Jess Granger

Berkley Trade ♦ August 4, 2009
ISBN-10: 0425229262
ISBN-13: 978-0425229262
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Kindle ♦ Fictionwise

Chapter One

“Damn it, Hatch! This is war. If you can’t handle it, get your ass back to the transport.” Cyani slammed her back against the tunnel wall as the shattering explosion of a K-bomb shook the ground. Fine pebbles and dust crumbled over her head, illuminating the laser sights streaming from her team’s eyepieces. She scanned the other men in the tunnel to see if any of them were beginning to panic. They couldn’t lose focus.

“I’m fine, Captain,” Hatch shouted back. He cringed as another blast rumbled in the distance. “Don’t like tight spaces is all.”

Earthlen, they could be so damn unpredictable.

“Keep control, I’m counting on you,” she urged.

Hatch squared his wide shoulders. “I got your back, Amazon.”

“I’m Azralen. Get your species straight.” She brushed the fallen dust off her shadowsuit and assessed the tunnel to see if their path had caved in.

“Wouldn’t get it, Cap’. It’s an Earth thing.” He winked then focused on the holo-map projected in front of his left eye. “We have coordinates on the prisoners. Vicca found them.”

“Good girl,” Cyani whispered to herself as she touched her com unit to turn on her own holo-map. The tiny floating screen lit with brightly colored dots, indicating the location of each prisoner her fox had marked with her com collar. She just hoped the little ball of fur was safe.

The seven Union soldiers they were assigned to rescue huddled in a small cluster in a single cell near the supply storehouses, but Vicca had discovered an eighth humanoid. The unknown prisoner had been locked in the more secure section on the other side of the compound.

“Shakt, Vicca, not now,” Cyani cursed as she pressed the recall button that should have sent her fox racing back to her. The blue dot on the holo-map jumped forward then remained still. It seemed her scout wasn’t going to return.

“You stubborn little myhrat. You were supposed to stay with our prisoners, not find one of your own.” Cyani flicked the sensor at her temple and the holo-map disappeared. Whoever the lone prisoner was, he had earned the sympathy of her wayward scout. She would have to go get her. She couldn’t let the security codes in Vicca’s collar fall into enemy hands.

“You two!” She pointed to her men. “Take the microbe packs and free our men. I’ll go after Vicca and this lone one. Hatch and Tola, secure the passage back to the transport. Remain on UC-4 until further notice. That communication channel should still be secure. We meet no later than thirty-five fourteen, understood? I refuse to leave anyone behind on this spirit-forsaken chunk of rock.” She stretched her fingers and pulled her sono from her side. Adjusting the eyepiece and ear set of her com, she turned back to her men.

“Comin’ with you, Cap,” Hatch insisted.

“No,” she commanded. “You have your orders.” The last thing she needed was to lose one of her men trying to retrieve her own damn fox. She had to do this alone. She worked best alone.

“I don’t like this, Captain,” Tola protested.

“You don’t have to,” she responded. “You’re in charge, Lieutenant. Get everyone to the transport before treating any injuries, do you understand? Time is the enemy now.”

He looked up at her, his swarthy expression as enigmatic as ever, but there was something in his eyes, something she couldn’t acknowledge.

“Protect my men,” she added, softening her tone. She had done her best to keep them safe in the five years they’d fought together. They were brave, smart soldiers, and she’d never forgive herself if she lost another man because of one of her orders. Losing three during the Felli campaign was bad enough.

Tola nodded as his hawk like expression hardened with resignation.

Cyani continued to the rest of her team, “Don’t get caught. I don’t want to fly into Krona to haul your butts out of an auction pit. Be careful.” She took a microbe pack and hooked it to her belt. The men shuddered, but Hatch’s black eyes turned to steel.

“You be careful, Cap. Azralen sell for a nice chunk of trillide on the slave market. You’re twenty times more valuable than any of us.” Hatch placed his large dark hand on her shoulder, even though she had made it clear several times she shouldn’t be touched, ever. That strict rule of her culture had been beaten into her, and she still bore the scars.

