Star Cruise_Stowaway

by Veronica Scott

  Observing his reaction, Tyrelle said, “Dr. Shane treated the skin with a luxurious ointment earlier. She said it will heal nicely. Last night I was restrained, but today they gave me a monitor instead.” Pointing at the band on her right wrist, Tyrelle added, “A much more humane solution.”

  He didn’t think he could have stood to see her tied down in the bed by his own people without losing his temper. He couldn’t force himself to think of her as a threat to them. “What does it do?”

  “I am authorized to monitor the detainee at all times,” Maeve the AI said from thin air. “If she strays from the parameters I was given by Captain Fleming, I administer a stun pulse which will do no harm, only immobilize. Officers Dilon and Thomsill adapted the device for this purpose.”

  Anger rose slowly in his heart. “How is that humane?”

  “This is so much better than what my handler does to me, and being restrained was causing my heart to beat erratically.” She gave him a tiny smile. “Or so the doctor said. I think she took pity on me, and she was trying to persuade the captain to let me out of bed.”

  A discreet knock on the door sounded, and Clint poked his head in. “Sorry, Dr. Shane’s orders, short visits only. Don’t want to tire the patient out.”

  “Thank you for the flowers.”

  He rose from the chair and hesitated. “I’ll be back, if you’d like me to visit again.”

  “Oh yes.” Face radiant, she plucked one glowing red flower from the rejuvenated bouquet and handed it to him, their hands brushing against each other. “I’d be so pleased.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  As soon as he left sickbay, he called Red while stuffing the velvet rose carefully into a pocket on his utilities. “What’s the deal with Tyrelle’s collar?”

  “Tyrelle? Is that her name? Pretty sound to it. Seems like a nice girl. Yeah, I could get it off, no problem. It’s a standard detonation model, modified for the collar configuration but not a challenge. Take me a minute. Saw it used all the time by the insurgents on Fodor Three. We got good at popping them.”

  “What’s stopping you?”

  “Talk to Jake. The decision’s above my pay grade.”

  Owen broke the link. “Maeve, where’s Jake?”

  “Meeting with Captain Fleming in his office.”

  “Tell them I’m on the way.”

  “You weren’t invited—”

  “I am now.” He stepped into the gravlift and headed to the Bridge Deck. Rapping on the door of the captain’s wardroom, he tried to tamp down his angry suspicions.

  “Enter.” Fleming was behind the desk, Jake sitting to the side, both obviously expecting him. Maeve must have given the alert on her private channel. “Coffee?”

  “No, thank you, sir. Why hasn’t the collar been taken off Tyrelle yet?”

  “Sit down, Owen.” Fleming waved him to a chair. “Removing an explosive device on board a civilian ship isn’t so simple.”

  “Red told me he could do it, no problem.” Owen pointed his index finger at Jake. “You believe him, don’t you? She wants it off, she needs it off. Have him do it in an airlock if you’re worried about an explosion on board the ship.”

  “The SCIA requested us to wait,” Fleming said. “A top agent and her team are meeting us at the next stop to take jurisdiction of the case.”

  Clenching his fists on his thighs, Owen said, “Tyrelle is a person, not a case. She’s the victim here.”

  “Tyrelle? You’re suddenly on a first name basis with the lady? I think the SCIA request is reasonable enough.” Fleming sipped his coffee. “Red assures me the device won’t go off on its own, and whoever has the controller isn’t likely to be on board the Zephyr since the freight was switched to us at the last moment.”

  “I think the SCIA wants to use it to pressure her,” Owen said. “The poor girl has been through enough, with whatever the Combine did to her.”

  “What did she tell you?” Jake leaned closer. “No one was supposed to question her.”

  “Yeah, I got the memo,” Owen said with heavy sarcasm. “But she volunteered a few details, nothing substantive. We all know the SCIA has been trying to get a handle on the Combine for years now. I’m guessing the Agency doesn’t want us removing the fucking collar because they want to use it as leverage, to force Tyrelle to co-operate if she wants it off. Probably wish we’d left her in those barbaric ankle irons too. Your wrist bracelet stunner is a distinct improvement,” he said in an aside to Jake. “The SCIA doesn’t care about Tyrelle—she’s a tool for them to use, never mind the hell she’s been through. The end justifies the means to the Agency.”

