Page 8 of Tara's Warriors

Brief flashes of light burst in the distance as ships battled for dominance. Phin ignored what was going on in the air in favor of the reports coming from the battlefield he swiftly approached. White and blue streaked past his vision, the edges of the massive crater holding the village within sending a blurring burst of green as he approached. Like most cities on Ciltin, this one was built below the icy surface, where thermals kept the air warm and hospitable to life.

Above the entrance to the crater, a large, glimmering purple forcefield kept the huge attack ships of the mercenaries at bay while Kadothian ships attacked.

Lasers fired all around him, and he clenched his hands into fists as his transport dodged blasts strong enough to vaporize him.

He let out a sigh of relief when he pushed through the forcefield, the feeling of reprieve quickly vanishing as he took in the battlefield below.

The immense crater was set up in a series of rings, each going deeper into the crater until a vast, green forest filled the bottom. The houses, shops, and government buildings were carved into the crater itself, the pale grayish green stone strong, but not strong enough to withstand the might of the Hive mercenaries. Everywhere he looked, buildings had been blasted into rubble and desperate fights were taking place on various levels of the crater.

Following the orders coming in from his com link, he landed on the edge of the tenth ring down, a few levels above the floor of the crater. Ciltin dressed in battle armor filled the landing area. A few stood on their hind legs, but most ran fast on all fours as they headed into battle. Near the front of the building, a group of elderly Ciltin, their blue fur frosted with the purple of advanced age among their species, were arming a group of younglings. His stomach clenched at the fear in the younglings wide amber eyes as they clutched their weapons, readying themselves as a last line of defense. One youngling wearing teal ribbons in her fur met his gaze for a brief moment, and he had to swallow past a lump in his throat at her silent plea to save her.

They all flinched as a particularly large explosion rocked the crater above. Bits of rock broke free and tumbled down the sides. Ducking beneath the overhang of still solid grayish green rock protecting the building, he took shelter with the Ciltin, trying to shield some of the unarmored younglings with his body. As soon as the rockfall stopped, he did a quick visual scan for any injured as activity resumed around him.

“Senior Healer!” A Kadothian Warrior in dented and bloody black armor rushed to his side. “We need you!”

Phin followed the man into one of the still standing buildings, almost losing his balance as a strong blast rocked the ground beneath his feet.

Bits of debris from above rained down, plinking off the forcefield surrounding his armor. “Status?”

“We have thirty-eight men down. Captain Ti’Mavi held the line against the invading force as long as they could.” Emotion filled the man’s voice as they waited for a group of Warriors carrying another injured man to pass them. “They knew it was a suicide mission, but they stayed so we could set up a perimeter for civilians. We managed to rescue most of them, but… it is bad, Senior Healer. They…they acted with great honor. They saved my life, sir.”

“I will do everything in my power to help them,” Phin said as he began to sink into his role as healer, readying himself for the fight between life and death to come.

He ducked beneath a fallen beam as the Warrior in his black armor led him deeper inside what turned out to be a theater. The sloping row of seats shaped for the Ciltin’s large bodies ended at a circular stage filled with wounded and a triage unit. There was only one other Kadothian healer in green armor, the rest wore the black of Warriors or the blue of Negotiators.

Cursing internally, Phin asked his escort, “Where are the rest of your healers?”

“Dead, sir. The mercenaries came in quick, and the first building they targeted held our healers and scouts. Captain Ti’Mavi did his best to rescue as many as he could, but we did not have a lot of time. Someone sabotaged the shield long enough for a group of mercenary Hunter Stalkers to get in.”

Swearing out loud this time, Phin resisted the urge to glance over his shoulder. Hunter Stalkers were considered the best of the best among the mercenaries—men and women with an exceptional skill set not only at stealth, but also murder. It was said they could kill you before you were even aware they were there.

“Are the Hunter Stalkers still active?”

“A few might be, sir. Captain Ti’Mavi and his men killed four of them. We do not know if he got them all, but they usually do not travel in groups larger than six.”

Lights flickered and dust filled the air, but someone had already set up a small healing unit a few rooms back. The air cleared as the purifier worked, and Phin let out a curse as he took in the scores of wounded. Climbing the steps, he stumbled for a moment as the full strength of the psychic agony saturating the air punched him in the gut. No matter how many times he walked onto a battlefield, he was never ready for the initial blast of pain. Being a physical empath was one of the essential gifts that made a Healer a Healer, but it was a hard gift to bear. It was only his extensive training that allowed him to close his thoughts to the wounded set up on portable medical tables around him, to keep from getting sucked into the psychic whirlpool of their combined pain.

Pausing for a moment, he opened himself up enough to get a quick scan of the room, to feel who could be saved and who to offer a swift and painless death.

Right away his soul rang, as if resonating with another spirit nearby.

Shaken, he reached out again, and the chime of another soul, familiar yet unknown, touching his came stronger.

“Senior Healer Dobrin,” came a shout from deeper in the room, drawing his attention back to the present. “We need your help!”

Rushing to their side, he knelt next to a Warrior with half his face melted off, the bone clearly showing in places. Various parts of the Warriors armor had been similarly melted but the Healer at the injured man’s side had already stabilized him as best he could.

“Can you help him?” the young Healer asked, desperation thick in his voice.

While the damage was extensive, and the Warrior would have to have parts of his body replaced by bio-medical prosthetics, he would survive.

If they managed to beat back the Hive.

With all the attacks going on across the surface of the planet, help wouldn’t be coming anytime soon. The boom of large weapons grew more frequent, and he kept a running commentary on the battle above scrolling through a portion of his visor. The fight wasn’t going well. He had to patch up these men as best he could and pray the Warriors above would give them the time they needed. While he worked on the young Warrior, that ring kept vibrating his soul, but he couldn’t investigate it when he held someone’s life in his hands.

As he took off his pack and set to work, a strange calm came over him, the peace of the Lord of Life filling his mind and soul.

Slowly, he reattached limbs, sealed up gaping wounds, and worked as quickly as he could using nanobots to stitch new synthetic flesh, bone, and muscle.

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