Starlaw (22 page)

“Oh … my … God!” Laurel uttered in absolute shock as she stared at Darius and the things wiggling just beneath his flesh. “Who the hell would do something like that? What kind of sick bastard would … my God!”

“It's all right, Laurel. I know what to do,” Gemma announced. “There are three inside him. We need to get him back to the
Titan
as soon as possible. If his damned tracking device had been embedded anywhere but in his left shoulder, we'd have located the both of you sooner.”

Laurel blinked back tears and simply nodded. She was momentarily unable to speak, probably one of the few times in her life that'd ever happened.

Her assumption about the damage done to his tracking device was correct. It might have been severely damaged or destroyed by the flails that had been applied to his skin. If the situation had been less dire, she'd have suggested embedding it into deeper body tissue, like his thick brain. But this was neither the time nor the place for such levity. Darius actually had creatures forcibly rooted within his body. At that moment she knew she'd kill every vamphiere—or their cohorts—whenever or wherever she came across them. Not content with slaughtering, as if that wasn't bad enough, they had to do it in a way that was both gruesome and agonizing. Any race that'd do such a thing wasn't worth the space they occupied.

She said nothing else as Barst pulled a six-inch black rod from his belt, pressed some lighted buttons on it, and tossed it a few feet to the right. The rod instantaneously folded out, into a floating stretcher.

With one more of a million wonders to learn, she simply followed as the procession quickly made its way back to the
Titan
.

She wanted to ask about Char and the other hostages but Darius's safety was still uppermost in her mind. She just assumed the situation had been dealt with or Barst and the other crewmembers with him would be chasing homicidal maniacs with a penchant for embedding foreign creatures in other folks' bodies.

Explanations would come. For now, she just wanted this incident over. More importantly, she wanted to be home again, away from all the intrigue space people inflicted on one another. She'd have given anything for a plain old burglary or a simple smash-and-grab of a couple of pieces of jewelry.

Only when they were in the med bay and Barst stood to one side giving orders to his crew did she finally ask the one pertinent question of immediate concern.

“Okay … will someone please tell me what the hell a driller is? Besides being unbelievably sickening to watch, what do they do?”

“They're sentient parasites,” Barst said. “The things eat their way into the central nervous system, move to the brain stem, mate, and lay eggs there. Their intent is to totally control their host. Through reading synapses the way we read a star map, they can use any part of the consciousness or memory to render their host malleable. This makes it much harder for their removal. The pain they cause by noncompliance is excruciating.” He shook his head and shuddered. “I think they found his tracker and ate it. If they perceived it might be used to get medical help, they'd do so.”

“Sweet Jesus!” She rolled her eyes and briefly stared at the deck. What other horrors were there in the universe? She was beginning to even appreciate a common cockroach. They might be nasty, but she knew how to deal with them.

Gemma called to Barst from across the med bay. “Let's do this now. I have to get all of these things. Not one cell can remain or Darius will be worse than dead,” she urgently told them while automatically using into her commander's given name.

It was clearer than ever to Laurel that the three of them were very close. Barst and Gemma had probably been with Darius for a long time. That would explain the looks of severe concern and solemnity on their faces now. Their commander wasn't just a supervisor. He was a best friend.

When Gemma and Barst drew nearer to the examination table where Darius was laid out, Laurel followed. They silently watched as Gemma placed a white disc against Darius's neck and then pushed it.

“This will bring him around while blocking a portion of the pain,” Gemma said.

“Is that necessary?” Barst asked. “Can't we do this while he's still out?”

Gemma shook her head. “No! He's going to have to tell me where they're located. Part of the little bastards' survival technique is to throw off intermittent, false life signs. And we don't have time to hook up a special incu-unit to the main computers.” She paused, then put her full attention on Laurel and the second-in-command. “Laurel … can you stand in front of him? Keep him focused. Barst, you and a couple of crewmen will have to hold him still if medical restraints won't work. Obviously, he'll have to remain in a seated position so I can get to his back.”

