The Lasaran (Aldebarian Alliance Book 1)

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The Lasaran (Aldebarian Alliance Book 1) Page 31

by Dianne Duvall


  Ari’k barreled up it. Barely slowing down, he dropped Lisa into one of the comfortable seats and lunged for the control room in front.

  Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

  “Shields at thirty-two percent,” the calm female voice announced.

  “Drek!” Taelon skidded to his knees in front of Lisa and hastily tucked the baby back in the sling.

  Kuxa ran past and joined Ari’k in the control room. Ari’k took the pilot’s seat, Kuxa the copilot’s seat. Both started readying the transport for departure.

  The last two Yona—Yihrus and Sodu—leaped inside.

  More booms.

  “Shields at twenty percent.”

  “Close it! Close it!” Taelon shouted.

  Lisa glanced over her shoulder as Taelon hurried to strap her in and watched the ramp slowly begin to rise. Her breath came in gasps. Her whole body shook.

  He had to keep Lisa and Abby safe. He had to.

  Boom. Boom. Boom.

  “Shields at thirteen percent.”

  Taelon threw himself into the seat beside her and strapped himself in. “Tell Jamis to provide cover fire now!”

  The ramp closed. Taelon glanced out the window.

  An instant later, anything that wasn’t locked down flew out of the docking bay as the shield failed.

  Ice cut through his veins. That had been close. Too close.

  The transport lifted up. Taelon peered through the docking bay’s entrance.

  Sleek black fighters exchanged fire with rounder gray crafts. Then the shades dropped down over the windows and the transport shot away, traveling faster than it had when they’d left Earth. When the force of it pushed them back into the seat cushions, Abby began to wail again.

  “Hostiles in pursuit,” Ari’k announced.

  Taelon leaned over, cupped a big hand behind Abby’s head, and kissed her soft hair.

  Abby’s cries lessened to whimpers.

  Taelon met Lisa’s gaze. “I have to go help.”

  She offered a jerky nod. “I love you.”

  Taelon unstrapped his harness. “I love you, too.” Leaping up, he ran to the control room.

  “It’s the Gathendiens,” Ari’k announced.

  Taelon swore and motioned for Kuxa to vacate the copilot’s seat. As soon as he did, Taelon slipped into it and fastened the safety harness. “How the hell did they even know we were here?”

  “Unknown,” Ari’k replied.

  “You fly. I’ll fire.” Taelon swiftly attached a weapons visor to his forehead and pulled the clear screen down over his eyes. He glanced ahead of them, noting the presence and projected path of every Lasaran fighter and every Gathendien craft as he slid back the panels on both of the seat’s arms. He rested his hands in the grooves on the armrests, settled his fingers into the small hollows provided for each.

  “Incoming,” Ari’k announced calmly.

  “I see them.” Taelon focused on the two craft that veered toward them and pressed his fingers.

  Energy blasts shot from the ship and hit the first craft. As it exploded, he shifted his gaze to the second ship and again pressed his fingers. Energy blasts took the second craft. The weapons system unerringly followed Taelon’s gaze and fired with 100 percent accuracy each time. But the damn Gathendien craft outnumbered them greatly.

  This had been a very well organized attack.

  Lisa clutched Abby tighter as the transport swerved from side to side, sometimes flipping upside down and spinning in a damn circle that made her stomach lurch.

  One of the two remaining Yona opened a panel in the floor and stoically dropped down into a seat it concealed. The other opened a similar panel a few yards down and did the same. Neither had any difficulty maintaining their balance or maneuvering in the constantly shifting transport, as though they had done this a million times.

  She leaned over to peer down at one of them. He looked like he was sitting in a gaming chair that floated in a glass bowl. A strap across his hips held him in place as he pulled a clear visor down over his eyes, rested his arms on those of the chair, and slid his fingers into smooth grooves in the surface.

  “Weapons armed,” he stated, touching a control screen before he reached up, drew the floor panel back into place, and hid himself from view.

  “Weapons armed,” the second confirmed, doing the same.

  Shit. Were they like the ball turret gunners of World War II? If so, they would be totally exposed down there!

  The floor vibrated beneath her feet.

