by S. E. Smith
His eyes swept the area. It seemed impossible that there could be any place for Violet to hide in the small room but he knew she was there. He could feel it.
“Ally, ally in come free,” he called out quietly. “Violet, it is… Uncle Krac. You are safe, little one.”
A panel on the wall behind the small table pushed open. Krac’s expression softened when a faint light peeked out of the narrow gap as it opened further. He crossed the room and moved the chair that was in front of the panel.
Kneeling on one knee, he pulled the panel the rest of the way off. Inside was a large enough area for a small adult to hide inside. Skeeter had placed a thick blanket on the cold metal floor of the compartment to pad it. Violet knelt on the blanket, surrounded by the stuffed creatures that normally littered Skeeter’s bed. Her thin arms were wrapped tightly around the dark red Triterian. A small emergency torch was set up in the corner and lit the inside with a soft glow.
“Hi,” Violet said, looking at Krac with eyes far older than they should. “Where’s Skeeter?”
Krac’s throat worked up and down as he saw the sadness and fear in the crystal clear green depths. He held his arms out and waited until Violet was safely in them before rising. He turned and crossed back over to the bed and sat down, settling Violet on his lap as he tried to think of how much he should tell her.
“Is she with her mommy and daddy now?” Violet asked quietly, looking down at the stuffed Triterian in her arms. “She said if she didn’t come and get me not to worry. She said… she might have to go see her mommy and daddy and I shouldn’t be sad if she did.”
Unfamiliar dampness blinded Krac at the soft words. His arms tightened around the tiny body in his arms and he wished desperately for the ice that had protected his heart to come back because the pain he was feeling right now was overwhelming his nervous system. He cleared his throat so he could answer Violet’s softly spoken question.
“No,” he responded hoarsely. “No, she is not with her mommy and daddy. She is being cared for. She… was hurt.”
Violet sat quietly on his lap before she picked up his left hand in hers. She pushed at his fingers to let him know she wanted him to open them. When he did, she carefully laid the small sculpture that Skeeter had also given her in his palm.
“Skeeter gave this to me,” Violet whispered. “She said you are like her daddy and it would keep me safe. I think she needs it more than me.”
Krac looked at the small sculpture of Bulldog and swallowed. He remembered Skeeter’s words as she tenderly held the small figurine of her ‘father’.
“Most people think of him as a monster,” Skeeter had softly reflected.
“But you didn’t?” He remembered asking her quietly.
Her tender smile had spoken as much as her words had. “No, never. While others saw his scary teeth and sharp claws, I saw my own personal dragon come to save and protect me. He was larger than life and the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. He still is. He’s my hero and he always will be.”
His hand tightened around the figurine and he looked up at the twinkling lights as the impact of her meaning swept through him. A shudder shook his body as he fought to keep from roaring out his pain.
A knock on the door sounded to let him know that it was safe to leave the cabin. He rose stiffly with Violet quietly tucked in his arms. He carefully slipped the figurine into the pocket of his pants before palming the door open. Ty and Malik Jefe stood outside the door, waiting. They nodded to him even as they smiled at Violet, who smiled back at them.
“Hey little britches,” Ty said affectionately. “Are you ready to go see your mommy and daddy?”
Krac handed Violet over when she reached for her uncle. He frowned when she turned in Ty’s arms and held out the stuffed Triterian. He reached out automatically, taking it as she let go.
“This is Skeeter’s,” Violet said with a smile. “She likes to sleep with it. She says it keeps the bad dreams away.”
Krac nodded tightly as he held it to his chest. He ignored the confused and amused glances from Ty and Malik as he did. It was a part of Skeeter.
He knew he should find out where Bran had taken Harden and the other male’s bodies so he could see if there was anything he could use to identify the last intruder. He knew he should contact Roarrk and Anastasia to get an update on their end. He had already given the information about Tillman’s personal starship to Roarrk. There was a hundred and one other things he knew he should be doing, but there was only one thing he was going to do.
