The Warrior's Bride (Warriors 0f Valkred Book 3)

by Roxie Ray

  I heard him hesitate then sigh heavily. “There's no way I'll be able to talk you out of this, is there?”

  “Damn right there isn't. Now do it.”

  “Very well.”

  A cascade of raw information slammed into my head, so rapidly that I actually lost my balance for a moment from the sheer force of it. I closed my eyes, trying to adjust. The instructions and data slowly began to assemble into recognizable patterns in my brain, allowing me to visualize the ship's controls and how to operate them.

  Along with all of this came something else – a strange undercurrent of emotions from Dhimurs, all jumbled together. Fear for my safety. Fierce pride in my courage. Determination to survive, so we could spend the rest of our lives in each other's arms.

  And rage. Rage at Torqa, at her followers, at Darqar and the Sives… at anyone who would dare stand in the way of our happiness, now that we finally had each other.

  My eyes snapped open again, and I felt possessed by a sudden flash of clarity.

  I could do it.

  I could fly, and fight, and win.

  I ran up the shuttle's ramp, retracting it behind me and settling into the pilot's seat. The bay doors opened, revealing the war that was waiting for me.

  I took a deep breath and powered up the engines, taking off.

  As soon as I was clear, a pair of Sive ships made a beeline for me, releasing a volley of pulse mortars. I did a barrel roll to one side, clearing most of the explosives… but two of them still hit me, briefly knocking me off-course and draining my shields by five percent.

  My heart was pounding like the drums of my tribe. I was gripping the shuttle's firing controls so hard my knuckles were white and aching.

  You can't afford to panic, I thought. Stay calm. Breathe. Focus. Just keep reminding yourself that this is no different from a hunt. And a hunt isn't about running headlong toward your prey.

  It's about leading them where you want them to go.

  I remembered the first time Ekaid had taken me along on a subterranean hunt for cave trolls. I'd been so excited that once we got below ground, I made the mistake of facing one down directly, armed with nothing but my spear and my desire to prove myself. The creature would certainly have stomped me to death if the other members of the tribe hadn't brought him down before he had the chance.

  I'd been deeply ashamed, but Ekaid had just laughed. “You are small, daughter,” he’d said, “but success in the hunt does not come from being bigger or stronger. You must remember to rely on your cunning, and to use your prey's size and strength to your advantage.” He’d shown me that the best way to trap a cave troll was to lure him into a cavern where his bulk would make him a tight fit, and then spear him while he was immobilized.

  Fine.

  The Sives' ships were bigger than my shuttle. They had more powerful engines, which made them faster, and thicker hulls, which made them tougher.

  But they weren't nearly as maneuverable. And their pilots weren't smarter than I was.

  I set a course for one of Torqa's de-cloaked warships and sped toward it, eyeing the narrow space between its engine nacelles.

  “Come on, guys,” I muttered. “I'm just a silly little Earth girl. No match for you. Come and get me.”

  The shuttle streaked between the nacelles, barely clearing them. The Sives weren't so lucky.

  They crashed into the nacelles, breaking them off and smashing against the hull. The three vessels merged in a tangle of twisted metal and pin-wheeled, exploding.

  “That one's for you, father,” I said with a smile.

  27

  Dhimurs

  As dearly as I loved Judy, I could have killed her for her rash decision to join the fight. I was already in bad shape – the last thing I needed was to be distracted by my worry for her as well. Part of me was tempted to cease blasting at Torqa's ships just long enough to activate the tractor beam and drag her ship back to the shuttle bay.

  But she was right. I had trained her to be a warrior. A true warrior doesn't give up – which meant she'd just keep finding ways to leap into the fray, whether I wanted her there or not.

  And I had to admit, I was impressed by the way she handled those two Sives who were pursuing her.

  I'd never been a religious man, even in the heat of battle. Other soldiers put their faith in such superstitions, not me. But just this once, I offered up a simple, silent prayer to all the Succubi, along with any other deities who would listen:

  Keep her safe.

