Planet X - Michael Jan Friedman [78]
“No,” said the lieutenant. “You’re Erid Sovar. You’re blood of my blood. And for the ancients’ sake, you’ve got to—”
Before Sovar could finish his plea, he saw his brother’s eyes grow wide. He watched Erid drop his friend’s legs with one hand, then raise his glowing fingers and point them in the lieutenant’s direction. And he saw the burst of deadly white light that sprang from those fingers.
Sovar closed his eyes, certain that his brother had decided to destroy him after all in a fit of rage and resentment. But as it turned out, he was wrong about that.
The bolt of energy never touched him. Instead, it leaped right past him … and struck a Draa’kon soldier who had recovered his weapon, sending him sprawling backward in the street.
The invader didn’t move. And for a moment, neither did the security officer, as he realized how close he had come to death. Turning, he looked at his brother again.
“He was going to blast you in the back,” Erid said, still holding his friend in his arms. He shook his head, tears welling in his eyes. “I couldn’t let him do that.”
“Of course you couldn’t,” Sovar replied. “No more than I could let anyone hurt you. You’re my brother, after all—no matter what’s happened to either one of us.”
Neither of them said anything for a moment. Then the lieutenant held out his hand. Erid clasped it.
“Come on,” Sovar told him, clapping him on the shoulder. “We’ve got to get you someplace safe.”
His brother picked up his friend’s legs and turned to the other transformed standing in the street with them. “You’ve got to get us all someplace safe,” he said.
“Amen to that,” remarked Shadowcat.
Taking the lead, Sovar showed them the way to his shuttle.
Troi walked down yet another gray, abandoned street, listening to the sound of shouts in the distance, probing past the oval windows on either side of her for evidence of a Draa’kon trap.
Colossus walked beside her, doing his best to remain wary also. But his emotions were still roiling over the three Xhaldians they had rescued minutes earlier—or more to the point, what the Xhaldians had said.
About the transformed being monsters—freaks—who didn’t belong among decent people. About them not being the only ones who thought so.
Naturally, Colossus had taken offense at their remarks. After all, in his mind, there wasn’t much difference between the transformed and the mutants of his Earth.
The counselor recalled the looks on the Xhaldians’ faces when they saw who had rescued them. Without saying a word of thanks, they had taken off—no doubt afraid they had exchanged one captor for another.
It was just as well, Troi thought. Colossus had been filled with so much heartache, so much animosity, he might have done something to the Xhaldians he would regret later on.
Suddenly, her thoughts were interrupted by another set of cries—more immediate than any of the others they had heard. Instinctively, the counselor broke into a run, her destination the intersection ahead of them. The mutant caught up with her after a moment or two, then forged ahead.
When they reached the cross-street, Troi’s attention was drawn to the next intersection on her right. A handful of the transformed had stopped dead in their tracks there—apparently, to pick up one of their number who had fallen.
But as they pulled their comrade to her feet, a barrage of energy beams sliced the air around them. What’s more, they weren’t the green disruptor bolts of the Draa’kon. They were blue in color and a lot narrower.
But who … ?
A moment later, the counselor got her answer. The transformed ran away and left Troi’s line of sight. But they were replaced by a large mob of Xhaldians, many of them wearing blue uniforms—and all of them armed with energy weapons.
The city guards, the counselor thought, and some citizens who had rallied around them. And they were firing at the transformed, when the Draa’kon were the real threat.
Troi could feel the Xhaldians’ fear and hatred