Mordjan Page 4

  I guess not.

  Chapter Seven

  Mordjan

  Mordjan strode back to the lab, wishing he could punch something. Why was he always doing the wrong thing around her? He shouldn’t have left her like that, after she’d opened up to him. But he didn’t know what to say.

  Why had she told him that, anyway? Did she expect comfort?

  Because he didn’t know how to do that anymore.

  She might have suffered the same type of defeat he had, but the severity was incomparable. Most of her people were still alive because they’d found the cure.

  His were dead, and there was no cure for that.

  But even worse, he’d felt something when they touched. They weren’t supposed to feel it, but both Tordan and Simban had mentioned a brief, almost imperceptible tingle when they’d touched their elves. That electric spark told him she might be more than just an elf to him. Or he might be more than just a cyborg to her.

  Mates. After all this time, he’d thought not to find one. Especially now. He ran a hand through his hair. But how could it be? They were polar opposites—he was responsible for taking lives, but she was responsible for saving them.

  Unconsciously, he’d come to the lab where he’d built the device to synthesize the cure for the Red Death. That device had been moved to the elven palace at Renwyn. He sat on the stool where he’d worked for so many hours, putting his head in his hands. Before the Ardaks, he’d been a warrior. Then they’d overrun his army and turned him into an engineer. He honestly didn’t know who he was anymore, how to integrate the parts of himself into one cohesive whole.

  He slammed his hand down on the steel bench in front of him. That cure had saved them from the Red Death, but it wasn’t enough. They were going to return, with their weapons, ships, and strange technology. He took the device from his pocket. How the Ardaks had made such a strange device, which was the size of his thumb and seemingly contained endless information, was beyond him. The device was made of the same strange metal as the ship and also appeared to suck the light into it.

  He stood there for several moments, simply staring at it. Then he connected himself to the computer and plugged it in.

  WELCOME TO RESIST. ENTER YOUR NAME.

  He did, and the next prompt read: WELCOME, MORDJAN.

  There was a momentary flash of blackness and then a menu filled his vision.

  HOME. JAILBREAK. FIREWALL. COMMUNICATIONS. FILES.

  He clicked on files. There were folders on many topics, some that he had never heard of before. He paused for a moment.

  “Simban.”

  “Yes?”

  “What files are you and the others looking at? I want to look at different ones.”

  “I thought you two were sparring.”

  “We’re finished.”

  There was a pause. “I’m looking at space and ship tech. I thought you’d be looking at military and weapons tech.”

  “All right, thank you.” Yes, he should be looking at that. It was the obvious choice for the leader of the army. But other names drew his attention, too. Mechanical and structural engineering. Nuclear science. Different subfiles of technology.

  He had a duty to Aurora and his people to learn as much about their military strategy as he could, so he focused his attention on the military files. Before long, he was lost in the nuances of the Ardaks’ large-scale battle strategy, many of which relied on stealthy oblique and flanking maneuvers. He’d never fought the scale of battles they had, so they were hard to picture in his head. Thankfully, below the explanation of the strategies, there were handwritten notes that helped put them into perspective.

  “Mordjan.”

  “Yes?” he asked absently, trying to read one of the graphics files. Ardak paws obviously weren’t meant for holding writing instruments—all of their handwritten scrawl was large and difficult to read.

  “We’re almost at the coordinates.”

  Mordjan started. He hadn’t realized he’d been examining the files that long. “I’ll be up in a moment.”

  “Is Fayelle still with you?”

  “Let me check.” He disconnected and opened his eyes to find her at the computer terminal beside him, studying the files and making notes. She must have come in once he was already connected. “Yes, she is. I’ll bring her with me.”

  He stood, and she looked up. “Simban wants to see us up on the bridge. We’re almost at the coordinates.”

  She nodded and rose, picking up her notes.

  He crossed the room toward the door, but paused before opening it. “What you said earlier about the Red Death—I’m sorry that happened to you.”

