“Let me get you out of there.”
Tears welled in her eyes, obscuring her vision. She dashed them away. Don’t be weak, now, Mel. Later, she could grieve later. Right now, she had to get her father out of here and into the catacombs, a much more defensible position. The cannon no longer fired. The Antareans would land and send out search parties for survivors.
“Go, Melina mou.” He coughed, frothy blood covered his lips and chin. “I’m dying—and I will not leave your mama.”
“Papa, no!” Her tears came back with a vengeance, streaming down her dirty cheeks.
“I need you. Come with me.” With a strength she hadn’t known she possessed, she pulled a large piece of the dome superstructure off him.
His bloody hand reached for her and brushed at her tears. “No crying, Melina mou.
You can’t let them find you. You can’t let them … win.” He smiled at her. “Be strong, Melina. Live well. Mama and I … will watch over you … from beyond.” He smiled at her, closed his eyes then turned his bloody face into her mother’s hair.
With his last breath, he sighed, “Irina.”
Screaming her anguish, she threw herself onto her parent’s bodies. Seconds passed.
Possibly minutes. Seconds or minutes she did not have. She didn’t want to leave them, but she had to. All her instincts and training told her to move.
Touching their dear faces, breathing in their familiar scent one last time, a calming warmth stole over her. Their souls had gone to be with their God now. They were safe—
no one could hurt them any longer.
Shoving away, she covered them as best she could. She didn’t want the Antareans to desecrate their bodies. She would come back and give them a proper burial.
Saying a silent prayer, she left them to check for any other survivors in the secondary dome. She found none.
After leaving the smaller structure, she hurried back through the main room. She packed some fresh food and water—there were other supplies hidden in the catacombs for just such an emergency. She could hide and survive until Wulf came for her, or the Alliance responded to the distress call.
Entering the communications room, which had somehow survived the blasts, she coded the distress call, put it on a permanent loop, and then fixed the equipment so the enemy couldn’t turn it off. She hid the machine inside a compartment built into the rock floor of the main dome. Then she set the booby trap. Any lizard-bastard that tried to open it would get an unwelcome, and fatal, surprise.
The Antarean ship was making its landing approach. Because of the size of the ship, they would have to land on the dry lake about fifty kilometers away. Depending on the land vehicles they carried, they could be here in less than thirty minutes. She wanted to be underground well before then; she had traps to arm.
They’d look for her body. Not finding it—they’d search for her. She looked forward to it. They would pay for killing her parents and the innocent scientists.
Someone had told them about her. But who? The rebels wanting to punish Wulf and his family for the treaty with the Alliance? Possibly. But why would the rebels deal with Antareans? No, it had to be someone else. Maybe someone who had it in for her? Hell, she had to have enemies after seven years in the military, who didn’t? But she couldn’t think of anyone in particular.
Whoever it was had access to her file, or to Wulf’s family—or to Alliance and Prime confidential communications.
Another traitor. She only hoped she’d live long enough to tell Wulf. He’d be furious.
She smiled grimly—it was nice to know that if she died, he’d avenge her.
Hefting a damaged door aside, she rushed into her room and picked up her military duffle, which she hadn’t totally unpacked. Shoving the precious data disks her parents had given her from the Prime ship that crashed with her all those years ago into the pack, she ran into the main dome.
Her last stop before entering a secret way into the catacombs was the dig’s cache of weapons and explosives, including the latest in Prime technology: a dart gun that pierced reptilian-species hides. It delivered a lethal poison, killing the bastards instantly. She hadn’t asked her father how he had come by it; she was just glad he had.
She holstered the dart gun and loaded ammunition for it, along with some of the explosives into another pack. Slipping out of the dome, she used the natural cover for as long as she could, then sprinted across the open area and entered the catacombs.
She knew the maze of tunnels well, having played hide-and-seek in them as a child with some of the other scientists’ children. She’d survive and take out as many of the enemy as she could. She had a feeling the Antarean ship had orders not to leave either without her or proof of her death.
She didn’t plan to oblige them either way.
