Farseek_Lietenant's Mate

by T. J. Quinn

  "All right, Chelle. I'll try." Tira nodded solemnly. A thin, tired looking, olive-skinned man came to her side. Tira turned and took his hand. "Marn, this is Chelle. I told you about her. She is the one who healed my nose after the Tregan hit me. She and her friend Kaara were good to me."

  Marn nodded curtly. Chelle sensed that he didn't trust her as completely as his wife did. She was both fair-skinned like the Tregans and a Psion. "I'm grateful for what you've done for Tira. I just hope the effort isn't wasted."

  "What do you mean?" Chelle asked and understood before he spoke the words.

  "After this is all over, we'll have to go back to Zevus Mar and pick up the pieces---if there is anything left," Marn said angrily. "This never should have happened. Sector Four is Federation Territory. All the signs pointed to a Tregan invasion, and the Federation did nothing to stop it until now. And now, it's too late."

  Marn swore, and tears came to his eyes. His grief touched Chelle and made her remember her own. Her eyes also grew moist as she understood how Marn had lost most of his family---his eldest wife, his parents, and two children. Tira and the two children who escaped with them were all he had left. Chelle nodded and brushed two tears from her face. She took Marn and Tira each by one arm and led them to some stationary seats along the wall. She settled them there with their two sons.

  Then she sensed Hankura's unspoken beckoning and turned. He was striding across the deck toward her. Chelle, I just got word from Delmran. The secondary boosters have shut down, and the Tregans are gaining on us. We have to fight.

  She frowned, and then a stricken look filled her eyes as she understood the rest:

  The deck lasers aren't working by remote. Delmran wants me to go up and see if I can work them manually before we need them. Seeing her worry, Hankura gripped her shoulders and hugged her close for a moment. There isn't anyone else. I don't want to leave you either---have to--- the whole top side open to attack.

  Chelle nodded her head against his shoulder and clung to him for just a second longer. Come back safe---no life without you.

  "I'm coming back, love. Count on it." He drew his finger gently across her gaunt cheek remembering how beautiful she was the first time he saw her in the forest back on Earth. He intended to see her that way again.

  Then he turned and walked away from her while he still could.

  In the cramped quarters of the upper-deck battle station, Hankura scanned the controls for the big guns. It took him only a few moments to find the problem. He had seen the same kind of circuit malfunction in his own spaceship's computer system. There were no spare circuits to be found, so he had to manually lock in the remote. He still wasn't sure it would work, so he stayed at the station to work the turret lasers from the manual control panel if the backup system failed. He reported his intentions to Captain Beras over the com.

  "Nice work, son," Beras responded. "You'd better find a pressure suit and get into it. That battle station doesn't offer you much protection, the hull could be breached. If that happens, I want you out of there on the double."

  "I understand," Hankura said. There were two pressure suits hanging from the bulkhead on his right. Either would fit. He glanced at the control panel, then got up and took one down to put it on.

  Down on the bridge, Beras turned to Dana. Her once curly blond hair was matted and dirty, her cheeks sunken. His mouth compressed into a thin line. All of his crew looked as bad or worse. It worried him. Were they strong enough to face the battle ahead? They had to be.

  "Dana, give Sager a status report," he began a new set of orders. "Jabe let me know the second they come into range. Delmran, get ready to fire as soon as they do. I don't expect them to take any prisoners after what we did down there. If they catch us this time, we're dead."

  "Thirty seconds and counting, sir," Jabe said.

  Perspiration broke out on the Captain's forehead---partly from tension and partly from physical strain. At eighty, he just wasn't as young as he used to be. He pulled out a ragged handkerchief and wiped his forehead. He'd never believed much in a supreme being in the past, but he decided it wouldn't hurt to say a little prayer just in case. They needed all the help they could get.

  "Ten seconds---still counting . . ." Jabe called out. "Seven . . . six . . . five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one. . .."

  "Fire!" Beras cried, and Delmran's finger drove the button into the console.

  All eyes went to the view screen, and no one seemed to breathe.

  "We have a direct hit on the forward vessel!" Jabe shouted. "It's breaking up!"