  Her gaze slid to his, and there was pain and grief in her expression. “Yes, well, what happened to your people was much, much worse. I simply wanted you to know that I have shared some of your pain. I know what it’s like to have the Ardaks take something from you. Something you can’t get back. They took my faith in magic. That’s why I took this mission.”

  She strode down the corridor beside him, keeping pace.

  Both of them had lost something valuable because of the Ardaks. Whether it was confidence or faith or hope he didn’t know, he only knew it was gone.

  Some part of him, the one that had never considered such things before, recognized that maybe hers was a greater loss. Even greater than the invasion.

  And while he recognized the problem, he had no idea how the hell they were going to get it back.

  Chapter Eight

  Fayelle

  She followed Mordjan onto the command deck, where the others were already looking out the front window. The entire control center glowed a pulsing turquoise blue, and her jaw dropped in awe when she saw what they were looking at. They joined the others and stood there in a half circle, gaping at the space before them.

  “I never expected this,” Simban commented dryly.

  “I don’t see why not,” Mordjan retorted. “It’s exactly what we should have expected.”

  In front of them lay a glowing ring of blue space fire. The inner ring was completely black, with light swirling around the outside in a gigantic circle.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “It’s a wormhole,” Simban answered.

  “A worm what?” Borian asked.

  “A wormhole.” Mordjan answered. “A kind of tunnel in space that leads somewhere else.”

  “Where does it lead?” she asked.

  “The only way to know is to go through it,” Mordjan replied.

  “Go through it?” Borian sounded faint. “I thought it would be a planet. Or maybe a moon.”

  “Well, it isn’t,” Simban replied, glancing at Mordjan. “Shall we?”

  “Yes,” Mordjan agreed as he moved to the closest console. “I’m instructing the ship to go through now.”

  Simban turned to the others. “When we go through the wormhole, everything will seem to slow for a minute. Don’t be frightened—it’s just a distortion in space-time.”

  “It’s a what?” Borian asked.

  “A distortionnn innn spaccce tiiiiiimmme,” Mordjan replied.

  Fayelle felt her body begin to slow, and for a moment, she was afraid. Mordjan must have been able to read her expression, because his lips thinned and then he reached for her hand.

  She reached for his at the same time, and it was as if she were reaching through water, the movement much slower than normal.

  Their hands clasped, and in that moment, she saw Mordjan not as a bad-tempered cyborg, but as a man. His gaze held concern, and she knew that worry extended to more than just her in that moment. It was for the crew on the ship and all the people on Aurora, the weight of it all so much heavier than the pressure of the wormhole.

  The tingle of magic ran through her again.

  Oh gods.

  It hadn’t been a fluke. Her magic had chosen him.

  Then they were through, and everything around them returned to normal.

  Everything but Fayelle herself. She didn
’t think she’d ever be normal again. She dropped his hand, burned by the knowledge.

  “Are you all right?” he asked her, his eyes searching. “It’s a little disconcerting the first time you go through one.”

  She swallowed and nodded.

  “Where are we now?” he asked Simban.

  Simban pulled up star charts on the monitor. “I don’t know yet, but there is a planet in front of us. Shall we assume that’s where we are supposed to go?”

  Mordjan eyed the brown, rugged planet. “Let’s check it out. I’ll instruct the ship to go into orbit.”

  Simban used the computer’s scanning equipment to survey it. “I’m scanning the planet, but I don’t see anything. The terrain is mostly desert, save for the ice at the poles. There are two significant mountain ranges. I don’t see any liquid water at all. It would help if we knew what we were looking for.”

  “Right.” Mordjan thought for a moment. “If you were going to hide a rebel base on a desert planet, where would you hide it?”

  “Somewhere they wouldn’t find us,” Borian said.

  “Thank you for that,” Mordjan said dryly.

  “At the bottom,” Fayelle said quietly, looking at the brown orb beneath them.

