He felt parts of his body respond magnificently. Except for the absence of a left cheek mark, she could be any woman on his world.
More to the point, he had hadn’t seen a woman of
any
race in more than a year. If the Condorians had gotten their hands on this one, he couldn’t imagine what she’d have suffered.
Thoughts of his sisters, his mother, and other kinswomen came to mind. If anyone had touched them the way the Condorians would have ravaged this stunning creature, he’d have butchered every last one of them no matter how long it took.
How could Earthers allow their most prized citizens into the middle of battle? Were they really as foolish as others claimed?
He’d seen their men as gallant fighters. Why would they so risk their women? Why would this questioning beauty be in this Creator-forsaken wilderness, fighting all alone and with no hope for survival?
“It’s clear there’s something wrong with your communicator,” she told him. “There are no markings on your uniform but I know damned well you’re no Condorian.” She suddenly coughed to get a thick layer of dust out of her throat and mouth. When she recovered, she tried to communicate her intentions. “Look … I’m checkin’ outta here. You can try to get back to your unit or you can follow me. That second option is best since two of us are more likely to survive.” She raised one gloved hand and pointed toward the cave entrance. “We … can’t … stay … here. It isn’t safe. Those Condorians might be back and the sniveling cowards will come with company. Do you understand?”
He remained silent. His mind just wasn’t absorbing her presence. Something deep in his head told him she wasn’t supposed to be there. He kept searching for an answer to her presence but his intuition revealed nothing.
“Leave or stay … what’s it gonna be?”
He mentally shook himself back into reality and finally responded.
“The Condorians are all dead,” he electronically blurted in perfect English. “They didn’t call for backup or reinforcements would have been here by now.” His helmet speaker blocked more of his voice than hers had. His mouthpiece made his response sound quite automated.
It was her turn to be taken aback. He saw her brows rise. Her pretty, bow-shaped lips fell open, probably shocked to hear him speak her language so proficiently. He was still struck by the twisted situation. Her presence was wrong. He couldn’t dispel the shock of it.
Finally, he haltingly raised his hands and considered removing his helmet. This Earther might have never seen a Craetorian’s face. His people were ordered to keep their helmets on and speak as little as possible to allied brethren. It was thought that fraternization might prove demoralizing. His superiors believed it was hard enough watching those from one’s home world die. How much more difficult would it be to have troops inflicted with the site of newly befriended, slaughtered allies. All this considered, the circumstances surrounding his presence — and hers — called for creativity. His mission came first. He must do what he must. She wouldn’t find his face shocking. His features would be the same as her human countenance with but a singular difference.
• • •
Lyra couldn’t place his armor or helmet at all but that really wasn’t unusual. With so many different worlds fighting the Condorians — whose silver and metallic armor was arrogantly meant to be visible — it didn’t matter where any allied warrior originated. All that mattered was that they kept fighting.
There were a few planets, including Earth, whose dignitaries and generals regularly conferred as to battle plans. At Lyra’s low rank she wasn’t privy to their strategies. She just took orders. So if there was a new, friendly race in the battle she welcomed their presence. It wasn’t as if the enemy was running out of fighters.
When her comrade took off his helmet, Lyra barely saw his face in the half light. He seemed to realize his body was shadowed and quickly stepped into a brighter area. This was how she got her first good look at a race that was at the front of every battle. She’d heard of them but had always been sent to fight in areas they weren’t present.
“I’m Colonel Soldar Nar, Fifth Planetary Pulsar Unit for Craetoria. At least, my rank translates to Colonel in your language,” he announced.
She shook her head in vague recollection. Earth English was rumored to be one of several dialects spoken on his world. Since it was the most universally broadcast, a lot of other races used it. His unexpected familiar greeting made her feel easier. It was a relief to know that neither of them would need any translation devices.
