Page 27 of Hooded

FERN

Klynn actually beat the forcefield. I’m still not entirely sure I can believe my eyes, but he managed to get through just as they increased the power. He was spat out the other side and fired into the wall which he hit with an unpleasant thump and slid down, unconscious.

Pulsar bolts ping through from the guards above and I want to get to Klynn, but there’s no way whilst these guards are trigger happy.

Eventually the firing stops, and an unpleasant silence descends. The forcefield which had turned red is clear again, and I can see Klynn’s motionless body, wings askew, lying on the metal. I race to the entrance and the forcefield buzzes loudly.

I shout his name. He doesn’t respond. I want to make my way through the forcefield, but given how he fared, I’m certainly not going to do any better.

A thumping pace with a strange rhythm draws my eyes away from Klynn’s fallen form.

Coming down the passage, flanked by metal-clad Tormelek, is a creature I recoil from. He’s clearly Tormelek. His hairy body criss-crossed with leather straps, pulsar belts, and scars, he seems to have half of his head missing. What’s left is coveredby a series of metal plates, one of which is fastened where his left eye once was. His lip is lifted in a permanent snarl by the scarring on his face.

He stomps down the passage towards the cell, his cyborg leg not keeping pace with the rest of him, giving his gait a sense of anger I’m not sure I’ve ever seen or want to see again.

One of the Tormelek guards has descended from the gantry above.

“Lord Halfen.” He thumps his fist on his chest and executes a short bow. “The Gryn…”

Before he can finish, the evil Tormelek slams him into the forcefield and holds him there as the guard screams and writhes before releasing him as a smoking ruin which slumps to the ground.

“Get him out of my sight,” he growls, and one of the others drags the body away.

He stares down at Klynn with interest.

“This one is trouble,” he grinds.

“Gryn always are, sire,” the remaining guard says. “Remember the last ones we had.”

“Good fighters,” Lord Halfen growls, his head coming up and his gaze fixed on me. “And good breeders.” His twisted face twists further into what might be a smile. “Now this little creature is not one I’ve seen before.”

“Narlix says it’s a human,” the second Tormelek offers, and I recognize his voice from the comm in the examination room. “Female.”

“Obviously,” Lord Halfen growls, his gaze raking down me, and I’m suddenly very aware I’m still very full of…Klynn. “And the Gryn just beat your forcefield trying to protect it,” he adds, turning his one-eyed gaze on the other Tormelek.

“Yes, and no,” he says swiftly. “The power was down. Anyone could have done that.”

The big scarred Tormelek looks over at the still steaming body of the guard. “Anyone?”

There is silence. A really, really terrifying silence.

Lord Halfen toes Klynn with his cyborg leg.

“Leave him alone!” I hear the words and wonder who is saying them. Until I have a single red eye glaring at me.

“It’s a feisty little female,” he growls. “Perhaps it needs a lesson on who I am.”

“I know exactly who you are. A dirty space pirate.”

What the hell am I doing?

He cocks his half metal head on one side and runs a black tongue over his sharp teeth.

“Dirty space pirate, eh? Guilty as charged.” He holds out his hands to either side. “But no one is going to stop me, and I have both you and the Gryn you so obviously care about.” He steps closer to the forcefield, the whine of the power increasing exponentially. “And if you want him to stay in one piece with both wings attached, you’ll continue to breed with him like a good little female, and you’ll make sure he does what I want.”

I feel the question welling up inside me, one I don’t seem to be able to stop.

“And what do you want him to do?”

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