Page 10 of Chieftain
Raising his head, Charick's gaze caught on something, lips twisting. "No sign of the other humans?"
"None, my Sage." Bartuk gave Charick the honor of his title. "All our preboarding scans show only one human." His eyes flickered to the corpse. "This one."
“Fuck!” While my friend found much of the English language superfluous and repetitive, he had an odd affection for the curses. “This means they were on the four smaller skiffs—already through the wormhole by now.”
“Our brethren will take up the search.” I insisted.
“They need to know the humans can never return to Earth.”
His words held a chill, and I followed his line of sight, my stomach clenching angrily.
It was just a box. A large white box set with smoky glass screens set into each side. A small console with dials and levers jutted out from the wall beside a small opening, next to an empty—thank Valana—gurney.
“Is that?” Bartuk’s eyes were wide, tone dripping with wonder.
“A Garoot 7tX 4729E Healer.” Charick sighed.
"It's quite a find, isn't it?" The young warrior was all about the prize. And it was a prize, to be sure. The Garoot were a technologically advanced species whose particular skill was healing. No ship in the galaxy flew without one of their Medi-comms, which could detect and cure most illnesses, repair a broken bone in less than an hour, and reattach a severed limb without losing function. The healing chamber sitting before us was something more…. something dangerous. Only a few were known to exist, available to only the very rich and powerful. It was said time within the chamber could restore one from death. I wasn't sure I believed in the machine's resurrection properties. Still, I had first-hand experience with what it did to humans. It was a crime in the Planetary Alliance to traffic humans, punishable by one hundred years of hard labor on the rock planet, Uxxus 3. It was a death sentence to traffic humans with the aid of a Garoot Healer.
“Do you think….” I pressed my lips together, wrestling with the decision to bring the chamber aboard my vessel.
"That they used it on the humans?" Charick knew me well. He gave an aggravated snort. "Of course, they did—it makes their job easier."
"I don't understand. What would be so bad about using the chamber on humans? Surely it would heal them?" Bartuk's gaze bounced between me and my Sage.
“It heals them alright,” Charick huffed.
I walked near the chamber, placing my hand flat atop one of the smoky screens. A small current of electricity hummed under my fingertips. My imagination, perhaps, or the lingering static of recent use.
"It can heal humans, yes." I agreed, my eyes trained on the smoky screen as if I could somehow ferret the machine's history. The pulse that short-circuited the ship also affected the chamber. The healer's memory banks, however, might hold something of worth. "The problem is that it affects humans on a molecular level. It changes them.”
"How so?" Bartuk stepped beside me, squinting at the machine.
"The machine can reset a human body to its most perfect state of health," Charick explained as he dug through a basin of Medical tools. "For some humans, the aging process is reversed and stalled. For others, it means chronic illnesses are cured. Females are especially changed; the chamber alters their reproductive system so that human women can breed with other species.”
"Our directive is to rescue humans and return them to Earth. Once a human has been through the healer, they can never return home." I turned to my Sage, mind made up."Charick, we will take the Garoot Healer and any other viable tools and supplies aboard our ship."
My Sage's eyes widened fractionally, the only sign of his surprise at my decision. “Of course, Chieftain. And the ship itself?"
“Destroy it.”
It took half of what humans call a day for my crew to strip the Trogvyk vessel of usable supplies, including the Garoot Healer. Once the last transport ship left the dock with our bounty, Tarook, my weapons master, hacked into the ship's self-destruct sequence, giving us a few minutes to get clear. Charick grumbled that we should leave more time on the self-destruct counter—but where would be the fun in that?
“Congratulations on another successful mission Chieftain." Daicon stood on the ramp, drenched in dark green Trogvyk blood so that his broad smile was starkly white.
“Did you capture anyone?” I queried, my left brow cocked high in question.
Daicon gave a huff but didn't answer. He didn't need to. Faced with certain death for their crimes, the Trogvyk chose to die in battle—as any true warrior should. Our only prisoner was the healer we found in Medi-Bay. If he was anything like our healer Hakkar, he would know as much about the Trogvyk ship as its captain.
“Good work, warrior," I squeezed Daicon's shoulder, my hand coming away smeared with drying Trogvyk blood.
"All our people are on board, chieftain," Tarook informed me, comm in hand. "Will three minutes be enough to get clear?"
"Not for most," I gave him a wry grin. "But we are Vaktaire." My remaining crew gave a loud rumbling whoop—the Vaktaire battle cry.
Tarook's fingers hit his keypad, starting the clock. I turned to ascend the shuttle ramp after him when an alarm sounded on Bartuk's scanner.
"Is that a perimeter alert?" Charick asked, stepping beside the younger warrior to peer down at his screen. Foreboding skittered along my spine. Nothing should remain alive on the ship sans my crew.