  He had barely finished speaking when the whole vessel gave a shudder. Momentarily, Kal came on the com. "Captain, that hit damaged the main drive engine. We're dropping power. The secondary thrusters will be expended in ten minutes. With the damage to the main drive, we can't recharge them."

  "Damn! How long to repair the damage?"

  "Half a day with replacement parts that we don't have."

  "Sweet Mother!" Beras muttered. "Do what you can."

  "The second ship is coming up on us in a hurry," Jabe said. He had barely finished speaking when they suffered a direct hit that shook the ship again. Some of the crew was knocked from their seats. Jabe scrambled to regain his post. "They're moving above us, sir."

  "Zukam!" Delmran swore in an alien tongue. "I've lost the deck lasers again."

  "Sir, Hankura is reporting the Tregan ship in visual range. He wants to know why we haven't fired." Dana interrupted.

  "Tregan refuse barge," Beras muttered. "Fire at will, Hankura," he shouted into the com. They waited.

  "A direct hit on the underbelly," Jabe reported, but their ship shuddered again. "Mother! The hull in the upper battle station's breached . . .."

  "Captain," Dana said, "I don't get any response from Hankura. I can't feel his telepathy, either . . .."

  "Goddess!" Delmran gasped as a shudder passed through the vessel with another hit. "The upper battle station is gone. Hankura . . .. Wait, I got 'im! He's okay. He got out in time and sealed off the section."

  "Right," Beras nodded. "He's going down to the conference room to be with his wife." He paused. "Cran, how are we now?"

  "Drifting, sir. We've barely enough power for life support. We can't fight off another attack."

  Beras swore. Goddess, how could they have come this far, only to become a helpless target for the Tregans? "Where the hell is Sager?"

  "I have visual on the Kena Warrior II," Jabe said. "They're closing on the Tregan vessel."

  "Put it on audio, Dana," Beras commanded.

  They all heard Sager's demand for surrender. The demand was answered by laser fire. In seconds, there was a silent, blinding flash. The last Tregan vessel exploded into debris.

  Then, Sager's image came on telcom screen. "How's that for timing?" he asked with a smug grin.

  "Too damn close, Sager!" Beras growled.

  "I'm sorry. It was the best I could do. What's your status, sir?"

  "This Tregan refuse barge isn't going anywhere without an overhaul."

  "I see. Prepare for docking, then. We'll find temporary quarters for your crew, and I'll have a team take care of that ship. Starbase ordered us to haul it in so they can have a look at the competition. The Tregans have been hitting little colonies like Zevus Mar all over this sector. We've had our hands full. The Admiral sends his regrets that we didn't get the reports until after they hit your ship."

  "Yeah, we fell right into it. We didn't have a chance," Beras said grimly.

  "An explorer against that fire power, I guess not," Sager agreed. "How the hell did you manage to break out of there anyway? Tregans are a bunch of ruthless barbarians. We've seen too much of their work already."

  "I know," Beras murmured. A muscle in his jaw twitched. "You'll have to talk to my Chief Medical Officer. He's the one who got us started."

  "I'll be damned. A Medical Officer?"

  "He's a unique man---nearly a grade nine telepath. You'll understand after you meet
him."

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Dubious Rescue

  Darkness had settled over the desert agricomplex several hours ago. Orin still wasn't back. Nalina was desperately worried. She sat huddled in the back of the pump house on Orin's air filled pallet with Lanimer sleeping beside her. She didn't dare turn on the light Orin had left them. It was safer in the dark.

  Lanimer stirred in his sleep, and Nalina cuddled him in her arms, clutching Orin's laser gun in one hand. In a while, her arms began to cramp, so she laid the child gently on the cushion beside her, covering him with Orin's field jacket. Then, she sat and waited some more.

  It was lonely in the dark with only the sound of hers and Lanimer's breathing for company.

  What if Orin never came back? The question raced through her mind over and over again. He had saved her life---hers and Lanimer's. She hadn't even thanked him. She never let Orin know that she appreciated the things he did for them.

