The icy rain fell silently. Just enough to keep the temperature above freezing and wet the foliage.
Galea shivered in the ensuing cold. She pulled the regulation uniform closer, covering her chest area as best she was able with the snug-fitting over-jacket. Her fingers were numb and unresponsive, her legs cramping terribly from the time spent crouched in this relative place of safety.
The young female glanced about the musky, dark alcove for the hundredth time. The thick overhang of tangled branches, high weeds and clustered bushes were just one of many amassing the entire area encompassing her vision.
She looked across the wide space, spotting places of concealment, knowing soon she would have to make her way out of the watery valley up into the mountain region further north.
There, perhaps, she could construct a method of communication with the ship. She knew they crew constantly monitored the more primitive mountain villages for signs of civil unrest.
Galea S’lar had no equipment, no provisions, no water, however...nothing. The chance that she could conceivably find the raw materials needed to construct even the simplest transmitter was minimal at best.
But...she could not allow herself to think that way.
The woman forced the hopelessness aside, which was not simple in itself, for her present state of mind was far from optimistic.
Night was fast approaching. The twin moon’s pale outline could be seen just spreading their silvery rays along the mammoth outline of jutting mountain peaks which surrounded the entire valley.
The girl picked up a clump of soft mad from the soil beside her, smearing it about her face, hands and clothing. The first few applications had dried. She hoped, against hope, that her scent was, at least partially erased.
The creatures inhabiting this world were possessed with an uncanny sense of smell. How she had eluded them thus far was sheer luck.
It was only a matter of time before the inevitable.
As Galea sat, waiting for the dusk to fall, her thoughts turned introspective.
For the second time in her life in less than twenty-four hours, the young female felt fear. It was a unique sensation, extremely acute...a tangible force inside her.
She wondered fleetingly if she feared death or capture more. With these creatures, death would certainly be preferable.
Galea stopped such an unproductive line of thought, closing her eyes to physically aid the endeavor. Doing so reminder her how exhausted she was, however and it was difficult to find the strength to re-open the crystal blue orbs.
She wanted desperately to rest...to sleep...to forget.
She started at a sound. A large rodent-type mammal scurried very close by her hiding place. Galea shivered involuntarily, the sharp-toothed animal disgustingly slimy in appearance.
She would not sleep. That was clear enough. No, there would be no sleep this night.
For a brief millisecond, Galea wished fervently that M’Kal was once again her ship’s Commander. For that one moment in time, she allowed herself the luxury of such a soothing thought.
It would be pleasant to turn all her woes over to someone she instinctively knew, would handle them infinitely better than she, herself, ever could.
Had there ever been an instant the Giaian Commander had not been in control of any given situation? She, personally, had never witnessed such an incident.
But, just as quickly as the thought had come, it was dismissed. Better Trilian...yes, of course! The Gylor. Her friend. Better Trilian to assist her.
He, too, was never at a loss. And, Trilian had not hurt her as M’Kal had. Had not embarrassed her before her peers...had not forced her to resign a promising post...had not taken what few friends she possessed from her.
Because of the Commander, she was in the trouble she was in! Had she not been forced to transfer to the Nebula Star, she would not be in the predicament she was in.
No! No, of course that was not true.
Galea shook her head mentally at such rambling. Perhaps she was more weary than first she thought.
She settled her mind, following an Ancient Gylorian technique taught her by Trilian some time ago. Try as she might, however, the young woman could not concentrate, failing miserably in her attempt for once.
Trilian would be very disappointed in her, she realized. She was disappointed in herself.
But her mind was too full. The memories too fresh...the trauma too real.
Gala knew she must block the painful visions at this time wee she to retain control of her faculties. She must concentrate only on survival. She must not think about...the other.
In Orbit: Around Pyrus IV /Bridge Of The Flagship: Galleon
“Why are we here, M’Kal?”
The question was a valid one, granted, but it annoyed the being all the same. He was not in the habit of having his authority questioned. No matter the cause.
“We are here, Physician...” The being turned a disapproving glare to his friend and constant companion, “Because this is where I said we are to ‘be’.”
M’Kal had kept his tone as low as his Chief Medical Officer had. He sensed a ‘lecture’ forthcoming. The Commander had suffered through two full lunar months of such proceedings.
“We are ‘here’...” The older being chose to ignore the characteristic callousness of his Commander’s retort, as was often his way, especially of late. M’Kal’s moods had grown progressively darker, more volatile.
