“They seem to listen to you. I’ve seen it.” Riana was beginning to sound a little calmer.
“I don’t know about that.” All Arin had done was to try and read the situation and play her cards right. That meant not doing anything stupid, rash, or unpredictable in the presence of super-evolved killers, and keeping her soldiers in check.
What had her people beenthinking?
Seven of them had proven to be no match for a lone Kordolian.
“What did he look like?” Arin asked quietly.
“What?”
“Harris’ killer.” She forced herself to say the words, facing the harsh reality. She was under no illusions as to what the Kordolians really were. “What did he look like?”
“I-I don’t know, they all look the same to me. Silver skin, pale hair, black armor, armed to the teeth, and mean-as-hell.”
“Anything else?”
“Yellow eyes.” Riana’s voice wavered. Arin could almost picture her shuddering. The Kordolians had her Private spooked. “I think he was the one called Ry-something.”
Rykal.
Arin dropped her head into her hands and groaned. Of course it had to be him. He, of the brilliant, sharp-toothed smiles and dangerously disarming charm. She’d almost forgotten what he truly was.
A wolf in, well, wolf’s clothing.
Her protector and her enemy.
“Hold on, Riana, and for the love of Jupiter, don’t do anything stupid. I’m coming.”
CHAPTER FIVE
She was coming back to him. Rykal peered at the holoscreens as the small transport vessel came into view. It was still thousands ofkuliksaway, but it was making good time.
She had been as good as her word. Rykal hadn’t expected anything less. She was a soldier, just like him. She understood duty, but she also knew how to adapt to the situation.
Hisashikawas no fool.
Rykal found a seat, removing his large weapons and resting them on the floor as he sat down, keeping them within easy reach. He propped his legs up on an instrument panel as the freighter pilots looked at him in alarm. The control and navigation room of the freighter was surprisingly small for a vessel of this size. It was located on the uppermost level of the ship, and it was staffed by a team of about six human pilots who rotated in teams of two, taking turns to monitor the freighter’s navigation systems.
Rykal glanced back at Jeral. The warrior sat discreetly in one corner, his plasma rifle resting on his lap. His orange eyes burned through the darkness, taking in every little detail. Like most of Rykal’s colleagues, Jeral was a silent, stoic bastard atthe best of times. He didn’t talk much, and he wasn’t interested in getting friendly with the natives.
“I’ll take over here,” Rykal offered, nodding towards the human pilots, who suddenly seemed very absorbed in their data. “Go and stretch your legs. The rest of the cargo holds still need checking.”
“You sure?” Jeral’s voice was deep and slightly hoarse, as if he hadn’t used it for a very long time. He shot Rykal a pointed look, raising a questioning eyebrow.
“No problem.” Rykal shrugged but didn’t offer any explanations. No doubt Jeral had his questions; the fact that Rykal was actuallyofferingto do this kind of work was more than a little odd. Rykal had a reputation for being a bit of a restless bastard. In the early days, his inability to sit still had driven the general nuts.
“Hm.” Jeral grunted and rose up out of his seat. He didn’t ask any more questions, instead offering Rykal a grateful nod. They all hated this sort of simple watch-work, but it had to be done.
The warrior disappeared into the shadows as Rykal stretched, enjoying the feeling of his once again intact skin and exo-armor. His superficial burns were completely healed; in the end, the process had barely taxed his nanites.
Whatever that human had hit him with had been powerful. The missile’s blast had ended up melting a crater-like hole in the metal floor. Rykal shook his head. Fucking humans and their strange weapons.
“Oi, human.” He nodded towards one of the humans, a generously proportioned man with a shock of wild, curly hair.
“Y-yes?”
“How long until the transport gets here?”
