Rogue Warrior

by Elin Wyn

  “Do I have to wait for him to get through breakfast, too?” I sighed.

  “I’ve never seen you so impatient, Lynna,” Orrin said with a grin.

  “I’m sorry.” I pushed a hand through my hair. “I’ve been on edge since The Terror found us. I really want the med bay to be in good shape in case it sneaks up on us and we can’t get away.”

  “There’s no way The Terror is going to catch us off-guard again,” Orrin assured me. “Every camera is monitored, the slightest anomaly triggering an alarm.”

  Valtic was doing the monitoring, I was sure.

  I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Valtic since our non-conversation the other day.

  I hadn’t seen him since.

  For the first time, I’d become aware of how little he left his office. I’d never seen him in the dining hall, aside from the few moments he’d lingered on my birthday.

  I never saw him in the halls.

  He didn’t want to talk. Fine.

  “I’d still feel better knowing I can do my job if need be,” I replied.

  I brooded while Orrin and Maris took their time finishing their meal. I wanted to laugh and joke with them but, for some reason, I just couldn’t.

  My mind kept wandering back to Valtic. I couldn’t imagine him laughing or even sharing a meal with others. The thought of him sitting alone in his dark office day after day weighed on me. Why was everything left to him? Or had he just taken the burden and refused to share it?

  “Ready?” Orrin asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.

  “More than ready.” I managed a smile. The three of us left the dining hall. First, we stopped by Orrin and Maris’s shared workshop so they could grab their tools.

  I lingered in the hallway while they grabbed what they needed, my eyes wandering to Valtic’s door. It was shut tight. There was no light shining through the small gap at the bottom of the door. I felt tempted to knock but just as I was weakening, Orrin and Maris emerged, ready at last to help me in the med bay.

  “What needs attention?” Orrin asked as we headed out.

  “Just about everything,” I sighed.

  We entered the med bay. I gave Orrin and Maris the all-clear to do whatever they felt was necessary. While they worked, I sat on one of the patient beds and stared up at the ceiling.

  “I didn’t realize how outdated our med bay was,” Orrin muttered as he worked.

  “You were the last serious patient,” I reminded him.

  “That’s why I’m so concerned. It’s a miracle I lived at all,” he joked.

  “Lynna’s just that good of a doctor,” Maris said. I didn’t miss the hint of pride in her voice.

  “Since I’m none the wiser, how outdated is everything?” I asked.

  “At least a decade behind a standard hospital,” Orrin answered.

  “Even so, this med bay is more advanced than anything we have in the Terran System,” I replied.

  “Not surprising,” Orrin said.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I gestured wildly in mock outrage.

  “Maris told me all about the equipment available to her on Persephone Station. Not to mention the horrible way of traveling through space you humans came up with.”

  “The Flosh drive,” Maris added. “The scariest moment of my life was getting into that pod.”

  “Understandable,” Orrin agreed. “It had a pretty high mortality rate, didn’t it?”

  “One in four,” I supplied. I tried to avoid thinking about the Flosh drive, the transport pods, and all the women who hadn’t survived the journey to Persephone Station.

  Each time a new pod arrived, the best-case scenario was that I’d pull a groggy woman who really didn’t want to be where she was from the transport pod.

  Worse case, I’d find a half-frozen corpse.

  In my nightmares, I didn’t see Persephone Station crumbling around us. Instead, I saw tube after tube, waiting for me to open them.

  To find bodies inside. Row after row.

  “The fact that this is still operational is nothing short of a miracle.” Orrin marveled at a piece of equipment used to disperse various fluids intravenously. I worked with similar machines regularly in the Terran System, but this one analyzed the body in question and generated the needed fluids automatically.

  “I could say the same about myself,” I said bleakly.

  “My goodness, Lynna. I’ve never seen you so grim. What’s the matter?” Maris asked with a furrowed brow.