“I will be on the Conqueror if you need me,” Krac stated as he turned away. “Tell Kordon the next time there is a known threat to his family to have the damn healer come to his compound. I will not be saving his ass again.”
Ty chuckled when Violet’s face screwed up and her lips form an ‘O’. “I know, little britches,” Ty laughed. “Your mommy is going to find a bar of soap.”
Malik turned to his brother with a frown. “What the hell just happened? I swear he was acting almost human!”
“Ohhhh, Uncle Malik said a bad word,” Violet giggled before she yawned and laid her curly head on Ty’s shoulder. “I want my mommy.”
Ty rubbed Violet’s back affectionately as he started after Krac. “Your mommy wants you too, little britches. We’ll have you home safe and sound in no time.”
Chapter 20
Krac sat next to the bed reading the information Roarrk had sent him. Every few minutes his eyes would wander over the still, pale figure quietly sleeping. He nodded when Toolas came in and walked over to the bed. He watched as the healer checked the monitor hooked up to Skeeter. He already knew what it said as he had tapped into it and received minute by minute updates.
He ignored the amused smile on Toolas’ face as she noted the stuffed Triterian carefully tucked under the covers next to Skeeter, one of her slender arms carefully wrapped around it. Instead, he focused on the changes as she adjusted the medication. He noted that she had shut off the medication that was keeping Skeeter in a deep sleep.
“She is well enough to wake?” He asked.
Toolas glanced in surprise at the strange male who had been a constant presence in her medical unit for the past three days. Her eyes moved to where his fingers were entwined with the pale hand of the female. While a part of her itched to study the unusual male, another part understood that desire could be her last if she were to pursue it.
“Yes, she is well enough. She will be a little tender for a few days in the shoulder and chest area. If she takes it easy, she will be fine. The tissue regrowth is almost complete and there is no indication of leakage or additional blood loss where the wound was sealed. A few days of rest and she should be back to normal,” Toolas assured him. “I’ll inform the Grand Admiral that she should be well enough to transfer back to her freighter by tomorrow. I understand she lost her co-pilot. I’m sure the Grand Admiral will assign a warrior to help her return to the nearest Spaceport given what she has done for Councilman Jefe and his family.”
“I will go with her,” Krac said dismissively.
“Very well,” Toolas replied. “I need to file my report. Is there anything else you need?”
“No,” Krac said, shaking his head.
“I… very well,” Toolas replied with a sigh of regret.
Krac nodded again. He could feel the curiosity pulling at the healer. He could see it in her eyes. He was used to it when he was around others, especially those who studied medicine. He knew she wanted to ask him questions and study him, but he’d had enough of that in his life.
He turned in his seat to stare down at the slender fingers in his hand. Now, he wanted more. For the past three days, he had thought long and hard about what he wanted. Before, he merely existed. First as a laboratory experiment then as a protector to the descendants of the Freedom Five. Never before had he thought of his own needs and desires. That had changed since he met Skeeter.
A ghost of a smile curled his lips as he remembered the first
time he saw her standing in the corridor growling and clawing to get at Violet. He recalled his amazement when her slender arm came out of the sleeve of what he now knew was one of many strange articles of clothing that she liked to collect.
He chuckled softly as he remembered his shock when the head of the creature rolled across the floor. He realized now he was doomed the minute Skeeter’s brilliant blue eyes connected with his. Sadness, a very unfamiliar feeling before he met Skeeter, tugged at him as he remembered Froget’s demands to either kill them or help him get her to her cabin after she fainted at the sight of his blood.
He bowed his head as he remembered the funeral rite the Zion warriors had given the little amphibian male. Froget had received a full salute from the crews in honor of his sacrifice to protect the daughter of their former Grand Admiral and his human mate.
He looked up when the slender fingers in his hand tightened slightly. The blue eyes that he had fallen in love with stared back at him. Tears shimmered in the dim light as she gazed at him with a silent plea for comfort. He rose from the chair and slid his arms around her, pulling her close.
