by Linda Mooney
Chapter 25
Punishment
The shuttle bay on the Var Yuheri was open and awaiting their arrival. Kelen set the craft inside and powered down as the bay doors rumbled close. Before she undid her harness, Seneecian troops were pouring inside and surrounding the shuttle as they kept their blasters aimed at the craft.
Kyber squared his shoulders. Taking a deep breath, he gave her one more loving glance. “Be brave, my one,” he whispered, then slapped the panel to open the airlock.
The attack was swift and brutal. Kelen cried out as several pairs of hands, their lethal claws fully extended, reached through the doorway and latched onto Kyber. He was jerked out of the shuttle, to be immediately replaced by several men who rushed inside the craft for her.
Two of them grabbed her, hauling her out of her seat. She didn’t struggle, didn’t fight them, hoping that by not showing any resistance they would lose some of their aggression. She was mistaken. She’d forgotten the fact that these were the Seneecians she’d come to loathe for their barbarian attitudes and single-minded viciousness.
She was thrown over one man’s shoulder and removed from the shuttle, but they went no further than the bay when she was slammed onto the floor. She landed hard on her side and shoulder, sending pain shooting through her body. She tried to roll onto her stomach to sit up, when she caught sight of a hand coming down, claws extended. She ducked, when another hand swiped across her back. She heard the sound of her uniform ripping. At the same time, hot agony streaked across her upper shoulders. Kelen screamed, and another hand shredded more of her uniform down her side. Razor sharp tips plowed furrows into her waist, hip, and upper thigh. She was aware of the feel of warm blood sliding over her chilled skin.
Shrieks and angry growls grew louder, filling the chamber. A few meters away she caught a glimpse of many Seneecians brutally clawing and hacking at Kyber, who rolled on the floor, unable to stop the attack. Blood and black fur flew in the air, and she yelled Kyber’s name a second before she was backhanded across the face.
At that moment she realized that docility would not work. These men had been given the authority to do whatever they wished, or they were following orders to degrade and debase her as they saw fit. She tried to rise again, when another hand came down to tear more of her uniform and skin. Shifting into survival mode, she flipped onto her back, raised her feet, and hammered the attacking Seneecian in the center of his chest. Her unexpected attack momentarily stunned them, giving her the advantage she’d been seeking.
Rolling over, she scuttled directly into the midst of the crowd of Seneecians attacking Kyber. Hitting the backs of their legs with her shoulders, she managed to trip and knock over two men. One set of bloodied claws came down across her buttocks, slicing the rest of her uniform from her body, and leaving deep grooves in the muscle. She jerked in reaction but forced herself to keep going.
Kyber lay face down and semi-conscious on the floor. His body was sprawled in ways that gave her the initial impression that some of his bones had been broken. Little remained of his uniform that had been slashed into pieces.
Scrambling into the thick of their attacks, she threw herself over her husband’s back, shielding him from any further brutality. Another clawed hand barely grazed over her head. There was a hard jerk of her head, nearly wrenching her neck from her spine, and she saw her braid go flying away.
The Seneecians paused at this unexpected turn. As they stood around her, she peered over her shoulder in anger.
“Stop! Cease this! He is my Confirmed! I am his Confirmed!”
She knew they understood her. Their confused expressions proved it as they breathed heavily from their exertions. One Seneecian stepped forward and raised a hand again, when she yelled at him.
“Touch me again, and you will answer to the Terran Grand Council…Por Venosh!”
The Seneecian froze, unable to believe she’d referred to him by his rank. He clapped his hand over the emblem carved into his pectoral muscle.
Another Seneecian sneered, his eyes roaming over her nude body. “Another skint lie,” he remarked in his native language.
Kelen blinked and pressed her lips together. She couldn’t reveal the fact that she understood them. Instead, she bent over Kyber and tried to protect him from further injury. Huge patches of skin and fur had been flayed from his body. Blood matted and stiffened what remained of his pelt.