Laurel slowly shook her head. “Gemma, is this wise? You didn't see him in the woods. Can't you do something more than just block a
little
pain?”

“If I give him any more than what I just shot into him, he'll die. That much painkiller would have already stopped a smaller man's heart.” She began to say more, but stopped when her patient moaned. “He's coming around now.”

Darius raised his head, opened his eyes, and gasped.

Laurel stepped in front of him when Gemma nodded. And doing as the med-tech instructed, she placed her hands on either side of Darius's face.

“Good, Laurel! Now get him to talk,” Gemma instructed as she prepared a hover tray for her needs.

“Darius … you're back on the
Titan
,” Laurel said as she gently shook his face to get him focused. “Gemma is gonna help you. Do you understand?”

From his seated position, Darius strained at his bonds but nodded.

Gemma slipped on surgical gloves and a mask then picked up a wicked looking probe-like device. It was about eight inches long, as thick as her thumb and had a hook on one end. To Laurel, it looked like a small version of an old whaling harpoon.

Gemma spoke straight to her patient, clearly and loudly. “Commander, if you can hear me, I'm going to take the drillers out. How many of them are there? My equipment says three but my readouts may be wrong.”

“Yes. Three,” Darius whispered.

The med-tech asked yet another question. “Where is the most painful one now?”

“R-right shoulder,” he replied.

“Watch Laurel, Commander. Keep your attention on
her,
” Gemma told him. She glanced at Laurel before beginning. “Barst and these other two crewman will hold him if the pain gets too bad.”

Laurel nodded at the others in attendance. None of them was particularly up for this task, as evidenced by their forbidding expressions. But if Gemma said it had to be done, then it would be.

“Laurel … he might say things that don't make sense. That'll be the drillers making him remember things to get him to fight us. Okay?”

She nodded, took a deep breath, and moved closer. She kept her hands on either side of Darius's face and tried not to notice the horrible pain in his eyes.

As Gemma moved to Darius's back, lifted her probe, and inserted it into one of many whip wounds, Darius fought his restraints. Barst and the two crew alongside the examination table crowded together to hold their supervisor steady. In that moment, she'd never felt sorrier for another soul in her life, not even herself.

As Gemma dug, sweat broke out on Darius's face and he pulled against the friends holding him. Every muscle in his gargantuan body bulged. She was sure if they let him go, he'd break any of the restraints Gemma already applied. If he got free, it was possible for him to take all of them out.

“Darius, look at me! Don't fight … look at
me
,” Laurel begged.

Even from her position in front of him, the fresh flow of blood on the sheets behind him was evident. His wounds were reopening due to either his struggling, Gemma's probing, or the creatures' will to survive.

“Got it!” Gemma cried as she lifted the probe and placed one gray, worm-like thing in a jar her assistant held.

Laurel felt bile rise all the way from her gall bladder.

The creature that'd been extracted looked like it'd grown. But that might have been her imagination, augmented by how horribly awful the entire procedure was. It shouldn't have ever happened. Any vamphiere, wizard or anybody else who did this to another soul wasn't worthy of any kind of life. The desire to kill them all welled within her again. At the same time, respect for Darius and his ability to withstand the pain grew immensely.

She looked away from the jar and into his face again. He was staring at her as if she were the only anchor in a very terrible storm.

She licked dry lips, composed her features into a mask of complete calm, and acted for all she was worth. From that moment on, she refused to look at what Gemma did. Instead, she gazed into a pair of forest-green eyes, trying to infuse some of her strength into him.

For another fifteen minutes, Gemma dug, probed, missed, and finally located one driller after another. But Darius kept his gaze locked to hers. He made no more attempts to fight. He answered Gemma's questions as to where he thought the creatures were located, but remained perfectly still.

As the last driller was removed and Gemma's triumphant smile indicated success, Laurel let out a long sigh of relief. She kept her hands on either side of Darius's face even as tears trembled on her lashes. If the situation had been reversed, she'd have turned a weapon on herself.

