Hearts of Ishira (Hearts of Ishira Saga)

by Bethany Aan

  CHAPTER TWO

  The fight was over in minutes.

  Once the warriors showed up with the experience of having dealt with each strange creature, the animals realized they were outclassed and scampered or lumbered back into the woods with whatever bounty they could snatch up as they went.

  Hunter, Commander of the Ishira Colony, called for the medics as his team leaders reported that the area was secure. His chest rose and fell heavily as he looked over the wide path, keen eyes taking in the carnage and assessing the needs of those he and his men had come to save. Bodies lay everywhere, too many of them. His heart ached at the loss of so many young beings.

  About twenty girls were still conscious, including the short blond that had been standing near the older woman with whom he’d connected mentally. He met the blonde’s gaze, trying to sense if she had any Reading abilities at all. She had a touch, but not enough to effectively communicate. Her intelligent eyes were locked with his, the need to make herself understood nearly overwhelming her. He couldn’t get more than a basic concept from her untrained mind, but he knew without his Reader abilities that she needed reassurance. He didn’t need psychic powers to understand that.

  He offered her a gentle smile and placed his hand over his heart, bowing slightly to show deference. At the gesture, she swallowed her fears, straightened her naked shoulders, and nodded once in return before moving to help some of the wounded nearby.

  Following her progress, Hunter saw that his brother Jace, chief medical officer of the colony, was already working on the most traumatically injured. Every other trained medic was already moving to help those that could be helped without a fight. The non-medics attempted to gather the rest of the women into one group near the injured. The indigenous creatures could return if they found a straggler away from protection. Hunter had already given orders that every living crash victim was to be corralled into one mass so they could all be treated quickly and efficiently.

  Speaking of the wounded… Hunter needed to get the woman at his feet back to consciousness so that she could help him communicate with her companions. The thunder storm above was intensifying. The lightning that had brought down their ship seemed to have passed, thank the gods, but according to the weather station updating in his ear, there was torrential rain moving into the area. More lightning and thunder would follow the deluge, along with gusts that would fell trees. He needed to get these women to the compound before downed trees and the spring downpour made the road all but impassable.

  Kneeling at her side, Hunter brushed strings of wet, muddy hair from her face. He winced at her pallor, the bruising and swelling on her face, the numerous cuts and abrasions on her arms, legs, and back. She was curled up, her arms covering her breasts, but he could tell she’d been in immense pain before she’d succumbed to the darkness. And no wonder, with her leg broken as it was. Bruising along her right side suggested broken ribs. What an amazing little thing, to have stood on one leg and battled the ravenous nyaks with only a stick as a weapon.

  Remembering the way she’d moved, how her body had shifted to adjust to her injuries, Hunter had to wonder at the warrior training she had obviously received. She had to have extensive training to be able to combat the agony and energy loss enough to defend herself and her friends in her condition. As though she heard his thoughts, a soft whimper escaped her throat. Her eyes fluttered a few times before she sank back into unconsciousness.

  Worry furrowed his brow as he rested his big hand lightly on her small shoulder, sending as much healing warmth and energy as he could into her cold, battered form. Her body accepted the offering as though it knew it needed the help. He blinked at that, startled by the strength of the draw upon his deep energy reserves. Intrigued even more than before, he searched through the churning throng, seeking his brother’s familiar form.

  “Jace!” he called out. The lead medic held up a bloody hand in acknowledgment before giving orders to the warriors kneeling in teams around the injured and unconscious.

  Hunter watched in satisfaction as compact tubes were brought out. Activated, the tubes separated, allowing the medics to pull them apart, revealing the thin film that would support injured bodies. The stretchers were carefully slipped beneath the women. The solution between filmy fabric layers allowed the surface of the stretcher to conform to whatever position the girls were in already or supported their bodies as the medics determined limbs that needed to be elevated for travel. With all the trauma, some of the women needed to be completely immobilized before they were transported. Portions of the stretcher’s surface were pulled out into straps then positioned to hold the women in place for their journey back to the colony. Hunter nodded in satisfaction at the efficiency of his men.

  Jace strode to Hunter’s side, scowling.

  “Report,” Hunter ordered.

  “I’ve got to get the injured back to the med center immediately,” Jace said, shaking his head. “Some of them are critical. Others could have infections already. The sooner we cleanse their systems, the better chance they have of fighting off any indigenous pathogens.”

  Hunter nodded at the terse tone. Normally, no one would speak to him in that tone, but now that the main threat to the women had been taken care of, Jace was temporarily in charge. Hunter was there to ensure the doctor’s orders were followed.

  “Do what you have to, but scan this one first,” Hunter growled.

  Jace didn’t blink or question the command. He simply knelt beside the small woman and went to work on her. A brief hover over her body with his med-scanner brought a frown to his face. He looked to Hunter for assistance and within moments she was gently arranged on a stretcher, her broken leg elevated by the stretcher’s inflation system. Jace pressed a vitals strip to her neck, took a moment to read the results then shrugged at Hunter and got to his feet.

