Vall's Will Read online

  “Then let’s go look for them,” Will ordered. “Plymon, do you have coordinates on their locations?” She glanced over to see him staring at the main console. Pulling a small object from a pocket on his jumpsuit, he dropped it onto the board. The little round drainer spread its tiny tripod legs before digging them into the metal. Once it was firmly set, the Sub-captain called to the ship.

  “Drainer’s been activated. Granth, are you reading?”

  “Uploading as we speak.”

  “Good.” The man turned around, and Will saw the small blue screen wavering in front of his eyes. If she wanted, she could spend the big credits to have that kind of bio-engineering adjustment made to her aura. She had the credentials as a captain, which meant she wouldn’t need to seek approval before having the procedure. But for some reason she had held off, promising herself she’d do it the next time they had an extended shore leave.

  “Have you located the other life forms?”

  “Locked on them, Captain.”

  “Great. You take the lead.”

  The Sub-captain nodded and took off in a different direction than the one they had used to enter the bridge. He moved with long, comfortable strides, forcing the rest to hurry to keep up with him. However, Will rather enjoyed the brief glimpses of watching Plymon’s ass as he surveyed the ship. Already she could feel the first inner crawlings of desire between her legs. Once this assignment was over, she figured she’d nab him and haul him off to her bunk for some quick, rough sex. It would be the perfect cap to this day.

  They found their first cluster of life forms near a cargo bay. They were Anglites, three of them, all wrapped around each other in the corner of one small chamber. They peered up at Will and her men when they entered, stark fear reflected in their triangular eyepods.

  “We mean you no harm,” she started to say.

  “We know,” one Anglite replied as the cluster visibly relaxed. “You are Nion, yes?

  “Yes. We’re Nion warriors. I’m Captain Tayte. You are Anglites, correct?”

  The older one held out a hand, which Will accepted. She knew the being would only feel a soft contact, like holding an invisible cushion, but these individuals were known to be a gentle race. They needed to touch to assure themselves of the other’s sincerity and intent. As the four-digit hand pressed hers, the fear faded from all three creatures’ prismatic faces

  “Why are you here?” she asked.

  “We were traveling in the Uvar Nebula when we were attacked. We’ve been waiting to see what the Ben Objure would do with us.”

  “Have the Objurians treated you fairly?” Plymon inquired.

  The elderly one lowered his angular face. His stalked eyes drooped. “They fed us on occasion,” he softly confessed through their translators.

  Behind her, Will heard a couple of whispered curses. They echoed what she was feeling. The Ben Objure were never kind to their captives, and only provided as little as was necessary to keep their victims alive before either selling them, or disposing of them in other ways―a couple of which Will had personally witnessed, and still had nightmares about.

  “You don’t have to worry anymore,” she assured them with a warm smile. “We will see to it you are given a good meal, and enough supplies to suffice until you reach wherever you need to go. Peersoff?”

  The head of security had Beese help the three creatures out of their quarters and return with them to the Trinity. Will watched the poor beings limp away. “Beese, have Killjorn inspect them for wounds and diseases. Granth, have you gotten all this?”

  Two voices replied in the affirmative simultaneously.

  “That’s three out of twelve,” Plymon stated. “I have the coordinates for the next lot.”

  “How many?”

  She saw him frown. “I’m not certain. Four or five, maybe six. It’s hard to distinguish when they’re huddled together.” He gave a little shake of his head. “This ship does strange things to the readings, but I think they’re Kordorphats.”

  Someone behind her murmured, “Someone’s going to have a nice lunch!” Will smiled to herself.

  “Let’s hurry. If we keep strolling through this place like we’re on a casual jaunt, it could mean a loss of life. We need to be quick and stay vigilant.”

  The men nodded, understanding. Time was as much an enemy as the Ben Objure.

  One level down, they found a hold of four creatures they knew as Kordorphats. The chunky beings were non-intelligent, and many species used the creatures as a food source. Will assumed the Kordorphats were there as cargo, rather than captives. Unlike the Anglites, these movable lumps of solid protein were well cared for. Even their pen looked like it had been recently cleaned.

  “We’ll take these with us before we leave. Where next?”

  “Next level down. One being. I think it’s the humanoid.”

  “How many levels does this place have?” Peersoff asked.

  “Too fekking many, for my tastes,” Will answered, going back into the corridor. “Let’s hurry this up. This ship is starting to make me uneasy. Makes me want to rip it open and let the starlight flood in.”

  No matter how many times she’d been inside an Objurian ship, she detested the airless, utterly black interior. Even the darkest parsecs of space were punctured with billions upon billions of brightness. But here, it was too much like death to her.

  Plymon brushed past her, their shields barely grazing. The contact has been deliberate, as the touching of two auras sent a warm vibration through her, and she smiled. Maybe he was thinking the same thing she was. Nothing like a heady fekk to chase away the demons in her dreams.

  They moved together like a single flame of light. It soon became apparent there was no need to remain cautious of unseen danger. There were no other Objurians ready to pounce on them from shadowy corners. No risk of attack. Plymon knew exactly where every life form was located. And because the forms never moved from their locations in the deepest part of the ship, Will knew the others were most likely prisoners, and not part of the enemy’s crew, as first suspected.

