Space Invaders (2 page)

Fuck, he needed sleep.

“So I should go back and tell the sergeant you’re ignoring a direct order?” Barley’s cold eyes glowed with malice.

Anger pulsed through Kres. He knew he was powerless but that didn’t stop him from issuing a threat that would no doubt go unfulfilled. “One of these days you’re going to get what’s coming to you.”

He had to believe that. It was the only thing that kept him from punching Barley in the face and getting court-martialled.

With a final glare at Barley, Kres turned and headed towards the cargo bay.

“Enjoy your shift.” Barley’s mocking laughter followed him down the hall.

Kres wished he could get away with punching the bastard again, but the last time he’d done that, he had been the one who had ended up in the brig for three days while Barley had roamed free. Kres had learnt his lesson. He only did things to Barley when he knew he could get away with them.

Sergeant Wallace gave him a cool look when he arrived. “Took you long enough to get here.”

“I came as soon as I heard you wanted me on guard duty, Sergeant. I just got off a double shift.” Kres didn’t bother to hide the annoyance in his voice. His feet hurt, his back ached and he longed for his hard cot of a bed with a fierce need. At this point, a trip to the brig would at least allow him to get some sleep.

“Then you shouldn’t have volunteered for this one,” the sergeant barked at him.

“I didn’t, Sergeant,” Kres replied through gritted teeth.

“Are you saying Barley is a liar?”

How he longed to say yes.

“I would never say that, Sergeant. But then, as I didn’t volunteer and Barley said you insisted I do this watch, I’ll let you make the judgement call.”

The older man gave him a long, considering gaze. “I like Admiral Tankis. Too bad his son is a prick. Unfortunately, because you were volunteered, I let my other guard go. I’m going to need you to take this shift, soldier, and then I’ll make sure Barley takes the next three.”

The thought of Barley watching animals for one evening much less three drained away most of Kres’ anger. “I’ll do my duty.”

The sergeant slapped Kres on the back, almost knocking the wind out of him. “I knew I could count on you. You’re a good man, Piers.”

Kres didn’t think a good man would enjoy the thought of his enemy’s punishment, but he wasn’t going to argue. “What do I need to do?”

“Keep an eye out that no one bothers the animals. Check on them if they make any noise. There’s been word that someone might be after the Thresl before he makes it to Callavar.” The sergeant pointed towards the huge cage in the corner.

Kres nodded. “I’ll keep a close watch on him.”

Thresls were rare shape-shifters—cat hybrids—that, once bonded with their owners, could take any form. However, the beasts were picky about who they bonded with and often wouldn’t stay with their owner if the Thresl found them unworthy. That fact didn’t stop black market thieves from snatching the creatures whenever they could. The rich considered owning a Thresl prestigious and would pay outrageous amounts to have one of their own, even if they had to keep it in a cage for the rest of its life. Kres felt sorry for the beasts.

After the sergeant had left, Kres walked amongst the rows of cages, peeking through the grates. Most of the creatures were sleeping. A low growl had him walking towards the Thresl’s cage, sweeping his flashlight back and forth to see if there was a reason behind the animal’s noises or if simple restlessness made it pace.

Careful to keep his steps quiet in case an intruder was hidden in the hold, Kres approached the Thresl’s location. A quick glance around showed no one immediately near the enormous cage. To be thorough, Kres walked all the way around the container. Unable to resist, he peeked inside. A pair of gold eyes peered back. Kres respectfully kept his distance. He’d heard about these creatures mauling people through the bars. The new criss-cross caging supposedly prevented that, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

“I don’t see anything, pretty kitty,” Kres crooned to the animal. As if intrigued by his voice, the large cat moved closer to the latched door. The beast’s red and black markings shifted beneath the shadows and limited lighting. Unless there was active loading or unloading, they kept the lights low in the cargo hold in order to preserve power.

The cat gave another growl.

Kres spread his empty hands to show he meant no harm. “I’m not going to mess with you. I’ve heard how dangerous you are.” He stepped back from the cage and looked around. Nothing.

