by Regine Abel
“Take it down!”
Fear constricted my throat so tightly I couldn’t breathe. I looked to Amalia for reassurance but she was having another vision. Loud noises reached us as the guards broke through our barricade. Shortly thereafter, one of the guards cried out and the sound of battle echoed through the room.
“Don’t stun them! They need to walk on their own. We won’t be able to carry them!”
The commotion went on for a few more seconds in a cacophony of grunts and shouts, among which I recognized Lhor’s and Zhul’s voices. Then silence returned.
Please Goddess, don’t let them get hurt.
“Slaves, come out!” the Guldan leader shouted. “We have your males. Don’t make us hurt them.”
I cast a fearful glance towards Amalia, grateful she was out of her vision. She shook her head at me then leaned down to kiss her son. Tiptoeing, she approached me and gave my shoulder an encouraging squeeze.
“Be ready,” she mouthed silently at me.
She continued walking to the other side of the sliding door and pressed her back against the wall. Despite my fears, her calm confidence gave me strength.
“Spread out. Find the females and the babe!” the leader shouted.
I realized then that Amalia had known he bluffed when he threatened to hurt our males. Of course, damaging them would slow them down. V would have their heads if they left any of us behind. With Khel and the Tuureans hot on their trail, they wouldn’t make it if they had to carry us.
I pressed my back against the wall like Amalia. She raised her hand, palm facing me, fingers splayed. Then she folded her fingers, one by one.
Countdown.
One second after she folded the last digit, the door swished open. As soon as the dark silhouette appeared in the door frame, Amalia whipped her foot around and kicked the Guldan in the gut. He folded in two, his breath rushing out of him. Without thinking, I grabbed the back of his neck.
Sleep.
He collapsed on the floor without a sound. He wouldn’t wake for a few hours, however loud the battle around him would be.
“They’re in the back!”
Amalia gestured for me to come to her. I complied, terrified by the stampeding sound of the footsteps running towards us. A male appeared in the doorway and immediately aimed at the right side of the room where I had been standing moments ago. Amalia kicked him in the back, sending him careening into the wall. He smashed into it face first and fell to his knees, dazed.
Before I could reach for him, another male walked in, turning his blaster towards us. Amalia brought her elbows down on top of his outstretched arms, knocking the weapon out of his hands. I grabbed his throat and sent him to sleep.
An animalistic roar resonated near the entrance, sending cold shivers down my spine.
“Khel!” Amalia whispered, her face lighting up.
Out of nowhere, she brutally shoved me aside. I stumbled back, slapping my hand on the wall to keep from falling. Bewildered, I watched Amalia launch herself at the second Guldan to have come into the room. Before he could fully get back to his feet, she grabbed one of his horns and smashed his head against the wall. I winced at the meaty sound. He went limp and collapsed partially on top of his fallen comrades.
The clinking of swords and whizzing of blaster shots bounced around the room.
The metallic voice of the Tuurean leader rose above the chaos. “Surrender or die!”
My stomach dropped. He intimidated the shit out of me.
The noise died down until only the clashing of a single pair of swords could be heard.
“No! He’s mine!” the General’s voice shouted.
Amalia grabbed her son and walked out of the cell. I followed only to freeze at the sight before me. Two Guldans lay dead or unconscious. Ghil, his face battered and bleeding, knelt down next to another Guldan. Both were shackled and framed by a pair of Tuurean females. Sheb lay dead in a pool of his own blood. He appeared to have slit his own throat.
A dozen Xelixian warriors near the entrance formed a semi-circle around Khel and the male I assumed to be the Guldan leader. Opposite from them, two more Tuureans – one male, one female – stood on each side of the Admiral. They headed towards us while Ghan helped Lhor and Zhul back to their feet.
“No!” Amalia whispered, looking past the Tuureans at her mate engaged in combat.
She pressed her son against her chest, her face twisted with fear.
“Amalia,” the Admiral’s metallic voice said. To my shock, he raised an armored hand and gently cupped her face. “Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m… I’m…” losing her train of thoughts, she looked over his shoulder.