  Was it the weapons firing? Or were they taking fire?

  She couldn’t tell and looked toward the cockpit or whatever the Lasarans called the royal transport’s version of it.

  Through the front windshield, made of an impenetrable clear crystal Taelon had told her, a battle waged like something right out of a Star Wars movie. Except this time the black fighters were the good guys and the pale gray craft were the bad guys.

  The pale craft by far outnumbered the sleek black fighters, but those black fighters were putting up a hell of a fight. The battlefield was cylindrical in shape and bracketed by the glowing white walls of the qhov’rum. It was like watching military aircraft on Earth try to engage enemy fighters in the center of a Category 5 hurricane.

  Taelon swore. “Where the drek is the battleship that launched these?” He too now wore a clear visor.

  “Behind the Kandovar,” Ari’k replied, his tone exhibiting none of the fury Taelon’s did.

  The floor beneath her rumbled almost constantly as the two Yona in the belly fired their weapons. Bright streaks of light shot from the transport and reduced pale craft to fire and rubble.

  The transport shook violently. Then shook again.

  “Shields?” Taelon asked.

  “Holding,” Ari’k replied, veering left, then right. There were so many craft engaged in battle that Lisa didn’t know how the hell he managed to keep from crashing into one. Every time Ari’k veered away from one ship, he nearly brushed against another.

  “We can’t keep fighting them in the qhov’rum,” Taelon said. He must be manning some of the weapons, because everywhere he looked, a craft exploded. “It leaves us no room to maneuver.”

  “Affirmative,” Ari’k stated. His hands moved over his control screen. “I have input new coordinates. We will exit the qhov’rum in three, two, one.”

  The royal transport abruptly swung straight up like a damn rocket launching and burst through the wall of the qhov’rum.

  The transport shook violently.

  Abby’s head slammed into Lisa’s chin.

  Then darkness surrounded them.

  Everything went still and quiet.

  Except for Abby. Abby shrieked and wailed.

  Ignoring the pain in her chin, Lisa gently rubbed Abby’s abused head and made soothing noises as she looked out the front windshield.

  The bright qhov’rum was gone. Deep space stretched before them, eerily calm compared to the racing of her heart.

  “Did any follow us?” Taelon asked.

  “Searching,” Ari’k murmured. “Affirmative. Four did. There.”

  “I see them.”

  The transport vibrated several times. Light shot from the transport.

  The transport zigged and zagged and spun as more light fired forth.

  “Targets neutralized,” Ari’k announced.

  The transport stabilized.

  Taelon unfastened the safety straps and removed the visor. “Keep a sharp eye out and figure out where the hell we are. We weren’t supposed to exit this qhov’rum for another two months.”

  “Yes, Prince Taelon.”

  As soon as he vacated the seat, the other Yona in the cockpit slid into it and donned the visor.

  Hurrying back to Lisa, Taelon knelt before her. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded.

  He cupped the back of Abby’s head. “The baby?”

  “She’s okay. She just bumped her head on my chin.”

  Taelon lifted Abby out
of the sling and hugged her close. “Shh. It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. Mommy and Daddy are here.”

  Abby clung to him, her little face red, her nose running. Taelon held her and rocked her until she calmed.

  “Is it over?” Lisa asked shakily.

  He looked up and opened his mouth to answer. Then his eyes widened with alarm. “You’re bleeding!”

  “What?” Lisa glanced down, but saw nothing. “No, I’m not.”

  Reaching out, he drew a thumb across her bottom lip and held it up. Blood glistened on his tan skin.

  Lisa raised a trembling hand and swiped at her lips. “I must have bitten my tongue or my lip when Abby’s head rammed into my chin.”

  One of the floor panels opened. The Yona inside the closest ball turret—she thought his name was Sodu—looked up at them. “I detect no more enemy craft. May I leave my post? The shield is in danger of failing.” His voice evinced no alarm.

  Taelon passed Abby back to Lisa. “Of course.” Offering Sodu a hand, he pulled him up out of the turret, replaced the panel, then strode toward the other one.

  Sodu stopped him as Taelon reached for the panel. “Don’t. Yihrus took a direct hit. The shield around his weapons station is compromised.”