She looked down at Hatch’s hand, unable to chastise him. If they didn’t make it out, such a brief touch was a forbidden comfort, but a comfort all the same. They were more than her men, more than brothers. Hatch patted her shoulder then motioned to Tola. “We’ll be waiting for you.”

“If I’m late, I’m dead. Now go,” she ordered. “We’ll meet in victory soon.”

Cyani left the communication channel open as she flicked on her holo-map. The tiny map buzzed to life. The small blue dot that represented her stell fox remained unwavering beside a glowing orange dot marking the unknown humanoid.

“Whoever you are, you’d better be in some serious trouble, or Vicca’s not getting her belly scratched for the next ten years,” Cyani grumbled as she pulled herself up through a drain grate into the dark, iron-barred halls of the slave enclosure.

The assaulting smells of quar mold and urine made her eyes water. Holding the crook of her arm over her face, she scanned the area while trying to keep her breathing shallow. The terrible smell, the burning in her eyes, the darkness—she couldn’t let herself be distracted by her memories. She didn’t have much time before the Garulen discovered their defenses were down and powered the laser locks back up.

She rubbed the palms of her hands slowly on her thighs, then focused on the task at hand. The last thing she needed was to be killed or captured with her release from the war within her reach.

She pried open a dead laser lock with her flick knife and crept into the dim interior of the slave cells. The large stone blocks closed in around her, making her shudder. She stilled, waiting, watching. Water dripped on stone. The soft plink-plink echoed in the empty hall. With silent caution she crept farther down the passage.

K-bombs echoed outside like thunder but seemed distant from the interior of the small stone fortress. She set her com to high alert and scanned her surroundings. Cyani snuck along the walls to the cell door and turned the heavy latch. Pulling the door open with all her strength, she peered inside.

Warning, humanoid life-form encountered.

She flicked her holo-map off, so her eyes could adjust to the dim light.

Cyani stared in awe struck horror at the naked man chained to the wall. She felt her heart race as her stomach clenched in outrage and disgust.

Slave bands dug into his arms, waiting to inject him with whatever torturous poisons the Garulen needed to keep him submissive. As if that weren’t enough to control him, chains bound his hands and feet so tightly that the cuffs dug into his blood-caked skin. Severe-blinders hooked into his temples, and his toned back and chest bore deep, ugly contusions from a recent beating. Though lean, he seemed in prime physical condition, not starved like most slaves. His knuckles swelled with open cuts and bruises, as if he had done some damage in retaliation during that beating. In spite of everything, an aura of power and menace clung to him.

What was he capable of? She crept closer to the wall, inching toward him. Her hand hovered over her weapon. She couldn’t forget he was dangerous, a crouched wild beast wary and ready to strike.

Her heart raced, and Cyani felt a tingle rushing through her arms as her mind fought back the memory of lying beaten on the floor, listening to the mob chant in the halls.

She forced the dark echoes from her mind and focused on him. Who was she dealing with? What did they use him for? Was he a pit fighter? Or worse?

He clenched his jaw but remained silent. He watched her, even though she was certain he could see nothing through the smooth black plates covering his eyes.

Vicca trotted to the prisoner, her com collar blinking through her fur. The movement drew Cyani’s attention, and she focused on her scout. The fox rubbed her head and shoulders against the prisoner’s leg while her tail swished in indignation. Cyani had been irritated with her scout, but now she understood. She couldn’t have left him there either. Every ounce of honor and holy righteousness that had been ingrained in her being, refused to leave him to such terrible torture. She knew this darkness.

“Com, identify humanoid life-form.” Cyani prepared the microbes to remove the slave bands while waiting for the report to sound in her ear.

Humanoid life-form has been identified. Species: Byralen. Gender: Male.

“I noticed,” she muttered. She wasn’t familiar with the Byralen people. “Ability to translate?”

