by Isabel Wroth
I think there’s some clinical psychosis happening, because the peanut gallery sits off to the side and throws stuff at me while shouting,
“YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG! That’s not what he/she said! NO! No, no, no! YOU’VE GONE TOO FAR! ABORT MISSION! ABORT MISSION!”
And then I have to start all over. It’s always a surprise to me the way things work out.
So, if you would be so kind to leave a REVIEW, I would be most appreciative of your thoughts.
Even if you want to tell everyone what a terrible, no good, cliff-hanging monster I am, that’s fine. I’ll take it.
Although, I really don’t like to think of them as ‘cliffhangers.’
I prefer ‘plot extenders.’
‘Assurances of future books.’
‘Ways in which to maintain my sanity.’
As a peace offering, here’s an exerpt from Sarazen’s Fury, Brennaugh and Tara’s story.
SARAZEN’S FURY
COMING SOON!
The jungle was so dense, the heat so intense the thermal readout in her helmet was utterly useless. Everything looked red and orange, which gave her no way to distinguish the branches and hanging vines above him from the thick, muscular tails of the Na'ah queens surrounding them.
The animals all around them were silent or had fled for safer territory, scenting the unfamiliar predators.
She wished the filtration system in her helmet wasn't so efficient, but then again, the scent of the jungle was strong enough to confuse the nose of her most skilled hunters.
They were blind, surrounded in the worst possible terrain to fight these vile creatures, and the only thing protecting them from the crushing force of the serpent's tails was their armor.
To remove it was certain death and she had no desire to feel the deadly kiss of the queen's skin melting venom, ever again.
The memories bubbled up relentlessly. Each pop and sizzle of their plasma cannon fire made her flinch, remembering the smell of her own flesh burning.
Remembering the pain, the certainty she was going to die before Ga'rae could neutralize the acidic venom. Worse, she remembered the day she had finally been released from the medical bay and seen her face for the first time...
She shook the dark memories away and focused on the problem at hand. There were precious few options left, dangers all around them, and she had no intention of dying in this green hell. Someone was waiting for her back home. Someone important.
"Tygge, Thain, I want this area clear of vegetation. Use the tritonic grenades."
The explosion was so violent, Tara was thrown to the floor, landing on her ass on the hard ground. She froze, waiting for the sounds of warning alarms, the shouts of the warriors, for more concussive shock waves to shake the citadel.
But nothing happened. No shouts. No alarms. No more blasts or explosions. No fear.
Strangely, Tara felt a sense of ice-cold rage. She sat up, her hand shaking as she called up the lights and looked around the familiar walls of the suite she shared with her mate.
Only Brennaugh wasn't here right now.
The more settled in her own skin Tara got, the more obvious it was that the rage she felt wasn't her own.
It was his.
He was on his last mission to secure an outpost on S4 suspected of being a hideout for a leading member of the Original Council.
One team had already been sent and hadn't been heard from after reporting some kind of communication failure.
That had been three days ago, and yesterday in Tarek's absence, Brennaugh had taken it upon himself to investigate.
Something was wrong enough for them to have connected via their dreams. Tara reached for him through their bond, needing to feel him, needing to know he was alright.
~Bren? Where are you? Are you on your way home yet?
The silence was profound, and just as panic threatened to overwhelm her, Brennaugh's voice filled her mind.
~I am here, my One. We have reached the facility and come under attack as we made to leave. I must concentrate, control your fear and trust in your mate's experience as a warrior. Can you do that for me?
Tara was well aware Brennaugh had been born and bred to be among the fiercest of the Sarazen warriors.
She knew he was experienced and had held command of a ship and a small army for decades.
Neither of those facts negated the worry that something might happen to him.
~I'll try to keep my worrying to myself. Whoever is attacking you, kick their ass and come home to me.
Tara could feel the smile that stretched over her mate's beautiful lips, and the warm burn of love he felt for her.
~As you command, my One.
She felt the ghostly sensation of his warm hand on her cheek, the tender, loving caress all she got before Brennaugh's presence in the forefront of her mind was gone.
Tara sat still for all of two seconds, admitting to herself there was no way she was going back to bed. She needed to know what was going on, and there was only one place to be.
