“You might want to relax that scowl before she arrives,” Sedrik advised, amusement clear in his hushed tone. The general sat next to Drex at the oblong table, and Governor Raylon Lasenger sat on Sedrik’s other side. They were the two most powerful Rodytes in Earth-space. Drex was merely their mouthpiece and legal advisor.
“I’ve been scowling since I met her,” Drex countered. “A smile would seem suspicious.”
Raylon chuckled, obviously listening to their conversation.
“Well, here she comes, so it’s too late to cheer up anyway.” Sedrik nodded toward the doorway through which Jenna had just passed. The opening was flanked by battle born guards armed with flexblades and plasma blasters. Another set of guards was stationed in the hallway outside, and even more patrolled the lobby and entrances to the hotel. Humans were unpredictable and hostilities still ran high after the tragedy in L.A., so General Lux wasn’t taking any chances.
Drex shifted his gaze to the doorway and heat cascaded through his body. Jenna was back in a business suit similar to the ones she’d worn during the tribunal. The dark brown skirt ended just above her knees and the jacket was formfitting enough to showcase her feminine shape without being too much of a distraction. Being able to see so much of her creamy skin the night before had been a real treat. Her hair was secured in a simple twist against the back of her head, and her lovely features were held in an expression both serious and assessing. Her strange golden gaze drifted his way for a millisecond before she focused on one of her colleagues.
“I don’t need to ask if you told her or not,” Sedrik whispered. “The temperature in this room just dropped by ten degrees.”
The negotiating teams sat on opposite sides of the table. Jenna sat in the middle with one of her companions on either side of her. Human guards took up strategic positions around the room as a smiling waitress offered the negotiators coffee and water.
Drex lightly scanned the room, absorbing emotions without analyzing the source or implications of each one. He used the technique frequently. It allowed him to determine if anything suspicious was happening and whether or not he needed to be involved. He didn’t sense anything unusual for the situation, so he started to minimize his empathic sensitivity. Then his gaze returned to Jenna and curiosity took over.
Twice he’d tried to sense her and twice he’d failed. Had she been taught how to erect mental shields? Most humans had no paranormal aptitude, so why couldn’t he sense her? He increased the sensitivity of his empathic receptors, but not surprisingly, he felt nothing. His gaze narrowed as he backed off his empathy and reinforced his shields. The only beings he’d encountered that he couldn’t sense were other empaths. His mentor had told him it was a biological protective mechanism that kept empathic receptors from locking on to each other, creating dangerous echo loops. But Jenna was human. Could she also be empathic?
Oblivious to his curiosity, Jenna introduced her team, then Drex did the same. Both of her teammates were generals, one from the Army, the other the Air Force. The choice seemed odd if Earth was truly seeking a peaceful solution to the conflict, but Drex knew asking about it would put the humans on the defensive.
“Just so there is no confusion,” she said once the pleasantries had been exchanged, “can you explain what you need from us?”
“We need you to stop interfering with our transformation program,” Raylon muttered.
The governor’s impatience with diplomacy was well-known. Drex wasn’t sure why Sedrik had insisted that Raylon be included in the negotiations, but Drex had no input in the choice. All he could do was soften the blows. “Governor Lasenger might have put too sharp a point on it, but he’s correct. We’re simply asking that you allow us to present our offer to eligible females, and that each willing female be allowed to participate in the program.”
“Why are you focused solely on the U.S.?” the Air Force general wanted to know. “Your interest is clearly not random.”
“We’ve found a higher concentration of compatible females in certain geographical areas. These areas happen to be in the U.S.” It was true, but the reason for the concentration wasn’t happenstance as he implied. A powerful magic spell was drawing compatible females to areas known as sacred bonding grounds. He wasn’t opposed to explaining what that meant, but he saw no reason to introduce the detail.
