by Maya Kane
“That glass is triple-glazed and bulletproof,” Kate said faintly. “Whatever is making that sound…”
There was another loud crash and they both rushed to the tiny window to see what it was. What she saw made Kate shiver from her toes to the loosely-twisted bun on top of her head. Something was trying to get out of the alien ship. She wasn’t just guessing that either—whatever it was seemed to be trying to burst out of the sides of the metal craft. It was so violent that the ship lifted clean off the ground at every impact. Kate’s mouth fell open as several dents appeared in the side of the ship.
“What the…” Kate gasped.
The commander shook his head gravely. “I’ve never seen anything like it. And I thought I’d seen everything lately.”
His cryptic comment washed over her. She couldn’t take her eyes off the ship. She hadn’t seen it up close, but she knew from witnessing the crash that it was heavy and solid and…
“Oh my goodness,” Kate said. Her shaking fingers flew to the amulet at her neck and she played with it absently as the most unbelievable scene she had ever seen played before her eyes.
She had dealt with numerous alien tribes. She had chased them, she had fought them; she’d even captured a Gadon unit. But she’d never seen anything like this.
Five huge dragon-like creatures burst forth from the alien ship with one loud bang. Kate watched in awe as they soared into the sky. There was something almost majestic about them. The weirdest thing was, even though she’d never seen anything like them, they were strangely familiar to her. She shook her head.
“What are they?”
The commander inhaled sharply. “I don’t know. But I can tell you one thing—they’re more than we can handle.”
Kate snorted. “We can’t just do nothing.”
“We’re an operations base. We carry out minor missions in space.”
“But Commander, I—”
Kate lost track of what she’d been saying. She hadn’t seen it happen, but now it appeared there was a man with the dragons—a man who was rapidly falling through the sky.
“Commander!”
“Good lord, this day is getting stranger. I didn’t see him before.”
With a lurching stomach, Kate glanced up higher. Now there were only four dragons circulating in the air above them. Her eyes were glued to the one who was falling. Now that she looked properly, she could see he wasn’t human. Even from a distance away she could make out the strange hue of his skin and the unfamiliar dimensions of his body. And there was nothing huge about the huge protrusion at his pelvis. She wasn’t sure if she’d imagined it or not, but to her he looked aroused. Stranger still, the sight made her shiver.
A strange heat shot through Kate’s veins. She shook her head, wondering what had gotten into her.
The commander was frowning at her. “You’re shivering. Do you think you’ve contracted a space fever?”
Kate wanted to laugh. If he knew what she’d been thinking it would have shocked him. She swallowed her grin. “No. I’m just freaked out by all of this. There I was looking forward to a hot chocolate from the cafeteria and catching up on what’s been happening here.”
She sneaked a glance at the commander. Usually, he would have grudgingly smiled at her attempts to sweet talk her way out of quarantine—but not this time. He was eying her warily. Kate’s wish that he’d tell her everything was okay was rapidly diminishing. She knew it wasn’t okay—and these strange dragon creatures were just the tip of the iceberg. She’d felt it since they reentered earth’s atmosphere.
“Should we go help him?” she asked suddenly.
The commander snorted. “Help him? We don’t have a clue who he is or where he’s from. I’m not familiar with that species. No, I say we let him fall. One less of those creatures to worry about. We’re already—” he stopped abruptly.
“We’re already what?”
“Nothing.”
Kate tried to force herself to watch, but she couldn’t. She squeezed her eyes closed and looked away just before the moment of impact. She didn’t want to see it; she didn’t. She couldn’t explain that either—it wasn’t like she was squeamish or delicate—two years on a space station sure cured a girl of that.
“I don’t believe it,” the commander said, gripping her shoulder.
Kate opened her eyes, not wanting to see the scene before her. But there was no body. She gasped at the sight of the man (as she’d come to think of him, if only in comparison to the dragon creatures) dangling from the teeth of one of the dragons. At first she thought he’d been attacked, but as they flew closer, she saw that he was… smiling. She shook her head. If it hadn’t been for the commander, she would have closed her eyes and returned to the hard, narrow cot in the corner, convinced she was dreaming.
One-by-one, the dragons returned to the strange alien ship, led by the one who was holding the strange alien man. Kate and the commander stared at the ship for several minutes, but it became clear that they weren’t coming back outside anytime soon.
She turned to him. “I take it this means quarantine has ended?”
His eyes bored into her.
“Come on, commander. We don’t know a thing about these creatures. They seem to be shifters of some kind. I’ve never seen anything like it. Never. And I saw a lot of things on the space station.”
“I’ve never seen anything like it either. But that doesn’t mean you can just break protocol. It’s there to protect you—I know you think otherwise; that the rules are simply there to inconvenience you.”
Kate shook her head. “I don’t think that at all.” She looked away—that was exactly what she thought of many of the strict rules that governed the United Earth Forces. “But Commander, it’s incredibly conservative. The chances of me contracting a space virus are minimal. I’ve followed all of the safety protocols. You know how careful I am when I deal with aliens.”
He frowned and Kate was dismayed to see the gray in what had once been a full head of thick black hair. “Your hands were shaking earlier. That could be a symptom.”
