Page 57 of Saved By the Alien Hybrid (Hybrids of Yulaira #1)

“Are you ready?”

A muscle feathered in Eunha’s jaw as the Litha shrank into the distance. When she nodded tightly, Cordelia flicked the switches to prime the ship for liftoff. Eunha did the same on her side of the cockpit, and the ship shuddered as the engines roared to life and shifted into position.

Cordelia spared a final glance over her shoulder.

Nyx was white-knuckling the straps of her harness next to Fendar, her eyes squeezed shut. The whole thing with the Cassandra had apparently sparked a new fear of flying. Fendar was looking down at her with a bemused expression, clearly unmoved by her anxiety.

The other males murmured amongst themselves, checking their low-tech weaponry and going over plans. All but Rentir, who gazed at Cordelia with such open adoration that it made her heart clench. He trusted her so completely with this mission. She would be worthy of that faith.

She would bring him home when this was over. She would bring them all home. This time, things were going her way.

Curse be damned.

With a sharp breath, she faced forward and gripped the flight controls. “Let’s go.”

The ship wavered a bit as it lifted off, a warning beeping as something clattered to the ground outside. She and Eunha shared a look.

“What was that?” Nyx demanded in a high-pitched tone.

“Nothing essential,” Fendar said, dismissing her worries. “We need to move before we lose our window.”

As though he possessed precognition, the Gidalan chose that moment to strike. Their massive laser hummed as it began carving through the forest in pursuit of Lidan.

“Now, now, now!” Eunha shouted, wild-eyed.

The ship lurched into motion, peeling out of the hangar. The g-forces flattened her back against her seat as they surged up in the atmosphere toward the massive Aurillon ship. Eunha whooped as they broke through the stratosphere, the ship rapidly approaching.

That laser was still firing, but Cordelia could no longer tell if Lidan was successfully evading it. The ship was taking up the entire viewport now, a blur of golden metal and flashing lights as they skimmed along its belly toward its tail end.

“One-eighty,” Eunha said as a warning as they came up along the back of the ship.

The two of them cranked hard on the controls, sending the ship into a tailspin that the thrusters abruptly halted.

Everything loose in the cabin went clattering wildly, but Cordelia didn’t dare to spare a glance to make sure no one had been hit.

The shimmering forcefield of the docking bay was just before them.

“Fendar?” Cordelia called over her shoulder.

“One moment.”

She squeezed the flight controls, breathing deep for control over the surge of adrenaline in her veins. Something flickered at the very edge of the viewport, drawing her attention. It zipped in front of them, a tiny orb of golden metal.

Realization struck her like a bolt of lightning. She had seen this thing before.

They’re meant to monitor the airspace around the Gidalan, Rentir’s voice ghosted across her mind.

“Rentir.”

“Fendar,” Rentir said urgently in turn.

Fendar cursed beneath his breath. “I need a minute!”

“You do not have it,” Rentir snapped. “We’ve got drones. Unlock it now.”

A blinding wave of laser light scanned over them from the little drone.

“Fendar!” Rentir shouted.

“I know!”

The orb wobbled for a moment, and then the plates of its facade shifted, revealing two flexible grappling-hook arms and what looked like the barrel of a—

“Fuck!” Eunha shouted as the drone opened fire, lodging a dozen oblong projectiles into the thick glass that separated them from the vacuum of space. Alarms began to blare around them as alien text scrolled across the holoscreen. “Shit, shit, shit!”

The objects lodged in the glass were still moving as if with a mind of their own, twitching and burrowing deeper, until a hairline fracture forked through the pane.

“It’s going to give!” Nyx shouted. “We have to go back!”

“We can’t,” Eunha said desperately. “We’re not going to survive entering atmo with a fracture like that.”

“Well, we’re not going to survive the vacuum of space, either! Commander, please!”

The drone lodged both its hook-like hands into the glass, pressing itself close and scanning them again with that blinding laser.

