Captain Shunaadh doubled over in a coughing fit while Blye checked his vitals. “Temperature is definitely elevated,” she nodded, before plucking a penlight from her coat and inspecting his eyes and ears. “Tissue inflammation as well,” she commented before gently grasping his jaw. “Open wide, please.”
The Bamidh trader did as she asked as the Knight examined his throat. As she finished, she took the stethoscope from around her neck and placed it against his chest. “Now, deep breaths,” she ordered, listening carefully to his lungs as he struggled to comply. Finally, she straightened back up and shook her head.
“I’ll need to run a culture and do some blood work, but based on my preliminary examination, I don’t believe there’s any doubt. You and the rest of the crew appear to be suffering from a rather nasty case of glandular fever.”
“Impossible!” he sputtered, setting off yet another round of coughs. “None of the ports we visited reported any such outbreak!”
“Considering the crisis we’re currently facing, I think it’s obvious that someone’s medical report fell through the cracks,” she stated, before pulling out her tablet and checking a file. “Since the incubation period for Bamidh glandular fever is twenty-one days, I’d start there.” Blye gave him a stern look. “Were you, by any chance, docked somewhere three weeks ago?”
The captain grimaced and looked away. “Just as I suspected,” she said briskly, stripping off her gloves. “Thankfully, glandular fever isn’t life-threatening, though I doubt any of you will be up for anything besides bed rest for the next few days.”
Shunaadh shivered as a sudden burst of the chills hit him. Blye covered him with a blanket and tucked him in before taking a seat beside his cot. “Is there anything you can do?” he asked her.
“There are medications I can prescribe that will lessen the severity, and speed healing,” she nodded. “Just let me check in with my team and look over their findings for your crew first, and verify their results. Once that’s done, we can start treatment, though the best thing you can do is get some rest, drink plenty of fluids, stay warm, and let your body’s immune system eliminate the infection.”
Nodding weakly, the captain rolled over and tried to get comfortable while Blye showed herself out. Rounding up the others, the trio found a quiet spot for a brief consultation.
“Are all of them infected?” she asked.
“Every last one of them,” Prash confirmed. “Looks like it worked.”
Amar flashed them both a grin. “I gotta say, that was fucking brilliant. Good thing that bug doesn’t jump species.”
Blye made a sour face. “I don’t like this, not one bit, but they didn’t leave us with a lot of options. Hopefully, this does the trick. If not…” She paused, then glanced back at Prash. “Are the doses ready?”
“They are, ma’am,” he nodded.
“All right then,” she nodded, “make sure they all get one. After that, they get the best care we can give them. With any luck, our efforts will dissuade them from trying anything… foolish.”
“And if they don’t?” Amar asked.
“That’s what our little insurance policy is for,” she sighed, “though I really don’t want to use it. There are a dozen different ways it could go bad.”
“Maybe, but like you said, what other choice did we have?” the former Valkyrie shrugged. “This way, nobody gets hurt… not permanently, I mean.”
“That doesn’t mean I have to like it,” she told them, only to have the two men give her a curious look. “Yes, I know it was my idea,” she said unhappily, “but it’s still a huge violation of our oath. If word got out that we’d intentionally infected patients, no one will ever trust our clan again.”
“Ma’am, we gave them a bad cold,” Prash pointed out. “They’ll be fine in a few days, but it was the only way they’d ever let us get near them with our hypos. If they take us to Taing’zem like they promised, we hit them with the antidote before we depart, with no one the wiser. If not, well… they’ve got no one to blame but themselves.”
“Something tells me they won’t see it that way,” Blye said dryly, “but you’re right; it was merely the least painful of several very unpleasant options. I just pray they see reason and not back us into a corner.”
“In the meantime, while they’re still down for the count, maybe we could sneak a peek at Navigation. Find out where we’re headed?” Amar suggested.
“I already checked. It’s locked down tight,” Blye reported. “The crew are the only ones who can access the array.”
“Figures,” the Quatrième groused. “Paranoid little bastards.”
There were nods all around at that until Prash spoke up once more. “I’d better get started on the hypos,” he told the others.
“Thank you,” Blye acknowledged. “In the meantime, Amar and I will start making rounds and provide them with the best care possible.” With a heavy sigh, she managed a brief smile.
“Let’s find out what they want for lunch.”
----------------------------------------
A week later, late into Taisen Jit’s night shift, an alarm within the Knight’s compartment began howling for attention.
It was Amar Svoboda’s turn on watch, and the moment the alarm sounded, he grabbed his helmet and slammed it down tight, locking it in place before seeing to the others. The trio had taken to wearing their spacesuits during off-hours, ever since Blye raised the possibility of hijacking. The other two were already moving, snagging their own helmets and sealing their suits while the medic silenced and checked the alarm.