“Ah…” Kate thought back, instantly realizing that her shaking was more likely down to a certain hot alien than to some strange sickness she’d picked up on Kanaven. “No. Just surprised; that’s all.”
The commander grunted. She could tell he didn’t believe her.
“Come on, Commander. You can’t have that many back at base. Our replacement team is probably well on their way to Kanaven by now. And the Gulia crew will have departed by now, right?”
His face fell. Kate frowned. “What is it? Was there a problem with one of the other ships too? Can you please tell me what’s going on? Don’t I deserve that much?”
He shook his head. “I don’t want you sitting in here, getting more and more bitter.”
“Please. Tell me. I know people on that ship. Tell me the truth.”
Commander Jessop sighed. “I’m afraid, Kate, that it’s much worse than one ship.”
Kate’s stomach lurched.
But the commander didn’t answer her. He simply turned and walked toward the door. “We have a full staff here. The other crews never left.”
“But, Sir! Who’s manning the outposts?”
He turned back to look at her with the strangest smile drawn across his face. And it really did look like somebody had drawn it there. Kate’s stomach lurched. His eyes weren’t cold and unfeeling at all—he looked utterly devastated. “Let’s go.”
“Sir?”
“You were right. Quarantine is a precaution. We need every extra hand we can get right now.”
Chapter 5
Redon lay slumped against the wall, eyes flickering. Aron had changed back to Dreon form too; he paced close by. The rest of the unit—those who’d been well enough to shift and leave the ship—had been ordered to the strategy room to try and figure out a course of action. As their leader, Redon should have been with them, but he had bigger problems to address.
He rubbed his ridge
d temples. For a start, he needed to work out what had caused him to change form high in the sky. He had worked hard to get control of his body, something all young Dreon had to do when they came of age. He’d never lost control like that before; never. The only positive thing to come out of it was his hearing was back.
“Maybe it’s an injury from the impact. One I wasn’t aware of. I was so busy focusing on my hearing and…” he trailed off.
Aron stared at him.
“What is it, Aron? Go on. I can see you’re bursting to say something.”
Aron shook his head and turned away.
“Aron, I command you to tell me what’s on your mind.”
Aron spun around to face him. “I remember long ago; a time you promised never to give me an order that wasn’t related to our roles in the Dreon forces.”
Redon bristled. “And I haven’t broken that promise. We’ve crash-landed on hostile terrain. I need to know what you’re thinking.”
Aron refused to meet his eyes. “You know exactly what I’m thinking.”
“No, I don’t.” But it was pointless. Redon couldn’t lie to him. He was his oldest and dearest friend. “Aron, it can’t be. We’re half the known universe from Dreon. That can only happen—”
“How else do you explain it then?”
“Injury?” Redon tried again.
Aron shook his head. “No. You’re fine, Redon. Sir. The blast temporarily affected your hearing. No, it would need to be a serious injury to damage the receptors in the brain that trigger the shift.”
“But that’s the only explanation,” Redon snapped, trying to believe his own words.
Aron’s eyes bored into his. He tried to read the expression in them and found he couldn’t. That was a first—he and Aron had been inseparable since they were barely able to walk. Even Redon’s promotion to unit leader had done nothing to sever the bond between them.
“It’s not and you know it,” Aron said finally.
Redon’s pulse raced. He tried hard to steady his breathing but it was jagged and shallow. Could it be true? He didn’t see how. He had never felt it before. Why would it trigger on earth of all places? Then he landed on something. He knew it was a long-shot but still, he clung to it as if it was the only thing keeping him sane.
“It could be because of the prophecies,” he said calmly, sneaking a look at Aron.
Aron looked as cynical as ever. “You believe that?”
“It’s the only explanation,” Redon said resolutely. He refused to believe otherwise. It wouldn’t be. It couldn’t.
Aron opened his mouth and then froze. After a couple seconds, he readjusted his expression and turned to the door. “I’ll check on the other crew members; take a tally of who’s fit to fight and who will need medical attention.”
Redon nodded. “I’ll be there in a moment.”
Aron shook his head. “No. You need to rest. You’re in command of this ship. We need you to keep up morale. If the crew see you like this—exhausted from a chemical surge, it could lower their resolve.”
“If it’s about the prophecies, then it’s not a chemical surge,” Redon snarled.
Aron tilted his head to one side. “As your subordinate, I’m going to tell you ‘yes, sir’. But as your friend?”
Redon looked away.
“This has nothing to do with the prophecies. And I’ll tell you something else—you know that yourself. The prophecies said nothing about our Drayon. You know what this is.”
Redon shook his head, still refusing to believe it. “Go. Count the troops. I’ll be there soon.”
***
“Sir, are you injured?”
Redon shook his head. “Just some slight after-effects of the impact, Zalon,” he said smiling. “I got off lightly compared to you, it seems.”
Zalon nodded. He had been in the engineering room at the time of the impact, and the safety harnesses had failed. He and his team had been catapulted out of the room and thrown along the corridor to the galley. He was lucky to have survived with so few injuries.
“We’re going to do everything we can to ensure you’re healed,” Redon said gravely.
