Dominance Fury Read online

  Trigon Rituals III:

  Dominance Fury

  By

  Angelia Whiting

  © copyright by Angelia Whiting, July 2011

  Cover Art by Eliza Black, July 2011

  ISBN 978-1-60394-506-6

  New Concepts Publishing

  Lake Park, GA 31636

  www.newconceptspublishing.com

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

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  Chapter One

  "Command Control, star jet two-four-one ready for docking."

  "Two-four-one, you're clear."

  The star pilot smiled widely and readjusted her ear-bud. "That you, Claire?"

  "Affirmative, Lieutenant Laurens. Reduce your speed and bring 'er on in."

  "Initiating." Sydney Laurens flipped several switches on her flight panel, now feeling even more anxious to complete the docking. They hadn't seen each other in months, and the last time they'd spoken, Claire announced she'd been assigned to the International Space Station but didn't know when her arrival would be. What a day! Sydney was ecstatic. Not only had she just completed her first solo Earth to ISS flight but her best friend, Lieutenant Claire Thomas had arrived sometime during the week-long span that Sydney had spent back on Earth.

  "Sensors confirmed, you're in position," Claire reported. "Two minutes to contact."

  "Yes!" Sydney pumped a fisted hand in victory, her ego inflating a bit at her perfect alignment with the interface. On her first try no less! She sighed with relief when the docking ring clanked in place over her vessel's hatch.

  "Command Control to star jet two-four-one," Claire announced. The cheeriness was apparent when she spoke. "Hook-up complete. Glad I'm here to see it, congratulations, gal pal."

  "Nice, job Lieutenant, welcome back." a male voice spoke next. "I'll see you in debriefing."

  It was Major Thomas, Sydney's commanding officer and flight trainer. He was also Claire's husband.

  "Thank you, sir," Sydney returned, as she unsnapped the chin guard to her helmet. A tremendous sense of pride filled her. She'd done it. Against all odds and in defiance of the skeptics who said she couldn't do it, Lieutenant Sydney Michelle Laurens had overcome her demons and was making a success of her life.

  The canopy on her ship hummed open, revealing the oxygenated interface tunnel that led to the interior of the space station. Gravity still eliminated she floated to the hatch at the opposite end. The red light above flared on, and an alarm buzzed.

  "ISS inner hatch secured." A platform crewman radioed. "Opening outer hatch, stand clear."

  There was an echoing clank, the hatch opened and Sydney drifted through.

  "Clear," she said while giving a thumb up to the security cams at the same time. The hatch closed behind her, sealing Sydney inside of the small mid-chamber where artificial gravity would be activated. Stabilizing her feet in the anchor straps on the floor, and grasping the hand bars on the wall, Sydney waited. Transitioning from weightlessness to heaviness was less than a comfortable thing, and it often left her nauseated.

  "We can fly men to Mars." Sydney mumbled. "You would think they could find a better way to gravitize without making someone sick."

  "What was that Lieutenant?"

  "I said I'm secure for re-gravitization."

  "Check…Initiating."

  A whirring sound was her only warning before it felt as if a rock had plummeted in her stomach. The downward, heavy tug on her organs, muscles and bones had her gasping a breath, but because of the extensive training and conditioning she'd gone through, her body adapted quickly, other than the queasiness now settling in. That would subside slowly, lingering in her stomach for at least an hour or so. Chamomile tea usually helped a little and that she would seek as soon as possible. There was another buzz and the inner hatch released. Sydney stepped through and entered the international space station where she was greeted with congratulatory claps from the tech crew inside. The smile that beamed from her lips was a mile wide. Without a hitch in her pace, Sydney pulled off her helmet. She tossed it to the Chief Engineer who stood to her right.

  He saluted her. "Nice job, Lieutenant.

  "Hey thanks," Sydney said proudly and continued toward the hatch on the opposite side.

  Claire was standing in the open entranceway to Command Control. In her hand she held a steaming mug that Sydney knew was filled with the much needed tea.

  "What a great surprise!" Ignoring the forbidden public display of affection while in uniform Sydney wrapped her arms around her friend.