  “Huh?”

  “You know, the dark part on the underside of the planet.”

  “Shit. That’s a great idea,” Simban replied, turning to Mordjan. “Shall we?”

  Mordjan glanced at Fayelle. “I suppose we shall. We’ll have to go into close orbit so it doesn’t feel like we’re upside down, though.”

  “Close orbit is fine,” Simban replied.

  “I wish I knew what the hell you two were talking about,” Borian commented.

  “When you’re approaching a planet, it looks like there is a top and a bottom. However, when you’re very close to the planet, sucked into its atmosphere, all parts of the planet will appear upright to you.” Simban answered. “So we want to get close enough that we can land on the ‘bottom’ of the planet.”

  Mordjan took the ship closer to the planet as he explained, slowing considerably as they swept into orbit. The planet did indeed look deserted, but he took the ship high over the top pole and then followed the planet around until they were beneath it.

  “That’s it!” Fayelle shouted excitedly.

  Sure enough, there was an opening, and a ground-penetrating scan showed something beneath the surface. What that something was, she had no idea.

  “All right,” he told Simban, “let’s circle around and land beside it.”

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea? We’re in an Ardak ship,” Fayelle said.

  “We don’t have much of a choice—this is the only ship we have. Plus, we don’t actually know what’s out there, so it could be abandoned—”

  An explosion rocked the ship.

  “What the hell?” Simban shouted.

  “Everyone hang on. We’re under fire,” Mordjan ordered. “Activating weapons.”

  “Don’t shoot at them!” Fayelle shouted without thinking.

  Mordjan shot her a glare. If looks could kill, she’d be dead.

  “She’s right. We can’t fire on the resistance,” Simban seconded.

  Mordjan pounded a fist on the console. “Shall we flee?”

  A voice came on over the ship’s speakers. “Who are you?”

  “My name is Mordjan. We’re here to find and request the aid of the resistance—the ARF.”

  “You’re in protected airspace. Leave immediately.”

  “We aren’t going anywhere,” Simban broke in.

  The ship shuddered again.

  “Shields at 30 percent. The next will kill us.” Mordjan’s voice was tight.

  Fayelle was finally losing her patience. “Traako,” she shouted at the disembodied voice. “You’re supposed to be the resistance! Are you’re really going to shoot allies out of the sky?”

  There was a brief silence.

  “You have elves on board?”

  “Yes, you damn idiots,” Mordjan growled. “Why didn’t you try asking first?”

  “Hey, we aren’t the ones who showed up in an Ardak spaceship.” A brief pause. “You’re cleared to land. Follow the lights for landing and then bring everyone on board out to meet us.”

  A row of lights illuminated on the surface beneath them.

  Mordjan huffed out his annoyance and maneuvered the ship to follow the lights.

  “He does have a point.” Simban’s tone was dry.

  “I’ll have one, too, when I put my fist through his face,” Mordjan shot back.

  Fayelle rolled her eyes and gestured for Irielle to follow her to the docking bay.

  “We’d better grab jackets for everyone, it’s freezing out there,” Fayelle commented, as the door to the bay opened.

  “Yes, I agree.” Irielle said, diverting from the docking bay to a room next door and going to a cabinet.

  “How did you know where they are?”

  Irielle blushed slightly. “Simban and I spent some time on board last night before you two arrived.”

  Fayelle arched a brow but didn’t say anything. If that was their idea of a good time, so be it.

  She helped Irielle search through the snow jackets for their sizes.

  By the time Simban, Mordjan, Borian, and Nordan joined them in the docking bay, they were both zipped up in jackets that were much too large, with the sleeves rolled up, and carrying jackets for the others .

  Mordjan grabbed a few ray guns and handed them out while the others donned the jackets. Then his gaze met hers as he went to stand by the door. “Is everyone ready?”

  “Yes,” Simban replied, and the others nodded.

