Free Critical Strike (The Critical Series Book 3) by Colin F. Barnes, Darren Wearmouth, Wearmouth, Barnes Page A

Vingo’s words. He went to raise a finger to his lips, but his gauntlet bounced off his visor. Layla smiled at him, until she read his serious expression.
    He thought his action was a mix of natural instinct and a reflection on just how good the suits were. In Tredeya’s atmosphere, he moved better with the suit on and had gotten used to it during the last couple of hours. Regardless of the reason, he recognized the distinct noise of a croatoan in close proximity.
    “Keep quiet for a minute,” Denver said.
    The group paused to listen. It was more of a silent flapping noise than a conversational croatoan click. The type Denver only heard when up close and dirty during a fight.
    Layla pointed at a waist-high wooden door to their left.
    Vingo, true to form, took a step back. Charlie put his gauntlet behind his back and ushered him forward. “You better speak to whoever is behind that door, because the only talking I usually do to croatoans is with my rifle.”
    “It’s a small storeroom that’s been empty for years.”
    “Something’s in there. Go on.”
    Without wanting to take any chances after the experience with the hunter in the caverns, Denver gestured Layla behind a bench and aimed over it. Hagellan may have helped them, but he couldn’t speak for the rest of their damned empire. It would be naïve to think that bringing down a mother ship and destroying their jump gate would go unnoticed.
    Charlie knelt to the side of Vingo. He shuffled toward the door and called out in gargled croaks without a response. He tried a few raspy clicks. The door creaked open.
    A croatoan the size of a typical six-foot guard, wearing a blue robe, sat curled up in the small space. A silver tube ran around the center of its head, covering the nostril holes. No doubt a hi-tech breathing apparatus. It clicked a long response to Vingo.
    Vingo replied and the croatoan crawled out of its cramped hiding place.
    “What did it say?” Denver said.
    “She asked if she was in danger, and says she hid here when the scion probe approached the temple.”
    Charlie scoffed. “She? That creature?”
    Vingo turned to face him. “Please don’t be disrespectful.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “Do you think you are the special race and the rest of us are just creatures?”
    “I never said that.”
    “Male and female genders are not uncommon in the universe. Many are a lot more advanced than Earth, and nearly all have different—”
    “They invaded our planet,” Denver said, not being able to resist cutting in at the apparent lecture. “We didn’t want to personalize them during our fight. They were our enemy. Simple as that.”
    The croatoan clicked behind Vingo. He turned and listened.
    “She says we can stay here for as long as we want,” Vingo said.
    “Don’t you need to get to your village?” Layla said.
    “The sun rises in less than a unit. We can rest here and wait for nightfall.”
    Denver stood and walked over to Vingo, thinking it was time to get things straight between them. “What’s your real story?”
    “I don’t know what you mean?”
    “I think you do. That’s why you saved us, isn’t it, to provide protection on your way home? We’re nothing but your bloody meat shields!”
    “We have common goals. You’re free to leave and go where you wish if your association with me is so difficult.”
    “I don’t think so,” Charlie said. “We both want to survive, but the difference is we can’t get home.”
    “A possibility exists if you help me,” Vingo said.
    “I’m not sure I believe you,” Denver said.
    “Believe what you want. I don’t have anything to lose by not showing you a way back to Earth.”
    Layla gasped through the intercom. Denver glanced back. Her open-mouthed expression curled into a smile. He wanted to feel the same excitement but couldn’t. The more time he spent with Vingo, the less he trusted him.

CHAPTER NINE
    Maria slumped against the small table and inhaled the black coffee, hoping the