Vall's Will (2 page)

Chapter Two

Captives

Will threw her
hands out to her sides as she yelled out her order. The others were already in
position when her armored fingers connected with theirs. Their semi-circular phalanx
formed an impenetrable wall of strength. With their auras set to stun, the
Objurians literally sizzled upon contact as the aliens tried to overrun them.

Despite knowing
her feet were firmly attached to the hull, and that nothing short of a megaton
antimatter blast could penetrate her armor, Will unconsciously grunted as the
creatures slammed into them. Two fell in an unconscious heap. A couple
staggered back. The eye of one Objurian focused directly on her, knowing the
sound had come from her. Will saw herself reflected in the lidless red eye. To
outsiders, they were either anonymous glowing humanoid figures, or, as she was
to an Objurian, an ethereal-like being encased within a semitransparent suit of
light.

The insectoid
creature gave a human-like snarl and launched itself at her again. This time,
Will didn’t flinch when it slammed into her and screeched in pain or
frustration, or both. The thing slid down her body aura to lie at her feet.

As one, they let
go of hands. Will shook the Objurian off her foot and stepped to the side.

“When will
these fekkers learn they can’t charge us?” Gorin asked no one in
particular.

“It must be
instinctive,” Plymon responded.

Will looked up
to see what the aliens had been protecting. The queen sat on a small dais, its
legs wrapped around itself like a small child huddling in the cold.
A small
child capable of tremendous evil,
she reminded herself. Before she could
raise a fist to incapacitate it, Peersoff took care of the job. “All done.
They’ll remain in stasis until we reach the star station port, and Regent
officers can escort them to holding pens.”

“All right.
That’s our six,” Plymon announced.

Peersoff was
quick to correct him. “Six Objurians, but we’re still looking for twelve
other species, one of which is definitely humanoid. And don’t forget, some of
those life forms could be working on their side.”

“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 tried 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.