“I’ve heard of your race,” she congenially acknowledged, “but I’m afraid I’ve never seen one of your people, sir.” With that being said, she’d still have recognized the piercing eyes and long blond hair that spilled onto his shoulders when his helmet was removed. The black slash mark originating from the corner of his left eye down his strong cheekbone bore further proof of his heritage. That feature was one of the Craetorian attributes about which her Earth colleagues regularly gossiped. As they’d described, it
did
look exactly like a black electric bolt.
“Where is the rest of your platoon?” Soldar asked.
She briefly lowered her gaze.
“I see.” He gestured to the empty cave around him. “My insertion team met the same fate when we landed. I heard the howling of those brutes chasing you and knew some allied fighter was their target. I took position in this cave and waited, but you’d turned to fight off the whole pack by yourself.” He waited for her response, but she made none. “I apologize for having incapacitated you, but it was necessary. As I said, I don’t believe they had time to call for backup or we’d have been attacked.” He sighed, pushed his hair away from his face, and turned his head away to spit dust out of his mouth. When he gazed on her again, his words conveyed his admiration. “You’re quite the bold one, Sergeant. The cowards had you at seven-to-one.”
Lyra snorted. “Sir, couldn’t you have just called out that you were here? Then we could have taken that pack together.”
“I hadn’t time. And I’m not supposed to be seen by anyone, not even one of the allies. I’ve told you, I was part of an insertion team. I’m under top secret orders. That means
you’re
under those orders now.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m pulling rank, Sergeant. General Elias Shafter sent us here. I’m in his command. That makes me, as ranking officer, your superior. And no, you may not ask why an Earth general is issuing orders to a Craetorian colonel.”
“Christ! I don’t even want to guess,” she readily confirmed as she straightened her body armor and shook her head in amazement. “Whatever the hell is goin’ on … I don’t mind you being responsible. I’m just here to fight.” She shrugged and stared up at him. “So what’re our orders?”
“I suggest you get some rest. We sit tight for another hour. Then we move due east.”
She watched him lean against a far wall and toss back the thick blond hair that, even in the dim light, draped down his body like a shimmering cloak. She surmised his helmet would be back in place before they left the cave, otherwise that glowing pelt would be plainly visible in the half light of the Reisen Four evening. The presence of such long hair was another unusual characteristic of his race. Locker-room gossip had bestowed some very godlike characteristics on his people.
Was it true they were stronger than almost any other ally and could fight like madmen? Could they go without water for days, and did they have no problem eating rodents and insects they found under logs and rocks?
She tried not to smile as she recalled other, more intimate gossip concerning his race.
Was it true they made love with all the stamina of a photon infusion engine? Were they able to please their partners so thoroughly that their mates stayed by their sides for life?
She looked away before he caught her staring, but lifted one hand to her own short locks. They were matted and dirty. She was sure they didn’t shine the way his thick mane did.
When she’d first left Earth as a cadet, she’d had her entire head completely shorn. Over the years, she’d let it grow and now kept it below ear length. It fit uniform codes, was easy to maintain, and didn’t obstruct her view. Nobody out here cared what she looked like. Even the Condorians didn’t give a damn. That she was a woman was enough for them.
For some odd reason, she wondered about the women of
his
world. Was it true they were as tall as the men? Did they crave Earth chocolate so much that they’d really smuggled it through blockades?
She shook her head. The inappropriate nature of these queries was obvious. What did any of that matter? None of them would live long since the Condorians couldn’t be stopped. There were so damned many of them. They’d taken over almost half the galaxy and were on their way to finish the job.
As she leaned against a wall and slid to the ground, she looped her hand on her now empty holster. The hole where her weapon
should
be made her go rigid. She gazed down at it and felt her heart begin to pound.
“Son-of-a-bitch! I lost my sidearm. It’s still out there somewhere.” She stood and quickly began to search the immediate area around her before making her way outside the small cave.
“You didn’t lose it,” he advised as he pulled her weapon from under his armor. “I picked it up after rendering you unconscious. I only had three volleys and hoped you had more. Luckily you did.”
“Sir?”
“I took out seven Condorians so we now have two volleys left. Both of them are in my weapon. The men chasing you had no remaining laser power. It appears they intended to do you in with one of these.”
