by S. E. Smith
“Go, I’ll hide,” she whispered, fighting back the tears of pain.
Leon looked around before he peered back down at her. “I’ll lead them away. Be safe and don’t make a sound,” he instructed, straightening and turning away.
Lina watched Leon disappear down the street. He waited until he was near the intersection before he yelled for help again. She slid under a delivery truck, half lying on the ground behind the front driver’s tire.
She sucked on her tender lip when she saw three sets of feet run by her. Panic filled her when she didn’t see the fourth person. The sound of dry laughter pulled her attention to the end of the street in the direction Leon had taken. The fourth person emerged from around the corner of the intersection. The guy must have run down the other street in an effort to cut them off.
“I was the fastest running back in my high school. I guess I still have it,” the man chuckled.
“Where’s the girl?” the woman demanded.
“What do you want with us? We haven’t done anything to you! Hell, isn’t the world bad enough without making it worse?” Leon demanded in a loud voice.
“Why’s he talking so loud?” one of the guys who hadn’t said anything before asked.
The woman turned to Leon and struck him across the face. “Shut up. Where’s the girl?” she demanded.
Leon rubbed his jaw. Lina bit her lip when he didn’t say anything. She scooted forward when the man behind him struck Leon hard enough to send him to his knees.
“She asked you where the girl was!” the man said.
Leon looked over his shoulder and scowled. “She also told me to shut up. Which is it? Shut up or answer her?” he snapped.
“Trivator forces. Show your hands,” a deep, accented voice ordered from the shadows.
Lina’s breath caught in her throat and her eyes widened with hope. That was why Leon had been yelling. He’d known the Trivators were scouting the area. He knew they would stop the four from harming them.
“Fuck that! Aliens!” the man said, turning and aiming his weapon toward the Trivator emerging out of the shadows.
“Kill them,” the woman yelled, lifting her own weapon.
Lina watched in horror as the group opened fire on the warriors. Leon rose up off the ground and grabbed the woman’s wrist. They fought, the gun in her hand going off several times while the Trivators returned fire.
Everything happened so quickly. Leon swung the woman’s arm around and to the side. Two of the alien warriors stepped out, firing at them. The woman’s body jerked several times and she started to fall. Lina saw Leon stumble back when one of the bolts from the laser fire hit him in the shoulder. The continued sound of gunfire rang out for several more seconds. Leon’s body jerked again, this time a dark patch opening up in the center of his chest.
His shocked gaze locked with hers as he sank to his knees. His hand lifted toward her, as if he was trying to touch her one last time. Lina uttered a gasping sob and scooted forward, trying to get out from under the truck.
A silent scream of denial reverberated through her as Leon slowly fell face first in the street. Out of the shadows of one of the buildings a tall, muscular alien with long flowing black hair stepped over to where Leon lay motionless. He bent and turned Leon over. His hand pressed to Leon’s throat before he rose to his feet.
“He’s dead,” he told the other warriors.
Lina remained motionless under the truck. Tim and Mason found her there the next morning. She was lying under the truck, her eyes glued to the spot where Leon had been earlier. The aliens had sent a human crew to remove the bodies.
She had remained silent, in shock and devastated. It had taken her three months before she realized that she wasn’t going to die from a broken heart. She decided she couldn’t die from one if she no longer had a heart to break. Instead, she filled it with a cold purpose—become a soldier, stand beside Tim and Destin and, if possible, kill the alien with the long dark hair.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Lina,” Gail softly called.
Lina blinked and raised her head. She moaned when she felt the stiffness in her neck and legs. She lifted a hand to her cheek, it felt stiff from her dried tears. She must have fallen asleep.
“What? What is it? Are we…?” She looked up and saw that they were still in the green crystal cave. Brushing a hand over her face, she groaned and straightened her legs. “Is it time to leave?”
