Oh, God. “Get them all out of here! Now!” I yelled the order. I wasn’t second-in-command, but with Rovo missing, I gave the orders on this side of the field.
I didn’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t the two small shuttles that landed on the edge of the battlefield. And it wasn’t the dozen or so mercenaries who stepped out of them. Their armor was black. Half men, half women, they all had a fierceness to their faces I recognized. Some had silver hair, like Blade. Some were dark, like Styx. But they all had the distinct features of the two men I’d almost fucked in that hallway. That time with them up close and personal made it easy for me to know where these mercenaries were from. Rogue 5.
Their uniforms were nearly identical to what Styx and Blade wore, right down to the arm bands around their biceps.
Except the bands weren’t silver. They were red. Dark red, like wine. Like dried blood. One of them looked up, saw me watching him. I met his pale gaze and saw nothing there. No heat in his eyes, not like Styx or Blade. No interest or emotion. Only indifference. Even though I was sweating, a chill raced down my spine. His glance alone showed me what I needed to know.
These mercenaries were cold-blooded killers.
Screaming at everyone to get the hell out of there, I ran for Rovo’s location, toward the place Wulf said he’d gone. I had to warn him. Find him.
Chaos erupted on the ground as the Prillon on the transport pad opened fire at the new and surprising enemy. They weren’t Hive and that scared the crap out of me.
My team fired as well, and the quiet ground covered with the dead and dying exploded in bedlam and screaming.
“Rovo!” I yelled as I pulled my own blaster. I was too far away to fire into the fray, but I had no idea what I’d find when I rounded that huge boulder.
I didn’t make it. Three warriors almost as big as Styx appeared around the supersized rock and walked toward me.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
They were too close. I was quick in a lot of ways, but running wasn’t one of them. Right now, I wished I had the speed of an Everian Hunter.
Turning on my heel, I ran with every ounce of strength in me. A blast whizzed past my head, and I ducked, weaving and hoping I could dodge the enemy fire. I heard one of my pursuers go down in a tangle of cursing and screaming.
Looking ahead, I saw Wulf on his knees, ion rifle in hand, taking aim behind me again. He was more beast than Atlan, but that was keeping us both alive. The Prillon were firing into the melee on the other side of the field, where the rest of my team was engaged in a battle they appeared to be losing.
Heavy breathing. The loud strike of boots behind me.
Wulf fired again and another of my attackers went down.
“Down!” he bellowed, and I hit the ground rolling as huge hands tangled for purchase in the back of my green uniform before falling away. I took off running again. Wulf fired, I dropped to the ground, but his shot missed as the mercenary chasing me dove for cover.
Scrambling onto my hands and knees, I made it the rest of the way to the transport pad. There, I found Wulf slumped over, unconscious. One of the Prillon warriors looked at me. “Get on. Now! We’ve got orders to clear the pad so Commander Karter can get his warriors down here.”
Warriors? Karter? What?
Impatient, the Prillon grabbed me and lifted me onto the pad. He stepped off, firing into the battle, doing what he could to protect the rest of my team.
“Do it!” he ordered his companion who stood at the controls on the opposite side of the transport. They weren’t leaving, I realized. They were going to stay here and fight.
I glanced at Wulf and saw his blood pooling, the ReGen wand on the pad a couple feet away where it had fallen. Damn it.
Crawling toward him, I turned the wand back on and placed it lying on his chest before picking up his ion rifle.
The pad buzzed with energy that made my hair
and skin crackle as the power built. I raised the rifle and took aim, taking down one of the mercenaries who’d been firing on my team from a safe distance.
Bastard. Coward.
I had a list of names for men like these.
Behind him, his friends were dragging the wounded and my team away, alive, onto the shuttles.
Why? What the hell?
They were taking weapons, too. Anything and everything they could. But why the warriors? Why my team? Why…