Hours later, pacing in the command center of the citadel, Tara chewed the last of her fingernails to the quick. Reports had flown in steadily with progress on the battle, a minor one if Falken was to be believed.
Something had gone horribly wrong at the facility Brennaugh and his warriors had been sent to secure. There was nothing wrong with the communication systems. The first squad of warriors sent to search the jungle fortress were all dead and had been for some time.
Her mate had walked right into an ambush.
It seemed a small horde of the same aliens who had attacked the Aria were now somehow infesting the jungle planet of S4. The Na'ah were enormous snake-like creatures, and Tara had seen their vicious appetite for flesh firsthand.
Tara knew her pacing, and the smell of her concern was distracting to the warriors trying to keep the information and communication flowing, but she couldn't make herself sit down or leave.
If she wasn't here and kept up to date on what was happening, she knew she wouldn't be able to keep from reaching out to touch Brennaugh through their bond and potentially distract him during a crucial moment.
Every few seconds she could clearly hear Brennaugh's voice commanding his warriors as they battled against the Na'ah, but sensitive as Tara was to the nuances of his deep tone, Tara could hear his frustration.
She had to take slow, deep breaths to keep her fear to herself as he had asked. To not call out to him on the open channel and demand to know if he was okay.
Tarek suddenly blew into the room, having been out on a private hunting trip with Clary and their cubs.
His voice and his presence filled the room like thunderclouds, the obvious shift in the atmosphere suggested lightning might follow shortly.
"Report!" the pride ruler bellowed, and immediately got all the updates Tara had been waiting on bated breath for.
One of the warriors—not Brennaugh—answered Tarek's demand. "We have engaged what appears to be a nest of over twenty female Na'ah. We have brought down eight of the enemy. At the moment we are fighting to gain the high ground."
Tara watched the pride ruler take a wide stance, folding his arms over his enormous chest while his eyes roamed the viewscreen, seeing what the warriors on the ground saw, nothing but dense jungle, the dark of night, and the occasional flash of pale white when the blasts of their plasma weapons lit up the night in bright blue flashes.
"I do not see vital activity from Commander Brennaugh. His status?" Tara waited for the answer to the intensely distressing question.
A disembodied voice grunted, their view shifting as the warrior leaped over a fallen log to fire wildly into the darkness. "Unknown, Asho. He was beside me moments before you spoke, our backs are to the solid wall of the facility, but he is not here beside us now."
Tarek and Falken both looked to her, but she was already in the process of doing her solid best to shout so loud across her bond to reach Brennaugh, that his ears should be ringing. It took him what f
elt like hours to answer her, but he finally did, and he didn't sound right.
~I hear you, Tara. I hear you.
Tara pressed her hands to her ears and screwed her eyes shut tight, focusing on the glowing skeins of life that bound her to her alien mate.
She struggled to keep herself open to him while not allowing her emotions to stampede past her control,
~I'm in the command center with Tarek, the communication system can't pick up your vital signs. Are you hurt?
~Not yet. I was pulled into the facility from behind. A molecular displacement module must have been deployed. I am in some kind of press, and I cannot move. My armor is thus far protecting me from the crushing force. I—
Brennaugh stopped mid-word, his attention turning elsewhere for a moment.
~I hear voices of three males, their intention is unclear at this time, but a gas of some kind is being pumped into the vise that holds me.
My helmet readout isn't registering it...I can smell...sweetness...if my armor is removed...vulnerable...
Tears spilled down her cheeks, but her fear was slowly turning to rage as his voice got weaker and weaker. His words slurred and sluggish.
~Commander! You will obey your mate! Keep talking. You don't have to breathe to talk to me. Stay conscious. Tell me what else you hear.
For a heartbeat she felt their connection strengthen, his voice steadied in reaction to the harshness of her command.
~Memory download. Vital data stored...they require data...
~Who requires the data, Bren?
~Tara?
~That's right, warrior. Your mate has not given you permission to die, do you hear me? I told you to kick their ass and come home to me.
If you can't do that, I will come down there and I will find you, even if I have to burn that entire planet to the ground!
~Tara...my heart.
~Keep talking to me. Brennaugh? Bren? Answer me!