Gail shook her head. Dread filled Lina when she saw the expression of sympathy in the other woman’s eyes. Pushing her hair back from her face, she frowned and looked down at Gail where she stood on the steps leading up to the turret.
“Bailey asked me to come get you,” Gail said.
Lina felt her eyes widen in concern. “Mirela…,” she asked, rising to her feet and motioning for Gail to move so she could climb down the ladder.
“No, Mirela’s actually awake,” Gail replied, climbing down and stepping to the side.
Lina jumped the last few rungs of the ladder and looked at Gail. “What…? Edge?” she asked, her stomach tightening in fear.
Gail nodded. “He doesn’t look too good,” she cautioned.
Lina swallowed. Pushing past Gail, Lina took off at a run along the dimly lit corridor. Turning, she jumped down the set of short steps leading to the corridor and the medical bay.
She reached out and grabbed the doorframe leading into the medical bay. Her frantic eyes swept the room, pausing on Mirela who was lying on one of the medical beds, quietly listening to Mechelle. Stepping inside, her turned to Bailey and the surgical bed.
Horror gripped her when she saw Edge on the bed. His body was bowed upward, and his hands were gripping the sides. Sweat glistened on his face, and his eyes looked wild. Bailey was tightening an extra set of straps around his legs even as his body jerked uncontrollably as if he were in the throes of a massive seizure.
“What happened?” Lina demanded, hurrying forward when Edge lifted his arm, straining to break free.
“They are eating me,” he muttered, his head twisting from side to side.
“I need to give him a sedative,” Bailey said, making sure the strap was secure before she hurried over to a tray near the bed.
Lina flashed Bailey a furious glare. “What the hell is the matter with him, Bailey?” she demanded through gritted teeth.
Bailey turned and stepped up near his head. She pressed the tip of the injector to his neck and pushed the button. Within seconds, his body began to relax.
“This won’t last long,” Bailey quietly said, placing the injector on the tray.
“Bailey,” Lina gritted out.
Bailey’s back was to her. She could see the other woman take a deep, shuddering breath before she turned to look at her. Bailey had the same look in her eyes that Gail had—sadness and sympathy.
“He’s dying,” Bailey quietly answered.
Lina could feel her head shaking in denial. The fear she had felt for Leon welled up in her throat again, threatening to choke her. Her hands trembled as she reached for Edge’s hand. Swallowing, she had to try several times before any words would come out.
“Dying? How? What? I…. He can’t. He can’t die. He can’t,” Lina said in a broken voice.
She turned away from Bailey to look down at Edge. He looked so pale. Even with the sleep medication, his eyelids flickered, and she could tell he was in pain.
“It’s the drugs that were pumped into him. They are some kind of weird nanotechnology. We thought that he was going into remission, but they continued replicating. They’ve multiplied,” Bailey explained.
Lina looked at the surgical bed. “The bed…. Surely, it would help him. Can’t it stop the things from replicating?” she asked in a barely audible voice.
Bailey shook her head. “No, at least not yet. The compound is unknown. It adapts whenever we introduce a new drug to counteract it. I just don’t have the knowledge to fight it, Lina. I’m sorry,” Bailey whispered, her voice thick wi
th tears.
Lina stood beside the bed, watching Edge. His breathing was erratic. She lifted her free hand and brushed it across his temple. His skin was hot to her touch. Pain exploded through her until she felt like she couldn’t breathe. This pain was worse than it had been even with Leon.
“What…?” She bowed her head and took deep breaths in an effort to gather her courage. “Can you slow the nano-whatever down?”
“Yes, I think so, but I’m not sure what good that will do except draw out his misery. If the fever inside him doesn’t kill him, the attack on his other organs will. Unless we can get him to a Trivator doctor, I’m thinking it would be more humane to keep him sedated until…,” Bailey said, looking at Edge again. “I can program the surgical bed to slow his respiratory system and lower his body temperature. That may give him some extra time.”
Lina nodded. “Do it,” she ordered, bending over to press a kiss to his lips.
