The team engaged their chameleon cloaking armor and, on Yaeger’s signal, they darted out of the darkness and descended upon the Hegemony agents guarding the entrance. Before the agents could fire off a single shot, Comron and Yaeger hit the first two guards with powerful but silent blast shots and made quick work of the others with blindingly fast knife work. The team scrambled forward, and Jibsen moved in with his tools and silently worked the locking mechanism, as the fallen agents had no keys on them. Within seconds, they were inside the compound moving like lethal shadows down the stairs with blast rifles hefted high and ready. When an unsuspecting guard rounded the corner, Comron cut off his cry of alarm with a silent blast shot between the eyes.
The schematics told them that the royal family was being held down at the far end of the compound where at least two more men guarded the doors and three were inside with them. The element of surprise would be their best weapon. Comron sped down the dimly lit hall like a dark specter, a silent blur of death. He hurled a skiver; it hit the far wall then bounced back smashing into the furthest guard’s face. The others were a second too long regaining their wits. Comron was upon them, slashing both their throats with a single swipe of the blade jutting from the tip of his blast rifle.
Yaeger was already leading his men into the room adjacent to the one where the hostages were being held. Comron watched as Jibsen threw a transparent mapping blanket onto the wall. It spread out and clung to the surface. Jibsen tapped a control on his arm and the blanket came to life giving them a visual of the hostages and guards on the other side of the wall. The eight hostages huddled against the far wall, the mother and two daughters were still weeping over the recent loss of their servant companions. Wet blood smears on the floor bore witness to the recent executions, the bodies had been dragged from the room. One of the guards stood near the door, one at the rear wall, and the other two were leaning against the side wall with their backs to the extraction team. All held high-powered blast rifles, though set on stand-by mode according to Jibsen’s readouts.
One of Yaeger’s other men was fast at work using a phase torch to drill silent holes into the wall where they’d plant the explosives. The plan was simple: blow a big ass hole through the wall, grab the hostages in the chaos. Get the hell out.
They braced themselves, securing their blast shields over their faces. Yaeger gave the silent count down. The place shook from the blast, but they quickly dashed through the hole into the room of stunned and disoriented guards, dispatched them swiftly, and grabbed hold of the hostages.
The girls, mere adolescents, cried in terror and clung to their mother. Ahmed’s sons, all young men in their early twenties, peered at them with large dark eyes amidst the dust. Their expressions were hopeful but cautious.
“Who are you?” said the eldest. “Did my father send you?”
“We’re taking you to your father, but there’s no time for questions,” Yaeger replied, grabbing him by the arm. “Come on, we’ve got to get you all out of here.”
Comron and the others gathered the rest of the family and led them out into the corridor.
Comron moved to the front of the procession. This went easy, almost too easy. Surely the Hegemony wouldn’t surrender their prized hostages so easily, not when the survival of richya was at stake. He signaled to Vaush that they had the hostages and were on their way back to the transport.
As they were reaching the end of the hall, Comron signaled for them to slow down as he peered around the corner and up the stairwell. Just as he did, the door burst open and a band of armed soldiers poured through the door.
Get them out of here! Comron signaled emphatically to Yaeger. An exit at the other end of the compound was their only escape but Comron had to hold off Grusonious’ agents to buy them some time.
As Yaeger’s team hustled the hostages off, Comron backed against the wall with his blast rifle drawn. Moving quickly, he switched off the silencer and shifted the mode to automatic fire. He unlatched the tripod, set it on the ground, clicked on the motion sensor, and then backed away just as the first man reached the bottom of the stairs.
The soldier’s body convulsed rapidly under fire, and the next two ran into the same barrage of blast fire. Comron kept backing down the hall holding a blast gun in each hand, keeping them aimed in the direction of the pursuing agents. Ahmed’s family had to make it out alive at all cost. He tapped at the monitor strapped to his arm, and he saw the blue lights moving against the orange screen indicating Yaeger’s team was still inside the compound.
“Come on, Yaeger, move!”
