Alien Mercenary’s Destiny by Mina Carter
13
“What do you mean sealed off?” T’Raal demanded, his voice ringing with a hint of anger. “This is a secured area and we have access as part of Princess Ameria of Kantar’s security team. It cannot be sealed off to stop us getting access to our VIP.”
Eric had never seen the big Warborne leader so furious. He stood toe to toe with the heavily armed and armored guard standing in front of the double doors between them and the secure area the summit was being held in.
They’d been separated from the three women—the princess, Zad and Red—when they’d entered the summit chamber and been rerouted another way. Now, though, it appeared they hadn’t been given access to the main lobby and refreshment areas beyond the doors in front of them. Behind them, members of the general public and press milled about, watching the unfolding scene with interest. It wasn’t often any of them got to see the Warborne in action, and they’d gathered themselves quite a crowd on the way here.
“I’m sorry. I can’t open these doors. We have orders.” The guard’s voice wavered but he held his ground. Just. Even Eric could smell the panic in his sweat as he faced down the annoyed mercenary.
Eric looked at the double doors behind the man. Single height, they looked to be whatever passed for steel around here, the dull silver metal stamped with the emblem of the Intergalactic Science Council.
They were also locked, some kind of ornate wheel mechanism in the middle of the doors, which was doubtless why Zero hadn’t just hacked the system to get it open. A mechanical element to the door was a definite stumbling block, especially when none of them could get to it without a blood bath. Not an option with so many windows, space just the other side, and civilians in the way. Eric had seen enough holo-films to know situations like this went to shit. Fast.
“You have orders to keep a security team away from the being they are protecting?” T’Raal demanded incredulously. “I’m fairly certain that’s against the summit’s terms and conditions, which, I might remind you, bind not just attendees but also the summit organizers. I’m also fairly certain it’s illegal to put the personage of a member of royalty at risk that way.” He’d raised his voice, making sure that the press behind them heard. Eric glanced over his shoulder. Just like back home, the moment they sensed a story, they’d begun to circle like rabid sharks.
“It is,” Beauty growled on the other side of Fin from Eric. “In forty-three systems, this one included.”
T’Raal kept his gaze locked with the guard, raising his eyebrow.
“I…I can’t. We have orders from General Kaler. He said his team were close protection for the princess and you were under his orders to remain out here.”
“What the fuck? We are not under General Kaler’s orders. We answer to Her Majesty and Her Majesty alone.” The mercenary leader’s voice rose, the note in it advising that violence was about to become not just a possibility but a bloody and brutal probability.
“Do you really think the princess would have gone to the trouble and expense of hiring the Warborne to have us sit out here with our thumbs up our arses?”
“I…” The guard paled beneath his helmet and faceplate as T’Raal took a step forward, going nose to nose with him. His voice was lethally soft.
“I’ll tell you what you’re going to do. You’re going to open this door and let us through and I won’t have my cyborg companion here rip your spine out so our doctor can analyze how weak it is. What do you say?”
Eric leaned toward Fin. “Remind me never to piss him off, okay?”
“Oh, he’s not annoyed. Yet,” Fin stage-whispered back. “This is him playing nice. He always gives them an opportunity to see the error of their ways before he has Zero turn them into space jam on a wall.”
“That was… not an image I wanted.” Eric wrinkled his nose.
“Believe me. It’s not pretty,” the Navarr admitted. “Have you ever seen intestines that have been pulverized? I mean, I’ve a worse sense of smell than a Kestarian with a cold, but even for me it’s disgusting.”
The guard made a small sound in the back of his throat. It could have been a whimper of fear, or his higher brain cells fritzing out. Eric wasn’t sure.
They didn’t get the chance to find out because Zero cleared his throat and spoke. “Boss. Contact from Zad on a nonstandard frequency. The shit’s hit the fan. They’re pinned down in there.”
Eric’s heart stalled in his chest, ice sliding down his spine. Zad was in trouble. She was stuck without backup, and people were shooting at her. Trying to kill his woman.
