Shattered Salvation, Draft 1 CH 49

Story by Kindar on SoFurry

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#50 of Shattered Salvation

draft 1 of Book 4 in the Tristan Series, where The rescue of an old man turns into a race to find a virus that could wipe out all life in the universe

Tristan drafts Mary into helping him prepare for Barran's transportation

if you want to read ahead of everyone else, the complete story is available on my Patreon https://www.patreon.com/kindar

or, you can buy the published book on many E-book reseller https://books2read.com/u/bpEwxW

or in print https://www.goalpublications.com/store/p84/shattered-salvation-paperback.html

Posted using PostyBirb


Things clatter to the floor as Tristan searched through the cabinets. He'd already found the nutrient bars and was devouring is eighth, but he needed something to help him stay awake. It had been some time since he'd had a proper rest, and the virus was clearly burning his energy to heal him, and after the fight it was taking its toll.

That was why he was so erratic. The need for sleep. Once he could rest he'd be able to think, unfortunately there was still too much to do. And he wasn't closing his eyes with the biochemist able to roam freely, or Alex being awake. There was no telling what the human would do to him if given the chance.

Antibiotics, Heals, immune boosters. Didn't this ship have any stimulants? He opened another cabinet and went through its content. He found the stimulant behind the anesthetics.

He checked the vials, they were all for humans. He cursed. It wasn't just a question of needing a larger dosage to account for his larger body mass. Samalian physiology was subtly different. He looked through the components and didn't find anything in the makeup that was harmful to him.

He took four vials and inserted one in an injector. He almost had it to his neck when he cursed again. He was still infected. For all he knew the virus would attack the stimulant and the result would be him being more tired, not less.

He picked up an empty injector and stalked to the fabricator. "Well?"

The biochemist jumped and yelped. She wanted to run, but caught herself. "It's almost done." Her voice was shaky.

The dispenser of the fabricator opened and Tristan grabbed the vial out of it.

"Wait," the woman said as Tristan inserted it in the injector. "You don't know how it's going to interact with your body. It might not even work on you. I designed it with me in mind, you should let me take a blood sample so I can customize it to your metabolism."

"The virus affects me the same as you, this will to."

"You can't--" she stopped talking as Tristan injected himself.

"How long until it kills the virus?"

"I don't know. It isn't like I've been able to run tests on it. I barely had enough time without supervision to finalize it and input the formula in the fabricator for the one vial you took for me."

"The next one's yours, get it started. We have work to do in the meantime." Tristan gave himself two dozes of stimulant, and pocketed half a dozen more. He'd take them as needed.

He did a quick check of the medical bay, but didn't find what he was looking for. Not every manufacturer was smart enough to put the bay close to the hull so it could have its own escape pods.

He grabbed her arm as he headed out. She protested. He ignored her. They were closer to the port side, so he headed there. He found them next to a viewing lounge.

He had to bypass the lock since without an evacuation alarm it wouldn't open. He didn't bother being careful. He ripped the plate off and manually connected the wires. By the time he was done his fingers were burnt and bleeding. He took it as a good sign that they weren't healing as quickly as before.

Tristan surveyed the inside of the pod with disdain. It had a bunk bed, equipped with a field stasis system, a small food preparation area with a food fabricator capable of preparing extensive meals. The shower used water, which meant there was space dedicated to storing a lot of it. So much luxury, so much waste.

He preferred keeping things to essentials. If he had the time he'd strip everything that wasn't needed out, but that would take too long.

"Go back and assemble a medical kit for you and one injured passenger. It needs to last--" Tristan thought about it. How far were they from their client? It didn't matter, she was mobile. She could travel to pick up her brother. "It needs to last six months."

"I'm not--"

"I don't care!"

She backed away.

"You're getting a chance no one else on this ship is getting, so if you're not going to be useful I'm going to snap your neck right now."

She turned and ran. He didn't care if she was heading to the medical bay or elsewhere. If she didn't do what he told her he'd kill her and figure out something else for the target's transport.

He disabled the stasis system by ripping most of the wiring out. He couldn't afford for the virus to survive within its field. He set the air processing system to destroy any and all foreign biologicals.

He deactivated the emergency transponder every escape pod came with, then destroyed the communication system. He wasn't risking either of them calling for an early rescue, or trying to hail a passing ship. He also destroyed the sensors.

The biochemist returned with a pack. Tristan eyed it as she put it down.

"I have more," she said defensively.

Tristan went back to his work. He needed to pick a location that was far enough to give the system time to scrub the virus out of the air. He could probably ask her how long it would take, but he didn't need her. He didn't need anyone. He picked a spot four months away. The anti-virus would have ample time to do its work and once they weren't producing the virus anymore, the life support system would kill whatever was floating around.

What else? The target needed to be restrained. He could tie him down to one of the beds, but then the biochemist would have to do everything for him and she would be tempted to release him. He didn't expect him to be amiable to his situation once he was healed.

He needed something that kept him from reaching certain areas while allowing him access to the important places like the shower and food preparation.

He didn't know where on this ship he'd find what he needed so he started with Engineering. He found a storage area with tools there. He grabbed the welder and located a parts fabricator. It couldn't do restraints, this wasn't a prison ship, so he had to improvise. Fortunately, he'd grown up in an environment devoid of all this technology, So Tristan knew what would work, considering chains were what his father used on him. That and the cage.

He had to search through its database of items to find something that would work as a chain, and then he had to create the design for the manacles himself.

When he came back there were eleven cases against the pod's wall, and the biochemist was by the control, standing and taking a quick step away from them.

"I didn't touch anything."

She was lying, but Tristan didn't care. There was nothing she could do. He dumped the chains to the floor and adjusted the welder.

"What is that?"

"Restraints."

Fear crossed her face and she hurried out. He considered he should have said it wasn't for her. Now he was going to have to go looking for her when it was time. No, he'd sent Alex. It would give him something to do.

He wished he could just kill her and get it done with, she was a loose end. Someone he'd have to track down when he was better. He'd have to deal with whatever she'd arranged for protection. It would be so much simpler to do now.

But he needed her to look after the target. He couldn't have him die in transit. If he killed her it would only leave him and Alex. Tristan wasn't spending months with the target, he'd end up killing him himself. And he couldn't afford to leave Alex without supervision, he was too dangerous.

He sighed. He couldn't wait for this job to be over and done with, to sit in his workshop and take apart a lock in peace and quiet. To not have anyone both--

"Isn't that kind of archaic?"

Tristan looked at him, ear tilting. He was too surprised Alex knew what this was for to be angry at his presence.

"I did a job that took me to...I don't remember the name of the place, but it's one of those back-ass places, barely any technology. They used that to hold their prisoners. The bridge is up and running and the ship is mine to control."

Tristan caught the word, 'mine.' Alex thought he was in charge. He had a flash of anger and could see himself ripping the human's head off, but he contained it. He couldn't kill him right now. He'd have to see what kind of traps he'd left in the system first.

"Get the biochemist and wipe the virus out of her memory bank." He did the best he could to keep his voice even.

"She isn't going to like that."

"Alex," he growled. "Don't push me."

The human stiffened. "Where is she?"

"She ran off. You control the ship, find her."

Alex looked like he wanted to say something, but he turned and left.

Tristan found himself watching the human walk away. His shoulders, firm back, strong arms and legs, tight ass.

He wrenched his gaze away. This job needed to be done and over with so he could get rid of the human. He was a menace, a threat to his survival.

It was just a question of time until he was rid of him now.