“Hez!” I jerk my starfighter up, narrowly avoiding a spray of voidblasts. “New shields. Quick!”
“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you.” Hezekiah’s voice crackles through my comlink.
“My shields are down!” I dive toward the planet, shoving power into my engines. Newhaven’s emerald surface swallows up my cockpit.
“You’re the red dot, right?”
“Yes!”
Bea fought the urge to twitch as the sticky, worm-shaped alien readjusted itself around her ear. She failed.
“You better stop that if you want me to stay attached during the final round,” the alien, a glottaalan, snapped. It settled into place with one last splitch.
The dungeon reeked. Two large, scaly Inlans held my arms in painful grips as they escorted me to my brother’s cell. When I tripped, the shapeshifting aliens urged me to move faster. The cell door stood open, and Harren Den, the Inlan king, entered first. The other Inlans dragged me in next.
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“Relax, Nana. It’ll be fine.” Lili crossed two fingers behind her back, blowing a frizzy curl out of her face. It would be fine. It must be fine. Or she’d never escape the greasy walls of their tiny spaceship-turned-food-truck. There’s got to be more to life than noodle bowls.
“Ya,” her grandmother muttered.
I pulled the handcuffs from my belt and turned to the drug dealer, whom my partner held at gun point. The guy had somewhere in the area of twenty-seven arms and depending on what family he was from might have another—usually with a gun—hiding up one of his noses. I groaned.
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No one entered the Forest unless they were unwilling, arrogant, suicidal, or mad, but desperation would make a mother do many things.
At the edge of the moisture-net field, Ever crouched with her infant son, Spear, wrapped in her cloak.
Behind her lay the base where the Taa and Marzr warred.
“Now, Vanguards, go forth!”
That was the last human voice Vincent had heard. Well, other than his own; he’d been talking to himself for a few days. Or… weeks? He wasn’t sure. the twin suns of Vita Centauri muddled his sense of time.
“If only the others were here.” He shook his head
By Carlos Candela Terry I wake facedown on the cool titanium floor, my vision blurred and my mind shrouded in fog. My jaw cracks with stiffness. Iaclite’s fiery, blue light shines through the portside window and bathes dust particles in a teal hue; they hover like a swarm of lifeless fireflies. I struggle to my
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“It looks like Earth.” Captain Kilian maneuvered the pod through the atmosphere, eyes bouncing from the control panel to the green surface of the planet that had yet to be named.
Alice’s stomach churned with a combination of excitement and dread. “Except the forest is glowing.” For a moment, excitement won out,
“Galastar General, we have limited time to—”
“Yes, yes, I know.”
“General, you’re the only one who—”
“I know!”
“General—”
“Five damn minutes if you please!” General Jones swung into his cabin and slammed the door button. The white carbon fiber hatch hissed closed, shutting out the gray-clad soldiers and their white noise.
A sizzling screech reverberated through the Mud Runner as the laser gouged a line across my hull.
“I never expected to be grateful I didn’t repaint her.” Or so thrilled I hadn’t had the merits for it. I gritted my teeth. “Earl! Why are…”
My co-pilot was not in his seat. I muttered a curse against all androids and rolled the spaceship to one side, avoiding another blast.
“Idiots!” Admiral Paul Seward exploded as soon as the doors closed behind him, cutting off the hearing chamber with its three transparent sides showing a stunning starfield view and its dreary bureaucratic interior.
His navigator, who had waited outside, jumped straight. “Sir?”
“Turning down humans, the most promising Lightwarden candidates, just when we’re in dire need of recruits.”
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