“We’re still wary of the transformation process itself,” Jenna told him. “However, as long as you allow some form of human oversight, and each female knows all the risks before she volunteers, we have agreed to let the program proceed. Our biggest concern now is what happens to the bonded couples once the transformation has taken place?” Jenna looked at each of the Rodytes in turn, her cool expression unchanging. “Will the females be expected to leave Earth, or are you asking permission for magically empowered Rodyte males to immigrate to the United States?”
“We’re hoping to give each bonded couple a wide variety of options.” Drex scooted to the edge of his seat and squared his shoulders. “If the battle born are locked into predetermined roles, even after their transformation, then the rebellion failed. The fundamental purpose for the conflict is to create a future where the battle born are allowed to shape their lives into anything they want. Some, perhaps many, of the females will not want to leave their homeworld. It stands to reason that some of the couples will settle on Earth, some will return to Rodymia, and others will go somewhere entirely new.”
Jenna shook her head, apparently displeased with his answer. “Empowered warriors would be an enormous security risk.”
“Or they could be an enormous benefit,” Drex pointed out. “Within the current structure of your immigration policies, ‘persons of extraordinary ability’ are given greater consideration than those without such skills. Spouses of U.S. citizens are also prioritized. Is this correct?”
Jenna smiled, then glanced at each of her companions. “The ‘extraordinary ability’ provision refers to highly skilled engineers and Olympic-level athletes, not mind readers and soothsayers.”
He shrugged off her obstinacy. “Only because you’ve never encountered a legitimate mind reader or soothsayer.” This was too important to be derailed by her stubbornness. “Is there any reason the category can’t be expanded to include those with verifiable paranormal abilities?”
She started to answer, but the Army general leaned in and whispered something in her ear. She shot him a confounded look and he nodded, his expression stern. “We’re willing to consider the possibility, but we need to set new limits and detail-specific qualifications so they can be applied consistently.”
Both Sedrik and Raylon nodded, so Drex said, “We agree.”
“Good. Shall we continue with—”
A disruption in the utility corridor drew everyone’s attention to the door through which the waitress had been coming and going. The door slammed open and the waitress was shoved into the room. She landed on her hands and knees with a startled gasp, the contents of her tray scattering all around her. Two human males barged in behind her, wearing bulky jackets and dark pants.
One shouted, “Earth for humans!”
The other yelled, “Resistance Force!”
Springing into action as they heard the disruption, the guards, both human and battle born, drew their weapons and rushed to form a protective barrier around the negotiators.
“Hands in the air!” one of the human guards ordered.
Time seemed to slow and Drexel’s heart slammed against his ribs. His gaze immediately shot to Jenna, needing to protect her, but the nearest path to her side was now filled with armed guards. She sank down in her chair, looking pale and frightened. He gritted his teeth and scooted to the edge of his chair.
“Death to all aliens!” the intruders chorused as they drew hand guns out of their pockets.
The guards opened fire, but so did the terrorists. Bullets and plasma blasts erupted in a maelstrom of destructive power. Flexlar body armor protected the battle born guards, but the human soldie
rs jerked and twisted as bullets tore into their flesh.
Jenna screamed and three bloody circles appeared on her jacket, quickly spreading like spilled paint across her chest. Instantly disregarding the danger, Drex leapt onto the table and scrambled across. Searing pain tore through his side, twisting his torso as his vision blurred. It took a second for his muddled mind to realize the startled cry echoing in his ears was his.
Each movement he made spiked the pain, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was Jenna. He slid off the table and shoved her chair back far enough to scoop her up and drag her beneath the table clutched against his chest. She clung to him, moaning weakly, eyes squeezed shut against the pain.
His side burned and he was starting to feel woozy, but his wound was nothing compared with hers. Her face was ashen, lips rapidly turning blue. There was so much blood!
The gunfire gradually stopped, as did the screams. In a matter of minutes, the terrorists were dead, but the damage was already done.
“She needs a medic!” Drex shouted.