* * * *
Wulf’s personal star cruiser, same day
“Galactic Alliance Military Command hailing Galanti II. ”
“Caradoc, here.” Wulf wondered what the Alliance wanted with him. The only radio communications he’d had in the time he’d left Tooh 10 were from his family or Maren and the Admiral with his proposal on shared command for Wulf and Melina.
“Wulf, this is Admiral Nelson. We just got a coded distress call from Obam IV.
Captain Dmitros sent it.” The Admiral paused and Wulf’s stomach clenched in fear. “Uh, Wulf, the scientific expedition has been attacked. By Antareans. We’re sending the closest Alliance battle-cruiser, it’s about two standard days away. You’re closer by more than a day. We thought you should know what you’re heading into.”
“She’s alive—you’re sure?” Wulf asked, his throat so constricted he could barely get the words out.
“She was as of a half standard hour ago. She is the only survivor. She gave no indication of her condition. All other attempts to raise her have failed.” The Admiral sighed. “She’s been trained by the best. She’ll go to ground and take out as many of them as she can. Trust in her, Wulf.”
“I’ll get Melina out of there. I’ll update status in ten standard hours. My crew will coordinate with the responding Alliance ship.”
“That would be the Leonidas. Commander Nowicki will shave every second he can off the trip. He’s pushing at full warp speed now.”
“I’m sure he is. I hope to have Melina on my ship and en route to Cejuru Prime well before he reaches Obam IV. He and the Galanti can handle the aftermath and cover our tail.”
“Good luck, Wulf.” Admiral Nelson signed off.
Wulf shoved his burning rage into the deepest part of him. Right now, he needed a cool head. He had to get to Melina as quickly as possible. Later, he’d tap into his wrath and kill every blessed Antarean that had dared to threaten his mate. Not one of the devil’s bastards would leave the planet.
Chapter Seven
Obam IV, twenty-plus standard hours post-attack
The rock wall at her back was cold and damp, the ground beneath her equally so.
Hardness aside, it still felt like the softest couch to her tired, aching body. This was the first time Mel had rested since the Antareans had landed and begun their search for survivors. For her.
Taking a drink from a bottle of water, she closed her eyes. With a shaky hand, she massaged her dirty, aching forehead. The rhythmic pounding behind her eyes would not end soon. All her senses were wide open, and had been since the attack on the planet.
Until she had either killed all the Antareans, they left, or rescue arrived, she’d have to bear the pain. As long as she was open to the emotions of an approaching enemy, she could outrun and hide from them.
The pseudo-reptilians’ emotions were primitive, but pronounced. Hatred was always the easiest emotion to read in most species. It also caused a bitch of a headache.
For now, no one was near. She could afford to take a short rest.
Mel mentally took stock of her efforts over the last twenty standard hours. She’d left the relative safety of the catacombs on several seek-and-destroy missions. Figuring that the Antarean ship had a full complement of crew at one hundred, she’d already managed to take out twenty percent of the scaly, slit-eyed bastards.
Satisfaction temporarily muffled her aches and pain like a warm woolen blanket. At this rate, she might be able to take out half before help arrived.
So far, the enemy hadn’t caught sight of her. Odds were her luck would eventually run out. She’d canted the percentages toward her side of the graph by varying the catacomb accesses she used to launch her attacks. Right now, the raiders probably thought there was more than one survivor. It was all a matter of time before her keep-them-defensive strategy failed and they decided to hit the catacombs in an all-out-assault.
She laughed silently. That would be a mistake on their part. In the catacombs, many of them would find death. She’d activated all the ancient Prime traps that still worked, which were the majority. The Prime had built their fortifications to last.
What the Prime claimed, they kept.
A telling point and one which turned her thoughts to the imprinting between Wulf and her. His body, more correctly, his neuro-sensory functions, had claimed her as a child. In his mind, she was his. She knew he wouldn’t rest until he had her in his sight and under his protection once more.
Now, whether she’d remain there or not depended upon his approach. She’d been serious when she’d left the message with Admiral Nelson about wooing.