Starlaw (7 page)

“Given what Goll did to her and her fellow enforcers, I don't foresee a problem with her presence. I've come to the conclusion my superiors will understand. She's just one of the butcher's victims.” He waved a hand in a nonchalant gesture. “Besides … as I've already stated, the woman's practically primal. She's incapable of causing much trouble. I'm sure Luster officials will see the situation in the same light.”

• • •

“Laurel, stop it! I know you thought it was all a nightmare, but it wasn't. We've been through this dozens of times. Since you awoke and were removed from the incu-unit, I've tried explaining what happened on Earth. I've outlined every detail I can recall, from the time we found you right up to this point. I've told you about the creature that attacked you, but now your anger isn't helping. Besides, if the commander hears about your behavior, he'll place you in confinement.” Gemma ducked as Laurel threw another of many medical containers at her.

“Put down that revolver looking thing in your hand and I'll consider it!”

“It's nothing more than a tranquilizer injector. The medication will help you rest.”

“Try using that on me and I'll paint the walls with you … I swear to God!” Laurel angrily threatened.

“Laurel … please … I mean you no harm. I know you don't understand, but I can't explain any better. Especially not when you're behaving so irrationally.”

“Irrational? I'll give you irrational!” Laurel yelled as she lunged at Gemma.

Unfortunately, blue girl moved too quickly to be caught. She'd put some kind of operating table between them and meant to stay behind it.

Not to be outmaneuvered, Laurel continued to stalk her, intent on getting answers for this farcical situation. “I'm what you called a … what was the word again? Oh yeah … a
primitive
. How else would I behave, except irrationally?”

“Laurel,
please
… ” Gemma began, only to find Laurel advancing on her again.

“What did you people … if you can be
called
people … plan to do with me? Experiment? Take your probes and dig through my ovaries for a little genetic material to play with? Or does the shit get weirder?” Laurel growled.

“Of course not! We don't experiment on other beings.”

“Well, there are a lot of folks on my planet who tell a different story,” Laurel objected, then continued her tirade. “I used to think all those UFO types were batshit crazy, but not anymore.” She made her repeated demand that had heretofore been ignored. “Now … you take me back to where I came from or I swear I'll make you wish you'd never heard of Earth!”

At that moment the hatch to the med bay opened and bear man walked in. He was accompanied by the big tan guy she remembered from her time in the coffin-looking device.

“Thank the Creator,” Gemma gasped. “I didn't know how much longer I could hold her off. She's got the worst temper I've ever seen in one creature.”

“
Human!
I am
not
a creature!” Laurel exploded. “I'm human.”

Bear man began to chuckle.

“You find something amusing?” Laurel angrily asked. “Because things don't look so funny from where I'm standing.”

“Forgive me,” bear man calmly told her, “it's just that … for a woman who sustained a very serious injury you seem to be doing remarkably well.”

Laurel grabbed at the blanket which currently served as her only clothing. She kept it wrapped around her body with one hand while wielding what looked like a glass specimen jar in the other. Her hair had come loose from the uniform code bun she'd worn the last time she was on duty. It currently lay around her shoulders, causing her to shake it back as it got in her face.

• • •

Darius took a long look at the med bay. He'd never seen it so horribly awry. It looked as though the entire space had been hit by a truncheon blast. Glass was shattered everywhere. Bedding from normal, pristine examining platforms was stripped. That bedding was strewn from every conceivable hanging point. Equipment that should have been contained within sterile shelving units lay on the floor like so many scattered bits of metallic refuse. Carts were overturned; medication containers lay in colorful abandon across countertops. A keypad used to open the main viewer in the port bulkhead had actually been pulled from its containment unit. It lay smoking and flashing on the med bay deck.

“What in the name of … Gemma, what happened?”

Gemma swallowed hard. “We … we had a little difference of opinion. Laurel is under the impression that we mean to harm her. I've tried to tell her otherwise, but she's a bit confused. When I attempted to sedate her she became … upset.”

“
Upset
?” Darius growled as he pulled his shoulders back and imperiously clasped his hands together at the base of his spine. “The med bay looks like a Lamarian she-cat barreled through here! Did
she
do this?” He motioned toward Laurel with nothing more than a jerk of his head.

“She's a bit confused,” Gemma repeated.

Laurel squared her shoulders and planted her feet apart. “Yeah … I did it!” she admitted, as she lifted her chin in defiance. “Who's askin'?”

Darius looked at the Earther and narrowed his eyes in anger. The woman's posture indicated she was daring him to do something about her behavior. As commander of this ship, he was about to take up that challenge.

“Barst, Gemma …
out
!”

“Commander,” Gemma began, “you have to understand. Laurel has been through a great deal. We have to be patient and—”

“Barst, take Gemma to the bridge,” Darius ordered as his gaze lingered on Laurel.

“Come on, Gem,” Barst said as he used the shortened version of her name. “This isn't going to be pretty.”

Barst took the med-tech from the space as Gemma protested in Laurel's defense.

Darius saw their patient looking him over, the way a predator sized up its prey. He almost felt sorry for her. To her, his height must appear massive. She was head and shoulders beneath him, even though she stood quite tall.

She'd obviously seen men and women in uniform. But the black League tunic, pants, and boots he always donned were more officious than the clothing he'd seen on the dead enforcers. And as he recalled, their hair had been shorn quite close to their heads. None sported a long black pelt tied back as was the custom of his world. No, he was sure she'd never seen any other enforcer quite like him.

He took a moment to gaze into her eyes, attempting to judge her reaction. For a split second he thought he saw real fear in her blue, enraged stare. But as he acknowledged that fright with the slightest nod, she rallied and lifted her chin higher. He got the impression she didn't like being studied and presumed weak.

