André looked out the window. “I just had a bad day,” he answered, trying to find something other than the truth to focus on. The door in the back of his mind was straining against the pressure. “The thing this morning, the fight with Katrina.” He shrugged and looked at his father. “I just have a lot on my mind.”
“What happened this morning?” Cal asked.
“Georgia happened this morning,” André said.
After a moment, the crease between Cal’s eyes faded and he said, “Damn, no wonder your wife slugged you.”
André shrugged. “Yeah, I screwed things up royally.” He looked down at his wedding band. “If things had gone differently today, she would have never forgiven me.” He looked back out the window.
“I’m amazed she forgave you at all,” Matthew remarked.
“I saved her life today,” André said, gaining the attention of both men. “And inadvertently, she saved mine.”
“What happened?” Matthew asked, concern replacing some of his irritation.
“Anna tried to kill her,” he explained. “She tried to run Kat over with her hovercraft.”
Matthew raised his eyebrows, remembering Anna as one of the many girls André had dated his sophomore year. “Why?”
André sighed. “The vibe made her a little psycho.”
“What’d you do?” Matthew asked.
“I blew up the hovercraft before it got to Kat,” André answered.
“You killed Anna?”
He shook his head. “No. But only because Katrina saved her ass.” He took a deep breath. “I reacted.” He studied the control panel, not meeting his father’s eyes. “Badly,” he added. “So, I’ve got a little bit on my mind right now.”
“Jesus,” Matthew said, turning back to the controls.
André felt Matthew’s disappointment pressing down on his chest. He closed his eyes, succumbing to the gravity of what he did.
“You lost control?”
“No. I knew exactly what I was doing,” he answered. “She was gonna kill Kat.”
The silence fell over the three of them, no one knowing quite what to say.
“Let’s go move a meteor,” Cal said, breaking the awkward silence that settled on the cabin.
Jupiter was now within sight and Matthew eased back on the controls, changing the direction of the ship so the meteor was now in full view. “Do you need to be closer than this?” he asked, looking back at André.
“Probably,” he answered, “and more to the side as opposed to head-on.” André considered the situation. “Do you have the exact coordinates of where it is so I know which way to push it, Dad?” Nerves jumbled in his stomach.
Matthew pushed a button on the control panel and a monitor slid down to the right of André. After a moment, the screen came to life with the data of the current projected path of the meteor and then the projected corrected path required to launch it into the sun’s orbit. It showed the distance differentials between the original path and the changed path as well as probable margin for error.
André digested the information while his father navigated the craft where André requested. He glanced out the window, feeling the first tentacles of thought scans by the intruder. He shut down his mind, concentrating on the task at hand. “That should be good enough,” he said.
Matthew slowed the craft, turning it toward the meteor. “What do you need from us?”
André bit his lower lip and looked between the window and his father. “I need the co-pilot seat,” he said, glancing at Cal.
Cal stared out the window. A deep crease appeared between his eyes as he studied the meteor and André knew he felt the mind scan as well.
“Captain, do you mind?” Matthew asked.
Cal looked at Matthew. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“André needs your seat.”
He nodded, glancing back through the window as he unbuckled and relinquished his seat.
André settled into the co-pilot’s seat and took a deep breath, settling his nerves and concentrating on gathering the energy within him into a tight ball in his chest. His skin tingled with the power and his pulse pounded, tingeing everything in front of him with a pink hue. His eyes burned with the effort. He clamped his eyes closed, focusing the explosive energy.
When the tingling sensation transitioned into scorching pain, he opened his eyes, letting the power beast loose, aiming it at the meteor. Space rippled in a straight line from their shuttle, closing the distance to the meteor in a blink of an eye.
The meteor vaporized, leaving a billion dust particles floating in space and shock registered in André, dropping his jaw just before the world went black.
Matthew stared at the dust particles in awe and turned to witness André slump in the co-pilot’s seat, with only the whites of his eyes visible and his skin as pale as the day Katrina’s father stabbed him.