  Lisa’s heart sank. Was Yihrus dead? Had he died protecting them?

  “Is it still functional?” Taelon asked.

  “Barely. The atmospheric barrier remains but could fail at any moment.”

  Since embarking upon this space voyage, Lisa had learned that Lasaran shields actually consisted of two separate layers. One repelled weapons fire. The other created an atmospheric barrier like the one at the entrance of the docking bay. Electronically generated, it did not create a physical barrier you could touch or feel, so ammunition (or whatever caused those blasts of light) could pass through it. Though it seemed strange to her, the most difficult one to destroy was the atmospheric shield. Lasarans had designed it thusly so that workers would have the time and atmosphere they needed to mend any breaches.

  Taelon looked toward the front. “Ari’k, can you divert power and temporarily reinforce weapon station three’s shield?”

  “Such would weaken the shield around the rest of the transport and—”

  “Just do it!” Taelon snapped.

  Ari’k paused. “Yes, Prince Taelon.”

  Taelon seemed surprised by the capitulation.

  “Shield reinforced,” Ari’k announced.

  Taelon swiftly yanked up the floor panel, then swore. “Help me get him out.”

  Sodu moved to his side.

  Though it was awkward as hell, the two managed to lift the unconscious Yona male out of the ball turret. The left shoulder of his uniform bore a large scorch mark, much of the fabric torn away. Blood poured from a grisly wound that offered glimpses of mangled flesh. More blood spattered his neck and one side of his face.

  Sodu immediately closed the floor panel. “Panel secured,” he called to Ari’k.

  Taelon felt Yihrus’s neck. “Still alive.”

  Kuxa left the cockpit and strode past them toward the back of the transport, not stopping to look at his fallen comrade. When he reached a door, Kuxa placed his palm on the scanner beside it and tapped the screen.

  The door rose.

  Her jaw dropped. She had known the transport was twice the size of the area in which she sat. The windows on the exterior had indicated as much. But she’d figured it was just additional seating and storage.

  Wrong.

  The large white room Kuxa entered looked like an infirmary with a small bathroom to one side.

  Kuxa crossed to a cabinet, unfastened it, and began removing supplies.

  Taelon and Sodu hoisted Yihrus up, jostling his wound as little as possible, and carried him into the next room.

  Lisa followed, bouncing Abby slightly in her sling to calm her.

  Yihrus lay unconscious on a stark, narrow bed with lots of drawers beneath it. An electronic arm descended from the ceiling and ran a wand across the injured male. A line of light began at his head and moved down his body like a document scanner. The wand retracted.

  Taelon opened a drawer and withdrew a small cylindrical object that reminded her of a key chain pepper spray canister while Sodu cut away the soldier’s clothes and Kuxa took packages down from a nearby cabinet.

  Lisa leaned against the doorframe, not wanting to get in their way. The three men barely spoke a word, each seeming to know exactly what Yihrus needed before the computer’s calm female voice announced it. Had Taelon fought in other battles? Had he tended to injured soldiers? Had he been injured like this before?

  Taelon held the canister over the oozing wound and sprayed a clear liquid on it until the liquid coated every jagged edge. While Lisa watched, it swelled into white foam that the blood turned pink, then red. It fizzled for several seconds before it melted down and turned clear again, ultimately vanishing and leaving the wound clean.

  The injury looked even worse now than it had when blood obscured it.

  Taelon donned a pair of gloves and studied it. “Still bleeding,” he murmured.

  Sodu nodded. “We need to remove the debris. Prepare to seal the tears.”

  Kuxa joined them, holding out a tray.

  Taelon grabbed a slender canister from the tray. A long, skinny tube protruded from one end and reminded her a little of the can of WD-40 she always kept on hand at home. Then he reached up and drew an otoscope-shaped device attached to a thicker tube from the array of mechanical devices above the bed.

  “Okay.” He stepped back.

  Sodu took a flat wand from Kuxa’s tray and held it over the wound. Shrapnel shot out of the damaged flesh and attached itself to the wand.

  Shit!

  Blood rushed out.

