Prince of Luster (32 page)

“Assuming there are no other victims in these woods and that this is the female he spoke of … her life signs are barely stronger than his were,” Gemma told him. “I don’t know how much longer she can survive. I can barely read in the light from these primitive tube-illuminators, and we can’t turn on our own ready beams without summoning every constabulary in the area, but I think the tag on her uniform says …
Blake
. Is that a name or some kind of unit designation?”

“I don’t know. I think it’s probably her name. Just like Martinez,” he surmised.

Gemma glanced at her portable wrist bio scanner then moved closer to the one survivor. “The blast entered this woman’s left shoulder and went all the way through. Her breathing has been compromised. She won’t survive the night if the primitive physicians here cannot treat this kind of laser injury, and I find it inconceivable that they could.”

Piercing alarms tore through the stillness.

“I think those are warnings coming from conveyances. If memory serves, they’re called sirens,” Darius said. “We’re out of time. I don’t want to encounter innocents not knowing if even stunners will do permanent damage.” He looked down at the unconscious woman. “We need to go now, Gemma.”

“Sir, we can’t leave her. She’ll die if we do,” the medical technician insisted.

He slowly shook his head. “You know our orders. We’ve interfered all we dare. ”

“Sir …
please
. We can’t leave her. You said she’s probably an enforcer … like us.”

Darius touched the unconscious human woman’s face. She was shivering, indicating shock was taking hold.

“Sir? Let me try to help her,” Gemma pled.

“Orion’s blood!” He gazed down at the still figure before them and made a decision for which his entire crew might suffer.

A dying man had begged for this woman’s life. If someone he cared for were lying there, what would he do to give them one more chance?

An old wound opened and he knew the answer to the question. His crew would understand. The punishment, if there was to be any, would be much less harsh for saving a life than if he’d taken Goll’s. If he had his way, that penalty was to be his and his alone.

“Get moving. I’ll take her aboard but I have one last duty to perform.”

“Thank you, Commander!”

He watched as Gemma made her way out of the clearing.

Alone with naught but the dead and one injured human, he stood. Then he set his sidearm to maximum.

“I grieve with those who will never know what happened to you. But know your deaths were not in vain. Justice will be served … you will rest in peace,” he murmured just before he fired and incinerated the bodies of the dead around him as well as all their weapons.

There could be no evidence as to the existence of an advanced race. Leaving dead behind—dead whose wounds were produced by highly unconventional weaponry—was in violation of supreme code. Let the local constabularies ponder the burned clearing and conclude what they might. There’d be any number of reasons for such a thing, but none rationally involving advanced races from other worlds.

Like the men he’d just incinerated, no one would ever know what happened to the girl. But if he took her aboard the
Titan
and she
did
live, she could never know this world again. Rules prohibited returning her.

He easily scooped up the injured girl’s body then followed Gemma out of the clearing.

“Enough damage has been done this night,” he called ahead toward Gemma’s quickly retreating form. “We need to be aboard our shuttle, back on the
Titan
, and out of their atmosphere before we’re detected.”

“Understood. I’ll relay the need for alacrity,” Gemma said as she picked up her pace. “And I’ll have a surgical team standing by for the Earther.”

Only a few moments later, but what seemed like a lifetime after the evening’s events, Darius entered their rescue shuttle craft with Gemma.

Barst looked up from the flight controls. “By your command, sir … Goll is in enviro-stasis. I saw to that parasite’s incarceration myself and will make sure he’s secured aboard the
Titan
. He won’t be giving us any problems.”

Darius saw his crewman’s large head tilt in shock. Apparently Barst didn’t believe his eyes. The man was staring down at the body in Darius’s arms.

“In the name of the Creator of all things … who have you brought aboard?”

“She’s an injured Earther,” Gemma explained. “If you’ll take her to the med lab, once we’re aboard, Commander, I’ll ready an incu-unit for her and inject a communo-chip.”

Darius nodded while firing off another order for Barst. “Lift off as soon as possible or Earthers will be crawling all over us. I don’t want any incidents.”

