Salera's Storm

  ***

  Kalin laid her down and gently touched her hair.

  “You’ll be okay,” he said softly. “We’re on my ship, the Quasar. Just lie still and let the doctor take care of you.”

  She could barely open her eyes. Shiro and Marante were standing beside her bed facing Kalin, who was on the other side. She didn’t see a doctor but there was an amber light, similar to a scan, running along her body. The pain in her stomach was lessening. The hole was closing up.

  “Are the Deltrons active?” asked Kalin, stripping off his shredded white shirt.

  “Yes,” said Marante, who grasped her hand. I heard you, my lady, he said in her mind, and was able to lock onto your position.

  She squeezed his hand.

  “The core of the planet is stabilizing,” continued Marante. “What about Vorkis?”

  “He’s alive,” said Kalin, putting on a clean shirt.

  “You did not kill him?” Marante handed him a black sheath for the knife.

  “No.” Kalin glanced at Rina. “It was either him or Rina and I couldn’t let her die. Did you deactivate his hyperdrive?”

  “Temporarily, yes.”

  Kalin slipped Vorkis’ knife into the black sheath. “I need to go back.”

  “At the moment, the teleporter is inoperative.”

  “I have to get Vorkis now before he tries to run.”

  “I understand,” said Marante. “But I must inform you of our situation. A saboteur damaged the REM and teleporter, which are now under repair. Over two hundred Zorcons teleported aboard but we managed to create Montroth Fields to encapsulate them. They are all in custody.”

  “Who was the saboteur?” asked Kalin.

  Marante frowned. “It was Ilya, Kalin. Ilya was the traitor.”

  Kalin froze, staring at him in disbelief. “What?”

  Marante nudged his head. Ilya was standing behind him with two Chaslean security guards on either side of her.

  “Ilya?” said Kalin.

  “You were nothing but a toy, and not a very pleasant one,” she said defiantly. “Vorkis loves me. He’ll save me. He won’t leave me with scum like you.”

  “I thought we had something special,” said Kalin. “I can’t believe you’d do this,” shaking his head in disappointment. “Why?”

  “You’re useless,” she said. “I need a man with power and brains. You think way too much of yourself, Kalin, and on a scale of one to ten, you’re a low one.”

  “You mean she can count?” asked Rina, hoping the snide comment would prick her.

  “My lady,” said Marante, helping Rina to sit up on the edge of the bed.

  Kalin turned to her and smiled, holding her face with his warm hands.

  “I would be dead if you hadn’t thrown me the crystals. Thank you.”

  “You gave up killing Vorkis to save me,” she said. “I know how much that meant to you. Thank you, Kalin.”

  She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tight. He kissed her cheek then gently pushed her away and reached in his pants pocket.

  “This belongs to you,” he said.

  He pulled out the necklace and slipped it over her head.

  “I thought I’d lost this forever,” she said, gazing at the black pendant in her hand. “Thank you so much.”

  “This is so sickening,” said Ilya.

  Rina peeked over Kalin’s shoulder. “Who’s the bimbo?”

  “This is Ilya,” said Kalin, clearing his throat with a smile. “Ilya, Rina. Ilya’s going to be handed over to the Federation for crimes against Salera and Earth. I doubt if she’ll live another year. The death sentence will be quick and painless.”

  “I hate you so much,” said Ilya, approaching him. “I can’t believe I actually slept with you.”

  “Yeah,” said Kalin, “and I’ve had a lot better.”

  Ilya kicked Kalin in the groin and he buckled forward with a grunting sound. The guards immediately restrained her.

  “I’d rather die than be with you another day!” shouted Ilya.

  Rina jumped off the bed and took a stand between Ilya and Kalin.

  “Let her go,” she said.

  Marante was pouring Sarvins on Kalin, who was on his knees, moaning. Kalin waved to the guards and they released Ilya.

  The Tàtress stood eight inches taller than Rina with the slender figure of a top model. Her short golden hair neatly circled her doll-like face, but her beauty ended there. She had the heart of a T-Rex.

  “So this is what you’ve lowered yourself to?” said Ilya. “A short, unsophisticated, dumb-looking blackhead?” She leaned down to Rina in a curtsy, placing her hands on her knees and talking with puffy lips as if to a child. “What’s the little worm going to do? Hit me?”

  “You got that right, slut,” said Rina.

  She laid a left hook on Ilya’s nose, sending her sliding across the floor and bashing into the wall.

  “Save your freaking me-attitude for someone who cares. I can whip you anytime, anyplace, whore.”

  “Captain,” said Tolba over Kalin’s Comlink.

  “Yes, what is it?” said Kalin, who was on his feet and grinning wide.

  “Do something, Kalin,” pleaded Ilya, disheveled and crying. She swiped at her upper lip. “She broke my nose! I’m bleeding!”

  Tolba’s voice was barely audible over Ilya’s sobs. The area surrounding her eyes began to show signs of bruising. Streams of blood flowed from her crooked nose.

  “Take Ilya to the brig,” said Kalin, chuckling. “Monitor her but don’t heal her just yet. Keep her that way for twelve hours. She’s to have no contact with anyone. Teleport her meals.”

  Ilya wailed in agony. The guards dragged her out of the room.

  Kalin tapped his Comlink, still smiling. “Repeat, Tolba.”

  “Vorkis has teleported to the planet’s surface. He has a hostage and is threatening to kill the Earth-human scientist if his demands are not met.”

  Rina gripped Kalin’s arm as if her heart had stopped pumping. “Who does he have?” she asked.

  “He is in a place called Colorado,” said Tolba. “The hostage is an Earth-human named Justin Young.”