“We have to leave him tied for a few minutes,” Gemma softly told everyone as she waved them away from the exam table. “I want to get to the lab with these damn things and make sure nothing was left behind. To do that, I have to put them under a photo-cosmic amplifier.” She pulled off her gloves and her mask. “Barst, could you give him this? I think he can have it now. And he can lie down.”

Gemma handed Barst another white injection disc. And when the med-tech hurriedly left the med bay, the second-in-command—bearing a look of utter relief on his fuzzy face—gently pushed the contents of the disk into Darius's neck. With great care, he lowered his commander backward, into a semi-lying position against soft pillows.

Laurel swallowed hard. Clearly, there were those on this ship who would give their lives for their superior—their friend. That kind of loyalty was hard-won and everlasting. She could respect that more than any rank.

“Untie me,” Darius ordered as he blinked and took his steady gaze off Laurel's face.

Barst slowly shook his head. “Gemma said—”

“For the love of Perdian's Moons … untie me and do it now,” Darius insisted, his voice still shaking.

When he was finally free of restraints, Darius shook his head as if he was trying to clear it. His skin color was much better. The pallor was fading, leaving in its place a deep tan, muscular hue. Laurel moved to support him on one side while Barst supported the other.

“I think we can actually take him to an incu-unit. Gemma won't mind. He can rest more comfortably and it'll be easier for further treatment,” Barst suggested.

“Just one damn minute,” Darius said as he glanced at each of them in turn. “What happened? I specifically gave orders for the crew to stay aboard and lift off if I didn't return.”

“We did lift off,” Barst admitted as he suppressed a grin. “We finished refueling, took off, and moved the
Titan
due west, closer to the Council Leader's residence. The vamphieres probably thought we'd left you. Our deep space concealment arrays hid us from their vessel's tracking console.”

Darius shook his head and blinked. “My orders—”

“I followed them to the letter,” Barst interrupted. “You said for the crew to stay aboard and refuel. They did. Laurel isn't part of the crew. She's free to leave and do whatever she wishes. But you never said what to do directly after taking off.”

“You were to get to Luster!”

“But you never said
when
,” Barst smilingly finished.

Darius glared at both of them. “You … I don't … if I have to reword every command to account for semantics … then … ”

“Darius, everything worked out fine,” Barst insisted.

Darius dragged air into his lungs, continuing to stare at them both. Anger was pasted all over his face. Eventually he sighed and passed a weary hand over the back of his neck. “What happened at Char's residence? Are he and the hostages all right?”

Barst raised one brow. “Not sure what happened when Laurel found you, but the diversion she gave us seems to have worked. She used your tracker to find you before one of the drillers destroyed it. Garron was found dead with the wizard and a couple of goons. The other vamphieres fled the home and headed for their ship, just to the west of Char's estate. We picked them off with photon cannons from the
Titan
.”

Laurel nodded as the pieces started fitting together. “If one of the vamphieres I killed was their leader, then the others probably thought they were under attack and took off like the low-life cowards they are.” She moved closer to Darius. “
Was
one of those things I shot a vamphiere leader?”

“I-I don't know. It could be,” Darius admitted. “I don't remember much after that damned wizard pulled out a disrupter crystal and went to work on me. But Garron's minions would certainly run if he and their wizard were taken out. When they aren't used to being on their own, the savages follow whoever's alpha.”

“At any rate … when the vamphieres ran toward their ship, we couldn't let them take off and attack some other planetoid or colony,” Barst explained. “Following League codes, we warned them, then blasted them and their small light-cruiser when they didn't surrender. One of our crew found Char and the other hostages on an upper floor of his residence. They were safe, if scared out of their wits.” Barst paused for a moment then smiled and chuckled. “Char is ready to join the League and has offered any amount of coin, jewels, or women to service
you
, Darius. Of course, I told him you could take no remuneration, but he's determined to that see that superiors on Luster reward you accordingly.”