by Vi Voxley
Up ahead, the commander seemed to have stopped again, but this time it wasn’t about them. All around him, the Brion line was stopping, looking around expectedly. Something had caught their attention. Darien looked around, trying to see the cause of the stop. They had come to this cold wasteland to find the Antanari champions, leaders of their people, without whom the species was thought to be left powerless and easier for the Union to deal with.
All around Antaris, the ships of the Brion generals were hovering above the ground, their commanders looking for and rooting out the champions on the surface. It was their job to draw the noose tight and not let them escape to another hidden, nigh impossible to see cave under the surface. Getting even this location had been a chore for their technicians. They couldn’t allow the opportunity to slip by.
Knowing the Brions were coming for them had made the Antanaris desperate. They weren’t going to surrender – not to them, nor to the Union – but they weren’t without self-preservation. The force of the Brions was great and now it was unleashed upon them. So they had launched another attack the moment the Brions arrived at Antaris, destroying tens of their ships trying to reach the surface. One of the big battle ships had escaped the same fate by an inch, having had its main engine sabotaged by fast-moving fighters. Brion blood had flown. There was to be no mercy.
From where they stood, Darien couldn’t see what the commander was doing, but he had fought alongside him for years. He could guess quite well. Since it was out of the question for the commander to talk with their enemy, and no sign of trouble showed in the ranks, he was calling for an attack from the hiding champions. The exact reasoning escaped him, but Darien supposed the commander could have given a pretense of injury or another reason to stop. Right now, they were simply standing idly – a perfect moment to use.
Beside him, Deliya was tense and focused. Their faith in the commander was absolute, so they all naturally went along with whatever his plan was to lure out the enemy. Maybe he’d seen something on –
Out from the white rocks, the enemy appeared. There was no time to question what had drawn them. Suddenly there they were, seemingly appearing from thin air from their hiding places. And just as Darien took off running he saw what had happened. There was a gap in their ranks that the enemy was going for now. It couldn’t have truly been a flaw, their commander didn’t make mistakes, but he had managed to make the Antanaris believe that. Grinning, Darien ran straight for the champions, Deliya by his side, her warriors at their back.
Behind them, the ranks closed. Out from every point of a rough square, elite squads closed in on the runners while others tightened the noose around them, slowly moving closer to center while taking care not to overlook anyone.
It didn’t take long for the champions to realize their mistake and see the commander’s trap, but by then they were already left with a single choice. As he ran, avoiding the chasms and razor-sharp edges of the rocky terrain, Darien felt his valor squares pulse to a joyous, delighted tune. The Antanaris didn’t despair. On the contrary, they howled to the uncaring stars and faced the Brions head-on.
All around them, Brion squares answered the challenge with the same surge of joy Darien felt. The Brions didn’t like enemies who ran. What honor was there in killing powerless, helpless opponents? No, true glory in battle came from real fights. The Antanaris weren’t going to receive any mercy from them, but they’d earned their respect nonetheless. Darien doubted they knew that, but the Brions would count their corpses among their more admired enemies.
Beside him, Deliya was running as swiftly as though she was floating. Even with the battle hormones pounding in his ears, his every sense sharpened to the maximum, he caught glimpses of her running by his side. Her long, dark hair billowed like a cloud behind her, giving her an ethereal look of beauty. She was tall and slender, a warrior goddess in true form, her green eyes shining with inner fire. A match for him, all his desires given form.
The commander chose his favored carefully, as was natural. The fact she could keep up with him was enough to make him grin. It was the Brion way to treasure the things they’d fought for hardest the most. And she was undoubtedly putting up a fight, making him desire her even more than he already did. It sent a pleasant shiver down his spine.
Under their feet, the snow all but bounced. The Brions were very spiritual when it came to the natural order of things. It seemed to Darien that the planet itself was rebelling against the intruders. Soft light snow glowing in the radiance of the valor squares was falling as they descended to the surface, making it harder for them to see traps. The ground shook from the heavy tread of the warriors running in sync with each other, battle trained together for years.
They were shaking the covering snow off the surface, making it look like it was floating inches above the ground while really it was rising and falling to match their steps. Still it obscured their vision, and the cold seeped through even their protective armor designed to generate heat from their bodies. Darien knew every last one of the Brion warriors on the field had the same thought as he: Antaris was fighting back and it was going to give them a good fight.
His eyes flickered to Deliya again. Bathed in the light she cast, she was simply gorgeous. Darien knew why men desired her so. It wasn’t simply the fact her curves could make anyone lose their hearts or that she smiled a lot, making each and every one of them smile with her – although she smiled less around him he’d noticed, only making his desire for her worse – or that she was strong and capable, sometimes even able to give the commander a true workout. It was the way her eyes lit up in battle, shining as if she’d had valor squares planted in them, unmatched in her ferocity. Snow fell around them, soft and gentle, so out of place in the roaring, wild, merciless crowd beneath the cold sky. The ground before them was already marred with streaks of red.
“Pick up the pace!” Deliya called to her warriors. “Can’t let them have all the fun without us!”
Darien smiled. It was a good, good day.