But, T’eon understood why. “Because the ‘Nebula Star’ is ‘here.’ And where the ‘Nebula Star’ is...Galea S’Lar is, also. That...is why we are ‘here’. When are you going to admit your involvement with her?”
“Your association with the ‘Earthers’ has tainted your ability to see matters as they truly are.” The Commander turned lazily in his Command chair, his keen eyes scrutinizing the efforts of his bridge crew. “I was given orders to proceed here by the Council itself, as you are already aware.”
“Then why did you order the sensor-probes on the planet for a human/Giaian hybrid only if we are to local the Commander and his party?”
“The ‘New Ones’ are too closely identified with our own species.” M’Kal answered dutifully. “A ‘human’...is not...is it.” He lifted a questioning brow.
He lifted himself from his chair in a leisurely fashion. “I assume she will be with her team, ergo. We locate her...we locate Commander K’Xoic.”
“... ‘It?’ You think of Galea S’lar as an ‘It’, Commander?” T’eon smiled his disbelief, teasing his friend openly.
“I do not think of her at all.” The Commander mumbled, an attractive scowl darkening his features. “...How long does it take to carry out a command Helmsman? I ordered this search 7.3 hours ago! Are my people becoming lax in their duties?”
“It is a very large planet, Lord.” One burly crew member answered in lieu of any other willing to take such a risk, all acutely aware of their Command’s unreasoning anger of late. “It would take 17.9 solar days to search the land surface alone.”
“I do not have 17.9 solar days!” M’Kal vented his rage gratefully.
“We will find Commander K’xoic, M’Kal.” The sultry voice ceased any further confrontation for the moment.
The Commander turned a heated glance to the approaching figure, his mood no better for the obvious attempt to placate him.
“Be patient but a while longer with them.” The beautiful female placed a calming hand on the huge biceps, her eyes allowing their involvement even here among his men.
M’Kal looked indifferently to the contact but his voice held his disdain as he spoke. “I do not like to be ...touched.” He lifted cold eyes to emphasize his point.
The contact was slowly severed but the female clearly took no offense. “You did not mind being ‘touched’ last evening.”
“Yes, I did.” M’Kal corrected easily, aware the physician had remained stationary and was privy to all being said. He oddly, was pleased to allow T’eon’s clear breech of protocol for once. “I simply needed diversion.”
“You can be so cold and indifferent, M’Kal.” The female smiled provocatively. “I find that very appealing in a male.”
M’Kal lifted his head, his expression carefully neutral.
“But, you are other things as well.” She continued, sensing even now she was pushing the limits the being would allow. “The most powerful Fleet Commander under the Council’s rule, for instance.” She moved decidedly closer. “Power can be a very potent...aphrodisiac, I am told.”
“Return to your post.” The Giaian was unmoved by such praise.
The female prepared to take her leave with an almost playful shrug of the well-developed but undeniably feminine shoulders. “A good enough vantage point from which to watch you work your magic.”
M’Kal’s attention returned to the view-screen. He scanned the browns and greens fo the land mass on the planet, the preceding incident already forgotten.
He absently sat into the rigid confides of his Command chair, knowing he would have to wait this interminable period out no matter the cost.
He dreaded inaction above all else. It was not something at which he excelled. One of the few things.
“Your taste has deteriorated, my friend.”
M’Kal did not take his eyes from the screen, having expected a comment from the physician. “She is a very beautiful female, not to mention... intelligent. Be honest, T’eon.”
“Galea is beautiful and possesses twice the intelligence.”
“She is not beautiful.” M’Kal was not aware of the edge to his voice. “Not truly and as for her intelligence? I personally, think that a very doubtful proclamation.”
“You said yourself she was beautiful. Do you not remember?”
“No, I do not!” The Commander grated his weariness. “Nor do I wish these constant reminders of what once was! Do I make myself clear on this, T’eon?”
“It is my duty to point out your mistakes, Lord.” T’eon remarked quietly. “I am also your friend and wish what is best for you.”
“Only I may judge such a matter.” M’Kal arose, somewhat agitated but more from the waiting than any real anger. “For only I know what is in my hearts.”
“And this one?” T’eon motioned across the way, his look untroubled. “She...is in your hearts?”
The Giaian refused a direct reply. “...At least she is my own kind.”
T’eon prepared to take his leave, having no more stomach for such speech. “Perhaps she is at that...” He showed his distaste. “If you truly believe what you just implied.”
He walked a good measure away, preferring to flirt with the bio-technician who busied herself at her station off to M’Kal’s right.
