Desperate Times (Lost Planet Warriors Book 1) by K. McLaughlin Read Free Book Online Page B

someone who'd been clutching at the last strands of hope, only to see them slip out of reach.
    "You could run," I suggested softly. I had the feeling that if they did, humanity was lost.
    Behind me another of the Cymtarrans scoffed. "We may have fallen low, but not that low, Terran."
    Bran and I turned to face him.
    "We are warriors," the Cymtarran said. "If nothing else, we can live, fight, and die with our honor intact."
    "You speak the truth, Carrick," Bran said. He whirled back toward the screen, his eyes narrowing. "We may have lost Cymtarra, but we are still Cymtarran. I want a tactical readout displayed on all enemy vessels. Lock in targeting solutions on the nearest. Helm, evasive patterns. Keep us at the edge of their weapon range."
    The bridge was exploded with practiced activity now. Gone in an instant was the torpor which had filled them all. They might be wounded, but I was watching the result of thousands of hours of training and drill.
    What Bran said sank in, then. They might have lost Cymtarra? That sounded like more than one damaged spaceship in a firefight. What the hell had happened out there?
    The Cymtarran Empire was huge, powerful enough that even this far away, Earth had still heard tales of them. If I took what Bran was saying literally, these Skree had just taken out the biggest kid on the block. If I was understanding him right, where did that leave Earth?
    Up shit creek without a paddle, was my guess. Oh, we were well off the beaten path. It might take a while for empires to come rolling through this system. But any sort of power vacuum out there in the galaxy was going to have massive repercussions. And that of course assumed that these Skree didn’t just blow the Earth to bits as they passed through, out of spite. I wasn’t ready to gamble on that.
    “Bran, I need to get back to my ship,” I said.
    “Yes,” he said. Why was his expression so pained? “We should get you to safety. I can spare a shuttle and pilot, but I doubt they will be able to get back here. We’ll be too heavily engaged by then.”
    “I’ll take care of your pilot,” I said.
    “Very well. Carrick, escort our guest to the shuttle bay and get her a pilot. Then get yourself back up here,” Bran said. “I’m going to need you shortly.”
    “Aye, sir,” Carrick replied. “This way, Terran.”
    I turned to follow Carrick, then whirled back to Bran and touched his hand. He pulled his focus away from the tactical display now filling the main screen and looked into my eyes as I looked up into his.
    My heart froze, then thawed in an instant inside the warm amber. Windows into a soul indeed. I could see him there: the pain he felt, the loss. Also the determination and sense of honor.
    “I’ll see you soon,” I said.
    “I hope so,” he replied, but there wasn’t really much hope in his voice.
    Then I turned away and followed Carrick down to the shuttles. He grabbed a youngish looking Cymtarran and barked out some orders. The young man seemed about to object - probably didn’t want to be kept out of the fighting, but I couldn’t tell because neither of them was speaking Universal. Carrick growled something back and the younger Cymtarran backed down instantly. Then he turned to me, straightened his back and picked up his pride as best he could, ushering me toward the shuttle.
    I got inside and buckled myself in place. This might be a rockier ride than my trip to get here. The pilot was seated next to me, fingers tapping touchscreens on his console, entering commands. The bay doors opened and the shuttle lifted off, drifting toward space. Once we were clear of the ship, the pilot engaged the shuttle’s main drive and we jetted off toward my ship at top speed.
    I watched the dashboard, able to make out some of the instruments. We would overtake the Ariel in a few minutes. It wouldn’t be long, but my pilot was already tapping his foot anxiously on the floor.
    “What’s your name?” I asked.
    “Flight Officer