  Valkredian Incubus-class destroyers swooped and darted all around me, trying to fire at Torqa's ships – only to have them vanish maddeningly before the shots could land. A couple of the cloaked vessels had been blasted to pieces (mostly from sheer luck), but there were still too many to count… literally, since we couldn't pinpoint an exact number. Every time our computers tried to number and identify Torqa’s based on their configurations, they'd disappear again.

  The Devil's Mercy was a formidable ship. Faster and more maneuverable than the Wrath, with cannons that packed a larger punch. It bore down on the Dezmodon like a vengeful demon, guns blazing. But the shields of Torqa's dreadnought held up against the pounding, and its quantum mortars hammered at the Mercy in return. They were too evenly matched, and neither one seemed able to gain the upper hand.

  To make matters worse, the Sives were helping Torqa's fleet fend off the Mana armada. I watched as three of the gangsters' junkers encircled one of the Mana's bulbous, water-filled cruisers… and lobbed explosive charges at it from all sides until it buckled and ruptured, sending water and Mana soldiers out into the cold depths of space.

  From my vantage point, I could almost see the horrified faces of the Mana as they froze and suffocated to death, the portable ocean they'd previously inhabited hardening into massive, drifting chunks of ice and debris.

  A gruesome fate, to be sure. And one I'd share, if I wasn't careful.

  Then I had an idea.

  I activated my comm, broadcasting on a secure channel. “All Valkred and Mana vessels! Get clear of those ice formations!”

  The allied ships pulled back quickly – and I released several pulse mortars at the balls of ice.

  They blasted into pieces, releasing huge, lethal shards… which connected with three hidden ships around them, making them reveal themselves briefly as their cloaks were disrupted. Two of them blew apart, while a third lost one of its engine nacelles, spiraling off into oblivion.

  “Well done, Dhimurs!” Zark crowed over the speakers. “You certainly put those three on ice, eh?”

  “Zark,” I said through gritted teeth, “if we get out of this alive, I'm going to kill you.”

  “Not if I kill him first,” Akzun cut in. “But for now, let's focus on the task at hand, hm? We've neutralized about half their fleet, but the remaining ones are still giving us hell with those cloaks. And those damn Sives are pecking away at the Mana. If we don't find a way to turn the tables soon…”

  A warship de-cloaked right off the Mercy's starboard side and unleashed a barrage of quantum mortars before ghosting off again. The comm fizzled, and then cut out entirely.

  Suddenly, another enemy ship – one that was painted in blinding shades of gold and silver – appeared just above the Wrath, coming in low enough to viciously strafe the topside with its plasma cannons. My shield generators were reduced to forty percent, and I cursed under my breath.

  A high, squeaky, sibilant voice piped in over my comm. One I recognized immediately.

  “Remember me, you cretin bat-worshipper?” Pik squealed. “I've been thinking about you a lot since we last saw each other. I even wrote a special song, just for you. It's called Pik's Payback, and it goes a little something like this…!”

  Pik's vessel disappeared from my crosshairs – only to reappear right behind me seconds later, pumping explosive charges into my rear shields and bringing them down to twenty-two percent.

  “That's right!” Pik cackled gleefully, riding my tail closely. “You have
no choice but to take it!”

  I gritted my teeth, zigging and zagging, trying to give myself enough distance to come around.

  But he wouldn't let up.

  “Say my name, you military moron!” Pik screeched, frenzied, as he poured more explosives into my aft shields. “Say my name!”

  Shield generators were down to thirteen percent.

  Not good.

  Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw something shimmer just off my port side. Another ship de-cloaking. It would be fully visible in less than a second.

  I steered the Wrath right toward the de-cloaking vessel and pulled up hard, close enough to scrape the bottom of my hull against it. Still, I managed to clear it with relatively minor damage.

  Pik didn’t.

  His gilded eyesore of a ship streaked toward it like a missile, plowing right into it and out the other side before erupting into a fireball. Flames and smoke billowed from the craters in the larger ship, and it combusted spectacularly, raining bits of glass and metal down on the space station.

