Chapter 18
Chapter 17
Banic led the little group further along the corridor. All his senses were on high alert, his body coiled and ready for action. The stench of blood and death hung heavily in the air, making his nostrils flare. They didn’t have to go far for the first evidence of battle.
The second corner they turned led them to a scene of carnage. Bodies littered the floor, both Izaean and alien, their lifeless eyes staring up at the ceiling. This was a residential area, so the Izaeans looked like they had been roused from their beds, wearing the softer clothing for relaxation and sleeping. They were armed with nothing more than daggers and their own bodies. In contrast, the aliens wore gleaming armor, their high-powered weapons still smoking from the deadly volleys they had unleashed.
Evidence of the fight was everywhere—from the scorch marks that marred the walls to the shattered remains of Izaean blades scattered across the ground. His jaw tightened. It had been a battle of sheer grit and raw courage against overwhelming technological superiority, and the cost had been high.
Beth leaned against his back, a small sound of distress in her breathing. He covered her hand with his own as it snaked around to his chest. He wanted to take her away from all of this, so she didn’t have to see it. His little mate was strong and more intelligent than he was by a long shot… but she was also soft and gentle. Too soft and gentle for this kind of slaughter.
“It’s okay,” he murmured to her, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her close into the shelter of his larger body as he looked at the carnage.
He didn’t like this, not one little bit. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, unease crawling down his spine. He wasn’t on his home turf, and he was fighting an enemy he knew nothing about. To make matters worse, he couldn’t trust all the members of his own group. His gaze flicked to Sy, taking in the red glow of his eyes and the wicked curve of his claws.
The other feral was a wild card, a ticking time bomb just waiting to go off. He hadn’t been lying to Beth about Sy’s Rage. He could hear it yammering away in Sy’s head, pressing at his own mind.
His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in the corner as he shifted his stance to put himself between Beth and Sy. He’d be damned if he let anything happen to her, not while breath was still in his body. She was his to protect, his to defend, and he’d tear apart anyone who tried to lay a finger on her.
“Keep an eye on him,” he spoke silently to the Rage voice in his head.
Amusement filled his mind. “And just how do you expect me to do that? In cassse you forgot, you don’t have eyesss in the back of your head I can ussse. A desssign flaw, if you asssk me.”
Banic gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “I know you have senses that I don’t. So just keep them peeled for danger. Okay?”
The Rage muttered something under its breath, a string of curses in a language Banic didn’t recognize. “Bossy fucking biped.”
Banic stumbled, his step faltering for a split second before he smoothly picked up his pace again. Beth looked up at him curiously, but he kept his expression neutral, not wanting to give anything away. She had no idea about the conversation going on inside his head, and he intended to keep it that way.
“Are you speaking… Terran?” he demanded silently.
He felt the creature shrug, a twitch of his own muscles under his skin. He definitely had not initiated the movement. Draanth, could this thing take over his body without his permission?
“Of courssse,” the Rage voice hissed, a note of dark amusement in its tone. “It would be easssy to destroy your mind and ride your bonesss.”
Banic’s blood ran cold, a shiver of fear racing down his spine. “That’s not at all disconcerting to know. Thanks for that,” he muttered sarcastically.
“But I wouldn’t,” the Rage continued, almost as an afterthought. “You’re far too entertaining.”
“Gee thanks,” Banic bit back his growl.
“You’re welcome. And besssides, our mate carriesss young. We need to work together to raissse it. It will need to know humanoid thingsss… Danger ahead.”
The voice retreated, and he signaled the group to slow down, his hand cutting through the air in a sharp gesture. They took cover in the meager recesses of the doorways, pressing themselves against the walls as the sound of marching feet echoed through the corridor.
A troop of the invaders rounded the corner, their massive, armored forms filling the space from wall to wall. And in their midst, a group of Izaean children fought with a ferocity that belied their small size. They snarled and snapped, their tiny fists and feet lashing out at their captors with a strength born of desperation and the Rage that had banished them to this hellhole of a planet.
“The kids,” Beth breathed, her eyes wide with horror. “They’re after the kids. Why?”
Banic’s hands curl into fists at his sides. He didn’t know what the aliens wanted with the children, but he’d be damned if he let them take them. These were Izaean younglings, born to fight, to survive against all odds. They might be small, but they were far from helpless. And they had backup.
Him.
He made Beth stay hidden, gently but firmly pushing her back into the meager cover of the doorway. She started to protest, her eyes flashing with a fierce determination.
“I can help,” she insisted, her voice low and urgent. “I can’t just sit here and do nothing while you risk your life.”
He shook his head, his jaw clenching with the effort it took to keep his voice steady. “No, Beth. I need you to stay safe. If anything happened to you...” He trailed off, unable to voice the thoughts that haunted him.