“It will be alright,” he murmured as her body shook with her sobs. “I will protect you. I swear, Skeeter.”
“Poor Frog,” she whispered in a broken, husky whisper.
“He was a true warrior,” Krac replied, rocking her back and forth in an attempt to comfort her. “He was given a warrior’s funeral.”
Krac didn’t know what else to say or do. He just knew that each quiet sob, each tear she shed, tore at his heart. This, he realized, is what it meant to feel. This is what it meant to… love someone. He could feel her pain and grief as if it were his own.
After several minutes, he felt the fragile body in his arms began to wilt as exhaustion from her injuries and her tears pulled at her. He gently laid her back against the covers, soothingly brushing her hair away from her face. His thumb gently wiped at the stray tears that continued to fall even as her eyelids began to droop.
“Krac,” her soft voice echoed in the quiet room.
“What, my beautiful red bird?” He whispered.
Her eyelashes fluttered open and she looked at him with a solemn expression. “Can I keep you for a few decades, maybe more?”
A smile tugged at his lips as he leaned forward to brush a light kiss across her forehead. “Maybe more,” he answered near her ear. “I think I am in love with you, Lulu Belle Mann,” he admitted before he pulled away.
A beautiful smile curved her pink lips even as her eyelashes lay like delicate crescents against her tear-stained cheeks. He continued to brush one hand soothingly over her hair. His other was entwined with hers. Her breathing evened out after several minutes and he knew she had fallen back asleep. He gently tucked the stuffed Triterian protectively against her before slipping his fingers from hers with regret. He nodded to Toolas who had been observing them. Instead of feeling resentful, he nodded his appreciation for her care and concern for his female.
She is mine, he thought as he answered the silent call coming in.
*.*.*
Krac stepped into the conference room off the bridge and nodded to the group of men sitting around it. Ty Jefe had taken his warship, The Raven, and was returning Violet to Kordon and Gracie. He moved closer to the windows, unable to sit as restless energy flowed through him. The attack on the Lulu Belle had brought the war closer to home. Before he had fought out of a sense of duty and loyalty to Anastasia. Now, he fought for personal reasons.
His eyes flickered to the split screens. One showed Anastasia with Roarrk standing behind her looking very grim. The other was Kordon Jefe.
“Toolas said Captain Mann will be well enough to transfer back to her freighter tomorrow. Once she has, we’ll be heading back to Pryus. Tillman’s starship has docked with it. Only one member of the crew disembarked,” Bran stated, his eyes following as Krac moved into the shadows near the viewport.
“Tillman states his starship was stolen when it was docked for repairs six months ago. He has offered a substantial reward for its return. Personally, I think he is full of shit,” Anastasia commented, sitting back in her chair only to jerk forward when Roarrk placed his hands on her shoulders. “He didn’t report the theft until three weeks ago.”
“What was his excuse?” Kordon asked calmly.
“He said he was not informed until then by his flight chief. He claims he has documentation to support his claims if I have any doubt,” Anastasia replied sarcastically. “All doctored I’m sure.”
“Krac, have you found anything from the men that were killed?” Kordon asked. “Also, Gracie and I would like to thank you for returning Violet to us. It is a debt we will never be able to repay.”
Krac shuttered his eyes when all eyes turned to him. He refused to show how uncomfortable he was being the center of attention. He was used to being in the shadows.
“Your debt is not to me, but to Captain Mann. She is the one who rescued Violet from the assassins. Violet is well since her return?” Krac corrected.
The corner of Kordon’s mouth curled upward and he nodded. “Oh yes. She has decided she is going to be a freighter captain now when she grows up,” he said dryly. “She wants a pink one.”
Chuckles echoed around the room at Kordon’s statement. Krac’s eyes flickered to the viewport where he could see the Lulu Belle off the port side. The lights from both the freighter and the Conqueror reflected off the outer hull highlighting the color. His eyes moved down the long surface toward the back where the shadowed outline of a dark red bird in flight was painted over the welded area that had been repaired.