  They passed through what felt like an invisible dome. Their innate armor naturally adjusted for the difference. As soon as they were inside, Gorin remarked, “It smells nasty down here.”

  Will agreed. There was an atmosphere in this section, which meant whatever was in the hold was an air breather. However, the air was rank. Stagnant. Uncirculated. Thick with carbon dioxide, as well as another stench. No telling how long it had been like this, or how long the life forms had been breathing the thinning oxygen.

  Plymon paused in front of a large panel. “Found it.”

  “And it’s locked,” Peersoff noted.

  Will stared at the panel in surprise. “What do you mean it’s locked?”

  All cargo and bay areas were sealed anyway, to prevent leakage. The Anglites and Kordorphats had been shut inside their holding cells, but the only way they could have escaped would have been with the help of someone from the outside. Nothing was ever locked. Locking it was a doubled precaution, and usually meant that whatever was inside was too dangerous to risk having it escape.

  Her men looked at her, waiting for her decision. She lifted her arm and made a fist. The armor turned a dark red as she pointed it toward the entrance and nodded.

  Peersoff stepped forward and placed a grinder on the locking mechanism. The tiny robot began drilling into the metal, sending out a high, thin screeching sound that always set Will’s teeth on edge. Once the lock was deactivated, the others raised their arms.

  The security officer placed his fingers inside the narrow space between the panel and the frame, and shoved the door aside. Immediately, everyone shone their lights inside in a wide arc.

  “What the fekk?”

  Plymon’s soft oath of confusion echoed exactly what she was thinking. The life form lay huddled in the far corner of the tiny room. It raised a human-like hand up to shield its eyes from the glare. The next moment, realizing they were not Objurian, it t
ried to retreat even further into the corner, clasping its legs in front of itself and burying its face against its knees. Balled up, it started to shiver.

  “By all the stars…it’s a man!” The whisper came from the communications bud in her ear. The rest of her crew watching their exploration normally kept radio silence, as she ordered. In this instance, she thought the voice belonged to Magnus.

  Peersoff moved toward the creature. Immediately, it whimpered and turned sideways. It held up a grimy hand again, as if it would ward off the new intruders. Something glinted in the dim light.

  “Oh, fekking grace!” a voice exclaimed in disbelief.

  “Dearest gods in space, what have those bugs done to him?” Plymon wondered aloud, voicing her exact thoughts.

  “They chained him?” Peersoff took another step, but it was clear by the prisoner’s reactions that the man was terrified. He reached toward the man. “It’s all right. We’re here to free you.”

  Instead of relenting, the man tried to retreat as far back into the corner of his little room as the chains would allow. Will gave the floor a cursory examination. The cell couldn’t have been more than a ten meters long, and half of that wide.

  A soft whimper drew her attention back to the prisoner. Every time Peersoff tried to reach for the manacles around the poor man’s wrists, the humanoid moved away. Maybe she knew why.

  “Let me,” she ordered.

  The security chief gave her a questioning look.

  “I’m dropping my shield,” she added.

  “Might I suggest you don’t?” Clearly, he didn’t like the idea.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll still keep my arm trained on him.”

  Peersoff stepped back, and Will took his place in the doorway. The prisoner continued to stare at them from the rear of the cell.

  The moment she lowered her aura from around her head, the putrid stench of the place smacked her in the face, and she nearly gagged. Now she understood why they had detected the foul smell.

  The man’s eyes widened as she moved into the cell. She kept her weaponed arm trained in his direction, but she held out her other hand toward him, removing the armor from around it as well so he could see she was a humanoid, too.

  “We’ve found a reference to him,” Granth informed her.

  She smiled at the man. “You have nothing to worry about. We’re here to rescue you.” She made sure to keep her voice low and soothing. More than that, she tried not to think about what the creature had gone through while on the ship. It was miracle he could live in these conditions.

  He glanced down at her glowing red arm, then back up to her face. Will dropped the weapon from her aura, causing her men behind her to gasp in shock. If her helmet was back up, she could imagine what they would say to her. Are you insane, opening yourself up like that? Making yourself vulnerable?

  Shut up. I know what I’m doing…I hope.

  “Granth, what have you got?” she inquired gently, taking another step.

  “His name is Vall.”

  “Do we have a species?”

  “Not yet. Objurian is fekking difficult to decipher.”

  “How about some information about where they found him? Or when they took him in custody?”

  “I’ll let you know when I find something,” the communications officer promised.

  “Vall.” Will said the name aloud and watched for a reaction. The man didn’t respond, but he didn’t appear to be as terrified as he had been initially.

  She slowly reached out until her fingertips touched the freezing cold metal cuffs. Vall’s eyes darted from what she was doing, to her face, and back, in rapid succession. It appeared he was willing to trust her, but as to how far, she had yet to discover. Apparently her revealing her humanity had been the right decision, although it was a reaction she had never resorted to before in her career, or her lifetime.

