As she hurried to obey, he disappeared into the bathroom. When he returned, his shoulder was bleeding.
“T’saran, what happened?”
“It is nothing.” He shrugged and pulled on a new shirt. “I just removed my tracking chip.”
“Tracking chip?”
“All Yehrin warriors have one implanted so that their remains can be located.”
He wasn’t making sense. “But why did you remove it?”
“So they can’t find me, of course.”
“Find you? You mean on Earth? Why would they be looking for you?”
“Because I am staying with you, my lady.”
An incredulous joy filled her. “Do you mean it?”
“Of course. I was foolish to ever think I could leave you for even a day. However, I will have to stay cloaked until the Yehrin return and my appearance will not arouse suspicion.”
Happiness lightened her steps as she flew around the cabin getting dressed.
Once again, he stopped and listened at the door, then led her rapidly through the ship until they emerged in a cluttered landing bay with a single small vessel in the center. They had just reached the base of the flyer, when Commander T’ngorzul’s voice came from behind them.
“Just what do we have here, Officer T’saran? Or should I say former Officer T’saran?”
Chapter Ten
T’saran pushed her gently behind him as he turned to face the commander. His hand had gone to his belt, but he answered calmly.
“I am returning L’ren to her planet.”
T’ngorzul stepped further into the bay, his hand on his belt as well. “I did not order her return.”
“But it is my duty to return her.” T’saran moved to meet the commander.
“You’re hardly a good judge of duty,” T’ngorzul sneered. “You almost got your Supreme Commander killed over a female.”
T’saran didn’t even flinch, although she knew from his story how much the incident distressed him.
“That was a mistake.”
“So is this. If you do this, you will never achieve another commission.”
T’saran shrugged. “That is no longer of importance to me.”
With a snarl of rage, T’ngorzul pulled a hilt from his belt, a blade magically extending. T’saran repeated the gesture, his own sword appearing in his hand.
The men sprang at each other, conversation abandoned. They thrust and parried in a deadly dance as she watched in horror. The moves were almost too fast to follow, but she suddenly realized that T’ngorzul was trying to get to her and T’saran was blocking him. She edged away from the ship, looking for some way to help. T’saran roared and she saw a bloody gash appear on his stomach.
“No,” she cried.
“Yes,” T’ngorzul panted. “You’re next, you pathetic bitch.”
Her hand closed around something that bore a close resemblance to a paint can. Gathering her strength, she threw it at T’ngorzul as hard as she could. It barely came close to him, but it startled him enough that he took his attention off of T’saran for a brief second. It was enough. T’saran’s blade cut a line down across T’ngorzul’s chest, then he reversed his grip and slammed the hilt against the commander’s head, leaving a line of blood from temple to cheek as the man finally collapsed.
T’saran swayed and she rushed to his side. Sliding under his arm, she tried to provide what support she could, but he was incredibly heavy. Gritting his teeth, he managed to make it onto the ship and into the pilot’s chair, but he was panting, and his wound was bleeding heavily.
“Hold on,” he warned, as the landing bay doors opened, and he launched the ship. As soon as they were clear, he pushed a few more button and sat back.
“Autopilot,” he muttered, his complexion paling to a sallow grey.
Lauren ripped off her coat and the mutashi and pressed the top against his stomach, watching in horror as it immediately turned bright red.
“T’saran, I don’t know how to stop the bleeding.”
He fumbled at his belt, then handed her the device she remembered from when he had treated her injuries.
“Need to cauterize the injury. Press the button and move it along the wound.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes. My lady.” He smiled at her as his eyes drifted shut.
“No! T’saran, wake up!” She raised a shaking hand to his mouth, breathing a sigh of relief when she could still feel him breathing.
Despite her trembling hands, she managed to peel his shirt away from his injury. The deep gash made her stomach twist, but he needed her. She had to do this. Taking a deep breath, she pressed the button and touched the device to one end of the horrible gash. A faint smell of burning filled the cockpit and she gagged, but she fought down the sickness. T’saran’s body jerked but he didn’t regain consciousness. With a muttered prayer, she continued along the wound.
By the time she was finished, she was sick and shaking, but the bleeding had stopped. She wished she had something to put on the newly closed flesh but there was nothing.
As the ship continued towards Earth, she tried to think of a plan. She had to get him somewhere safe, somewhere out of sight. As the planet grew closer and they flew in low over the ocean, it came to her. The boat—the wretched boat her father had left her would finally be good for something. All she had to do was get him there.
As the ground grew closer, she realized that they were headed back to Philadelphia, back to the diner. Of course, he must have simply set the autopilot to return. The small ship came to a quiet landing on