The soldiers quit coming but Comron heard something metallic clanging down the stairs. Had they thrown a grenade down? No, the sound pattern was too rhythmic and there was a distinct hydraulic gear sound. Soon he had the answer to his question as he saw the red eyes of the mechanical dog’s head peer around the corner and whip it back before the blast gun could shoot its head off. There was a strange whirring noise and then Comron’s blast rifle suddenly shut off, the lights going black.
Shite! The damned dog had hacked the system and shut it down. Now it came from around the corner in full view accompanied by its twin. Their metallic skeletal structures stood over a meter tall at the shoulder, titanium teeth designed for grabbing and holding glistened with hydraulic fluid. If those jaws clamped around a limb, they’d snap it like a twig. Comron could not allow them to reach the hostages!
“Yaeger, you’ve got to them out of here now!”
“We’ve reached the exit,” Yaeger replied in his headset. “Where the hell are you?”
The canine units stalked closer. “On my way!” Comron turned and took off running down the corridor at essence-enhanced speed, but the mechanical dogs still had the advantage on four hydraulic legs. As he sped along, Comron could hear their metallic paws scraping the hard floor as they closed in. At this rate, they would be on him in seconds. He fired a round of blast at them, but they dodged or deflected them, and it was only slowing Comron down. The dogs would be upon him in seconds.
Timing it just right, Comron turned just as the lead canine leapt at him. Using its momentum, he grabbed the neck rods and slung it against the wall with enough force to damage the gears, causing the unit to sputter and scramble on the ground.
The other unit knocked Comron to the ground, pinning him down with hydraulic arms as its jaws came down, aiming for the throat. Comron grabbed its head, yanking it to the side as he pounded his fist into the metallic ribcage, ripping out wires in the process. But the canine would not be denied. It clamped down on the offending arm.
Comron howled in pain as the mighty jaws squeezed tighter. Another small appendage jetted out from its body—a plasma blowtorch fired up for the purpose of severing Comron’s arm. The heat built up painfully beneath his body armor and would burn through it in seconds if he didn’t act quickly. Using his free arm, he wrapped it around the dog’s body and gave his right arm a violent tug in the opposite direction. As anticipated, the dog refused to release him at the sacrifice of its neck rods. The crunch of the neck rods was satisfying as the metallic body seized up. Even then, he had to wedge a bar into the jaws to release his arm from the death grip. Before he could finish, the lead dog’s system had re-routed and was back on the attack.
“Enough!” Comron said, and withdrew an Ostako blade sheathed at his back. With his right arm still trapped, he rammed the sword deep into the unit’s chest and tripped the side blades, splitting the metallic chest apart. Another heavy swing and he severed the metallic head, and the red eyes blinked out to black.
“Hurry already,” Yaeger’s voice came through his com-unit. “You know she’ll have my ass if I return without you.”
“Right. On my way.” Comron stuck the Ostako blade into the metal jaws still clamped on his arm, he twisted the sword, and the mechanical jaws released his arm. “You just worry about the hostages.”
The second Yaeger’s team reached the transport with the hostages, Vaush helped hustle them inside and then searched the
m to confirm her fears.
Her eyes fixed upon Yaeger. “Where’s Comron?” the accusation heavy in her question.
“He wanted to buy us time,” he blurted out, already making for the door. “But I’m going back to get him.”
“You left him?” The word “again” was implied.
“Sit tight. I’m going back for him now,” he said, looking like he’d rather face a death patrol than an angry empress.
“No, you sit tight,” Vaush said, shoving him aside and leaping out of the transport.
“Hey, are you crazy?” Laney said, sprinting after Vaush. Yaeger was close on their heels.
In a full run, Vaush activated her chameleon camo and headed for the bunker. On her way she spotted a large tank rolling up to the same entrance Yaeger’s team had just emerged from. The door dropped open and out poured a squadron of heavily armed soldiers. Vaush ducked behind an abandoned ground car and watched in alarm as the squadron hurried toward the entrance and began their descent into the bunker.