Language: Unknown. Ability to translate: 0 percent.

“Great, this should be entertaining.”

Culture: Unknown.

“That wasn’t a request.” Exasperated, she inched closer to the prisoner. “Any unusual defenses?”

Physical characteristics: Byralen can be identified by dark stripes over their shoulders and arms and streaked hair in varying common shades. Their irises contain a phosphorescent chemical compound and can change color at will, possibly used as communication. Byralen emit potent sexual pheromones when aroused, and their sexual fluids contain highly addictive properties. Byralen are strong and fast. Their eyes have the ability to hypnotize. Though not known to be aggressive, Byralen can be deadly when trapped or cornered. Remaining in the presence of an aroused Byralen of the opposite sex can cause altered states of consciousness. Recommendation: Avoid contact if possible.

“This is getting better by the minute. What are they used for?” she asked the com, though she had a fairly good idea what the answer was going to be.

Byralen are rare and actively sought as personal sexual slaves on Krona. They are used by the Garulen to produce illegal sexual stimulants and narcotics for the shadow trade. Their worth at auction: Nearly priceless.

“Fantastic. What did you get me into, Vicca?” Her stell fox pricked her large ears forward and blinked her ice blue eyes then curled her body around the bound foot of the Byralen. Cyani didn’t want to think about what this man had suffered. The thought made her sick. Was he even sane? She turned her attention back to her fox.

“It’s the stripes, isn’t it? You are a sucker for creatures with stripes.”

Vicca purred and swished her ringed tail.

“Com, establish perimeter. High alert.” Cyani waited for the affirmative beep then crept toward the Byralen.

“I’m here to help you,” she called to the man in the common language of the Union. As she moved, he continued to track her in spite of the blinders. “Hold still while I remove the slave bands.”

She inched forward and touched his foot. He sprang from the wall, snarling, his large hands grasping for her.

With agility and instincts born from generations of her warrior matriarchs, Cyani leapt over his shoulder, then rolled to the right, out of the reach of his chains.

He thrashed in his chains like a Xalen tiger, growling low in his throat. The slave bands on his arms beeped and whirred. The red lights of the bands flickered in the dim light, signaling an injection. The Byralen let out a low moan and staggered on his feet.

“No,” Cyani gasped. “What are they doing to you?” Cyani ran forward and caught the man before he collapsed to the ground. He winced as she lowered him to the floor. “I have to get you out of here. Com, switch to language of Garu.”

Hoping her hunch would work, she removed the ear set of her com and attached it to his ear. He twitched and growled, but his body remained limp. She pressed the release buttons on the severe-blinders. The black metal unhooked from his eye sockets, and fell from his face.

His irises were a dark and swirling mix of black, violet, and glowing red. She tried not to look him in the eyes, unsure if he’d use them to try to hypnotize her. Her skin grew warm and tingled with a strange electric sensation anywhere he touched her.

She fought the immediate urge to push him away. His touch shook her resolve. She could almost feel the sting of a teaching whip across her calves. She was being impractical. He was injured. She didn’t have long to save him. He needed to trust her quickly.

“I’m trying to get you out of here,” she insisted in a less patient tone than she would have liked. She didn’t have time to waste.

Easing back, she tried to break her contact with him, but he grabbed her thigh. She waited for a response, desperately hoping he could understand her.

They remained motionless for a moment that stretched into an eternity.

Blinking his burning eyes, Soren’s vision slowly returned to focus. His head pounded with the sickening tranquilizer polluting his blood.

A woman leaned over him, a soldier. He could see sharply in the dim light, but it would take a while to regain his sense of color. He needed to see the color of her eyes.

She tossed a dark braid of hair over her shoulder and studied the slave bands. Her face was hard, but beautiful in a fierce way, and she wore some sort of machine that circled her eye. His head swam as he tried to think. A stabbing pain burst in his heart. He didn’t want to die like this. What color were her eyes?

