The Chalice (40 page)

can return to the Redemption.”

“I still say it’s ridiculous for you to go out there. I should go. I’m  not stupid and I can negotiate.” She added haughty to her outward demeanor. “I am  after all your Queen.”

Anne’s lips twitched. Dimples deepened her sm ooth cheeks. She hesitated for a

mom ent before speaking. “And it’s my right as your counselor to protect my

Queen.”

“Of all the…”

“Shagal,” Anne motioned to the artisan. “Stay behind me and try not to look too tall. Act hum ble and downplay the breeder Warrior stuff. I’ll treat you as my servant, so don’t be offended by anything I say or do. Be ready to interpret but try to keep the Deg’Nara from  seeing too m uch of your face.” A grin split her lips. “Talk in a high voice like a fem ale would.”

“She’s gonna treat you like the English royalty treat their slaves,” Dread

interposed, “just like you deserve.” She added a sly note. “I can make him  talk in

a higher voice [of/ if] you’d give m e a m inute.”

“I still say I should be the one to go,” Kara exclaimed, frustrated and frightened by the prospect. “I’m  stronger. I can run faster and…and you’re too much of a lady,” she finished, knowing she sounded lame at best.

“W hich is why we m ight just get away with this.” Anne wrapped a scarf around her neck and drew the bottom  up over her light brown hair. She looked very composed and amazingly chic in a rum m age sale sort of way.

“I’m  ready.”

Kara threw herself on the English girl, fearing the worst. Anne was a bestfriend, a confidante, and it would hurt too m uch if som ething happened to her outthere. She couldn’t bear it.

“I’m  going too,” she whispered. “Safety in num bers—you know the old saying.

You can do all the talking. I’ll just be there to back you up if needed. Please.”

Anne returned the hug. “I can’t say I’m  not happy about it. I’m  really terrified

of going out there, but I would feel better if you were with me.”

“Then it’s done.” She straightened up, wrapping her cape tighter and covering her hair. Almost as light as a Chiagan-Se’s! Might be better to have it hidden. Just in case.

She held out her hand, wiggling her fingers. “Give m e a weapon. If push comes

to shove, I’ll need one.”

Mordaq regarded her, his expression guarded and angry. “Lord Tegan wouldn’t

approve.”

“Lord Tegan isn’t here. Give m e a dam n weapon. I com mand you to.”

His mouth drew down, his silver eyes shone with glassy sparks of fire. “I am

not yours to command. I answer only to my Lord.”

“Well. He’s not here. Give m e a dam n weapon. Preferably one of those stun

gun things.”

He hesitated, undecided. Finally, with great reluctance, he handed it over.

“Take care not to injure yourself.”

“Now that we’ve got that settled,” Anne’s calm  voice broke in. “It’s tim e to venture out and see if we can loose the moorings. Kara, you’re behind m e and Shagal, you follow her.”

Mordaq moved out of the line of sight as Goth Girl opened the sliding paneldoor. A cold blast of air hit them  with full force. The pitiful thing this planet calledsun could not warm  the frozen world. It was a huge freezer. And now we’re the

meat!

The line of Deg’Nara soldiers shifted, moving into a vee position as theystepped from  the door of the transport. Head held high, Anne strode forward,

seem ing oblivious to the threat posed by the alien warriors.

The surly looking individuals raised their weapons, poised in readiness as theyapproached. Expecting the worst, Kara’s heart thrummed a rapid staccato, herknees knocked together. She dipped her head, whispering a fervent prayer ofdeliverance. This is so not good!

Anne halted abruptly. Her nose sm acked into the Englishwoman’s back, rocking

her on her heels.

“Watch it,” Anne hissed aside.

“Sorry,” she muttered. A paroxysm  of terror unnerved her. Fearful of losing control, she forced herself to breathe, slow and deep as she waited for Anne’s next move.

“W hat is the meaning of this…” Anne demanded in English, waving her arm  in a wide arc, “this interruption?” She crossed her arm s, tapping her foot, the perfect picture of pissed off human.

