Page 3 of Legacy for the Alien Warrior

“You don’t give orders here,” he snarled.

A couple of miners passing by looked over, then quickly away. No one would intervene. No one ever did.

“Last chance.”

Drask reached for Rory and she lunged forward, grabbing his arm.

“Don’t touch my son!”

The back of Drask’s hand connected with her face, sending her sprawling. The taste of blood filled her mouth as she hit the ground.

“She got her lesson. Now it’s your turn, freak.”

Drask raised his arm for another strike and she desperately tried to scramble to her feet, to put herself in front of Rory again, even though she knew she’d be too late. But the blow never landed.

A massive green hand intercepted Drask’s arm mid-swing, stopping it cold. The guard’s expression shifted from rage to shock as he stared at the newcomer. She’d never seen anyone like him before. A good foot taller than Drask, the newcomer’s massive body dwarfed the guard’s hulking form. His skin was a deep forest green, patterned with darker markings, and a neat black uniform clung to his powerful frame.

He clearly had some type of reptilian ancestry with large dark eyes, a flattened nose, and a wide, thin mouth, but she didn’t find his appearance distasteful, despite the scars that ran from his chin to his temple. Instead of hair, he had a series of ridges covering his skull and a thick tail—a tail!—lashed angrily behind him.

She scrambled to her feet, pulling Rory to her and shielding him behind her body, but the strange alien wasn’t looking at them.

“You will not touch the child.” The voice rumbled like distant thunder, deep and resonant.

Drask tried to pull free, but the green male’s grip might as well have been steel. “This ain’t your business, Cire.”

“I made it my business.” The male’s hand tightened, and the guard winced. “You will not touch the female or the child.”

“You can’t tell?—”

“I can.”

The green male finally released Drask’s wrist, the conviction in his voice seemed to infuriate the guard. With a snarl, he lunged at the other male. It was a mistake. The stranger used his momentum against him, slamming him into the side of thenearby building, and the guard collapsed into a limp huddle at the base of the wall.

The male frowned at Drask, then turned to her.

She pulled Rory close, uncertain whether to thank this stranger or run. His huge body towered over them, but it was his eyes that caught her attention. They were solid black and unreadable, but as their eyes met she felt a faint shock of recognition, as though somehow she knew him.

“Are you hurt?” he asked gruffly, his voice so deep it seemed to vibrate in her chest.

“I’m fine,” she said automatically, though her cheek throbbed where Drask had struck her.

The male knelt, bringing himself closer to Rory’s height. Her son was still rocking, but less frantically now. “And you, little one? Are you well?”

Rory didn’t look at him directly but stopped rocking to touch his own cheek, then pointed up at her face.

“Yes, your mother was injured, but she is strong.”

She stared at him in shock. Most people ignored Rory’s communication attempts or spoke to him as if he were an infant, but this stranger had immediately understood.

Although she was grateful for that—and for his intervention—she had a sinking feeling he’d only made matters worse. She ran a quick professional eye over Drask. Not dead—which meant he’d regain consciousness with an aching head and a thirst for revenge.

She looked up to find the male also studying Drask.

“Will he retaliate?” he asked.

“I’m sure it will be fine,” she lied, even as she tried to come up with a plan. The medical unit still had a few working cameras, and she didn’t think even Drask was stupid enough to be filmed attacking her. They would just have to remain there until he found another target.

“I do not believe you are correct.” The stranger looked at her and Rory and then back over at Drask, an unreadable expression on his face. “I think it would be best if you came with me.”

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