“I learned very little from the men that I didn’t already know,” he replied, turning back to look at Kordon. “Harden Gimbal was an assassin for hire. He spent much of his youth in one of Earth’s youth detention rehabilitation facilities before he vanished at the age of fourteen. He was wanted in at least three star systems for the murder of prominent members within their legal or political system. He was hired by Tillman’s company four years ago to oversee the transport of defense equipment to some of the mining operations along the outer rim. One interesting pattern that I noticed was each of the mining facilities he delivered to were the ones attacked by the Alluthans.”
Curses echoed throughout the room at Krac’s last statement. He frowned as a new theory occurred to him. His eyes narrowed on Kordon as he ran the data he had stored on Harden, Tillman, the attacks on the Freedom Five descendants and the recent sudden interest in Gracie. That was one connection that none of them had connected until now.
“They want Gracie because of her knowledge of the Alluthans. She has been on board an Alluthan Mothership and lived. She knows their language, their computer systems and has firsthand knowledge of them both past and present,” Krac murmured out loud.
Kordon’s loud curse broke him out of his reverie. “Why? Why would they want to know about the Alluthans? The Mothership was destroyed!”
“One,” Krac replied. “One Mothership. What happened to the debris from it?”
“We salvaged as much as we could,” Bran said.
“The Zion military?” Krac asked with an intense stare.
“No,” Cooraan interrupted. “The council hired a salvage company. Everything that was collected was delivered to Paulus for the Confederation’s scientists to analyze.”
“What company was hired?” Krac asked, already knowing the answer but wanting confirmation of his suspicions.
“Multi-Works,” Anastasia hissed in dismay. “It is one of Tillman’s subsidiaries.”
“Anastasia, do you think Tillman could be the Leader of the New Order?” Kordon asked point blank.
“If he is, I would have already taken him out,” Roarrk spoke up from behind Anastasia. “He’s not, but he is working for the Leader.”
“Are you sure? Everything is pointing to him?” Kordon insisted.
“He’s a ruthless bastard, but he is a follower,” Anastasia said. “I’ve had him foll
owed for the past year. He was on Sallas when an attack on one of the council members was done. This one by the Leader himself.”
“Which member? How can they be sure that it was the Leader?” Bran asked.
“It was my younger sister Morgan,” Anastasia responded quietly. “She was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Couldn’t she identify him?” Kordon demanded.
“No,” Krac answered when Anastasia turned her head away to hide her grief. “Morgan was barely alive. She whispered that it was the Leader who attacked her before she lost consciousness.”
“What did she tell you when she woke?” Kordon asked impatiently.
“She was in a coma for over a month. When she finally woke, she could remember nothing of the attack,” Anastasia answered. “She has tried, but she remembers nothing.”
Kordon sat back with a growl of frustration. “Then we are no closer to finding out what is going on than we were before,” he retorted in a cold voice.
“What of Gracie? Has there been any more attacks?” Roarrk asked in concern. “If they want information about the Alluthans from her, they will try again.”
“Two nights back an assault team tried to enter the compound,” Kordon admitted. “We were aware of their arrival and were prepared. I’ve since moved with Gracie, Adam and Violet to a more secured location. Krac, we need to know why they want information on the Alluthans. There is something we are missing. This is beyond just the Earth council. I will bring it up with the Confederation Council members.”
“I will get the information,” Krac promised.
“Roarrk, you and Anastasia make sure you know every move that Tillman is making. Bran, make sure that every scrap of the Alluthan Mothership is accounted for. I will work with Gracie to see if there is anything that she might remember that can help. I want a report the moment you discover anything.”
Krac listened as Kordon went over a few other items but they had little to do with him. Already, his mind was back on the brave and beautiful human female lying in the medical unit. He was torn between his duty to protect the Earth council and his need to protect Skeeter from additional harm.