Free The Morcai Battalion by Diana Palmer Page B

She’d heard things about the way the Holconcom fought, as a unit. None of the Amazons had ever seen them in combat or been liaisoned with them. The Centaurians had no female military, due to their obviously backward culture, she thought wickedly. But she had a feeling that if any of the humans made a move toward Muldoon, the Holconcom would mass and there would be a massacre. Higgins meant well, but his interference could bring about the very situation he feared.
    Muldoon was looking paler by the minute, but he stood firm. “Go ahead. Kill me. Or try to kill me,” he taunted the Holconcom.
    “Shut up, Muldoon!” Madeline called to him, in a tone that demanded obedience.
    He gave her an odd look. One of the other humans turned to the Centaurian next to him and put up his fists. There were more growls. The Holconcom began to merge into a mass of red uniforms.
    God, Madeline thought in anguish. There was nothing else she could do. If Hahnson didn’t hurry…!
    She heard the autodoor opening behind her with relief, and moved her eyes to it.
    But it wasn’t the C.O. It was Hahnson, grimacing. “Komak’s going after him,” he told her.
    “Think we have time?” she wondered with black humor, taking her eyes off Muldoon for an instant.
    It was enough. Higgins sprang into action. He went for the Holconcom bracing Muldoon and clipped him at the knees.
    Incredibly the Holconcom was like a solidly rooted tree. He didn’t move an inch. But his hand did. He caught Muldoon by the throat with one hand, flung the human away and slammed him to the deck, where he lay still, unmoving. Then he turned toward Higgins.
    “Oh, God!” Madeline ground out when she saw the Centaurian’s eyes. They were black. Pitch-black. As black as death. She’d never seen that color, but she’d read about it…
    She fired the Gresham, again and again and again, but the emerillium propelled plasma spray simply bounced off. She could hardly believe her eyes. Then, just as the Holconcom reached Higgins, there was a sound behind her.
    “Mashcon!” The single word had the ring of steel hitting rock. It froze the humans in their stances, like action figures. It muted the building growls of the other Holconcom.
    All eyes turned toward the doorway. Dtimun was standing just inside it, with Komak at his side. The alien’s eyes, as black as those of his Holconcom, looked and held on those of the Centaurian who had Muldoon in his grasp.
    The soldier’s eyes suddenly calmed. The black death was gone from them, to be replaced by a color that Madeline’s whirling mind couldn’t classify. His face abruptly contorted, and he screamed—something unheard of in the ranks of the Holconcom.
    The scream died. He stood there, facing his commanding officer with a fear so complete it seemed to radiate from him and touch every Centaurian in the mess hall.
    “You were warned,” Dtimun said, very quietly, “of the consequences of conflict. You have seen the power of the Holconcom. Now see the power of their commander.”
    He moved forward so quickly that he was a blur in the eyes of the humans. He had the Centaurian by the neck in a heartbeat. A split second later, his hand flexed and the alien flew completely across the mess hall, over the heads of the Centaurians and the humans, with lightning speed. The offending Centaurian hit the Plexiglas wall and bounced off onto the floor, to lie still with his huge eyes open, with his mouth open, as well. He arched, once, and then lay unmoving, like Muldoon.
    Madeline swallowed hard. She was a doctor. Before that, she’d been an elite warrior. But in all her battles, she’d never seen anything like the commander in action. She’d never have believed that any humanoid could move that fast until she’d seen it. Beside her, she felt Hahnson’s arm tense like a coiled spring.
    Dtimun’s black eyes calmed into a somber blue. He straightened regally, with barely noticeable effort, and turned to the others. His expression was