I turned back to find Rav finishing up, running a small ReGen wand over the cut he’d made in the warrior’s back. “Time?”
“Two minutes.”
Rav looked so sad, so resigned, and I knew from the anger and helplessness I felt flowing through my collar that Rav didn’t think the warrior was going to survive. “Roll him onto his back. Let’s see if he wakes up.”
They scrambled to do as Rav bid and I bit my lip, waiting to see what would happen next. The gadgets on the warrior’s arm remained dormant and I wondered what would happen to them if he survived.
Rav looked at me then, his gaze, unlike Grigg’s, hid nothing from me. He let me see everything, the pain, the helpless rage, the regret that he couldn’t do more. I could feel it.
“If he survives, I’ll remove as much as I can. But most of the damage is microscopic, biological implants too small to track or remove will have been embedded in his muscles, his bones, his eyes and skin, all designed to make him stronger, faster, his sight keener, his flesh resistant to extremes of temperature.”
“Is he—may I—” Hell, I wasn’t sure exactly what I wanted to say, but I wanted to get a closer look.
Grigg deferred to Rav, who nodded. He sighed, probably realizing he could no longer protect me from the worst. “Go ahead, Amanda. Get a good look at what the Hive can do.”
I stepped forward, my legs stiff and unsteady at first, but I waved away Grigg’s offer to assist. I wanted to see this for myself. I needed to see this.
Four steps, five, and I was beside the hulking mass of the unconscious warrior. He looked almost peaceful, his strange silver face in repose. I wandered the edges of the exam table, taking it all in, the strange metallic pieces attached to his arm, the silver hue of his skin, the complete lack of recognition or control he’d possessed before they’d put him under. He’d been insane, incoherent. Unrecognizable as—as what? I’d been thinking as a human being, but he wasn’t human, was he?
He was alien. A Prillon warrior who just a few days ago I would have called enemy. Invader. Shake-down artist.
But he was a mate to Mara. A father. A family man. A warrior who wanted peace just as much as any soldier on Earth.
Shame swirled in my heart as I realized just how fucking small Earth truly was, and how much smaller still our superstitious, frightened intellects.
I lifted my gaze to each of my mates and let my regret, my understanding flow to each of them through our shared bond. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
They both shifted, as if trying to decide exactly what to say to me now that I was no longer fighting them, no longer resisting the truth of my new life. Seeing Mara’s mate solidified this. Whatever Earth’s doubts were, they were no longer mine. I knew the
truth. I saw it firsthand. I believed the Coalition. I believed my mates.
I would need to contact the agency as soon as possible, let them know what was going on out here. The truth.
The comm unit in medical beeped, followed by a voice I recognized as that of Captain Trist. “Commander, we need you on deck. We’ve got Hive scout ships coming at us from three systems.”
Grigg looked at me and I nodded, waving him away. I was fine. They needed him to keep us all safe. While Rav saved lives in the medical unit, Grigg saved lives by commanding, leading. Running the ship, the squadron. All of us.
“Go. They need you.”
He nodded once, then turned on his heel and left me with Rav.
The saved warrior moved, a soft groan leaving his throat as I leaned over him. His eyes flickered open and I felt my own gaze widen at the bright glimmer of silver that ringed his irises, the effect similar to photos I’d seen of a solar eclipse.
“Mara.” The warrior called for his mate, but his gaze was squarely on me, and I looked nothing like the tall, orange-and-golden female who belonged to him.
“She’s coming.”
“Mara!” His back arched and instinctively I reached for his hand to offer comfort. His grip nearly crushed my fingers, but I held firm and placed my free hand on his forehead.
“Shhh. You’re okay. Mara is coming.”
“Mara.” He went limp as I held him, his gaze locked on my face but seeing another’s as I stroked the hair from his forehead in what I hoped was a soothing caress.
A shudder raced from his spine, extending to his limbs and suddenly Rav was there, pulling me backward, away from the warrior who twisted and contorted with pain on the table.
“What’s happening to him?”
“He’s dying.” Rav settled me against his chest but didn’t force me to turn away. I couldn’t look away as the gadgets lining his arm oozed like someone had pumped acid into the metal, cooking it off his body from the inside out. His flesh bubbled and churned as well, as if he were boiling on the inside.