His head lowered, towards the unresponsive boy cradled in her arms.
“What’s wrong with him?” When Amalia didn’t respond, he looked back up at her. “Amalia, what’s wrong with Vahleryon?” he asked more forcefully.
“Why is he fighting?” Amalia asked. “He can’t! His lungs…”
“Khel’s fine,” the Admiral interrupted. “He’s wearing celesium armor. Now, please answer me.”
Stepping in, I gave him a quick rundown of what happened. Zhul, Lhor, and Ghan approached us as I spoke. Relief flooded me seeing both our mates having apparently suffered no more than a couple of bruises. Zhul looked at me, making sure I was fine as I finished recounting the events. He hugged me and kissed my forehead.
“Kamala,” the Admiral said.
Without further instructions required, one of the females beside him pulled a wand-like device from her belt and ran it over Vahl’s head. Although the device didn’t possess a display screen, Kamala seemed able to view its readings. I could only assume the data transferred to the digital interface inside her helmet’s visor.
“Goddess,” her synthetic voice whispered. “He’s too young for so much power.”
“Is he okay?” Lhor asked, wrapping his arms around Amalia.
“Yes,” Kalama replied. “He needs rest.”
I was relieved to have her confirm the previous diagnosis.
Reassured as to our welfare, our rescuers turned their eyes to the scene that kept Amalia both fascinated and terrified.
The two males swirled around each other in a flurry of swords. Their movement blurred before my eyes. The Guldan’s reinforced armor offered little protection against Khel’s celesium sword. Blood trickled from multiple cuts on his body.
In sharp contrast, Khel’s Tuurean armor looked intact. The black metal, as supple as leather, didn’t cover his face or hands. Even if it gave him an unfair defensive advantage compared to his opponent, skill-wise, the Guldan was no match for the General.
Each time he dodged one of Khel’s attacks, the celesium sword seemed to bite flesh seconds later. With an enraged cry, the Guldan charged him. The sole of Khel’s boot connected with his chest, knocking him back. The General swiped his sword upward and the Guldan’s cheek split open.
He’s toying with him.
“Turuuk…” Amalia whispered.
“What?” I asked.
“Turuuk Terk.” Jaw drawn in a hard line, Lhor said the name with contempt. “The assassin who killed Khel’s parents and younger brother.”
Zhul’s hand tightened around me. So this was the male who had performed so much of Varrek’s dirty work. The same male who so many believed had been hired by Zhul.
Khel slammed the pommel of his sword into Turuuk’s face. Blood exploded from the Guldan’s mouth and he wavered on his feet, looking dazed. He shook his head and wiped the blood from his chin with the back of his hand.
He gave Khel a tired look. His eyes held no fear, no plea for mercy – merely calm acceptance.
“Finish it, Xelixian.”
Khel stared at his opponent, hatred burning in his purple eyes. Closing the distance with the assassin, Khel raised his sword for the finishing blow when he suddenly doubled over. He wheezed and seemed to struggle for breath. Seizing this unexpected opportunity, Turuuk backhanded Khel, who stumbled backward.
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“Khel!” Amalia shouted, leaning forward in Lhor’s tight embrace.
The Guldan swiped his sword in an attempt to behead his opponent but the General, still wheezing, blocked the attack. The nanites of his celesium suit shifted around his neck and chest while he parried another strike from the Guldan. The wheezing stopped and Khel inhaled deeply. His breathing having returned to normal, the nanites of his armor settled down. He blocked another slash and, with a swirl of his wrist, disarmed his opponent. Before Turuuk could react, the General buried his sword in the assassin’s gut. His victim froze, mouth gaping, eyes bulging.
“This is for my brother,” Khel hissed in the assassin’s face.
He pulled the sword out and stabbed him once again in the stomach.
“This is for my father.”
The Guldan fell to his knees before Khel.
“And this is for my mother,” Khel said, beheading the assassin with a powerful swipe of his sword.
He stood over the lifeless corpse, breathing heavily.
“Khel!” Amalia called out.
