Vall's Will

by Linda Mooney

  The crew was watching her, waiting to hear what they would do next. Will bit her lips. “That is why we had to abandon Precorut on such short notice, to prevent the Ben Objure from attacking the station, in the event they discovered we were there. At this point, we are on full alert. We have to draw the Ben Objure away from the settlements, and away from all Regency-held colonies.”

  “Don’t the Ben Objure realize the queen ship had been rigged to explode?” Plymon questioned.

  “It doesn’t matter to them. That, or they aren’t aware of the fact. Regardless, I don’t think they’d be willing to listen to reason if we tried to explain.”

  “Think they’ll follow us into the void?” Magnus wondered.

  “That’s what I’m hoping. If we can lure them away from populated areas, we stand an excellent chance of defeating any attempt they make to try and take us.”

  She noticed Plymon glancing toward the doorway, and a dark anger roiled in the pit of her stomach. His action was a blatant but silent question directed at her.

  “The Anglites have been delivered to their people, and Vall is in the hands of Precorut’s scientists, who I fully expect will discover what he is and where he came from.”

  She saw the man visibly relax, as if his worst fears had been dissolved. It wasn’t until he turned his back to her that Will realized she would never let the man take her body again. She had seen a side of the Sub-captain she didn’t know existed, and discovered she didn’t like. Of course, this new knowledge would not affect her working relationship with him. But it would definitely lock him out of her personal life.

  “Approaching void,” the navigator intoned.

  “There’s no hurry, Magnus. Take it slowly but surely. Let’s be a casual presence.”

  “Dangling the bait, Captain?”

  She recognized Dierk’s voice behind her. As the ship’s weapons master, he had been rebuilding the Trinity’s arsenal and re-energizing the ship’s shields during their down time.

  “Exactly. If the Ben Objure want to pick a fight, well, here I am. Let them come after me, instead of innocent colonists.” She cocked her head. “Give me a report on the weapons’ systems.”

  “All weapons fully loaded. Shields are at one hundred percent.” The weapons master grinned at her appreciative nod.

  Will hit a button on the chair arm. “Engineering! Baladon!”

  “Baladon here, Captain.”

  “How’s our fuel?”

  “We’re filled to the brim.”

  “Excellent. Thank you.”

  “But we didn’t blow up that ship!” Plymon reiterated.

  Will swiveled her command chair around to face him. “Tell me, Plymon. If we hadn’t boarded that ship, would it have blown?”

  As the Sub-captain chewed over his answer, she got to feet. She was tired, irritable, and hungry, and definitely in no mood to argue.

  “I’m going to retire to my cabin for a brief rest. Granth, call me if anything shoots at us.”

  “Will do, Captain.”

  She moved toward the doorway, keeping her face averted from the Sub-captain. He would recognize the snub. It’ll be interesting how he takes being ejected out of my personal life, she mused as the tube closed around her.

  She ate a small bowl of soup before retiring, even though her stomach growled for more when she was finished. But she was afraid eating a heavier meal would leave her nearly comatose when she laid down.

  Leaving her uniform on, she settled on top of her bed and tried to relax. Unfortunately, visions of Vall were burned behind her eyelids. Golden-brown eyes pleaded with her not to go, not to leave him. Those eyes spoke more eloquently than words ever could.

  Tears unexpectedly filled her eyes. Overflowing, they ran down the sides of her face and into the hair at her temple. Covering her face with her hands, Will sobbed.

  Why am I feeling like this? Why? Why is leaving you tearing at me?

  Vall…

  What is wrong with me?

  For several long minutes, she cried openly. Confused, unsure, and worried, she allowed herself to release those feelings which had been eating her, until weariness finally made her succumb to sleep.

  It seemed like only a short time had passed when a persistent voice called her name over the ship’s intercom system. The urgent tone pierced through the fog, awakening her.

  “Captain Tayte! Captain Tayte, report! Report to the bridge, Captain Tayte!”

  Groggy, she managed to roll over and slap the intercom button on the small shelf beside the bed.

  “Tayte here.”

  “Captain! Precorut is under attack!”

  All remnants of sleep vanished in an instant. Awake but still somewhat disoriented, it took her a few seconds to get to her feet and out the door.

  “On my way!”

  As she ran through the corridors, silent secondary alarms splashed brilliant blue light throughout the ship. By this time, all personnel would be at their stations, ready for her command. Plymon had put the ship on alert, but not in attack status. That call was hers alone, unless she became totally incapacitated, and he had to assume the chair.

  The tension on the bridge was palpable when she entered.

  “Granth?”

  “Received a short transmission seven minutes ago, Captain. It was a signal for help from Precorut.”

  “Magnus.”

  “Coordinates locked.”

  “Shields up and full speed. Granth, any idea who is attacking the station?”

  “I heard ‘Ben Objure’ before the signal was cut off.”

  “Magnus, how far―”

  “Eleven minutes, Captain.”

  Eleven minutes. A lot could happen in eleven minutes. Still, they didn’t have much choice but to hope they would be in time as the ship raced through space.

  Sitting back in her chair, Will stared out at the panorama spread beyond the view screen and tried to calm her rising fear.