She spoke to him, her voice low and commanding, almost as unyielding and determined as her expression. A metallic voice rang in his ear through the contraption she had attached to him. The harsh Garu language made him shudder, but he understood the words.

“Can you understand me? Do you know I’m not your enemy?” She leaned closer, her voice a controlled whisper. His vision finally cleared enough to see dark green shining in the strands of hair around her face. Ckili moss, the color of ckili moss. He knew that color. He remembered it. The rest of his vision sharpened. Like dawn after a storm, her eyes were clear bright blue.

Blue.

He swallowed a lump in his throat. It was completely irrational to try to read her eyes. He knew they probably didn’t change color like his, but seeing blue in someone’s expression after so long in the dark seemed to ease his suffering, even if it was only an illusion.

“Do you understand me?” she asked again, louder this time. He nodded as the warm brush of fur at his hand drew his attention down to the strange creature licking his thumb.

His sense of relief had been enormous when the warm creature first rubbed up against his ankle. At first he thought it was a silky rat. It wasn’t a rat, but a very small fox, a beautiful thing with a snowy white face and mantle that deepened to a coat of rich red and black stripes with white socks. It swished its bushy ringed tail and leapt up on his stomach. The creature must belong to the woman.

“Thank you,” he whispered to the animal in his native language. He hadn’t spoken those words in longer than he could remember. The creature squeezed its eyes shut and purred.

“I need to get you out of here,” the woman stated. She attempted to keep her voice low and calming, as if she were talking to an injured beast.

She was talking to an injured beast.

Soren shook the thought from his mind. Her urgency came through her no-nonsense, yet beautiful voice. He had to help her, not get distracted by the drugs.

“There’s a transport waiting,” she continued. “Hold still while the microbes remove your slave bands. I’ll work on the chains.” The woman pulled a small box from the low-slung belt on her hip. The skintight dark gray and black suit she was wearing left very little to his imagination. He felt a familiar tingle race down his spine and stared at the ceiling.

The Garulen kept him on a constant regimen of stimulants so he would be ripe when they wished to harvest. It could get him into trouble now. He didn’t need to be distracted by her either. She was his only hope. Who was she?

She opened the box, and tiny metallic creatures that looked like spiders crawled out. He stiffened and pushed closer to the wall as the creepy bots crawled up his arms. He wanted to scream, but it would not escape him. His terror paralyzed him as the metal creatures scuttled over his arms.

“Relax, they will remove the bands. Hold still.”

Soren shut his eyes and forced himself to breathe as he felt the metallic spiders dig into his flesh and crawl under the slave bands. He screamed aloud this time, the sound coming out as a choked roar. He shuddered and tried to swallow his panic. Over and over, he remembered the hot burn of metal against his skin. He tried to pull against his chains, but the metal clinging to him cut deeper into his wrists. He willed himself to hold still, thankful for the tranquilizers. He would have harmed her in his panic without them. He dug his fingers into the palms of his hands as his body shook.

“What’s your name?” the woman asked. He felt her hand on his. It was a weak attempt to calm him. He tried to focus on her.

He tried to answer but couldn’t. He could feel the spiders digging through his flesh, crawling under his skin. He had to focus on her. He forced himself to watch her mouth, to keep his mind on anything but the metal creatures.

“Please tell me your name,” she prodded again. She still wouldn’t look into his eyes. She probably knew how he could use them. She didn’t trust him. She shouldn’t trust him. He reached for her, but she backed away.

“Stay with me. What is your name?” she demanded, as if her voice alone could shake him from his terror. He could handle the pain, but he couldn’t control the panic he felt whenever metal touched him.

The bands on his arms beeped, then with a soft click, released their constant stinging pressure. The spiders crawled back into the box, leaving a creeping trail of his blood over his arms. Soren’s head swam with relief as he took several hasty breaths to calm down.

“Soren,” he forced through his burning throat. “I am Soren.” The affirmation of his name helped calm his racing heart. For so long, his name didn’t matter.