  Rather than rewrap her entire arm in her shield, she opted for just her hand. Bringing his arm out toward her, she reached over with her weapon and drew a line of plasma with one finger. The metal dissolved almost instantly. The cuff broke apart with a snap.

  Will smiled up at the man. “One down, one to go.”

  Without her urging, he presented his other arm to her. The other cuff was dissolved within seconds, followed by the ones around his ankles. Vall threw the chains to the floor with a look of disgust.

  She winced to see the bruised skin and old scars evident on his wrists and legs. A couple of spots appeared to be festering. There was no telling how much longer the man would have been able to survive in these conditions.

  She straightened, or tried to. The ceiling was too low for her to stand up.

  “Vall, come.” She remained barely a meter away from him with her hand outstretched. Slowly, and with much hesitation, Vall uncurled himself until his feet touched the floor.

  He was completely nude, and in the glow from their auras, from what she could see underneath the unbelievable filth, his whole body was marked with bruises and scars. His hair hung in thick, clotted strands down to his waist. He had no beard or facial hair, which automatically eliminated him as being one of the Terran species of humanoids. Taking a deep breath, she tried not to gag, and gestured again as she took a step backwards.

  “Vall, come.”

  He finally stood. As she’d suspected, he was taller than her, meaning he had to bend at the waist. Even hunched over, his shoulders brushed the ceiling.

  She continued to retreat from the cargo area, calling to him and gesturing for him to follow. Vall’s gaze never wavered from his face as he left the bay. Once they were outside of the container, the young man straightened. He watched as Will’s men moved closer, but his initial fear seemed to have diminished for the moment.

  “Peersoff, follow us back to the ship. Plymon, I want you and Gorin to go ahead. I don’t want him to feel threatened. He’s been terrified long enough.”

  Plymon started to turn around and leave when Granth’s strident yell through their shields froze them in their tracks.

  “Self-destruct has activated!”

  Everyone took off running for the upper levels and the exit. Will grabbed Vall’s hand, but the man was already half-dragging her as he hurried to remain behind the Sub-captain. She had no chance to wonder how he knew about the danger.

  “How long before it goes?” she yelled.

  “Now!”

  There was no time to think. The ship was detonating around them. The only way they could survive would be to draw their armor completely around them and ride it out.

  “Get my ship away!” Will screamed. She launched herself at the young man and tackled him to the floor. Pressing her body tightly against his, she barely had time to encapsulate them both within her aura when the Objurian ship went incandescent. Like a star going nova, they were surrounded by a white light so intense, she felt as if her retinas were being burned through her tightly shut eyelids. There was the sensation of incredible heat, and a sound that could have ruptured her eardrums, that lasted for nearly a dozen breaths.

  To be followed by a star-filled darkness and blessed silence.

  Chapter Three

  Discovery

  Will continued to clutch Vall firmly against her as the space ship disintegrated around them. Any time he moved or struggled, she shushed him and gathered him more tightly in her embrace, keeping their bodies as close as possible.

  “Don’t move. My shield is stretched beyond my normal self. The barest increase in the amount of distance separating us could rip it, and we’d both die together in space. Don’t move, Vall. Keep still. You’re safe as long as you stay motionless.”

  Her cheek was pressed to his dirty chest. Her forehead lay just beneath his throat. But all she could feel was how cold his skin was, and she wondered again at the miracle of his survival.

  Bits and pieces of the Objurian craft slammed against her shield, without any harm to them. Every time a chunk ricocheted off, Vall jerked. She closed her eyes to prevent her
self from having the same reaction, and concentrated on keeping the man firmly wrapped in her arms. She could hear his rapid breathing and the sound of his heartbeat as it pounded furiously. He was terrified, and she couldn’t do a thing to calm him except with her words. Fortunately, the translator worked since they were both inside her aura.

  It felt strange but oddly pleasant to feel the length of her body aligned against his. With her hands flat against his back, she thought she could detect ridges or scars running along his spine. A couple felt sticky to the touch. He flinched at her probing, silently letting her know the wounds were still painful.

  He had his arms around her shoulders. Every so often she could feel a hand travel over her back, where it gently stroked her. At one point, a hand moved upward, lightly caressing her neck as his fingers touched her short hair. But he had yet to make a sound.

  She could feel slight movement as he turned his head to watch everything disintegrate into nothingness. Through the aura’s misty haze, she could see the Objurian ship reduce itself to minute bits and particles, until space around them was littered with a cloud of tiny debris from the enormous craft. Once the fury of the explosion was expended, she called to her crew.

  “Captain here. Outbound crew, report!”

  “Plymon here.”

  “Peersoff here.”

  “Gorin here.”

  She breathed a mental sigh of relief. Already she could hear the rhythm of Vall’s heart slowing, as well as his breathing. His large hands continued to roam across her back.

  “Captain, the prisoner?”

  “I have him,” she informed them. “But he’s in need of emergency medical care. I need pickup immediately.”

  “On our way, Captain,” Magnus informed her.

  In less time than she could count, the familiar outline of the Trinity of Hope emerged from the dust cloud and advanced toward her. It approached from below, gradually adjusting itself until the hull hovered just beneath her feet. She looked over the nearly seamless exterior for the airlock.