“Jesus,” Matthew shouted, ripping his seatbelt off and jumping to André’s side. He lifted his son’s limp head. “Oh sweet Jesus,” he whispered at the slackness in André’s face.
Cal shoved Matthew aside and felt André’s neck for a pulse. “He’s alive,” he said over his shoulder to Matthew.
He closed his eyes in a silent prayer until a heavily accented voice filled his head and both he and Cal spun to the windshield and the approaching spacecraft.
“Holy crap,” Cal said, his eyes going wide. He forgot about his unconscious ward for the moment.
Matthew took a step, blocking André behind him in a protective reflex before he picked up the transmitter. Trading a glance with Cal, he pressed the button and said, “State your intentions.” The only other spacecraft Matthew ever came in contact with was André’s and he wondered if this ship was from the same origin.
“Peace.” The voice barreled through the cabin in a low baritone that shook the interior of the spaceship.
Matthew had no tangible reason to doubt the alien’s motive, but his internal alarms sounded anyway and an unspeakable apprehension gripped him. “Permission to board?” Matthew asked, glancing at Cal and swallowing the sudden onset of nerves.
“State your intentions?” the voice boomed.
“Same as yours,” Matthew replied.
“Permission granted.” The craft dipped below and out of sight, followed by the familiar sound of the airlock whistle signaling a successful docking.
“Think he’ll be all right?” Matthew asked, looking at André.
“His heart rate is strong and his breathing is regular,” Cal said. “I think he just expended more energy than any of us expected. I’m sure he’ll come to in a few.” He looked at the docking cabin. “I thought I felt something out there,” he said.
Matthew studied the docking cabin as well, debating as he met the captain’s gaze. “You coming?”
Cal smiled. “Hell, yeah.”
After an atmospheric scan validated the alien craft would sustain them, Matthew opened the air lock and stepped into the docking station, closing the door behind him. “Our visitor needs oxygen just like we do,” he said and the discovery did nothing to settle his internal alarms. A snarled nerve bundle settled in the pit of his stomach. He glanced back toward the cockpit and André, still reading a big blank.
Cal gnawed on his lower lip, surveying the air lock to the other ship.
“Here goes,” Matthew said and with a deep breath, he released the air lock to the visitor’s craft and entered with the captain in tow.
A man towering close to seven feet stood in the front of the craft with his back to the air lock, his hands clasped loosely behind his back.
Matthew knew he was tracking them in the reflection, but he wasn’t prepared for the image when the alien turned toward them. Red eyes shimmered from an otherwise human form. Matthew stopped in his tracks, his gaze landing on the scar on the alien’s cheek and all the stories André told of his homeland surfaced. This was the Zyclonian commander who carried out the order. The one who sealed André in that death po
d.
Anger blushed in his cheeks and he saw the nuance of a change in the man. The calm, friendly smile changed, turning feral and dangerous.
“You have something I want.”
Matthew laughed at the sheer irony. He had longed to be in the same room as this man, to kick his ass to the other side of the universe and back. But with André so close and no idea of how powerful this man was, he couldn’t take the chance. “I have no clue what you are talking about.”
“He vaporized the meteor,” the Zyclonian replied.
“You can’t have him,” Matthew said, his internal alarms now sounding louder than the pounding of his heart.
The Zyclonian laughed until he lost his balance, taking a step back against an invisible shove and his gaze swung to Cal.
“You can’t have him.” Cal echoed Matthew’s sentiments. His hands balled into fists and his head hung low. His eyes narrowed into glaring slits aimed at the alien standing at the bow of the ship. He clenched his teeth, trying to let the anger build, to fuel his power. “You can’t kill him,” he clarified, gleaning the stranger’s deepest thoughts.
Cal slammed against the wall with enough force to daze him. He slumped to the ground, struggling to his hands and knees.
