Blood Thirsty (Tri System's Edge Series Book 2) Page 16

  “Maybe,” she replied, “but they’re a long way from home, which makes me wonder. Maybe they know something about Quinn, like where we can find him. Might be better than our blind searching.”

  “And how exactly would you go about getting any information from them?” Davis asked.

  “Let me handle that,” she replied with a grin. “Let’s follow their order. Go ahead and dock.”

  Jarek furrowed his brow. “What about the cargo? Don’t you have some Directive property on board?”

  Kalla smiled. “Oh, don’t you worry. This isn’t my first run-in with the Directive. Just take us in slow,” she said to Davis. “I’ll make sure everything in the cargo hold is secure.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Davis replied.

  Kalla rushed to the back of her ship. Near the inside hatch to the cargo hold was a control panel, and she pressed a combination of keys, opening several compartments on the floor. She entered the room and walked toward a stack of Directive crates, opening them one by one and transferring their entire contents into the compartments. When she finished, Kalla checked to make sure everything else in the cargo hold was secure. Then she headed back to the main hallway of her ship.

  She closed the cargo bay door and reached up to the control console on the wall. “Ignore the alert,” she yelled toward the cockpit.

  “What alert?” Jarek yelled back.

  A loud warning siren suddenly filled the ship with its repeating sound as Kalla opened the outer bay doors. Almost instantly, the air was sucked out of the room, and she watched as the empty Directive crates were sucked into the vacuum of space. With the room finally clear, she stared for a moment at the handful of floating objects still tethered to the floor and walls. The room seemed so peaceful now, and a part of her wished she could linger and enjoy the serenity of it all. But it didn’t take long for the blaring siren to steal the moment away, snapping her awake from the trance.

  She punched in more numbers on the control panel and watched through the window again as the outer doors closed, and the room pressurized. The siren automatically shut off, and Kalla turned and headed back to the cockpit.

  “What was that all about?” Jarek asked.

  “Nothing,” she replied, with a shrug and a grin. “Just throwing out some trash.”

  “You sure about this then?” Davis asked. “Not that I’m too worried, but this will go a lot easier if we can stay on their good side.”

  “Just let me do the talking,” Kalla insisted.

  Davis nodded and focused on piloting the ship.

  “So did they tell you where to land?” Kalla asked.

  “Yeah, the docking bay is on the port side of the ship, somewhere near the middle,” Davis answered. “Looks like that’s it.” He pointed to a large opening as he steered Kalla’s small craft alongside the massive Directive battleship.

  “Good. When we land, I want both of you to stay onboard. I have a plan.”

  “I don’t think so,” Jarek protested. “We should stick together. Strength in numbers, and all.”

  Kalla made eye contact with Jarek and said, “Look, this isn’t my first run-in with the Directive. So trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

  “I don’t care what you think you know, Kalla. I’m coming with you,” Jarek shot back with a straight face. “Our plans haven’t seemed to work out too well lately, so when things go south, I’d rather we’re all together.”

  “Davis, too?” Kalla asked.

  Jarek looked at Davis, who, though still trying to focus on landing, had clearly lost some of his concentration. “Yeah, Davis is coming with us, too.”

  “I’m really fine just staying on the ship,” Davis objected. “If they find out I used to work with the general, that might be . . .”

  “He’s got a point,” Kalla agreed. “I say Davis definitely stays here, and I’ll let you come with me.”

  “You’ll let me come?” Jarek shook his head and began to laugh, then stood up and grabbed Kalla’s arm and pulled her close. He stared into her eyes and smiled. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not exactly a helpless little child,” he said.

  Kalla could feel an unpleasant tension in the moment, but she remained still and let Jarek finish.

  “I could take out everyone on that ship by myself if I wanted to, and they couldn’t stop me.” He’d begun squeezing Kalla’s arms and his face showed some of the anger he felt as he spoke.