“Airborne tranquilizing compound,” he reported. “Guess we know what that means.”
“They’re coming,” Blye said quietly. “So much for Plan A.”
Prash opened a storage locker and began passing out weapons. Both he and Blye buckled on sword belts and readied their quarterstaffs, while Amar pulled out a pistol he’d hidden in a pile of medical supplies, checking the magazine before training it on the hatch.
Blye reached out and took his arm. “We’re not here to kill them,” she warned. “Put that away.”
“Ma’am, whether anyone ends up dead tonight is entirely up to them,” he growled, pulling away from her. “But after my last fight, there’s no way in hell I’m letting them get the drop on us.” Bracing the weapon with his free hand, he waited in silence for the other shoe to drop.
The other two shared a look and then held their staves at the ready. The former Valkyrie was still coming to terms with his new clan, and some habits were proving harder to break than others. Given the situation, however, Blye had to admit his pistol might just come in handy.
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They waited as the minutes slowly ticked by until finally, the hatch slid open. Prash moved in a blur, his staff already in motion as he moved to protect the senior Knight from harm. The graphite pole he wielded slashed out at the unsuspecting crewman, knocking a weapon from his hand before snapping down in a brutal strike. The Bamidh cried out in pain as he shattered the alien’s wrist, as Amar stepped out behind him and swept the corridor for other targets.
“... Clear,” he announced after a moment, as he covered the far entrance.
Blye exited the compartment behind them, resting her staff on the deck as she regarded the smaller creature. The trader whimpered as he clutched his arm, holding it tight against his chest, while she bent down and picked up the sidearm Prash had knocked aside. She safed the weapon and tucked it away, before turning back to face their captive.
“Obviously, you expected to find us unconscious,” she told the alien. “What exactly were your orders if your plan had worked?”
“I… I….” the Bamidh stammered, his eyes wide with fear. “... I don’t know what you mean!” he wailed.
Prash hit him again, this time driving the tip of his staff into the alien’s gut. He dropped like a stone, gulping for air as he struggled to breathe. The Cinquième pressed the butt end of the pole lightly against the crewman’s throat, just enough to get his attention. “The lady asked you a question,” he hissed.
“I was just supposed to take your gear and lock the hatch!” he howled. “That’s all, I swear!”
“I see,” Blye said calmly. “And when we arrived at your homeworld?” she pressed. “What were your plans for us then?”
His eyes began darting about frantically, searching desperately for a way to escape. Prash added more pressure to his staff, as the Bamidh started making gurgling sounds. “Answer her,” he ordered.
“The… captain has a buyer,” the trader mewled, “he wouldn’t say who. We were going to…” He swallowed, unable to finish as he goggled at the three Terrans.
“Bet you anything that ‘buyer’ is Troika,” Amar offered, still covering the far hatch.
“No bet,” Prash agreed. “What do you want to do with him?” he asked Blye.
“For now, search him and then lock him in our compartment,” she told him. Prash reached down and hauled the alien to his feet, quickly patting him down before shoving him into the cubicle and sealing the hatch. He held up a communicator for the others.
“Had this on him,” he explained.
“Which means he’s expecting a call,” Amar grimaced. “The captain, almost certainly.”
“We’ll have to move fast then,” Blye decided. “Head for Engineering. Let’s see if we can end this before it escalates any further. Amar, you take the lead.”
“On it,” he confirmed, moving towards the far hatch with his weapon at the ready, pausing only to clear the next corridor before motioning the others forward. Taking a right, the trio headed aft, gliding through the passageways silent as wraiths. Arriving at the open hatch to Engineering, the former Valkyrie risked a quick peek inside. Glancing back at the others, he held up a single digit before pointing out where the crewman was located.
Blye nodded in confirmation, then held up three fingers of her own. She paused for a moment, waiting until the others were ready to make their move, then deliberately counted down by dropping each raised finger in turn. At ‘Zero’, they charged into the compartment, startling the ship’s engineer. The alien froze for a moment, then darted towards the intercom. Leaping into the fray to stop him, she whirled her staff like a dervish before slamming at full force into his jaw. The blow knocked the crewman off his feet, driving him headfirst into a nearby bulkhead. He twitched briefly, then stopped moving.
Prash bent down and checked for a pulse. “He’s still breathing,” he reported. “Pretty sure you broke his jaw though.”
“He rushed me,” Blye said glumly, before turning her attention to the display terminals nearby. “Any idea how to shut this down?”
“Don’t look at me,” Amar shrugged. “Anything more complicated than a machine gun and I’m out of my depth.”
“Right.” She sighed, weighing her options, before deciding on her next course of action. “Prash, see if you can rouse him. We need him up and talking.”
