Kel
Date July 13, 2116 Time 12:18 a.m. Location The Coeus
She understood the instinct. Truly.
But it would only delay the inevitable.
Far down the corridor, Vond stumbled around a corner. She could have put at least six bullets in his back before he reached it, but then she would need to locate another appropriate doctor, and repeat her extraction efforts. A waste of time.
And impractically dangerous. Her enemies would undoubtedly be on high alert after the capture of one of their own. Best to keep the one she already had alive and useful, if she could.
Besides, it wasn’t like he had anywhere to go.
Kel counted to thirty––just to humor him––then began her pursuit.
Vond was fast, for a normal Human. But not nearly fast enough. And the furthest thing from stealthy a person could be. Kel could have tracked his thundering footfalls from a mile away.
He did have a decent memory though.
She spotted him five turns back along the path to the docking bay, moving at a pace which he likely considered a sprint. He looked back over his shoulder, wide eyes growing ever wider, then turned forward again and picked up a miniscule amount of speed.
Kel smirked, and paced herself to avoid overtaking him. There was something oddly thrilling about the pursuit. Something primal. Indulgent as it was, she found she was not quite ready to stop.
Unfortunately, Vond quickly made that decision for her.
One wrong turn led the doctor to a hallway ending in a closed door. Vond ran straight at it, clearly believing it was motion-activated.
It was not.
At least the man had had the forethought to put his hands out in front of him. That likely saved him a few bruises. For the moment.
With her captive cornered, Kel slowed to a halt a few meters away; watched as her enemy shifted his attention to the small control panel beside the door, and repeatedly and futilely pressed the “open” button.
The soldier rolled her eyes. “It’s sealed, you imbecile.”
And for good reason. That part of the ship did not yet have life support.
Vond spun to face her, chest heaving from the exertion of their chase.
She could smell the desperate sweat coming off him. Understandable, if pitiful. But eventually, she would need him to calm down, and cooperate. There was work to be done.
“Do not make this worse, doctor,” Kel decided to try kindness. “Come back to the infirmary quietly, and we can forget this hap...”
The man put up his fists in a comically bad imitation of a fighting stance.
Did they not require combat training in the First Responders’ Corps? Was the man truly this ill prepared to defend himself?
Although, even if he had been trained, there was no chance Vond actually believed he could win. He knew far too much about her abilities for that. Once again, this was just bravado.
Which, in this case, was an ailment with a simple cure.
Kel shrugged.
Kindness was a weakness, anyway.
The soldier closed the distance between them.
Vond’s right fist flew towards her head.
She blocked it with ease, and threw a punch of her own.
A light one.
At least, she didn’t feel anything crunch when her fist connected with the left side of his face, so it probably wasn’t fatal.
Regardless, the man crumpled.
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In seconds, Kel forced the dazed doctor onto his back, swung a leg over his chest in order to prevent him from rising, wrapped a hand around his throat, and squeezed.
Once again, with restraint: his carotid arteries were completely unblocked, and she was careful to avoid actually crushing his windpipe.
But not enough to prevent him from believing that was her goal.
And if his reaction was anything to go by, believe he did.
Vond’s hands scrambled to his throat; he used what was pathetically likely all of his strength in an attempt to pry her fingers away.
When that failed, which of course it did, the man finally threw a punch that landed.
Kel hadn’t felt a blow that feeble since she was ten.
Yet given the contortion of Vond’s face, he had likely fractured at least one knuckle in the attempt. The hand dropped to the floor, twitching.
Too stubborn for his own good, Vond pushed weakly at her shoulder with his left hand; then the fool finally remembered the gun on her hip.
She caught his wrist as he reached for the holster, but resisted the urge to crush bone.
Best to keep one hand in good working order. He’d need it to fix the other.
She pinned the appendage to Vond’s chest instead. Quickly running out of options, the doctor’s legs flailed behind her, but Vond clearly did not have the flexibility necessary to make contact. At this point, he likely knew that it wouldn’t matter anyway.
Terror filled the man’s brown eyes. The terror of a mouse who suddenly found itself as the next meal for a boa constrictor.