The animal made a low purring noise. Curious, Kres peeked inside again.

“You sure are a pretty thing.”

“Talking to the animals now, are we?”

Kres spun around.

Barley and two of his goons, Stanner and Philson, smiled at him, but the look in their eyes was anything but friendly.

“What do you want, Barley?” Kres looked back and forth between the three men. He knew in his gut that this time they meant to do more than just a little harassment. He could almost feel the antagonism pouring off Barley.

“You told Sergeant Wallace I volunteered you,” Barley accused.

“You did.”

“Why can’t you just take your punishment like a man?”

“Because you aren’t supposed to be fucking punishing anyone. You think you can do anything you like, but you’re just an asshole with a father who gets you out of trouble.”

It was like an alien had taken over his mouth and was making him blurt out things he was definitely going to pay for later. Why couldn’t he shut the hell up?

“Grab him,” Barley ordered.

Barley’s goons each took one of Kres’ arms and slammed him against the Thresl’s cage.

Kres wasn’t the type to go down without a fight. Using the goons as leverage, he jumped up and kicked Barley in the face. A satisfying crunch echoed in the hold. Kres smiled at the thought of breaking Barley’s nose.

“You bastard! I’m gonna kill you now!” Barley screamed.

Blood poured down Barley’s face as he pulled back his arm. He slammed down his fist, evidently intent on doing as much damage as possible, but Kres ducked and Barley hit the metal bars of the cage. Barley screamed with pain as his fingers crashed into the iron rods.

“I said hold him!” Barley shouted.

Stanner and Philson pinned Kres tighter against the Thresl’s cage. Kres knew this time there was no getting out of it.

Bracing his body to take Barley’s punch, Kres was unprepared for the door at his back to swing inward. Two clawed hands slashed out, swiping long bloody trails across both of the men holding Kres. Blood splashed out of their wounds as they screamed in pain.

Barley’s eyes rolled in panic. With a low, savage roar, the Thresl jumped at Kres, shoving him to one side. For a brief, frightening moment he could feel the beast’s large fangs at his throat. Turning his head, Kres bared his throat, freezing his movements and hoping the animal could sense that he meant no harm.

This was it, his last few seconds of life.

Yet, despite Kres’ dire predictions, the Thresl licked a spot on his neck then leapt at Barley. With vicious precision, the creature lacerated Barley’s face with his claws, leaving bloody trails in their wake.

Kres raced past the shouting men to reach the intercom. Pressing the button, he yelled into the receiver, “Emergency on the cargo deck! Emergency!”

A high-pitched scream pierced the air as Barley fell beneath the Thresl’s wrath.

“Shit! No. Don’t kill him,” Kres commanded.

To his surprise, the creature froze. Leaning over Barley, he bared his fangs. Long and curved, they were razor sharp and dripping with saliva.

Barley let out a whimper as his men cowered in the corner as far from the Thresl as they could get. The creature was blocking their escape route, and neither of them was in any condition to battle a Thresl.

Before Kres could think of what to do, a squad of soldiers rushed onto the cargo deck. Weapons raised, they surrounded the Thresl.

“Don’t shoot him!” Kres shouted. “He was protecting me.”

Instinct had Kres stepping up to the creature. “Come on. See, I’m not hurt. You stopped the bad men in time.”

The loud snarling dimmed to a low growl.

Sergeant Wallace shoved his way through the sea of soldiers.

“What happened here?” he demanded.

“Barley showed up with his friends and decided to beat me up. The Thresl stopped them.”

The ship’s captain arrived in time to hear the accusation. “That’s a serious charge, Lieutenant. Why would Lieutenant Barley want to attack you?” Captain Thomson asked.

“I don’t know, probably because that’s what he does whenever he thinks he can get away with it,” Kres snapped.

“Don’t listen to him!” Barley screamed. “He sicced that creature on us. I want justice.” He clutched at his face with one bloody hand.