  Fleming swiveled. “Jake?”

  “I hate to say it, but I tend to agree with Owen. SCIA plays rough all right. They have to, going against the Combine.” He glanced at Owen. “I’d prefer to let Red remove the collar.”

  Owen reached a decision. Clearing his throat, he stiffened his spine and said, “Captain, I’ve been researching the law regarding stowaways. Regs state such a person is entitled to have an advocate appointed while on board the subject vessel, to ensure their well-being. I respectfully request to be made Miss Tyrelle’s advocate. Clearly she needs one.”

  “Interstellar Commerce Commission Regulation 2005, subparagraph 100, clause EE3, paragraph A,” Maeve said.

  Fleming cocked an eyebrow at Owen. “I guess you mean the AI’s been researching it for you. You’re not a lawyer.”

  “The shipboard advocate doesn’t have to be but must be an officer. I believe I meet the requirement, unless you want to bust me to crew member today.”

  “Don’t try my patience.” Sipping his coffee, the captain considered. “Are you attracted to this girl?” He held up a hand to forestall Owen’s protest. “Your recent actions are out of character, leaving the cargo hold and arguing with us about how we’re treating a stowaway.”

  “I told Jake last night, she’s in trouble and she needs someone on her side. I’m not saying you aren’t, but the ship and the passengers are your first priority, as they should be. I found her, it’s kind of my responsibility.”

  “Like Moby,” Jake said.

  “A woman burdened with an explosive collar is hardly the same as an abused kitten,” Owen said with dignity.

  “You have the urge to protect and defend is all I meant.”

  Fleming pointed at Jake. “Opinion?”

  He shrugged. “I think it’s a good idea. We don’t know this Tyrelle’s story yet, but the SCIA is tough to deal with under the best of circumstances. So yeah, she could probably use the help.”

  “All right, I agree. And the first order of business is getting the damn collar off. Have Mr. Thomsill take care of it since he volunteered. I expect to be kept apprised of any changes in Miss Tyrelle’s status, and I’ll keep you both in the loop on any communications from the SCIA. We enter orbit in four days, so keep her presence aboard as low key as you can in the meantime. I don’t want the passengers alarmed, and the SCIA doesn’t want news about her to leak. Dismissed.”

  Jake and Owen left the office and took the gravlift to A Deck. “I need to talk to her,” Owen said. “Explain this advocate business, make sure she’s ok with it. Then I want the collar off.”

  “I’ll talk to Red while you’re with Tyrelle, see where he wants to do the disarm operation.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Owen made his way to the sickbay, merely nodding at Relba as he proceeded to Tyrelle’s room.

  Jayna, another member of Jake’s staff, was on duty now, and she knocked and opened the door for him. “Good for you,” she whispered. “This lady needs the help.”

  “Back so soon?” Moby was curled on Tyrelle’s lap and, other than lazily opening one eye, proceeded to ignore him. The stowaway’s smile faded a bit as he strode purposefully to the chair and sat. Brow furrowed, studying him, she asked, “Am I in new trouble?”

  “I’ve taken a liberty and if you’re not comfortable with it, I can step away. You can ask for another person to be invo
lved other than me.”

  Tilting her head, she eyed him for a moment, before reaching to place her hand on his arm. “I’m sure whatever you’ve done is well meant. Tell me.”

  “Per the law, you’re entitled to have an advocate on this ship, someone to stand up for you, see you’re taken care of. I’ve talked the captain into appointing me.”

  “You don’t trust your shipmates not to hurt me?”

  “I do trust them, Captain Fleming is a “by the book” guy, but when I heard Red wasn’t going to remove the collar, and why, I got mad.”

  She touched the glittering metal gingerly. “Your captain intends to leave it? Why? Did your friend Red decide it was unsafe for him to do after all?”

  “Have you heard of the Sectors Criminal Investigation Agency? The SCIA?”

  Eyes narrowed, shoulders slightly hunched as if expecting a physical blow, Tyrelle nodded.

