“Are we expecting visitors?”
“When a general alarm sounds, we expect anything.” Kendril handed over a multi-pocketed vest. “Put anything you need in here in case we have to evacuate.”
“From a destroyer?”
“Quickly.”
Sandrea drew an oversized, long-sleeved shirt on over her stretch shirt, shoved a few necessities into the pockets of the vest, and shrugged it on.
“Right,” Kendril acknowledged into her communications pod, then turned to her. “We’re leaving.”
Sandrea stepped through the door straight into the hold of Lieutenant Graegen. He grasped her shoulder and hurried her down the eerily quiet corridor with Kendril following. At the lift Dovzshak, Ragnon, and Kiresel, all heavily armed and clad in body armour, joined them.
She forbore from asking questions and went where led. Concern for Eugen whirled through her thoughts despite the fact she was deeply upset with him. They ran onto a flight deck and scrambled aboard a shuttle. Eugen sat at the controls with Kulluk and a huge sigh of relief whispered from her lungs.
Graegen manoeuvred her into a seat and harnessed her in. “The Vega is preparing to engage two battle-class Bluthen cruisers who’ve managed to slip through our cordon,” he said. “We’ve been ordered to evacuate.”
“Cruisers? Aren’t they more heavily armed than destroyers?”
Graegen’s eyes met hers for a second before he secured himself in an adjacent seat.
“Yes, but don’t worry. The crew of the Vega are well seasoned and this ship has teeth.”
“Where’s Drengel?”
“He’ll be required here.”
She pulled in a sharp breath. Of course he would. And she didn’t much care for the reason.
“Captain Mfumger is altering course for the closest planetary system,” Graegen said. “When the bulk of the planet is between us and the Bluthen, we will launch.”
“What’s this planet like?”
“That’s the bad news.”
“Oh? There’s bad news?”
“Yes, it’s cold.” A shudder rippled through Graegen. “Very cold.”
There were parts of that shuttle ride that Sandrea retained no memory of and parts she recalled with uncomfortable clarity. She could still hear Kulluk’s calm assessment, “It appears we were anticipated, General,” as their craft entered the atmosphere of the planet and the computer identified Bluthen attack fighters.
Eugen’s composed response of, “Let’s see if they anticipated this,” as he touched the control panel.
Then the sergeant’s satisfied reply a few moments later of, “Apparently not.”
She remembered the way her spine compressed into the seat as Eugen steered the craft in a sharp manoeuvre up and around and the inertia dampeners scrambled to compensate. Then there was the view through the forward screen as two Bluthen fighters headed directly towards them.
At that point she’d squeezed her eyes shut and gripped the arms of her seat so tight her fingers still held the imprint. When the shuttle pitched to a strike, cold terror froze her nerves. Dread compounded it when a thunk resounded on the hull.
“Limpet tracer,” Kulluk had muttered with disgust, and Eugen ordered that hull panel jettisoned. A violent explosion lurched the craft and Sandrea’s stomach reacted with proportionate fear. There ensued a string of orders from Eugen and responses from Kulluk regarding damage and their inability for sustained flight.
The remainder of the Bluthen must have been destroyed or defeated before Eugen piloted the shuttle across the terminator into pre-dawn twilight and they were forced to land. Now they strove to put as much distance between themselves and the downed shuttle before more Bluthen homed in on the disabled craft.
“How are you coping?” Kendril asked as they jogged to a halt for a short rest on their way across a sparse plain toward a tree-shrouded mountain range.
Sandrea flopped to the ground breathing deep and rubbed a hand over the back of her neck. Short, sharp pain speared into her nape. She winced, then eased her fingers around the small device Kendril had placed there to disguise her bio-signature from enemy surveillance.
“Apart from being scared to death I’m hunky dory.”
“We’ll be safe enough.”
The memory of the incapacitating terror she’d suffered at the hands of the Bluthen drifted like a soul-starved wraith through her spirit. Her stomach churned. She longed for the safe harbour of Eugen’s embrace, but his words and appalled expression after their lovemaking hung in her mind.
