Legend Beyond The Stars by S.E. Gilchrist

mistake twice.
    The sight of the escape shuttles dodging the Elite Force ship’s weapons had caused a bewildering bombardment of anxiety and relief. Alien emotions . He had no time for them and he twitched his shoulders as if to shrug off his unwelcome thoughts.
    Even now the way he had raced to his shuttle with little thought to his men’s safety confounded him. He had ignored the opportunity to fully engage with the enemy in favour of ensuring his payload escaped unharmed. His men had followed his lead without question. Although nothing had been spoken, he had sensed his men had shared his urgency inrecapturing the women. Their tactics had worked, with the Elite Forces abandoning their attack on the shuttles to concentrate on evading and returning his men’s fire.
    But at the time, he had acted instinctively, driven by the Darkon male’s primitive urge to capture, hold and protect—an urge which had driven out all other considerations. Within the confines of his protective shielding he scowled while they hastened through the streets.
    This female would not escape him with such ease again!
    She tripped.
    Tarak bent to assist her. Quick as a sneaky coda worm, she hooked her boot around his leg, jerked with considerable force. Startled, he stumbled, his hold loosening. In an instant she had wriggled free, broke into a run.
    A bellow of thwarted fury roared from his throat as he took off in pursuit. He ground his teeth as he heard one of his men stifle a quick guffaw as they pounded along behind him.
    By the hem of Cercis’ cloak this female needed to be taught who was her master .
    Through the thick fog he caught a quick glimpse of his quarry as she darted around a building. Tarak lengthened his stride. He was gaining on her. The infrared night-vision in his helmet pin-pointed her heat signature. A few more strides, she would be within his reach.
    Suddenly she turned and raced towards him.
    A wild elation filled him as he stopped in his tracks, folded his arms and waited.
    But the reason for her quick turnabout became clear. His smugness vanished. A snarl curled his lips and with calculated coolness he assessed the danger tramping towards them.
    ”To arms,” he ordered and drew his plitza from its holster. The female reached his side, her eyes wide, her breath coming in quick pants. She shot a cocky grin in his direction as she dodged his outstretched hand and darted behind him. An answering smile stretched his lips as he moved into his battle stance.
    The mist parted. Through it an Elite Force squad marched towards Tarak and his men.
    “Give me a weapon. I can fight,” the female demanded and laid her bound hands on his weapon arm. “And get these damned things off me!”
    With a careful touch, Tarak brushed her away, sparing her a brief glance. Her hood had fallen back and she was glaring at him again. The dim light from a nearby lantern washed over her face, causing her hair to glow like red tongues of fire. She stared up at him with eyes which gleamed bright with the light of battle. A female warrior and so small, he marvelled. He swept her behind his back once more.
    “Protect her.” There was no need for him to check to see if his men obeyed him. From behind he could hear her indignant splutters as she was propelled further into the centre of his detachment.
    He stepped out to face his enemies.
    A captain of the Elite Force held up a hand in parlay. “Greetings, warlord. Give us the female and we will let you leave in peace. This time.”
    Interesting .
    Tarak assessed the man facing him. His sharp hearing had caught the quiver of apprehension in the captain’s voice. He saw how the facing squad gripped their weapons in amanner which screamed in equal parts ‘raw recruits’ and ‘fear’ . He swallowed his sigh. This was going to be too easy. “You have one choice, Captain. Lower your weapons and walk away.”
    “I have my orders, warlord.” The captain dropped his hand. His men surged