“We wait for Fendar,” Cordelia said. “Eunha is right, we’re not surviving that descent in this state—and we’re not leaving Thea behind.”

The crack deepened audibly, and fear fell like a blanket of silence over them. When it forked nearly to the edge of the frame, she held her breath. Despair teetered inside her, threatening to overtake her good sense.

Failed them. Failed again. Cursed.

No! Not this time.

“Now!” Fendar shouted. “Go, go!”

Eunha recovered faster, punching the throttle and sending them lurching toward the hangar just as the glass began to give.

They slammed into the metal deck of the hangar as huge chunks of glass rained over them, heavy as softball-sized hail.

It pummeled her senseless, one piece striking her arm hard enough that she lost her grip on the controls.

The ship went spinning unrestrained like a curling stone over ice, slamming hard into the far wall of the hangar.

When they finally fell still, the others were so quiet that Cordelia had a moment of despair that they’d been lost despite Eunha’s maneuver.

Nyx whined, and there was a chorus of harnesses releasing.

Cordelia followed suit, blinking spots from her vision as she stumbled out of her chair.

Her knees failed her, and she sank to the metal grate next to Eunha, whose face was covered in blood.

Her eyes were closed, and her expression was peaceful in repose.

“No, no,” Cordelia muttered, crawling over to her. “Eunha, wake up.” She grabbed the pilot’s shoulder and shook hard. Her head lolled on her neck. “Eunha!”

“Easy.” Haerune caught her wrist. “You’ll injure her worse.”

Rentir growled behind him, but Haerune was all business as he flicked Cordelia’s hand away. He pulled a scanner from the small of his back and trailed it over Eunha.

“A concussion, I think. The abrasion to her forehead looks worse than it is. I believe she’ll live, but she needs the medpod.”

“Fuck, it’s moving!” Nyx shouted from behind them.

Cordelia turned, squinting through the miasma of flame-suppressant still hanging in the air.

The drone pushed itself up on its wiry limbs.

The scanner flashed over the nearest hybrid—Fendar, who was slumped over in his seat with his eyes closed.

There was a whir as the barrel of its gun trained into place, but it never got the chance to shoot.

With a scream of fury, Nyx hit it hard with a bar of enameled metal that had once been the handle to the storage compartment.

It slumped, but a moment later it was back up. Nyx hit it again, and again, and again, screaming obscenities all the while. It was enough to stir Fendar back to consciousness. He put a hand out to stop her as she beat the wreckage of the drone.

“It’s done,” he rasped, urging her to lower the handle. “You’re wasting your energy.”

Panting, she staggered back and slumped into an empty seat.

“We need to move,” Rentir murmured, gathering Cordelia into his arms. He buried his face in her neck and breathed deeply. “They’ll know we’re here now.”

The other males rallied, tallying their injuries—none of which were fatal—though Yelir was walking with a limp, and he refused to let Haerune inspect him.

“I’m fine, you fool,” he snapped, swatting at the medic. “We cannot waste time.”

Exasperated, he let the miner be. He returned to Eunha’s side, carefully gathering her out of the chair. “Fendar, can you locate a medpod?”

The male shook himself, tearing his gaze away from Nyx. “I need to jack in to the local network, but it should be an easy task.”

“Alright,” Cordelia interjected. “Let’s get moving.”

They climbed out of the wreckage of the ship. Rentir saved her from rolling her ankle when a metal joint gave way under her boot, sweeping her up and onto solid ground. His tail wrapped loosely around her waist as he set her down. Gently, she pried it away.

Fendar turned in a circle, squinting as he cast his gaze over the hangar.

“Hey,” Nyx said hoarsely, batting at him with the back of her hand. “What’s that?” She pointed at a flickering screen set into the wall they’d smashed into.

He brightened, clambering over wreckage to reach it.

“This will work,” he called over his shoulder. “Just a vidcom, but it’s linked into the network. Give me a minute.”

They stood by, weapons drawn, waiting for Fendar to finish or for the Aurillon to pour into the room.

