Authors: Nena Duran
“All, I need to know is what really happened and your part in it.”
How could he put into simple words the story of his deepest shame? He’d arrived at the
Toq’ma’lal
as a wide-eyed warrior fresh out of the learning matrix. He’d trained hard and secured a spot under Security Chief Mah’yanna’s elite warriors. His family had been so proud of his appointment. He was the first one to be accepted into the armada. Even though they belong to the warrior class, they served as ground forces and council security.
During his days as a cadet, he’d used all his spare time to hone his skills. Soon others took notice, including his instructors. One of them had secured him a post on board the
Toq’ma’lal
. He’d met Gaal’ya about a year ago when she’d joined the communications team.
He’d allowed his weak mind and heart to become entrapped by her lies. Manipulation and deception went both ways. When the time had come to honor his family’s mating treaty, he’d run like a coward. He didn’t want to give his first born to anyone but his true love.
Too late he’d discovered she’d only used him to obtain the branded couple’s confidential information. Worse, she was already pregnant. When he’d arrived at the station, Gaal’ya had been preparing the way for the attack.
He hadn’t known it then, but had found out later that she’d been working with a Labonian. Together, they’d disrupted the sensor grid. The ro’traal had entered his chest almost as if in slow motion, the sharp blade slicing through him. She’d attacked him when he’d tried to stop them. Despair filled his heart now that he’d finally seen her for what she was—a traitor.
After gathering the last of his strength, he’d managed to activate the link and send the Kreeh-nosh’s prerecorded message. They’d programmed it to play forty-eight hours after the assault. Groo’lat had sent it shortly after they’d left, hoping the Protectorate would stop them.
“So, you were the one responsible for the transmission?”
Groo’lat was fascinated as the spikes retracted back into the commander’s arms. “Yes, I activated the remote link. There was no time to waste, Security Chief Mah’yanna has been taken. I need to rescue her before it’s too late.”
“We know. The entire council witnessed her capture.” The commander’s voice trembled with emotion.
“I still don’t understand what she was doing there?” It wasn’t a secret she was scheduled for the purification at T’ae. Some even claimed she was going to permanently mate First Commander Dru-lah.
“I came back recently with intel of a coordinated attack. The council sent my sister to investigate.”
“Your sister?” Could it be possible after all these years? He’d been declared dead after the
Q’alor
had been ambushed by the Kreeh-nosh.
“Yes. I’m Bah-Troy of the house of Prahn-kril.”
Frackk, he was the commander who’d taken on two colony ships to save his crew. His deeds were legendary among the cadets, but how had he survived the enemy’s brutality?
“Then you have the right of swift justice. I will meet death with honor.”
“Warrior, I’ve lived with self-loathing and hatred for too long. The enemy robbed me of my life and family. They experimented on me, turning me into a violent unfeeling monster. That all changed thanks to the tender care of my mate. I’ll grant you the same opportunity the goddess gave me—a chance at redemption.”
The commander was letting him go, but not on his own. He was being transferred to the
Q’alor
II
under Dru-lah’s command.
“You have my eternal gratitude, commander. I’ll fight the enemy with the last ounce of my life.”
“Hmm, a bit dramatic, but well said.” On his way to the door, the officer added, “Oh, by the way, Tha-lah is going with you. I’ll make it an order if it makes you feel better.”
His laughter followed him all the way to the lift. Never in a million years would Groo’lat have thought the other had a sense of humor.
Chapter Eight
Friendship
Groo’lat trained day and night for two long days, trying to ignore the urge to seek out the female. Her name kept popping into his mind. Tha-lah. He’d been so angry he’d injured two warriors.
“Whoa there, dude. What has your panties in a bunch?” O’frahm ribbed goodnaturedly.
He was the jid’rahal’s mate’s personal guard and friend who’d volunteered for the mission.
“I think someone needs to get seriously laid.”
Xy was the over-sexed Galadonian prince and Briq’s best friend. In his own words, he loved a good fight and a good fracking, not necessary in that order. Plus, he had a score to settle with T’zaal.
“I see you’ve picked up some of the jid’rahal’s mate’s strange speech.”