“Yes, sir,” Barst responded.

In moments, their rescue shuttle landed aboard their command craft—the
Titan
.

As landing bay crews scurried about to make sure the hull of the shuttle was decontaminated, Darius carried the unconscious woman to the med lab. Gemma rushed ahead to get her equipment ready.

By the time he entered the state-of-the art medical facility his technicians were so proud of, an almost imperceptible movement of the ship confirmed Barst had put the
Titan
into quasar drive.

He breathed a sigh of relief. Now they could head home. Their assignment was complete.

“Put her there, Commander.” Gemma motioned to the incu-unit closest to her instrument cart.

He lowered the girl into the unit then straightened. His intent was to leave and head to the communication center. Someone needed to speak to the officers there, make sure they monitored Earth transmissions concerning unidentified flying objects. If they were lucky, they’d gotten away with nothing more than a few citizens transmitting news of some small, strange craft in the night sky. It was for that very reason the much smaller crew shuttle had been used as a landing unit.

Just as he was about to turn, something made him glance down. He hesitated then froze in place. Air actually left his lungs when he got his first good look at the woman whose life they’d saved.

There hadn’t been enough time, nor enough distance from nearby homes and businesses to properly illuminate the clearing and get a closer look at a planet considered off limits. Nor had there been time for close scrutiny of anything other than who might or might not be breathing. Now, with pressure off, he took stock of the situation.

If anyone on the bridge needed him, they’d call. That part of him that
wasn’t
on duty—the part below his waist—stirred at the sight of sudden, breathtaking loveliness. That first good look of the rescued victim was the very thing that froze him to the deck.

If a fusion bomb went off next to the ship, he’d have a hard time distinguishing between his response to that, or to this creature lying so still and pale in the incu-unit.

“She’s exquisite,” he murmured as Gemma and several of her assistants bustled and moved equipment.

Their injured Earthling had blood spattered over her clothing, neck, and face. Parts of her uniform were in shreds. All that notwithstanding, her skin was perfect, like the lovely smooth and white lunar stones of his home world. Her pinned-up hair was a soft brown color; golden lights shimmered within the strands. Her features were evenly aligned and delicate. Soft brows gently arched over each eye. Her very slightly upturned nose and high cheeks bore a small spattering of freckles. He noted she was more finely bred than half the debutantes his world presented for his perusal. Her body looked lean and toned. She’d probably be tall and athletic if she were standing. And
unlike
many spoiled and selfish beauties his family shoved at him ad nauseum, this woman had dared face a creature many times more powerful, one who’d killed on numerous worlds and who’d been chased to this end of the galaxy before finally being incarcerated.

Sadly, she hadn’t been privy to that information but she’d bravely faced Goll down even as her comrades fell.

He leaned closer; curiosity over the color of her eyes gripped him.

“Shame,” he softly murmured.

“Commander?” Gemma prompted as she readied her equipment.

“I … I was just thinking that it’s a shame such a beautiful creature might die.”

Gemma looked up from her work then briefly studied her patient. “My … she
is
attractive, isn’t she? Even all that blood doesn’t hide her attributes. For such a small waist and hips, her breasts appear generously ample. Wouldn’t you say so?” she teased.

He straightened and cleared his throat. Now wasn’t the time to indulge in flights of sensual fancy. Certainly not over an injured Earther.

“What news of her condition?” he gruffly asked.

“According to the data being correlated by the incu-unit, she has a good chance to recover. I’ll need to close her off now so the zerion mist can do its job.”

He backed slightly away and watched as Gemma flipped switches that automatically closed the lid to the box-like, silver unit. He stood in silence as the magnetic field modulators were affixed and attuned.

Gemma knew her job. There was no good reason for him to stand there gawking. For the life of him, he simply couldn’t make his booted feet turn and leave the medical facility. But when the staff stared at him, as if his presence was no longer necessary, he knew he’d overstepped a few invisible boundaries. His need was showing.

“Uh … I’d … I’d better get back to the bridge,” he loudly affirmed.