Besides, he’d managed to put all of Alpha Squad and Graegen between them.
Did he really think so little of our lovemaking?
The ache in her ankles from sprinting over uneven, rocky ground matched the ache in her heart. Her breath misted in the pearly light, and she wondered how the others coped with the cool temperature.
Mhartak assessed the surrounding landscape with his eyes. The remainder of his senses focused on Sandrea. She had placed herself on the far side of Alpha Squad, as far from him as possible and still remain part of the group.
That did not bode well.
‘Preserve the human woman at all costs.’ The direct order from the Alliance Grand Council had awaited him on the Vega. What information had they that prompted such a command? Something from the data snatched during the sortie to the Bluthen asteroid?
A grim smile twisted the corner of his mouth. Sandrea may never wish for his touch again, but he would continue to do his utmost to keep her safe. With or without orders. His inherent, protective instinct amplified a thousand fold when directed at her. Right now it snarled at his command training, urging him to forget all else, to throw her over his shoulder and run like hell for the hills.
He turned, captured Shrenkner and Dovzshak’s ready attention, then flicked his glance to Sandrea. They nodded their receipt of the silent order.
“Respite over, Lieutenant,” he ordered, and they were off and running again.
Daylight strengthened visibility as the group wound their way up a gentle slope through the huge, grey trunks of an open forest. Sandrea scrambled along between Dovzshak and Kendril. Through the light undergrowth, the remainder of the spread-out team climbed cautiously forward. The sporadic twitter and cheep of the local avian population scarcely broke the deep quiet of an ecosystem filled with silent life forms. In the vanguard, Kulluk moved with stealthy care over irregular, rocky protrusions and forest debris.
Sandrea’s muscles felt like they’d been climbing just this side of forever when Kulluk raised an abrupt fist. She halted. Before her, the crest of a fold in the land obscured her immediate view. Heavy silence muted the forest. No insect noise, no bird calls. Kendril clamped a hand on her shoulder as Dovzshak wrapped firm fingers around her upper arm. Kulluk signalled Kiresel and Ragnon forward.
Her eyes sought Eugen. Pressure from Kendril’s hand guided her into a crouch. Time stretched. Her ears and eyes strained to define the threat and she drew in a slow, deep breath. Nothing but the scent of forest and Angrigan infiltrated her flaring nostrils.
A sudden, cracking barrage of bolts of light peppered around them. Bark exploded off trees and earth fountained like miniature volcanic eruptions. The thudding crash of a heavy, incoming charge of bodies stampeding toward them reached her ears. Sandrea didn’t need Dovzshak and Kendril’s urging to run. She legged it in the opposite direction so fast they had trouble keeping up.
Legs pumping, heart thundering, she dodged around trunks and scrambled over slippery shale. Someone fired a shot past her at a Bluthen who leapt in her path. She shortened her stride, jumped over the fallen figure, and kept running. Another Bluthen charged from her right, arms grasping. She thrust out her arm, elbow locked, and slammed her palm into his jaw. Impact recoiled down her arm and bounced her backwa
rds. Her balance spun away and she fell with a thump to her backside. Feet pounded toward her. She scrambled backwards and swung her gaze up to locate her attacker. Dovzshak sideswiped him like a freight train ramming a car stalled at a level crossing.
She twisted her head in a frantic semi-circle, hunting for Eugen. He charged toward her through the lush undergrowth, tracked by lightning bursts of crossfire. The variegated dark green of enemy uniforms seemed everywhere. Fear clamped her heart then squeezed with merciless strength.
“Run!” Kendril bellowed.
With a closed fist, Eugen backhanded a Bluthen then speared a dark glare at her across the twenty or so paces that separated them.
“Move!” he roared.
She leapt to her feet and hurtled off through the trees. Fear crawled through her gut and poured adrenalin, in burning, driving waves, through her muscles. The branch-breaking, flesh-on-flesh fracas of close combat spurred her on. She jumped over the gouged-out channel of a rill and bounded uphill. The snapping crash of numerous bodies hurtling through underbrush urged every tendon and sinew to strain and push harder.