Comron’s trapped!
Without a second thought, Vaush opened fire dropping four of them before they could get a fix on her. But by then she was coming at them so fast they hardly had a second to raise a proper defense. She cut through them with raw ferocity and precision, firing and using the blades on her blast rifle and wrists to make quick work of the closest ones. The remainders were dropped by Yaeger and Laney as they pulled up behind her.
“Empress, please stay back,” Yaeger urged as he went for the door. Laney tried to block Vaush from it. “It’s too dangerous down there. We’ll get him out, I swear.”
But the levels of adrenalin pulsing through her overrode reason. “Let’s go!” She knocked Laney aside and dashed through the door when Yaeger opened it. She flew down the stairs in a panic at hearing the heavy blastfire and howls of agony. When Vaush reached the bottom and rounded the corner, she withheld a grizzly sight. Comron was wielding the ostako swords and was tearing through the last of the soldiers. When he finally stopped, he stood amidst a pile of wounded and dying men.
He raised his swords at the sight of Vaush and Yaeger, then relaxed as the recognition set.
“What the … get back to the transport!” Comron said, furious at the sight of Vaush down there. As he caught up with her, he growled, “I told you to stay on the ship.” He took her arm in an iron grip and hurried her up the stairs.
“They came back without you. I thought you’d be trapped down there!” she said as they reached the top of the stairs. Yaeger gave the all clear signal and they raced back to the transport.
Once inside, Comron whipped his helmet off and cast a blistering look at Yaeger and Laney. “What part of the empress’ security is too difficult for you jarheads to manage?”
“Don’t blame them,” Vaush said, stepping between them. “Nothing short of shooting me would have kept me from going after you.”
“Don’t think I didn’t consider it,” Laney said. Vaush cut her a look and Laney shrugged, “A flesh wound at most.”
“You find this amusing?” Comron bellowed, a vein pulsing.
“Comron, let’s stay focused here,” Vaush said. They all shifted to the side as the transport lifted off. Vaush grabbed an overhead handle, steadying herself. “As I was saying,” she gestured at Ahmed’s family huddling together, “mission accomplished.”
Chapter 21
The transport touched down outside the quiet village just now stirring to life in the early morning light. The sun was just appearing over the mountains in the distance as Yaeger ordered his team to form a protective barrier around Ahmed’s family and escorted them out to the location where the High Lord Ahmed awaited them.
The grassy savannah was a refreshing change from the overbuilt cities and technology of the vast cities on Ahmed’s home world.
Comron stayed close to Vaush as they marched toward Ahmed. Yaeger took the lead in the procession. They’d taken a huge risk by letting the empress accompany them. Letting? He groaned. She was right. Short of shooting her, there was no way to control Vaush. The best he could do was become her living shield, guard her with his life. Further, if he didn’t want Vaush in precariously dangerous situations, he needed to avoid them too, as she felt as compelled to protect him as he did to protect her. His prickly mood softened at that realization.
When they reached Ahmed’s armed entourage, Vaush signaled her team to allow the hostages to come forward. When Ahmed caught sight of them in an unharmed state, he cried out to the heavens and gathered his family into his arms. They all wept and kissed each other affectionately, so grateful to be back together. After a few moments, Ahmed finally looked up at his mysterious benefactors.
“And to whom do I owe my heartfelt gratitude and an enormous debt?” he asked, his large dark eyes still wet with joyful tears.
At that moment, Vaush stepped forward and removed her helmet.
Ahmed’s mouth dropped open; his eyes were round as saucers. His astonished gaze moved over the rest of the team, but their faces remained hidden behind visor shields. Vaush had wanted him focused exclusively upon her face as savior.
He bowed low. “Your Majesty, I … I don’t understand,” he rose and looked at her. “You have my eternal gratitude, and I am forever in your debt for rescuing my family from those animals and returning them to me unharmed. But why you? Why would you risk yourself this way?”