His head snapped towards her. The murderous rage on his features melted, morphing into an expression of pure love and adoration. My breath caught in my throat as he dropped his sword and marched towards Amalia. She moved as well, meeting him halfway. He cupped her face with incredible care as if he feared to break her.
“My heart,” he breathed out, his voice trembling slightly. “My beloved mate.”
He pulled her into his arms, careful not to squish their son between them. They exchanged a soft, tender kiss before resting their foreheads against one another. Lhor joined them and Khel turned to look at him with an affectionate smile.
“My Gem.”
Amalia and Khel pulled Lhor into their embrace and they held each other in silence. Moved by this loving portrait, I looked up at Zhul. Sensing my eyes on him, he pulled his gaze away from the Praghans and turned it towards me.
“I love you,” I said, my eyes flicking between his.
He smiled. “I adore you.”
He kissed me. Oblivious of the Tuureans and Xelixian army surrounding us, I gave into the feeling of the moment.
Someone clearing his throat snapped us out of it.
“If you’re all done being cute and cuddly,” Ghan said, “maybe we can get out of here.”
Lhor chuckled. “Always the bully, aren’t you?”
Ghan leveled him with a disdainful gaze. “Better than you, always getting beaten by tiny little girls.”
Wait, what?
“I didn’t get beaten by any girl.”
“Really? You two got spanked,” Ghan said looking at Lhor and Zhul, “but the girls knocked out three Guldans. You guys suck.”
Amalia snorted. Lhor gave her an offended look. I couldn’t resist giggling as well, which Zhul didn’t seem to appreciate. Every Tuurean – males included – turned their masked faces towards Ghan. A synthetic cough-like sound reached my ears.
Do Tuureans laugh?
“They don’t suck,” Amalia said, giving Lhor a gentle kiss on the cheek. “We just kick ass.”
I puffed my chest in pride, pleasantly surprised by the light banter between them. Nothing about the fearsome behemoth of a First Officer ever hinted at a sense of humor.
He gave Amalia’s comment a haughty sniff. I heard Lhor mumble something about us having abilities.
Ghan gave him a once-over. “Nice dress, by the way.”
“Fuck off,” Lhor muttered, under his mate’s and Gem’s laughter.
Zhul gave his own tunic a pained look and tugged in vain at the hem to lower it. That made me laugh out loud.
Ghan's lips stretched in a barely-there smirk as he walked past us towards the last cell where our victims were piled up. A handful of warriors followed in his wake.
“Not funny,” Zhul said.
“Very funny.” I rubbed my nose against his before kissing his lips.
A commotion in the back cell snapped us out of our tender moment. The Guldan Amalia knocked out but that I didn’t put to sleep had come back around.
“Die, Xelixians!” he shouted.
I couldn’t see what was happening with so many warriors taking him down. A violent explosion shook the walls, debris flying in every direction. The reinforced door dropped down, sealing us inside the room again. The feminine robotic voice that used to tell Zhul and me to upload our blood samples resonated through the intercom.
“Self-destruct sequence initiated. Time until explosion, T minus twenty minutes.”
Oh shit.
“Amalia,” Khel said, pulling the baby from her arms.
“I need these off!” she said, waving her gloved hands.
One of the Tuurean females pulled the remote from Ghil and unlocked the gloves. Amalia ripped them off and ran to the control panel by the wall. She slapped her palm on it and tried to override the command. Another violent explosion rocked the room, nearly making me fall.
“Hacking attempt detected,” the system said. “Accelerating self-destruct sequence. Time until explosion, T minus five minutes.”
Oh Goddess!
“Fuck,” Admiral Lee muttered.
The swear word spoken with his hollow, metallic voice made it even more disturbing.
Lee ran to the reinforced door and placed both his palms against it. The armor around his gloves blurred, the nanites reshaping them into a disk around his splayed hands. The Admiral slid his hands sideways as if opening sliding doors. A seam appeared in the reinforced wall, which parted like a vertical gaping mouth.
“What the fuck…” Zhul murmured.