A branch caught her foot. She stumbled and half fell. Eugen’s hand wrapped around her upper arm and kept her upright. A growl and a grunt dragged her glance back. Kendril and a couple of Bluthen went down in a jumble of flailing arms and legs.
“Shrenk’!”
“Keep moving,” Eugen barked and dragged her onward. “Corporal Shrenkner can take care of herself.”
Her eyes flicked back to Kendril, saw her elbow one of the Bluthen in the jaw then slam her knee into the other’s chin. Sandrea turned her focus forward and ran. They crested the rise and scrambled down the far side. Blue sky dominated through thinning trunks. A Bluthen lunged for her from behind a tree. She screamed and darted from his reaching grasp. Eugen sprang forward, deflected the weapon swung on him, and smashed a fist into the enemy’s gut. She skipped backwards, heart thudding. Eugen bound the struggling soldier to his chest with one long, strong arm.
“Do not stop!” he thundered at her.
She hesitated. “But—”
“Go!”
Her terrified gaze flicked to more Bluthen homing in on their position. Kiresel and Kulluk appeared at the top of the rise and sprinted toward them. A knife in Eugen’s hand flashed bright. Heart pounding, she whirled and ran. Sunlight intensified, then the trees came to a sudden end.
She hauled air into her burning lungs and pelted from the forest, out over huge slabs of rock. The gush of rushing water filtered to her ears. She scrabbled over clumps of uneven boulders towards the sound and came to the edge of a wide, turbulent river. She halted then looked back, eyes scanning frantically for Eugen or any friendly face.
Strong Bluthen scent infiltrated her nostrils. Shadows moved on the rocks. She glanced up and terror punched her heart at the sight of her enemy. A yelp leapt from her throat and she jumped into the river.
Mhartak wrenched the chin of a Bluthen soldier sideways. Ligaments popped, bone snapped. He dropped the body and speared his gaze through the trees toward the rocks Sandrea had fled into. Bluthen soldiers overran the area. Fury blazed alongside his ferocious need to protect her.
He raised his weapon and fired. Kulluk drew to his side and added to the assault. Particle beams erupted out from the forest to their right as the rest of the squad opened fire. Enemy soldiers tumbled from the boulders. More swarmed to take their place while others took up defensive positions and returned fire. Anger snarled through his blood at the danger menacing his woman. He launched himself through the haze of energy bolts and charged toward her position.
With a dull thwop-thwop-thwop his armour absorbed a continuous succession of hits. A staccato beeping warned of its nearing limit. He hurtled into the cover of the boulders, ripped a pulse grenade from his vest, and lobbed it high. An explosion thundered above as a chain of peripheral shockwaves rippled through his body.
“Mhartak, get your ass back here!”
He stilled. Had his aural functions been affected by the proximity of the blast? No one spoke to him in that manner. Unless . . . An unnatural silence blanketed the area. He cocked his head to one side and listened. His armour beeped its return to full strength.
“Mhartak, move your sorry carcass!”
He glared back to the forest. A gan dressed in agricultural clothes with a familiar cast to his stance cradled a powerful rifle. Disbelief narrowed his eyes.
Surely not.
Amidst a fresh hail of enemy fire, the civilian hefted the weapon.
T’Hargen?
Alarm clanged a harsh warning through his mind. The ion wave emission gun his brother held would mulch any unprotected organ within its range.
“No!” he roared and launched himself towards the forest. Too late.
Fallen leaves whirled toward him on the leading edge of a percussion surge. The ion wave slammed into him, wrenching him from the ground and flinging him back. His armour alarm shrieked imminent overload and his armour failed to absorb the savage impact of unyielding rock. Brutal force hammered the breath from his lungs and almost snatched thought from his mind.
He shook the daze from his wits and staggered to his feet. Desperation and anger seethed through him, and he hurtled into the rocks.