CHAPTER THREE
Deliya
No fear anymore. As Deliya ran, she didn’t even see a sign of the fear she’d glimpsed in Darien. As soon as the enemies made themselves known, he’d transformed completely, just like she’d seen him do on countless times before. Darien may have joked around while they were simply advancing, but in battle he was a Brion warrior first and person second.
She kept half a pace behind him on purpose to – to watch him, really. Like all the commander’s chosen, he was the living embodiment of a warrior. His messy dark hair framed his face, illuminated by the valor squares in his neck, going almost to his ears. His every step was precise and careful at the same time, and yet he didn’t give any leeway in his speed.
Others had to double-step behind them, sometimes stumbling on the icy, slippery ground, but he ran like there was nothing to be concerned about. Darien seemed to have no trouble finding just the right path to power through, straight to the heart of the battle.
Deliya’s eyes took in his form despite herself. To be fair, it shouldn’t have been all that special. They were all warriors, all in great shape. Only Darien fit together like he’d been crafted. He was tall, powerfully built, and not even the protective armor could hide his solid frame. Unbidden, Deliya imagined what he would look like without the armor, just him, bare, naked… perfect muscles glistening as he flexed them –
She had to shake her head clear. It was merely battle hormones flooding her body with emotions that so easily translated to lust. She respected Darien, but disliked him as well. Right. Right?
With a grin – Irresistible, flashed through her treacherous mind – Darien drew his battle spear, and they were right in the thick of the fight. She barely had time to get her own weapon free before giving herself completely over to the fates that decided all battles.
The Antanaris were huge, there was simply no better term to describe them. Big and brutal and heavy enough to make even a glancing blow devastating. It made them a sim
ple, but dangerous enemy. Some enemies required complicated tactics and needed to be outsmarted, but the Antanaris simply had to be fought. It was very simple: hit them, don’t get hit. The Antanaris were roughly humanoid, but resembled some huge hairy beasts more than the Brions.
Their teeth were long enough to be called fangs, and their hands had nails that could cut through steel. Their bodies were covered with thick white fur, making them nearly impossible to see on the ice fields unless they moved. Quite a few Brions had died before they’d learned to distinguish the enemies from the terrain.
For all their brutal looks, the Antanaris were far from stupid. The fur and the claws were simply adaptations to their ruthless planet. Underneath, a dark and bloody mind observed the galaxy. The Brions knew the look in their eyes instantly. It was a rage similar to their own bloody past, the reason the galaxy trusted them as little as they did. They were glad to understand – so they didn’t underestimate their enemy. With their bodies as good as weapons and minds as sharp as their own, the Antanaris were their dream opponents. Not that the Brions were unequipped.
The Brion battle spear was a miracle in the great galactic whole. It was heavy enough to be used to simply bludgeon the enemy to death, but boasted a few tricks as well. The blade was sharp and nigh unbreakable. Deliya liked it, enjoyed the weight in her hand, an extension of herself, sharp and powerful.
The champions met them, roaring in their strange language she didn’t speak. All of the surrounding Antanaris rounded on them and for a moment Deliya considered if they hadn’t run too far ahead of their support. It wasn’t a regret but hope. More fight for them.
She thrust the tip of the spear into the stomach of the first Antanari that stormed her, narrowly dodging out of the way of the creature’s claws aiming to gouge her eyes out. It growled even as it died, trying to pin her down with its weight, but Deliya yanked out the spear and jumped out of the way. The creature’s blood glittered in the light of her squares as another immediately took her fallen enemy’s place, only this time it kept a distance from her spear. It didn’t matter.
A spear wasn’t merely a striking weapon. Deliya took aim, every muscle in her arm tensing as she threw the spear with all her might.
The Antanaris had thick skin, and it would have been difficult to throw a spear and make it do some actual damage, which said something about the way the Antanaris were built, astounding even Brion scientists, who had thought no living being should be able to withstand weapons designed to cut through metal. So she threw the spear straight and swift towards the creature’s eye. For a moment, it didn’t seem to realize its end, towering above her. Then it roared and collapsed but not before Deliya had kicked its legs to make it fall on its back.
At the last second she retrieved her spear, before another Antanari thumped in her direction. Distantly, she sensed her warriors arriving. They’d run a considerable amount ahead, she realized. To her left, the snow was red with Antanari blood and Darien stood in the middle of it, breathing calmly, smiling as he always did in battle, victorious and strong. Deliya had to tear her eyes away when the newcomer’s weapon caught her attention.
She thought only then that the first wave had been butchering meat and not much more. They’d tried to hurt the Brions, pin them down, but they hadn’t even carried any weapons other than their claws. The true champions had simply sent them to slow down the attack.
What a horrible species, Deliya thought, disgusted. She didn’t understand how anyone could follow leaders who all but killed their own men, however as much as they understood, the Antanaris had a culture very different from their own. The champions ruled with absolute power, taking no responsibility. That single factor had eventually determined their fate in the eyes of the Union. The Brion Elders also ruled over their people without having to explain themselves to anyone, but they were reasonable, and acted according to certain rules and traditions.