No wonder they got through the labs’ defenses so quickly. They didn’t need to hack each door, they literally just walked through them. But now wasn’t the time to dwell on this. We raced for the exit, urged on by the warriors and the Tuureans. To my surprise, they even helped Ghil and the conscious Guldan. Although they didn’t deserve my sympathy, I couldn’t help thinking of the two Guldans I had put to sleep who, therefore, wouldn’t make it out.
Arms and legs pumping, I ran down the long corridor to the lift. My lungs burned as I jumped through the gaping openings the Admiral’s technology had left through the reinforced doors along the way. Ahead of us, Amalia entered the lift with Lhor and a few Tuureans.
We won’t fit.
There were too many of us and I doubted there would be time for a second trip down before everything blew up. We reached the lift as Khel placed the baby in Amalia’s arm.
“Khel, no!” Amalia shouted. “Stay with us!”
Powerful hands shoved Zhul and me inside the lift.
I turned to see it had been Ghan. He now faced Khel.
“Get in, General.”
“Ghan…”
“Don’t fucking argue, Khel. There’s no time. A civilian’s life depends on you getting in.”
Khel looked over his shoulder at Lhor before facing Ghan. He placed his hand on his First Officer’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze.
“You get your ass out. That’s an order,” Khel said.
Ghan gave him a stiff nod and Khel entered the lift. Tears drenched Amalia’s cheeks as she looked at the giant.
“I love you, big brother,” she said.
He winked at her.
“Kamala, get in!” the Admiral said to the last Tuurean female still not inside the lift.
“Lee…”
“GET IN!” he shouted.
She squeezed onto the platform.
Turning his back to us, the Admiral moved to the front of the males still outside the lift. He placed his hands on the metal plated floor and began reshaping it. The plates seem to melt into liquid steel before slowly rising before him into a protective wall. The Goddess willing – and assuming he managed to complete it – this would shield them from the blast while they waited for the lift to return.
“Time until explosion, T minus one minute.”
The lift began its ascent with fourteen adults and baby Vahl tightly huddle
d within. Thinking of the eight Xelixian warriors, Admiral Lee, and another male Tuurean left behind, I wondered why they had given two of the lift spots to Ghil and the remaining Guldan prisoner. Whatever information they could get from interrogating them didn’t seem worth the lives of two good males who could have taken those spots instead. And worse, they weren’t worth the lives of Ghan or the Tuurean military leader.
Although quick, the ascent was painful. The lift being a mere platform with no walls, whenever my skin rubbed against the fast-moving walls of the shaft, it burned. The thin coat of sweat on my skin didn’t help either. With so many people on the platform, it was nearly impossible to avoid it. Trying to catch my breath amidst multiple others also breathing heavily, I felt a little dizzy. I rested my forehead on Zhul’s shoulder and he whispered comforting words in my ear.
Thankfully, we travelled up the great distance from the underground facility in a matter of seconds. As soon as the platform reached the ground level of the orchard, the four warriors that accompanied us dragged the prisoners off the platform. The three Tuurean females rushed us towards one of the shuttles. No sooner were we all off than the platform flew back down the shaft.
As I raised my foot to step onto the shuttle’s ramp, a violent tremor knocked me off balance. Sharp pain exploded at my temple when the side of my face connected with the hard surface of the ramp. The ground heaved and sighed a tortured, rumbling moan.
“Valena!” Zhul shouted.
“Watch out for the trees!” a male voice I didn’t recognize yelled.
My vision blurred and painful electric shocks stung my eyes. Strong hands helped me up and a firm body pressed against mine.
Zhul.
“Come on, love,” he said, his voice full of urgency.
He half-dragged, half-carried me inside the shuttle. Colors faded around me while the pain in my eyes intensified. The screaming sound of metal grinding against metal rose above the brewing storm-like sound of the ground shifting and shuddering.
Zhul helped me into a seat on the shuttle and buckled me up.
“The lift is moving!” another voice shouted from outside the shuttle.
Please Goddess, keep them safe.
A stabbing pain in the back of my eyes mixed with an electric jolt tore a scream out of my throat. Warm liquid trickled down the side of my face.