Stupid son-of-a-demented-laraxdon.
“Sandrea!”
Moans drifted on a soft breeze and Bluthen bodies littered the rocks. Blood oozed from their eyes, ears, and noses. His ruthless hands tossed corpses and injured aside.
“Sandrea!”
Kulluk and Shrenkner sprang over the boulders, their horrified gazes sweeping across the carnage. A massive presence loomed beside him.
“Well, it’s nice to see you, too,” a familiar voice muttered.
Control snapped and Mhartak struck, gripped his long-lost, beloved brother by the throat and struggled not to throttle him.
Chapter 9
Check (Mate)
The drop to the water was greater than Sandrea expected.
Violent impact with the river drove her body beneath the surface. Rushing, raging water enclosed her, pummelling and blinding her, propelling her along in a chaotic tumble. Muffled, ferocious noise filled her ears. Up, down, and sideways became indistinguishable. Panic clamoured at her senses and she summoned every ounce of willpower to enforce calm. She conformed her body to accept the frenzied, unrelenting flow and concentrated on what her body told her.
Come on! Come on! Which way is up?
She swept her arms out and down. Her clothes dragged against her movements and her lungs burned acidic. One of her hands broke the surface and every survival instinct she possessed impelled her up. She gulped air, found her bearings, twisted, and looked back. Bluthen soldiers followed her into the rushing water.
Shit! Hope the bastards aren’t strong swimmers.
Frantically she scanned the banks as the river rushed her away. Her gut wrenched.
Eugen? Alpha?
Water slapped her face and buffeted her body. She submitted to the overpowering torrent, whirled, and swam with the force of the river.
Several litres of inadvertently gulped water and a stomach-turning while later, Sandrea dragged her aching body ashore at a peaceful, pebble-covered beach where the river widened and the land gentled. She stared hard at the near woods while her deprived lungs heaved in a desperate chase for breath. The now docile river gurgled over rocks. Insects clicked and hummed. She collapsed on a warm, sun-drenched boulder at the river’s edge and groaned.
I’m too old for this shit.
High above, yet well away from apogee, the sun shone golden in an ocean-blue sky. Its warm rays penetrated the cold of her wet, clinging clothes. She soaked up the heat from sun and rock and maintained vigilance on the river. No one appeared, not even a body. Perhaps the crus
hing force of falling water over that last natural weir had trapped anyone close behind beneath the surface.
Lucky for her, she came from a tropical area where yearly downpour was measured in meters and she knew how to get out of such a situation.
She heaved in one last, equalizing breath, hauled herself to her feet, and trudged into the cover of the trees. The temperature dropped with dramatic speed and she quickened her pace in an effort to keep warm and dry her clothes.
So now what? Beam me up, Scotty? If only. Eugen and Alpha are upstream, because I’m not even going to think that anything bad has happened to them, so that’s the way to go with note to self to avoid any and all contact with Bluthen.
Piece of cake.
Yeah right. Shame I’m allergic to grain.
She rolled her eyes at her brain’s debating party. Not only was she lost on an alien planet with hostile, not to mention downright nasty, beings hunting her, it appeared she’d turned into a split personality just to enhance the experience.
You go, girl.
She maintained a watchfulness through the eclectic collection of conifer-looking and broad-leafed trees. Thick, treacherous drifts of needles and leaves cushioned and muted her steps and tossed her on her rump more than once. She split her concentration between scrutinizing the woods and safely navigating the hazardous patches.
It also kept her mind off the unpleasant manner in which her wet socks squished inside her wet boots. But one thought nagged continuously at her, like a thorn at her heart. Where was Eugen?
Over the next few hours, Sandrea acknowledged that her particular style of courage did not lend itself to subterfuge. By the time the planet’s early afternoon rolled around, she had slunk and skulked her way by three Bluthen patrols, was a nervous wreck, and had come perilously close to attacking the last detachment out of sheer exasperated trepidation. Fear wobbled around her stomach and strained her nerves.
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