Warrior's Valor (34 page)

“I'm so glad, Mother,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. “So very glad.”

“Child...” Dahlia's voice drifted off, only to return with a sharp undertone. “What's that sound? That faint buzz. Damn, those machines are back.”

The communicator went silent, and Kellen tapped the sensor several times before it became functional again. “Leanne, Emeron. Go back to the southeast end of the clearing. Mogghy and Owena have set up a perimeter there.”

Static sizzled from the communicator, and then Leanne's voice returned. “We're on our way. Six bots are performing a search grid and we can't take the shortest route. We have to maneuver under the densest foliage.”

“Affirmative. Keep the civilians safe, Commander.”

“Naturally. D'Artansis and D'Artansis out.”

Even Kellen had to smile at Leanne's attempt at humor, which she took as a good sign, since Leanne was normally facetious only if she was in an optimistic mood. Rae, on the other hand, tended to use the humorous approach when circumstances were horrible.

“All right. Let's return to the clearing. Owena and Mogghy will probably need all the help they can get to keep both bots and mercenaries at bay.” She began to walk, but stopped suddenly and gazed at Kellen with eyes turned silvery gray in the twin moonlight. “We found her. We found her, Kellen.”

“Yes, we did. And now we have to hang on to her and keep her safe until backup arrives, then take her back with us.” Kellen wanted to embrace Rae, but knew this wasn't the time or the place. They could indulge themselves later, when they were all safe. Kellen touched her gan'thet rods, taking comfort in their presence. She was an expert with all types of weapons, but the rods never failed her.

“Come on, then.” Rae smiled faintly. She had opened her mouth to say something more when the now-so-familiar whining buzz drowned out her words.

The bots were back.

*

Dahlia forced her heavy legs to keep running, following in Leanne's erratic zigzag pattern to try to fool the machines, which the others called bots. The large orbs buzzed around them, and sometimes the noise they made was pierced by colorful beams that burned holes in tree trunks and set more than one bush on fire. The forest lit up, making it easier to see where they were going. Dahlia was afraid, however, that the light might also make it easier for the bots' ocular sensors to determine their position. So far the zigzag method seemed to work, but she wasn't sure she could keep up much longer.

The young woman with the long blond hair, Dwyn, seemed even worse off. She needed the Cormanian law-enforcement officer, Emeron, to help her keep her balance. They were last, and Leanne kept glancing back to check on them.

The path they were on widened and now Leanne picked up speed, running more in a straight line than before. “We'll be there soon,” she said, gasping, “just a few more minutes.”

Dahlia began to think she wasn't going to make it. Her legs felt completely uncooperative and each new step was like wading through syrup. The smoke around them made her cough and she was desperately thirsty again. She had emptied all of Leanne's water, but it wasn't nearly enough.

They rounded a cluster of trees and Leanne stopped, holding up her hand. She placed a finger over her lips as she pulled out her scanner. Emeron and Dwyn caught up with them, and Emeron flipped open her scanner as well.

“The mercenaries are still grouped in the far southeast corner. Our people are fifty meters away, approximately, to our left. Let's get behind the tree line. You up for it, Dwyn?” Leanne asked. “I'd rather not leave you behind and risk not finding you later.”

“Dwyn wouldn't be alone,” Emeron said starkly. “If she can't make it, I'll stay with her.” It was obvious to Dahlia that Emeron harbored strong feelings for Dwyn, who in turn shook her head determinedly.

“Let's go,” she said, and would have sounded more convincing if her voice had been more audible.

They moved slowly the last fifty meters. Dahlia could still hear the bots, but they weren't coming any nearer and she wondered why. What were they waiting for? It was obvious that the people behind them wouldn't give up. Another few steps later, their small group ran into one of the marines patrolling the perimeter. He saluted and guided them to the tall group of trees that provided some protection from the bots.

Dahlia looked around, trying to make out her daughter's features, but couldn't find her. She had turned to Leanne to ask, when a hand on her shoulder stopped her.