Pyrus IV Planet Surface
Galea could not stop the bleeding for the gash was deep. She re-wrapped the useless arm as best she was able, using the strips of cloth torn from the lining of her jacket.
Each movement sent agonizing shafts of stark pain throughout the slender torso. She tentatively felt the left side of her body, her touch delicate but she winced with each point of contact.
Her leg, she had hurt on the fall down the cliff side. She glanced at the blood-soaked patch of fabric covering the area. Her ribs...she thought perhaps the creatures had broken during the initial struggle upon first capture.
The leg was functional, to a degree. It had been a stupid mistake on her part but the loss of blood had weakened her terribly. She had fallen.
Her fingers were too cold, too numb to respond as she had commanded and she had lost her grip, sliding a very long way down the cliff-side, before being able to stop her descent. The rugged landscape had done nothing to cushion her fall.
The gash in her arm was from one of their weapons. For three days now, it had throbbed incessantly, and it hurt terribly.
She blocked a good deal of the pain with the mind technique Trilian had taught her but she could not block the fever from the ensuing infection.
That these were the least of her worries somehow did not reassure her.
Still...she was alive. The others were not.
The others were...dead.
For a moment, it was difficult to remember if that was a good thing...or bad. She shook her head to clear it, gasping as the stabbing agony pierced through her mind and body yet again.
Galea struggled silently to her feet, knowing she had to arise. To move on. To force herself do so, but her unsteady legs gave way instantly.
She hit the ground hard, the red-hot pain of contact jarring her senses. She sank, unconscious, into the white void of blessed peace.
All coherent thought ceasing abruptly.
Orbit: Pyrus IV/ Bridge Section: The Galleon
M’Kal sat bolt upright in his Command chair, his senses strained...alert. He waited, on edge, knowing something was wrong, knowing he must act.
T’are, his guard, stepped forward, having witnessed the unusual occurrence. He hesitated visibly. “Trouble, Lord? ...I may assist?”
M’Kal held up a silencing hand abruptly, still too attuned to what his mind was allowing, to acknowledge the interruption.
T’eon approached, his brow furrowed, his eyes trained on the younger Giaian’s averted profile.
All were silent, reading their Commander’s features, feeling his alarm.
Out of the silence came...nothing of value, however. The moment was over. Fleeting though it had been.
M’Kal settled back absently in his chair, his mind far from resolved. A feeling of deep unrest...uneasiness...urgency still very much within his soul.
“I want the hybrid found!” He barked his command, his frustrations released in the sharp thud of his mammoth fist against the arm of the chair.
“What was it, M’Kal?” T’eon stepped to the being, concern etched on the still handsome, though lined features. “...What?”
The being was glad to be offered an avenue of escape for his mental anguish, immediately responsive to the inquiry.
“I...do not know.” He hesitated, realizing his tone was too sharp. “I do not...know.” He deliberately calmed the confusion of his normally concise, analytical mind along with the irrational anger he was experiencing.
“Something!” Of that, he was positive, the vestiges of whatever it had been still lingering deep within the recesses of his subconscious,
“Nothing perhaps.” It was disgusted, his failed attempts to reach a conclusion hampered by such public surroundings. “A...feeling.”
He waved aside the annoyance he felt with himself for his inadequacies.
“Concentrate!” T’eon lowered his voice, sensing the being needed to explore the problem upsetting him. “Perhaps it will return.”
M’Kal shook his head minutely. “All I received was...pain. A moment of unbearable pain.” He absently glanced about the bridge scene.
His people busied themselves at their various duties, for which he was pleased. If they were interested in the affairs taking place, at least they were pretending otherwise. “..And..then it was gone.” He sighed heavily.
“Who?...Who was in pain?” T’eon puzzled.
“I do not know.”
“No image?” The physician persisted. “Nothing?”
“...No.” M’Kal lied. But he realized, there had been no reason to do so.
T’eon nodded thoughtfully but held his peace.
“The area we just passed...” M’Kal moved on instinct, for he had little else. The helmsman waited alertly for him to complete his thought. “Examine it again!”
M’Kal forced himself to settle back, his hands to ease their grip on his armrests.
So...why had he lied to his friend? It troubled him greatly. He refused to look to the being beside him.
He knew full well who had been in ‘pain’...he had sensed it beyond doubt. He had seen the image clearly in his mind’s eye.
He should not have lied.
Pyrus IV
Galea lay very still. Even though her consciousness had returned several minutes ago, she refused to chance movement yet again. The memory of her last attempt still too vivid.
She felt the cold, damp grit of dirt beneath her cheek. Smelled the pungent aromas of the forest’s carpet of grasses and soil.