  “There has been something weighing on my mind,” I admitted reluctantly. If I didn’t take my own advice to talk to people, was I really doing any better than he was?

  “Is it about The Terror?” Orrin asked. “We’re all a little shaken after that.”

  “Sort of,” I shrugged. “Truthfully, I’m concerned about Valtic.”

  Orrin stopped working long enough to give me a surprised look. “I didn’t realize you and Valtic were close.”

  “We’re not,” I quickly corrected him. “My birthday was the first time I’d ever spoken to him.”

  “I was surprised to see him there at all,” Orrin admitted.

  “Does he always spend so much time on his own?” I asked.

  “We work across the hall from him and we barely see him,” Maris replied.

  “And that doesn’t concern you?” I asked. “Even a little?”

  “Why would it?” Maris replied. “If he wanted to hang out, we’d see him around more often.”

  “Valtic has made it quite clear that he prefers to be alone,” Orrin added. “He’s never been the nicest Shein, but when he’s not left alone, he can get downright mean.”

  “Did he say something mean to you?” Maris demanded, gripping the tool in her hand hard enough to turn her knuckles white.

  “No,” I laughed, and motioned for her to relax. “I wouldn’t say he was overly friendly to me, but he hasn’t been mean, either.”

  “Good.” Maris nodded. “I have no problem teaching him some manners if need be.”

  “I’ll let you know if it comes to that.” I shook my head. A few months ago, Maris wouldn’t have cared if I lived or died. Now she was foaming at the mouth to defend my honor. Good things had come from the destruction of Persephone Station, the best of those being the strong friendships that had emerged.

  “If he hasn’t been mean to you, why are you asking about him?” Orrin asked.

  “Lynna thinks he’s broken,” Maris said with a knowing smile.

  “I do not,” I said with a dismissive wave of my hand.

  “Then why are you interested in his social habits?” Maris pressed.

  “I simply don’t think it’s good for anyone to spend so much time alone.” I held up my hands, palms out. “And as the only doctor on board, it seems like I should pay attention.”

  “In other words, you think he’s broken,” Maris smirked. “Either that or you think he’s tragically handsome.”

  “Why would you think that?” I snorted, ignoring the warm flush that spread through my chest.

  Truth be told, Valtic did have a classic handsomeness to his features. Well, as classic as an alien male could be.

  I couldn’t exactly tell what it was about him that reminded me of the leading males from all of those heart-wrenching black-and-white romance movies popular on Earth a few centuries ago.

  It wasn’t his looks, not exactly.

  He looked nothing like any human male I’d ever seen on screen. It was more like the air he gave off that reminded me of something old and tragic, though he couldn’t have been more than a few years older than me, if that.

  “The way you’re blushing,” Maris shrugged.

  My hand flew to my cheeks. “I’m not blushing!”

  “Yes, you are,” Orrin confirmed, eyebrows raised.

  “If I’m blushing, it’s not because I fancy Valtic, it’s because you’re embarrassing me. I’m a doctor. Everyone’s health on this ship is my business. As a medical professional, I’m conce
rned about Valtic. Can you tell me anything useful or not?”

  “All I’ve heard is that he had a promising military career, but something went wrong,” Orrin said. “Dejar would know, but I’ve never asked. Never needed to. Valtic’s never brought it up and I don’t want to provoke him.”

  “All hands, Rogue Star is now approaching the port of Katzul,” Qal’s voice echoed through the overhead speaker.

  “Orrin, let’s go to the bridge,” Maris said urgently. “I want to see how the new registration chip works.”

  “You spent half a day on it,” Orrin sighed. “You know it’s going to work perfectly.”

  “I know. I just love the validation.” Maris preened.

  “Your humility is inspiring, darling.” Orrin rolled his eyes. “Want to come, Lynna?”

  “No,” I shook my head. “I think I’m going to stay down here and tinker with the equipment.”

  “It’s a stunning view of Katzul from the observation deck,” Maris said.