The Deg’Nara swarthy faces m irrored their distrust and confusion. Maybe

they’ve never seen humans before!

The focal point of Anne’s interest swiveled to a thickset individual whoappeared to be the leader. She repeated her question, adding a scowl for effect. “W hat is the meaning of this?”

His beady eyes narrowed, bulbous lips drew down in a snarl. Spit flew as he

gobbled a string of incom prehensible chatter.

Shagal edged forward, features concealed by the cowl hood and legs bent to

disguise his height. “He’s demanding we surrender,” he whispered.

Kara could feel the static energy emanating from  the artisan, hot and palpable.

A menacing growl rum bled from  his chest.

“ Stay calm  big guy,” she m urm ured, laying a restraining hand on his arm

.

“Keep to the plan.”

“I would rip his heart out and shove it up his…”

“I get the picture,” she whispered, suppressing an irrational urge to giggle.

Anne’s performance was the epitome of English cool. “We come in peace,” she

said, spreading her arms in supplication.

The urge to giggle grew exponentially. Isn’t this a scene from  some cheesy sci-

fi flick?

The Deg’Nara leader slobbered more garbage, his stiff body language adding

em phasis to the presupposed threat. A weapon not unlike the Chiagan-Se Tar

materialized in his stubby hands. Weaving the buzzing weapon in Anne’s face, he snickered, a raspy, disgusting noise. The tip of the Tar dropped lower, pausing at her breast area. A smattering of unsavory interest slashed his ugly face.

The   Englishwoman   stepped   back,   chin   high   as   she   glared,   appearingunim pressed by the intim idating display. The Deg’Nara’s eyes shone withmalevolent glee. He growled another spate of furious garble.

“He’s issuing his last warning.”

“Tell me what to say,” Anne hissed over her shoulder.

Shagal m uttered a few short sounds.

After a brief hesitation, Anne stam m ered out his vocalization.

“Bah” the Deg’Nara leader spat. He chattered again, snarling as he spoke. The

weapon flashed down, hum m ing with malice.

Observing the interchange, Kara’s stomach lurched. Things were not going

well. “W hat did you tell Anne to say?”

“That we’re traders.”

“Doesn’t look like he believes it.”

“He’s Deg’Nara.”

“W hat’s that supposed to mean?”

The cowl hood tilted towards her. “The Deg’Nara’s suspicions encom passeveryone and everything. Their loyalties extend only to themselves— and eventhat is suspect.”

“Makes m e feel all warm  and fuzzy.”

One of the soldiers stepped forward and fired a plasm a burst at the transport. Instinctively, Anne ducked, crying out. The glowing blasts struck the hull, leavinga smoking indentation on the smooth surface. Striated lines spread out from  thedepression like ice cracking on a frozen pond.

Anne’s composure wavered, her face paled. The Deg’Nara leader sm irked,relishing her unconstrained reaction. He gobbled another string of blabber,hacking a wad of yellowish phlegm  for em phasis.

Concealed behind the Englishwom an, Shagal drew his weapon. “Get down,” he

hissed. “He says we’re enemy spies and he’s taking us captive.”

“W ha…?” Horrified, she dropped to one knee, palm ing the gun. Her hand was shaking so bad, she didn’t know if she could fire the frickin’ thing. This can’t be happening!

He whistled, signaling the others. Bellowing like an enraged bull, Mordaqcharged from  the transport firing at the Deg’Nara soldiers. Shagal knocked Anneto the ground and attacked, Tar slashing and whirling. Bursts of energy zingedfrom  the doorway of the transport as Goth Girl, Dread and Biker Chick fired inrapid succession.

W hat to do?

She raised her hand, pointed at the Deg’Nara soldiers and squeezed thetrigger, alm ost dropping the gun as her arm  jerked back from  the recoil. Brightflashes of light pulsed from  the weapon, spraying in a wide arc. A surprised Deg’Nara went down, a gaping hole in his smoldering chest. Shocked, bile rose inher throat. I killed him !

Beside her, Anne huddled face down, fingers laced behind her neck and

whimpering.

