Sky Pirates: Slaves of the Mind

Amira

Amira sped down the steps to the lower deck, jumping the last three steps and landing with perfect ease, going straight in to a run. She had heard Kiarya's screams over the sound of the battle, but had kept her fear hidden from the crew during the fight, but now she was below decks it flooded through her, crescendo-ing as Kiarya screamed again. Amira stopped outside the door to the surgeon's cabin, crushing the desire to burst into the room, knowing that if she startled Eylle, she could very well be the cause of Kiarya's death. The screaming stopped, replaced by quiet snarls, and clatter as tools where lain down. Amira knocked. The soothing tones to Eylle's voice beckoned her in, Amira entered. Kiarya was laid out on the surgeon's table, bloodied rags in a pile beside her, a clean bandage wrapped around her chest. The werewolf was moaning softly, half in and out of consciousness. Amira looked to Eylle for permission, the Surgeon nodded consent to the unspoken request. In a few swift strides Amira was beside one of her oldest friends, stroking a loose piece of hair from her sweat covered forehead. Reasuring both Kiarya and herself that they were alright.

"It was lucky," Eylle said "any longer and she would have been in Elysium." Amira looked at the reptiliod woman carefully. Werewolves were seldom hurt by anything; the only thing that was fatal to them was-

"What was it?" The Captain demanded, needing to know if her suspicions were true. Eylle held out a metal bowl to her, Amira swore. Inside was a Silver Bullet.

The crew turned to look at her as Amira flung open the hutch to the lower decks. By the worry that crossed their faces as they looked at her, Amira knew exactly how she looked; her expression hard and deadly, she was in what was known among the crew as the 'Killing Haze'. Their worry was not for her, but for anyone who got in her way.

"Where are the prisoners?" She demanded. She knew there were some; she'd taken one captive herself.

"In the hold." Vickeri informed her. Amira nodded in acknowledgement to the Fae's answer. She turned to Ophelia.

"Come with me Quarter Master. The rest of you continue clearing up."

Amira strode down to the hold, Ophelia at her heels trotting to keep up; despite the advantage of height her heels gave her over the short captain. Anger burned inside her as she walked, it was a fight to keep it in check and one that Amira was barely holding her ground in.

"Did you see who shot her?" she asked Ophelia

"No, it was the smell."

"Did you know it-"

"Was Silver? Yes, I smelt that too." Amira slammed her fist into the wall. The sudded decelleration almost  causing Ophelia walked in the smaller human.

"The Vile SCUM!" Her rage filled her up, fuelled by the worry and fear she felt for her fallen friend.

"Captain-"

"How?! How did they know? It's almost impossible to spot a werewolf! Ships never prepare for it! So tell me how they KNEW!"

"Tom!" Ophelia's voice was stern, but not raised above average pitch. The use of her old name, by which Ophelia had first met her, jolted Amira back to reality, clearing the fog of rage that had consumed her. Amira turned and continued walking; the sound of high heels on wood reassuring her that the Vampire had decided to follow her. They stopped outside the door to the hold, Amira when to open the door, but Ophelia up her hand on her shoulder,

"Are you sure about this, Captain?" she asked. Amira looked at her blankly "I mean, might it not be better to get another member of the crew to interrogate them."

"I'm not going to kill them Quarter Master." Amira replied in a tone that said it was final. "I need them alive." She unlocked the door and opened it, then glanced back at Ophelia, a steely glint in her eye "For now."