of Bharguest’s knowledge. Rygard couldn’t ask any of his men to walk into a death trap either.
“We try to intercept and we’ll never know the location of the arenas.” Kaitlyn pointed out the bigger objective, Rygard’s original mission. “This will go on, with other human military teams, civilian colonies and who knows what other bystanders.”
“I escaped.” Bharguest rolled his shoulders. “But the location changed since. It was the first bit of intel I gave the powers that be when I tried to cut a deal for my freedom. They went in, found the place abandoned, said I needed to provide different information of value to go free. Wherever the arenas are now, they’ve only been there for a year, maybe two. I can help you get in and I can get out, but I can’t tell you exactly where to find them.”