  When the bay door began to descend and the frigid air came in, she sucked in a breath at its coldness.

  “Keep your mouths closed,” Mordjan said quickly. “If you breathe in too quickly, your teeth could freeze and crack.”

  She closed her mouth.

  Starry hell.

  Maybe going off-planet wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

  “All right, let’s go,” Mordjan ordered, stepping out.

  She stepped out behind Mordjan, following him down the ramp onto a blanket of white snow and ice.

  Chapter Nine

  Mordjan

  Mordjan took in the frozen tundra, searching for signs of the base. Either the ARF had done a good job hiding it or the snow was really working in their favor.

  Once all six of them had exited, he gave the command to shut the bay door and the ramp rose upward again.

  For a moment, all was silent. Then the strangest group of warriors he had ever seen, twelve in all, seemed to manifest from the whiteness. It consisted of elves, Ardaks, humans, and a couple of other beings he’d never seen before. And each being had a weapon trained on them.

  “Who are you?” the elf in the middle demanded. He stood slightly in front of the others, glowing eyes of pure gold trained on them. He hadn’t bothered with a weapon, his hands slightly raised in a defensive magic stance. His long black hair was braided in an intricate way Mordjan had never seen before, and his eyes glowed gold, like the elves from Garthurian.

  Mordjan kept his voice calm and unthreatening. “My name is Mordjan, and this is Fayelle. Behind me are Borian and Nordan, then Simban and Irielle. We’re from Aurora and we’ve come to find the ARF.”

  The leader’s voice was cold. “Is there anyone else on that ship?”

  “No.”

  “Why are you in an Ardak ship?”

  “We stole it from the Ardak forces that invaded us.”

  “How did you find us?”

  Mordjan pulled the device from the pocket in his armor. When he moved, the weapons shifted until they were solely trained on him. There was a collective inhalation when he showed them the black device that seemed to eat the light.

  The leader’s golden eyes narrowed. “Where did you get that?”

  “One of us got it from Ouirer, an Ardak who served under General Slash
. The Ardaks took over our planet, but he was part of your force.”

  “Those devices are very rare.”

  “We’d be happy to share.”

  He looked at the Ardak on his right. “We can’t take the chance that it isn’t real,” he said in a low voice.

  The Ardak nodded.

  “All right,” he said finally. At his nod, the others slowly lowered their weapons, but their gazes remained untrusting. “I’m High Leader Ruith. These two are Second Leader Saara and Third Leader IceBlood.” He gestured to a female elf with short red hair on his left and then the Ardak on his right. “All right, let’s get inside, away from this fucking snow.” He gave the Ardak a feral grin. “We can always throw them back out.”

  The Ardak, IceBlood, bared his fangs and made a coughing noise, which Mordjan interpreted as a laugh.

  The elf and the Ardak led them inside, the others falling in around and behind them.

  “Wait! They’re cyborgs!” Third Leader IceBlood growled loudly.

  “What?” High Leader Ruith turned and all weapons were once again trained on them. His eyes went to Fayelle. “What the hell are you doing with cyborgs?”

  “We’re working with them to defeat the Ardaks,” she said, exasperated.

  “This changes things. We’ll have to put you in holding until we know you can be trusted.”

  “No way.” Mordjan was finally losing his patience. “We aren’t your prisoners, and the Ardaks will be arriving on our planet in thirty-six hours so we don’t have time for this. We’ll just go back the way we came.”

  IceBlood leveled his weapon at Fayelle. “We can’t let you leave now that you know where we are.”

  Mordjan assessed the odds of them getting away without sustaining damage. They cyborgs would probably be fine, but Fayelle and Irielle probably wouldn’t be so lucky.

  “If we go with you, will you let us go?”

  High Leader Ruith scowled and looked away. “Yes,” he said finally. “First we’ll try to verify who you are. But if we can’t, we’ll let you go when we leave this place.”