Page 66

Loka smirked. “You have enough advantages in a fight.” Galaxars’ genetic modifications made them superior fighting machines. “Although maybe not when you get distracted by a good looking female.”

Padam laughed. “Too true. You can remove a cyborg’s limbs. I’ve seen Solan do it. You yank and twist, and the sparks go flying. There are enough of us here to do that. We can take them.”

Loka looked around the group again. “Is everybody with me?”

There were enough nods to convince him.

“Anyone with natural weapons at the front.” Loka pointed at his horns and flashed his claws. “You don’t want to hurt anybody other than the cyborgs. Everybody else forms two lines behind us. Those least injured go behind me and everyone else behind them. Get the unconscious ones to the back, so they don’t get trampled.”

The aliens moved into action, shifting bodies before joining the waiting battle party.

Loka was joined at the front of the group by the injured Galaxar, who shrugged and smiled. “I can never resist a battle, even when I’m a little disadvantaged.”

Loka decided not to comment on Padam’s broken arm being more than a little disadvantage. He was joined by Hoan, the rest of the Galaxars, and was surprised to see the Forka join them.

“You’re fighting?”

The Forka’s murky dark eyes slid to him, the irises rimmed with red. “I fight for myself. I have unfinished business on this station.”

“Typical Forka,” Hoan muttered, “out for themselves.”

“Be careful what you say.” The Forka flicked Hoan’s horn. “I’ve always fancied a pair of your horns mounted on my wall.”

“Just try it, vampire.”

Loka touched Hoan’s elbow. “Everyone stick to the plan. Aim for the cyborgs only.” His gaze cut to the Forka. “No exceptions.”

The Forka bowed his head.

Loka turned to face the waiting group. “We divide into two groups. Each group focus on a cyborg. I’ll take the group on the left. Hoan here will lead the other group. We take out their weapons first, then get them on the ground and out of action.”

“We rip them apart,” Padam said, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Do your worst,” Loka said. “I need to get out of here in one piece to save my female.”

Several of his cellmates chuckled and nudged each other. Loka didn’t care what they thought. He had a reason to get out without being too badly injured. Heather was out there somewhere, and he had to get her back safely.

The tension in the cell continued to creep up as the minutes ticked by. Nobody spoke. They simply waited, all facing the door, ready for when it opened.

“Here they come,” Hoan muttered.

Loka glanced over his shoulder. “Everybody ready. We get one chance at this.” They’d be at a disadvantage trying to cram through the door to reach the cyborgs. Loka planned on spearing the cyborg with his horns and getting him out of the way, so the others could attack.

He glanced at Hoan, who nodded and tapped his horns.

Everyone seemed to hold their breath as the door locks clicked open.

The faces of three bloody, startled aliens stood in front of Loka.

“Get out of the way.” Loka charged, his head down, hearing the startled gasps of the new prisoners as they leaped to the side to avoid being impaled.

Loka’s hands clamped over the cold metal of the cyborg’s wrist, preventing it from raising the laser it held. Loka’s horns speared through the cyborg’s chest with a satisfying crunch as they smashed back against the wall.

Several bodies slammed into him as the other aliens joined in. He heard the laser clatter to the ground as the cyborg lost its grip, but he kept hold of the cyborg’s arm in case it tried to crush him or someone else.

Punches and kicks flew through the air, some landing too close to Loka.

He yanked his head back. He couldn’t move. His horn was stuck. With the force of his blow, it had speared through the cyborg into the wall behind it. Loka was pinned to the cyborg as it fought back against the flurry of attack from the others.