Groo’lat remembered how odd some of the things she said sounded. At first, he’d thought it was a translator malfunction until another warrior explained double entendre and humor.
“Yup, and I heard you had piloted the cruiser on the wormhole mission.”
Groo’lat caught the look that passed between Xy and O’frahm. What were those two up to? “Yes, I was there when we rescued the Earth creatures. We didn’t know at the time that a sentient female was on board.” He remembered the rumors that had circulated. All the warriors had been taken by the little female and her unique looks. Most of them, that is. He’d only had eyes for Gaal’ya, and she’d betrayed him.
“Ah, but did you know another earth female was taken by T’zaal? She’s now Commander Briq’s mate.” Xy told him about Gigi, and how she’d tamed the wild beast raging inside the warrior.
“Enough history lessons. Come, let’s go to a booty shaking session. I hear there’s one going on now,” O’frahm exclaimed, holding Groo’lat in a headlock.
“Yes, as I’ve always said to Briq more frackking would make someone happier.” Xy joined them, pushing him toward the door.
He didn’t want to go to hip-hop sessions, nor did he desire a female warrior. He wanted Tha-lah, but she wasn’t a surrogate. It’d be easier if she were, because they could draw out an agreement and exchange credits. She was a wandering priestess on top of it all. Trac’xian females weren’t like warriors. Someone could hurt them if handled too roughly. He still didn’t understand what her allure was that stirred him so.
Groo’lat didn’t have the time or the inclination to deal with such nonsense. He’d wait until he felt a strong need, then seek out one of his own for sex sparring. Besides, sex was the last thing on his mind right now.
It was no use. He was growing impatient by the minute. To make things worse, Xy used a move they called the bump and grind on one of the elite. She was a very attractive female with a muscular frame. At another time he’d be competing for her attention. Now all he could think of was the softer body of a certain priestess.
“C’mon, Groo’lat, show us your moves.”
He backed away from the female warrior, pumping his right fist. She enticingly stepped closer to the beat of the music. The warriors clapped loudly, praising her skills.
He almost made it to the lift when the annoying pair caught up with him. Frackk he was so close to a clean getaway.
“Come with us,” O’frahm said with a growl, pushing him into an empty store room.
“Why won’t you leave me be? I want nothing to do with your hip-hop session.” He was mad enough to momentarily forget who he spoke to. One of them outranked him while the other was a prince. What was the matter with him?
“Commander Dru-lah chose you to pilot the
Rag’mar
. We wanted to clear your head before the mission, that’s all.”
It was a common practice among male and female warriors to engage in sex sparring before combat. Warriors not only formed better friendship bonds, but became a better fighting unit.
“I apologize for my outburst, Commander O’frahm, Prince Xy.” Until Gaal’ya’s double cross, he’d been a happy, easygoing male. He’d loved to fly his small shuttle around the mountains of Pendo’rah.
“Pft, don’t get all formal on me. I hate when people start treating me special.” Xy actually snorted and rolled his eyes at him. The entire display was so unsettling he didn’t even know what to say.
“I’ll be honored to pilot the ship if the commander thinks I’m ready.”
The
Q’alor II
was staying behind with most of the crew to guard the Kreeh-nosh ship. A small unit of elite warriors was heading the rescue mission.
Rag’
mar
was Briq’s private shuttle and well known in the badlands. By the time anyone realized it, the strike team would be in and out with Security Chief Mah’yanna safely secured on board.
“Friend, some of us might not make it back, and that’s fine with us,” Xy said in an uncharacteristically somber moment. “We need every advantage we can get to defeat this bastard, and you’re it.”
“Yeah, according to Commander Dru-lah you’re one of the most intuitive fighter pilots out there,” O’frahm added, looking him over curiously.
“I’ll not let you down. Security Chief Mah’yanna is my commanding officer, and I owe her greatly.” Plus, he blamed himself for her current situation.
“I respect your choice not to sex spar, but it’ll be good if you seek out a member of the team.” O’frahm meant well. Sexually satisfied warriors performed better during combat.
“I know you worry about the team’s bond, but I’ve served with most of them before. Besides, I’m still healing and can’t risk a relapse.”