  Nalina realized she'd never let herself see him as just a man. So, he was a Tregan. But he really was different from the others. She thought back over the things Orin told them about himself. She could see him in her mind's eyes being dragged from his home in chains by the Commander General's men. When brainwashing didn't work, they used pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. The word echoed through her mind.

  A lump filled Nalina's throat. How they must have hurt him! No, Orin couldn't be one of them. They had seen to that. She believed him, now. She cared. She must have stared into the darkness for hours, remembering everything that had happened since Orin rescued them. Alone in the dark, it was hard to fight the panic rising up inside her.

  He's dead. He must be dead. He would have come back by now. Mother of Life, where could he be? Finally, Nalina decided to wait until dawn, then go out and look for him---maybe bury him. She nearly sobbed aloud at the thought. She wouldn't let Orin Hart rot in the hot desert sun. The last thought comforted her little as she drifted into a restless sleep with the laser gun still clutched in her hand.

  A sound. The metal door grated against the concrete floor, and Nalina sat bolt upright. Instinctively, she raised the gun and took aim at the bulk of man filling the doorway. She didn't notice at first that he was leaning heavily to one side against the frame. Nor could she see his face against the sunlight streaming through the doorway.

  "Aw, hell!" he said in a raspy voice. He stood his ion rifle in the corner by the door. "I was fool enough to hope you might be glad to see me."

  Nalina's mouth dropped open. She tried to speak, but no sound came out. Still, she held the laser aimed at his massive chest.

  "Hey, if you don't want me here, just say so. I'll go. You don't have to shoot me."

  The gun fell from her hands. "Orin!" she whispered. Nalina jumped up and launched herself at him. She nearly knocked him down as she threw her arms around his neck. "Orin---I thought they killed you." She pressed her cheek against his throat and started to cry. "You should have let me help you. I could have done more than just wait." She pressed her lips against his Adam's apple.

  Slowly, wondrously, he put his arms around her. His thigh burned and ached, but he didn't care. It felt so good to hold her; he wanted to savor the moment. So many times, he'd longed to hold her. He wasn't sure she was real.

  Nalina stopped crying and pulled back to look up at him. "Are they gone? Are you all right?"

  "Yes---not exactly," he said quietly in Zevian.

  They were gone, all right. Orin had killed them one by one and then loaded their bodies into their own transporter. He sent them back to Elran by way of Lake Lessat, 250 kilometers north of their agricomplex. Elran was 60 klicks south. When he finished, exhaustion overcame him, and he took refuge in some rocks for the night. It took him until dawn to find the strength to hobble back to the pump house.

  "I mean, they're gone but, I'm not exactly all right." In truth, he could barely stand, yet he didn't want to let her go. He needed her warmth to shield him from the terrible things he'd done to keep them all alive.

  "You're not?" Nalina finally assimilated what he'd said. "Where are you hurt?" She pulled back to get a better look at him, her eyes anxious with concern. Her gaze fell on his thigh where the heavy fabric of his trousers was burned away. His flesh was charred and oozing. Nalina gasped.

  Orin grinned weakly. "Don't worry. It looks a lot worse than it is." He started limping toward his pallet where Lanimer was slowly rousing from sleep.

  The boy greeted Orin with a gleeful smile. "I knew you'd make it," he cried and hugged Orin fervently.

  "I'm glad somebody did." Orin hugged him back then flopped over on his uninjured side. He'd never been so tired in his life. He wanted to say so much to Nalina, to feel her soft warmth in his arms again. He just didn't have the strength. Orin started to close his eyes, then opened them again as Nalina knelt on the pallet beside him. She'd found some burn salve in his pack, and she seemed determined to apply it to his ugly wound. Though he gritted his teeth at the searing pain, he had to smile, listening to Nalina heartily curse the Tregans for nearly killing him. She used the same curses on him barely half a month before.

  If only he weren't so damn tired. The salve soothed his pain nearly as soon as it was applied. Orin sighed, and his eyelids drooped shut. Orin felt her lips softly touch his cheek, and then her breath tickled his ear as sleep drugged his mind. "Sleep well, Orin. Sleep well." She paused and let out an uneven sigh. "I love you."

  Before he could answer, she jumped up. He heard the pump house door scrape shut, and Orin groaned. She hadn't given him the chance to tell her---he loved her, too.

