Kel

Date July 19, 2116 Time 4:03 a.m. Location The Coeus

An alarm.

Quiet, but urgent.

And more than enough to tear Kel from sleep with an agonizing abruptness.

A gun was in the soldier’s hand before she was even fully awake. She reached for the tablet next to her pillow, and silenced the alarm as she kicked her way out from the covers.

Cameras. She needed to install cameras.

The only cameras she had been able to liberate were imbedded inside tablets. Decent quality footage, but tedious to convert into a practical security network. To avoid constant maintenance, they would need to be wired into the ship’s limited power.

Power which she was not certain she could spare at the moment.

But walking out blind was also far, far less than ideal.

Unwilling to expose her position without as much intelligence as she could gather first, Kel made her way quietly through her dark quarters, and pressed her ear to the door.

Something, or more likely someone, was moving outside her room at great speed.

The sound ebbed and swelled, accompanied by a metallic rattle which took Kel a moment to place.

When she did, she could not decide whether to laugh in relief, or shoot him for the annoyance.

Perhaps both would be appropriate.

The soldier waited for Vond’s footfalls to approach once more, then opened the door, and pointed her gun straight at the silhouette of a head.

The doctor gave a startled scream, dropped to a crouched ball on the floor, and covered his head with his arms.

“It’s me!” Vond called from his pathetic position. “Just me! I’m sorry, I––“

“It is four in the morning,” Kel growled as her eyes adjusted to the bright light coming from the infirmary opposite her quarters.

“I’m sorry,” Vond peeked up at her through his arms. “I didn’t know you were...um...I didn’t realize you slept so close––”

“Logic and practicality,” she cut him off; lowered the gun. “There is a sensor above the infirmary door. Every time someone crosses that threshold, I receive an alert. Try to escape, and you will be dead before you reach the end of the corridor.”

“I wasn’t trying to escape,” Vond slowly rose; placatingly kept his hands in front of him. “I’m just having trouble sleeping with the light on. The Human body’s not made to go days without darkness. The corridor’s a bit darker than the infirmary, and I thought that, plus a little exercise, might help.”

“If you need exercise, acquire it inside the infirmary,” Kel made her ire clear. “With the door closed. Come into the hallway for anything other than an emergency again, and you won’t walk for a month. Understood?”

A pained look crossed the doctor’s face. “Can I at least open the door when I want?”

She furrowed her brow. “What would be the point?”

The man opened his mouth; paused; lowered his head with a sigh.

“No point, really. It’s just...well, like I said, less light. And, um, it’s kinda a change of scenery.”

“As would be an airlock.”

Annoyed eyes flicked back up to her own. “I’m not trying to cause problems. I’m just bored. What else am I supposed to do with my time, if you won’t give me so much as a book––”

“It is not your time.” She was not awake enough for this. “But if you insist on bemoaning the fact that I leave you in peace most of the day, I could always find you a companion. Would your spouse be good company?”

Vond froze. “My what?”

“Did you truly think I failed to notice the ring?” She gestured to the simple band around the traditional finger. “Currently, I am limited in my abilities to scour the First Responders Corps’ records for their identity, but if you continue to try my patience, I will put in the extra effort.”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Vond paled. “Please leave her alone. I-I’ll stop. You don’t have to––”

“Close the door, and go to sleep. Now.”

Clearly defeated, her captive obeyed.

Kel mirrored the motion with her own door. Vond was not wrong, the light emanating from the infirmary was far, far brighter than the emergency light used in the corridor, or even in her own quarters. It took a moment for her eyes to readjust to the faint red light.

When Kel last found herself working on the Coeus’ construction, prior to her capture, furnishing true crew quarters had been so far down the list of tasks to complete it had almost seemed laughable.

But with the materials liberated from the Coalition facility, Kel had been able to at least construct a simple, comfortable space for herself.

There were shelves for finished prototypes, and miscellaneous odds and ends she needed for her work, bolted into the wall to the right of the door; storage containers packed with food lined the other. She had even managed to cobble together a miniature cooking unit, which she placed in the corner to the left of the rations.

Kel had almost forgotten what coffee tasted like. Now she had at least eight cups a day. It was wonderful.

The right wall held a comfortable, if small, chair, pulled up in front of a large work desk. The rear right of the room held the door to a fully functioning bathroom. Unlike her prisoner’s facilities, she had taken the time to ensure her personal quarters had hot water at her disposal.

The rear left corner held her favorite extravagance: a bed comprised of multiple layers of supple foam.

She locked the door behind her, and quickly crossed the room again; crawled back under the plush covers.

After so long sleeping––if one could call it sleep––on operating tables and infirmary beds, taking the time to build a proper frame for the stolen mattress had been well worth the effort.

Unfortunately, sleep refused to return. Instead, the soldier’s mind replayed her conversation with her captive.

Had it been too early to threaten Vond’s apparent wife? Threats like that only retained their sting if evidence of their efficacy could be provided. Evidence which she, unfortunately, lacked.

Only one Lukas Vond in the First Responders Corps…but the public records of their employees only included names, positions, awards, and ship assignments. Everything else was buried under so many layers of firewalls and protections Kel dared not attempt to hack her way in. It was not worth jeopardizing her mission simply to track down her prisoner’s wife in more public databases..

But Vond did not know her priorities.

And if she could use that uncertainty to trick him into revealing more information, she might be able to safely narrow the search.

She had to wonder what kind of woman would marry a monster like Vond.

Was she oblivious? Was the man such a master manipulator that his wife truly believed she had found her soulmate in his frail frame?

Or did she know what he was? Did she know about his real work? That his respectable position on the Nightingale was simply a veneer for something far more sinister? Was she afraid of him, wherever she might be?

Or was she complicit as well?

...No.

Likely not.

To assume everyone in Vond’s life was as cruel as he would be to veer into blatant conspiracy theories. His wife was most likely innocent, and Kel would not harm her without evidence to the contrary.

A fact which, once again, Vond did not need to know. Let the man believe the worst of her. Let her have as much leverage as Humanly possible...

A shudder of revulsion passed through the soldier.

She truly hoped his wife was Human.

Disturbed further by that thought, Kel sat up, and collected her tablet. If she could not sleep, there were far more pressing tasks to contemplate than the proclivities of her captive.

Like decrypting more of the trove of data she had collected from the Dolos.

Or checking in on the second virus she had hidden deep within the code of the Nightingale’s systems.

It would not harm the vessel.

It simply allowed her to intercept their communications records, if not the message’s contents. She had, after all, only had a short window to work, and the more complex her virus’ mission, the more likely its detection.

Her enemies tracing the virus’ transmission back to her location was a too great a risk, were that to happen.

And the Coeus was still far too early in its construction to fight off a true attack.

Kel sighed, and rose to make her ninth cup of coffee.

So much work to do.

So many potential leads to explore.

So little time for rest.