“Who are you to stop me?” he asked, glancing in Matthew’s direction.
“I’m his father,” Matthew growled.
The stranger laughed again. “You aren’t his father.”
“Bullshit,” Matthew spat.
“I killed his father,” the Zyclonian laughed, taking a step toward Matthew. “Just like I’m going to kill you.”
Pain seared his entire body and Matthew fell to his knees, struggling to pull in a breath against the invisible hand crushing his chest.
The cold hand of fear wrapped around his heart and André sat up like a bolt of lightning, his eyes darting around the ship, disoriented.
André, wake your ass up now. Cal’s thoughts invaded his mind, jolting him out of the chair. He followed the silent beacon, out through the air lock. His father’s pain slammed into him like a tackle from a blind side. He stumbled, trying to catch himself. Fury enveloped him and he stormed around the corner, his gaze landing on the man causing his father’s suffering. “Let him go,” André growled.
The man glanced at André. “Hello André. It’s been a long time,” he said and his eye twitched.
Matthew’s shoulder split open and his scream of pain echoed on the walls.
André stepped in front of his father, interrupting the power flow.
Matthew collapsed on the floor, his breath no longer gasping, but coming in harsh pulls as the air flowed in.
Cal crawled over to Matthew and began assessing the damage.
André glared at the man, recognition settling deep in his gut, bringing with it a raw blinding rage. “I know you,” he hissed.
“I never imagined you would live long enough to be saved.” The man laughed.
Hatred flared, along with memories of his parents’ dying screams. “You’re the son of a bitch who killed my parents.”
“I killed them slowly, painfully, without mercy. And now I’m going to do the same to you.” His eye twitched.
André’s left shoulder split open and he clenched his teeth. “Is that all you got?” André asked, using the pain to fuel the building power in his soul. With a tilt of his head, he released a bullet, sending the man flying back against the glass. André took a step forward with murder in his heart.
“Don’t, André,” Matthew gasped.
André paused, his father’s labored plea taking some of the fire from him. “He killed my parents,” he said, justifying his intent.
“That doesn’t mean you get to do the same,” Matthew said, his voice a little more controlled.
André ground his teeth, glaring at the man, still holding him against the glass with a fraction of his power. “He was also the one who sealed me in that tin can to die.” The glass behind the man began to crack under the pressure. “Get my father out of here, Cal,” André ordered, glancing over his shoulder. “Now.”
Cal picked Matthew up, backing out of the room and into the airlock. It closed at André’s direction, sealing them out of the deadly space before he focused back on the Zyclonian. He wanted to feel this man’s bones break under his fists. He released the alien from his mental grip.
The man fell to the ground, but was up on his feet within a heartbeat.
“Captain Trevor, what the hell are you doing in my galaxy?”
“Looking for another world to conquer,” he said and his eye twitched.
André put his hand up, stopping the flow of power aimed at him. The alien’s eyes widened in surprise. “Have you ever used your hands to kill?” he asked. “Or are you just a fucking coward?” He pushed the power back in the direction it originated, knocking Captain Trevor back on his ass.
“I’d love to tear your head off with my bare hands and bring it back to the emperor.” Captain Trevor stood, advancing at the implied invitation.
André smiled and without warning, threw the first punch. It connected with Captain Trevor’s chest, sending him flying onto his back. “That felt good,” he said and turned so he led with his right shoulder, protecting his injured shoulder, both fists positioned in front of him like a boxer. “If you knew I was coming, why didn’t you just take out the ship?” he asked as the captain got to his feet.
Captain Trevor charged.
André sidestepped and threw an upper cut, connecting with the captain’s rib cage, knocking him across the ship. “Is it because you aren’t as strong as I am?”
“I’m going to take great pleasure in seeing you die,” Captain Trevor said, standing up.
André shook his head. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I promised my girl I’d come home from this trip.” He centered himself again.
“Your girl?” the captain asked.