No way out. No way to fight. Nothing but a slow, steady squeeze.
He mouthed the word “please” many times.
She did not relent.
She refused.
In this moment, let him marinate in helplessness.
Let his arrogance dissolve with every desperate breath.
Let him learn to truly fear her.
It would save them both time.
Tears trickled down the sides of Vond’s face; a few moments more, and his struggles grew even weaker.
When his eyes began to flutter, Kel eased her grip.
Just enough to let him gasp for air.
Not enough to do it comfortably.
Kel wasn’t certain how long she held him there, but when at last she deemed her point made, Vond’s entire body trembled beneath her.
Finally, she slipped her hand from his throat; up to his cheek. He winced as her fingers pressed the swelling bruise from her first blow, but the man was smart enough to suppress any more foolish reactions.
“You will not try that again.” A fact, not a question.
Vond shook his head in confirmation.
Kel smirked. “A quick learner. Good.”
She tousled his hair, then hooked a hand under his left armpit, and dragged him to his feet.
The man staggered, but didn’t fight her. For all that mattered.
Shortly, they arrived back at the infirmary. This time, she did not release his arm at the door, but instead led him directly to the center bed, and forced him to sit.
Vond cradled his injured right hand in his left, and kept his head bowed.
Deciding her captive did not appear ready to bolt again, Kel released him; took a step back. “Feet up on the bed. Take off your shoes.”
Vond complied. It was clearly a struggle to adjust his position and undo the laces with one unbroken hand, but his shoes thudded to the floor quickly enough to make a rebuke unnecessary.
His socks bore a pattern of strange blue creatures Kel had never seen before.
It would have been endearing, on anyone other than him.
Satisfied, Kel collected the open shackle from the floor. Technically, it was a redundant safety restraint, meant to wrap around vessels like her skipper to prevent them from sliding across the docking bay in the event that a docking field failed during turbulence. However, its size and shape were perfect for this task, and as the Coeus could not yet fly, this seemed like a far better use of the equipment.
Necessity bred innovation.
An old story.
“Pick an ankle,” Kel ordered.
Vond didn’t comply; his scared eyes flicked back towards the exit.
She glared.
“Be smart, doctor.”
The man gulped; winced. “You don’t have to use that. Please, just lock me in.”
“So you can stand by the door and attempt to knock me out with an infuser pen the next time I come here?”
“No,” Vond said a little too quickly for Kel’s liking. “I just––”
“I know exactly what’s going through your mind.” And she was not stupid enough to fall victim to pity. “So let me be clear: force my hand again, and next time I won’t pull the punch.”
Vond’s good eye went wide at the implication.
He took a deep breath, and inched his left ankle forward.
Kel smirked.
He truly did learn quickly.
And had at least some sense of self-preservation.
Useful traits, for someone in his position.
Vond did nothing to fight her as she clamped the shackle into place. She retrieved a small tablet from her pocket, and typed in a code. The seams of the restraint melded into a smooth ring of metal.
Attached to the pedestal base of the center operating table, the chain was long enough to allow her captive to reach any point in the infirmary, as well as about twenty feet into the hallway, and the entirety of the room embedded in the rear wall. This dealt with some practical concerns which Kel found distasteful, yet necessary to address.
“The bathroom is fully operational,” she tilted her head towards the rear door. “And the water is pure. There are two clean cups, and basic toiletries, in the box next to the sink. Do not neglect your hygiene. You won’t like my reaction.”
Vond stiffly nodded. His eyes roamed from the chain around his ankle to the swelling hand cradled against his chest; to the shelves of equipment enveloped in protective mesh.
Kel understood the question he was clearly afraid to ask. “Yes, you may use whatever supplies you need. I want that hand operational as soon as possible.”
A flicker of relief; another nod.
Kel frowned. “You might want to show some gratitude. I could change my mind.”
A clenched jaw; a long sigh.
“Thank you.”
...Better.
She rested a hand on his shoulder, and felt a small flare of satisfaction as he flinched.
“Settle in, doctor. We have much to do.”