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  "There you are, my dear."

  Khyron and Grel watched her empty the glass and laughed drunkenly.

  "She's amazing, my lord," Grel commented. His feelings toward Azonia had changed somewhat, especially now that there were other Zentraedi females in camp. And of course the ale helped considerably.

  "I believe I'll have another," said Azonia. "Fill it up."

  Khyron smiled and poured. "My dear Azonia, I believe you could outdrink all of us."

  "And I'm just starting." She beamed.

  Khyron leered at her. "Excellent, Commander...excellent. "

  Minmei and Kyle were imprisoned in an ingeniously designed cage fashioned from a circular arrangement of giant-size forks-the downward-pointing tines anchored by the inner lip of a shallow bowl-and a similarly sized pan lid that enclosed and held fast the backward-bending upper ends of the fork stems. To offset the fear, and really for lack of anything better to do, the two captives pulled at their makeshift bars to no avail.

  Exhausted, Minmei fell to the bowl floor, Kyle beside her, breathless, his body racked with pain from Azonia's manhandling.

  "We'll have to try another way," she managed, gasping for air. "There is no other way-we'll never get out of here!"

  "No, Kyle, don't say that..."

  "Whatever happens to us-no matter what he does to us-Gloval must never give in to that barbarian's demands." Kyle wiped sweat from his brow. "Imagine the SDF-1 in Khyron's hands!"

  "Won't they try to rescue us?" she asked, suddenly even more frightened.

  "I wouldn't hold my breath, Minmei."

  It was difficult to know just what Kyle wanted. He didn't want the admiral to give in to Khyron's demands, but at the same time he was already condemning him for not mounting a rescue. This was all too typical of his recent behavior, and Minmei was further saddened.

  "Then there isn't much to hope for," she sobbed. It didn't seem possible: Hopes and dreams were so very real...

  Kyle was getting to his feet. "There's nothing to hope for."

  "But we can't lose hope-that's all we've got," she told him, unsure whom she was trying to convince.

  But Kyle came back at her with his usual: "All the hope in the world is useless in a situation like this."

  Minmei felt sad for him. She didn't want to hurt him but nevertheless found herself saying, "If only Rick was here-he'd save us."

  Kyle didn't hear it or perhaps didn't want to hear it; in either case, he had turned his attention to their captors and was now leaning between the forks and shouting at them.

  "Hey, you Zentraedi! Hey, you overgrown gorillas! What a bunch of brainless baboons! All you can think about is your own bellies, huh?!"

  Khyron and the others fell silent, listening to him.

  "What about your own comrades? What do you think about that? Does it make you happy knowing that you've slaughtered your own people?!"

  Minmei noticed Khyron's eyes narrowing. She wanted to tell Kyle to stop. What was he trying to gain by this, anyway? but he went right on provoking them.

  "Why can't you goons learn to live in peace for a change? I'll tell you why-because that would take courage, and you're all a bunch of cowards, that's why!"

  Khyron had been getting a kick out of it-the spunk displayed by this tiny creature-but accusations about cowardice were never amusing, especially since the defeat of the armada and Khyron's decision then to absent himself from the battle...

  The Backstabber got to his feet in a rush, smashing a bottle of ale down on the table that held the cage.

  "Careful, Khyron," Azonia said as her commander stomped toward Kyle and Minmei. "Remember the fortress..."

  "You puny little things," Khyron sneered, towering over them. "If it weren't for the fact that I need you, I'd...I'd crush you-just for pleasure!"

  Minmei was shaking uncontrollably, ready to feel that hand come down

  on their cage. She stammered, "Be careful, Kyle, he's been drinking!"

  The female, Azonia, was by his side now, and Khyron suddenly reached out for her and pulled her to him, passionately.

  "You see," he whispered to his captives, "I've learned something about pleasure..."

  And with that he embraced Azonia and kissed her full on the mouth, savagely; she responded, groaning and holding him fast. Kyle and Minmei were aghast-every bit as shocked as Dolza had been by Rick and Lisa's kiss years before, the one that had started it all.