  “I remember from last time. Besides, knowing that there’s a flourishing business that makes money off selling exotic alien women really takes the shine off things.”

  “Fair enough,” Maris agreed. “We’ll come back to work on your equipment once we’ve made port.”

  “Sounds great.” I smiled as they left.

  Once I was alone, I let out a sigh of frustration.

  Valtic was still at the forefront of my thoughts.

  I didn’t know what to do about him.

  Valtic

  I watched through the cameras as we re-docked at Katzul. It was a shame that the only civilization on the entire planet was this one spectacular, corrupt city of the same name.

  We had returned to speak with Itair, to get information from him regarding The Terror and the slave trade.

  And that group, Enclave.

  “Valtic?”

  Captain Dejar’s voice over my intercom snapped me out of my thoughts. I reached over and pressed the button to respond. “Yes, Captain?”

  “As soon as we’re officially docked, I want you to meet Aavat and me in the docking bay.”

  “Yes, sir!” I responded. Maybe there was a problem in the bay that I hadn’t noticed. I’d add it to the list.

  I went back to monitoring the cameras as we completed docking procedures. As the ship settled to a stop, I left my office and made my way through the ship. When I arrived, I found Dejar and Aavat already waiting for me.

  “Reporting for duty, sir.”

  “At ease, Valtic,” Aavat responded. “How would you feel about getting off the ship for a few?”

  I was a bit taken aback. “Is there something wrong with the exterior of the ship, sir?”

  “No, no. Nothing wrong with the ship. We’re on our way to speak to Itair. The captain and I figured that since you have yet to deal with him, you would have a fresh perspective on what he would have to say.”

  Dejar nodded. “Basically, we want a new set of ears when it comes to dealing with Itair, and you seem like the right match.”

  “I’m not sure how much help I would be, sirs. My job is on board the ship where I am most useful. Perhaps one of the other crew, or one of the women would be better suited to accompany you?”

  Dejar shook his head. “No. We’re interested in your perspective. We need to know what you think of his answers when we question him.” He narrowed his eyes, pondering. “His information could help us deal with possible threats to the ship.”

  Of course. I should have thought of that first.

  “In that case, I understand. When do we leave?” I asked.

  “Now.” Aavat reached over and entered in his personal code for the security system. A circular door behind him rolled into the wall, opening the ship to the world outside. Aavat and Dejar stepped out first, I was only a few steps behind. The door slid back into place behind me, the hiss of the door seals closing saying their good-byes as we walked away.

  It was near midday and the dock was as busy and hectic as ever.

  I was uncomfortable with so many people around. Anything could happen and I would be unable to tell from what direction the threat came.

  I stayed close, my eyes darting back and forth, taking in as much as I could as we made our way towards Itair’s floating home. Soon enough, we stopped and Aavat began speaking with an unsavory looking male in a suit. I wasn’t sure what he was, other than plainly a goon.

  Aavat motioned for us to follow and we followed the goon around a corner to a four-doored transport unit. As the three of us got inside, the suited male got into the front and started it up. In less than two minutes, we were descending to a small landing pad on Itair’s float. His numerous pools filled with sea creatures seemed extravagant and overdone. Anyone that felt such a desperate need to impress their guests must have a lowered sense of pride.

  We were led into the home—a massive, sprawling place that was almost the same size as the Rogue Star—through two massive doors that dwarfed all of us. They looked to be made of wood, and extremely heavy. Itair impressed me as much as his wasted pools did. He was a Pronarian, and while they were normally tall, thin, and had long dark hair, Itair was the opposite in almost every way.

  He was portly, nearly double the size of the average Pronarian, and stood a few inches shorter than I remember one of his kind normally being. He had also cut his hair to a short military-like cut, although it looked as though he were trying to grow it out on top. He was wearing a bright yellow robe that went all the way down to the floor where his sandaled feet shuffled out with every step.