She   caught   a   glimpse   of  Shagal   in   heated   battle   with   the   Deg’Naracommander, the Tars whipping and slicing. Lethal and exacting, he m oved withthe grace of a thousand years of skilled Chiagan-Se Warriors. Beyond him , Mordaq dodged and weaved, firing with deadly precision. The huge maledevastated the ranks of the Deg’Nara, destroying them  with merciless contem pt. The alien warriors fell only to be replaced by m ore—and then more.

Desperate, she continued firing. From  the relative safety of the ship, the girlsrained havoc on those luckless ones who cam e within their sights but little bylittle, they were all losing ground. There were just too m any!

In one broad swoop, Shagal stepped to the side and sliced down, reaming thebastard commander from  the tip of his greasy head to his m eager-sized crotcharea. The two halves parted and then fell in slow motion, the ruined flesh sizzlingfrom  the aftereffects of the Tar.

“Get to the ship,” he snapped, spinning to elude a shrieking alien. The Tar

slashed, toppling the now headless Deg’Nara. “I’ll cover you.”

From  the folds of his cloak, he drew out a plasma blaster and began firing.

“W hat about you?”

“Do as I say,” he yelled.

Anne scrambled to her feet, cape flying as she raced towards the transport. Hoton her heels, Kara pounded towards the entryway. A tingling zipped up her spine. She turned and fired, drilling an attacker on the cheek. He screamed, flippingover backwards.

Anne dove through the entrance and rolled. Kara flung herself forward, chin

bouncing off the hard metal floor as she landed.

The girls closed ranks, firing round after round. The battered transport rocked

and swayed as laser bursts pum meled the hull, the com pression blasts deafening

in the enclosed space.

Biker Chick screeched and fell back, landing with a dull thum p on the floor. Asizzling hole the size of a grapefruit vented her lower torso. She gasped,convulsed and then went limp, sightless eyes stared at the ceiling.

“Oh my God!”

Dread jerked back just in time to avoid a direct hit. The black locks sheared

from  the side of her head leaving tiny tendrils of sm oke spiraling up.

“You sonofabitch!” she screamed, starting out the door. “I’ll kill you!”

Shagal crashed through, barreling into Dread as they dropped in a writhing

heap of arm s and legs.

Nose to nose, he snarled, “Are you crazy female?”

“He shot my hair,” she screeched, eyes flaring. “I’m  gonna kill ‘im .”

Kara rushed to the doorway and took up Dread’s position, firing a haphazardspread of glowing bursts. Her peripheral vision caught sight of Mordaq’s silverywhite braids flying out as he spun, plowing through the line of Deg’Nara. Hetossed the plasm a gun aside, whipping out the form idable Tar. The weapon slicedand diced. Alien body parts flew. The huge Warrior was holding his own—and thensome!

Shagal scram bled up, grabbed Biker Chick’s weapon and leapt out the door,both hands firing as he charged into the chaos. Goth Girl glanced their way, thewhite face gone hard and professional. She sm iled, a vicious slash of her lips, andthen jum ped, following him  into the fracas.

“You dum basses!” Dread scream ed an anguished wail of unrestrained terror.

“You’re gonna get killed out there!”

“We’re going to get killed in here,” Anne snuffled against her sleeve. She reached over and gently slipped the dead wom an’s eyelids down. “We don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of surviving this.”

“Says you,” Kara m uttered, snapping off another round. “I plan on getting

naked with Tegan and doing the nasty again.”

Dread’s head whipped, her mouth dropped open, dark eyes rounding. “You

screwed Lord Tegan?”

Another burst of pulsing light. “Yep and I’m  gonna do it again as soon as I get

a chance, so shut up and shoot the bad guys.”

“Like I said,” Anne hissed. “We don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell.” She

pointed. “Look over there.”

A vehicle em erged from  the Deg’Nara ship. Heavily armored, squat and ugly,its outward appearance comparable to an armored tank. The upper portion lifted,swiveled, and then retracted, a barrel-like object com ing to rest directly in linewith their position. The m achine rum bled forward on clanking m etallic treads.