  Kyle dropped to his knees as though defeated while the two Zentraedi drank in each other's lust. And there was no telling just how far Khyron and Azonia might have been prepared to go. But fate, as is its wont, chose that particular moment to intervene: Grel, nervous at the prospect of disturbing his lord, stepped forward with news to drain the life from the best of parties. "I'm, er, sorry to have to interrupt your...demonstration, Lord Khyron,"

  Grel faltered, "but I, uh, thought you might want to know that we seem to be, uh, under attack."

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Hierarchy, hegemony...these words have no meaning to a Zentraedi. They were a...compartmentalized military body. Dolza was created to oversee them, Exedore to advise them; Breetai, Reno, Khyron, and innumerable others to command; and the rest, to serve. But there was never any male/female fraternization. And that very repression of natural drives and instincts was in part responsible for the tremendous energy they consequently gave over to warfare-displacement drive as it was once called...How like the matrixed seeds of the Invid Flower itself, the basis of Protoculture.

  Dr. Emil Lang,

  Ghost Machines: An Overview of Protoculture

  Part of Azonia's intitation into sensual pleasure was to be pushed aside and told that the time wasn't right.

  Khyron had rushed to the nearest viewscreen, leaving Azonia where he had pushed her to the floor, hungry for more of his attention. A red-haired Zentraedi soldier stationed at a forward outpost saluted the Backstabber from the screen.

  "Greetings and salutations, Lord Khyron, master of the peoples of-"

  Reflectively, Khyron leaned back from the monitor as a fiery blast erased the soldier's words and carried him clear out of the remote camera's field of view.

  "What's happening there?!" Khyron shouted into the comlink, fooling with the console control knobs. In a minute, the soldier rose into view once again, hand to his head where he'd been wounded.

  "Fighters are everywhere, sir! They've taken us completely by surprise! We'll try to hold them off for as long as we can!" Earth mecha streaked across the screen's starry background, leaving contrails in the night sky. "Please, sir, you must send reinforcements-" And the monitor blanked out.

  Khyron frowned. Behind him, one of his shock troopers suggested that the Micronians might be mounting a diversionary raid, but Khyron didn't think them foolish enough to risk such a thing.

  "So this is how they answer my demands!" he said, suddenly getting to his feet. "Well, it seems as though our little songbird has outlived her usefulness-to them and to us!"

  Khyron ordered his troops to their pods and began to suit himself up in Zentraedi armor, bandoliers, and hip belt. Azonia approached him cautiously.

  "Khyron, may we please continue the...demonstration?"

  "Just as soon as I return," he told her firmly. "But why don't you come with us? The Micronians won't stand a chance with you by my side! We'll enjoy a moment's pleasure with them."

  Azonia hesitated; it was certainly an inviting notion, but she had been trained to lead, not to follow. Besides, it would mean that one of the troops would have to give up his mecha, and they were looking forward to battle to the last man.

  "And what about Minmei?"

  Khyron glanced over at the cage he had fashioned and spat.

  "We'll deal with her later." He put his arm around Azonia and offered to find her a Battlepod, as if offering to take her on a vacation.

  "That would be wonderful!" Azonia gushed.

  "We'll share the experience our people love most!" "Yes, we'll go into bat
tle together!"

  "Good." Khyron smiled. "I sense a great victory!"

  Outside the hangar theater, the Zentraedi commander lowered himself into a harness seat astride an Officer's Pod, which had been modified to support four topmounted cannons. The mecha was piloted by a three-man crew of micronized warriors. Somewhat below him, Azonia clambered into one of the standard versions. "Show no mercy!" she shouted to the troops lined up behind them.

  Khyron kicked the side of Officer's Pod to signal the pilots to move out.

  Inside, one of the crewmen asked whether one kick meant "forward" or "reverse."

  "Neither, you fool!" said a second. "It means advance to the left." "What does it matter?" asked the third. "We better do something or

  he'll start screaming at us again."

  Sure enough, Khyron opened the hatch to the control room and snarled: "Get moving, you idiots!"

  Zentraedi war cries filled the air as Khyron's alliance of troops and mecha charged into the night.