  He greeted us with a large, over-the-top smile and open arms. “My friends,” he called out, his voice exuding joy. “How are you? Please, please, come in, come in.” My skin prickled. Nothing rang as genuine to my ears.

  He reached up high to put his arm around Dejar’s shoulders. “Tell me, what brings you to my humble little home?” Then, in a lower voice, “I wasn’t expecting a delivery from you.”

  Dejar shook his head as he answered. “We’re not here for that. We need to speak to you, privately.” His voice was low, and a bit menacing.

  “Why, of course. Come, come, I have just the place to speak,” Itair responded blithely. He tried to engage the captains in small talk, completely unfazed by the fact that they refused to join in.

  I scrutinized his movements, listened to the tone behind the words. Was he really so oblivious to not realize we were here for serious business?

  Or did he not care?

  One answer made him a fool. The other might mean he was more dangerous than he seemed.

  Itair led us upstairs and down a short hall before coming to another set of double doors, which he opened with an extravagant flair. “Welcome,” he called out in a practiced voice. “What shall we talk about, my friends?” He walked over to a small bar and took down a bottle and four glasses, then looked at us, eyebrow raised.

  “We’re not here for social reasons,” Aavat said, turning down the offer of a drink. Dejar and I also turned him down. As he poured himself a drink and motioned for us all to sit, I looked around the office, filled with so many books, pieces of art, and statuettes from around the cosmos that it would have been hard to find anything that was useable.

  Wasteful.

  Aavat was still talking. “We need to speak to you about something, and we need real answers.”

  With his hands spread, Itair seemed to be a bit insulted. “Of course. What can I help you with?”

  “We want to know about a dark ship called The Terror,” Dejar said.

  I watched Itair’s reaction.

  His sickly skin paled to a lighter, yellower green, pads of his long fingers distorting slightly as he clutched the heavy glass. He must be close to breaking it.

  The cords of his throat tightened as he swallowed, and once again before he found his voice.

  “I’m sorry, Captain Dejar, but I know nothing of the ship you’re talking about. I sincerely wish I could aid you,” he finally answered.
An obvious lie, but something about his phrasing seemed odd.

  “Look," Aavat said, “we know you're involved. And your umbba deliveries got us involved.” His voice lowered to a growl. “Don't make me start spreading the word that you're behind all of this.”

  Itair's hand relaxed. He wasn't worried anymore.

  “It would do you no good, friend. Too many people know me, they know I would never betray a client."

  So what had made him nervous before?

  “Are you sure about that?” I spoke up.

  His bulging eyes fixed on me. “I'm sorry, I don't think we've had the pleasure of being introduced?”

  “I think at the moment we can skip the pleasantries.” He swallowed again as I stood.

  Fear of a physical threat made him flinch. That was clear even if I hadn't actually said anything to make him worry.

  Yet.

  And he'd been afraid at mention of The Terror.

  But not about anything Aavat could tell anyone. Not about any damage to his reputation here on Katzul. Not the idea that people might believe he was behind the slaving.

  Whatever The Terror was, whoever ruled Enclave, that's who he was afraid of.

  “People here might believe that you would never betray a client,” I started slowly, “but does everyone know that?”

  He blinked but said nothing.

  “What about the crew of The Terror? Do they know you'd never betray them? Really, really know?”

  There it was, the rapid fluttering of his eyelashes, the tension in his hand.

  “I know nothing about it, have nothing to do with any of that,” Itair sputtered.

  Dejar pounced. “Now that can't be true,” he interrupted, his voice a deadly purr. “We came here, and you told us exactly where to go to buy companions. Very pretty ones.”

  “Just rumors,” Itair scoffed

  “They were very precise rumors,” Dejar snapped.

  Aavat stepped in, “And you didn't seem to mind. You knew those designs you were so proud of; all those fabrics were going to those women. And that it had to be done discreetly.”

  Itair slammed his glass down on the desk. “Of course, there will be times and places that women from less wealthy worlds seek companionship, patronage from those who can protect them.”