He moaned in pain. She couldn’t tell if he was aware of her presence, or even halfway cognizant. She watched as he managed to lift his head, and she couldn’t help but cry out in shock to see the damage done to his face. One of his eyes had been torn from the socket, and bits of his teeth lay in the pool of blood around his mouth. She sobbed, her anger rising at what they’d done, and she glared at them.
“You weren’t supposed to kill him! He’s done nothing to you! Nothing! He’s not a traitor! You all have been lied to! D’har Duruk has been lying to you!”
One Seneecian turned to another. “Is the D’har on his way?”
“He is aware of the situation,” a response came.
“I say we continue. Take them both down,” another snarled.
“Hold.” It was an authoritative voice. Kelen kept her face bent over Kyber and didn’t look up at where it originated.
“We are not finished with the traitor!” someone argued.
“We will not proceed further until we receive word from D’har Stek or D’har Duruk,” the commanding voice continued.
“Are you believing the lies of this skint whore?” a voice demanded.
There followed several seconds of icy silence. When the imposing voice spoke again, the tone said much more than the words.
“Tell me, Por Venosh Kood, if she was not his Confirmed, why would she accompany him here? Why would the Por D’har bring her with him?”
“She was his prisoner,” a voice snapped.
“Kith Elars, you went into the shuttle to retrieve her. Where did you find her?”
“She was…she was in the pilot chair.”
“Was she bound?”
“No.”
“What is going on? Why have I been summoned?”
This last voice was familiar, and Kelen raised her tear-stained face to find Duruk striding toward them. The Seneecians parted to allow the D’har inside the circle. The man paused next to where she and Kyber lay on the floor.
“Please,” she begged, not caring whether or not her actions would demean her in their eyes. “Please. Help him. He’s dying.”
Duruk whirled on the men. “You were told not to kill him!”
“He’s not dead…yet,” one Seneecian smirked.
Giving a roar of fury, Duruk pulled his blaster from his hip holster and fired at the man. A bright white pulse hit the Seneecian in the neck. It exploded, sending blood and flesh arching through the air, splattering the other men. The Seneecians jumped, but no one protested.
“Your orders were not to kill him,” Duruk repeated, bearing his teeth. Glancing again at Kelen, he made a motion with his other hand. “Take him up to the medical bay. Take both of them. Have their wounds tended, but keep them under guard.” He gave the rest of the men one final hard stare. “No one touches either of them again unless I give direct orders. Is that clear?”
“Yes, D’har!” the men chanted in unison and saluted him.
Satisfied, Duruk cast her an unfathomable grin, turned, and exited the bay. Kelen bent back over her husband, not daring to move until the medical techs arrived to load Kyber onto a stretcher.
No one tried to stop her as she followed them out of the bay.
Chapter 26
Medical
She refused to leave his side, even though every inch of her body burned. There was little left of her uniform. After an accompanying guard trod on one of the strips of fabric that clung to her boots and trailed behind her, she pulled her feet out of them, leaving her totally naked. A couple of times she slipped and nearly fell when she stepped on a patch of
blood and her foot slid out from under her, but she managed to stay upright. No one offered a hand to help or dared to touch her, much less speak to her.
One medical tech tried to shove her out of the way, to prevent her from walking at Kyber’s side, but Kelen resisted, giving him an angry, determined look. “I am his Confirmed. I know my rights,” she firmly stated. In truth, she didn’t know if she had the right to stay with her husband, or if she had any rights at all, especially since she was a Terran. But she knew Seneecians held in high esteem those who showed bravery and determination, and she was banking on that. Luckily, the tech didn’t make any further attempts to shoo her away.
Once they were inside the medical lab, Kyber was placed underneath a sterile dome. Only then did she move to one corner of the room and park herself on the floor where she could keep a close eye on her husband’s unconscious figure. The floor was cold, and sitting on her lacerated buttocks was painful, but she refused to ask for help for herself.