“They had to have heard that, right?” Nyx asked in a low voice, eyes darting.

“Someone would have,” Rentir said. “But there are only a few who work this lowest level when the ships aren’t being mobilized.”

Fendar made a sound of satisfaction, turning and holding up the drive he’d brought.

“And now they cannot comm for help.” He grinned, tucking the drive away.

“Their security measures are down for now, but the AI is already working to reinstate them. I give us approximately twenty minutes before I’ll need to intervene again. ”

Rentir opened the comm device on his wrist, tapping so quickly that Cordelia couldn’t track the movement, then flicked his fingers. All their devices pinged as one.

“A map. I’ve highlighted points of interest.” Rentir’s gaze flicked down to Eunha in Haerune’s arms. “There is a medbay on the way to the crèche.”

“Yelir,” Cordelia called. The massive miner glanced back from where he was monitoring the doors. “Can you take her?”

Yelir nodded, shifting his hammer to his lower arms and carefully extracting Eunha from Haerune’s grasp with the upper pair.

She opened her mouth to reiterate everyone’s role when the double doors that led to the rest of the ship whooshed open. A fresh breeze swirled the debris of their ill-fated landing into the air, and she squinted against the grit as she automatically raised her blaster.

The soldiers and staff that stepped into the room froze, gaping at them for a long moment that was broken by the sound of blaster fire when one reached for his hip.

She didn’t know which of them fired first, but when it was over, all of the soldiers were crumpled on the ground.

The hybrid staff that had been with them were crouched on the ground, hands cupped over their ears as they stared in wild-eyed horror.

Rentir approached them, and they cringed harder, that horror growing as they took in his face. Clearly, they recognized him. She could only imagine what they were thinking. The last time they’d seen him, he’d been the ruthless enforcer of the Commander of this ship.

He put his blaster away and held up his hands.

“Easy,” he cooed, stopping a few feet away. “You’re in no danger from us.”

The male closest to him, a lithe-bodied hybrid with pink skin wearing coveralls, shook his head hard.

“You lie!” He clapped his hand over his mouth as soon as he spoke the words, seemingly realizing who he was talking to.

Rentir crouched down. “I speak the truth. This is a rescue mission. You must have heard by now that the hybrids planetside have rebelled, yes?”

The two males shared a glance.

“Yes, you have. You could join us—here and now. All you have to do is wait here for the others to return. Will you do that?”

The hybrids shared another glance. For a moment, Cordelia thought they were convinced—but then the pink-skinned male shook his head hard, bursting to his feet.

“I am loyal to the Empire!” he cried, staggering back. “This is a trap, a trick! I am loyal, I tell you!”

He turned and tried to run, but Rentir caught a handful of the males coverall’s and dragged him back despite his struggles.

A moment later, he pistol-whipped him, and the male went limp in his arms. That had the remaining hybrid, a green-skinned male with four arms, on his feet and backing away slowly.

Rentir pinned him with a hard look. “You, come here and take him.”

Reluctantly, the green hybrid obeyed, sagging under the weight of his colleague.

“Take him into the hangar and wait for our return.”

He ducked his head and dragged the limp body into the hangar, carefully avoiding eye contact with the rest of them. The look Rentir gave Cordelia when he turned back around was brimming with self-loathing.

She stepped over the body of a soldier to rest her hand on his shoulder. “You’re not that man anymore,” she said in a low voice.

Self-hatred melted into dismay in his big, green eyes.

“You’re not,” she said more firmly, squeezing his arm. “I see you, Ren.”

He loosed a hard breath like a stallion and nodded sharply. At the expense of professionalism, she darted in for a bruising kiss, dragging him down to her by his horn. When she drew back, his misery was gone.

There were so many things she still wanted to say to him, but there wasn’t any time. She released him with reluctance.

She looked back at the others. “We all know what we have to do, and we all know what’s at stake. Let’s get it done. Move out!”