She lay very still. The wind moved the treetops which towered above her. The sound having increased in tempo since the last she noticed. How long had she lay there?
Odd, usually she could instantly sense some kind of time frame, instantly know such data.
Her mind was now confused, chaotic...undisciplined. She did not even attempt to put it in order. She merely accepted what was.
A storm approached. She could hear the thunder in the not-to-far distance. It had turned decidedly colder.
With great effort of will, she struggled to a sitting position. She could not stay here. She had glanced about the heavily foliaged area. She must seek shelter.
But, even the simple act of sitting drained her of any reserves of strength and it took several more minutes before she felt strong enough to move again.
Time was a variant. It did not seem to matter as it once had. The fact puzzled her. She felt light-headed, her vision swimming dangerously in and out of focus.
She did not wish to die on this planet, of that she was certain.
But, in a larger sense...did anyone ever wish to die...no matter the time or place? Was this what dying felt like?
Unproductive...unproductive line of thought.
If... she could just get to the next... her mind refused to aid her. What was that called over there?
That...little clearing with the patch of tall grass... grassy...grassy knoll.
Her mind flashed images. A vivid pink dress...a lovely woman...an Earther.
Someone was shot...killed. Now, who had it been? This was important, surely. But, she could not connect any of the data her brain was sending.
Oh well...perhaps another time.
Orbit: Prius IV/ Transport Station Number Six
“I will go alone.”
“Impossible, Commande–”
M’Kal stepped onto the landing platform, his expression set, for he had expected his guards’ objections, prepared for them. He turned, the heavy cape swirling about the powerful calf muscles with a flowing, graceful movement.
“It is our duty to protect you, Lord!” T’are almost pouted the fact.
“I am aware of your duty, and it will be duly noted in the ship’s log that you obeyed my orders.” M’Kal lifted an expressive brow. “Yes?” He did not wait for confirmation. “I go...alone!”
The Giaian nodded curtly to his transporter engineer, instantly feeling the reassuring out-of-body tingle envelope him as the entire room faded into oblivion.
Pyrus IV
“...Four.” Galea whispered her awe, her vision clear enough to see the imposing bulks outlined against the frequent stabs of lightning illuminating the night sky at different intervals. “By the Creator... Four of them!”
All hope faded with the realization that what she saw was reality.
She stood perfectly still, having no other recourse to take.
The female favored her left side, leaning, her injured arm cradled protectively. Her eyes moved listlessly from one imposing figure to another. It did not seem appropriate to try a useless gesture of defiance or supposed dignity.
They could see she was injured. They knew she could not flee. They knew it was ended but what was worse is that they knew...she...knew, as well.
The moment progressed, suspended in time. Galea kept silent, her mind strangely void of any real emotion.
She could smell their stench even from this distance. Did these creatures never bathe? It seemed a rather moot point, of course.
Her eyes took in their garb...the clothes almost as filthy as her own, keeping in mind, she had deliberately covered herself and at quite frequent intervals, with all the mud and grime she could lay her hands upon.
The powerfully chiseled features were twisted in animal-like anticipation of what was to come. The yellowed stained teeth apparent in each foul-breathed mouth clearly visible in the crackling light of each shaft of energy sent from the heavens.
Galea’s stomach convulsed. She reached instinctively to her belt for the only weapon she had been able to fashion.
She brought the sharply pointed stick upward into view, hearing the low chuckles of amusement issue forth from her protagonists for such puny efforts on her part.
The woman could see their point, for all that, silently agreeing with the general consensus.
The laughter ceased when she placed the needle-point tip gently against the soft, yielding skin of the slight indentation where her throat began.
Fury replaced amusement, the dark, menacing eyes stabbed her with the promise of regret should she be so unwise as to attempt take their rightful victory from their very hands.
Galea found herself unmoved by the threat of such unleased violence. She had seen it all before. The fact it was now directed toward her, left her profoundly indifferent.
Even her fear was absent. She, in truth, was aware of only one encompassing emotion. A great welcomed sense of release. Finally...it would all be over and done.
“Must you be so dramatic, Centurion?”
Galea’s mind shut down completely. She turned ever so slowly to the sound of the mockingly stated accusation.
She moved slowly...because of the pain. She had turned... Because of the unexpected. Her mind ceased functioning for the simple fact that what her eyes told her she witnessed...logically, could not be.
Trilian would be proud of her...
The woman chalked it up to exhaustion...pain and fever. She would explain it away later, if she was to have a ‘later’ in her life.
