by Mina Carter
The big healer watched for a moment, noting the idiosyncrasies of the bots’ movements. There weren’t many drakeen-capable pilots in the battle group. From the way the one on the left moved, Kraan was piloting, which meant the other one was Isan. The other pilots would be off duty, sleeping, apart from Jathor, who had been killed in action yesterday.
Laarn’s heart ached for a moment. Jath had been in his and Tarrick’s training group during their childhood, a quick and capable warrior with a sharp sense of humor who had dreamed of finding his bond-mate. He’d been so excited at the news of the human women, sure his mate would be amongst them. He’d never gotten to meet them all and find out, bleeding out on a battlefield in the arse-end of beyond fighting traitors.
Laarn turned, his split second of reflection over. Combat bots raced to fill the gaps between the combat teams and the bigger drakeen. His medical pack over his back and a rifle in his hand, he kept an eye out as his team moved behind him.
Even now, without battle raging around them, they operated like a combat unit, moving further into the battlefield as they checked for wounded. Some were beyond help, their bodies simply tagged with locator beacons as the team moved on… others were more fortunate, able to be treated and walk out themselves. The badly injured were locator-tagged and evac’ed by bots as soon as they could be.
But that wasn’t why Laarn was here. Normally in a battle situation, he was far behind the lines, fighting a war of his own in surgery as he battled death and serious injury to bring a warrior from the brink. But not today.
“Anyone sees the general,” he bellowed. “I want to know. Immediately.”
His team nodded, a chorus of affirmative responses through his earpiece as they spread out to check the ground the battle had swept through. The word had come through early this morning about an attack through the southern lines, which they hadn’t been expecting. Xaandril had taken a company to check it out.
Hours later, three men had returned, battered and bloody, to say it had been a trick. Some of the men within the company had been traitors, purist sympathizers, and the battle had turned into a bloodbath. The general had been lost, last seen fighting ten men and a bot as he held a break in the lines all by himself. Then enemy reinforcements had arrived… No one had seen him fall, but he must have. No warrior could face such odds and win.
The senior warrior, Laarn had been forced to assume command of the entire war group, his duties as healer taking a back seat as he gave orders and sent men into battle. He had gone into battle himself, a rifle in his hand and any mercy he had from his healer’s calling locked down tight. It had been brutal and bloody, but eventually they had emerged the victors, sending the traitorous combined forces fleeing broken for their lives. Now, they were on cleanup and body recovery detail.
“Come on, Xaandril,” Laarn muttered to himself, scanning bodies as he walked.
“Drag the enemy to the edge of the battlefield,” he ordered. “We’ll set a pyre before we go to make sure the predators don’t get to them.”
“More than they deserve,” Kriis, the warrior walking next to him, muttered. “Should leave them to get their eyes pecked out and eaten.”
“Yeah,” Laarn sighed. “I know. But that makes us no better than them and besides, this many bodies? It’ll stink the place up for the locals and foul their water supply. They might be no better than oonat, but they didn’t ask for this war, or what those assholes did to them. We have a responsibility to try and put things right, or at the least, not leave them fucked up.”
“Yeah, I see what you mean,” Kriis replied, but his expression was distracted. “Errr… Lord Healer, over here.” He broke into a run, sliding to his knees to shove a dead R’Zaa warrior to the side, revealing a male covered in blood. Laarn’s heart lurched as he recognized the pale, cropped hair.
The general.
His knees hit the dirt next to Xaandril a heartbeat after Kriis’, his experienced gaze sweeping the big warrior.
“Okay, we got multiple injuries… that arm is badly broken. Looks like a gut wound. Get some pressure on that,” he ordered, sticking his fingers into the guy’s throat. It was too slick with blood and mangled flesh for him to feel anything, so Laarn switched to his wrist and sighed with relief. Xaandril’s pulse flickered, weak but there.
“Okay, he’s still with us. Get some bots in here,” he ordered, snapping out a handheld diagnostic unit and sweeping it over the form of his fallen friend. It bleeped, churning out a list of near devastating injuries.