  Orin didn't realize until hours later when he finally came back to the world of the living that Nalina already knew.

  The Searching Star's crew and the Zevian refugees comprised a motley group as they boarded the Kena Warrior II from the Tregan warship. The crew men were dressed in what was left of their dirty uniforms, worn since their capture, and the Zevian men were in rags. The women were clad in makeshift wraps of coarse muslin. They had surrendered their ion rifles, but many of them still carried laser guns slung over their hips. Their synthetic service boots were all that was left of their uniforms. The Zevian women were barefoot. All the escapees were tired and dirty, but the Zevian children looked most pathetic. Actually, they were in the best physical condition. Quarters---complete with showers and fresh clothing---were assigned as they came aboard. Some of the group was channeled through sick bay, first.

  Hankura was summoned to the bridge by Commander Sager. The order thoroughly annoyed him. He wanted to go with Chelle to sickbay. She wanted to go with him, but she hadn't the strength. Military protocol forced Hankura to leave her in the hands of a morbidly curious Med-Tech who irritated him further. He stalked onto the bridge and scowled at the crew members who stared at him. He was too concerned about his wife to realize they stared in awe of him. Even Commander Sager didn't quite know what to make of him.

  "I know why you wanted to see me," Hankura blurted. "They killed our friends. They were killing her slowly, day by day. I could feel her pain. I couldn't let them hurt her anymore." Remembering brought a lump to his throat and a moist haze to his eyes. He couldn't say anymore. He didn't need to. The news about how he'd fought his way out and freed the others had reached the bridge before Hankura.

  Sager stared at Hankura, his brows wrinkled in a thoughtful frown. The physician was tall, and lean but muscular with disheveled umber hair, a scraggly beard and flashing emerald-green eyes. Rumors said he was a telepath---psi-mated to one of the crew women. Yes, that would explain a lot. Sager nodded, his gaze unwavering from Hankura's smoldering look. Captain Beras hadn't exaggerated at all.

  Hankura sensed Sager was about to dismiss him, and he tensed, ready to bolt as soon as the other man spoke the words. As Sager drew his breath to speak, he was interrupted. Hankura groaned aloud.

  "Sir, there's a disturbance in sick bay. One of those women is holding a Med-Tech and two security guards at bay with a laser. She downed one m
an with psi. Paltrin wants to know what to do."

  "Sager, let me go to her," Hankura said before the commander could speak. "My wife is upset and in shock. She hasn't hurt anyone. Please."

  "By all means." Sager nodded his dismissal. "We'll talk more at debriefing after we get back to Kena."

  Hankura was already entering the down tube. He sensed the some of the crew staring at him, their awe and respect tinged with fear. They were beginning to realize what a dangerous man he could be. Even Hankura didn't realize until the last few hours. He just knew that Chelle needed him.

  There was a crowd of Med-Techs and security personnel at the doorway of Treatment Room Three when Hankura got there, blocking his path to Chelle. He sensed that she was very near the edge. Much more stress might push her into a mental breakdown. "Get out of here, all of you," he commanded. When they didn't move, he pushed his way through. Then, the laser she held was pointed at him instead of them.

  "Come on, Chelle. Put that away." He moved toward her with his hand outstretched.

  Chelle blinked and seemed to shake herself mentally. Lowering the weapon into his hand, she began to tremble. Her legs started to fold under her. Hankura tossed the weapon to a security guard behind him and lunged to catch Chelle before she fell.

  "Keep them away from me, Hankura. Don't let them touch me. Promise you won't," she pleaded.

  He lifted her into his arms. I promise. But, She-ell---you shouldn't let them upset you. They're not used to people like us. They don't understand.

  I wish I hadn't read them, bleeping perverts. If they think torture and rape are erotic, they should try the receiving end. I should have burned them all!

  Tempting, but it wouldn't make them understand any better. Hankura set her on the examining table then went back to close the door to the three still standing there.

  Chelle sighed and lay down, closing her eyes wearily. Of course, he was right.

  "You're still bleeding." There were blood spots on the floor where she was standing, and he felt her growing weaker.