They could be trusted to do what was best for all Brions. The Union found them strict and stubborn, but not malicious. The Antanaris were different.
The champion before her carried a blade as tall as her and thicker by far. How he could lift that thing was beyond Deliya, but the Antanari champions towered over even their monstrous species. It was a mountain of raw, hard muscle armed with a metal slab that could hardly be called a blade. Deliya didn’t know if her spear could actually block it without breaking.
It made no difference. She was a Brion warrior and dying against this beast wouldn’t be a shame to anyone.
The champion charged, swiping with the monstrous blade. It was so big that after jumping out of its way, she landed with one foot on the blade. Luckily, she was able to keep her balance or she would have been dead in seconds. The champion reacted at once, flipping her in the air, aiming to pierce her as she fell, but Deliya had not risen to one of the chosen of her commander to die such an ignoble death.
The size of the Antanari became a disadvantage as Deliya caught on to its fur and slammed the butt of her spear straight against its sharp fangs. The champion roared, unintentionally swallowing some of its own broken fangs, and flung her to the ground.
Under any other circumstances, Deliya would have been on her feet in seconds, but on Antaris, she slid further than she’d have liked. The champion accounted for that perfectly, of course. The huge blade cut down, big enough to slice her in two.
A spear caught its edge. Not Deliya’s, her weapon was still gripped in her hands, trying to halt her slide. Her first thought was, It didn’t break after all. Her second was, Oh gods, why him?
Right at their heel was simply stunned amazement. She couldn’t understand how Darien had been able to fend off the murderous weapon, almost as big as she. Yet he held on, two hands on the shaft, face twisted in determined rage. His green eyes burned, flashing. It took a second for Deliya to understand he was willing her to move, unable to break his concentration even to speak as the blade kept pushing down.
She rolled out of its way, still on the ever-cursed ice, which had to be a trap because no natural thing could be that slippery. Finally she stopped, feeling the welcome, manageable ice beneath her feet again. As she looked up, she just caught the moment the champion sent Darien flying against a pile of rocks so hard blood spurted from his mouth.
It was a peculiar sort of insult to aid a Brion warrior in battle, yet Deliya found her feet running towards the fight again. Suddenly her blood told her she couldn’t simply stand by and watch the warrior die, not after he had broken the same unwritten rules and saved her life. Twice now, on this planet of death. Deliya couldn’t say she was mad. She was in no way ready to die.
Running towards the champion, possibly to her death after all, she realized she wasn’t ready for Darien to die either. Her dislike of him suddenly seemed very irrelevant.
Darien raised his spear in his defense, but the movement was slower than it should have been.
“Move!” Deliya shouted, making them both turn her way.
Darien moved, and a moment later the blade demolished the rock he’d been leaning on. Then the champion turned to her. Like Deliya, it hadn’t risen to its position by being clumsy. The first blow she avoided, then the second, and then she felt another ledge at her back and realized it’d caught her. The creature’s eyes were bloodshot, almost black. Deliya braced herself for that to be the last image she ever saw as the champion raised the blade above its head with both hands. She jammed the spear into its stomach, but the champion didn’t even seem to notice.
It roared. Deliya took a deep breath. Funnily, her last thought returned to Darien.
Then a spear emerged from the champion’s chest, right where its heart was. The black eyes seemed surprised, as though it had never considered the possibility of death. Then it slumped, blood running down its fur. When it collapsed, Deliya saw Darien standing behind the champion, breathing heavily.
His valor squares pulsed relief, and joy, and lust.
Illuminated, literally, by his victory, Deliya had to
finally come face to face with how handsome she thought he was. The realization drove her mad, echoing in her own squares and making Darien’s lips curl upward ever so slightly. She snarled, but it was no use. He walked towards her, slowly and surely, big and mighty, with that damned knowing smile on his lips. Her body reacted to the sight at once, warming her even in the biting cold.
She wanted to hate him for making her feel so weak in the knees before him, but she only came up with more desire. Not even one inch of her wanted to push him away as he pulled her up against his strong body, fitting perfectly into his arms. Nor did she even whimper in protest as he bent down and kissed her, forceful and demanding.
And to top it all off, her body had completely abandoned her will to fight him at that moment, rubbing herself against him, hands around his powerful wide chest, opening her mouth to let him taste her. Even through both of their armors, which contorted to fit their bodies, she could feel him grow hard for her, growling deeply and seductively against her lips.
Lust roared in her blood, and she could see and feel his responding, but the battle roared around them. Antaris wasn’t done with them, but they weren’t done with each other either.
“Don’t die now,” Darien warned her, teasing. “I want to continue this.”
Deliya moved out of the embrace to punch him for that, but Darien sidestepped easily, smiling again, only this time there was the unmistakable flare of lust in his eyes.
She thought longingly of the time when the sight of him made her frown, not want to have him pound her until all the cold was gone from her bones.
Good times, she thought.
It was at that moment that the chieftain of the Antanari appeared, and Deliya had to wonder if perhaps she wasn’t destined to ever feel warm again.
CHAPTER FOUR
Deliya
The champions had roared their challenge to the Brions, but the chieftain was silent.