The star engineer had been wrapped in quantumheal by Timon, who was the only crew member with any kind of medical training. Redon had already spoken to the medic. Zalon had broken several bones in the impact.
“Sir,” Zalon said, standing and immediately wincing. “We did everything we could.”
They shuffled away from the others instinctively. Redon didn’t want anybody else to overhear what Zalon had to say.
“I hate to ask this in your condition, but—”
“No,” Zalon said with feeling. “No, it’s your right. I may be injured but there are many of us on this ship.” He cleared his throat.
Redon got the feeling he was stalling. He didn’t like it—usually Zalon was the most straightforward, direct soldier on the ship. Now, though, he seemed uncharacteristically coy.
“Zalon?” he said as calmly as he could.
Zalon made a face. “It’s not good, sir. I’ve only been able to make a brief survey of the equipment—Timon insisted he examine me before I went back to the engineering room.”
“What was it? It happened so quickly—it was unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. It didn’t show up on our instruments. Nothing did.”
Zalon nodded gravely. “I know. My diagnostic equipment is a lot more powerful than the inbuilt meters, but I don’t have a lot of hope. I can tell you one thing,” he said, leaning closer and lowering his voice to little more than a whisper. “It came from earth.”
“But that’s impossible,” Redon said, frowning. “The humans don’t have technology capable of launching a stealth attack like that. Nobody does.”
Zalon shrugged. “They have outposts on several planets. Couldn’t they have traded for weapons?”
Redon snorted. “Traded what, exactly? As it is they only ventured into space because they’ve all but depleted their own resources.”
Zalon sighed. “I don’t know about that. But that doesn’t matter. I can tell from the way it impacted our ship—it came from earth.”
Redon felt dizzy. It made no sense; none of this did. Earth was isolated. Maybe once it had been a great power, but the Collective had changed that. Now the main wealth of the universe was concentrated in the Collective’s territory. Even Dreon was poor compared to the golden planets of the Menharia system, so called because their citizens draped themselves in that metal. But that would all change. The prophecies were clear on that. When the time was right, a troop of Dreon’s finest soldiers would go to earth and retrieve the precious secret that would cast them back to glory. It would herald the beginning of Dreon’s golden age.
He frowned. The prophecy had mentioned nothing about a ship full of Dreon soldiers crash-landing on earth in the years before the great mission. He wished they had—then he might know what to do in this situation.
“Can you tell where we are?” he asked. “There’s a base near here.”
He thought back to what he’d seen as they flew over the stricken ship. His critical thinking functions didn’t work as well when he was in Drayon form, but he had trained himself to pay close attention to his surroundings as he flew through the skies. He tried to remember. Other than the squat rectangular buildings, he hadn’t seen anything else; just miles and miles of golden sands.
Zalon shook his head. “I can’t say for sure yet. Like I said, I haven’t had a chance to look into it. But when I check our logs I should have a better idea. That’s assuming the logs still exist. And our navigation systems, for that matter.”
“Why would they attack us?” Redon said, more to himself than to the engineer.
It made no sense. They had only approached earth after they’d been hit. So what had provoked the attack? Theirs was a relatively small ship—worth a fraction of a warship or a residential behemoth. And it was all but useless now—unless Zalon could get it started again.
“Are the
engines functional?”
Zalon stared at the floor. “I can’t say for sure. But from the way we lost all control? I would doubt it. We’ve got a lot of work to do before we can even think of getting away from here. I’ll work on getting communications channels opened with Dreon.”
Redon nodded. “You do that. We need to get off this place as soon as possible.”
Zalon didn’t look confident.
Redon left his side and moved back to where the main group was congregated. He cleared his throat and the low murmur of voices stopped immediately.
“Soldiers. Comrades,” he said, trying not to wince at the pain in his leg. “I can’t tell you yet who attacked our ship. But I can promise you something: we’ll find whoever is responsible for this and make them pay.”
A murmur through the group. They had lost five good soldiers in the crash; something that tore at Redon’s heart. But he knew he couldn’t afford to dwell on that now—there would be plenty of time for that later, when this was resolved and they were back on Dreon.
“We’ve crash-landed on earth. Zalon believes this is where the weapon came from, though I have my doubts it was the humans. Still, if it was them, you can sleep sound in the knowledge that I will destroy their planet just as soon as—” he stopped. He had almost mentioned the prophecies. He shook his head. That was something that was reserved for Highers—he and Aron were the only ones on the ship who were aware of earth’s significance to their people. And yet, he had only thought of it at the last minute. Something was wrong here; very wrong.
He lifted his hand to his brow and found it slick with sweat. He wiped it on his suit and cleared his throat, trying to calm his racing mind. It felt like he had developed a fever of some sort. He brushed off the most obvious reason for this—it couldn’t be true.
“Salen. You will help Zalon fix the ship with the ship.”
The young cadet nodded and rushed off in the direction of the engine room.
“Heran. Take Melen and Eren. Detach as many of the fixed rockets as you can. We’ll need weapons, and this ship is full of them. The only problem is they’re fixed in place. Yeden, go to the armory and assemble the guns and missiles we do have. I want you to guard them day and night, you understand?”
