Chloë

by Marcus LaGrone

  “Only for a week to ten days, Lady Chloë. Just in case, we have already initiated a distress signal on the Shukurae networks,” offered one of the other guards. “LC, I don’t like this…”

  “Neither do I. Set off a DEMP grenade in the sitting room and then move them in there.”

  The warrior wasted no time as he plucked an odd looking grenade off the back of a fellow soldier and tossed it into the next room. Chloë wasn’t sure what she had expected from the grenade, but a high-pitched shriek followed by a very faint, almost comically faint, ‘pop’ was not it.

  “That’s it?” she asked as the Shukurae herded them into the sitting room.

  “It’s an electro-magnetic pulse weapon,” offered Raymond as the pair carried Heather. “They do seem kind of anticlimactic don’t they?”

  Chloë nodded with simple understanding. “So it fried any electronics that might have been in the room without blowing it to bits.”

  “Precisely,” replied Raymond.

  “I want another blueberry muffin, mama,” murmured Heather in her sleep.

  Chloë laughed out loud. “Even in her sleep she still thinks of food!”

  “That is a good sign,” replied Raymond. “It means she’s just tired.” He leaned over and gently kissed Heather on the forehead.

  “You like her, don’t you?” teased Chloë.

  Raymond offered a feeble grin. “She thinks more highly of me than I think of myself. That is refreshing.”

  “Just be careful about the ‘fresh’ part,” laughed Chloë. “You remember who her father is, right?”

  “A man who raised one heck of a daughter.”

  Chloë had an arsenal of other quips to fire back at Raymond, but that just didn’t seem right. Not now at least; save those for happier, simpler times.

  Suddenly a new Shukurae burst into the room and bantered with Watzkel. She turned and fired, “Can you three ride?”

  Chloë was confused, “Ride what?”

  “Ride on their backs,” interjected Raymond. “The two of us can make do, but we aren’t leaving Heather behind!” he barked back to the Line Centurion.

  “If we get her in the straps, can you ride with her and keep her from falling off?”

  Raymond thought for a split second, “If you think riding is the best way out of here, then I’ll figure out a way to make it work.”

  “Excellent answer.” She waved in another Shukurae and directed the two newcomers over to Chloë, Heather and Raymond. They turned and knelt revealing an elaborate series of straps on their back where the other soldiers had been carrying extra weapons and ammunition.

  Raymond pointed out the obvious stirrups and the pair quickly sorted out which were the hand holds. Chloë climbed onto the soldiers back and he stood and shook a bit. Chloë found the handholds held well. “I think I can do this. What of Heather?”

  Raymond had already removed a series of straps from the back of the second Shukurae and used them to lash Heather’s sleeping form across his chest. With the strength and poise of a professional ready for anything that life threw at him, he made his way up the back of the second warrior and settled himself in place. With his off arm he threaded his arms through the straps and with his dominant arm, he held on tight to Heather. “Let’s make this happen.”

  The second Shukuare shook a bit, testing Raymond’s strength. Satisfied with Raymond’s grip, the pair of warriors sprang into action, stooping over for the low clearance, and raced out of the building. As they hit the front door, they were met by a dozen or more Shukurae who ran with them through the network of buildings. They were greeted by periodic gunfire, which they returned twenty-fold.

  The retort from their weapons made Chloë’s ears ring, but she refused to feel sorry for herself. These soldiers were putting themselves in harm’s way for her. Not for her father, not out of fear, not for money. They were doing it because they thought it was the right thing to do. Chloë cursed herself for ever thinking ill of the Shukurae. She cursed those tutors of hers that had ever put such thoughts in her head. She would never think of the Shukurae the same again, and she knew the mental image of Watzkel’s motherly caress of Heather would never leave her. Some images of war were hell; some were of hope.

