TOV_ChapterOneP2

           It was far larger than he’d first imagined. Even damaged, it still spanned roughly thirty feet in length and twenty-three
feet across. Easily large enough to hold a life form. Was he too late to give aid? Was he the first person here? With a wave of
his hand, he indicated his men should remain where they were as he began to move closer to the craft.
Without preamble, an electronic voice boomed authoritatively. “Halt!” Feminine in tone, the garbled speech resembled his.
    Startled, his right hand instinctively reached for the grip of his sword. Should the need arise, he’d be ready. He eyed the
metallic hull warily. “Who speaks?”
    “Let me be,” the voice returned, its patchwork of syllables disjointed. “I don’t want any trouble. Back away.”
    “I come only to offer assistance. Are you alone? Are you injured?”
    “I don’t need your help!” the voice screeched in reply, the upper register of pitch grating on his nerves.
    Awyn turned to his squad and indicated that two of them should start around the side. “Do not be afraid,” he urged quietly
at their uneasy expressions.
    If the owner of that voice had wanted them dead, his father would have already greeted them in the Great Beyond. Sneakily
watching the two men’s progress, he beseeched the female. “Please, we do not have much time. Let me help you.”
    A side panel, the breadth of his forearm, flipped open. The cover slid backwards to be flawlessly engulfed by the foreign ship’
s skin. A muffled buzz of coursing energy increased to an angry hum of welling power, with the cannon’s muzzle aimed straight
at his scouts. The woman’s laugh filtered out from the wreckage. “You dare insult my intelligence by dividing your forces?”
    Awyn did not like her tone. Nor the challenge the veiled threat held, since she had wasted no time in making ready for battle.
    His instincts screamed for action. With corded leg muscles bunched in readiness, he throbbed with energy, aching to be
loosed. Years of training held him in check. This time things would turn out differently.
    The second two neon-yellow bursts exited the weapon, Awyn rushed forward.
    His men! He should never have put them in harm’s way to feed his greed. Guilt weighted the blood pounding through his
heart, as he viewed the outcome.
    The charges fizzled in the tepid air, landing mere inches from his soldiers’ boots. Wisps of smoke floated away, revealing two
charred rings.
    Knowing his men were safe for the time being, Awyn sprinted toward the ship. A foot away from the hull, another blast
barely missed the tip of his right boot.
    His ploy to get closer had not worked. He wished he knew more about spacecraft. If only he’d listened to his brother…
    Maybe if he were to state who he was. “I am Awyn Shandar, son of Qu…” His voice trailed off. Too much information had
proven a liability during his failed attempts at diplomacy in the past. “You must let us help you. I can see from here you are
injured.”
    Her figure, outlined by a close-fitting suit of deep blue, was suspiciously still. A dusty transparent shield was the only thing
separating him from her. Given the circumstances, it was as formidable as a twenty-foot-high solid stone wall. He’d never get
through unless he found her weakness.
    He knew the time used in reaching the remote landing site would’ve complicated any serious injuries inflicted from the
impact. It had to be shock that gave her words the unusual slur. As for her erratic behavior…fear was his only explanation.
    Her reluctance to accept help was only making the situation worse for her. Danger lurked at their heels and she was an
innocent lamb, plump and beckoning to be slaughtered.
Without warning Awyn was encased in white light. Thick bands slid up his arms and over his chest. Tension hung heavily in the
air. Although he couldn’t move his head, he heard the unforgettable ching of weapons being drawn. “Please?” He had to defuse
the situation and get her to agree. They could not afford to spend extra time outside the city.
    She grunted in reluctant acceptance and set him free. “You seem harmless enough—”
    Awyn didn’t let her finish. “We are, but the people closing in behind us are not.”
    “Put down your weapons.”
    One of his men grumbled. They were no fools. Neither was he. A bargain might appease both parties. “I will not, though you
have my word we shall not use them.”
    “No deal.” Quietly purposeful, the voice added, “Now.”
    “Do as she says.” The warriors’ scowling faces voiced their rebuke of his order, but silently they complied. Sharpened
swords, axes and knives appeared, scattered at their feet. At his prompt they could rearm in a millisecond. As their leader, he
took nothing for granted. Practice was the key to survival.