He showed her a long knife within his right boot top, then carefully handed back her empty sidearm.
She angrily slid her empty pistol back into its holster. The top of the Condorian blade she’d liberated still stuck out of her own boot. “I know you must have been firing fast, sir, but couldn’t you have left me one round … in case I get caught?”
“Master Sergeants who lose their weapons don’t deserve spare rounds.”
She scowled. “Sir, you clearly saw my uniform. You could have stood beside me and helped. Instead of acting like any other ally, you rendered me unconscious, emptied the only weapon I had, and are now insinuating I was careless in losing my sidearm. I hardly think that’s a fair summation — ”
“Cool off, Earther. It was a joke.”
“By the way … what
did
you do to me?” she asked as she rubbed the back of her neck.
“I used a lateral vascular neck restraint. I think that’s the politically correct term nowadays for a choke hold.” He smiled. “Its effects are only wearing off, or you’d have been questioning me about my actions sooner.”
She put her hands on her hips and glared at him.
“I am sorry about taking you to the ground,” he apologized. “But when I grabbed you, you turned to fight. I had a few seconds before that pack came barreling down the canyon. I didn’t have time to answer questions.”
“I suppose this is the part where I’m supposed to thank you?”
“Your sarcasm isn’t welcome, Sergeant. I should have left you safely in this cave, coming back to consciousness on your own, without seeing me.” He shrugged. “I had a surge of conscience and couldn’t leave a comrade alone in this wasteland. You’ve seen me now and I’ve conscripted you for a mission. My actions make me responsible for your safety.”
“Really? I thought that was
my
job.”
“Get over it,” he shot back. “We’re a team now, whether either of us likes it or not. But to set the record straight as to your ability to look after yourself, I require an answer to just one question.”
“Sir?”
“Why did you run into a canyon with no outlet? Were you not properly briefed about how many were present in this area? You’re a supervisor. Did you not check maps before landing to fight?”
She rolled her eyes and let out a long, frustrated sigh. “Okay … I made a wrong turn. I screwed up!”
“I can live with the explanation, though you may
not
have. Let’s just say we’ve both had better days. You and I have survived to learn lessons.”
“What lessons?”
“You won’t run into dead-ends … and I won’t lose my weapons, inclusive of all the ammunition, or my entire team!”
He stood, angrily thrust his helmet back on his head, and stalked toward the cave entrance. Once there, she saw him gaze outside.
She finally understood.
He was feeling guilt over surviving. When she’d run toward him — being chased by Condorians bent on peeling her skin off — he saw his chance at vengeance. She’d just been in his way.
This cave, wherever it was, was probably the place where he and his team were supposed to have waited until later in the night. Then, they’d probably have gone about finishing whatever mission they’d planned. But, like so many plans the allies composed, nobody could maneuver against twenty-to-one odds. As she saw it, they were both lucky to be alive.
She almost let the incident go. However, her rescuer now had two shots in his weapon. He’d used hers on the enemy and that situation had to be addressed. She pulled on her helmet and approached him once more.
“Sir?”
“What now, Sergeant?”
“If we get caught you’ve got all our firepower. Will you make sure they don’t take me alive?”
He turned his helmeted head toward her. “Count on it, Sergeant Lyra Markham!”
The corners of her mouth lifted.
His powerfully worded promise to see her die painlessly was acceptable. They now had the makings of a team. For however long they lasted.
They trudged past the bodies of the Condorians Soldar had killed and into the night.
Lyra automatically reached for the side compartment in her hip armor. But once she opened it, grabbed the marked flask of water, and recalled she’d emptied the container hours ago, she angrily shoved it back. She had enough bio-tabs to clarify any kind of cesspool. There just wasn’t a drop of even foul water in sight. Nothing lay before them but rocky, sepia-toned hills and shadowed dirt.
Soldar stopped, opened his own armor compartment, and offered her a fresh water flask. “Stop here. We’ll rest a while.” He pulled his helmet off as he spoke.