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Her cyborg set her down. “You’ll stay behind me at all times.”
She didn’t argue with that decision. He was wearing body armor.
And he was the more-skilled shooter.
Kesser followed him along the tunnels.
Water trickled along the rock walls. The air was warm and a bit musky.
Her tread was obscenely loud to her ears. She tried to walk as quietly as she could.
“Fraggin’ hole.” Strike cursed under his breath.
“Stop right there.” A deep voice issued that command in the universal language.
Her cyborg obeyed the order. He braced his booted feet apart. And he didn’t lower his guns.
Kesser was unable to see anything other than his big form.
She ducked under one of his arms.
A Powluk had one of his arms wrapped around an extremely limp Talley. And he held a gun in the other hand to her friend’s head.
“Hi, Kess.” Talley grinned at her. Her gaze was unfocused.
“Hi, Talley.” Kesser summoned a smile as terror skittered through her. “How are you doing?”
“I’m doing gooood.” Talley’s head lolled backward. Her eyes closed.
Fates. Kesser shook her head. They had drugged her friend.
And they had likely drugged Tsadok. The male was slumped against a wall behind them.
But other than being blitzed out of their minds, they looked to be healthy. They were clean. And the garments they were wearing were tidy. Talley’s long blonde hair was braided.
“What do you want me to do, my female?” Strike asked her.
“Press that trigger, and I’ll blow the Syndicul’s head off.” The Powluk glared at him. “I don’t want to do it. The Syndicul male said I was not to hurt her. But we have a battle to finish.”
The Syndicul male had said he was not hurt Talley. One of her kind had helped to organize the abduction.
Kesser pushed that revelation aside and focused on the male’s last statement. “You have a battle to finish.” She gazed at him. “You’re restarting a war because the peace agreement was signed before the battle at Tsicariuk Plains was decided.” She couldn’t wrap her brain around that reasoning. “You would’ve lost that battle. You and every other Powluk warrior would have died.”
“We would have died with dignity.” His eyes flashed. “With our weapons in our hands.” The Powluk’s lips twisted. “We’re warriors. What purpose do we have during a time of peace?”
Kesser thought of the little boy she’d met at ground level. “You live. You raise your children. You find happiness.”
“The Syndicul male was a warrior.” The Powluk dismissed her reply. “He understood. You don’t.”
She couldn’t say anything because she didn’t comprehend his way of thinking.
“I understand.” Strike surprised her with that reply. “My kind were manufactured for battle. My brethren love fighting. But it isn’t logical to create a war when there’s another one building.”
“What?” Kesser stared at him.
“There’s another war building?” The Powluk sounded as astonished as she did.
“I was sent to your sector by my kind to investigate a pulsing sound.” Her cyborg’s tone was flat, emotionless. “There was no match to it in any of the databases. The most similar sound was that of a world-ender.”