Sedrik moved his chair out of the way and bent to one knee, bending sideways so he could see under the table.
“She’ll bleed to death before they get her to a human hospital.” Drex looked down at her, then into Sedrik’s eyes, pleading with his gaze as well as his words. “Please, help her.”
Sedrik turned his head slightly to one side. “General Lux to the Triumphant. Medical emergency. Stream me and anyone not standing in this room to Med-bay 3.”
“You’re out of range, sir. Is there someone else who can—”
“Use the Fearless as a relay,” Sedrik snapped. “Just make it happen!”
No one refused a direct order from General Lux, but it took the crewmembers a few agonizing minutes to work out the logistics. When Drex finally felt the bio-streaming engine engage, he shifted Jenna more fully into his arms. Pain radiated through his side and chest, momentarily stealing his breath. Bio-streaming was a relatively new technology for Rodytes, but his frequent and often sudden trips to Earth had abolished the novelty for Drex. He managed to get his legs beneath him and slowly stood as the disorientation wore off.
“Over here.” A medic on his left motioned toward a treatment table. Drex staggered to the raised bed and carefully placed Jenna on the padded surface. She groaned and her head rolled from one side to the other. Thank the gods, she was still alive.
His side throbbed, a constant reminder that he was also wounded. He pressed his hand over the area and stubbornly ignored the pain. Until he knew she was out of danger, nothing else mattered.
The medic activated the diagnostic canopy and an intricate web of scanner beams appeared all around her. Some of them swept back and forth across the length of her body, while others remained steady.
“She definitely needs regeneration, but I’ve stopped the bleeding,” the medic informed. “Doctor Mintell might want to remove the projectiles himself. The regen units tend to cause unnecessary damage when they attempt that sort of thing.”
“Will she survive?” Drex’s throat was so tight he barely forced the words out.
“Yes, of course.” The medic went off to find his supervisor and Drex allowed himself to exhale.
Extensive regeneration would leave her weak for a day or two, but she would fully recover. He brushed the hair back from her forehead, mesmerized by the delicate beauty of her face. Even pain-tense and smeared with blood, she was more attractive to him than any female in the universe. It was almost irrational.
As his fear lessened, the pain in his side became more persistent. Each breath sent stinging sensations deep into his abdomen, and pressing his hand over the area no longer helped. He looked around the room. Medical teams were working on three of the human guards and a bullet had creased the face of one battle born soldier. How in all of hells’ rings had this happened? How had those fools gotten past the perimeter guards?
“Is she all right?” Sedrik asked as he walked up on the other side of Drex. The general looked cool and in control, as always, but compassion warmed his purple-ringed eyes.
“She will be. The medic stopped the bleeding, but he thinks Doctor Mintell will want to remove the bullets himself.”
Sedrik nodded and a faint smile curved his lips. “Mintell doesn’t fully trust the regen units. Thinks he can do everything better himself.”
“I thought he was stationed aboard the Intrepid.” The detail was unimportant. Drex just needed to think about something other than the nauseating throb in his side and his mate riddled with bullet holes.
“I transferred him shortly after I arrived. His people aboard the Intrepid are now familiar with the transformation protocols, so I brought him here to train a second team.”
“Makes sense. That way you can process couples twice as fast.”
Sedrik’s smile broadened. “I’m glad you approve.”
Drex rolled his shoulders, trying to disperse the tension gathering there. Instead, the maneuver accented the stinging pain in his side. He hissed and pressed even harder against the area.
“Are you wounded?” Sedrik’s voice snapped with authority and irritation. He pulled Drex’s hand away from his side, revealing the blood stain. “Hells’ rings, man, why didn’t you say something?”
Before Drex could defend his actions, the general stormed away. He returned a few moments later with one of the medics. This one was younger and more personable than the first.
“Slip off your jacket and anything underneath,” the medic directed.
