Vexing Voss:Coletti Warlords 03(20)

"Holy hell, they're gonna breach the hull."                       
       
           



       

Hothar teleported over, closed, and locked the door. "We need to find the Hus Ping's control center."

I dashed to the bar, and sure enough an antiquated system was built into  the counter. Hmmm. If I closed this hatch here, it would trap them in  the airlock, and if Bebo didn't eat them all, with one touch of a button  I could expel them into space. Good thing the Gorum could teleport.

Hothar popped in beside me and tapped an icon. A picture of the airlock  formed midair. A kicking foot disappeared down Bebo's maw, and he began  to radiate a yellowish glow.

Movement on a view screen caught my attention. "Well, lookie at that. I think the cowards are making a run for it."

Hitting another icon, Hothar brought up the exterior scanner. The  Tai-Kok ship released its docking clamps and eased back from the  station.

I scanned it and linked with Bebo. "Do you have room for dessert?"

"Always."

I flashed him a mental picture of the ship and the six warriors onboard. "Do you have enough power to teleport?"

The Gorum vanished from the view screen. I guess that would be a yes.

The Tai-Kok ship shot back from the space station and engaged its warp  engines. Thirty seconds later it was gone. I sure hoped Bebo knew how to  pilot a starship.

One look at the gore-covered floor littered with body parts, and I let  out a shaky sigh of relief. "We're still alive. How amazing is that?"

"Very." Hothar picked up a bottle of Datol and chugged it down.

I grabbed one and took a long swallow. "This stuff is pretty damned good."

"Nectar of the gods," Hothar said, getting another bottle.





Chapter Ten

In the badly cracked mirror, I caught a glimpse of the blood and black  grime coating my poor battered face and let out a horrified shriek. "Oh  my God!"

Hothar whipped out his laser. "What is wrong?"

"I look like I went ten rounds with Muhammad Ali, and then got attacked by Smokey the Bear and a rabid chicken," I cried.

"What is a Smokey the Bear?"

I threw up my hands in disgust. "Just forget it."

Holstering his weapon, Hothar approached me cautiously and awkwardly  patted my shoulder. "Once the Battle Commander gives you blood, your  injuries will heal quickly."

"Yippee." One glance at his blackened face and a reluctant smile tugged at my sore mouth. "We make quite a pair."

With a grin, Hothar plucked several eggshells from my hair. "When it is time for me to pick a mate, I want one like you."

"Aw, that's so sweet, but Earth girls aren't easy to catch."

"Coletti warriors enjoy a good hunt."

"Earth girls don't like being the prey either," I countered with a frown.

"But it makes the capture much more satisfying."

"Uh-huh. That merge with Zarek has warped your brain just a bit."

A joyful glee lit up Hothar's eyes. "It has given me skills that would have taken me years to acquire."

Just what the universe needed, a teenager with all of Zarek's talents.  Voss would have to keep a close eye on him. "Does this piece of crap  have a bathroom?"

"A very crude one."

"How crude?"

Hothar laughed. "A piss hole."

"Technology at its finest, huh?"

"The Hus Ping are scavengers who use what other species throw away to survive."

"Sounds like a disaster waiting to happen."

"Everyone is very surprised this space station still functions," Hothar said, playing with the controls.

"Me too. I thought for sure we'd have a hull breach during that  firefight." I surveyed the funky-looking drink nozzles. They kind of  reminded me of water hoses. One of them had to be water. Right?

I picked up a nozzle and triggered it. Whoa! The thing came alive in my  hand, bucking and twisting as it shot some nasty-smelling black liquid  across the bar. "Help!"

Hothar reached over and hit the Off button.

"Thanks. There's way too much pressure on that thing."

"Kipto Piss must be pressurized or it goes bad."

I wrinkled my nose. "Smells like really stinky feet."                       
       
           



       

"Tastes like it too."

Very cautiously I tried the other nozzles. Nope. Zip. Nada. No wonder  the space station stank to high heavens. There was no water.