  "Oops! Careful." Claire balanced the mug she held. "You'll spill the tea."

  Sydney pulled back to get a look at her friend, the smile she carried with her from the docks stretching more widely. "I didn't expect you here so soon, Claire."

  "Rowan pushed up my transfer so I could watch your maiden flight." Claire handed the mug to her.

  "Maiden," Sydney harrumphed dolefully.

  Claire winced. "Sorry sweetie, poor choice of words."

  She knew Sydney's chastity was a touchy subject particularly since her last attempt to get her maiden condition to take flight left her completely humiliated. The guy was a prude anyway. So what if she wanted his buddy to join them. Nothing odd about a virgin wanting two men at once, right? Claire laughed her ass off claiming she always knew that Sydney had a wild streak hiding somewhere inside of her.

  "Awe Claire," Sydney brushed away the memory and wrapped her hands around the mug welcoming the soothing heat from the cup that warmed her palms. "No worries gal pal. You know I love you and appreciate how you're always here for me."

  She took a sip of her tea, the herbal aroma caressing her nose. It smelled wonderful and the temperature was perfect. "So, hubby actually did something nice?"

  Now it was Sydney's turn to taste her foot. Only recently had Claire discovered her husband's infidelities, and the wounds still splayed raw.

  "I threatened to reveal his dirty little secrets to his superiors. You know how he prides himself on his impeccable reputation."

  Claire's devious smirk and nonchalance belied the pain that prickled beneath the surface. One thing was for sure, had Sydney been aware, she would've most definitely informed Claire, right after she pummeled the crap out of Major Thomas the tomcat, Rowan, superior or no superior. Risking court martial would be worth defending her best friend.

  "When are you off duty?" Sydney changed the subject--enough of the reminders that both of them had shitty luck with relationships. "We'll have to catch up."

  "In four hours."

  "I'll probably be out like a light by then."

  Claire shrugged. "Well I'm not going anywhere for awhile."

  "I'll catch you later then, gal pal." Careful to keep the mug level, Sydney wrapped her other arm around Claire and hugged her again. "I'm so glad you're here. I've missed you."

  "I've missed you too, Sydney," Claire returned.

  Sydney released her. "Okay, I've gotta get to debriefing."

  Turning, she began heading down the hall, sipping her tea and listening to the rhythmic clanking of her boots on the metal grid walkway beneath her feet. Her attention snapped to an observation window she was passing, the view she had of the Arctic Ocean and the most northern edges of the earth's land masses drawing a chuckle from her. Sydney felt as if she was on top of the world, and technically, she was. What a great day.

  "It was detected at these coordinates." Major Rowan Thomas was standing at the front of the debriefing room speaking to four civilian mission specialists, when Sydney entered. He was pointing at a star map. He acknowledged her presence with a glance as she to
ok a seat in the row behind the rest of the crew. She sat quietly and listened as the Major continued to speak. "Anyone have a clue?"

  "Ser, dar vas a change in electromagnetic energy." Landon Mihailov reported, his Russian accent thick.

  "That would explain the flash," the Major returned. His attention shifted to another of the scientists. "Frenchy, any input?"

  Rena Chabot tapped the keyboard on her palm wizard. She studied the screen. "There was un shift in la density."

  "I got the same readouts," added Leo Jacobs, who sat in the seat next her. "Negative mass."

  "A vormhole?" Landon smirked, and Sydney was suspicious that he was mocking his colleagues. "Vere dar vas never vun before?"

  "One we nevair detected before, monsieur." Rena chided, her eyes narrowing. The tension between them was almost palpable.

  "Just keep monitoring it." The Major's attention shifted toward Sydney after making his comment. "Laurens, anything unusual happen when you were on the perimeter of the docking lane?"

  Sydney stared at him pensively. Unusual…? On approach to the ISS, Sydney felt the uneasiness in her stomach, but there was something else. She experienced the distinct lightheadedness that preceded the fainting spells she used to have, those that were followed by the appearance of… No. No, no, no, no , not even going there.

  "No sir, nothing," Sydney told him. It was just the over-excitement of flying solo for the first time, and nervousness. Yes, that's all it was, and nothing more. I hope.