“Uh, gals, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but those warships aren’t going after the decoys. In fact, another big-ass warship just appeared on the scanner, and it looks like it knows where we are,” Andy said from the doorway.
Lina looked up at Andy. Her mouth tightened in determination. She looked at Gail, then at Mirela and Mechelle. A frown creased her brow.
“A signal…. Holy alien hell. There is a tracking device on the ship,” Lina muttered, her eyes widening.
“A tracking device? Where?” Andy asked.
Lina looked down at where she held Edge’s hand. Her mind ran through their conversation. He had mentioned a strange signal.
“The shield. Edge said there was a strange signal going off every once in a while in the shields,” she murmured. She looked over at Mechelle again. “I need you to find it. We can’t use the shields until you do. They will only follow us. Edge shut down just about everything, including the shields. Mechelle, you have to figure it out.”
Mechelle looked uncertain. She glanced at Lina before turned to look at her sister. Mirela gave her a tired smile.
“I can try. I was a gaming programmer, not an alien computer expert,” she said, rising to her feet.
“You did a hell of a job on the Spaceport,” Gail reminded her.
The look of uncertainty turned into one of pride. “I did, didn’t I?” she replied with a smile. “Okay, I’ll take a look. I’ll need to power on the computer system. If I can see the program, I might be able to see if there is an anomaly in the script. Binary code is the same everywhere. It is either on or off.”
“Well, we need you to make sure it is off,” Lina said, reluctantly releasing Edge’s hand so that Bailey could attend to him. “Take care of him, Bailey.”
“I will,” Bailey vowed.
Lina looked at Andy. “Can you fly this thing?” she asked.
“If it has an engine, I can operate it,” Andy promised.
“Ok, this is the plan…” Lina said with determination.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Nebula One: Waxian Territory Outer Rim
Jag stood with his hands clasped behind his back. He was staring intently at the three large Waxian warships slowly moving over the remnants of a moon. They had arrived only moments before the warships did.
Thunder and Vice stood to his left side while the Kassisan, Dakar, stood to his right. They watched in silence as the first of the large ships searched over the pockmarked remains of the crystal moon. In the background, they listened to the communications between the ships.
“Scanners reveal the debris belongs to at least two fighters. Sir, there is another warship approaching,” the Trivator to the left informed them.
“Thunder, I want you and Vice to take one of the modified fighters and search the moon. I want you to find the ship before they do,” Jag grimly replied.
Thunder nodded, then Vice and he strode off the bridge. Jag could feel Dakar’s unease. He looked at the Kassisan.
“What is it?” he asked, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow.
Dakar nodded. “Four warships, at least a hundred fighters, against one. Not the best odds,” he observed.
Jag shrugged. “I’ve been in worse. We have the element of surprise and concealment thanks to Ajaska,” he said.
“And…,” Dakar prompted.
“We Trivators are not without our own technology and resources,” Jag replied with a smug smile.
“Sir, we are receiving a message on a secure emergency frequency,” the man at the communications console said.
Jag frowned. “Play the message,” he ordered.
The communications specialist nodded and activated the com for the bridge. There was a brief moment of silence before a deep voice spoke. Jag lowered his arms and his jaw tightened.
“This is Edge, Trivator warrior identification E585, requesting emergency rescue assistance. We are aboard the Dauntless Explorer in Waxian territory. I don’t have much time. I’ve programmed the ship to jump to Jawtaw territory once we are able. There are seven aboard. Again, this is Edge, Trivator warrior identification E585, requesting emergency rescue assistance.”
Jag turned to the communications specialist. “Can you lock onto the signal?” he demanded.
“Yes, sir, but it is faint. It is coming from the moon. I would need a ship to get closer and act as a booster to pinpoint the exact location. The pyroxene is distorting the signal,” he replied.
Dakar turned to look at Jag. “It would help if you had another fighter out there. If Thunder and Vice discover the ship and Edge is unable to pilot it, you’ll need one of us to do it while the others help provide cover,” he pointed out.