  I checked my instruments, and my blood froze.

  My shield generators had dropped to zero. Also, the collision with the other ship had torn the weapons arrays away from the underside.

  In this fight, the Wrath was now little more than a defenseless hunk of scrap metal.

  And Judy’s parents were trapped on it with me.

  I looked at the view screen. The Sives’ ships just kept on coming. The Dezmodon didn’t appear to have sustained any significant damage, while the hull of the Devil’s Mercy was now scorched by lasers and pockmarked from the impacts of quantum mortars. The cloaked ships whirled around us like a pack of phantoms.

  Was this it?

  After all those wars in the name of Valkred, all those enemies vanquished… had I fought my final battle at last? I didn’t want to believe that, not with so much at stake. But it was hard for me to picture any other realistic outcome.

  Then I thought of Judy.

  I couldn’t give in. I couldn’t think in terms of defeat. Not when she was still out there, piloting a shuttle for the first time in her life and still dealing out bloody murder to Torqa’s people. Not when she deserved a safe universe to live in.

  Not when we deserved to be together at last.

  Just then, a voice chirped on my comm. For a surreal moment, I thought Pik had somehow survived his crash with the other ship after all… then I recognized the voice’s true owner, and breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Salutations, noble warriors of Valkred!” Bek said. “You seem to be in a bit of trouble. Might we offer some assistance?”

  A fleet of Drekkir merchant ships appeared on screen, approaching in tight formation.

  “Yes!” I answered a little too loudly. “This is the Valkredian flagship the Angel’s Wrath. My shields are depleted, and I’ve lost my weapons systems! I need backup immediately.”

  “I believe we can accommodate you,” Bek cheeped. “However, before we do, perhaps we should return to the topic of fair compensation for such an intervention. As I recall, we had left this issue unresolved during our previous negotiations. Shall we say… six million rula for our efforts, plus rights of salvage on all enemy vessels?”

  “Fine, yes, whatever you want,” I shouted. “Just target those damn ships and start blasting!”

  “Excellent! A pleasure doing business with you, Dhimurs!”

  The Drekkir closed in around the Wrath to shield it, and then opened fire, pelting the Sives and de-cloaking ships with heavy lasers. Half of the Sives were torn to pieces within seconds, and the other half retreated from the battle entirely, streaking away at top speed.

  “I've never been so happy to see those stingy fur balls in my life!” Zark said on the comm. “How the hell did you convince them to lend a hand?”

  “Let's just say we probably won't be hosting any expensive diplomatic banquets in the near future,” I answered.

  “I'm glad they showed up,” Akzun interjected, “but I'm still not sure they'll be enough to take down Torqa's fleet.”

  Another idea came to me. It was horribly risky – perhaps even insane. But it was the only thing I could think of that might strike the deciding blow in this fight.

  “Stand by,” I said into the comm.

  “Why?” Zark asked. “What do you have in mind?”

  “Something the first general I ever served under once told me: 'Kill the head, and the body will die.' If we remove the Dezmodon from the battlefield, the mercenaries piloting those other cloaked ships will have no reason to keep fighting, since they won't be getting whatever Torqa promised them in exchange for their service.”

  “How do you plan to do that? So far, that damn thing's taken everything we've thrown at it without blinking.”

  “Leave that to me. Just hang in there and keep hitting the Dezmodon with everything you've got. Make sure Torqa is focused entirely on you.” I set the comm system to broadcast through the Wrath. “Ekaid, Lidea – get to the command deck as quickly as possible!”

  They ran in a few moments later. “What's going on?” Lidea asked.

  “No time to explain. You're both going to have to trust me.” I switched the comm to address the other ships. “Drekkir ships, break off. Judy, can you hear me?”

  “I'm here,” she replied quickly. “Why did you tell the Drekkir to stop covering you?”

  “Because it's time to show Torqa why betraying the Valkred Empire was the worst mistake she ever made. But to do that, I need you to pilot the shuttle as close to the Wrath as you can. Don't let up, no matter what happens or what those other ships try to hit you with. Understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Keep the comm line open,” I told her. “This is going to be a close one.”