    Awyn unsheathed his sword from its scabbard and knelt slowly to place it on the ground between them. Its deadly blade lay
prone on the rocky surface. Light glinted off the oval stone set within the hilt, morphing its color to whitish blue.
    “Only you may enter.”
    “We must secure the ship. This slope could break apart if the weight proves too great.”
    Silence met his statement. Without giving her time to reconsider, he motioned for his men to rearm with a tiny flick of his
wrist. Divided into two teams, they encircled the ship with thick, corded ropes taken from the rear holds of two dimaci. Due to
the resourcefulness of Aquilar’s scientists the large, metallic vehicles originally designed for short distance hauling could now
reach hair-raising speeds.
    Awyn held his breath when the men stepped close enough to stroke the ship’s hull with their fingertips. Their faces reflected
on the surface, twisting into bizarre visages.
    No action came from the ship.
    Reassured that the woman inside would cooperate, he strode to the cockpit’s outer seal. The hatch door slid open with a
whispered whir, triggering the release of an entrance ramp. Awyn raced up the incline toward the pilot.
    She had a high forehead, pert nose and full lips. It was a strong face, beautiful in its composition. The body-hugging suit
revealed lush curves of generous breasts and a trim shape that was well taken care of. All visually similar to Aquilarian
women.
    Her eyes were shut, the lids motionless. She hadn’t stirred at his heavy tread. If she was unconscious, how could she talk?
    “She was thrown against the controls upon impact,” the warbling voice broke in from beside him. “Her injuries include a
severe concussion, a stab wound which compromised her lung’s integrity and acute exhaustion. She has been unconscious for
forty-eight minutes.”
    “Why did you not try to wake her?” Awyn tenderly probed the dark-purple bruise at her hairline, noting the blood that had
soaked her uniform. Rings of sweat circled her neck and armpits, evidence of how hard she’d battled. A golden orb patch
rested atop her heart as a symbol for her planetary affiliation.
    The rich shade of the suit accented the paleness of her skin. It was far too white for any humanoid he’d seen. Her burnt-
honey locks stood out starkly against the milky tone of her complexion. Judging by his own race, he guessed she was no more
than twenty-six.
    His hand was twice the size of hers. Mesmerized by its daintiness, he lifted it carefully from its resting place. The pad of his
forefinger slid over the tender skin of her wrist.
     A wave of emotion coursed through him at the simple contact. If it weren’t for her injuries, he’d have jumped back in
shock. Shaken, he realized this was one scenario he hadn’t planned for.
    Thump…thump. Her pulse beat steady but far too slow.
    “She’s used to ignoring me. If you weren’t so busy looking at her, you might have noticed I don’t have any arms.”
    “Where are you?” He gently lowered the woman’s hand.
    “Here. Right beside you.”
    “I see no one.”
    “See these flickering lights?” The panel he was glaring at began to illuminate row after row in an obvious pattern. “That’s
me.”
    “You have no body?”
    “Bingo!” At his confused expression she clarified, “Correct.”
    “Why did you not let us in sooner?”
    “I had no idea you were so charming,“ the computer flirted. “But really, I couldn’t let you inside until I knew your intentions
were true. Security, you know.” A shout rang out from the exterior of the ship. “Vahezhno approaching!”
    He had tried to warn…‘it’, but the computer had proven to be nothing more than a hindrance. The likelihood of it interfering
with what had to be done was pretty much guaranteed. Which button among the multitude would quiet the voice? A large,
flashing neon-green one caught his eye. It was worth a try. What ‘it’ would do to him couldn’t be any worse than the Vahezhno
if he was captured. Awyn pretended to check the unconscious woman once more and then quickly spun around to depress the
target.
    “How could you…?” The voice faded into nothingness from power loss.
    Awyn lifted the pilot in his arms, stopping instantly when she yelped. Had he caused her further pain? Had she awakened?
Her muscles tensed under his touch and then relaxed, slack as if she were dead.
    A slight rise and fall of her chest spurred him to breathe again as he uttered a silent oath. The motion was so faint he
wondered how long she could hold on before it ceased altogether.
