Fusion (Crimson Romance) (33 page)

With Cordis’ body being forced back to expose his neck, Soldar had taken the chance and launched horizontally over him. He had the satisfaction of smelling blood. D’uhr and Fornax writhed in the sand, some distance from each other. But he knew they’d try to get up no matter what injuries they’d sustained.

Behind him a woman shouted ferociously. Like some avenging goddess, she ordered a charge. He knew the command came from Lyra.

She loudly encouraged the crew to fight for their lives and freedom. He felt a rush of energy he’d never known. So many Condorians were sick that she’d instantly recognized the chance his launching attack provided. With the fight on, he heard the Condorians shouting at one another, and photon rifles began to fire.

The allies in this fight had a small chance to beat back the enemy. There might be a way for a few to escape to the interior of the ship and seal the hatches. But all that hinged on the servants and prostitutes doing as Lyra ordered. They’d have to charge the Condorians, lose many friends in the initial attack, then hold themselves together long enough to divide the enemy’s lines.

But would they have the courage to pick up any dropped weapons and fire them, or close in quick and fight hand-to-hand?

One thing was certain. If they cringed against the hull then everyone died.

Whatever else happened, there were a few allied fighters who could direct that battle. This included Lyra and Cordis, assuming his brother still lived.

Instinct for battle fired every muscle in his body. But he focused on the architects of this disaster. He looked for D’uhr and his son.

The Condorian officers and guards weren’t trained to think for themselves. Every decision of their lives was dictated by someone higher on the food chain. If he could take out the leaders, the minions might falter.

D’uhr pushed himself to a sitting position and screamed in agony as the open, clawed incisions across his face bled freely. One of his eyes hung loose from its socket. But if the smell of blood energized a shape shifted Craetorian, it most certainly strengthened a Condorian admiral’s inhumanity. Condorians were at their most brutal when severely injured, and Soldar finally understood why.

The rage
his
race had suppressed to keep from becoming so savage was what he’d tapped to shape shift. But the Condorians wore that fury and hatred outwardly, every day of their lives. They need do nothing more than perceive another being as an enemy or feel pain inflicted during a fight.

On D’uhr’s face, Soldar saw the glazed expression of a crazed despot who’d been utterly betrayed. He glanced to his left and his lips twisted maniacally. The vision of his son lying in the dirt, bleeding and struggling to get up, was the last nerve Soldar could have tapped. Caring little about those in his charge, D’uhr seemed to focus on what he wanted at that moment. The obsessive need for revenge was etched into his features.

With the cunning of the animal kingdom he represented, Soldar began to circle the admiral. His hearing was so acute that Cordis’ voice sounded in the melee, and he took heart in that deep, familiar tone.

D’uhr pointed at him with the index finger of one shaking hand. “You’re dead, Craetorian! No one betrays me. No one,” he rasped as he struggled to see with one eye.

This wasn’t the fight Soldar had envisioned, and some of his ire began to ebb.

With his sidearm gone, no photon rifle or bullying son to do his bidding, D’uhr was little more than a nasty swaggering thug. Under normal circumstances, his size and strength alone made him dangerous. But the man’s injuries aside, a slothful lifestyle had taken much out of the once vaunted admiral. He’d been living a hedonistic existence so long that he couldn’t even land a punch, certainly not one that would do much good.

D’uhr lunged forward.

Soldar stepped to one side and let him fall in the dust again.

The repeated sound of rifle fire wasn’t encouraging, but it strangely began to ebb. Even D’uhr noticed and angrily turned his head toward the Venus to find out why.

Soldar kept his eyes on D’uhr but the shocked and frightened look on the admiral’s face finally summoned his attention as well.

Injured, sick, or lifeless bodies lay everywhere. Some were Condorian, others were crewmembers, and a few were the hidden allied fighters smuggled onto the Venus. What riveted D’uhr and apparently everyone else was Aigean. She had grabbed a weapon from somewhere, aimed it shoulder level, and now stood right in front of Fornax. From her current position, she couldn’t miss.

The Condorians began to lower their weapons and back away from the melee. They knew what D’uhr would do to them if they got his son killed. The cellular disruptive sidearm stuck in Fornax’s face was one of the more feared weapons because no one survived a direct hit.