A vicious snarl worked its way up from the center of his chest, his grip tightening on his assault weapon. He’d kill them. He’d kill them all. Every single one of them.
“Move. Now,” T’Raal ordered, slamming a large hand onto the guard’s shoulders and shoving him out of the way. “Zero… Tank. Get these doors open.”
“Our pleasure, boss.”
The Warborne parted like a sea as Zero and Eris, piloting her suit, stepped forward. The heavy machine guns mounted on their shoulders rotated on their mountings and locked into place. Eric was glad of the tiny, plug-like ear defenders they all wore as they fired at the door. Within a minute it gave, reduced to molten metal. Eris stalked forward and slammed an armored foot into it, sending it flying off its hinges.
Without a word, the Warborne surged through the gap, keeping to their fire pairs. Eric stuck with Fin as they raced through the outer lobby. Already they heard the sound of firing up ahead, beyond the next set of doors. Zero kept up a stream of information.
“Inner lobby is compromised. Our girls are pinned down in the middle of the lower floor, just outside the main chamber doors…”
The doors in front of them loomed large. T’Raal and Beauty at the front barely broke stride as they fired at it, the matchwood construction standing no chance against their combat shotguns. At least, that’s what they looked like to Eric. He didn’t bother to ask about the difference from Earth weaponry, not that he’d had any experience with it anyway.
“Hostiles at ten o’clock, half eleven and twelve as we enter,” Zero continued, his deep voice easily heard over the comm. “Upper-level sniper already neutralized.”
Then they were at the door and there was no more talking. No more thinking. He poured through the door with the rest of them, the only thought in his mind finding his targets and taking them down. One look at the scene told him the girls were safe, sheltered behind a table as they fired back at their attackers. For a brief second, he spotted Zad, her expression determined as she didn’t take her eyes off what she was doing. She fired at the enemy as she protected the princess with her scale armor fully in place.
The air filled with bullets whizzing past his head as he turned to join the attack. He and Fin raced for the nearest group of the assholes. There was no cover, so they made do with a zigzagging run at their enemies, firing all the time. He got clipped, fire drawing a line across his upper arm, but he carried on. He could still use the hand and the arm, so it was fine.
His eyes narrowed, stinging in the smoke as ballistic weapons fire mingled with the high energy charge of laser weaponry. It didn’t matter. With a roar he and Fin leapt up three rows of seating to land in the middle of their enemy.
Snatching a rifle out of one alien’s hand, Eric fired at the other one on his side, leaving him slumped against his seat as he pulled the other into a hard hold against his chest. Dropping his rifle back onto its sling, he gripped the guy’s jaw and twisted savagely. He was already moving before the body hit the floor, his glittering gaze fixed on the next opponents and the next until no more were left.
Finally he stood near the top of the bank of seats, his chest heaving and blood running down his arm from where he’d been hit. Silence filled the room, deafening him after the noise of the fighting.
“Everyone okay?” T’Raal called out, his voice sounding pained and croaked. “Sound off.”
Eric called out his name in sequence, relieved when everyone else sounded off. They hadn’t lost anyone.
“Secure the perimeter—”
Eric moved with Fin to secure the upper level of the lobby. He tried and failed to catch Zad’s eye to smile at her, swearing under his breath as she looked away pointedly, her nose stuck up in the air.
Fin noticed and chuckled dryly. “Brother, it’s going to take a lot more than a near-death experience and a few smiles to crack that wall of ice.”
He sighed, running his hand through his hair and making it stand up in spikes. “Yeah, I know. No fucking clue where to start, though.”
Fin shook his head and snorted. “Try an abject apology, on your knees with pretty things. Lots of pretty things. One thing I’ve learned with females is that you’re always wrong, even if you’re not. Just start apologizing and it should be okay. Or she could just eat you whole. I’ve heard Krynassis queens do that to lovers who piss them off.”
Eric stopped walking, staring at Fin’s back as he walked off chuckling.
Eric was screwed, so screwed. And not in a good way.