No one must ever know he’d lost all sexual desire for his females. Maybe in time, but for now he wasn’t physically attracted to them.
If he didn’t die during the mission, he’d probably go to prison. Once there, he’d never have children unless a female expressed her desire to procreate with him.
“I still think you should get some good frackking,” Xy insisted. “Why don’t we ask one of the elite to go easy on you?”
“No, that won’t be necessary. I’m fine, really.”
Besides, all she’d get out of it would be a limp appendage. He hadn’t experienced an erection in days. Maybe he should consult the Glaxian medic.
Or see a certain priestess
, the little voice inside him mocked.
“Ah, I see.” O’frahm smiled knowingly. “Trac’xian priestesses’ abilities are unsurpassed.”
Was his attraction for her that obvious?
“She’s very beautiful. I was thinking of asking for a healing session later on.” Xy smiled, showing his sharp fangs.
“You’ll stay away from her, frackking pervert.” He growled, pivoted around and rushed to the lift.
“How can I? She’s coming with us, isn’t she?” Xy yelled, but the lift doors were already closing.
If she thought for a second he’d let her come along, she’d be disappointed. Why had Commander Briq insisted on putting her in danger? It was just too risky having her on board.
Risky for whom?
that little voice inside his mind whispered again.
Chapter Nine
The Joining
“Priestess, there’s much we need to discuss.”
Tha-lah jumped back to avoid being trampled by the large warrior barging in. Underneath his angry exterior, she sensed an undercurrent of despair and guilt.
“Please come in, Groo’lat. It’s so nice of you to stop by.” His body was tense, his energy unfocused. She knew right then he couldn’t successfully pilot the mission.
The AI was for the most part in charge of a ship’s navigation. When it came to a combat mission, a live pilot was the best option. True, the AI could perform quadrillions of calculations simultaneously, but it lacked the disposition a real being had. An AI was, after all, just a program without real emotions or reactions. It could anticipate moves, suggest a course of action, but it couldn’t react intuitively. Groo’lat was an instinctual pilot. His response time was almost perfect.
“This isn’t a social call, priestess.”
She sighed inwardly. He kept calling her that, as if by virtue of her title he could put up a barrier between them.
“Tha-lah.” She squared her shoulders, preparing for a long argument.
“What?”
“I told you before. My name is Tha-lah.” Her soft tone belied the frustration she felt.
“Sorry, Tha-lah.” He frowned. “I insist you stay here. The Badlands is no place for you.”
An argument would be pointless in this case. The instinct to protect was deep rooted in a Pendo’rahn warrior.
“You’re mistaken. The Badlands is the perfect place for a priestess of the most gracious goddess.” There was no sense telling him their fates had been entwined since she’d rescued him. She could be as obstinate as he.
“We’re not on a mission of mercy, priestess. We’re mounting a rescue operation. I can’t afford to be distracted.”
The only way past his reluctance was to tear down the wall he’d erected between them. Tha-lah wanted him. Her touch could heal his broken heart.
“Commander Briq gave approval.” She loathed pulling rank, but he’d left her no choice. “Are you willing to disobey orders?” His reaction was so unexpected she hardly had time to catch her breath.
One moment she tried to reason with him, and the next, she stared at the cold glint in his eyes. All her dormant desires surfaced, overcoming her with their intensity. She had to gain control of the situation or risk losing the prospect of helping him.
“I’m well aware of the nature of this trip, Groo’lat.” She’d whispered his name softly, hoping to establish some intimacy.
“Then why do you insist on coming along?” he ground out, backing her up against the wall.
“Security Chief Mah’yanna will need my healing abilities when we get her back.” Goddess only knew what horrors she’d been through. Tha-lah didn’t care how strong Pendo’rahns claimed to be. A shattered mind was difficult to piece back together. The longer it stayed fragmented the harder it was to heal.
“We have the best gly-urq in the twin galaxies. You don’t need to risk your life.”
“I don’t perform physical healing, Groo’lat. I heal the mind and soul,” she patiently explained.
“The security chief comes from the strongest warrior line in Pendo’rah. As the elite’s chief, she trained to withstand capture and torture by the enemy.”