  “Agents are coming to pick you up when we reach our next port. They want the collar left on, flinging a buncha bullshit at the captain about safety. I’m guessing the agent in charge wants to threaten you into helping the SCIA catch the bad guys. The SCIA wouldn’t be able to put a thing like that on you themselves but could sure stall on removing it.”

  “I see.” She bit her lip.

  “So are you okay with this, me being your advocate?”

  Eyes closed, head averted, voice so low he could hardly hear it, she said, “I belong to you now?”

  “No!” He was horrified. Hurling himself from the chair, he paced in the small room. “You’ve got it all wrong. I’m trying to be your friend, help you out. You don’t belong to anyone but yourself. You should be a free woman right this minute but with the SCIA involved—” Swallowing hard, he said, “The arrangement is called protective custody.”

  “Since the moment I was taken from my planet, it’s been made starkly clear to me I belong to whoever holds the key to my chains, or this.” She gestured at the collar.

  “Not any longer, I swear.”

  “I believe you. You have honor, Owen Embersson.” She smiled. “It’s good to have a friend after so long alone. I feel fortunate.”

  “Red is coming to disarm the collar,” Maeve said. “He declared he can do the removal in sickbay.”

  “We’re ready.” Owen squeezed her hand. “Right?”

  “Will you be in trouble with the SCIA?”

  He shook his head. “Captain Fleming is in charge on this ship and what he says goes.”

  “You deserve to know I’ve done terrible things,” she said, covering her eyes with her hand. “I can’t accept your help under false pretenses. I can’t ever go home, even if I knew how to get there. I’ve dishonored my vows and taken lives. I believe the ones who died were evil people for the most part, akin to the sentients who own me, but nonetheless, it wasn’t my place to decide their days were done. I served Thuun as a priestess of life, a woman of honor and yet here in the Sectors, I inflicted wrongful death.”

  Her words gave him pause for a moment, but he appreciated her honesty. Seven hells, he’d committed some pretty awful acts himself while under orders during his military service. If she wanted to harm him, she could have done so already. If she was trying to play him, then he’d just have to keep his wits sharp. He’d meant his words to the captain and Jake – she did need an advocate, and he’d made his decision to jump in with both feet.

  While he’d been hesitating, Tyrelle swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry, I can’t stop weeping today. Your poor cat’s fur has been wet with my tears.”

  Owen moved to the edge of the bed and held her. “I think all the terrible events you’ve endured are hitting you now you’re safe here with us.” He’d never comforted anyone in such emotional distress, but he wrapped her slender form in his powerful arms and patted her back.

  Moby rubbed her head on Tyrelle’s arm, making little cries of distress.

  The portal opened, and Red and Jake walked in, with Dr. Shane at their heels. The trio stopped just inside the small room. Frowning, reaching for her scanner, Emily came forward.

  But Owen shook his head. “She’s fine but a bit overwhelmed today, right?”

  Tyrelle sniffled and hiccupped, nodding against his chest.

  Emily handed her a packet of tissues and stepped away.

  “Ready to get this collar off, miss?” Red said. He held up a sleek piece of high-tech military hardware. “I can deactivate and remove it with this. Done it a hundred times in the combat zone.”

  Sitting up straight, she kept her hold on Owen’s hand. “You’re sure it’s safe for all of you?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Go ahead then.”

  Red fiddled with the collar’s fastening for less than a minute.

  Owen heard a click, and his friend stepped away from the bed, holding the now-open collar.

  Jake came forward with a special lockbox for Red to place the device in and hastily sealed it. “Done.”

  “How can I ever thank you?” She rubbed the bruised and scarred skin at her neck.

  “Let me apply more lotion on the abrasion for you.” With a gloved hand, Emily daubed a generous amount of a pale cream onto Tyrelle’s skin, smoothing the sweet-smelling ointment over the red marks. “I’ll leave you the container, and you can apply more if the skin becomes itchy.”

  Owen squared his shoulders and proceeded to his next concern. “When will you clear her to leave sickbay?”