“Yeah, I got a girl waiting for me. But you, you’ve got nothing waiting for you but a world of hurt.”
The captain lunged, this time swinging and connecting with André’s jaw.
André stumbled back, catching himself before he lost his balance completely, but it wasn’t quick enough to prevent Captain Trevor from reaching him. A hand as strong as the vise in his father’s garage clamped down on André’s throat, lifting him off his feet and slamming him into the wall.
“Looks like your girl is going to be disappointed after all,” Captain Trevor growled in André’s face, and dug his thumb into the cut on André’s shoulder with his free hand.
André cried out in pain. “Son of a bitch,” he gasped, throwing a weak punch into Captain Trevor’s side and planting a kick with everything he had, right between Captain Trevor’s legs. He dropped instantly; the captain sunk to his knees, holding his balls, red tears welling in his eyes.
André didn’t wait for the captain to regain his composure. He slammed his fist into the captain’s upturned face, smashing his nose. He threw a second punch, connecting with the captain’s eye. Crippling pain ripped through his thigh as it split to the bone and he yelped, stumbling back to the center of the room before slipping to his knee.
Anger raged, twirling and binding with the pain, and André forced himself to his feet.
Captain Trevor leaned against the wall, his nose gushing blood from between his hands. His eye twitched again, slamming André across the room into the far wall.
Fire flared in his side and he nearly doubled over, his hand pressing against the wet fabric of his flight suit, pushing the torn skin together. Wrath boiled through every vein, pounding and pulsing until it merged in the center of his being. Like a rocket, his power fired, accompanied by a roar that echoed off every surface in the room.
Captain Trevor catapulted toward the window of the aircraft and the glass crumpled against the shove André let loose. Both Captain Trevor and all the oxygen in the alien craft were sucked into space.
The air hissed out of André’s lungs and he lunged for
the air lock, mentally pressing the release valve, opening the door to the cargo bay beyond. It took all his effort to pull himself out of the space vacuum and into the cargo bay, leaving him just enough energy to slam his palm on the door controls.
His lungs stung with the lack of oxygen and he fell on his hands and knees, crawling toward the shuttle door as white spots filled his vision. It took a moment to understand the high-pitched wheeze wasn’t the replenishing of oxygen; it was coming from him. Pain and panic filtered into his consciousness and he reached for the shuttle door. “Dad,” he exhaled with the last of the oxygen.
The doors swished open and Matthew turned to see Cal drag André into the spacecraft. Matthew sat at the controls, his shoulder bandaged and throbbing, but not as much as the fear lacing the lining of his stomach.
“Get us out of here, Commander,” Cal said.
Matthew didn’t need to be told twice. He unlatched the ship from the alien craft and headed back toward Earth. He caught a fleeting view of the Zyclonian and wondered if he was dead. A closer look at the crystallized face confirmed it, and Matthew glanced over his shoulder. “How’s my son?”
Cal didn’t answer directly, but the barely concealed curses jolted Matthew along with the intensity of how Cal worked. Blood flowed in pulses from André’s thigh, and Matthew swallowed hard. He’d seen that type of wound before. An arterial bleed, the kind that requires transfusion to keep the patient alive and his head snapped toward the body of the Zyclonian who hurt his son.
He turned the ship around.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Getting my son blood,” Matthew replied and slowed the ship as he passed the floating corpse.
Cal nodded before continuing his patch job on André’s thigh, brandishing his laser like a wizard wields his magic wand. “We need to get him back home, as fast as you can, Commander. He’s lost a lot of blood.”
Maneuvering the ship, he trapped the dead body in the outer bay, and then he resealed the doors and pressurized the air lock.
A thud followed as the body hit the floor.
“Tell me when it’s safe,” Cal said, taking a sample of André’s blood and cataloguing it in his handheld computer. He pulled out a syringe and a bag, setting it aside until Matthew gave the word and went back to patching André up.
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