So not in a good way.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Red and Zad exchanged glances as General Kaler stormed into the lobby, a horde of Kantar commandoes at his back. His expression was thunderous as he looked around, ignoring the chaos and carnage to glare at T’Raal. His face flushed purple as he stormed over to the mercenary, now sporting a red weal across the front of his throat to match Beauty’s.
“I gave explicit instructions for you to be barred from this chamber. What the freck are you doing in here?”
She and Red moved as one, keeping the princess safely behind them as the rest of the Warborne quickly converged on the lower level. With hard faces and harder eyes, they watched the general and his men. Their body language was tense, but no one made a move toward their weapons. They were awaiting a sign from T’Raal to rain hellfire down on the asshole general.
Zad’s blood boiled. Where had this vaarker been when the three of them were getting cut to ribbons?
“Oh yes… let’s talk about that, shall we, General?” Merry’s clear voice cut through the tension in the room as she stepped forward. “Are you telling me that you barred my specialist protection team from waiting for me outside the summit chamber?”
“Not at all, Your Majesty,” the general replied smoothly, his tone slick. Zad’s lip curled back from her teeth and she didn’t stop them. Kaler was an oily vaarker and she wouldn’t trust him as far as she could throw him. He was an asshole operating on his own agenda, whatever that was. “I have your listed protection team right here. This… ragtag mercenary unit did not have the right access permissions to be in here.”
The princess folded her arms, her eyes flashing fire. Mentally, Zad high-fived her. Perhaps the egghead princess had some backbone under all that highfaluting intelligence and cutesy bounce after all. “And who was responsible for listing that security team?”
“My office, Your Majesty.” For a moment Zad thought that was it, that the princess had him bang to rights, but the general just shrugged and smiled apologetically. “Unfortunately, there was a mistake in the admin department and your original, highly trained, kantar assault team was listed instead. By the time I was notified of the error it was too late. I rallied them and got here as quickly as I could.”
“Not quickly enough,” Red snarled, surging forward. Only Merry’s small hand on her arm stopped the bigger woman. “Your princess nearly fucking brought the farm because you lot couldn’t get your pricks in a row.”
“Ducks,” Sparky murmured, somehow right next to Red.
“What?” She frowned at him, distracted for a moment.
“It’s ducks in a row and spare pricks at an orgy,” the human added helpfully.
“Whatever it is,” Merry’s voice was cold, “you have a lot of explaining to do, General. My father will certainly hear of this, and he will not be amused.”
“Of course, Your Majesty.” The general bowed low. “Please, let me and my team escort you safely to your transports.”
“Not a chance.” The princess huffed, her nose high in the air. Even with her dress in tatters and dirt smudged on her face, she had an aura of power and regality about her. “I will have my protection team, the Warborne, do that since they have already proven they can protect me, having already saved my life once today.”
She stalked past the bowing and scraping general, her shoulders held high. T’Raal signaled to the team to close in around her. They did, moving like a well-oiled machine. Zad tucked herself in on the left side of the princess, ignoring when Eric tried to catch her eye. His face was pinched with worry and his arm covered in blood. Her insides twisted, every instinct she had demanding that she go to him and make sure he was okay. She didn’t. Instead, she looked away, her jaw clenched. There was no way he wanted an animal to show him any concern. He might be worried she’d lick the wound or something instead of getting him proper medical care. Besides, they were working and she didn’t have time to check out every single booboo. He was walking, appeared clear headed and using his weaponry right, so he was okay.
Tank clumped to get in front of them and she concentrated on the faint whirr-click whirr-click of the human’s exosuit. The crowds in the corridors parted to let the big machine and the group huddled around the princess pass as they moved through the corridors.
Red looked over her shoulder in concern at T’Raal.
“You okay?”
He had lines of pain and tension around his eyes, but he nodded. “Yeah.”
“He was just jealous.” Beauty grinned from the other side of the group, rubbing a hand over the vicious scar at the front of his throat. Now that she knew he was a Seratovian, the sight of it sent a shiver down her spine. For it to scar that badly on him… it would have decapitated anyone else. “Thought he’d get a matching one. I’m touched, boss, trying touched.”