“You’ll have it,” the sergeant promised. Kres’ heart sank in his chest. He was finally going to get the prison sentence Barley planned for him. He’d eluded it until now, but Barley wouldn’t give up until Kres spent the rest of his life in a smaller cage than the Thresl.

The Thresl moved away from Barley and went to sit beside Kres. The animal sat upright, curling his tail around his body, a low purr vibrating his chest.

A group of four men wearing medic uniforms rushed over to the fallen men. They sprayed sealant on the open wounds and bound Barley’s face with gauze.

“Take them to the medic ward,” the captain ordered. “We’ll deal with them later.”

As the trio left the area, Wallace turned to the captain. “After we had a few thefts last year, I added a new camera system to the cargo hold. We can review the recording here.”

Pulling a remote out of his pocket, the sergeant pressed a few buttons. Two wall panels pulled apart, revealing a large flat screen monitor.

“Now see here, Sergeant. Don’t you think this should be shown in a more private location?” the captain protested.

“No. I’ve looked at Lieutenant Barley’s record, and for some reason, all the evidence of whatever he’s accused of always mysteriously disappears. I want there to be witnesses,” Wallace replied.

The monitor flickered on and, after the sergeant reversed the digital recording, everyone watched as Barley attacked Kres.

Captain Thomson viewed the entire scene in silence. “After they leave the medic ward, Barley, Stanner and Philson will be confined to the brig until we reach port.”

The Thresl licked his bloody claws.

Captain Thomson started shouting orders, concluding with, “Everyone clear the area except Sergeant Wallace and Lieutenant Piers.”

The captain waited until everyone was gone before turning to Kres. “It seems we have a problem here, Lieutenant Piers.”

“I’m so sorry, Captain Thomson,” Kres said. “I really don’t know why Barley hates me.”

Sergeant Wallace laughed. “Probably because you’re smarter, better looking, and people actually like you.”

The captain smiled and slapped Sergeant Wallace on the back. “I’m so glad you recorded the incident, Wallace. I’ve been trying to pin something on that pompous ass since he walked onto my ship. I hate punk kids who ride on their parents’ glory.”

“So I’m not in trouble?” Kres asked. He couldn’t believe he was getting out of this, and Barley was actually receiving the punishment he deserved. It was like a living dream.

“There is the problem of the Thresl…” Captain Thomson said.

“I didn’t let him free, Captain, I promise. His cage just came open.”

“I saw,” the captain agreed. “But he’s still imprinted on you.”

Kres stared at the creature in horror. “Imprinted? No. He can’t be. He’s meant for an ambassador or someone.” This was awful. A million-dollar Thresl imprinted on a lieutenant with little money and no pedigree. “We’ll put him back in the cage. He’ll be fine.”

He looked down at the cat creature blinking up at him with gold eyes. “Go back into the cage, Thresl,” Kres said in a soothing tone. “Go on now.” He made a shooing motion with his hand. The Thresl rubbed his enormous head against Kres’ stomach, a low purr rolling up from his throat.

“Yours,”
a voice whispered inside Kres’ head.

“Oh, no, no, no. Not mine.”

“Did it talk?” the captain asked curiously. “I’d heard they can sometimes mentally communicate with their bonded humans. They are an interesting breed.”

“I can’t have a Thresl. I can barely take care of myself,” Kres objected.

“We’ll have to explain to the ambassador why his present is no longer going to work.” The captain gave him a smile. “I’ll put that on Barley’s shoulders also.”

“What do I do with the Thresl?” Kres asked, bewildered.

“You’ll have to be transferred to the Thresl training facility,” the captain said. “It’s located on the moon of their home planet of Nillre. That’s the only place that conducts proper Thresl orientation. Once your training is complete, you can come back to your position as a fighting team or you can join the troops on Nillre. Since we’re allies, either military group would take you. Unfortunately, you’ll be useless until you’ve finished imprinting with the beast.” The captain gave him a measuring look. “Consider yourself lucky. Not very many have the privilege of a Thresl bonding.”