“Draanth, my friend,” Laarn breathed. “How you’re not dead, I do not know.”
Putting the diag-unit down by his thigh, he reached into his pack and snapped together some pressure-sprays, using combination medications that would hopefully hold the general’s condition as it was until Laarn could get him into surgery. Pulling the wounded man’s bracer away from his wrist, Laarn paused as he spotted the flash of a light blue ribbon. For a moment he smiled, flicking a glance up at the big man’s face to find Xaandril watching him, his eyes dark with pain.
“Don’t worry, my friend, I’ll get you back to her,” Laarn promised and pressed the spray to Xaandril’s wrist. He nodded a little and his eyes closed as the medication took effect.
Laarn stood up as the bots arrived. He carefully lifted the fallen warrior onto a stretcher and turned to the warrior next to him. Before he could speak though, laser fire sliced through the air.
“Take cover!” Laarn bellowed, his rifle off his back in an instant as he took a position in front of the bots loading Xaandril onto the stretcher. His keen gaze easily picked out the aggressors, hidden in a small copse nearby. Just warriors, not bots with them. “In the trees!” he shouted as the warriors with him all took cover and started firing back. The drakeen tank-bots lumbered into place, hunkering down on their six crab-like legs and using their bulk to protect the healers and their patient.
“Lord Healer!” One of the healers shouted, waving for him to take cover behind the safety of the bot wall but Laarn shook his head. These assholes had picked the wrong fight.
“Moving!” he shouted, not waiting for a confirmation as he broke cover and ran toward the trees. Laser bolts peppered the air around him, keeping the enemy’s head down as he dashed for cover again. His heart thrilled with the joy of battle as he crashed through the tree line, three warriors on his heels. A war cry broke from his lips as he slung the rifle on its strap over his back again and pulled the big blade from the sheath across his shoulders.
The enemy—R’Zaa warriors he realized as soon as he got a look at their faces—were on them in a hot-second. Half their number broke away from the firefight and raced toward Laarn and his group with blades drawn. He bared his teeth as battle was joined, his blade clashing against that of the first warrior to reach them. Blocking the blow, Laarn let the male’s blades slide down his to the guard and twisted, trapping his opponent’s blade. As he did, he lifted his free arm and slammed his elbow up and into the guy’s jaw.
Bone crunched under the blow, and the male staggered back, his blade falling from his hand as he grabbed for his shattered jaw. Lifting his blade, Laarn swung with brutal force, taking the R’Zaa’s head off at the shoulders. It bounced away, and he stepped over the falling body to meet the next warrior.
His blade rose and fell as he sliced and parried, cutting a swathe through the enemy. The fight was bloody and brutal, but within minutes he stood, blood dripping from his blade and the bodies of his enemies lying at his feet. His chest heaved as he sucked in air, and he was covered in blood as he turned around and found the small team that had followed him looking at him with a mix of awe and something near fear.
“Never make an enemy of a man who can dissect you in his sleep,” he commented in a low voice, leaning down to wipe his bloody blade on one of the men he’d killed.
“Pick up the rest of the wounded and survivors,” he ordered as he emerged from the copse and approached the rest of his men. Turning, he strode after the
bots carrying Xaandril toward the waiting shuttle. “And get everyone off the planet’s surface before the predators come out at nightfall.”
“Yes, my lord. Of course.” One of the younger warriors peeled away, setting about his task without argument. Laarn didn’t spare him a glance, his boots ringing out on the metal ramp as he boarded. Watching the bots lock Xaandril’s bio-stretcher down, he patched his comms into the war group through the shuttle’s array and opened a channel.
“This is the lord healer. I have the general. He’s badly injured but alive. Prep the main surgery bay for our arrival and have healer teams standing by for my orders.”
9
Even though she’d been checked out and the medical AI had said her condition would ease, a few days later Jess was feeling no better. In fact, she was feeling decidedly worse. The feelings of stomach discomfort had increased to actual nausea and she felt hot all over, the kind of clammy hot all over that didn’t bode well.