  The exchange of gunfire quickly subsided. Chloë was not too surprised by that; the Shukurae were far more professional, precise, and were just far better equipped than their counterparts. Their escorts soon deposited them at what she had to assume was the Shukurae’s barracks: oversized furniture, high ceilings, and an arsenal suitable for invading small planets. Everywhere there was motion, but nowhere was there confusion or panic; there was a sinister grace to how these people made war. Professional was the word that gripped Chloë’s mind; then she looked over at Heather and that word fell to the wayside. Noble. That was the only word that seemed to fit.

  Others quickly helped the trio from the harnesses and one gingerly carried Heather to the back of the room. Once again Chloë was fascinated to observe how carefully and delicately the Shukurae handled Heather.

  “You are very careful with her,” observed Chloë. “I take it the Stratford family means a lot to you.”

  The Shukurae turned his pale, blink-less eyes to Chloë, “Who are the Stratfords?”

  Chloë was shocked, “Um, Ivy Stratford and her husband Llewellyn. You’ve heard of them, yes?”

  The Shukurae smiled as he shook his head, “Sorry my lady, I’ve not. The LC probably has; she’s seen a bit of action alongside the Taik.”

  “But you went through all this effort to save her.”

  His grin broadened further. “You two girls were kidnapped. What more needs to be said? We would not tarnish our honor by serving a kidnapper.”

  Chloë was confused and impressed. “You didn’t help us because she was a Highlander?”

  He shook his head again. “I did not know she was a Highlander until you said so just now. No one should have to suffer the fear of kidnapping. No one. Even if a Gelkin had been kidnapped, we would not sit by idly.”

  Chloë just laughed and gave up as she hugged the towering mass that was the Shukurae. “Thank you. Thank you for being everything Heather said you people were and more so: honest and noble doesn’t even to begin to cover it.”

  The Shukurae laughed, and his ears softened and drooped. “You are most welcome, my lady. Now let’s see what we can do for this young lady here. Heather is her name?”

  Chloë beamed and nodded.

  “No signs of trauma. Brain activity is relaxing. Adrenalin levels appear to have spiked and are falling. Heart rate is normal. Blood pressure is low, but not very low. Do we need to wake her? She will recover more evenly if left to a natural sleep.”

  “Then let her sleep,” interjected Raymond. “I’ll carry her if we have to move her, but we are in no hurry to be anyplace.”

  “I can carry her, little kitty. Don’t worry about that.”

  Chloë almost busted a gut at the ‘little kitty’ comment. Watching Raymond’s expression as he fought to remain civil was likewise priceless. Chloë was now certain that the Shukurae meant no disrespect by the comment; working across languages was always prone to small misunderstandings and mistranslations.

  Chloë quickly turned her attention to the front of the room as she saw Watzkel enter the room. She was new at reading Shukurae facial expressions, but she found Watzkel’s expression to be positively frightening. That probably didn’t bode well for Reinhardt.

  Watzkel laughed as she was handed a commlink. “I think it would be best if the rest of your people surrendered, Reinhardt. We will provide medical aid for those that do.”

  “I think it best that you surrender the two girls if you wish to make it off this rock,” came the defiant reply.

  “Negative. We are fine. Our emergency beacon was able to transmit through your primitive attempt at jamming, and we have confirmation on our extraction vehicle. By the way, poor shooting by your troops. The plasma lance that breached the front door almos
t seriously injured the girls.”

  “Lies! All lies!” came the shrieking reply.

  “False. We find subterfuge unnecessary,” grinned Watzkel. “We repeat our earlier offer: we will provide medical aid and safe passage to those troops that surrender.”

  A barrage of obscenities erupted from the commlink. Watzkel laughed at the reply initially until she noticed Chloë’s horrified expression. “Hey, watch your language! You are upsetting Lady Chloë’s sensitive ears,” admonished Watzkel.

  Chloë turned away, embarrassed. Sensitive ears. There was so much she had never been exposed to. She had truly lived a sheltered life and her softness and her simple view of life and the worlds around her truly made her feel insignificant. Princess. She hadn’t done anything to earn that title; she was just born with it. She had never earned anything in her whole life. She watched Heather mumble and roll over on her makeshift bed. Correction: she had earned a friend, and a good one at that!