She gripped the glass jar in her left hand with firm resolve. Whatever momentary lapse in courage she'd had, she quickly willed it away and faced him like some demon goddess about to strike.

Anger over her ungracious and childish behavior warred with something in his gut, some instinct to protect. That last emotion was outrageously absurd, especially given her apparent willingness to cause trouble. But it was there all the same.

• • •

Laurel forced herself to quit shaking. He sensed it. And when someone knew you were scared they used it. But how could one man possibly be so big? How could a man look so much like the mythical Ares, god of war? Why did she fear someone who looked human enough when bear man and blue girl hadn't frightened her at all?

Towering at least seven feet, the man staring her down had shoulders as broad as the front end of a small sports car and a chest about as thick as most walls. At least that was the way he looked from her current, unclothed position with nothing but a jar to wield in defense.

Though his black tunic, tall black boots, and tight pants were uniform perfect, the darkness of it appeared to match his mood. Hair about pectoral length, currently tied back and left to flow over one shoulder, was in absolute contrast to any uniform code she'd ever heard of.

Like everything else over the past few hours, reality was proving worse than any nightmare. Tan guy was glaring at her with all the love a big panther showed a small rabbit. At almost five feet, nine inches, with all kinds of martial arts titles and trophies, and seven years of police experience, she'd thought herself fully capable of fighting pretty much anything when it came to hand-to-hand battles. Big, tall, and square-jawed, handsome god man stood in front of her reminding her to check that conceit. Dark green eyes drilled holes into and through her. If she'd been anywhere else in the known universe, it wouldn't be far enough away.

She mustered what courage she had left. No one was going to find her wanting in the nerve department. That much she could do for all the other Earthlings who'd been abducted, probed, and disbelieved over the past decades. Poor, poor souls. If the rest of Earth knew what she did, those people wouldn't be made fun of any longer.

Laurel took a deep breath and spoke her piece.

“I'm guessing
you're
the infamous commander I've been hearing so much about? Or did I just dream they'd called you that when I was lying in that coffin?”

Laurel forced herself to glare at him when every instinct told her to run. Once again, she was startled that this mountainous being
looked
human but he could easily be some kind of head-popping insect for all she knew. Maybe these creatures could shapeshift and this one was just holding back until such time as he figured out what to do with her or how to serve her for dinner.

As she'd spoken, his hands came from behind his back and now opened and closed menacingly. As another show of strength, he placed them on hips that appeared to be forged from iron. Like bear man, this human-looking entity wore a weapon that hung from his right side in a low-slung leather-like holster. The angle of it reminded her of old Saturday morning westerns she'd watched on TV as a child. Fortunately, the thing was still holstered. He hadn't aimed it.
Yet
.

She moved away from the wall, hoping he would follow. If she could lure him away from the hatch, there might still be a way to get out of this space. Sad for her, that meant getting around his gravity-defying ass.

Some part of her brain didn't want to believe where she was or what happened. The illusion they were in deep space might just be that.

“So, the little Earther has claws and the inability to thank the people who saved her life.” Darius spoke quietly, though ominously.

“
Saved
me? You've
kidnapped
me and I've been told the others who were with me are dead. You want me to thank you for that?”

“We weren't responsible for anyone's death. The man who killed your comrades has been placed in custody. He'll stand trial for what he's done.”

As she sidestepped closer and closer to the hatch, hoping he'd think she was just moving out of nervous anxiety, she saw his eyes narrow. He moved to block her. His body was so large there was no way she'd get by him, even if she did drop the only blanket covering her body and ran like hell.

“Let me go,” she demanded. “I don't belong here.”

“You're right … you don't. But we'll all have to make concessions. The man we tracked to Earth … the same man responsible for killing your friends … has a date to be tried on a planet some distance from our present location. I'm under orders to see this done, and Earth is in the opposite direction. I will ask about returning you to your world when my current assignment is over.”

“Yeah? And how do I know you're not lying? Who are
you
that you can make any promises? I want to speak to the highest authority!” She swung her head again to move her hair back over her shoulders.

“I am the highest authority on this ship!” he said as he pointed toward the deck.

• • •

He tried to ignore the soft waves of shimmering brown hair that she'd just tossed back. The thick, soft, and luxuriant textures of those tresses made him want to reach out and stroke them. He shook his head to put his mind on matters at hand and off how tempting her slender body was, all wrapped in that blanket with bare, creamy shoulders exposed and fire flashing from her blue eyes. He'd been in space too long.

Taking time so her anger might abate, he slowly explained who he was. “My name is Darius Starlaw. My surname is in deference to what I do; it's a moniker adopted by one of my ancestors when my family accepted law enforcement as their profession. You'll probably discover from my crew that my real surname is Regalis. This name isn't used outside a few circles on my home world.”

He continued speaking slowly and on matters of little consequence to help her calm down. Still, his opinion concerning her behavior must be known. In space, there was no room for tantrum-throwing harridans. If she was an enforcer, she should be used to following orders. Now, whether she liked it or not, she'd follow his. She had no choice.

“I'm the captain of this vessel and by protocol and desire, I require the title of
commander
be employed. As for your not knowing whether I'm lying or not, you don't. You simply have no other choice but to trust us.”

Darius paused and looked around the space. It was difficult to control his temper but he did the best he could.

“While I can understand your distress, I must make my feelings concerning your behavior quite clear,” he stoically informed her. “If there are any more outbursts like this, I'll confine you to a compartment no larger than the incubation unit by the wall. It's that same
coffin-
like, healing device you referred to previously. If you cannot control yourself, I'll reconsider my promise to ask for your return home. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”