Groaning, she turned on her side and looked toward the door of her bedroom. She’d returned to lie down after lunch, but the nap hadn’t done her any good. Instead, now she was seriously worried. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong. She needed to go to the medbay.
Her entire body ached as she pulled herself to the edge of the bed. The effort made her light-headed, shivers running over her skin as she made her way to the door. The room spun around her, the walls moving as she made her way through the main room of the women’s quarters and into the corridor beyond.
“Lady Jessica! I was hoping to see you,” a familiar deep voice sounded behind her.
Spinning on her heel, Jess overshot and stumbled… right into Saal’s arms. His eyes widened in surprise and for a second heat flared in his eyes.
“I’ve wanted to get you in my arms for weeks,” he murmured, his voice husky and seductive, but almost instantly he frowned. Lifting a hand, he pressed it to her forehead. “Gods, Jessica… you’re burning up.”
“Medbay,” she pleaded, her fingers curled in the edges of his jacket. “I don’t feel well. Please, Saal.”
“For you, my love, anything.”
She didn’t argue over his endearment as he swept her up in his arms, too busy trying not to be sick, and she closed her eyes as he carried her through the corridors. His frame was big, warm and reassuring and she relaxed, knowing that she was safe with him. For the moment anyway. Even though he’d eased off trying to claim her since he’d rescued her from the purist guard, she was under no illusions that he had forgotten about it. It was only a matter of time before he tried his luck again. She couldn’t think of that at the moment, though, not when her skin felt like it was burning off and her lunch was likely to make another appearance.
“Almost there,” he said in a low voice, his breathing not even labored as he hurried through the palace with long strides. “Open up,” he ordered, his voice pitched to carry. “Lady Jessica needs a healer. Now!”
She heard rather than saw the bustle of medbay around them, still clinging to Saal to stop the awful spinning in her head. He murmured soothingly as he bent to lay her down on a soft surface. Risking a small peak, she found she was in the main bay, healers bustling around them and a steely-faced Daaynal watching them both. She didn’t miss the icy expression in his eyes. Shit, he was Laarn’s uncle as well. If he thought she was cheating on his nephew… she’d be pissed as well if she were him.
“I felt ill,” she explained as the diagnostic bed started up, the arch forming over her in a swirl of interlacing beams. “He found me in the corridor and brought me here.”
Daaynal nodded, transferring his attention to the healers clustered around her. “What’s wrong with her? Find out. Now!”
Jess relaxed back against the padded mattress with a sigh. Whatever it was, the computers would figure it out, and hopefully give her something. She shuddered violently as a wave of heat, and then cold washed over her, not listening to the voices and bleeps and beeps of the machine anymore. It all merged into one as she slipped into semi-consciousness.
“She’s pregnant?” Daaynal’s stunned voice brought her out of her doze to find the big emperor staring at the healers. Then he turned an accusing glare on Saal. The warrior looked surprised for a moment, and she caught the flash of fury in his eyes before he blinked and covered it, adding a quick, fake smile.
“I’m what?” she asked, but her stomach rebelled and she rolled to her side and puked into the bucket one of the healers held out quickly for her.
“We are blessed,” she heard Saal saying, as he patted her calf. “We weren’t sure but had hoped…”
Nononono. She tried to shake her head as savage heaves racked her frame, her body purging itself of everything she’d eaten in the last couple of hours, but she couldn’t do anything until she’d finished throwing up. A healer gave her a damp cloth and helped her rinse her mouth out before she collapsed weakly back on the bed, her head and shoulders now raised comfortably, to find Saal and Daaynal locked in a battle of wills, steely expressions on both men’s faces.
“I claim the Terran, Lady Jessica…” Saal was saying through gritted teeth. “She’s carrying my child, so she belongs to me.”
Carrying his child… she was pregnant.
“I can’t be,” she said, her words dropping like a ton weight into the charged silence of the room. “I’ve never slept with him, nor has he claimed me. I mean, he’s tried, but—”
“I’m claiming her now,” the big warrior insisted. “And I have bedded her. How else is she with child?”