Jag nodded. “Take the other fighter,” he ordered before turning to the communications specialist. “Notify Thunder and Vice of the situation. I want that ship found. Elevate the ship’s status to Level 5, and prepare for battle.”
“Yes, sir,” the communications specialist responded.
Jag narrowed his glare on the three Waxian warships. They were focused on the moon. Their scanners had detected the decoy flares, but they had ignored them.
Jag knew enough to be familiar with that tactic, and it didn’t appear to be working. Edge didn’t have much time.
“Sir, the fourth warship is coming out of space jump. It is a Waxian Battle Tank,” the navigator informed him.
Jag took a deep breath as the massive ship came into view. The Waxian Battle Tank held five hundred fighters, had reinforced armament, and a crew of eight hundred. The three smaller ships, which could easily fit inside it, were overshadowed by this Battle Tank.
“Thunder…,” Jag warned.
“We see it. Fortunately, it can’t see us,” Thunder replied. “We are going in.”
“Dakar will assist you. I would prefer not to engage the four Waxian warships if possible,” Jag dryly replied.
Jag watched as one fighter appeared on the viewscreen followed by another. He hoped to the Goddess that the Kassisan cloaking device was as good as Ajaska and Razor insisted. If it wasn’t, this was going to be a brutal battle with the odds heavily stacked against them. He walked over to the captain’s chair and sat down. Now, it was a matter of ‘wait and see.’
On-board the Waxian Battle Tank:
Katma Achler sat in the commander’s chair. She impatiently tapped the armrest with her fingers. Her focus was directed at the three smaller warships.
“I want the entire moon scanned,” she ordered.
“Yes, Commander,” the captain of one of the warships acknowledged.
“Have you found it yet?” she demanded, looking at the communications officer.
The man shook his head. “Not yet, Commander,” he replied.
“Keep scanning,” she said, rising to her feet. “They are in there.”
Katma clenched her right fist. Her first thought had been to blow the remains of the moon to dust. The two problems with that plan were that she wanted her ship back and she had promised Prymorus that she would capture the Trivator and the human alive. She ha
d been denied the chance to kill Deppar, perhaps Prymorus would give her the pleasure of killing the human female in exchange.
The woman was the root of the issue. She had taken the Trivator out from under Deppar’s nose, and Katma suspected that this woman was also the one who had found the ship she had appropriated several years before. No one stole from her and lived. It was a matter of principle.
Patience had never been her strongest trait. Revenge, on the other hand, was, and she reveled in it. She paced back and forth while the communications officer continued to listen for the tracking code Katma had programmed into the Dauntless’ computer. Then she stopped and looked out the viewscreen at the warships scanning the moon.
“I know you are there,” she murmured. She tapped her foot. “Dispatch a squadron of fighters to start searching the caverns.”
“Yes, Commander,” the First Officer said, before he pressed the com button. “Dispatch a squadron of fighters to initiate a search of the moon.”
“Now, for a little game of hide and seek,” Katma murmured with a sly grin. “I do love a good hunt. It will make killing you all the sweeter.”
Katma did not miss the uneasy glances between the other crew members on the bridge. She didn’t care. Her focus was on standing beside Prymorus when he brought the Alliance to their knees.
Then I will do the same for my darling husband. Queen Katma… No, Empress Katma, she thought with a menacing smile.
Chapter Thirty
Nothing,” Dakar said, searching around the dark green crystal cavern.
“We are entering the next chamber,” Thunder murmured into the comlink.
Small crystals floated around the fighter. The sound of them bouncing against the ship’s hull reminded them that they were in a structure made of glass. Behind him, Thunder heard Vice hiss.
“This would have been better in a shuttle transport than in a fighter,” he muttered.
“Did you see a shuttle with a cloaking device on it? You know, you could always take over and pilot this thing,” Thunder commented.