“This fight is over!” Aigean loudly announced as she turned her head to her left and stared D’uhr down. “Tell your men to throw their arms into a pile by the cargo bay. Have them put their shuttle fuel back into the Venus, return all the food, water, and drugs then back away from the hull.”

“There are rules of engagement which must be followed!” D’uhr furiously insisted. “My son needs tending. Look how he bleeds from his face and neck.”

“I will give you the same consideration you gave me,” she told him. “I was never a combatant, but was inflicted with your putrid presence when you captured my ship. I can assure you … I have no qualms about killing your offspring and then turning this weapon on you.”

Soldar felt his heartbeat begin to slow. If the situation remained in the allies’ favor, he could soon shift back. His anger would abate, with the need to ready the Venus for departure. It didn’t take any mind control techniques to see Aigean’s purpose. Even the members of her crew were already picking up weapons from dead or injured Condorians and placing them by the cargo bay hatch. She meant to take off and leave the Condorians stranded on Reisen Four. With no weapons or means for survival, they’d die slowly or kill each other off for what few containers of water they had on their bodies.

He lowered his head and tried to see himself as he normally was. He shifted back almost instantly. He even sensed his control of this new ability was getting stronger. The standoff was still in effect but it wouldn’t take much to shift again. All D’uhr had to do was move the wrong way.

A few long moments more and the admiral furiously gave in.

“Do as this filthy hag says!” he loudly commanded. “And be quick about it.”

“When my demands have been met, I’ll release your son back to you,” Aigean promised as Condorians hurried to do as D’uhr ordered.

Soldar was simultaneously elated and fearful.

One move the wrong way or one small misstep by any of D’uhr’s men, and the fight would be on again. If that happened, the odds would no longer be in their favor.

Though D’uhr had lost one eye, the cuts on his son’s body were deeper and hemorrhaging at an alarming rate. As the younger man walked slowly forward in front of Aigean, his eyes rolled wildly and he was barely able to stay on his feet. It was obvious he’d only remain conscious for a few more moments.

Even as D’uhr backed away so Aigean wouldn’t fire, Fornax fell into the dirt. Unfazed, Aigean simply pointed the muzzle of her weapon toward the back of the young Condorian’s skull. She shook her head at D’uhr when he would have come to his son’s aid.

“You Elderian witch! Let my son go now or I’ll — ”

“You’ll
what
?” she interrupted. “Have your underlings move faster.”

“Do as she wants!” he shouted.

Soldar stood his ground for the moment, but fear for Cordis’ and Lyra’s safety finally made him attract the attention of a robed, female servant. The small figure loped toward him and pushed the hood of her robe back. Gentis breathlessly gazed up at him.

Thankful the girl had come through the fight unscathed, he briefly took the hand she offered and began issuing his own orders. “Can you get on the Condorian shuttles quickly?

“Yes … many items the enemy stole from us have not been loaded,” Gentis advised. “For this reason I believe the guards left the shuttles unsecured.”

Recalling what he knew about enemy craft that had been shot down or abandoned when they could not be repaired, he put the knowledge to use. “They’re only short-range vessels, but they have communication capabilities that are sophisticated — ”

Gentis quickly nodded. “I understand your meaning, Soldar. I will make sure they are inoperable as well as any weapon delivery systems. If Admiral D’uhr wants off this planet he will have to wait until someone comes searching for him and his people. I will have every drop of his fuel transferred to the Venus, as Aigean ordered.”

“Good. We don’t want him to warn the command ship orbiting this planet. It’ll be all we can do to get out of here and avoid detection.”

When Gentis hurried away to complete her tasks, Soldar finally turned his attention to the bodies scurrying about. Some of Aigean’s crew held weapons on the Condorians as they, in turn, handed over their arms. More of the crew was trying to locate the injured among their dead comrades. Several began to weep loudly.

Now came the part where they felt the consequences of their actions. Brave as they were, wars always came with a heavy cost. Because they had finally chosen to fight back, at least some of Aigean’s crew had survived and might be free — if they hurried and made no mistakes.

He walked toward Aigean, but stopped far enough away to avoid being a distraction. “I’ve got to find Cordis and Lyra. Can you watch D’uhr alone?”

“I have been dealing with him alone for a long time,” she responded without taking her gaze off D’uhr. “He knows what will happen if he moves.”