I sucked down another Datol and looked for something to clean my face  with. The few ratty rags on the bar were slimy and a yucky green color.  Cleanliness evidently wasn't in the Hus Pings' vocabulary.

The only things in the dozen or so drawers were dirty glasses and  utensils. One peek into the Hus Pings' private quarters, and I hastily  shut the door. It smelled like something had died in there and they had  forgotten to bury it.

My stomach rumbled loudly, and I ambled back to the bar and looked for  something to eat. There were several pots sitting on what resembled an  old-fashioned Earth camp stove. I removed the lid and almost puked. It  was full of eyeballs and what looked like worms. Ewww.

The other pot held some kind of rancid-smelling stew that all the chocolate in the universe couldn't get me to taste.

A basket of breadsticks caught my gaze. I picked one up and smelled it.  It wasn't rancid. I took a cautious bite and immediately spat it out. Oh  dear God, it was like eating moldy poop. Ugh. That was just plain  nasty. I grabbed a bottle of Datol and drained it, trying to get the  taste out of my mouth.

A tremendous power flooded the bar, and I felt Zarek's shock as he scanned the space station. "What happened?"

"A Gorum got loose, and the Tai-Kok ran away. Except for the ones Bebo ate, spikes and all."

Hothar groaned.

The Overlord sifted through my memories and growled in utter disbelief, "You released the Gorum?"

"You bet your ass I did, and Bebo ate the Tai-Kok just like he promised.  Problem solved, and we have the space station all to ourselves."

"Bebo the warrior king?"

"That would be him."

"Your luck is truly amazing."

"Not that I've noticed. I mean, everyone I've loved has gotten killed,  and then you guys show up and …  Um, never mind. It's not important, but  Voss could really use some help, sir. His shields are failing."

"I am aware of that. We will discuss your actions later."

"Okeydokey, smoky."

His eyes full of horrified alarm, Hothar backed away from me. What? Did  he think the Overlord was going to smite me? Okay, it was a distinct  possibility.

Zarek asked a little too calmly, "How many Datols have you consumed?"

Good question. "Three, I think. No. More like four or maybe five.  There's no water on this stupid piece of space junk, and I'm really  thirsty."

"No more Datol for either of you."

"Spoilsport," I muttered under my breath. A sharp pain suddenly zapped me in the butt. I let out a yelp and jumped about a foot.

Steel in his voice, Zarek asked, "Do I have your attention now?"

"Yes, sir, no more beer."

"Excellent. We will come for you shortly." Poof, the pain in my ass was gone.

"You are truly insane," Hothar said.

"Am not." I tripped over a broken chair and would have fallen flat on my face if Hothar hadn't caught me.

He plunked me on the bar. "You are also drunk."

"I'll admit I'm a bit buzzed, but drunk? No way."

Taking his bodyguard duties way too seriously, Hothar snatched my bottle of Datol. "Are you even able to fight?"

Rolling my eyes, I checked on the big guy again. Drats! Voss was still  shooting it out with the Rodan battle cruiser. His shields were now down  to 30 percent, and if he took a direct hit on his starboard side, he  would lose life support on several decks. Was he worried? Hell no.

Zarek had joined the fight and was hammering the shit out of the battle cruiser's engines.

I whooped loudly when the port engine blew, and almost fell off the bar  when Hothar let out a fierce battle cry. The kid had a set of lungs on  him. I guess his link with the Overlord allowed him to watch the battle  too.

Zarek unleashed another bombardment of torpedoes on the battle cruiser, and it disintegrated into a cloud of vaporized metal.

Hothar and I exchanged high fives.

"They have never lost a battle," he exclaimed proudly.

My radar went on alert. Aw c'mon, enough is enough.                       
       
           



       

With a low growl, Hothar whipped out his pistol.

A very bloody Sargon and three of his beat-all-to-hell warriors suddenly  appeared. Their stunned gazes traveled around the trashed bar.