  What if they weren’t in time? What if the Ben Objure made good their threats and destroyed the space station?

  What if they kill Vall?

  She gripped the arms of the chair so tightly, her knuckles turned white. She couldn’t think that way.

  Stop, Willis. Stop it. We’ll get there in time. We’ll get there and defeat the Ben Objure, or drive them back. Either way, we’ll save Precorut.

  We’re coming to save you, Vall. Just hold on. We’re coming!

  Chapter Eight

  Intent

  They had barely cleared the outer lanes of traffic when they came upon a sight that stunned them all. It was Magnus who voiced what they all were thinking.

  “Holy mother of the universe! Three Objurian ships?”

  Will had to shake herself. “Hold steady! At least three, but there could be others we don’t see at this angle.”

  But there was no denying there were three of them. Not as big as the queen’s ship, but they were highly visible as they hovered in space, blasting the space station from different angles. For the moment, they were too busy attacking Precorut to notice the Trinity watching from their rear. Meanwhile, ships and cruisers were abandoning the station in droves, trying to escape the onslaught. By the station’s obvious tilt, she could tell it had already suffered serious damage to its gyros and stabilizers.

  “Think we can take them?” Plymon whispered.

  “One at a time, most definitely. Magnus, let’s tap the nearest one on the shoulder and say hello.” Slapping the button on her chair’s arm, Will smiled as the battle alarm sounded.

  “Shields up!” Peersoff called out.

  “Good! Granth, let them know they’ve found who they’re searching for. Let’s see if we can’t take this war into open space, and away from the station.”

  She felt the familiar vibration as the ship fired at the closest Objurian craft. There was a moment of intense brightness as the plasma missile struck the ship’s protective covering. But Nion missiles were not like other weapons. As the outer shell of the
missile disintegrated upon contact with the Objurian shields, the inner ball of pure proton energy plunged through their defensive barrier and struck the ship full-on. Will watched as a portion of the craft exploded outward. Someone behind her whooped.

  “Confirm four Objurian warships, Dramsk configuring, each carrying sixty units of liquid fire and four launching tubes of methadene torpedoes.” The weapons master’s voice sounded from the chair’s speaker at her elbow.

  Plymon turned to look at her. “Dramsk configuration ships? That makes no sense.”

  “I agree.” She frowned as the vessel they had fired open ponderously moved toward them. Dramsk ships weren’t battle class. More than that, although their weaponry was impressive, it was a pitiful amount, especially against a Nion warrior ship.

  But there are four of them, she reminded herself. All total, they could leave us floating dead in space if they struck all together.

  “Granth, can you reach Commander Oglet?”

  “Working on it!”

  “Why aren’t the other ships attacking?” Plymon questioned aloud. “Didn’t we announce our presence?” He made a good point. The one ship they had hit was the only one responding. The others remained focused on the station.

  A cold shiver went through her. “Something’s up,” Will said. “They’re acting like they’re after something else. Like they have a different objective other than capturing us.”

  “But they stated they would come after you,” Plymon said. “Why are they attacking Precorut? They should know by now we’re not there. That we’ve left.”

  She started to reply when Oglet’s voice came over the intercom. It was audio only, and filled with static. In the background she could hear muffled thumps from the barrage the space station was taking from the enemy ships.

  “Captain Tayte!”

  “Commander Oglet! We’ve notified the Ben Objure of our location, but they’re continuing with the assault!”

  “They’re not after you. Not this time,” the commander said.

  “Then what…”

  She knew. The answer came to her before Oglet replied.

  “They want ‘it’ back. They want Vall!”

  Fekk it!

  “We’re coming in, Commander!” she told him. “Magnus, get me on that station! Plymon, lock onto Vall’s location.”

  “Amid eight thousand other humanoids?”

  Eight thousand plus, representing at least three thousand inhabited worlds.

  Humanoids. Creatures who shared the twelve basic commonalities, which enabled them to coexist on over a hundred thousand planets. Not counting space stations like Precorut.

  Killjorn’s voice overrode her thoughts. “This man isn’t humanoid.”

  Slamming her fist on the intercom button, Will called for the physician.

  “Killjorn here.”

  “Send me your cellular readout on Vall immediately! The Ben Objure aren’t attacking Precorut on my account. They’re after him!”

  “Transferring!”

  Will looked over at her Sub-captain, who was busy at his board. “Hurry!”

  “Captain. The enemy!”

  She turned to see the Objurian craft bearing straight for them. A pair of lights erupted from its cannons, and grew in size and intensity as they approached. Will watched, transfixed, as the balls of methadene fill the view screen. Although the weapons exploded harmlessly off the Trinity’s shields, she flinched automatically. Bung worms! Will I ever get over having that reaction? “Evasive maneuvers, Magnus. Get under her belly and fire at will.”

  “Initiating evasive moves.”

  “Found him, Captain,” Plymon called out. “Level sixty-eight. Quadrant three.”

  A holographic image of the exact location formed in front of her. Will glanced at the station through the view screen moments before the Trinity ducked beneath the Objurian ship. She watched as they fired at the vessel’s most vulnerable areas, knocking out their cannons and weapons bays. No longer able to fight, the Objurian ship veered off and disappeared into hyper light.