Drex obeyed, grimacing and hissing as his side protested each movement. The bleeding had nearly stopped, but his side was already vividly discolored and the gash was long and deep.
The medic thoroughly cleaned the area then used a handheld med-unit to stimulate healing. “The contusion is more of a problem than the laceration. You’ll be sore for a few days, but I doubt this will leave a scar.”
A lasting scar was the least of his concerns. He needed to be strong enough to ensure Jenna’s safety. “What about range of motion and strength?”
“They should return by tomorrow.” The gash closed and the throbbing gradually receded, though some of the discoloration remained.
Drex took a deep breath, thrilled to find it no longer hurt.
“Do you need an analgesic?” The medic deactivated the med-unit and stepped back.
Slowly raising his arm and stretching the muscles in his side, Drex tested the level of soreness. “I’ll be fine without one. Any chance you can find me a shirt?”
The medic nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Mintell joined them a few minutes later, his uniform already covered in blood. He assessed the readouts and quickly examined Jenna before acknowledging the males. “She will fully recover,” he assured. “But I need to do some clean up before we move her to a regen unit.” He glanced at Drex’s naked chest. “Were you injured as well?”
“Yes, but one of your medics took good care of me.”
Mintell nodded, then motioned toward the nearest exit. “You’ll need to wait in the outer room.”
Reluctantly, Drex moved away from the treatment table and followed Sedrik out into the reception area. The second medic caught him by the exit and gave him one of the clingy shirts worn under uniforms. Drex thanked him then joined Sedrik in the waiting room. He looked around as he slipped on the shirt. The information desk was empty, as were the double row of chairs.
“I’m going to the command center.” Sedrik glanced at the chairs and shook his head. “Don’t sit here and drive yourself crazy. Regeneration takes hours, sometimes many hours. Go clean up, then return to the hotel and see if you can figure out who those bastards were and how they got past my security team.”
Drex nodded, still stunned and anxious, but willing to obey.
* * * * *
The next six hours passed in a blur of activity and frustration. Raylon had taken over the crime scene while Sedrik dealt with the wounded. Raylon might be a politician now, but his
background and training were military. He’d locked down the hotel, refusing to let anyone in or out until they figured out exactly how the assailants had reached the conference room with loaded guns stuffed in their pockets.
“We need to insist that all talks take place on one of our ships.” Raylon paused to rub the back of his neck. They’d just finished interviewing the last witness on the list they’d compiled with the help of the hotel manager. “A simple munitions scanner would have stopped this long before a single bullet left a gun.”
Drex nodded. The tribunal had taken place aboard the Destroyer, so Sedrik reluctantly agreed to let the humans host the first round of negotiations. Clearly, their security had been insufficient. As had the battle born’s, but why? What had they missed? “This doesn’t feel like an isolated incident. Someone has to know something about this ‘Resistance Force’.”
As if summoned by the comment, Morgan Hoyt walked into the office Raylon had commandeered for the investigation. “Good evening, gentlemen.”
Drex and Raylon were still seated at the small round table they’d used for the interviews. They exchanged greetings, then Raylon motioned her toward one of the empty chairs.
Morgan directed a large human taskforce that dealt with conflicts involving aliens. Drex had met her during the tribunal and liked her immediately. She was a striking redhead, with a sharp intellect, and an impressive network of covert agents. If anyone knew about the Resistance Force, it would be Morgan.
“I was told the wounded were taken to one of your ships,” Morgan said as she joined them at the table. “Will everyone recover?”
“One of the human guards died during transport. Doctor Mintell was unable to revive him. Everyone else will be fine.”
Drex stared at Raylon in shocked silence. Jenna had so completely absorbed his attention that someone had died a few feet away and he hadn’t even realized it. Shame warmed his cheeks and made him shift uncomfortably on his chair. He could not let bonding fever eclipse the rest of reality. It was dangerous, and selfish.
Defiant (Battle Born Book 13) Page 3