Her expression softened, and she reached up to cup his cheek.
“I know,” she whispered, her eyes shimmering with emotion. “But I need you to be safe too. I can’t lose you, Banic. I just can’t.”
He leaned into her touch, savoring the warmth of her skin against his.
“You won’t,” he said, his voice low and rough. “I promise. I will come back to you, Beth. I will always come back to you.”
“You better,” she said fiercely. “Or I’ll come after you myself.”
He chuckled.
“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” he murmured and pressed a swift, hard kiss to her lips. “Now stay here. And if things go wrong, you run. You get to the surface, and find a shuttle to get to the northern continent. Promise me.”
She hesitated, searching his face desperately. He could see her trying to form arguments in her mind, but finally, she nodded. “I promise.”
He gave her another quick kiss, her lips clinging to his, and then turned and stalked down the corridor after the aliens. They caught up with them at the next intersection, watching them walk down the corridor away from their small group. Banic narrowed his eyes, counting. He saw ten in total, each one a hulking mass of muscle and armor with faces twisted into snarls of Rage.
“We need to take them out fast,” Zeke muttered, his yellow eyes glinting in the dim light. “Before they can sound the alarm.”
Banic nodded, his gaze flicking to Sy and Zeke. “You two, circle around and come at them from the front. Kal, Tor, and I will hit them from behind.”
The two older Izaeans nodded. A second later, they were gone, moving like shadows to slip through the darkness with deadly grace. Adrenaline surged through Banic’s veins as he crept up behind the aliens, his sword gripped tightly in his hand.
And then, with a roar that shook the very walls, he started the attack.
The aliens reacted with lightning speed, their weapons flashing in the dim light as they met the Izaeans’ charge. The clash of metal on metal rang out, echoing through the corridor like thunder.
He lost himself in the fight. His body sang, moving on pure instinct as he dodged and parried, his claws a blur in the air. The Rage rose within him like a terrible, unstoppable force. Glee filled him as a red haze descended over his vision, and he tore into the aliens with a savagery that would have terrified Beth if she’d witnessed it. Which was why he’d made her wait behind.
She didn’t need to see this side of him.
A scream of agony cut through the chaos—a sound that made his blood run cold. He whirled around as Tor crumpled to the floor, nearly sliced in half by the blade of an alien almost twice his side.
Kal bellowed in pain and fury, lunging forward. Banic leapt into his path, wrapping an arm around the teen’s waist to stop him charging to his death like his friend.
But Tor wasn’t dead. Even as they watched, the young Izaean’s hand closed around the blade that had nearly killed him. A bloodied grin split his face, and black tendrils snaked out from the wound in his abdomen, knitting the flesh back together before Banic’s very eyes.
When Tor looked up, his eyes were no longer the mismatched green and purple they had been. They glowed a deep, pulsing red, the same color as the Rage that burned within Banic’s own veins. He lashed out and upward, the new claws that burst from the ends of his fingers finding the gap between the armor plates on the alien’s neck. Black blood cascaded down the creature’s chest as it dropped to its knees, clutching at its ruined throat.
“And then there were three,” the Rage voice hissed in Banic’s mind, a note of dark satisfaction in its tone. “Welcome back, brother.”
Tor’s head snapped up, his gaze locking with Banic’s. At that moment, he knew the boy wasn’t in control. The Rage had taken over.
“Brother?” he queried his own Rage.
“Talk later. Kill enemy now,” the voice ordered.
With three ferals now fighting side by side, the tide of the battle turned in a heartbeat. Banic, Tor, and Sy moved with a synchronicity that was as terrifying as it was exhilarating, their bodies flowing around each other in a deadly dance of claws, teeth, and raw, unleashed power.
They tore into their enemy with a savagery that would have been horrifying to any other species in the galaxy. But he felt no remorse, no pity. These draanthic had come to their planet, had attacked their people, and now, they would pay the price for that audacity.
His Rage sang within him, a symphony of bloodlust and primal fury that vibrated through every cell in his body. Every muscle. Every bone. The thing within was through with words, it’s bloodlust a feeling… an urge… a need in his very bones. He snarled as he reveled in the feeling of his claws sinking into alien flesh and the hot spray of blood against his face as he ripped and tore with a ferocious abandon that bordered on ecstasy.
The Rage urged him on, glorying in the carnage and slaughter. And for once, he didn’t fight it, didn’t try to push it down or hold it back. He let it flow through him instead, let it sharpen his instincts and guide his claws until he was nothing more than an avatar of death and destruction.
Together, the three ferals painted the corridor black with alien blood, their bodies moving in a blur of motion that was almost too fast for the eye to follow. They dodged and weaved around each other, anticipating each other’s moves with an uncanny precision that spoke of a bond that wasn’t friendship or camaraderie. It was sheer instinct granted to them by the things that inhabited their blood.