  "Fine then, report for duty at o-five-hundred," Major Thomas returned. His gaze then passed along each crew member. "Keep me abreast. Otherwise, dismissed."

  Oh snap! Sydney grimaced as she scratched the back of her neck. O-five-hundred. That would give her about four hours of sleep. She watched her commander exit the room while the others stood murmuring amongst themselves. So much for catching up with Claire.

  Rena turned her head rather abruptly and grinned at Sydney. "Congrasulasions, lieutenant."

  "Vun of da most perfect dockings I have seen," Landon returned. Approaching he patted her on the left shoulder. "Glad you veren't sucked through dat vormhole."

  Jonah Matthews, the fourth missions specialist piped in, "I wish she had been. It would've shut that skeptical pie hole of yours."

  Landon snorted. "Did you hear vhat he said, meess?"

  Qia qrau! Bastard!

  "Bastard?" Sydney mumbled. She scanned the room. Who said that?

  Overhearing her curse Rena laughed.

  "Did she just call me a bastard?" Jonah feigned indignation.

  "What?" Sydney looked at him. That odd uneasiness she hadn't felt for years began to resurface.

  "Hey, don't blame you, Sydney." Leo sided with her. "He just wished that you had been sucked into outer space. I'd call him a bastard, too."

  "No, I didn't mean…" Sydney frowned and then put the mug she was still holding to her lips, gulping down the rest of her tea. She could swear she heard someone yell the word bastard. "Hey listen, I'm going to head to my quarters for some sleep." Sleep, yah. That's what I need.

  A faked yawn emerged from Sydney's mouth. At the same time she stretched out her arms as if tired. With the mug still dangling from her hand, Sydney headed toward the door giving a backward wave to the crew. Once outside she leaned against the wall feeling faint. Air rushed from her open mouth allowing denial to edge out her worse fears. Just stress and exhaustion, that's all it is. She'd been taking her medication as prescribed … mostly as prescribed. There was no way the voices were coming back.

  "Hey lieutenant, congratulations."

  Sydney started at the unexpected voice. Major Paula Dobson, one of the station's physicians was coming up the hall. She stopped and gave Sydney an inquisitive look. "I assume you're on your way to me for your physical?"

  "Ah, yes ma'am. I was about to do that."

  It was a lie. Sydney had forgotten the routine examination she was supposed to have when she docked. Her mind was preoccupied.

  "You okay, Lieutenant?" Paula was still staring at her. "You look like a ghost."

  "You mean I look like I've seen a ghost?"

  "Uh no, you look like a ghost. You're as pale as one."

  "I'm fine." Another lie. Sydney wasn't fine. The ghosts of spirits from long ago were buzzing in her head again, and apparently turning her into one of them.

  "Come on I'll walk with you," Dobson said.

  With a nod Sydney followed her, allowing the casual conversation--how's the parents, did you see the latest show of Intensive Makover: Cool Styles for Outer Space edition--distracting her and relaxing her a bit, bringing her back to reality.

  "So what do you think about the producers of that reality game show wanting to maroon contestants inside of a Mar's eco-settlement?"

  Trihb vergi! Your mother…!

  The voices again .…

  "Get out!" Oh snap, she'd said that out loud. Sydney's eyes flicked towards Paula, her mind quickly shifting from focusing on the subconscious voices to the outside world of reality.

  "No it's true," Paula said. Stopping at a doorway, she pressed a button on the wall and then waved Sydney through when the door slid open. "Everybody's talking about it."

  What the hell was Paul talking about? Sydney rewound the conversation. Oh yah, that popular reality game show people had been consumed with for years. "I hardly believe that the International Space Administration will grant it."

  "Pft, I'd be very surprised, but you know Hollywood, endless cash flow and people to bribe." Paula patted the cushioned examining table. "Have a seat."

  Sydney climbed atop the table to sit on her bottom.

  Nestrik aja be ve!

  …the voices…No, not now, not ever! Get out of my fucking head!

  "Unzip," Paula instructed, waiting for Sydney to comply.

  Sydney blinked, her mind becoming disconnected from her surroundings.