  She smiled and gently ran her hands across his chest, causing his grip to release a little. “I know,” she said softly. “That’s why I want you both to stay here.”

  Jarek released his grip and backed away. “I . . . I’m sorry,” he mumbled, as he turned away from her.

  “As much as I hate to say it, the Directive really are the good guys in all this. Any problems I had with them in the past were because of choices I made. But they’re just trying to keep the peace.” She put her arms around Jarek’s waist, and snuggled her head into his back. “Maybe they can help us,” she said. “Will you just give me a chance to go alone, let me see what I can do first? If there’s trouble, I’m sure you’ll know, and then you can come save me.”

  Jarek slowly nodded. “Yeah, I guess so. But I still don’t like it.”

  “We’re about to land,” Davis interrupted. “So are we all staying or going?”

  Kalla grabbed Jarek’s hand and led him to the front of the cockpit. “Just give me a couple hours. If you haven’t heard anything from me by then, feel free to come looking.”

  The ship glided through the large docking bay entrance and hovered toward an open platform. Once in place, Davis landed the ship and powering down the engines. “This should be interesting,” he said.

  Kalla watched through the front window as soldiers surrounded her ship. “Guess I should get out there and say hi,” she said.

  “Just be careful,” Jarek said, as she left the cockpit.

  “I got this,” she called out. When she reached the front exit, she opened the door and waited as the exit ramp lowered, then she stepped out and walked down to the landing pad where she found herself surrounded by Directive soldiers. There had to be several dozen on the platform, all of them wearing dark gray armored suits, with their weapons trained on her.

  “This is hostile territory,” a man’s voice said.

  Kalla followed the sound and to a group of soldiers surrounding a man in uniform. He stood safely behind two rows of armed men.

  “To find a small ship like yours out here makes me think you’re up to no good,” he went on.

  “I’m looking for someone,” Kalla replied.

  “It’s an awfully big place to be looking for one person. Perhaps we can help?”

  “I hope so,” Kalla answered. She ignored the insincerity in the man’s tone. “His name is Quinn, and he’s a militia general . . . an enemy of the Directive.”

  A look of concern washed over the man’s face. “We have no real enemies,” he replied with a faint tremble in his voice. “Just criminals and smugglers, which you appear to be.”

  As calmly as she could manage, Kalla said, “You really don’t know anything about me.” Then, taking a deep breath in an effort to calm down, she said, “Look, I really could use your help. I’m not looking for any trouble here.”

  “There’s a man aboard your ship. If you’re not looking for trouble, why are you alone? Where’s the man we spoke to?”

  “Still onboard. He’s no one important, just a member of my crew.”

  “And how many more in your crew?”

  The questioning was beginning to annoy Kalla, but she reminded herself of what she’d told Jarek: these were the good guys. “If I answer all your questions, will you promise to help me?”

  The man rubbed his chin for a moment and appeared to consider her offer. “Deal,” he finally said.

  “There’s three of us. Myself and two men.”

  “And the man you’re looking for—this so-called general mentioned—why are you looking for him?�
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  “You’ve really never had any run-ins with his militia?”

  The man hesitated. “Uh no. Of course not.”

  Kalla shook her head. “I don’t believe you, but it doesn’t matter. If he’s not stopped—”

  “And who are you, thinking you could stop someone so dangerous?” the man interrupted.

  “Like I said, you don’t know anything about me,” Kalla replied with a big grin.

  “Commander,” another voice called out from across the room. “I’ll take it from here.” The man stepped out from behind a line of soldiers and walked toward Kalla. “I’m Captain Wolfe,” he said as he approached. “What can you tell me about this militia?”

  Kalla looked at the captain, but didn’t answer him immediately. He was older, probably in his late fifties, she guessed. His uniform was different than those of his soldiers. While most of the men were covered in body armor, he was not. What stood out the most to her though were his eyes. There was no hostility in them, just worry.

  “Kalla,” she said.

  “What?”

  “My name. It’s Kalla,” she repeated.

