by L M Lacee
Darby exclaimed. ‘Yeeha… Gotcha you dirty rotten scumbags.’
Heather admonished Peyton. ‘Do not let her watch anymore of your vids.’
‘Why is this my fault?’
Melody snorted. ‘Because scary girl, it just is.’
‘So not fair!’
TWELVE:
The night of the meeting with the Commander arrived without fanfare or any outward appearance to warn the world that lives were going to be changed forever.
The four women had discussed every conceivable scenario from the Commander not coming. To the four of them being arrested for treason or, as Melody pointed out repeatedly, killed by a firing squad.
Each woman dealt in their own way, with the knowledge that they were committed to a decision which would have far-reaching consequences. Not only for themselves, but for all the women they were responsible for. Now they stood ready in the lounge of Peyton’s home. Each of them so different yet united, in their determinism to succeed and save as many people as they could from a life of servitude.
They had chosen to wear loose trousers and long tunic tops, which boasted openings from knee to hip on either side. Making movement easier and for Melody a less cumbersome way to reach her weapons. Not that they thought they would get the chance to use them, but nothing made Melody feel better than a set of guns strapped to each thigh. For Peyton, a gun holstered at her ankle and one tucked into the waistband of her trousers just felt right.
Taking a deep breath in as a ship appeared and seemed to hover over the lawn at the back of their house. Peyton let it before saying. ‘Okay, ladies, we can do this. Just remember we have something that they need, want and don’t know they need or want. We, on the other hand, know what we need and want.’
‘That is a lot of needing and wanting.’ Melody drawled to Heather, whose eyes filled with laughter replacing the look of fear that had stared out at everyone for the last hour.
She nodded and said. ‘I have noticed she gets in the way of talking sometimes.’
‘I think, it is the excitement.’ Darby stated. ‘I have seen it before in subjects…’
Peyton glared at them and snarled, cutting Darby off. ‘Are you quite finished?’
Melody looked at the other two. ‘Yep, I would say we are.’
Peyton shook her head. ‘So bad, all of you.’
Then they fist bumped as one and all said together.
‘We. Can. Do. This.’
Turning toward the large glass doors overlooking the backyard, Peyton watched the craft or shuttle, whatever it was called, settle on her lawn. She thought as she studied the ship she should really try to remember the names of the vehicles. The trouble was, there seemed to be so many vehicles.
Melody had told her this craft was used only for ground movements, or she thought that was what she said. She tended to zone out when she became bored. But she was fairly sure this one could not go into space, or maybe it was the other kind, the sharper looking one. She had seen that one flying around a lot. There was also another smaller shuttle she had seen, which was sleeker and prettier looking. It was white and black and only carried twenty people, if she remembered rightly the Ambassadors and Dignitaries used them.
Regardless, this one landing on her lawn was gunmetal gray and shaped like a football. There were no discernible windows or doors that she could see. Logic told her they must have one unless they beamed in and out, she thought about how great that would be.
Her expression morphed into a frowned when she saw the dents on her lawn from the large disks that appeared on the end of the ship’s legs.
‘My lawn bots better be able to fix them.’
‘Like you care.’ Melody muttered back.
‘I care.’
‘Sure you do.’
‘Enough you two.’ Heather scolded them, her nerves making her voice sharp.
Peyton went back to looking at the shuttle as she remembered what else Melody had told her. Apparently it had two pilots and could carry up to fifty people. She was not sure how many of the Warriors it could carry, it did not really seem large enough for fifty Warriors.
The women had learned a lot about the aliens that were about to enter their home, if Peyton was honest and she always tried being honest with herself and others.
Thanks to Darby and her merry band of cyber-hackers, they knew just about everything there was to know and things that nobody should have ever found out about the Warriors.
She stood surrounded by her friends, who seemed like her to have taken a breath and forgotten to release it. While they watched one man after another, walk down steps that had magically appeared from the craft.
She was not sure if it was her or one of the others that let a small whimper of appreciation escape. When the last of the Warriors stepped onto the grass.
Suddenly a giggle filled the room, they all turned toward Heather, who had slapped a hand over her mouth. Unfortunately, the damage was done and before they could stop it; they were all giggling like teenagers.
Nerves jumped from one to the other like a bush fire, turning in on itself and getting stronger by the second. Finally, after a minute, that seemed like an hour.
Melody held her hand up as she enlisted all her army training to get herself under control. ‘Okay… okay, ladies, on a count of three. One… two… three. Deep breath in and hold it, now out and again.’
Peyton could see as each of them took in the cleansing breaths, the tension leaving their bodies and their expressions relaxing. When she felt the nervous energy ease from the room, she sighed in relief and knew they were ready.
She waved her hand around as she said. ‘Right, now that’s out of the way. Melody you are on.’
Bracing herself, Melody squared her shoulders and went to admit the men or aliens whose lives she and her friends were going to change for better or worse.
She placed her hand on the door handle and bowed her head. Saying a prayer to whoever listened that this was the right course of action for them all. She knew, as did the others, that only time would truly tell whether following Peyton in this mad scheme was justified or not.