She could not pull her eyes away from...The Vision. For ‘It’ was astounding to behold.
The tall, eloquent figure was set amidst the dark blue backdrop of the furious sky. The magnificent cape billowed in the angry winds. The hooded face, features non-existent, was hidden within the black void of eerie shadow. A reserved power...a tangible ‘force’, emanated from its very form.
Was this ‘Death’?
If so, ‘Death’ had a most singularly familiar voice.
But...why not? Was not her former Commander the very embodiment of all she dreaded? All she feared?
Who better to portray ‘Death’ to her?
Logical, really.
But, what was not logical. What refused register as tangible fact, was...why ‘Death’ itself, would need a disruptor to perform the function of what it was in existence to perform.
Could not the Entity do its task with a single ‘touch’?
But, a disruptor was exactly the thing leisurely pulled from within the confides of the black folds of the cape.
A disruptor’s blinding ray of light was what Galea saw erupt from the lethal hollow tunnel of the weapon’s deadly barrel.
Not once, but four separate bursts of sheer brilliance dazzled her weary eyes.
Galea shut them for the brightness hurt somewhat but she could still hear the static electricity of the lingering essence of the weapon’s power after each frightening hiss.
And then...the silence resumed.
The eerie...unnatural...quiet.
Galea reluctantly opened her eyes. She numbly surveyed the area. What greeted her eyes was the remains of what once had been...the four rather imposing adversaries.
The bodies were crumpled, totally disfigured, for a disruptor’s ray scorches it’s victims beyond recognition. The heat fusing the flesh and bone together into smoldering clumps.
She had only seen the actual effects twice in her life. Both times she had returned to her quarters only to find herself violently sick to her stomach.
The female waited for the feelings to come even now but they did not.
She looked back at the slight sound behind her, starting visibly to find the black-caped apparition standing so very close to her.
The large blue gaze remained fixed upon the shadowy features. She could not look away, even though she desperately felt the need.
The ghostly figure lifted a menacing hand, holding it out toward her.
Her eyes widened in alarm as the cold shiver ran the length of her spine. Galea shrank away from any supposed contact with the gloved appendage or it’s unearthly owner.
Slowly...the hand was lowered.
She could feel the heavy weight of ‘Its’ gaze even though she could discern no eyes in the darkness of the hooded face.
The woman’s gaze followed the magnificent physique absently, her thoughts stagnant.
So much had happened in so short an interval. Before, she had at least known her fate, unpleasant as it had been. This...unknown factor was somehow more threatening.
What did it want? What was expected of her? Should she speak? And, if so...what was she to say? Was she to be the next victim?
Galea glanced fearfully to where she knew the disruptor to be.
Never mind then, she told herself. Could it be any worse than what the creatures would have done?
She resolutely pushed aside the images of the charred bodies behind her. They were no longer a factor.
Die as L’Ar had died. Die with dignity.
Yes...a noble death was always preferable. Besides...she was certain the rays would kill her instantly. She would not suffer. She did not think so at least. Why had she never researched the question.
Damn! DAMN! She should have researched such a vital issue, surely.
“Do you not wish to come home?”
‘Death’ was addressing her yet again. His voice was rather soothing, actually.
Home? Was ‘hell’ to be her permanent ‘home’?
Surely It had meant...His ‘home’. For all eternity?
Had she been so horrible a being to deserve such a fate? She had sinned, of course, with the Commander, but surely that was mostly his fault.
She did not believe in hell. Trilian did not believe in Hell.
She scowled darkly up at the ominous creature.
M’Kal removed the hood leisurely. “You are in dire need..” He raked the small figure absently. “...of a bath.”
Galea’s eyes fell downward as she looked about the grime of her clothing, her fingers feeling the mud-caked strands of her long, matted hair.
She lifted a hollow, uncomprehending stare.
M’Kal stepped closer and she stumbled, getting out of his path. His eyes swept her smudged features with a cryptic lift of his brows. “I cannot believe I still find you acceptable.” He shook his head woefully, flipping his communication device open in the next second. “What the hell...can I possibly be thinking!” He mumbled dejectedly.
He then straightened his form to its full height. Galea stared up to his profile. He turned his head, feeling her eyes.
“Do not allow it to go to your head...but...” The dark eyes swept her form meticulously with undue familiarity. “If you wish to go to mine...feel free.” He motioned with his hand according, to illustrate his meaning.
She looked at him as if he were insane, having caught the reference.
The Commander turned his head back, a slow grin pulling at his sensual mouth. “Transport...two to beam up.”