A Seneecian came to stand guard over her. She couldn’t tell whether he was there to protect her, or to prevent her from going off on her own. Irritation made her grimace.
“What? Do you think I’m going to attack someone in my present condition?” she muttered, not caring if he heard her or not. “I’m naked, I’m cold, I’m hurt, and I’m bleeding. How much danger can I be to any of you?”
Lifting her knees, she wrapped her arms around them and lowered her face. She was shivering. Compounded with the fact that her wounds were still bleeding, she was beginning to feel lightheaded. Every time she moved, the slashes in her flesh reopened, sending fresh waves of agony through her. She had no way of knowing where the worst of the lesions were located. She was cut and stabbed on her arms, legs, thighs, hips, buttocks… If there was anything to be grateful for, it was the fact that she was in the medical bay and not left to suffer in the shuttle bay.
Lifting her face, she looked up at the sterile dome. From where she sat, the only part of Kyber that she could see was the soles of his feet. At some point his boots had been removed. She squinted slightly. The bottom of his feet were also furred. Funny, she’d never realized that before now. It would explain why he’d been able to walk over the ice and snow barefooted. Until now, she’d assumed they were void of any hair.
That means there isn’t a spot on him where he doesn’t have a pelt, she gathered. The only exception was his penis, and that really didn’t count as it came from within his genital cavity. She couldn’t help but smile, remembering how his lightest touch always tickled, whether he was using his hand or the tip of his claws. Sleeping on or against him was like being wrapped in the softest blanket.
“Get well, my one. Don’t leave me. Don’t let them win,” she whispered.
A pair of legs stopped in front of her. Kelen glanced up to see a medical tech holding out what appeared to be a towel or some sort of wrapping to her. She took it with a word of thanks. It turned out to be a length of thin cloth. Not knowing if she was supposed to wear it or mop up the blood beneath her, she opted to tie it around her. If they wanted her to clean up the mess, they’d need to give her another one to use.
The tech walked away, but another Seneecian replaced him. She started to ignore the man when he spoke directly to her.
“Terran, what shall we call you?” He spoke Terranese.
Surprised, she stared at him, noting his rank. It wasn’t one she recognized, which meant he wasn’t an officer. “I am Kelen. Who are you?”
“Ambrun Goolith.”
“Forgive me. I’m not familiar with that rank.”
The man appeared to hide a smile. “It is not a rank. It is a designation. Ambrun means I am a scientist. In this case…” He pointed to a portion of his emblem. “This shows I work in medical.”
She gave a nod. “Oh. Like a doctor. A medical professional.” She pointed to the sterile dome. “How is my husband?”
“He is…” Goolith paused, uncertain how to continue.
She sat up straighter. “Will he live?”
“I cannot give you that reassurance.”
Kelen tried to get to her feet, but she’d lost too much blood. Her legs went out from under her and she started to fall, when a pair of hands grabbed her by the shoulders. Goolith immediately lifted her into his arms and carried her over to another medical bed, laying her across it. When the Seneecian stepped away, his arms and the front of his uniform were smeared with her blood.
A sterile dome slowly descended over her. Kelen closed her eyes and succumbed to the computer’s examination. Above the bed’s soft hum she caught the sound of voices. The translator buzzed softly due to interference. The bed beneath her was warm, comfortable. She was about to drift off when the voices increased in volume.
Kelen peeked through her lashes to spot the physician and hopefully see what the man was doing. She found him standing near the doorway. D’har Duruk was there, along with two other Seneecians. She assumed one of them to be D’har Stek. They were deep in conversation, frequently glancing at her and Kyber, and a few times waving a hand in her direction. From their facial features and body language, it appeared they were at odds with each other.
The computer finished its analysis of her condition. The hum ceased. Her ear bud instantly resumed working.
“—return her injured? I cannot deny her treatment.”
“Her injuries are her fault. She chose to board this ship without permission.”
The translation bud didn’t differentiate between voices. Everything came out in the same monotone, but it wasn’t too difficult to tell who was saying what.