  “She’s not dying anytime soon, Commander, as far as I can tell. I’m not positive what ‘normal’ readings are for their species,” Jace said to ease Hunter’s scowl. “But that leg needs to be braced before we move her. And she needs to move as little as possible until I can do a more thorough scan back at home. There are others-”

  “Go. But come back to her as soon as you can,” Hunter muttered. He threw his brother a meaningful glance. “I think she’s their Reader.”

  Jace’s eyes widened in awe and respect as he nodded his understanding. He shook out a trauma blanket and placed it over her naked body. But then he stilled, his eyes softening as they lingered on her face for another moment before he hurried away in response to a call from one of his medics.

  Hunter was heartened when he felt his brother’s interest in the small female. If he was Reading his brother correctly, they were in agreement, both of them wanting to get to know the tiny woman much better. But that thought passed quickly, the physician’s brain already concocting a transport plan to accommodate so many wounded with the riders available.

  The commander cursed softly beneath his breath, crunching the numbers. What they both really wanted was to have one of their shuttles running. The transports could move up to twenty women at once, more if some of the females were capable of standing for a short time. But the shuttles, like so many other systems and vehicles on the battalion ship, had been too damaged in the same storm that had incapacitated the ship itself, stranding them on this planet ten years ago.

  Ten years. Ten long, lonely, woman-less years. Ten years without hope of companionship of the gentle variety, without hope of procreation or colonization. He had been operating the compound on the assumption that they would remain a male-only colony for the foreseeable future, so he had kept everything temporary and close to the compound, using renewable resources and impacting the environment as little as possible. But with humanoid females suddenly in their midst… He shook his head, frustrated with himself for even thinking such a thing while the women needed help. Even if the women consented to mating, there was no guarantee that the two species were compatible for reproduction.
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br />   Rain began falling harder before he could get lost down the spiral of memories that had led to their marooning on this world and the what-ifs that came with the women.Shaking himself back to attention, Hunter cataloged what needed to be done next. He wished the rain would hold off long enough to search the wreckage for a communications packet, but the immediate mission was to secure the living and get them to shelter and medical facilities. Besides, the woman he sheltered was a Reader. Once she was awake again, he could use her to talk to the group.

  With the rain pounding harder down the path toward their group, Hunter tapped a button on the stretcher’s top beam, activating handles that shot out of the ends of the tubes. Summoning one of his men to his side, they lifted the woman and took her away from the bulk of the group, where she was in less danger of being trampled by her traumatized companions. Too many of the girls had shifted their panic to the very men that were brought to save them. The girls endeavored to get away while keeping their companions in sight, which resulted in a lot of childish circling and darting, ducking under the long arms of the warriors that were trying to corral them. The shrieks of fear and indignation when they were caught threatened to pierce his ear-drums. He’d forgotten how shrill the young could be.

  Hunter sighed. He’d sensed enough of the group’s emotions to know that these poor women had been directed to run, to hide, to fight him and his soldiers. Not by the woman he’d connected with, but by someone else. He wondered where they were from that their diplomacy with another species was so poor.

  “Trey!” he called to his second lieutenant, who looked up from the girl he was helping up from a pile of bodies. The girl was terrified, but allowed him to help her. Hunter’s heart nearly broke for the poor thing. Her lower leg had a chunk of flesh taken from it, but she refused to leave the side of one of the other girls that he sensed was a close relative, perhaps a sister. He had to admire that kind of courage and loyalty. Focusing on Trey, he said, “When you get a chance, I want neuro-translators in every one of these girls.”

  “Aye sir,” Trey acknowledged. Once the girl was seated away from the other bodies but still within reach of her sister, he hurried to his saddle and dug through the attached bags and brought out several boxes as big as his palm. He hurried back to the group of unconscious women and made short work of injecting the tiny neuro-translators behind their ears.

  Satisfied that Trey was doing his job, Hunter turned back to the Reader.

  “Wake up, little warrior,” Hunter murmured, reaching down to stroke the filthy, bruised cheek of the woman he’d ‘talked’ to with his mind. His hand jerked away as he sensed sudden movement behind him. Hunter whirled into a crouch, his sword up and ready, but the blond woman from before held her hands up to show she meant no harm, shaking her head frantically. She watched him warily, her eyes darting from him to her friend, speaking to him urgently in her language, ending with a lilt at the end that he took to mean she’d asked a question. He lowered the sword, sensing that all she wanted was to make sure her friend was all right. He nodded slowly, allowed her to see the small, curvy brunette he was protecting. She sighed and smiled tremulously in thanks then hurried away to drop beside one of the injured girls, intent on helping where she could.

  He watched her go thoughtfully then called for Trey once more. His man came over immediately and Hunter pointed out the blond.

  “I think that one might be the first conscious female to allow the neuro-translator. She doesn’t seem to be afraid of us.” Hunter said. “Work your charm and see if she will let you inject it. Perhaps she can help calm the others once they see that no harm will come to them.”

  “Aye, sir,” Trey said, following Hunter’s nod. His eyes widened when they lit on the young woman’s lush, bare hips and back. Hunter rolled his eyes at the enthusiasm in his cousin’s voice. “With pleasure!”