  Taelon leaned over the open wound and sprayed a tiny shot of something into it, then aimed the otoscope at it. A beam of blue light shot from the otoscope thing. He repeated the process several more times before stepping back. “All sealed. The bleeding has stopped.” He studied it a moment. “Looks good.”

  Not from where she stood.

  “Begin blood transfusion,” Taelon commanded as he set his instruments back on the tray and removed his gloves.

  A mechanical arm descended from the ceiling and hovered over the bend in one of Yihrus’s arms. A grid pattern appeared on his tanned flesh seconds before a needle pierced it. Red blood slithered down a tube and into his arm.

  Sodu covered the shoulder wound with a bright white bandage.

  Kuxa sprayed it with a substance from yet another canister.

  The bandage fitted itself against Yihrus’s flesh as though suctioned to it as a clear, shiny substance coated it, extending an inch or two beyond the bandage and holding it in place.

  Very cool. All of it.

  Taelon looked at Sodu. “Give him silna to speed his healing.”

  Sodu nodded, withdrew a handgun-shaped tool, and pressed the barrel to Yihrus’s neck. It made a psst sound. Then Sodu tucked it away once more.

  Taelon turned toward Lisa.

  “Will he be okay?” she asked.

  He nodded and closed the distance between them.

  “Are you okay?” She had been so rattled that she hadn’t asked earlier.

  Wrapping his arms around her, he pressed his forehead to hers. “As long as you and Abby are okay, I’m okay.”

  Twenty-four hours later, Lisa settled a slumbering Abby in the center of a sizable bed. She’d seen pictures of private airplanes that boasted bedrooms but hadn’t expected to find one in the transport just on the other side of the infirmary.

  Royals in space really traveled in style, even for short distances.

  After piling pillows around Abby to keep her from rolling off, Lisa made her way through the empty infirmary and joined the men.

  All were seated on the L-shaped sofa and murmured to each other while they stared at the shiny table that also functioned as a large viewscreen. Yihrus was up and moving around. His arm was in
a sling and his movements a little stiff, but his face projected no pain.

  If the Yona didn’t feel emotion, did they feel pain?

  There was still so much Lisa didn’t know about this new world she’d entered.

  Taelon glanced up at her approach. “Is Abby asleep?”

  She nodded.

  Ari’k rose and stepped aside so she could sit beside Taelon.

  “So?” she asked, taking in their grim expressions. “What’s our situation?”

  Taelon sighed. “Our long-range comms have been severely damaged. Sodu is trying to repair them, but it isn’t going well. We’ve tried hailing the Kandovar with proximal comms and have had no success.” He glanced at the others. “We’ve concluded that the ship was most likely destroyed.”

  “Oh no,” she murmured. All those people.

  “Considering the damage the Gathendiens inflicted before we left the qhov’rum, I’m sure there were casualties,” Taelon continued, either hearing or guessing her thoughts. “But the Kandovar was equipped with enough escape pods to evacuate every person on board, so some should have survived.”

  Eliana had mentioned getting the other Earth women into pods. Had they launched only to be destroyed by the Gathendien craft? Or had they escaped? Were they safe? Lost? Scared?

  Lisa had Taelon and the Yona with her to ease her fears. Anyone else who escaped had only the solitude of the pods. “Do you think there could be survivors nearby?”

  “Improbable,” Ari’k replied. “The qhov’rum allows us to travel at such speeds that they are likely scattered over many sectors of space.”

  “Shit.”

  Taelon nodded. “We’re light-years away from Lasara. But we agree that reentering the qhov’rum would be unwise.”

  “Why? Do you think the Gathendiens might be in there, lying in wait for us?”

  “No. The qhov’rum was constructed by the Sectas. It is less like the wormhole you described to me that bends space to make the distance you travel shorter, and more like a…” He thought for a moment, then shook his head. “I can think of nothing comparable on your planet. A magnetic levitation train combined with a gravitationally propelled roller coaster?”

  She stared at him blankly.

  “It doesn’t fold space and burrow through it like a worm so much as it provides a safe path—undisturbed by planetary orbits, asteroids, space debris, or the like—through many, many sectors of space while it propels us forward at speeds our engines could never reach even with modifications.”

 

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