“The skint claims to be the Por D’har’s Confirmed.”
“Skints lie. Do not believe anything she says.”
“Then why did she come with him?”
“To spy on us?”
“Or he was using her as his concubine.” The Seneecian laughed. The translator interpreted it with the sound of uh, uh, uh.
“She defends him. She acts like one who is Confirmed.”
“It is an act. The sooner we are rid of her, the sooner we can return to Seneecia and dispose of the traitor’s body where the populace can cheer his demise.”
A voice came over inter-ship communications, addressing D’har Stek. The man went over to the wall to answer it. The translator was unable to hear Stek’s conversation, but when he was finished, he signaled to Duruk, and the two D’hars left the room.
Goolith walked over to her dome, noticing she was still awake. After a quick examination of her readout, a frown crossed his face, which quickly disappeared. “How are you feeling?” he asked through the transparent covering. Kelen noted he spoke Seneecian and continued to stare up at him without replying.
The man touched the side of his head where the entrance to his inner ear canal was located, as Seneecians did not have a distinguishable outer ear or lobe. “The computer has tagged a device in your ear,” he continued in Seneecian. “I am guessing it is a translator.” When Kelen continued to remain mum, he nodded. “Do not worry. I will not betray your secret.”
Unable to resist, she retorted. “Why not? I am your enemy.” She could sense a fine mist being released into her dome. Its slightly antiseptic odor told her she was being cleansed to prevent her wounds from becoming infected. It also turned her muscles into jelly, and she could feel herself drifting off again.
“Your bravery,” Goolith replied as she gradually lost consciousness. “Only a Confirmed would accompany her mate into death’s mouth.”
The mist overtook her before she had the chance to respond.
Chapter 27
Gone
Kelen had no idea how long she was unconscious. She remembered dreaming, although very little of what she’d dreamed remained with her. Those that did were mostly about the brutality Kyber had suffered. At times, she fought to go to him, but was unable to because talons the size of a planet tore through her, pinning her to the floor like spikes. Claws became bars, closing over her, caging her. Teeth emer
ged from clouds of black smoke that lunged at her.
There were screams and so much blood. Jagged ends of bones jutted from his arms and lower legs. His once beautiful mouth gaped open, split and bleeding as the stubs of his sharp teeth gleamed pinkly in his lacerated gums.
But her worst horror was the empty eye socket as he lay there semi-conscious. His other eye, its forest green iris clouded with unmentionable pain, stared unseeing at the bay’s ceiling.
She knew she wept, but she had no memory of crying out. She was trapped in mental hell, and there was no escape.
It was with blessed relief that the nightmares finally retreated. She heard a hiss, then the familiar pop of the sterile dome as it lifted from the bed. Struggling to wipe away the last of her medically-induced coma, Kelen peeled her eyes open to find herself staring up at Ambrun Goolith’s butter yellow and white striped countenance.
Once the dome ascended high enough, the medical tech reached over and dabbed her face with a warm, wet cloth. “Slowly,” he murmured in Terranese. “Take deep breaths to expel the last of the mist. Do not worry if you feel faint. It is natural.”
“How long have I been out?” Lifting a hand to her head, she was shocked to feel the locks abruptly slide out from between her fingers. She’d forgotten her braid had been sliced away, leaving the rest of her hair short and uneven.
“Almost twelve cycles,” the man answered. “Calculated in your days, approximately two weeks.”
“Am I well?”
“Your wounds are closed and almost completely healed. Try to rise.” The medical tech reached for her to help her sit up.
Still groggy, she managed to balance herself on the edge of the bed, letting her legs dangle over the side. She shivered from the sudden cold after lying warm under the dome. It brought to her attention that she no longer wore the thin covering.
“Can you stand?” Goolith took her by the elbow. Kelen paused and turned around to look at Kyber.
“How is—”
The bed was empty.
She nearly fainted. “No! No!”