    “We have another problem,” Howell, his second in command, warned as he took a single step inside the cockpit.
    “What?” Awyn continued to watch each motion of the female in his grasp.
    “The cliff is giving way.”
    He lifted his head and pinned the man with an authoritative look. “Move quickly. We must save this ship.” If not for himself,
then at least for her.
    Why was she here? Where was she from? What had brought her to him? He had to keep her alive to answer all those
questions burning in his mind. A thin vein of jealousy spawned to life at the idea of all she’d seen, things he longed to
experience.
    “Yes, Sire.”
    A deafening crack sounded ominously below. The angle of the floor fell sharply, indicating his fears were about to become
reality. With a curse he regained his balance and darted through the entryway.
    Awyn took in the situation at a single glance. It was worse than he’d originally feared. Only half the ropes had been affixed
and the craft’s rear was now resting on a thin shelf of rock, which had begun to continuously flake away due to the pressure.
    “Can we use the lines to pull it to safer ground”—he gestured with a nod—“and affix the aure for transport?”
    “As long as the dimaci have the power to budge it.”
    A slim chance was all he needed. “Do it.”
    Within minutes his men had the ropes secured to the dimaci’s rear decks and began to lend their own strength to the effort.
Their stature was nothing unusual in Awyn’s eyes, but he’d never been more proud that each of his guardsmen were the most
stalwart males in all of Aquilar. Broad plates of sable armor made their massive chests look even more colossal. The sinewy
strength of their bare arms held mythic power. They were ready to do battle and face their direst enemy to find victory. Even
for his egocentric cause of saving an off-worlder.
    The sun had dropped low in the sky, the orb half-veiled by the horizon. Night would soon be upon them. They had to get
back to the safety of Aquilar before darkness fell or risk losing everyone in the group.
    Awyn looked down at the immobile figure secure in his arms. This woman was his responsibility. She was too valuable to
lose in a reckless altercation. Gingerly, he transferred her to a cushion in the back of a smaller dimaci. He paused for one brief
second to caress her cheek. His heart leapt in reaction from the strange force coursing through him. Now that he had found
her, she would not be taken away.
    “We must go, Sire. They are almost upon us.”
    “Ready.” He listened to the dimaci hum to life, their large-treaded wheels ready to crawl forward at his order. He retrieved
his sword and slid it home with a sense of wholeness. Taking position beside his men, Awyn prepared to give the signal that
would initiate the mammoth effort of transporting the ship that dwarfed them all. “We cannot hide from them with this cargo,
but we must—”
    Rumbling sounded far beneath them. The ship was sliding!
    “Pull!” His men planted their feet and set their shoulders against the ropes. Awyn watched the craft shift little by little away
from the cliff’s edge.
    It was working!
    Mere minutes later the ship halted. Their enormous cargo refused to budge any further.
    “Let’s get the aure underneath.” He grabbed two of the three foot-long tools and raced back to the ship. The hull was a
panoramic mixture of flaming orange-reds as the last tendrils of sunlight reached out to touch the strange foreign surface.
    Awyn slid the aure under the flattened ship at six-foot intervals and then depressed the activation button, doubtful of his
brother’s streamlined design. The resounding clunk of the magnets clamping to the outer shell was a welcome sound. He
looked up to see his men follow his example.
    “Clear!” Awyn retreated to the waiting vehicles, echoes sounding from the perimeter of the ship as his men followed suit.
    After everyone was accounted for, Howell used the main controller to activate the separate devices as a single unit. Awyn
watched as the small pieces of metal levitated the ship without any effort. Just like the woman’s weight. Jets of air sprang out
from the bottom of the L-shaped brackets. If it weren’t for its beaten appearance, anyone would’ve assumed the ship was on
autopilot.
    A grin creased his face as he pictured his brother bent over a table, tinkering in his lab. He’d have to make sure Oron knew
how well one of his inventions worked.
    Awyn had never seen anything so miraculous. Then again, that wasn’t his job. His mother’s assignment guided him down
another path. One that led him to an alternate destiny. To the visitor.
    “We have guests,” one of his men muttered.