  “How long before more ships arrive?”

  “Fifty-three minutes, Captain.”

  She glanced back at Granth, who added a nod. Fifty-three minutes, and those arriving ships would be the big Objurian warships, nearly the same size as the queen mother’s.

  “Get me on Precorut.”

  “I strongly urge you to stay aboard, Captain,” Plymon said. “Peersoff and his men are fully capable of bringing the Vall back to the ship.”

  Will gritted her teeth. Hearing her second in command refer to Vall as an object more than irritated. Her respect for the man slid down another notch.

  “You’re right. Peersoff is head of security. But Vall will not go with him voluntarily, and it’s crucial we get on that station, find him, and be away before those warships arrive.” She leaped from her chair to head for the transport tube. “I’ll be waiting in the bay.”

  Peersoff was already present when she arrived. With him were all eleven of his security squad. They nodded when she stepped out of the tube.

  “Magnus, what’s our position?”

  “Slipping into engine bay fourteen, Captain.”

  Everyone froze in their tracks. Will shook her head in disbelief. “Magnus, did you just say we’re docking in an engine bay?”

  “It was disabled by Objurian fire, Captain. You said you wanted to get on board as soon as possible. Consider it a short cut.”

  They slipped on their armor just as the Trinity jerked to a halt. Felderen lowered the walkway before Will could order it done.

  “Captain!”

  Will paused halfway down the gangplank. “Yes, Peersoff?”

  “Let me take the lead. I’ve downloaded Vall’s exact coordinates.”

  She stood aside, and the security officer hurried past her. She followed close behind, along with the rest of the men.

  It was an eerie feeling to be inside the space station’s immense engine bay. It was one of six that not only powered Precorut, but also kept it anchored to this section of space.

  Will knew that she and her men were miniscule specks of light within the massive black cavern. Every so often a flash of light from an outside source would illuminate the still hot interior.

  Magnus had done a great job of getting the Trinity as far inside the bay as possible. The distance to the nearest doorway was less than a hundred meters. As they climbed over chunks of still smoldering metal, one of the security guards spoke up.

  “I don’t get it, Captain. Why fire on the station in order to get to one man, and risk killing him in the process?”

  She and Peersoff glanced in each other’s direction. It was the same question that had been rolling around in her mind ever since they came upon the scene.

  “Good question. Any ideas, Peersoff?”

  She caught the sparkle in the older man’s eyes, even through his body shield. “I thought you’d already figured that one out, Captain.”

  “Enlighten me. I’m focused more on the mission at hand.”

  “The Ben Objure aren’t trying to destroy the space station. This is just a diversionary tactic.”

  Understanding burst inside her with incandescent clarity. “That’s why they’re not using warships! The weapons on the warships would wipe out Precorut!”

  The security chief nodded, but his sub-chief needed further explanation. “What kind of diversionary tactic are we looking at, sir?”

  Rather than answer, they hurried to reach the airlock used by engineers. Peersoff paused once he reached the portal. His soft grumble did not bode well. “We have problems, Captain. The airlock is fried. We can’t get inside unless we cut open a hatch, but then we risk losing the atmosphere inside.”

  “And suffocating everyone inside,” Will finished for him, and glanced around. “Is there a second airlock?”

  “On the opposite side,” Peersoff told her.

  There was no way they would have enough time to reach it and get Vall off
the station before Objurian reinforcements arrived.

  She turned to observe the men standing nearby. “Then we’ll have to seal it ourselves.” Pointing to two of his stoutest men, she said, “We’ll cut our way in. You two will remain in place to prevent the air from escaping, and keep our exit open.”

  Motioning to one of his men, they quickly sliced a narrow opening through the airlock. As soon as they were all inside, two men adhered their backs to the slit. As soon as the airlock pressurized, Will and the others dashed through the narrow corridor, and found themselves inside the main control room overlooking all six engines. Peersoff checked their coordinates, then pointed to a catwalk overhead.

  “Up there. Through that exit.”

  “Somebody keep me informed as to how much time we have left!” Will called out. “Five minute increments!”

  “You have forty minutes, Captain,” Plymon informed them.

  They reached the catwalk, which emptied into a sub-level deck. Peersoff led them to the nearest transport tube and pointed up. “Good news is, level sixty-eight is only eight levels up.”

  “What’s the bad news?” Will asked, knowing there had to be a down side.

  “We got company. Bettis! Take the lead!”

  A guard stepped forward, weapons arm already set to stun, and disappeared inside the tube. Peersoff followed after him. Will went third.

  They encountered their first Objurian the moment they stepped into the corridor. Four of the creatures quickly advanced on them with ear-splitting shrieks. Will ducked beneath security’s covering fire and ran in the direction Peersoff pointed. She had heard of this kind of diversionary tactic, but she had never encountered it personally until now. With hundreds of souls hastily deserting the space station, the Ben Objure were able to search for Vall with little or no interference.

  She came across three unconscious guards from Precorut’s security team. A quick sweep showed they weren’t seriously injured. Stepping over them, she kept running.