T’Raal flicked him the bird, and the group dissolved into chuckles as Zad turned back to face front. She hadn’t missed the concern from all of them when they looked at their leader. They really did care for him.
The more time she spent around the Warborne, the more she realized why they had such a ferocious reputation. T’Raal Verran had taken a rag-tag group of beings, most of them harboring massive issues with authority, and melded them into a fighting unit that made the rest of the galaxy quake in terror.
“Okay, shuttles one and two are in the corresponding locks but three is on airlock nine for some unknown reason.” Zero commented softly, his voice dripping with disdain at the odd grouping.
“I’ll take three,” she offered. It was the backup shuttle, mostly containing the Kantar troops that had been stood down for the Warborne to take their place.
The others called out their assignments and the group started to peel away.
Eric hung back, even though he was assigned to shuttle one with the princess. His expression was tortured as he took a step toward her.
“Zad, sweetheart, please. I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean what I said—”
She cut him off with a sharp slice of her hand, stalking off to her shuttle assignment. She was alone, but she didn’t mind. It would give her a little breathing space away from the rest of them—and more importantly, away from Eric—as she tried to decide what the hell to do.
Yes, a berth with the Warborne wasn’t to be sniffed at, but they weren’t the only mercenary team out there… and she didn’t think she could see him every day and not remember what they’d had. It would be utter torture. Worse than living on her mother’s hive ship and knowing her parent wanted her dead. At least her mother could only kill her once. Seeing him every day would mean her heart would break over and over again.
So what if he was her consort, and had called her armor? She’d survived without it before. Shards, she’d survived the worst possible situation, the fight pits of Tarviisa, without it. She would survive without it again. She didn’t need armor and she didn’t need any male, especially one who thought she was less than he was. One apology didn’t make things right, not at all.
She was so caught up in her own thoughts that she wasn’t paying attention as she walked through the open airlock. Three strides in her steps faltered as the smell of blood hit her. Her nostrils flared as she slid her blaster free from its holster and stepped to the side of the door. The airlocks were wide open, both doors cycled back. The interior of the shuttle was in darkness. Clicking her tongue, she tried to activate her comm, sure that Zero was still monitoring the frequencies hers ran on. She got an earful of static back.
Vaark, they were jamming the comms. She paused for a moment. She should go get backup, but a crew had been on this ship. Crew the blood belonged to. What if some of them were still alive? If she left, they might not be alive when she returned with help. She might be their only hope, and she couldn’t leave anyone to die alone in the dark. She’d faced that fate herself, and she wouldn’t condemn anyone else to it.
Decision made, she slid to the edge of the door, her steps silent on the deck plating. It took a lot of experience to move completely without sound, but when you faced off in the arena with a Cvarrick, a being whose hearing wasn’t just good but verged on the preternatural, you either got good or you got dead. Zad had gotten good. Very good.
She moved around the edge of the door, slicing the air with her pistol to cover all angles, and stepped quickly into the darkness. It took less than half a second for her vision to adapt from the brighter light out in the corridor to night vision, and she caught her breath as the scene of carnage inside the shuttle came into view.
The Kantar had been slaughtered, every single one of them. Their bodies lay in a haphazard pattern, crumpled in corners and slumped in seats. She frowned. They looked like they’d been cut down where they stood or sat, with no evidence of a fight. Like they’d been caught unaware. Her frown deepened, a cold chill washing up the back of her neck and lifting the fine baby hairs there. While not on the level of the Warborne, the Kantar were still an elite commando unit. Who or what would be able to cut them down so quickly and easily?
The slightest whisper of sound brought her head up. She whirled around to find herself face to face with the biggest, ugliest-looking male she’d ever seen. Her eyes widened at the greenish-grey skin and the gnarled tusks.
Holy fucking vaark. The Tanel were supposed to have been wiped out tens of generations ago. What was one doing here killing Kantar commandoes?
He snarled, raising a massive fist. Before she could react, it slammed into the side of her face, sending her tumbling into darkness and she knew no more.