And when the last alien finally fell, its body hitting the ground with a dull, meaty thud, Banic threw his head back and roared his triumph. The sound echoed through the corridor, a primal cry of victory and rage-filled defiance that shook the walls themselves.
He stood there, his chest heaving as blood dripped from his claws while he looked around. They had won this battle, had protected their own and sent a message to any who would dare threaten them. His head tilted to the side as he spotted the two small bodies, twisted and broken, at the side of the corridor where the wall met the floor. He blinked, forcing the Rage back enough so he could reach his emotions and feel sorrow for two young lives cut short.
One of the surviving younglings, a boy with wide, haunted eyes, stumbled forward, his voice shaking as he spoke. He couldn’t have been more than eight rotations old, and a vicious slice down his cheek dripped blood.
“Some of the adults are making a stand in the great hall,” he said, his words tumbling over each other in his haste to get them out. “They’re trying to hold off the aliens.”
“Then that’s where we’re going,” he growled, his voice low and deadly. “We’re not leaving anyone behind.”
He glanced back at Beth as she joined them from her hiding place, taking in the way her face had paled as she wrapped her arms around herself to stop her hands shaking. But the instant she saw the children, she rushed to them, gathering them together and checking out their wounds.
He rubbed at the center of his chest as a warm feeling spread out from the center. She’d been attacked by aliens, was in fear for her life, and her first instinct was to protect. She would make a wonderful mother to their young.
“Stay close to me,” he moved in closer to tell her, his voice brooking no argument. “And if things go south, you run. You hear me? You run, and you don’t look back.”
She swallowed hard and then nodded, a fierce determination settling over her features.
“I won’t need to. I’m not leaving you,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Not now, not ever.”
Banic’s heart clenched, a surge of emotion rising up in his throat. He wanted to tell her how much she meant to him, how much he loved her, but he didn’t have time.
“Right, let’s go,” he said instead, his voice rough with all the things he couldn’t say. He motioned to the rest of the group. “Form up. We’ve got a fight to finish.”
?
Beth herded the children along the dimly lit corridors, her shoulders tight and the hairs on the back of her neck raised. The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood and the acrid tang of smoke, making her eyes water and her throat constrict.
“It’s going to be okay,” she murmured to the group of boys around her, forcing a smile to her lips. “We’re going to get you somewhere safe. I promise.”
The words were automatic—hollow and meaningless. She couldn’t promise that after everything they’d seen, and she knew it. But she said the words anyway, probably as much to comfort herself as them.
Her legs trembled with exhaustion, her stomach churning with nausea as they picked their way through the carnage. Bodies littered the corridors, both Izaean and alien, like broken toys. She tried not to look too closely… tried to block out the gaping wounds and the sticky pools of blood that squelched beneath her shoes if she was careless enough to step into one.
“Stay close,” she murmured, making sure the younger boys were in the middle of the group. The last thing she needed was for any of them to wander off and get lost. Get picked up by any of the asshole aliens if they were still out there.
She glanced forward to where Banic and his group moved with a lethal grace, their muscles coiled and ready for action. They scanned the corridors with a predatory intensity, the set of their bodies saying they were ready for anything. Only Kal and Zeke carried weapons now. The others had their claws fully extended. Once more, she wished humans weren’t so small and weak in comparison to other species. Why couldn’t she have signed up to be a Scorperio pilot or something? A tank suit would come in real handy right about now.
“They held each chokepoint as long as they could,” Banic said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine.
Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Tor and Sy. It was like looking at different people to the ones she’d come to know. It wasn’t just the glowing red eyes and gore-streaked claws. They moved differently now as well. Tor’s gawky adolescent awkwardness, the one like his growing body was new and unfamiliar, was gone. It was replaced with a predatory grace, barely leashed violence in all his movements. It was a stark reminder of the mutation that lurked within all Izaeans, the madness… the otherness that could take them over at any moment.
She shuddered and kept her gaze averted, not daring to meet their eyes for fear of what she might find there. But her mind raced with questions, and she kept sneaking glances at them as the group rested.
The black armor that encased Tor’s torso was new, and she itched to take a closer look. From the blood marking his skin and what she knew of the black tissue, it formed in response to injury, and she winced at the huge slash of black across the teen’s torso. He must have been almost cut in half and only dropping into madness, letting the Rage take over, had saved his life.
“Take cover,” Banic growled suddenly from the front of the group, and they scattered as he extinguished the nearest torches to plunge the corridor into darkness.
Grabbing two of the young boys, she shoved them against a door, covering them with her body as she crouched down, trying to make as small a target as possible. Her eyes were wide as she tried to see what was going on.
“Movement up ahead,” Kal murmured as he joined her and the boys in the meager cover offered by the doorway. If they got out of this alive, she was so talking to the architect of this place to make doorways at least three feet deep to give them a chance.