Her expression softened. “I’m Cyani, and that’s Vicca,” she said, pointing to the fox. “It seems she likes you, Soren.”

With delicate care, Cyani opened one of the slave bands fully, extracting the ugly needles from his flesh. She winced at the shriveled skin beneath the bands and the deep bruises where the needles inflicted their endless torture. He was finally free of them. The thought confused him. The only thing that seemed real was his pain. His heart raced as he helped her pull the other band out of his arm.

“Captain, prisoners are free and en route to transport.” Soren pulled the sickening machine from his ear and handed it to her. She took it from him and fixed it in her ear. He couldn’t control his shudder. He had no way to communicate with her now except his eyes, and she wouldn’t look at him.

Cyani stood, leaving him leaning against the wall.

She had to be quick. Time was running out. “Com, switch language, Union. Hatch, report.”

“All seven prisoners freed and on transport, Captain. We received a perimeter warning. The Garulen have discovered that the defense system for the prison is down. Get out of there.”

“Give me a minute. There’s a Byralen here.”

She pulled out her laser and focused on the cuffs at Soren’s hands.

“Not to be rude, Cap, but you don’t have a minute. We have to get these men out of here now!”

“I won’t leave him!” The lock on one of Soren’s cuffs snapped off. He yanked his hand free of the chains and held still as she worked on the other three.

“I won’t leave you,” she stated, even though she knew he couldn’t understand her. She hoped he understood her intent. As his other hand came loose, she leaned to reach his feet. He caught her chin in his fingers and tilted her face toward his.

The sensation of his bare skin against hers shocked her. The electric tingle pulsed over the skin of her face as all her senses seemed to heighten. She gasped as he forced her to look up. Fear raced through her as his red violet eyes turned a deep shade of aquamarine. She blinked, fascinated by the swirling color. Was he trying to say something to her?

The aquamarine glowed, cool, calm, grateful. She nodded to acknowledge she understood then pushed his hand aside and continued her work.

In seconds she had both his legs free. Vicca raced out the door, barking in urgency. Cyani wrapped his arm over her neck to help support him as they ran from the prison.

“Captain, our sensors have spotted an incoming stingship formation. We have to leave or the ship will be torn apart,” Tola’s usually calm voice snapped with panic.

Just then the power returned to the fortress. Sirens blared while red strobe lights illuminated the hall. They ran for the open gate without looking back.

Warning! Humanoid life-forms approaching.

Cyani ducked from under Soren’s arm as she spun on her heel. She pulled out her sono and flick knife in a smooth motion, ready for the attack.

Four Garulen guards ran toward her with shock throwers and a shock net. Focused on her prey, she let them come.

The one to the left threw the shock net. Cyani ducked beneath it as it flew over her. She felt the energy of the net tingle through her skin as it passed her and landed over a crumbling stone.

She shook off the numbing sting in her muscles and leapt toward the leader of the group as she fired her sono at the one reaching for the net.

He fell dead.

The leader charged, his shock blast missing her head by inches. She spun, pulled her flick knife across his neck, then fired a shot at the guard to her right, hitting him between the eyes.

The low whoam of a shock thrower discharging propelled her forward as she twisted to avoid the blast.

The blast slammed into her shoulder, knocking her into the wall. The searing pain of the hit burned through her blood, followed by terrifying numbness. It spread through her body like ice in her veins as her muscles seized. She fought, but her brain couldn’t make her arms or legs move. Her heart echoed in her ears as her eyes stared unblinking. The last guard stalked toward her with a greedy look on his hairy face and no concern for his fallen comrades.

A feral roar ripped through the hall as Soren slammed into the last guard. His movements seemed in slow motion in the incessant light of the strobe. He wrenched the thrower out of the guard’s hands. With one powerful strike, he slammed the butt of the gun into the guard’s face, crushing his skull.

