Alien Shores (A Fenris Novel, Book 2) Read Online Free Page A

“I belong to Attack Talon Valiant , the personal vessel of Chengal Ras the 109th. You are his property and engaged in unlawful space travel. That is against the Protocols of Ten Fourteen.”
    “Who are you?” Skar said.
    “That is immaterial,” the man said. “Will you comply with the lawful order or must you force the Revered One’s Talon?”
    “Let me ingest your words,” Skar said. His hand hovered over the cutoff switch.
    Cyrus had been waiting for something psionic to happen. When it did, it almost caught him by surprise. Instead of a second’s advance warning, an avalanche of thought hit like tons of mental boulders. It was loud to his mind, disorienting and confusing. The null began to slip away from him.
    Skar went rigid. Then his head whipped around and his eyes bulged outward.
    “ You ,” Skar said, in a higher-pitched voice than normal. The features of his bullet-shaped head seemed to melt and distort. Then his lips drew back, revealing his teeth. He attempted to lunge upward and attack Cyrus, but the buckles and straps of his piloting chair restrained him.
    As enemy mind bolts flashed and crashed around Cyrus, seeking to latch onto him, his thoughts ran riot.
    They never did it like this before. Is this a new type of mind assault? Are they using the A team now? How do I get out of this? How—turn off the comm unit, you idiot .
    Skar, or the psi-master controlling him, hissed with frustration and tried to lurch the Vomag up again. The soldier’s strong hands flailed at the buckles, attempting to rip and tear them apart. But not even he was that strong. Still, the savagery of it daunted Cyrus.
    It took an effort of will, but Cyrus reached for the cutoff switch.
    “No!” Skar shouted. He grabbed Cyrus’s wrist. “Chengal Ras wishes to examine you.”
    Cyrus leaned his weight for the switch, shoving his arm toward it. Skar gripped cruelly, and the wrist bones ground together. At the same time the mind bolts flashed harder, attempting to hit the hidden null through luck.
    They can’t see me, but are attacking in my vicinity. If they ever get a lock on my mind . . .
    One of the buckles clicked free and a strap fell away. Cyrus realized Skar, or the psi-master controlling his friend, had finally realized what to do.
    “We’ll surrender,” Cyrus said, in a rush. “Do you hear me? I want to know your terms.”
    “No terms,” Skar said. Yet he eased up on the pressure, no longer grinding Cyrus’s wrist bones.
    Taking the opening, as small as it was, Cyrus shot an elbow against Skar’s stony face. The eyes flashed with rage. Sometimes, when one had powerful control of another, the Special or psi-master felt unexpected pain.
    The soldier shoved Cyrus away from him. Cyrus crashed against the panel. The small of his back exploded with agony. He grunted, and then swiveled eel-like and slapped the switch, cutting communications with Valiant .
    It wasn’t over, though. The enemy had established the link. As Skar unlatched the last buckle, stood, and brought his other hand into play, Cyrus took a gamble. He broadened his null again, thereby weakening it. He might become barely visible to the enemy, showing them an outline of his mind. He heard enemy thoughts in his head, indistinct noises. For a second, he could see the chief psi-master in the alien Attack Talon. He was a human with an elongated head. A sliver baan encircled the cranium and was pressed against amplifier discs. Cyrus almost caught the psi-master’s name.
    Disappear, he told himself . Go null—
    Skar’s hands latched onto his throat. The soldier choked him, the ironlike fingers digging into flesh.
    Despite that, Cyrus held onto the null. As a thumb dug deep, the whispering minds in his head snapped off. The mental images vanished and the pressure against his throat immediately quit.
    “Cyrus, I—”
    The Special from Milan opened his eyes. Skar slumped into the pilot’s chair. The soldier turned away and wouldn’t look at