Page 7 of Sheltered in the Storm

Some blurry time later, I woke to calmer seas, the unmistakable sensation of heavy rain, and voices around me speaking Ymarian. One loud male voice didn’t sound Ymarian, though. Whoever he was, he bellowed orders like he was in charge.

Agony made it difficult to think, but this time I stayed conscious instead of immediately passing out again. My foggy brain suggested these people had rescued me from my ship in what felt like a small boat. Maybe they were taking me to shore, to a hospital?

My eyelids felt welded shut and I couldn’t make any sound but a moan, but I managed to slide my hand across the deck toward the voice of the man who might be the leader. If they knew I was conscious, they might offer me water to drink, or something to dull my pain?—

A heavy boot came down on my hand, crushing it to the deck.

Even as half-numb, half-conscious, and maybe half-dead as I was, this new, piercing agony ripped a wail from me that didn’t sound human. I tried to pull my hand away, but the boot ground my fingers against the corrugated metal deck. I gagged in pain. Laughter erupted around me, barely audible over the ringing in my ears.

And then one of them screamed.

The scream turned into a gurgle, and then it cut off abruptly. A couple of wet, fleshythudson the boat’s deck made me flinch. Warm liquid splattered across my face.

Weapons fire, shouts, and more gurgley screams filled the air. The foot that had crushed my hand suddenly moved, freeing me. Boots pounded the deck and plasma bolts burned into the metal around me.

A sudden, startlingly clear thought cut through the fog:Damn it to all the hells, I didn’t survive a crash just to die thanks to a stray shot from a plasma gun.

Less than a minute after that first scream, the number of voices around me had dwindled rapidly, but the fighting continued. In the chaos, a heavy boot brushed past my head and someone stepped on my leg. I moaned.

Gentle hands pushed me away from the fighting and into a small, enclosed space. Maybe a nook under a long bench seat. The rain no longer pelted my face, but I lay in a pool of seawater. The wild weapons fire might have punched holes through the bottom of the boat.

If the boat sank, there was no way I could swim to shore with broken limbs. I’d sink like a stone.

My eyelids fluttered open.

A blurry, shadowy figure with several long tentacles ripped a Ymarian in half. Viscera splattered the interior of the boat, which was already covered in blood and body parts.

The creature flung the Ymarian’s remains over the side. In the dark and rain, little of his body was visible except human-like arms and legs and a pair of glowing silvery-blue eyes.

Someone grabbed my arm and hauled me out from under the seat. A fresh wave of agony made my vision go hazy.

I faded in and out, only marginally aware that I dangled in the grip of an enormous, snarling, red-skinned Atolani male clad in a leather vest and pants. He held me up with one arm wrapped under my arms, dragging me toward the boat’s stern as he fired at the creature who’d apparently killed everyone else on the boat.

The creature evaded each bolt of plasma fire, moving faster than I could track in my dazed, pain-addled state. What the hells was he?

With what sounded like a curse in his native language, the Atolani braced himself with his feet wide apart as the boatrocked. He shoved the glowing barrel of his plasma gun against my temple. Searing pain. I moaned.

At the other end of the boat, the creature went still.

A bolt of lightning revealed that we were surrounded by scattered body parts, but not enough to account for the number of voices I’d heard. Most of the remains must have been washed or tossed overboard. The head of a Ymarian lay at my feet, their three lifeless eyes fixed and dull and expression frozen in horror.

The flash of light also allowed me a glimpse of a male humanoid body with four long tentacles, glowing eyes, long white hair, and dark purple skin that almost blended in with the night except for its iridescent sheen. Blood in various colors covered every part of him I could see. He didn’t appear to be wearing any clothing, but his coiled tentacles hid everything below his waist. When the lightning faded, only his eyes remained visible, shining in the dark.

“Fuck off, or she dies,” the Atolani snarled at the creature in Alliance Standard.

That voice had barked orders earlier. Maybe he was the asshole who’d stepped on my hand.

The sea creature hissed and lowered his human arms, as if my life mattered to him. But why would it? He’d ripped everyone else in the boat to pieces.

Whose side was I on here? The Atolani who’d rescued me from my wrecked ship but found my pain amusing? Or the tentacled sea creature who’d just killed a half-dozen men or more, apparently for the hells of it?

Neither, I decided. I was onmyside. Maybe they’d kill each other. Then I’d try to pilot this leaky boat to shore. At least I’d have a chance to rescue myself instead of being some Atolani’s toy or a sea creature’s dinner.

With no weapons and no ability to fight, I did the only thing I could: I bit the Atolani’s bare forearm with all my might. Witha bellow, he ripped his arm out of my mouth. I spat out nasty dark blood and a gobbet of flesh.

I caught a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye just before a body made of what felt like solid muscle crashed into us. The Atolani lost his grip on me and fired wildly as he stumbled. The bolt of plasma singed my hair and missed my head by centimeters.

The sea creature’s fist punched straight through the Atolani’s chest and ribcage with a thick, meaty crunch. More blood sprayed across my face. Oh, gods. My stomach heaved, and that agony made me start to fade out again.

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