  Emily and Jake exchanged surprised glances before Emily spoke. “I assumed she’d stay here until we’re in orbit and SCIA comes aboard.”

  “But she’s not sick?”

  “Well, no.”

  “Then I want her issued real clothing and assigned a crew cabin, on my residence level. She has her monitor and Maeve will scan constantly. You can guard her just as well in a cabin, right?”

  Jake nodded. “Easier, in fact. Passengers aren’t allowed on the crew decks so we’ll attract less attention.”

  “I’ve had a few questions today why guards are present,” Emily said. “There’s a lingering unease about the outbreak incident even though the entire ship was decontaminated. Anything out of the ordinary attracts attention.”

  “Crew cabins aren’t luxurious like the passenger suites,” he said to Tyrelle, who was listening to the conversation wide eyed. “But contain better amenities than being in here.” Knowing he needed Jake on his side for this idea to work, he made an offer. “I’ll be happy to escort her to the cabin, with your guard, to make it look as innocent as possible to anyone we meet along the way.”

  “I give you my word as a priestess of Thuun, I won’t make any trouble and will adhere to whatever Owen tells me I must do.” Tyrelle made a face, pursing her lips and scrunching her eyes shut as if tasting something bitter. “Although I’m also compelled to tell you my honor has been ravaged by the acts I’ve committed at the command of those who kept me prisoner before.”

  Jake shook his head. “No need to share any details with us, save the story for the SCIA.”

  “We’ll try to make your time with us pleasant,” Emily said. “I’ll go see about the clothing. Give us an hour, gentlemen, and then you can take her to her new quarters.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  If circumstances had been different, Owen would have enjoyed strolling through the Nebula Zephyr with Tyrelle on his arm. Emily had gotten her an attractive outfit which he thought fitted her curves yet flowed gracefully, and Jayna the Security Officer didn’t object to acting as if the three of them were on a friendly tour of the ship together.

  As she passed the florist shop, Tyrelle’s steps slowed. She carried the bouquet he’d given her.

  He had her small package of medications, a second change of clothing and personal supplies Emily had also provided.

  “The flowers and plants are lacking,” she said.

  “No argument there.” Owen remembered his depressing visit to the shop.

  “I—I wish I could help. It�
��s been so long since I saw green living things, other than these beautiful flowers you gave me,” she said with a special tilt of her head and happy smile for him.

  Jayne made a sound, but when Owen glared at her, she was straight faced. “No side trips, sorry. Orders are to proceed straight to the cabin you’ve been assigned on Deck 14.”

  “It’s fine, I understand.” Tyrelle walked a bit more rapidly. “I’m so grateful to be enjoying even this amount of freedom.” She gasped and clung to him when Owen escorted her into the crew gravlift.

  He put his arm around her as they descended and maintained a steady stream of conversation. Midorri shot out of a vent and floated beside them for the last portion of the trip, tail wrapped loosely at Tyrelle’s ankle. “Not used to this?” he said.

  “I’ve never traveled in this fashion, no. Usually my captors forced me into cryo sleep, the way I arrived on your ship.”

  Jayna insisted on entering the cabin with them to do a rapid security check and verify with Maeve the small rooms were secure. “I’ll be right outside until my shift ends, and then it’s Clint, who you met before,” she told Tyrelle. “If you need anything, knock on the door or ask the AI to contact us.”

  Having placed the bouquet into a container with water and set it on the table beside the bed, Owen remained as Jayna left. His AI chimed, and he answered absently. “Embersson here.”

  “Hey, boss, just checking in.”

  “Something wrong? Did you find anything in the other crates?”

  “All clean, nothing but normal cargo. One small stash of joysmoke grass, but we confiscated the bag and turned it over to Officer Dilon. I wondered if you were ok?” His deputy’s voice conveyed her puzzlement. “I don’t remember you ever being late to work. Hell, you practically live here in the cargo bay.”

  “I’m occupied with other concerns right now. See you soon.” He clicked off, standing by the door and watching Tyrelle explore the cramped cabin, her face set in a delighted expression. “Do the new quarters please you? Will you be comfortable here? Is there anything you need me to fix or explain?”