  "Lieutenant?"

  "Huh?" Sydney shook off the fog. "Uh…oh."

  She unzipped the front of her flight suit stopping at her stomach, and then sliding the garment from her shoulders so it pooled around her waist.

  "Are you alright?" Paula pressed her stethoscope to Sydney's chest and listened. "You're zoning."

  "I'm fine," Sydney returned.

  "Deep breath." Paula moved the stethoscope to different areas of Sydney's back.

  Inhaling, Sydney complied while tacking her thoughts onto the tangible around her and ignoring the voices. It had been eons since she'd had to deal with appearing sane while dealing with the concurrent non-reality taking place in her head. She was out of practice.

  "Another deep breath," Paula requested. "I think if the price is right, the Administration will consider just about anything."

  "The price of what?" Sydney frowned.

  "The game show?" Paula answered. "Mars?"

  "Maybe," Sydney returned generically, watching as the doc recorded the medical data into her handheld. "So, do I get a clean bill of health?"

  "Well you're not dead, yet."

  "Yet?" Sydney forced a chuckle. "Are you sure? You said I looked like a ghost."

  "I want you to chilax for the breeding." Paula grinned at her.

  Sydney stared at her. "Wha…?" Chilax for the breeding? "Say again, doc."

  "I said that I want you to get some rest after the debriefing." Paula answered. "Your pulse is a bit fast and your blood pressure is up, but I'm sure it's just the stress over your solo. I'll check it again later."

  She forgot sweaty palms. Sydney gulped. Her palms only got sweaty when they were wiggling around inside of her brain. Flattening her hands on her thighs, Sydney rubbed them dry, readjusted her flight suit and then slid from the examining table.

  Chilax for the breeding…Sydney snorted inwardly. Damn her mind was playing tricks on her. She bid a see-ya-later-doc to Paula and went to her quarters relieved to be away from the others and in the privacy of her own space. She'd play catch-up with Claire later. At the moment, Sydney thought at
least a few hours sleep might do her some good.

  The tiny, eight-by-eight chamber was designed for efficiency with everything built into the walls, much like the sleeping spaces on a Navy ship. Sydney had prettied up the place a bit, disguising the never ending black and steel gray that coated ninety percent of the this floating space bucket's innards, including much of the furniture. She'd stashed the boring, gray military issued bedding in her foot locker in favor of lavender sheets and slept under a plush and cozy multi-colored, flowered comforter. Above her bed she'd draped a rich-colored, purple lace sheer. A couple of Marten Jansen abstracts--reproductions of course--Sydney wasn't rich, some printed digitals of friends and family were sticky-tacked around the place, and a bud vase stuffed with fake flowers were placed on her desk. Viola! Call it home. Well sort of. Okay, maybe not, but it was the best she could do with the diddly-squat she was allowed to transport to the station. Sydney plopped onto the rose colored cushion covering the steel gray seat on the only chair in her room. She fished for the meds she kept in the inside pocket of her flight jacket. Her head was starting to pound and the nausea was still irritating her stomach

  "My life savers." She spoke to the bottle as if it were a beloved friend, popped the lid off and swallowed a pill without water, something she'd grown accustomed to doing. "I can't believe I forgot to take these."

  Going to sleep seemed like the next best option because Sydney suddenly felt exhausted. Unable to even muster the energy to amble down the hall to the woman's bathroom, Sydney gave her teeth a once-over with her sonic toothbrush and paste, rinsed with the bottled water on her desk and then swallowed it. She then stripped to her underclothes and snuggled beneath her comforter. Grasping her pillow, she cuddled it while waiting for her meds to take effect, wishing she hadn't skipped the last two doses. She'd been too distracted with her upcoming flight and had forgotten, or maybe hoped it wouldn't matter. Denial really, she'd hoped she was cured.

  "I need to stop testing that," Sydney mumbled. It was a foolish thing to do because the last thing she needed was to become ill. If NASA found out about it her career would be over. She'd be sentenced to ground duty, banned from flying. All washed up at age twenty-six. Thank goodness her family doctor who provided her with the meds had agreed to keep her sickness private.