Soldar nodded then turned away. His duties at that point were clear.

First, he must make sure the crew efficiently went about the tasks Aigean listed. Of particular concern was getting the weapons into the cargo bay so they couldn’t be used to fire on the Venus as she took off. Some of the photon rifles could take out a ship even the size of Aigean’s, if they were aimed properly.

But he was determined to get everything done
while
searching for his brother and the woman he loved.

Cordis was easy to spot. His brother held a sidearm on Condorians who were offering their weapons to the Venus’ crew. Most of the enemy was so ill it appeared they no longer had the stomach for a fight. Sounds of their coughing and vomiting filled the dirty air.

Soldar tentatively moved toward Cordis. He feared he might be dreaming and that his missing brother wasn’t among the fighters Aigean had hidden in the bowels of her craft. But then Cordis turned his head and their gazes locked.

When his sibling smiled and tears began falling down his cheeks, Soldar knew their meeting was no dream. He rushed forward to embrace his younger brother. Cordis quickly handed his sidearm to a robed servant so he could return the hug.

“I won’t ask how you got here. I don’t care,” Soldar whispered as he held his brother tightly.

Cordis returned the hearty squeeze then moaned loudly.

“You’re hurt,” Soldar muttered as he backed away and gazed down at the blood seeping through the front of Cordis’ blue robe.

“The wound is days old, my brother. It’s nothing incurred during today’s skirmish, though it’s opened up a little.” Cordis waved off the concern with one hand. “The med-tech cared for me well. But so you won’t pester me about my appearance in this sector, I came looking for you when you were reported as missing-in-action.”

Soldar tilted his head in confusion. “One of us is very confused.
You
were the one missing. No one heard of your whereabouts for months. I received messages to this effect.”

“Soldar … it was not I who was reported as missing. It was
you
. I used my influence with General Shafter to attach myself to an Earth ground division though I told Myranda and your mate that I’d been separated from my comrades and was unable to contact a Craetorian ship. I didn’t want anyone knowing I’d used the family name to come searching for you.”

Soldar blinked and held out his hands. “I-I don’t understand.”

“Soldar … Mother and Father have been worried sick. They and our sisters have sent numerous missives asking about your safety or any news of you. I was originally aboard a Craetorian ship about to be sent into deep space, to fight in another sector. But I knew you’d last had contact with the general and that all Earth ships would be ordered to converge on this planet. It only made sense that, if you were still assigned to Shafter, you’d engage the enemy on Reisen Four. I just didn’t know it would be aboard a pleasure craft that’d been overrun by Condorians!”

Soldar stood there staring at Cordis for a long moment. Something in his mind made connection to memories. Cordis wouldn’t lie about such a thing. There was no reason for his brother to fabricate anything.

“Your mate is a brave fighter, Soldar. You should have seen her leading the Venus’ crew into the fray. They would have fought demons from the Ascers Nebulae on her say so! She was magnificent.”

“Lyra!” He put his hands on Cordis’ shoulders. “Have you seen her? Do you know where she is?”

“The last I saw of her, she fought her way toward the bow. That was where most of the Condorians were fleeing. They were almost ready to give up in the face of healthy, energized combatants rushing them so unexpectedly. Your shape shifting had them stupefied. I only wish I could have joined you but I have never been able to tap into that rage as you do, and Aigean was not nearby to help me.”

Cordis’ hastily uttered words were confounding but the meaning of them could be sorted later. He had to find Lyra and make sure she was safe.

“Come with me,” Soldar ordered as he navigated his way through a sea of robed servants, prostitutes, and sick, dead, or injured combatants.

What he found minutes later made his blood freeze.

Myranda was kneeling on the ground shouting orders for drugs and bandaging. Her patient was a lovely girl, lying still and pale. She was stretched out beside the hull of the ship. Red dirt was filtering over her wounded body as the breeze began to pick up. A long gash, probably delivered by an incendiary pulse pistol, meandered down her left thigh. Bone and muscle was exposed to the filthy air. But the more serious wound was a huge hole in Lyra’s lower left side. Myranda had torn away what little her patient wore to expose the wound for treatment. A quickly applied pressure bandage wasn’t enough. The hole was large and the gauze originally used to patch it had soaked up all the blood it could.