Captain Varin Mordin, The Colony, Two Days Earlier
The stinging cold of transport faded, and I fell into a battle crouch.
“Clear the transport room! He’s not in control!” I shouted the warning even as my oldest friend, Thomar Arcas, bellowed with battle rage and leaped toward the transport officer.
Thank the gods two Atlan guards stood between the Viken officer and the contaminated warrior. In this state Thomar would kill without a second thought.
“The transport origin station said he was sedated!” the Viken yelled as I struggled to hold Thomar back with both arms wrapped around his waist.
“He was! I warned them this would happen. They didn’t fucking listen.” Thomar was not in control. The collars we wore connected us, mind to mind, but with the chaos of our recent escape and multiple transports on our way to The Colony, he was lost to his rage, memories of our torture. He saw enemies everywhere.
The agony of his implants consumed him.
“Dr. Surnen to transport. Now!” One of the Atlans yelled the command. I assumed some kind of comm system would activate and relay the message. We needed the doctor and enough sedative to take out ten Atlans.
Thomar fought me. Broke free.
“Thomar! Stop!” I tackled my friend before the two Atlans had a chance to react. Thomar was in no condition to be here, yet I’d refused to allow him to die, argued with the medical officers on the battleship, convinced them to give him a chance. Dr. Surnen was on The Colony. He was the foremost expert on Hive integrations and their removal. If anyone could save Thomar, it would be Surnen and his medical team.
Perhaps I had made a mistake.
I grappled with my friend, keeping my mind calm as I attempted to reach the part of him that was still Prillon, still male. Still sane.
“Thomar, it’s me, Varin. Stop fighting me!”
“Hive! I can hear them!” He shoved me off and to the side, but I pulled him with me, rolling both of us off the transport platform, down some steps, and onto the floor. The two Atlans approached, but I held up my hand to stop them.
“Don’t! I won’t be able to bring him out of it.”
“We can handle him,” one of the Atlans assured me.
“No, you can’t. Trust me.” I wasn’t sure what they had done to Thomar, not completely, but he could tear metal walls down, rip ships into pieces with his bare hands, and lift entire shuttle craft. He’d always been a powerful warrior. The Arcas family of Prillon Prime was infamous for a reason, their battle prowess the most well-known and the most feared.
The collar around my neck gave me an all too familiar glimpse into Thomar’s state of mind. The collars were sacred to Prillon males, meant only to be shared with a mate once we claimed her. The Hive had other ideas. They had trapped Thomar and me in a cruel experiment from which there had been no escape. They’d used our mating collars against us, locked us mind-to-mind to discover how much we could endure, how much of our agony transferred to the other, how much stronger we were together. They’d taken our mating collars and turned them into weapons, implanted them beneath flesh and bone so there was no way we could remove them without bleeding to death.
I refused to choose death for us. And Thomar? He was too fucking strong and far too stubborn to die.
We’d lost count of the days, the nights. After our escape, we’d been picked up by a ReCon team and transferred to a medical ship. But even they could not help us. Our only hope was The Colony and Dr. Surnen, a Prillon famous in the Coalition for saving many contaminated warriors and fighters. Even a few Atlans. He was our last chance. Our only chance.
Thomar threw me off, shoving me straight up into the air so high that my back hit the ceiling of the transport room. “Damn it, Thomar!”
He was on his feet before I crashed back to the floor. I managed to land in a crouch, but the Atlans hadn’t listened. They were in beast form, advancing on Thomar’s position.
“Don’t touch him! I’m warning you.”
“I am a warlord. I fear no Prillon warrior.” The Atlan who spoke was, indeed, massive. His uniform had the name Warlord Rezzer displayed on his chest.
“He is not a Prillon warrior. He is more.”
Rezzer ignored me, stepping toward Thomar.
The two circled one another, and I stepped between them. “Stop. He will kill you.”
“We shall see.”
Thomar grabbed me from behind, and I turned, grappling with him, trying with every fiber of my being to stop the impending fight. I’d seen Atlans on the battlefield. I knew this Rezzer could tear an ordinary Prillon warrior in half with little effort. But Thomar was more machine than male. The Hive Integration Units had worked on both of us for more than two years. Every fucking day. I doubted the Atlan could defeat me in my current state, and Thomar had always been half a head taller and fucking ruthless in battle.
“Thomar Arcas, Son of Satmar, on your honor, Prillon, stand down!”