    Those words brought his attention back to the fore with a sense of urgency. “Load up.” His men wasted no time linking the
dimaci to the floating craft. If everything went according to design specifications, the transmitters mounted on the back of the
vehicles would emit a signal for the aure to pursue.
     “Move out!” Awyn shouted, grim faced.
    An enemy corps raced en route for their position. He’d estimate them to be three hundred feet away. It was a ragged
bunch, nothing like the usual pilfering parties that swarmed in a horde. It meant this group would most likely have more
courage than sense, armed with the spoils of past raids. Weapons were the only remnants of battle the Vahezhno ever
seemed to keep. It was the one barbaric factor that made life so much worse for their nomadic kind. They were fighting a war
of power they couldn’t hope to win. Although combat wasn’t their strongest suit, the fresh emotional wound of past hurt still
festered in his heart. The memory of their most successful organized attack against his house ran deep. He couldn’t forgive
them. Or forget the vendetta he promised over his father’s lifeless body. Time didn’t ease all pain.
    Why did the Vahezhno have to destroy everything they didn’t understand? If given the chance, these marauders would
have torn their precious cargo to shreds.
    “We have no time for battle if we are to save her. Avoid the outsiders at all costs.” Awyn climbed into the dimaci bearing
the alien woman. A split second later, he guided their party along the solitary, meandering path bound for the protection of
Aquilar. He glanced over his shoulder to see the ship cruising smoothly behind the four largest vehicles. The supply dimaci
took up scout positions on his flanks as they neared the Vahezhno who sought to bar their way.
    If they could maintain their present momentum, they shouldn’t have a problem; the opposition traveled on foot. Doubts
lingered though. He’d learned never to take anything for granted.
    As their caravan topped the next rise, ten figures stood out distinctly. The youths, whose eldest couldn’t be more than
twenty, were entranced by what they saw. As usual, their tattered leather pants and tunics were layered under ill-fitting,
mismatched armor.
    One blond man started to turn away. A stouter cohort restrained him, his face flushed scarlet. Obviously, he was the leader
of the pack.
    They couldn’t do much damage. Only half had weapons still resolutely hanging from their belts as tools for intimidation.
They had probably never even seen blood spilt in combat. Awyn wanted it to stay that way.
    Compared to the Aquilarian guard, these Vahezhno were nothing but a party of upstarts who hoped to prove their valor by
making a name for themselves. Injured strangers were the perfect target. They would play host to their unsuspecting quarry
and then turn on them.   The Vahezhno had plenty of experience in the act of betrayal.
    He had no doubt if the Vahezhno elders didn’t yet know about the craft, they soon would in lavish detail. They had missed
this opportunity to have the visitor, but once they were certain an alien survivor existed, they would come for her.
    She was the perfect pawn in their game for supremacy.
    Where were the elders? What were they plotting for the days of darkness that lay ahead? If they couldn’t be coaxed from
their camps by such an obvious otherworldly invasion, then it must be something grand indeed.
    The group of stragglers fired insults but quickly dispersed when the ship’s size forced them to make way. Awyn watched as
they fruitlessly hurled stones at the alien technology. Chunks of dirt broke apart on impact, spraying the offenders.   The aure
remained in synch, no quiver evident at the interference, as the links held.
    Awyn stole a look toward his own precious payload; the woman’s condition hadn’t improved. If anything she was paler, her
face a smooth, serene mask. Her body was frozen in place. Straight-legged beneath a warm, woven mantle, her arms resting
at her sides. Her position morbidly mimicked their traditional stance of burial.
    A sense of urgency overwhelmed him. He deviated from course, urging his dimaci to maximum speed with a vicious shove
on the throttle. The large-treaded wheels spun, fighting the sudden jolt of power. He flew at breakneck speed through the
riotous unkempt foliage, over the rocky path his father had long ago forged.
    He didn’t want to leave the battle-hardened warriors behind to fend for themselves, but he had to get help. The woman’s
time was running out.
    His hair whipped against his cheeks, stinging like dozens of well-aimed arrows as they found their mark. Pain was a part of
life. It let you know you were alive.
    And it could overwhelm you if you weren’t prepared.
    He couldn’t shake the newfound feeling deep down within that his future and that of his planet hinged on this visitor’s
survival.