She favored him with a warm smile. “It was a mere demonstration of my commitment to build a strong, mutually beneficial relationship between our worlds.” She took a cautious step forward. “High Lord Ahmed, you are not out of danger. Your family wasn’t placed there by your enemies but rather by those who would pretend to be your friends.”
His dark eyes glowered. “Who dared lift their hand against my family?”
“Not here,” she said, looking around. “Take a day to see to your family’s well-being. I will contact you soon to tell you everything. Meanwhile, this meeting never happened. Tell no one that your family was rescued by my hand. Do you understand?”
He hesitated with brow deeply furrowed. “I will say nothing until we speak very soon.”
“Expect word by mid-day tomorrow.” She glanced at his wife and children. “And now I will leave you to your family. Blessings be upon your household, my friend.”
He bowed. “And to yours, Excellency and friend.”
Chapter 22
The Duke of Nethic reclined at the head of the dinner table in the minor hall of Northridge Castle. His wife, Sheally, sat at the opposite end of the marble topped table, their two sons, Rhence and Gavin, sat on his left, the solitary empty seat to his right spoke volumes. Even after months of Comron’s absence, Crausin refused to allow Rhence to take his seat.
Comron will return! He’d bark at them when they asked. He ignored their furtive glances and hushed conversations. They didn’t know Comron like he did. The two of them had spent a lifetime planning Nethic’s rise, had pledged an oath of Brotherhood to that purpose. Edred had driven their economy into the ground, but ever since they were children, Crausin and Comron had vowed to restore her to her former glory. Nothing would supersede the cause, nothing ever had. The empress was a temporary distraction. One way or the other, Comron would eventually be recalled to duty and honor, because Crausin would be damned if he permitted his creation to serve any other purpose than that for which he was designed.
I brought you to life, first in spirit, then in form to help me endure Edred and rebuild Nethic!
Foolish, lamb, Comron will never return! Crausin’s head snapped up, his eyes darted from his sons to Sheally. No, as usual, none of them had heard Edred’s booming voice. They stared back at him with that annoying mixture of pity and concern.
“Are you all daft? Stop staring at me and eat before your meals grow cold!” he snapped and stabbed his fork at his own plate. Comron and the girl lie in bed laughing at you. You can’t even manage your own household affairs, how shall you manage a kingdom? Nethic will fail,
just as I predicted it would, you miserable little crag mite. Crausin squeezed his eyes shut to drown out the voice, then turned to look at Rhence. “How went the meeting with the governors of Southend? Were they able to resolve the labor disputes?”
Rhence blinked twice as if surprised to hear a question directed at him. “W-we’re making good progress, sir. The negotiations have cleared the initial hurdles. We expect things to move quickly from here.” He lowered his eyes, poked at the food on his plate. “If it would please you, sir, I could accompany you to some of the council meetings to serve where I may.”
Why not? Comron’s not returning to that role. Everyone knows it but you, ridiculous fool. You might as well begin grooming this lamb as heir. You’ve lost Comron!
“No!” Crausin shouted. His hand shot out wildly knocking over a glass of wine. A servant quickly moved in to clean up the mess.
“Must you constantly abuse him that way?” Sheally despaired. “He only wants to be of help to you.”
“Mother … please don’t,” Rhence pleaded.
“No, your father needs you there,” Sheally replied and then looked at Crausin. “Your councilmen are beginning to talk about your … your lack of focus and inattentiveness. We all know how much you miss Comron but, darling, you must try to go on. Nethic needs you and you have two other sons who desperately need their father.” She started to say more but had long given up on expressing her need for her husband.
Crausin looked upon them as if they were strangers. They might as well have been for all they understood of him. From the beginning, they had been foisted upon him, while he’d still been in an emotional wasteland over Meglyn. At eighteen, Edred had forced him into marriage with House Undersoll to save House Van Laven from financial ruin. The children, the two sons before him now, he was required to produce in fulfillment of the marital contract. All of it had been done to save Nethic with no regard for his own emotional or psychological needs.