Crossing her fingers, she hoped with every fiber of her body she was making the right choice. No Pressure then.
Darby asked quietly. ‘What is she doing?’
Heather answered just as quietly. ‘Praying.’
Confused, Darby asked. ‘Why?’
Heather replied as she said a quick prayer herself. ‘Because it helps.’
Peyton said. ‘Praying won’t help now.’
Darby snorted. ‘Did it ever?’
Heather sighed. ‘For some of us.’
Peyton grinned as she said innocently. ‘Some people get relief from prayer.’
Darby breathed out through her nose and said. ‘Only if you believe in that sort of thing. I have found the belief in deities…’
Melody cut her off. ‘No… no arguments, no discussions, just no.’
The two friends eyed her to see if she was really serious and decided she was, and by mutual agreement decided to table the discussion for later.
Heather gave Melody the thumbs up and she replied with a small smile. Then closed her eyes once more and sent up another quick prayer. Lifting her head, she relaxed her tense face muscles and kept what she hoped was a smile on her lips. And not something that could be mistaken for a grimace of fear.
THIRTEEN:
With one last look at her sisters who had backed farther into the lounge, she opened the front door and looked up and then up some more. Dear God, why had no one told her they were so large? They had muscles on muscles and did someone say tall… She looked up into the face of a man that made her want to sigh with delight.
Her next thought almost made her giggle as she wondered if they would have to walk into the house sideways, just to get their shoulders through the door. Maybe they should have met in a barn. These men were just that big, and that was saying something. She had trained with some sizeable men, but none
like these.
‘Ahh… hi!’ As an opening greeting, it was lousy, and the feminine groans that came from behind her did nothing at all for her confidence.
She had offered to meet the Warriors first because she had been a General and not much disturbed her. She was, as she told the other three women, known for her courage under pressure. Unfortunately, all that deserted her when she opened the door.
One of the men looked down at her and she noticed he had a long scar from just below his right eye to his jawline. It did not detract from his looks one bit, neither did his eye color, in fact, they only added to his overall appearance. He quirked his top lip up and said in a voice that was made for winter nights in front of an open fire.
‘May we enter?’
‘Umm sure… yeah good idea.’
Melody nodded as she backed away from the door and was positive she saw one of the other males hide a smile. These males did not look at all like the Jenersar Warriors, Darby and Heather had reported to her and Peyton about. She was unsure what she expected, but seeing them up close. She was hard put to reconcile these men with being slaves or believe they were often used in trade and hired out against their will.
Darby had stated they were sometimes used for guarding cargo and dignitaries, or at least anyone who could pay the exorbitant charges their Emperor demanded. She saw how they could be used to quell planetary wars and for world control. Which is what they were here on Earth for, to enforce control of the populace. Darby’s report suggested they were owned by the Jenersar Emperor and that he had final say in what the Warriors were or were not used for. It seemed that this assignment was a good-will opportunity for the Emperor to show the Coalition he was still a team player.
FOURTEEN:
Commander Roeah walked into the dwelling behind his Warriors and looked at the females. Two were tall by human standards. The other two were not much taller than young ones, he had encountered on other worlds. They looked soft, not like the one that had met them at the door who held herself with discipline. Then he looked into the green eyes of the smallest female and saw how they blazed with something not of this world.
Intrigued, he indicated his Warriors should enter further.
Melody cleared her throat, causing every eye to turn to her. ‘If you will come this way.’
She and the other three women led them into the huge kitchen that seemed to shrink in size as the men entered. Their physical presence was almost overwhelming. Peyton and the others watched as two of the Warriors split off and went into each room of their home to search for whatever Warriors searched for.
The same scarred man that had asked for entrance waved what looked like a wand around the kitchen and then over each of them. Darby had told them the Warriors would more than likely search for any hidden surveillance devices. So Peyton had asked her to remove all her tech, wanting everyone to have the feeling as well as the actuality of security.
Heather could not help herself, like the others she found her eyes drifting over each male more than once. They were just so handsome and truthfully, even though she had met many men over the years, she could not remember any looking like these. The scars that one or two of them carried did not hinder the impression of desirability, nor did the fact their eyes were black and there appeared to be no sclera. How she wondered was the possible and how had she missed that in Darby’s research.
Melody and Heather were both around six foot tall, and each of the Warriors were taller than them by at least eight inches or more. They were, as Darby would say designed to be Warriors.
Peyton looked at each of them and silently sighed, these amazing men were enough to make any woman sigh with delight. Although she could not forget they were created for war. It would remain to be seen if they could be anything other than a deadly Warrior. Because, if her plan worked, she could see no problem with the Warriors finding someone to marry them. She imagined women would line up for the chance to be with these men.
Looking up into the eyes of the males, she wondered if their black eyes with the ring of color would be a little disconcerting for women. She did not find it so, but not every woman was like her.
They also may find their piercing, unblinking stares frightening; she felt this was something they would have to work on, to make them seem friendlier, already she could feel Darby’s unease.