  “My apologies. I’m Jonas,” the captain replied, as he extended his hand.

  Kalla shook it and smiled politely. “Do you have a place we can talk?”

  “Yes.” He turned toward the other man in uniform and said, “Commander, order your men to stand down, and please come and join us on the bridge.”

  “Sir?” the commander replied, clearly not happy with this idea.

  “That’s an order.”

  The commander hesitated for a moment, then yelled, “Stand down, men. Back to your stations.”

  In an organized manner, the soldiers cleared the area.

  The captain looked at her waist and said, “May I ask that you either turn over your pistols, or leave them on your ship?”

  Kalla nodded, unclasped the gun belt, then slid it off. She turned around and walked back to her ship, where she laid the weapons on the ramp. “Satisfied?” she asked.

  The captain nodded, then walked toward an exit, motioning for Kalla to follow. “I assume your men will remain on your ship?” he asked.

  “Yes, if that’s alright,” Kalla replied.

  “Commander, have a squadron stand guard around her ship, but make sure it’s left alone.”

  “Yes, sir,” Commander Wood replied. “I’ll join you both shortly.”

  ~

  The commander approached Captain Wolfe’s office and pressed the access button. The door slid open and he peeked inside.

  “Tom, come in. Take a seat,” the captain said, pointing to an empty chair to the side of the desk.

  Commander Wood stepped inside and shut the door behind him, then he sat down. Kalla glanced at him with a partial smile, and he returned the gesture with a forced smile of his own.

  “Kalla was just telling me about the militia, and how they have some pretty large operations on at least two planets. And it seems the ship we saw was most likely one of theirs, as well.”

  Wood smiled and nodded, though he didn’t approve of this meeting one bit. The woman’s ship had been roaming through known hostile territory, and he didn’t trust her. “If this militia actually exists, and if the ship we saw was indeed theirs, why didn’t they attack us?”

  The captain turned to Kalla with raised eyebrows. “He makes a good point. Do you have an explanation?”

  Kalla leaned forward in her chair and stared the captain down. “I have a hunch, but you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

  Wood paid close attention to the captain’s reaction and felt some relief that his commanding officer appeared to harbor a few doubts about what this woman was telling them. He turned to Kalla and said, “Why don’t you just tell us, and let us decide for ourselves.”

  “Look,” she said, now on her feet, “I don’t have time for all these questions. Are you going to give me the location of the ship you found, or not?”

  “The way I see it, you don’t really have a choice,” Commander Wood said, having stood up with her, pistol in hand.

  She glanced at the gun and then broke out in laughter and plopped back down in the chair. “You guys seriously have no clue,” she managed.

  The two men looked at one another in confusion.

  “Sir, if I may—”

  “Holster your gun, Tom,” the captain ordered. He turned to Kalla again and said, “You’re right, we don’t know what’s going on here, but my gut tells me that something isn’t right with any of this.”

  Kalla sat up straight and nodded. “You’re right about that, but I’m not the threat. Unless you’d like to make me one.”

  The room fell silent, but Wood’s heart was racing so fast he could almost hear it. She wasn’t telling them everything, and it made him nervous. He’d complied with the captain’s earlier order to holster his gun, but he’d kept his hand on the butt of the pistol, expecting that he would probably have to use it before this meeting was finished.

  “I’m not a threat,” Kalla said, breaking the uncomfortable silence in the room. “But I also don’t have time to explain everything to you. The general is a dangerous man who needs to be stopped, so if you know where he is, or even where he might be, just tell me, and I’ll be on my way.”

  The captain took a deep breath and rubbed his chin between. “If this man is so dangerous, what can a petite little thing like you possibly do?”

  “Yeah,” Commander Wood echoed, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

  Kalla stood up slowly and faced the commander. “I know you’ve kept your hand near your pistol. If I were in your shoes, I’d have done the same thing. So pull it out and shoot me.”