  Watzkel passed off the rambling diatribe on the commlink to another trooper and approached the trio in the back of the hall. She clapped Raymond on the back and he recoiled under the force. “You did a good job, palace guard. You made do with what you had available, and you safely transported Lady Heather here.”

  Raymond looked a little disgusted with himself. “All I did was grab her and hold on for dear life. Your troops did all the heavy lifting.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short; you also did an excellent job disarming Reinhardt’s guard. It takes no small amount of guts to disarm someone empty handed.”

  Raymond just stared at Heather. “Thank you, I guess. It’s just Heather… I mean she’s the one that did all the heroic stuff: disarmed the first guard, soaked a shot to protect one of your people.”

  “If you want one piece of advice,” began Watzkel with a grin, “since you seem determined to be hard on yourself: next time Heather tries to be heroic, stop her. She is not a professional soldier, you are. Someone is going to need to save her from herself.”

  Raymond offered a feeble attempt at a laugh. “Stopping Heather from doing much of anything is more than a bit difficult.”

  “I know,” grinned Watzkel. “That is why it is up to us professionals. If it was easy, it wouldn’t require our services.”

  Raymond finally relented with a more sincere laugh. “Yes ma’am! I will consider it a professional challenge.”

  “That’s the attitude! Now,” continued Watzkel as she looked over to Chloë, “if I understand correctly, you are Princess Chloë Amsterval of Bervik III but House Stratford of the Three Dales of the Highlands has granted you sanctuary?”

  Chloë nodded, “Yes ma’am. That is correct. I left…”

  “She left Bervik III because she was being forced into an illegal marriage: she was both underage and an unwilling participant,” interjected Raymond.

  Watzkel cocked an eye at Raymond, “Yet your serve her father.”

  “I am employed by her father. My duty is to protect Lady Chloë to the best of my abilities.”

  “Well spoken,” grinned Watzkel. “So you do not fear her father’s wrath if things do not go according to his wishes?”

  “I fear something bad happening to these two young ladies. What her father does is secondary.”

  “When things come to an end, if you find yourself wanting for employment, we’d be proud to have you serve alongside our unit,” offered Watzkel. “You do your planet proud.”

  Raymond just stared at Watzkel with disbelief. He knew what he had heard and he knew the Shukurae would never joke of such things. His brained churned as he fought for words before feebly settling for, “Thank you.”

  “Reinhardt just punched out of here in the light cruiser,” barked a trooper from the front of the building. “Unclear what happened to the other craft.”

  Watkel turned her attention to the news at hand. “Okay, let’s do a slow round up of his remaining troops and then carefully, carefully, inspect the remaining craft.”

  “You anticipate that they were damaged or booby-trapped?” asked Raymond.

  “Well, you would expect otherwise from him?” asked Chloë. She was annoyed that Reinhardt had gotten away, but she was glad he was gone. It was a curious mix of emotions.

  “Do you need my help?” offered Raymond.

  Watzkel grinned, her triangular teeth flashing in the light while her stout tusks framed her face. “It would be best for you to stay with the two young ladies. But I do appreciate the offer.” She stared at him for a bit. “What is wrong, Lord Raymond?”

  Raymond allowed himself a simple laugh at the form of address. “I just feel bad that everything I was told about you as a people was wrong: it was jaded, one sided, and horribly unfair to you.”

  “Then blame your teachers. Experience has taught you otherwise; pass on the knowledge.”

  Raymond smiled. “Yes ma’am! I will indeed!”

  32

  Within the hour the trio found themselves back in the earlier dwelling. There were a few holes here and there, but the place felt much nicer knowing that the guards outside were now on their side. Raymond shooed away the Shukurae trying to help and carried Heather back inside by himself. Chloë helped with the doors, and they soon managed to get Heather up to her bedroom. Chloë sent Raymond downstairs while she slipped Heather into her nightgown and tucked her in bed. Chloë quickly returned to the lower level where she found Raymond patiently waiting. A quick smile and Raymond relaxed into a chair.