In the report on the Warriors they had all read, Darby and Heather had found that the ring of color was to denote the Warrior’s creator. However, Peyton had her doubts about this, regardless of what was documented. She had looked through all the stolen data from the Jenersar scientists and could find no mention of the substance that caused the ring to occur. Therefore, she concluded it was either a flaw or a result of combined stands of DNA.
Darby postulated it was more than likely from a substance, which had been purposefully introduced to the embryo. For what reason, she could not say.
Peyton believed her grandmother when she told her the eyes were the window to the soul. She had spent her life reading truths and lies in people’s eyes, but as she gazed at the males. She was unsure if indeed it was the eyes she had been reading. Especially now, as she stared into the blank eyes of the males standing before her. Maybe she thought she had been wrong. Suddenly it was as if a veil was lifted and Peyton could see into the depths of the Warrior’s souls, discovering a truth almost too terrible to look upon. The scars of grief and lost hope, which only those that had accepted their fate carried within their souls, spoke to her.
Until five days ago, she had seen that same look in her own eyes as well as the eyes of her friends, since the Virus had decimated their world.
Peyton felt a sigh sweep through her mind as something in her heart and soul that had been at war settled. She now knew what she was about to do was right, for the people in her care and for the Warriors.
It had taken determination and a lot of faith for her to get a flash-drive to the Commander of the Warship. And until tonight, she and the others were not sure if the invitation she had issued would be enough to get him here. But here he and his men were, standing not three feet from them.
With a nod from Peyton, Melody smiled and offered. ‘Gentlemen, if you would please take a seat, we will get down to why we are here.’
FIFTEEN:
All four women pulled out their chairs and sat waiting for the men to do the same. Hesitantly, the two older males sat as the two younger men stood against the far wall.
Peyton nudged Melody, who grunted as the elbow she dug into her ribs stung. With a quick look of retribution for later, she cleared her throat and instantly every male stared at her. A less confident person would have quailed under the pressure, not Melody, she quashed any of the apprehension that threatened to surface and steadied her voice.
‘First, do you all speak and understand our language?’
When she got nods from them all, she carried on. ‘Okay, so good evening Warriors, we thank you for coming to our home.’
The Warrior who had entered last and was so obviously the highest ranked, acknowledged the greeting with a slight nod of his head. Not in deference or respect, Melody thought, but then not a brush off or insult either. She would take it for what it was, an understanding that they were here and would listen to the human.
‘We also wish to thank you for your willingness to speak to us.’
This time the nod was accompanied with an eyebrow lift and was easy to read. It was a thank you, now hurry. She cleared her throat once more and said.
‘I think it would be a good idea to introduce ourselves, so I will go first. My name is Melody James. I am thirty-one years old and I am recently retired from the army. My rank was Lieutenant General.’
She indicated Peyton and introduced her. ‘This is Peyton St. Hill. She is twenty-five years old and is now the unofficial Mayor of our town, Runnerdale. Sitting on my other side is Heather Wilson. Doctor, or as you call them healer, surgeon and researcher. She is also aged thirty-one years old. Next to Peyton
is Doctor Darby Kline, she is twenty-nine years old and is our resident genius and specialist in everything else.’
The man who had first walked in said. ‘I am Kerol Naihal, second in command to Commander Roeah.’
He was tall at least six foot eight and very muscular with blond almost white hair that had a few brown highlights, his eye ring was blue. He indicated the silent man beside him. ‘Our Commander, Hawk Roeah.’
This male was square faced and looked as if he had never smiled in his life. He had a calculating look in his guarded eyes. Sometimes Darby saw the same look in Melody’s eyes. She thought maybe it had something to do with being a General in the military. Although that explanation did not explain the same expression she saw in Peyton’s green eyes on occasion.
The Commander made her feel uncomfortable, although he was handsome with the gold eye ring and long black hair. Maybe it had something to do with him being older than the one named Kerol, and much more intimidating. Once more she hoped Peyton knew what she was doing.
Melody thought the Commander was exactly what a male who oversaw an off world force should be. Guarded and suspicious with the presence of power only a person in his position carried. She thought he wore the weight of command well.
Kerol said. ‘Behind us is Warrior Lukkas Naihal.’ The name told the story of the male standing against the wall. He was an almost identical copy to his brother in height, weight and muscle, minus the facial scar and brown streaks in his hair. It was obvious he was younger than Kerol, and his eye ring was blue as well. Heather wondered if the color of the ring matched because they were related or created by the same scientist. She would have to ask, maybe they would know.
Kerol finished the introductions as he said. ‘The other Warrior is Willian Devet.’
He was young, if not younger than the Warrior named Lukkas, but that was all that was similar about the two males. Willian had long black hair with distinctive brown streaks, his eye ring color was red and at first glance quite startling. He was nowhere near as muscular as the other Warriors, it was almost like he had been ill, although he was still very broad in the shoulders and chest. Melody bet he was recovering from injuries, it was in the way he held himself. She had seen that kind of stiff wariness in soldiers who had been subjected to prolonged trauma. Almost as though their bodies remembered pain so intense, they suspected, that if they moved quickly or in the wrong way, they would experience it again.