  “What? Are you crazy?” he asked. He turned to the captain for help, but was met by a confused look and a shrug. Wood turned back to Kalla and said, “I’m not going to shoot you just because you asked me to.”

  Without hesitating, Kalla reached for the dagger on her belt. “This will work just fine then,” she said, as she pulled it from its sheath.

  The commander had already drawn his weapon and was in a firing stance. “Drop the knife,” he demanded.

  Kalla ignored the request and plunged the knife through her hand, wincing from the pain it caused. Then she yanked it back out.

  “Are you insane?” Commander Wood yelled.

  “Tom, calm down,” the captain ordered, though he, too, was visibly disturbed by the act.

  “It’s fine,” she insisted, wiping the blood on her pants, then holding her hand out for them to see.

  “Impossible,” the commander said, as he watched the wound heal on its own, right before his eyes. He slowly lowered the gun, realizing now that it probably wouldn’t do him any good to use it on her, even if he had to.

  “Who . . . what are you?” the captain asked.

  “Like I said before, I really don’t have time to explain everything.” She leaned over the captain’s desk and made eye contact with him. “You said you saw a battleship, right?”

  Almost as if in a trance, the captain nodded.

  “Where was the ship?”

  “We’re tracking it,” he replied. “Tom, please give her the ship’s coordinates.”

  “But Captain . . .”

  “That’s an order, Tom.”

  Commander Wood stood up, clenching his teeth. “Follow me,” he said to Kalla.

  She stayed fixed on the captain and said, “Once I have the coordinates, you need to let us leave, and you need to get out of here.”

  Again, the captain nodded. “See her to her ship when you’re done, Tom.”

  Keeping a straight face, Wood said, “Yes, sir.”

  “Thank you for the help,” Kalla said with a smile. She pushed herself from the desk and turned toward the door, where Wood stood waiting. “Let’s go, then,” she said.

  The door slid open and Wood motioned to Kalla. “After you,” he said.

  “No, please, lead the way,” she replied.

  H
e reminded himself that he was under orders and forced a smile. “Follow me, then,” he said before stepping outside the captain’s office and onto the bridge.

  C

  HAPTER 18

  The general recognized the ship—a Directive battleship. “They never come out this far,” he blurted, staring at the ship out the viewport, and waiting for it to make the first move.

  After several stressful minutes that felt more like hours, the Directive ship broke the silence. Over the speakers, Quinn heard static mixed with a patchy voice. But he didn’t bother trying to respond, knowing it was no use with the damaged comm system. Instead, he walked back to the captain’s chair and sat down, listening as the crew on the Directive ship made multiple attempts to contact him.

  He found himself wondering what he’d do if he were even able to respond, and decided that if his ship were in full working order, he’d have ignored the Directive ship anyway. And if he had a crew, he’d have ordered a full-on attack. The idea of it brought a smile to his face, but as he leaned back in his chair, reality began to sink in. He had no crew, and most of the ship’s systems were either down or badly damaged. He was unable to attack and unable to flee. His life was in the hands of the Directive now, and there was nothing he could do about it.

  General Quinn took in a deep breath and exhaled with a mild growl. Static from the intercom filled the room again, then the system went quiet. Several minutes later, more static, then silence. The cycle continued for nearly an hour before the general concluded the Directive ship probably wouldn’t attack, and it occurred to him that they might even send a team over to investigate. If they did, he’d be able to play the victim, and use them to get what he needed.

  The challenge, of course, was that his ship was still overrun by the Vie. If any Directive soldiers did come aboard, it was unlikely they’d make it off alive. If the crew of the Directive ship believed his ship was a threat in any way, they might just try to blow it up, and that particular outcome did not interest the general in the least.

  He moved to the control panel and initiated the docking bay pressure shield. Once it was activated, he unlocked and opened the outer bay doors. Then he jumped to his feet and headed to the blast door. With the comm system down, he would need to be in the docking bay if anyone showed up.