“Lady Jessica?” Daaynal turned toward her, his eyebrow raised. The frosty expression was still on his face but had thawed a little. He wanted to believe her… that much was evident.
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I haven’t had sex with anyone since I left Earth months ago…”
“Lies!” Saal exclaimed, only to be cut off as the double doors to the medbay swept open.
“He’s the one lying,” Kenna announced as she swept into the room. “She’s been avoiding him because she’s worried he’ll claim her and she wants Laarn to.”
“Kenna!” Jess hissed, panic rising along with the bile in her stomach. Quickly she grabbed the fresh bucket a healer held out for her.
“Oh, shut it,” the marine ordered in a no-nonsense voice. “You want to be tied to a man you don’t want? I got this.”
She turned her attention to the two men in the center of the room, her hand not resting on the grip of the pistol at her hip but relaxed beside it. The kind of relaxed that said she could have the thing in hand and firing within a heartbeat. “No one is claiming anyone today. My girl Mary here just got the shock of a lifetime, so let’s all back the fuck down and sort out what the hell is going on, shall we?”
Daaynal frowned. “Mary? I thought her name was Jessica.”
“It is. It comes from—” Kenna shook her head, her expression bringing an exhausted smile to Jess’ lips. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. Jess, how are you feeling?”
“Like I just got out of high-g training after a three-day bender on Tarinat-four,” she grumbled, naming one of the rough and ready outpost stations in the Sol Sector. She transferred her attention to Daaynal. “I have not slept with Saal,” she declared firmly. “And I am definitely not pregnant by him. I shouldn’t be pregnant at all. Are you sure?” she demanded of the healer hovering by her.
He nodded, pulling up a display in front of him and tapping through data she couldn’t read until he found the one he wanted. Turning it, he showed her the screen. “See these levels here and here? The scans all indicate a viable pregnancy in the very early stages. I would say no more than two weeks.”
“You can tell that early?” She blinked in surprise, looking up at him. While she’d seen him in the main medbay a lot, she didn’t recognize what clan he was from. Definitely not a K’Vass that was for sure. He had high cheekbones and an almost exotic look that she’d never seen before.
“Of course,” he replied. “O
ur technology is far more advanced than yours. We can tell from the moment of conception. Even check the child’s DNA and extrapolate what it will look like.”
Oh my. She just looked at him, unable to take it all in. “So I really am pregnant? Can you…” Shit, this was going to sound so bad. “Can you tell who the father is?”
The healer blinked. “You don’t know?”
“Everyone OUT!” Daaynal ordered, his loud, commanding growl causing healers and warriors alike to scatter, heading for the double doors at the front of the room. “Even you, Saal. Now!”
The big warrior grumbled, looking toward Jess, but she ignored him. Her attention was fixed on the healer, who suddenly looked very nervous. Flicking a glance between the two women, and the emperor, he cleared his throat. While Laarn was away, he was obviously the lead healer, as his scars attested to. They weren’t as numerous or as vicious as Laarn’s, but certainly more plentiful than the other healers she’d seen in here.
“No,” she repeated. “Since I’ve not slept with a man since I left Earth, I don’t know who the father is.”
Her hands crept down to cover her stomach in wonder as she spoke. Could it be true? Was she really pregnant, and… how?
The healer frowned. “What does sleeping have to do with procreation?”
Daaynal rumbled in the back of his throat, half a growl and half clearing it. “It’s a Terran phrase. It means she hasn’t had sex with a male.”
“But…” Surprise flowed over his face. “She must have, more than that, she must have had sex with a Lathar warrior…”
“Oh?” Daaynal’s gaze sharpened as Jess spluttered. “I can assure you I have not!”
“Well, she must have. I can see the human genetic information, but the father was definitely Lathar—”
“Who? What family?” Daaynal demanded, his expression sharp. Jess thought the healer would have a heart attack on the spot, the tension in his frame was so complete as he studied the readings on the screen.