  “Closer than the plasma spike?”

  I let out a humorless laugh. “This is going to make that look like a carnival ride.”

  The Drekkir ships had broken off their formation around me but they were still in the fight, blasting at the rest of Torqa's armada. I set a course directly for the Dezmodon.

  Ramming speed.

  The Wrath lurched forward, picking up momentum as the Dezmodon grew larger and larger on the view screen.

  “I need both of you to come sit next to me,” I told Ekaid and Lidea. “And when I give the word, grab my hands and don't let go.”

  They looked at each other uncertainly, and then took the seats on either side of the captain's chair.

  “Ah, I see what you have in mind now,” Akzun said, sounding impressed. “Let's see if we can improve your odds of success. Drekkir fleet, can you move into position and occupy the Dezmodon's aft weapons arrays? Make sure they aren't in a position to stop him?”

  “Another million rula, and you have a deal,” Bek responded.

  “Fine,” Akzun snapped. “Just do it!”

  The Drekkir vessels took up a stance to the rear of the Dezmodon, firing on it.

  On screen, the great black ship drew closer, closer, like the shadow of death itself. If I didn't time this just right, it would be the last sight I ever saw.

  But that was not an option. Not when Judy and her parents were counting on me.

  The comm system beeped. I knew who it was, and I contemplated not answering – but part of me couldn't resist seeing the look on her face right at the end, when she understood what was coming for her.

  I hit the button. “Hello, Torqa.”

  She appeared on the view screen, scowling. “What in the name of all the Succubi do you think you're doing, Dhimurs? Some last, grand, selfless gesture? I spent enough years serving with you to know when you're bluffing. You're not suicidal, and you'd never endanger the lives of those pathetic Macurians sitting next to you. Cease your grandstanding and break off your collision course at once!”

  “You're half right, Torqa, my old comrade in arms,” I replied quietly. “I'm not suicidal. But I am not bluffing.”

  The Wrath was close to impact now. Only a matter
of seconds left.

  “Everyone thinks of me as a warrior,” I went on. “A battle-hardened soldier. A general. Without my years of training and experience, I wouldn't be those things. But there's something everyone always manages to forget about me, Torqa. Even you, even after all the time we've known each other. They all forget the abilities I was born with. They forget, because I don't flaunt them. In fact, I never, ever use them… until it's absolutely necessary.”

  I reached out, holding hands with Ekaid and Lidea while maintaining steady eye contact with Torqa.

  “What are you blathering about, you…?”

  Then, suddenly, her eyes widened with understanding.

  And terror.

  “No,” she breathed.

  “Yes, traitor. Oh yes.”

  “No! Dhimurs, you… Listen to me, you can't do this! You know me! We've fought side by side, we… we've saved each other's lives! You know I was never truly disloyal to Valkred – not where it counted, not in my heart! Everything I did, everything, it was all to protect our people from a treaty that would pander to the very race of fish-headed ghouls that sought to wipe us out.”

  “Even the mass murder of our people?” Ekaid asked stoically. “How did that serve your grudge against the Mana?”

  She licked her lips, beads of sweat forming on her high brow. “Dhimurs, please, it's not too late. I'll come back! I'll go back to my old position… or a lower one, if that's what you want! I'll re-enlist in the military as a cadet – I'll start all over. I'll do whatever Akzun asks! I'll accept a life sentence and advise him from a prison cell, if that's what it takes to come home again. I just want to serve my planet, that's all I've ever wanted! Please just let me serve Valkred again!”

  “You will, Torqa, I promise. By dying.”

  And with that, I closed my eyes and visualized the interior of Judy’s shuttle – just as the Wrath hit the Dezmodon, and the heat of the explosion brushed lightly against my face.

  28

  Judy

  I piloted the shuttle to a safe distance, and then watched as the Wrath collapsed against the Dezmodon, erupting into a fiery column.