“Mother...Mom?”

Dahlia pivoted, exhausted, and would have fallen if the strong arms of her daughter-in-law hadn't caught her. Kellen stood next to Rae, who in turn was smiling tremulously. Dahlia, the master of rhetoric and negotiations, found no words. Standing there, looking at her only child, she realized at times during these last few days she'd thought she'd never see her family again.

“Oh, Mom.” Rae wrapped her arms around her, kissing her cheek tenderly before she hugged her tight. “I've sent word to Dad, but I don't know when he'll receive it.” She pushed Dahlia back at arm's length and looked at her closely in the light of the moons that were rising above the treetops. “Are you all right?
Really
all right?” She held Dahlia tight again.

“I'm fine, Rae. I'm tired, and as I said, a bit sore, but I'm fine
now
.” It was true. Suddenly her exhaustion, thirst, and fear meant nothing. Her daughter was in her embrace, and her new daughter, Kellen, was standing next to them, smiling. Dahlia extended an arm and Kellen willingly allowed herself to be hugged for a few seconds.

Rae finally let go. “As much as I'd like to revel in our reunion longer, we have things to take care of. I'm not sure how long reinforcements will be, or if they'll come at all, since communications in and out of this forest are dicey at best—”

“Ma'am, look,” Leanne said from where she stood with Owena's arm discreetly around her waist. She pointed toward the sky where a band of lights indicated an approaching vessel.

“Is that our backup?” Dwyn murmured. She was propped against a tree, breathing shallowly.

“One ship?” Rae said slowly, and Dahlia knew her well enough to be concerned about the wrinkles marring her forehead. “No. I don't think so.” She pulled her plasma-pulse rifle from her harness and flipped down her visor. “Saddle up, people,” she called. “Prepare to engage the enemy.”

Dwyn stared at the lights in the night sky. Corma's two moons highlighted the ship's sharp edges, and the piercing lights around its belly hurt her eyes. Blinking away tears, she stood as the SC military unit and Emeron's team got into position.

“Dwyn. Here.” Emeron tossed her a smaller rifle, a short-barreled energy-destabilizer. It was as powerful as a plasma-pulse weapon and had a longer reach. “Keep Yhja and Trom safe. Take Diplomat Jacelon too and hide behind the trees, and don't let them out of your sight.”

Dwyn coughed as she gripped the weapon. Yhja and Trom had already crawled behind the cluster of tall trees that formed a semicircle, hiding their heads against their pulled-up knees. Dwyn regretted that they had needed to bring the youngsters, but she was determined to keep them safe or die trying. Dahlia joined them, a sidearm in her right hand. She nodded at Dwyn, looking worried.

“Are you all right?” Dahlia asked. “Let me know if you want to switch weapons. That one looks heavy.”

“Thanks, but I'm fine, ma'am.” She suppressed another coughing attack.

Two junior officers carried M'Ekar to a safer spot next to Yhja and Trom. The former ambassador didn't stir, and Dwyn wondered if the skeletal man was already dead.

The vessel hovered briefly, but nobody opened fire. She suspected the ship's shields were too impenetrable for mere plasma-pulse rifles. She stood half-hidden behind a tree, watching Emeron as she prepared for battle. Dahlia took position on the other side of the trunk.

Tall, and with her hair like blackbird wings around her cheeks, Emeron stood at the front of the SC unit, her weapon raised and ready. Dwyn knew that as long as Emeron was able, she would carry out her duty to protect her and the others.

The ship touched down on struts that looked deceptively fragile. A ramp opened, and the mercenaries ran half-bent toward it. Rae gave the order to engage, and two of them fell.

“They're getting away, ma'am,” Owena yelled over the noise from the ship's propulsion system.

“No. They're about to engage,” the admiral answered. “They're not giving up.” Looking back at her mother, she barked orders. “Make a ring around the civilians. Don't let these criminals anywhere near them.”

