Page 6 of Claimed by an Alien Warrior

As though all that weren’t enough, the humans had nearly taken his nyrosfrom him.

Though humans were a relatively primitive species, and he was dishonored by being their captive, it would be foolish to underestimate them. Succumbing to his rage and bitterness would only ensure that his escape would end in failure — that he’d never return to his people and report the outcome of his Nes’rak, that he’d never add the names of the dead to the annals of the valiant slain.

He would never end his duty and close the circle.

Humans are not the enemy of the aligarii,he told himself.I must not forget the korvaxx, who are the true threat. The creatures on this planet have no understanding of what it is they have done.

No…Stantz understands. He knows exactly what he’s done and holds no remorse for it.

Growling to himself, he cast aside the outward distractions — and his own negative thoughts — and focused on the lessons of his youth.

Control. Detachment. Instinct. Selflessness. Honor.

All things in service of the Nes’rak. My life for the aligarii.

He’d been trained since his earliest youth to be a warrior. He was Aekhora, one of the chosen warriors, whether his companions lived or not. He was Rendash.

He clenched his jaw as the fire inside was stoked, spreading heat to his extremities. If this was his sole opportunity, he would seize it, and he would puteverythinginto the attempt.

Control.

Rendash’s nyros poured strength into his arms, and his muscles bulged. Nostrils flaring, he exerted force against his arm restraints. The metal shackles groaned and dug into his skin. He pushed his nyros harder, fanning the internal flame and forcing more power from it. Pain coursed through him, biting down into his bones and threatening to steal his breath.

Detachment.

With a growl, he shoved his pain aside and pumped more energy into the effort, straining his body and mind beyond their current limits. A metallic pop signaled one of the fasteners finally giving. The sound repeated several more times as the remaining bolts broke free. His arms darted up over his head with the sudden release of pressure, jolting his entire body.

His upper and lower arm on each side were bound together by the heavy cuffs, which had detached from the chair but not opened, effectively leaving him with two functional arms rather than four. In that respect, at least, he was currently on equal footing with the humans.

The transport shook with a sudden loss of speed, stuttering violently and forcing him back into his rear-facing chair. Rendash tugged the black cloth off his head. The chamber was filled with impenetrable darkness. His nyros could be used to alter his vision, but it wouldn’t be worth the expenditure of energy.

He allowed himself a moment’s rest, relaxing his muscles and his nyros. Fully recovered, he would have been able to massively increase the strength of his muscles through his nyros with little more than a thought, but he’d fallen far.

Rendash raised his left arms and clenched his jaw in concentration as the transport came to a full stop. A vrahsk — flickering and sputtering like it had during his first inexperienced attempts to form it, so many years before — extended from the back of one hand. The wide, curved energy blade cast a soft purple glow over Rendash and his surroundings, revealing smooth, bare metal walls.

He ignored the pain in his stiff muscles as he bent forward and set the vrahsk to his leg restraints. Metal sizzled as the blade sliced through it. The shackles fell to the floor of the transport with heavy clangs, and Rendash stretched his legs gratefully.

A light flashed on overhead, pure white and blinding in its intensity. Slitting his eyes, he lifted his right arms to shield his face. Machinery rumbled; they were opening the door.

Awareness pulsed through his mind — the command module of his ship. It was very distant, but the tracking beacon was operational. That meant there was a chance the module itself, which could operate as a ship on its own, was functional.

There was a chance it could get him home.

Rendash’s eyes adjusted quickly to the light, but he didn’t lower his hands. He peered through the gap between his right forearms to see four humans in dark attire gathered at the opening. They directed their blaster-like weapons at Rendash.

“Sedate the specimen and get it restrained!” Stantz commanded, voice muffled by his mask.

Instinct.

Rendash released his conscious thought, devoting his mind to controlling his nyros. He projected a shield in front of himself and filled his legs with additional strength.

For my Umen’rak.

He leapt forward.

Startled, the humans shouted and fired their weapons. The solid projectiles disintegrated against Rendash’s shield. Each impact jolted him, threatened to bring down the barrier, and added to the heat building inside him.

He landed in the middle of their front line, knocking two humans to the ground. As he rose, he plunged his vrahsk into the chest of the third human, simultaneously swinging his right arms to hammer his shackle into the face of the fourth. Warm blood splattered on Rendash’s scales as both men fell.

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