  “They said that of the three remaining ships, they can probably get one operational inside of a day,” Raymond began. “And if our tails still end up in a knot, they have a human heavy assault landing ship that will be here in eight days.”

  Chloë giggled at the thought of being around humans. They had no fur! A simple crop on the tops of their heads but were otherwise naked! She could easily let her childish emotions get the better of her, but she knew the humans were well respected for their craftsmanship, cunning, and technology. Only the Taiks of the Kulpgurie lands produced finer starships.

  “Just say it,” grinned Raymond. “We are all thinking it.”

  “Naked!” Chloë laughed. “I just can’t help it… furless, tailless, no claws, and they couldn’t smell things if their life depended on it!”

  “You forgot to add ‘night blind,’” grinned Raymond. “But in daytime their vision is actually much sharper than ours. Very good at details.”

  “Did not know that,” nodded Chloë a bit more subdued. “But there is a lot I don’t know it seems…”

  “Tell me about it!” interjected Raymond. “I think I’ve learned more in the last two hours than I did in two years at the academy.”

  Chloë grinned, glad that she wasn’t the only one out of her element. “So what is the plan?”

  Raymond thought for a bit. “Well, obviously we wait until Heather is better. Contact her parents to let them know she is safe. After that, things are open: do you wish to head back to the Highlands, or do you wish to go and see your mother?”

  Chloë smiled as she watched Heather slowly climb out of bed. The medic said she would be all right, but that didn’t diminish Chloë’s, or, for that matter, Raymond’s, concern for the giddy Highland girl.

  “Do you need a hand up?” offered Chloë cheerfully.

  “No, I’m fine,” replied Heather as she rolled out of bed and swung her feet under her. Two timid tests later and she carefully stood up, only to collapse back into the bed.

  Chloë laughed and grabbed Heather’s arm, and helped her to stand, “The first thing to learn, lovely Heather, is when to ask for help.”

  Heather grinned back sheepishly as Chloë helped her to a nearby chair, “Yes, ma’am.” Heather stretched and squirmed before settling into the chair. “What happened?”

  “What do you last remember?”

  “Um, sweeping someone’s legs and then a whole lot of pain!”

  Chloë made a motherly frown. “Apparently, you got yourself in over your
head! Watzkel said you soaked a plasma lance into the Live Steel armor of yours.”

  “Watzkel? She was the Line Centurion?” asked Heather as she rubbed her head.

  “Yes indeed,” replied Raymond from the doorway. “And you scared her horribly. Not that we weren’t all scared out of our wits ourselves.”

  Chloë smiled at Raymond and beckoned him into the room. He smiled and sat in a plump chair across from Heather.

  “You were scared for me?” teased Heather to Raymond.

  “He has hardly left your side for the last day,” replied Chloë.

  “I was out cold for a day?” asked Heather incredulously. “It shouldn’t have been that bad… I mean I got my armor up and…”

  “You took a square hit from a half megajoule plasma lance,” growled Raymond. “You should not have tried to soak that, regardless of your armor. You had determined that knocking the Shukurae over was enough to get him out of harm’s way; why didn’t you grapple him instead and pull both of you to the ground?”

  Heather started to look indignant, but quickly switched her mood as the practicality of his statement hit her. Finally, she offered a faint, “Ohhhh… yeah. That would have been a better choice.”

  “You have great skills, Lady Heather,” admonished Raymond, “but you lack the experience necessary to use them efficiently considering the high stakes game at hand. Don’t worry about other people; we have far enough of us worrying about you. Just take care of yourself. Heroes are fine; I’m just not going to have any dead heroes on my watch.”

  Heather stared at her feet, totally serious for the first time that Chloë could recall. “I guess that was kind of stupid, wasn’t it.”

  “You are a wonderful girl, full of talent. But you are naïve of the true dangers out on the battlefield. I don’t have half the raw talent you do, Heather. But I have tons of experience. Let us do our job.”

  Heather suddenly flashed a grin. “Okay, who is ‘us?’”

  Raymond permitted himself a quick chuckle. “The Shukurae and I.”

  “Those ‘hideous’ Shukurae?” teased Heather.