The guard landed with a thud as Soren turned his glowing red eyes to her.

She gasped, helpless. It would take at least twenty minutes for the shock blast to wear off. More guards would come. They would be caught. There was no way out. They’d pierce her arms with slave bands, throw her naked on an auction block, and after her buyer raped her over and over, she’d be tossed into a fighting pit to kill, or die. She couldn’t let that happen. What could she do? She was helpless. She had to fight. The ground felt cold against her cheek, just as it had when they had thrown her, beaten, into the cell all those years ago. She was a child then. She was just as helpless now.

Soren fell to his knees next to her and placed his bare hands on her cheeks. He lifted her head, forcing her to look at him as the electric sensation tingled in her skin again.

She couldn’t move. She couldn’t save them. He’d be captured and tortured again. It was all for nothing.

She tried to pull her head from his hands, but her body felt dead. His glowing acid yellow eyes roved over her face as he gently pulled her limp body into his lap.

“Gnar hox,” he murmured in Garu, leaning his face closer to hers. Her heart thundered with fear as she lay against his warm skin. What was he doing? He caressed her cheek with the burning heat of the back of his knuckles. Her com automatically translated his next words. “Trust me.”

He brought his face closer to hers, his breath whispering over her skin, her face alive with sensation. A rich, clean scent overtook her, like cinnamon and suka melon. She inhaled, fighting to avoid his touch. A desperate plea ripped through her trapped mind. This was forbidden. She willed her body to stand, to fight. Suddenly her fingers began to tingle.

His lips brushed over hers, a whisper of a touch. Her heart pounded in her ears as the unfamiliar pleasure of his caress flooded her mind like a terrifying drug. He kissed her, opening her mouth to his and stealing her breath.

What was he doing? They’ll kill me for this.

Her body came alive in a rush of agonizing fire. Crying out, she arched her back, and rolled away from him. Her limbs felt as if they had been asleep for hours. Each nerve screamed with life and stinging pain. She pushed herself up with one of her arms, curling her leg beneath her.

She flopped back to the ground, the right side of her body numb and unresponsive.

Soren crawled toward her and caught her around her waist.

“No,” she choked out as her eyes watered. “Do . . . Don’t.”

“Hold still,” he whispered, pulling her into his body. “I will help you.”

He brushed her braid over her shoulder. The brief touch of his fingertips scored her with an agonizing rush of pleasure.

Cyani tensed, trembling in anger and gut-twisting anticipation.

Soren’s hot mouth pressed against the nape of her neck. She moaned as a warm rush of sensation flowed through her blood. This was forbidden. She could feel the sting of the slicing whip against her legs. They would do more than whip her if anyone ever found out. Her body thrummed with energy as he poured hot, soft, painful, breathtaking kisses across the base of her neck.

“Enough!” she shouted, leaping to her feet. Stunned, she took a wobbly step to the side, staring in wonder at her hands as she opened and closed her fingers. The paralysis had completely left her body. How?

He looked up at her, unapologetic for his actions. “Better?”

What had he done to her? All of her senses reeled as she looked around. Her normally acute eyesight reached a new level. The darkest shadows revealed their secrets to her new sight. The stale, acrid smell of the prison choked her, but she could pick out her own scent, Vicca’s, and Soren’s, as if each was a tangible thing hanging in the air for her to grasp.

Soren rose, rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, then limped toward Vicca.

The alarm on her com went off with a relentless beep, throwing her back into the moment.

35:14.

She was out of time.

“Captain, we can’t wait any longer,” Hatch yelled through the link. “They’re right on top of us.”

The hiss of stingship blasts pelted the tunnel entrances. Her heart sank. She would not be responsible for their deaths.

“Get out of here,” she shouted into the com.

“Cap?!”

“Go.” She closed her eyes. “Tola, that’s an order, damn it. Get out!”

“We’ll find you, Captain,” Tola responded. “Stay alive. We will return, and we’ll get you out.”

