Stopping short, she palmed a dagger, drew her arm back, and—utilizing every ounce of her preternatural strength—slammed the blade and her fist into the wall right in front of the Gathendien.
Or so she thought.
Pain shot through her hand and raced up her arm as her fist plowed through metal and…
“Oh gross,” she gritted, her voice strained. “I think…” She grimaced in both agony and disgust as something warm and gooey coated her damaged flesh. “I think I just punched a hole in his chest.” She hadn’t even meant to stab him really. She’d just thought the blade would facilitate her piercing the wall so she could block his forward progress. But her fist was now encased in something that felt like rubbery flesh. “Is that possible? Are Gathendiens so fragile that you can punch a hole in their chest?” She glanced at Dagon and the others.
Every man gaped at her.
Something metal clattered to the floor on the other side of the wall.
“Well, don’t just stand there,” she urged. “Cut him out before he blows us all up.” She thought it a safe guess that he still carried explosives (he wouldn’t be heading toward the next thruster if he didn’t) and wondered if that was what she’d heard hit the floor.
The engineer leapt forward and started cutting into the wall with a laser torch.
The Gathendien staggered. Thick hands pried at her wrist, trying to force her to release him.
“Ouch. That hurts, damn it,” she growled. Tucking the fingers of her free hand into the hole she’d punched, she pulled at the edges but accomplished little more than widening it a bit. It was thick enough that she would not have been able to penetrate it had she not used the awesomely strong dagger Joral had made for her.
When the Gathendien’s weight pressed forward as though he were bending at the waist, she tried to bring her telekinesis into play and freeze him in place. But her telekinetic abilities were of little use when she couldn’t see her target and—even then—required concentration that pain tended to shatter. So she had to rely on preternatural strength to keep her fist right where it was and hold him upright. If he had indeed dropped the explosive, she didn’t want him to be able to pick it up and activate it.
If it weren’t already activated.
The alien continued to struggle. Every movement sent shards of pain slicing through her. It felt like she’d broken every bone in her hand. And maybe her wrist as well.
A steady stream of curses spilled from her lips as Dagon joined her.
“Can you withdraw your hand?” he asked.
“No. He dropped something. If I don’t hold him in place, he’ll be able to bend down and pick it up.”
Dagon turned to the engineering guy. “Lanaar, cut here and here. Quickly. And don’t burn her.”
The man nodded. Abandoning the circle he had been cutting, he brought the torch as close to Eliana’s arm as he could and began to cut the two lines.
Eliana again felt a rush of affection for Dagon when he used his hands to form a shield of sorts between her flesh and the hot laser beam. As soon as the engineer finished, Eliana patted Dagon’s hands to get him to withdraw them, then tucked the fingers of her free hand into the hole and pulled.
A triangle of wall began to curl back under the pressure.
Dagon grasped the edges on either side and pulled with her. As soon as the hole was wide enough, he shoved his arm in and grabbed the alien. “I have him. You can let go.”
Relieved, she drew her hand—still fisted around her blade—out of the wall and stared down at it. A thick blue gel with a strong metallic scent coated it. Dropping the blade, she gingerly cupped her damaged fingers and glanced up at Dagon. “This is what Gathendien blood looks like?”
He studied her hand. “No. I don’t know what the srul that is.”
Tilting his head, Dagon tapped his earpiece. “Adaos, we need you on Deck 1, Corridor 12 immediately.”
“On my way,” his friend responded.
Dagon clamped his lips together as he studied Eliana’s damaged hand. It was already beginning to swell. And she had clearly broken multiple bones in it.
His fingers tightened around the intruder’s neck. The intruder offered no struggle other than to rest more weight on Dagon’s hand.
If Eliana had—as she feared—punched a hole in the intruder’s chest, Dagon might be the only thing holding the alien upright.
His gaze again lowered to the viscous blue liquid that coated her hand and wrist.
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stab him. I just thought the blade would help me pierce the wall easier so I could grab him, but I miscalculated his forward momentum.”
He frowned. “What?”
“Do you think Adaos will be able to save him?”
He stared at her. “You think I summoned Adaos for the intruder?”
Her brow furrowed. “Well, yeah. He’s not going to be of much use to us if he dies.”
Unbelievable. “I summoned him for you, Eliana. You’ve broken every bone in your hand.” Punching through a drekking wall no one else on this ship could breach without a laser torch or the sustained fire of a tronium blaster or O-rifle.
She forced a smile, though her eyes bore a faint amber glow that betrayed her pain. “Actually, I’m pretty sure I missed a few.”
The men clustered around them continued to gape at her, their gazes darting from her to the wall to Dagon and back. Dagon didn’t think even a Yona warrior could punch through these walls. He didn’t blame his men for being astounded by Eliana’s success in doing so.
The laser stopped. Lanaar swiftly stepped back.
Dagon nodded to Maarev.
His friend reached for the segment of wall outlined by the burn marks and pulled hard.
The metal bowed outward with a groan, revealing a blue mass in the shape of a man roughly Dagon’s height.
And it did indeed have a hole the size of Eliana’s small fist in its chest.
Dagon yanked the being out and forced him to the ground, where he lay on his back, unmoving.
“What the srul?” Maarev muttered.
Eliana drew so close to Dagon that her shoulder brushed his arm. “Is that…?” Her face scrunched up in confusion. “Is that his skin?” She studied the alien from his bald head to his toeless feet.
Dagon did the same. The hole in its chest steadily oozed that thick blue liquid. But streaks of maroon infiltrated it. Kneeling down, he touched the edges of the wound. “I’ve never encountered a bipedal being with skin this blue before.”
She crouched down beside him.
“Careful,” he warned, distrusting the creature’s stillness.
Nodding, she rested her injured hand on her thigh and retrieved her dagger. “You seem surprised. Is this not a Gathendien?”
He shook his head. “Gathendiens don’t look like this. They’re reptilian, their colors ranging from pale yellow to dark green. And their flesh is much harder to penetrate.”
Maarev snorted. “She punched through that wall as if it were cloth. I don’t think she’d have any trouble penetrating a Gathendien’s scales with her blade.”
Eliana flashed him a smile but sobered when she once more regarded the being on the floor. “He has no features.”