“Let’s hope you didn’t give him a subdural hematoma,” he said dubiously, reaching into the medkit at his waist and pulling out a small vial. He broke it open, waving it in front of the alien’s nostrils. At first there was no response, but after a few moments the crewman sneezed, his eyes fluttering open. “... what…?” he mumbled in confusion, before his hand went to his jaw in pain.
Svoboda pointed his pistol. “You. Stand up,” he ordered.
The engineer glared at them. “Terran scum,” he cursed.
“Yeah, well, this Terran scum is about two seconds away from blowing your head off. Do as you're told, and you might just live through this,” he upbraided him. “Now stand up.”
Angrily, he obeyed. “I apologize for the jaw,” Blye said contritely. “I’ll be happy to treat your injury once we resolve the current situation.” She pointed at the controls. “I need you to kill the engines and shut down the reactor.”
The merchant folded his arms, glaring at her. “And if I refuse?”
Amar jammed his sidearm into the alien’s ear. “Take a wild guess,” he sneered.
The Bamidh launched into a string of curses the voder was unable to translate. The humans waited until he finally ran out of steam. “I’m afraid we must insist,” Blye told him. “You have my word that no harm will come to you if you cooperate. Well, no further harm,” she amended.
His glare was unabated. “How do you know I will not blow up the ship?”
“I’m betting you’re not suicidal,” she answered. “All we want is for you to safely deliver us to Taing’zem. Once we arrive and unload our equipment, you and the rest of your crew can go wherever you want.”
The alien looked suspiciously at her. “You were the ones who broke the contract, not us,” she pointed out. “So please, for everyone’s sake, do as we ask.”
Something about her tone seemed to take the fight out of him. With a begrudging nod, he went to the board and entered a string of commands. Within minutes, the heavy thrum of the ship’s engine and power plant slowed, and then finally disappeared.
The reaction was immediate.
“Ezauq, why have we stopped?” the captain demanded over the intercom. The engineer moved to respond but was held back by Amar. Instead, Blye opened the circuit and answered for him.
“This is Chevalier Deuxième Blye Tagata, of the Knight’s Hospitaller,” she announced. “My team and I have taken your engineer prisoner, as well as the crewman you sent to capture us. Since you have chosen to betray us, the engines and reactor will remain offline until we decide otherwise.”
“What?” he sputtered. “How dare you! I demand you restore power and release my crew at once!”
“I’m afraid you are not in a position to demand anything, Captain,” she answered, with far more composure than she actually felt. “You took our contract, then decided to hijack our equipment and sell us into slavery. Had you simply honored our agreement, there would have been no complications. Since your actions have dictated otherwise, you have forced us to act in self-defense.”
“Ignorant Terran,” the Bamidh captain spat, “You will return my people unharmed and release my ship, or I will send my crew in to gun you down like vermin.” She could hear the anger and vitriol pouring from his mouth as he snarled at her. Unless she acted swiftly, he was likely to make good on his threats. She jerked her head at Prash and Amar, directing them towards the hatch. The pair dragged Ezauq with them, using his body as a shield in case of attack.
Time to show her hole cards, then. Until she’d crossed paths with a certain Tinker, she would have never considered the situation in poker terms.
“That would be a mistake, Captain,” she warned him. “Do you recall the inoculations we gave you, when you and your crew fell ill?”
“What about them?” he replied, now on edge. Well, she couldn’t blame him, and what she had to say would only make things worse.
“Captain, those inoculations contained a powerful neurotoxin,” she divulged, “one that lays dormant within the cerebral cortex. However, it does not stay dormant, and once it’s triggered, death comes both swiftly and painfully. If you kill us, your own deaths will not be far behind.”
“Lies,” he hissed. “You are attempting to deceive me.”
“How I wish that were true,” she said quietly. “I am a healer, Captain, not a murderer, but you gave us little choice. When we learned of your treachery, we had to act. And it is an unfortunate truth that those who learn how best to preserve life, also know how to take it.” She’d wrestled with that, fighting with her conscience, but in the end it was that, or watch her team be taken captive.
She waited for a moment, letting that sink in. “However, we also carry with us the antidote. Take us to Taing’zem, and once our equipment has been safely offloaded, we will ensure that you and your crew all receive it. By Holy Mother Terra, by the murdered Earth, by my sacred honor, I swear it will be so,” she vowed, invoking one of the more solemn oaths of the Knights.
Silence came from the intercom. Blye waited, hoping, praying the captain would heed her warning. Despite picking up a few tricks from Maggie during their time together, she still couldn’t bluff worth a damn. Everything she’d told him had been the absolute truth.
If he refused to believe her, things would end badly for everyone involved.
Finally, the captain broke his silence. “... Agreed,” he ground out through gnashed teeth. “But I warn you, Terran, you have made an enemy this day. When this is over… watch your back.” And with that, he cut the circuit.
“I always do,” she whispered.