Page 61 of Infala: Bonded to the Enemy
Valin’s knowledge of his command was impressive. He knew the details of every last system on the station, down to the myriad grunt jobs his underlings would be tasked with handling. His was an old-school mentality among Dohrags. Namely, the man in charge should understand each and every facet of the systems his men were assigned to. It was the only way one could ever know for sure if a job was being done properly.
Of course, it was not always that way. Oftentimes, the most aggressive and driven were the ones scaling the ladder of success, and frequently without having put in their time at the lower levels. Given his bloodline and subsequent years held back, overlooked for promotion after promotion, Commander Valin had worked exponentially harder than his peers until even the commanding officers’ prejudices couldn’t deny his abilities. He knew the workings of their warships better than almost anyone, and at long last his promotion to commander was finally in order.
And then he’d been assigned command of an orbital resupply platform in an unremarkable system far, far away from any sort of action.
But Valin had taken it in stride. This was just one more steppingstone on his lengthy ascent. He set to work learning all hecould about his new command, and in very short order had it operating at peak efficiency. He was not pleased to be overseeing slave labor, however. His mother had been one such prisoner, and though she never spoke ill of his father, he knew the sacrifices she’d made. The difficult decisions that shaped her fate.
But he did his duty, branding the prisoners as was expected, even making a show of it in true Dohrag style, the bravado and attitude crucial in maintaining his control over his men, if not their respect. But he also put an end to any females being snuck up to the station. While he couldn’t ban certain Dohrag practices outright, he could at least enforce the rules, and in so doing reduce the frequency of such assaults. They would still happen on the surface, but there was only so much even he could do. Overstep too far and he’d lose his command and things would go back to the way they’d been. And that was far, far worse.
And now he had just very willingly crossed that bridge and more, and he’d burned it to ashes behind him in a most spectacular manner in the process. Valin had not only gotten them off the platform without so much as a warning light or alarm sounding, having disconnected and bypassed them all, but he also used his knowledge to cripple the facility. And if it went as he planned, it would take days for those left behind to right his sabotage.
The crew would not be harmed, at least not beyond those he’d killed protecting his mate, but they would be debugging and restoring malfunctioning systems for a very long time. Scans from the station were set to degrade, first with small glitches, but ultimately shorting out the entire array, leaving the escape pod essentially invisible to the station should they search for it. And when the admiral’s command ship arrived and followed standard Dohrag operating procedure linking the ship to the station’s systems for the duration of their stay, his handiwork would infect their computers as well, leaving the formidable war vessel operating blind.
They would be able to repair the damage he wrought, eventually, but Valin’s vast knowledge of warship systems specificallywas now being put to good use. Use that, had they just promoted him to his rightful command rather than ship him off to a distant supply outpost in a podunk system, they’d never have experienced. Fate, it seemed, had quite the sense of irony.
As the couple made their hasty escape, Valin felt they would be safe from observation. Of that aspect of his plan he was quite confident. The landing, however, was another matter entirely.
“Hold steady,” he said in the calmest voice manageable. “We will be down soon.”
Shalia gripped her armrest hard as the pod bucked and rattled its way into the atmosphere. She’d have grabbed his hand if she could, but he needed both of them to guide the barely maneuverable pod toward the planet’s surface. All Shalia could do was hang on for dear life.
She had flown weightless for a period, the pod’s designers not wasting power or resources on artificial gravity, but once they’d passed through the exosphere and into the buffeting winds of high altitude, she felt her body pressed hard into the seat.
The pod shook as Valin fired the maneuvering thrusters until they finally burned out. He’d expected that to happen. More importantly, his calculations had been more or less accurate. They were descending on-course, and the malfunctioning station was blocking them from the arriving ship’s scans, if only just.
“Almost there,” Valin grunted, straining his focus on the altitude readings, his finger hovering over the emergency deceleration activation key. “Any second. Here we go!”
He jammed the button. Shalia’s body compressed into the seat so hard she saw stars. A moment later she blacked out entirely, the g-forces simply too great for her to overcome. She slowly regained her senses, her body swaying gently in rhythm, the smell of fresh air filling her nose as her eyes fluttered open. They’d left the station at night, but the orbiting platform was subject to a timed schedule rather than a solar one. The planet ran on its own clock, but on the surface it was morning.
She looked up. Valin’s beautiful face was the first thing shesaw, determined, proud, and, when he glanced down to meet her gaze, loving.
“You are okay. Take your time. I’ve got you,” he said, the vibration of his voice rumbling her entire body. “Just rest.”
Shalia realized she was cradled in his arms, held close as he carried her over uneven terrain. She saw the straps on his shoulders, the trees and clouds overhead. They were out of the pod. More than that, he’d gathered their supplies and was now carrying her away from the downed vessel.
“How long was I out?”
“Not long. The pod landed above a ravine. We came in hot; the whole thing was more or less ruined from the strain. It wouldn’t have been of any use to us, so I offloaded our things and used a branch for leverage to tip it over.”
“You dumped it into the ravine?”
“It rolled quite well once it got going. Right over the edge and out of sight. Even if they get their scanners working, there’s no trace of it beyond a few busted trees. And minus the pod, that alone won’t attract anyone’s attention. We’re going to be okay.”
Shalia felt relief wash over her. She’d been comfortable in the Oraku camp, but this was different. Valin was hers, watching over her with protective ferocity, and for the first time since she’d been abducted from Earth by the Raxxians, she finally felt truly safe. And when he looked at her like he did, emotion raw and unguarded in his eyes, she felt something else.
She felt at home.
Shalia leaned up and kissed his neck, his pulse suddenly pounding much harder under her lips.
“Thank you.”
“There is no need to thank me.”
“Well, I’m doing it anyway. You got us out of there in one piece, and that’s noteworthy in my book. Now, put me down, will you?” she said with a little chuckle.
He gently lowered her to her feet, strong hands making sure her legs were steady before releasing his grip. Shalia had brieflyentertained the thought of a quick thank you mouth hug, but they were out in the open and running for their lives, even if their immediate path had been obscured. Besides, there would be time for that later. Right now, the emphasis was figuring out where they were and finding some shelter for the night.
“The area looks kinda familiar,” she noted, wondering if this sort of tree and groundcover was common across a large area.