  Undiscovered by Khyron's sentries, two members of an RDF long-range reconnaissance team witnessed the charge from their position atop a granite outcropping not far from the hangar theater. They were outfitted in sensor-reflective antirad suits, complete with jetpacks, full helmets, and survival gear. The radio man had raised SDF-2 control.

  "Pelican Mother," he whispered. "This is Eyes-Front. The Dark Star has fallen; repeat: The Dark Star has fallen..."

  "Roger, Eyes-Front, we copy you loud and clear," returned Lisa Hayes.

  She then switched over to the com net.

  "Skull Team, you now have green light, over."

  Winging his way toward New Denver in Skull One, Rick copied the message.

  "Roger," he told Lisa flatly. "We're going in."

  There, was so much more she wanted to say, so much more.

  Khyron's forces crested a small rise and dropped into a barren hollow in time to see three of their comrades locked in hand-to-hand combat with three RDF Battloids.

  "Micronians!" Khyron snarled from his seat. "Prepare to meet your doom!"

  Vastly outnumbered, the Battloids turned and fled as expected, but the sight of the three Zentraedi giants fleeing along with them came as a

  complete surprise. Khyron began to shout: "Where are you going?! We have come to save you!" He didn't bother to repeat himself, though. His warrior sense told him that he'd been led into a trap. Ordering his team to a halt, Khyron spent a moment puzzling out Gloval's move.

  Of course! he said to himself. Gloval had managed to infiltrate his unit with Zentraedi traitors! Khyron turned in his seat and regarded his forces warily. But there was no time to pick out the good from the bad: On the high ground all around them, Micronian mecha were popping into view.

  "Fire!" ordered Khyron, barely getting the command out before the enemy guns opened up. Six of his Battlepods were taken out in an instant, and an explosive close call almost toppled him from his seat.

  "Fire!" he yelled again, hearing the immediate report of friendly cannons. "Charge!"

  "Skull Team, this is Pelican Mother: The trap is sprung! Over!"

  "Roger, Pelican Mother," Rick's wingman radioed Lisa. "Approaching assault objective."

  "Commander Hunter," said Lisa. "That's your signal to begin." "Roger."

  The heck with rules, she told herself. "Be careful, Rick. Khyron left several Battlepods behind to guard the hostages. "

  "Going in low," he replied, Lisa's last words to him echoing in his mind. Don't lose your perspective. But Minmei's voice was running at the same time in wishful daydream thoughts.

  It can't end this way, Rick, she was telling him lovingly. Soon we'll be together.

  Rick's face had a determined look as he nosed the Veritech still lower, the target looming into sight.

  Inside the hangar, three Zentraedi giants were playing cards, trying to shake off the buzz from that premature celebration bash. The fork cage was beside them on the table. Before they had time to know what hit them, a Veritech had blown its way into the building, swept-back wings bringing

  down two soldiers in its flight path.

  Three Battlepods guarding the entrance had already been blown to smithereens.

  The hangar was pure chaos; every soldier with an autocannon or assault rifle was loosing fire and bolts of deadly energy against the fighter, a bird of prey streaking overhead.

  Rick circled the stage, looking for Minmei and Kyle while he dodged steady bursts of ground fire, blinding searchlights in the dark building. In Guardian mode now, he nosedived his mecha to within twenty feet of the floor and made a pass between two Zentraedi, bowling them over with the Veritech's wings. When he put down, a third giant wielding a depleted autocannon rushed at him, connecting once with a blow that narrowly missed the cockpit canopy before Rick dispatched him with a savage thrust of the mecha's metalshod left fist. The warrior was propelled a good three hundred feet to his final resting place.

  Rick walked the mecha forward to the cage, pulling off the lid as he dropped the Veritech's radome to the tabletop.

  "Minmei, are you all right?!" he called anxiously through the external speakers.

  She was standing inside the fork enclosure, somehow tidy-looking and effervescent despite the ordeal she'd suffered through.

  "Yes, Rick! I knew you'd come for me!" "Of course I would."

  Looking up at him in the cockpit, she felt her heart suddenly swell with love and longing. Rick was like some guardian angel in her life, always there when she needed him-for support, protection, affection. And in that moment, she vowed to act on the strength of these renewed feelings, to demonstrate to him how much he meant to her.