  Ri awoke to that horrible thundering in her head and the whomp-whomp-whomp in her ears once more. Moaning softly, she blinked her eyes open. She was lying face-up, staring up at the teal-colored foliage of the trees lining the path. With disturbing noises surrounding her, she rolled her head to the left a bit before something hard stopped her and found herself facing the hooves of a very odd beast. Ri’s head felt like the beast had been stomping on it, and for all she knew, it had. She had never seen anything like it. Or had she? Her head throbbed harder with the effort to remember.

  Nearby, leather-looking boots covered feet that could probably qualify as skis and led to long, leather-clad legs that strode quickly through the mud. Screams and cries surrounded her, though the sounds were muffled by the blood rushing through her ears. She repeated her mantra, battling the gray fog that kept tugging insistently at her consciousness. She squinted against the painful light of day as several sets of bare human legs and female feet ran around the beast.

  As though stimulated by the darting girl, the beast turned on its hind legs and ran after the last set of feet that had passed. The boots followed, lunging into a sprint. There was a masculine shout, a feminine scream, then a thud. Arianna squinched her eyes closed, not wanting to know what happened to the fleeing woman. Tears of frustration threatened as she fought her way back to awareness. She was so woozy that she wanted to throw up, but she felt the incredible compulsion to get up, to help the girls somehow. She gritted her teeth and dug into her brain, forcing herself to remember what had happened. The mantra was repeated several times before the whomping subsided enough for her to hear more than the loudest of sounds.

  Very close to her were deep male voices speaking a language she didn’t recognize, as well as the snorts and grunts of alien animals. Cries of hysterical women bounced through the clearing. The softer sobs and mumbling of the grief-stricken were a drone beneath the shrieks of the girls trying to escape.

  Compelled to help somehow, Arianna tried to push herself onto her elbows, but the effort sent agony exploding through her entire body. Her arms tangled in a blanket, stifling her movements as effectively as the pain. But with the brief glance around the clearing, memory suddenly washed in, images from the skirmish with the wolf-like creatures playing like a horror movie. Alien men on strange beasts thundering around a curve in the path, swords held high, snarls of battle rage twisting their faces as they joined the fight.

  One man in particular, fighting his way to stand over her, every ounce of his being focused on protecting Ri. Green eyes, burning into hers, a face set with grim resolve, huge sword in one hand…a sense of protection, safety… home.

  Then she’d passed out. The suspected concussion probably contributed to the momentary memory loss upon waking.

  Determined to find out what was happening now, she gritted her teeth, hissed with pain but managed to lift her head just enough to turn it to the other side.

  The girls from before were running all over the place, chased by rather large, cloaked men who were either on foot or riding those strange animals. The riding beasts had furred, segmented bodies, six legs, and long, curling tails, like a weird cross between an ant, a horse, and a tiger. Then there were the men… or whatever they were. Humanoid, but tall. So very tall. Perhaps nearly seven feet. Their faces, while almost human, had varying colors and patterns at the edges that matched then transitioned into their long hair. Their expressions were set in stony determination. The warriors seemed to be corralling all the women into one spot. Her brain chose that moment to short circuit and she wondered why the men were collecting the girls. What did they intend to do with the girls? With her?

  Green eyes, burning into hers, a face set with grim resolve, huge sword in one hand…a sense of protection, safety… home.

  The image hit her, tugging her memories back to the fore. Before she could place the image in her head, Arianna felt a hand on her shoulder. The contact seemed to chase all thought away, confusing her for a blinding moment. Against all reason, terror surged through her - terror of what these men wanted, confusion about what had happened to her, where she was. Momentarily forgetting that
she had been talking to one of the men telepathically, she cried out in fear.

  Panicked, she rolled away from the touch of the man, off the stretcher and right into a mud puddle. Her leg felt like it had been ripped off, but she fought with everything she had in her to get away.

  She’d managed to startle the alien male long enough to scuttle backwards on her hands and one foot, though pain ripped through her torso and her other leg dragged uselessly as she moved. The blanket pulled from her body, sucked away by the mud. She watched, her chest burning with short frantic breaths, as another girl was chased down, snatched up, and delivered into the ‘corral’ the men were forming with their tall, muscular bodies. The girls were trying to fight, but the men were simply too big, too muscular, too determined to keep them. There were far too many of the aliens for the girls to be able to escape. If he had to, one man was large and strong enough to easily hold one squirming, fighting woman, so the corral of bodies wasn’t even necessary.

  Arianna’s heart shot into her throat when she realized that, her injured brain struggling to gel memory with observation. Fear won out.

  Too many men, all surrounding her and those poor girls. Far too many to fight. Arianna was a survivor, but she was also a realist. Her terror fought with a soul-deep knowledge that the men wouldn’t hurt them. Losing the will to continue the battle, Ri finally met the eyes of the man who had touched her and memory came rushing back once more.

  He hadn’t moved, hadn’t tried to chase her. Instead, he watched her, his eyes darting to her leg as he held out a hand. He shook his head as though imploring her to stop, to stay still. Those eyes weren’t threatening, were instead wide with the urgent effort to communicate with her.

  Green eyes, burning into hers, a face set with grim resolve, huge sword in one hand…a sense of protection, safety… home.