The marines and the junior Cormanian officers changed positions, standing in a semicircle in front of the trees. Oches stood between them and the forest to forestall a stealth attack from behind.

Some of the mercenaries had entered the hovering spaceship now, while some stood on the open ramp located at the aft section. The noise from the vessel increased and it seemed to tremble impatiently where it stood, and then it ascended, only a meter off the ground. Slowly it advanced toward them, and Dwyn drew a deep breath. Was it going to ram them or shoot at them? Surely they couldn't protect themselves against such an assault?

“Stand your ground,” Jacelon roared. “Open fire.”

Plasma-pulse rays coursed through the night, bouncing off the vessel's shields in a cascade of white flashes. The ship neared and pushed Jacelon and Emeron's unit back against the trees.

“No. Stand your ground,” Jacelon shouted again. “Aim for the sensitive technology on the roof.”

Dwyn knew that many smaller vessels had less shielding around their sensor array, since a dense shield bubble could give false readings. Larger ships didn't usually suffer from this dilemma, but this ship was smaller than the one that had crashed into the Disian village.

She suddenly straightened her back so quickly it snapped, making her fully alert. The strange lull of fatigue that had clouded her mind for the last few days because of the lung injury disappeared. She looked at Oches, who kept firing upon the ship, his normally jovial face austere and focused. Trom and Yhja huddled, and Dahlia was shooting at it as well, clinging to the tree as she did so.

Suddenly Dwyn had an idea, born from a childhood memory when she, her parents, and their entire collective had been stranded on a mining planet for weeks because an electrical supercharge had accidentally incapacitated their vessel. If she could copy the circumstances, she could possibly disable this ship. If it didn't work, only quick intervention from the SC could save them. But it didn't seem as if that would come soon enough.

She ducked and ran just inside the bordering bushes, trying to travel far enough to get behind the ship. Apparently, the mercenaries focused all their attention forward, on the SC units. The vessel tore up grass and dirt as it used its propulsion system to remain horizontal. She estimated that it now hovered approximately two meters off the ground. She prayed it would keep that distance, or she would be crushed. Even now she risked getting caught in the turbulent air, which could easily propel her into the nearest tree or, worse, slam her into the fuselage.

She crouched as she ran, squinting at the whirling dust. She coughed and knew this might be the last straw for her lungs. The possibility of Emeron being killed, together with her new friends, who'd risked their lives to keep her safe from the bots, ignited her. She tugged at her collar and tried to pull it up over her mouth, to filter some of the dust out. It still filled every crevice on her face and found its way into her nose and mouth.

Afraid she'd miss this chance she slipped under the spaceship's starboard fin, where the air was hot and turbulent. She struggled to remain on her feet, clutching the weapon in her cold hands. If she dropped it, she wouldn't get a second chance.

The downdraft sent her almost to her knees, and she blinked furiously in the whirling dust that stung her eyes. Finally she reached the center of the ship's belly and looked up. Six narrow struts were still extended, and Dwyn knew the ship's captain would land soon.

To her right, one of the struts came at her faster than she'd counted on. The ship was turning, directing its port ramp toward the SC units. She threw herself to the ground and rolled onto her back with the weapon directed straight up toward the vessel's underbelly. When the strut passed above her, she blazed at it. The shields held, but she kept her finger on the trigger sensor, hoping the weapon was fully charged. The destabilizer beam chewed away at the shield, and she thought she could see the typical dark outlines that were sometimes visible when a shield was about to be compromised. Blackish-purple sparks rained over her, scorching her hair and prickling her face.

Suddenly the strut base began to crackle and she smelled burning electronics. A hydraulic hose severed and, seeing that she was actually causing damage, she kept firing. Her arms ached and she could barely see, but she refused to stop.

At first she thought the hum in the air and the sense of high density around her had resulted from what she was doing. She greedily drew new breaths, but the air had become almost liquid. Panting, she fought to keep the destabilizer weapon up, even if it was now radiating so much heat her hands hurt.