“We’ll meet in victory,” she answered. Though she did not say it, her mind finished the saying. Or in death.

Static buzzed in her ear then her com went silent.

Her head and heart pounded in unified pain as she closed her eyes and tried to dispel the panic rising like a tidal wave through her body. She was too late. They had to leave her. There was no way out. It was the right thing to do. It was what she ordered them to do. Her men would die if they didn’t leave.

She heard the familiar roar of the transport engines.

Her hope sank as the ship lifted off the ground.

Soren grabbed her hand.

She let go of her breath and looked up at him. His eyes swirled with myriad colors, magenta flowing into warm gold and green. A strange sense of calm rushed through her body, easing some of the ache of the shock blast and allowing her to breathe. Her thoughts slowed and focused under the hypnotic effect of his eyes. They had to find another ship.

“Hurry,” she gasped.

He nodded, then they ran after Vicca. Stingship blasts rained around them as they dove into the tunnels.

A large explosion shook the ground and Soren grabbed her, pulling her beneath him as he sheltered her from the falling debris with his body.

With her senses heightened, her body immediately reacted to his secure weight pressing down on her. His scent overtook her, and as she looked up, the debris around them seemed painted in iridescent color. She struggled to push herself out from under him. The computer had grossly misstated the nature of the Byralen’s narcotic effect.

She had to clear her mind. She was a warrior. She had spent the last fourteen years in training. She was hard, cold. She had no attachments to anything or anyone. She would resist being distracted by him. Both of their lives depended on it.

Before the dust had time to settle, Soren leapt to his feet and pulled Cyani up with him. She blinked hard to clear her vision of the swirling colors dancing before her eyes. Hitting the map on her eyepiece, she ran after her scout, Soren following close behind.

“Com, find coordinates for any remaining Union vessel and plot on map.” A bright yellow dot appeared on the map on the far side of the tunnel system near the old Hannolen ruins. Relief flowed through her veins like landing the last blow after a long sparring match. “Com, contact ship,” she ordered.

Static hissed in her ear, broken by an incomprehensible voice.

“Union vessel, compatriots en route to ship. Do not launch until rendezvous. I repeat, do not launch,” she shouted into her com, hoping the ship could hear her.

“Vicca, find path to Union ship,” she commanded, as the fox tore through the darkness, her blue dot leaving a streak on her holo-map. She followed the path, her hope returning as Vicca’s blue streak finally reached the yellow dot.

They ran blindly through the tunnels as the sounds of the war faded to silence. Afraid the Union ship would take off without them, Cyani pushed her aching body as fast as it would go. Her shaking calves burned as she ran through the tunnels, ducking the low-hanging rock. A broken shard of a metal brace ripped a hole in her shadowsuit as she passed.

Though Soren had to be in pain, he followed relentlessly. He stumbled once. Cyani pulled him to his feet, blood from the seeping wounds on his wrists sticking to her palm.

With every step forward, she stared at the yellow dot of hope in the darkness, willing it to remain on the planet until they could reach it.

She burst out of the tunnel system and slammed her back against the dark walls of the ruins.

“Com, scan for life-forms.” She turned her head slowly, her holo-map peering through the old stone walls. No new dots. No warning. Only silence. Gripping her sono, she motioned to Soren to follow. Turning the corner, she stared in horror at the sight before her.

A Union ship rested on its hull, one side smashed against the wall and its wing broken and lifeless in the clearing. A rock spire had toppled and crushed the cockpit beneath the dark stone. Vicca barked at the ship as if she were angry it was wrecked. Through the static in Cyani’s com, she could make out the ship’s distress call.

The overwhelming shadow of hopelessness loomed over Cyani as she stared dumbstruck at the ship. She let her sono fall to her side and hung her head as an enormous weight pressed down on her shoulders.

She turned to Soren. He seemed to come to the same realization she did as his gaze slowly sank to the ground. His eyes faded from a bright rose to pure black.
They were trapped.