Chapter Fifteen
Vyken
I have a plan.
I think I know what’s going on here, and I just need to make sure I’m correct, but if I am … it’s good news. No -- it’s great news.
But it means we have to leave the safety of this tent and creep around when the attackbot is out there, lurking, and I don’t know whether it’s safest to keep Roxie with me or to leave her in the safety of the tent. What if the tent isn’t truly safe? What if she’s discovered as a live being by the robot and I’m nowhere nearby? I shake my head, trying to rid it of the awful images. But if she’s with me, that’s dangerous too.
I might have come up with a theory all on my own, but it looks like I’m still struggling with how to keep others safe under my control. What if I never figure this out? Then, it seems, I’m not cut out to be a General after all.
When Wrax pardons me for this crime -- and I can’t wait for that, by the way -- I will ask him quietly to demote me. I don’t want to have to care for a crew when I don’t even know how to keep the first woman I’ve cared for this much safe.
I grit my teeth and nod to her. “I’m going to have to take … to leave … to take--” I cut myself off with a wave of my arms in the air. Damn everything!
“Vyken?” she asks, getting up onto her knees and moving closer to me. I don’t stop her, but I don’t reach out to touch her either. As much as I might want to. And that’s a lot. “What’s going on?” She curls her arms around my neck and the touch of her warm skin sends jolts of electricity through me. Her scent -- sweet and spicy like the highest mountain flowers back on Paxia -- fills my nostrils and instantly I’m hard as fucking meteorite.
Her touch and her closeness calms me more than I thought possible, and I turn my gaze on hers. Her eyes are big and wide with concern, her lashes thick and dark, and staring into them makes me feel like I can make no wrong decisions. Like everything must be perfect if I get to be here, with her.
She brushes her lips against mine and I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her close, nipping at her lower lip with my teeth so she makes that soft throaty noise I like so much.
“I’m coming with you,” she whispers. “Just so you know.”
I pull away and look at her. This smart, headstrong, impossible, wonderful woman. “I’m certain you would just follow me if I left you here.”
She pouts, and then smiles. Her eyes sparkle. “You know me so well already.”
“We have to get past the bot. That will be almost impossible, so we might as well go for speed over stealth. Once we get below the bowels of the planet we can only hope for some protection from the Oracle, if he happens to be awake.” I rub the bridge of my nose. This situation is less than ideal.
Roxie holds up the fragment of green plantlife again, right under my nose, and smiles.
“You’re right,” I say gruffly. “We must have hope.”
We travel as fast as we can, together, over the difficult terrain until we come to the opening in the dirt that leads downwards towards the tunnels that hold the Oracle. The sun is just about to creep back up over the horizon already, indicating that our night of chill is almost over and I was able to keep Roxie warm and safe…
...so far.
Just as we are about to hop into the tunnel systems once again, a mechanical baying echoes around the planet nearby -- too nearby. It’s caught onto our trail and now it is required by its programming to track us and eliminate us. The war cry was literally created in a lab to be intimidating to its foes, and it’s working.
“Vyken…” Roxie says, tension in her voice that makes my fists clench.
“In,” I command her. She watches with wide eyes as I draw my weapon from my belt. A blaster gun set like a lobster claw aside a sturdy steel sword zips out to its full length and with a high-pitched scree noise it begins to charge as I lift it to eye level.
“Here, doggie doggie,” I imitate in my best English, and I stride back and forth.
“Vyken, I don’t--”
“I said in,” I repeat, turning back to her. Her eyes harden at my command, and I let out a breath. “Find what you can; that’s where your skills are best suited.” I swallow. “Please.”
She must hear the pain in my voice, the genuine desperation, because she shakes her head, squeezes my arm in solidarity, and turns to disappear down into the tunnels.
Just in time.
I’m thrown off my feet by a flurry of whirring razor blades attached to a segmented chrome colored snout. Instincts kick in and my leg comes up before my suit can be pierced by ‘teeth’, catching the bot’s center of gravity and launching it up off of me, but causing it no harm. Damn.
I manage to just about lift the blast gun an inch before it springs back to pin me again. Its main attack procedure is to pin and rip out the throat. If that fails, it begins to use its ammo. My training is coming back to me -- it has been many years since I even thought about facing off against a Suhlik attackbot.
Its heavy feet land on my chest again, pushing air from my lungs and making me see white spots momentarily. I see the blinking facial panel and the whirring ear satellites, and instead of kicking it off me, I waste precious seconds and swirl my sword through the air. It is razor sharp, just as the deadly teeth are, and it whips off the two ears in one swipe. The dog is disoriented from that, and tilts its head, digging its fangs into the dirt beside me when I give it a push.
Those were its comms devices, too. Now if the kill takes too long, the bot won’t be able to call for help from its ship. I blow out a breath and wrestle it off my body, springing to my feet and swinging my sword again, lashing it in the lower jaw. The bot turns and snaps at me, its whirring teeth grinding and sparking.
“Gotcha,” I say. Avoid the jaws. Take out the comms. What was the next step?
Two little barrels click upwards from its shoulder blades and its face panel flashes red. Dammit! Gatling guns whir and ready themselves. I have less than a second. I throw myself on the floor and roll diagonally towards it. It snaps its jaws again, teeth sparking from my blow. I lift my blaster and let a fully charged blast go, hitting it square in the neck and ripping a hole in its body.
I roll across the dirt once more, listening to my blaster. A Mahdfel is finely tuned in to his weaponry, and I know the sound of my gun wailing for more time to charge. I also know the sound of it reaching acceptable capacity. Not ideal power, but I can’t afford to wait any longer. The guns pepper the dirt all around me with holes, blowing dust into the air, and I throw my bulk once again in an agile roll, landing on my feet in a crouch and firing for the exact same spot.
Circuitry bursts and sparks and the attackbot sputters and lowers its head, the sound of its systems shutting down almost eerily alike a mammalian whine.
“Goodnight,” I say, almost feeling guilty for felling it like that. I pause to pull in a deep breath, knowing I’m a little rusty in combat. If there had been more than one attackbot I would certainly have struggled.
I grit my teeth -- I’m becoming only as powerful as the average Mahdfel warrior? Impossible. I square my shoulders. I am a General, after all.
And now my mission has become even clearer than ever.
I’m coming for Roxie, and we’re finishing this. After that, come what may, I’m going to tell her how I feel. I feel every cell in my body screaming out for her, no matter what else my mind is occupied by.
Her safety has become more important than my own -- if that isn’t love, then dammit, I don’t know what is.