  "It's been a...long time," she said softly.

  But it was doubtful that Rick heard her over Kyle's shouts. "Will you get us outta here!" he was demanding.

  Rick thought the mecha through a series of motions that allowed him

  to rip open the remainder of the cage, flattening the forks like a hurricane wind. As Minmei and Kyle clambered up the mecha's left hand and arm, Rick raised the base:

  "This is Skull Leader, Operation Star-Saver...Mission accomplished!"

  Lisa Hayes was already on her way to New Denver's theater when word arrived that the two hostages were safe and sound. But no sooner had her plane put down than she began to get an earful of complaints from an infuriated Lynn-Kyle.

  "I'm telling you," he was hollering in her ear, "he came blasting in without any regard for our safety!"

  Lisa could never figure Kyle out, but she had no patience with anyone who criticized a successful mission-especially when that mission had saved two lives.

  Kyle thrust his forefinger at her like a weapon. "That maniac almost got us killed!"

  "We executed the mission to the best of our abilities," she countered, angered beyond control. "If Commander Hunter's conduct was unacceptable, then file a report."

  "A report?!" Kyle screamed, flexing his hands. "Just lemme get my hands on him!"

  Suddenly Minmei was between them, holding her arms out like a crossing guard-a living cross to Kyle's vampire. "Stop it!" she shrieked. "Can't you see that all these people risked their lives for us, you ungrateful oaf!"

  Lisa waited for Kyle to deck his cousin, but Rick's equally sudden appearance caught Kyle off guard. The Skull Leader came walking out of the night shadows cast by his crouched Veritech, helmet cradled in his right arm.

  "I did it for you, Minmei," he said, approaching the three of them. "I sure didn't do it for Kyle."

  Kyle took a step forward, threateningly. "I'd expect that from you,

  Hunter." Now, Lisa said to herself. Now all hell is going to break loose. Things had been building to this showdown for three years...

  But thankfully, the argument didn't escalate to violence. Quite the opposite: Minmei stepped out from between Kyle and Lisa with a warm "Thank you" for Rick, and he smiled. "I was happy to do it."

  She seemed to stand there staring at him for a moment, then broke
out into a run that led her straight into his arms.

  Lisa heard Rick tell her: "You must know that I'd be willing to risk my life for you again and again." And as Lisa's mouth dropped open, the two of them began twirling around together, sobbing with joy like long-lost lovers.

  Just that, in fact.

  Elsewhere, Khyron's troops and the Earth Forces were annihilating each other. The last thing the RDF commander had expected was a charge; but then, he had never faced the Backstabber in battle.

  Battlepods and Gladiators met head-on, going at it with a ferocity neither side had experienced before. Here, a pod rammed itself into a MAC II cannon, self-destructing on impact, while close by two pods down on their backs and cracked open like eggs fought their assailants with blasts of heat and fire sent blowtorching from their foot thrusters. Azonia, the Protoculture charges of the Officer's Pod weapons system depleted, windmilled the mecha's hand-guns against its Battloid opponent. Zentraedi infantry troops armed with control rods torn from ruined Battlepods dueled Excaliburs, swinging autocannons like baseball bats.

  Khyron was still astride his undamaged cannon pod, directing rotating fusillades of fire against ridge guns and attacking mecha. Battloids challenged his position, charging in from all sides and scaling the four-cannon machine to engage him one on one.

  He wrestled a gatling away from one of these would-be heros and turned the gun on it, blowing off the top of the pod. As the Battloid hit the ground and exploded, Khyron emptied the gun on a new wave of Micronian mecha, laughing maniacally, as was the Zentraedi way to welcome death.

  Khyron was cursing the depleted gatling when one of his micronized crewmen appeared briefly in the cockpit hatchway to inform him that the cannon's Protoculture charge was likewise used up. Distracted, the commander didn't see a second Battloid that had reached the top of the cannon until it was almost too late. He sidestepped the mecha's lunge and knocked it off balance with a gatling blow to the abdomen. But now a third had suddenly appeared behind him, and again he twisted and swung the gun, nailing the mecha with a shot to its chest.