While they were at it, she would see what they could do about extra weapons caches and some internal defenses in case this happened again. If they got out of this alive, of course. She could make all the plans in the world, but they wouldn’t make any difference if they were dead.
Her gut twisted at the thought, pain lancing through her to strike her heart at the very thought of Banic lying dead on the floor… or Kal… or Tor, or Zeke and Sy. Or any of the others around them. She had seen enough death in the last hour to last her a lifetime.
“Can you see what’s going on?” She turned her head to ask Kal. She could barely make him out in the shadows.
He shrugged slightly. “Banic and Sy are moving forward,” he said, giving her a running commentary of the action. “Tor’s holding back. It’s the arrowhead attack formation… we train for this. If anyone gets past the first two, the last warrior is the backstop. Last line of defense.”
“Oh…” she bit her lip. Tor was so young for such a responsibility.
“Is he okay… Tor, I mean?”
She felt more than heard Kal’s sharp intake of breath. “He should’ve died,” the teen admitted in a low voice. “One of the aliens nearly cut him in half. But his Rage took over, wrapped that black armor around him. I think… I don’t know… it’s not Tor.”
Her heart ached at the little note in his voice, sorrow for the loss of his friend. She put her hand on his arm. “He’ll come back,” she promised, even though she couldn’t say that for certain. “The Rage… it’s something else. It’s not madness. It’s possible to live with it.”
Even in the darkness, she felt his attention shift to her. He focused intently on her, on her words.
“Yeah?” She heard the hope in his voice. “Like… he wouldn’t have to go to the northern continent? He could still live here... with me?”
She kept her expression level. She couldn’t see in the darkness… but everybody else could. Which meant her face was on public display. “I don’t know. I don’t think he would have to, what with training and everything. But it would be a decision for the powers that be to make.”
“Hold! Don’t move another step,” a deep voice ordered up ahead, the rumbling snarl filling the vines of the corridor. Banic. “We have you covered. Step out slowly, hands up.”
Kal shifted ahead of her to get a better look.
“Looks like more survivors,” he said over his shoulder. “They look pretty beat up.”
The lights flared on again, and she blinked in the sudden brightness. A small group of Izaeans stood in the corridor up ahead with Banic, Tor, and Sy. Zeke and Kal were back here with her, covering the rear and protecting the children.
She flicked an assessing glance over the new group. They were battered and bloodied and looked like they’ve been fighting for days, but to a man they stood tall. She couldn’t see any evidence of major injury.
“What’s the plan?” one of them asked, his voice hoarse with exhaustion and strain.
All eyes turned to Banic. He was the biggest of them, even the ferals. She’d noticed that the Izaeans somehow automatically knew who was in charge, even without any uniforms or any other context. It was like they knew instinctively. It didn’t seem to have anything to do with physical size or build. Whatever it was, she was utterly fascinated by how they organized themselves.
“Report,” Banic ordered. “You’re the first survivors we’ve found.”
“We were attacked coming back in from patrol,” one of the survivors said, gesturing to the weapons they carried. “That’s why we’re armed. It’s the only reason we survived.”
“Did you lose anyone?” Banic asked.
The survivor nodded. “We lost four.”
Her gaze flicked over the group. Holy shit. There were six in the new group, which meant these aliens had killed four highly trained and lethal berserkers, which the rest of the galaxy literally saw as the bogeymen.
Banic frowned and turned to Zeke. “What’s the standard protocol in the event of an attack?”
“Honestly?” The lab tech’s reply was a bitter, humorless laugh. “There isn’t one. I mean, who would dare attack us? Here?”
“What if we’d attacked… the ferals I mean.”
Zeke snorted. “From the northern continent? With Kraath and a sea full of t’kraknor between here and there?”
Banic grunted. “Good point.”
“There’s no official standard protocol for an attack on the fortress. But most of us have served in the combat units on the warships,” Zeke continued. “So my guess is they’d have gone into T’Nasis protocol.”
Beth frowned at the unfamiliar word, her translator struggling to make sense of it. That happened sometimes, actually, quite a lot. Enough that she checked in the database for the specifications on the translation modules. Apparently, sometimes there was not a direct translation from Latharian to Terran, so it didn’t translate the word at all. She heard the Latharian version. Most of the time she could get the meaning of the word from the context of the conversation. Sometimes, though, like now, it was frustrating not being able to understand everything being said, but she didn’t want to ask for clarification on exactly what T’Nasis protocol involved.
“So they’re going to secure the main hall,” Banic said. “Does the cabling for all the systems run through there like it would in a colony primary hall?”
Zeke nodded. “Under the floor. Even without a comms console, they’d be able to access outside comms from there with a maintenance patch-in.”
“Good. Let’s move then.”