“I’ll relay any changes in her condition,” Gemma said as she grinned up at him. “If she looks so good lying there with a big laser hole in ’er, I’m sure she’ll clean up
quite
prettily.”

He squared his shoulders and glared down at the med-tech.

Good-natured snickers at his discomfort made their way around the space.

“That’s of little to no consequence to me!” he declared, a little too forcibly. “Just … just do what you can to help her. I’ll speak with you about your lack of decorum later!”

He quickly turned and strode away.

• • •

Hours later, Darius ran one hand across the back of his neck and rolled his shoulders in weariness. Since the bridge crew had no immediate need of him or his second-in-command, he and Barst walked to the detainment section. When they got there, they mutually considered their prisoner. Goll was quite thoroughly contained in the stasis cell before them.

“You need to rest,” Barst recommended. “It’s been many hours since we left Earth and you haven’t taken a break.”

Darius stared through the icy-looking clear pane of the unit. Through it Goll appeared even more gruesome than when he’d been awake. Hatred for his captive rose within him like morbid pestilence.

Goll couldn’t see, hear, or move. He wouldn’t need to be fed or removed from the cell for any reason, not until they landed back on Luster. That was the advantage of the stasis technology. A prisoner could be kept there for up to one year, without sustaining permanent injury. Yet, Darius wanted to turn the cell’s controls off, jerk the malignant creature from his cryo-slumbering state, and beat him to death with his own two hands. Nothing would have given him greater pleasure than to tear the filthy murderer apart, bone by nasty bone. Something of his thoughts must have become obvious to Barst. His second-in-command kept trying to get him away from the cell before he acted on impulse.

“Commander, everyone in the Constellation League knows of your loss at the hands of Goll’s sire, but we’re enforcers. We must abide by the law or we become just like those we hunt.” Barst paused and waited for a response. When none came, he tried again. “We’ve been together a long time. I’d hate to see you lose your freedom and your career over
this
bottom-feeding scum. And I’d hate to have to break in another commanding officer. It’s hell on my nerves.”

“I’ll let him live, old friend. Only long enough to see him executed on Luster,” Darius muttered.

“There’s no doubt that will happen. He killed an ambassador, and we witnessed him destroying Earthers. The penalty for just contacting an isolation-class world is life in prison, never mind the murders.”

“I want to be there when he dies,” Darius blurted. “Forgive my callousness but I pray it’s slower than usual.”

“Darius, you need to rest,” Barst reiterated as he dropped his superior’s title. Perhaps you could stop by the med lab and have Gemma concoct some medication or other to help you sleep. Please, old friend … take my advice?” Barst placed his hand on the larger man’s shoulder.

“All right. I’ll do as you recommend.” Darius turned with a sigh. “I want to see how our passenger is doing anyway. Creator only knows what I’m going to do with that one. I’ll stand before High Council for taking her.”

“Gemma will vouch for your reasoning. The woman’s injury was caused by our prisoner. What can the admiral say? Were we supposed to let her lie there, suffering from a horrible wound before she eventually died? We certainly couldn’t kill her, and she had a class one laser wound that could have never been explained to her contemporaries. Worse, she might have been accused of something when she couldn’t rationally explain what happened.”

“True enough,” Darius agreed with a slow nod.

“Besides,” Barst continued, “I popped in and took a look at her, just as Gemma was adjusting a communo-chip. Once the admiral sees that beauty he’ll probably want her aboard
his
ship.”

For some reason, that comment didn’t settle Darius’s nerves. The admiral’s taste concerning young women was notorious. The man wouldn’t give a flaming nova whether the girl in question was sexually compatible. A be-feathered, avian denizen from the outer rings of Moriar, Admiral Tel’duc’t was nothing if not a hedonist. He liked designing new and exotic ways to pleasure himself, and with females from every conceivable species. Sadly, the bastard openly bragged about it. And though the ladies in his company were always quite willing to serve as arm candy for someone as powerful as a League admiral, those same females weren’t well thought of after Tel’duc’t was done with them. Darius slowly frowned, then turned away. His destination was the med lab.