Rick took a deep breath of the thin air and hoped and prayed that he hit the sentinel with the first salvo. Otherwise, he’d be torn limb from limb. The fair Al’Kara waited next to him, her personal blade in hand. He didn’t want to tell her that it would be useless against the sentinel. She closed her hand tight, and a pale sheen shimmered around her fist. A translucent blade appeared.

Rick swallowed hard. “You are a psi-blade?” He’d heard of them, yet he was stunned to be so close to one in the flesh. They were rumored to be crazed mystics who extolled an ancient religion and were fanatically devout.

“Yes, beloved. And now you must know that the oath you had me take could cause problems.”

Rick looked at her, “No, it will protect me from your powers.”

Al’Kara shook her head. She then leaned in close and stole a kiss before Rick could pull away. “Beloved, you are so charming for a simple man. You will find out in time why it was a bad idea.”

The sentinel rounded the corner, its bulbous head and bright, multifaceted eyes glowing in the dim twilight of the planet. Rick sprang forward, his pistol shooting out three fluorescent green rays. They struck true. The sentinel reeled backwards. One of its arms snapped forward, grabbing at Rick’s shoulder. In its last moments, the claw-like hand gripped his shoulder and dug into bone and flesh. Rick felt intense pain and the pressure of his bones grating on each other. He was pulled over the edge of the small wall that he and the sentinel were atop. The weight of the sentinel caused more pain to lance through Rick’s unprotected shoulder.

Al’Kara let out a high-pitched wail, striking from her position and jamming the blade, which was a startling fluorescent green, into the joints of the wrist of the hand that dragged Rick down. There was the smell of ozone and a few errant sparks, and then the clawed appendage’s weight went slack. The sentinel fell away without the clawed hand, which remained in Rick’s shoulder. Al’Kara looked at him.

“I told you, beloved. It would come in handy.” She pulled him close to give him a kiss. He embraced her, and for a moment, it was only the two of them on the wall, in the ancient castle, on the planet Mars. For a brief moment, his training failed him. He pulled away from the kiss reluctantly. Her lips were warm and inviting. No, she is your prisoner. Stop that! You can’t get involved. You have a mission to complete. “We should go,” Rick said, pulling away from her. He tried to ignore the look of pain in her eyes.

“Very well, Ranger. Lead on.” She pulled away from him, head drooping.

He didn’t know why, but when she used the formal title, he felt a sting deeper than the claw in his shoulder.

* * *

Al’Kara did what she could, binding the wound and applying water from Rick’s small canteen that was part of his uniform, yet it still hurt. Rick pushed through the pain, and the two went deeper into the dark fortress. Through luck, guile, and Golgoro mental trickery, the pair found their way to the outside of the treasure vault without further incident. There, two Black Martian slave-soldiers waited. Their thick-bladed polearms, simple belts, and arm-bound shields marked them as slave-soldiers of Thrane. Their wide, flat faces leered into the dark hallway with large, multifaceted eyes that glinted in the wan light from the torches along the wall.

“Beloved, we must leave,” she whispered, pulling him by his injured shoulder.

He grunted in pain and pulled away. “I need to get my suit. Without it, I’ll never survive the rocket ride home.”

“We can escape to my homeland.”

“I must get to my rocket before Thrane.” He touched her shoulder and smiled. “I understand if—”

Before he could finish, she slipped from his hands and slid into the shadows. “If you won’t be sensible, then wait here,” she said with a scoff, then was gone. Her voice at the end was muffled by something, but Rick wasn’t sure what.

Dimly, at the end of the hallway, he watched the two slave soldiers, their heads scanning the area around them in constant sweeping arcs. Rick checked the power level of his Tellic, seeing it still had about half power. Will I have enough to get out of here, or will I have to use it on everything I come across? The idea of using his Tellic not as a means of defense, but to wantonly kill, terrified him. To be nothing but a murderous human, like his ancient forebearers. To be no better than the Thrane himself. No. Never!

He was pulled from his thoughts when he heard a strange humming sound. The noise drew the attention of the two soldiers at the vault. Rick noticed a distortion in the dark hallway. There was a shadow the guardians didn’t, or couldn’t, see. He concentrated on the distortion while his heart hammered in his chest. The shape was vaguely human. Al’Kara. Somehow invisible and striding toward the two guards without being detected.

He narrowed his eyes to focus on the distortion as it grew closer and closer to the two Black Martians. The two soldiers didn’t see what was coming, yet their cunning and feral instincts detected something. Their polearms whirled into a defensive posture, and their strange multi-hinged jaws worked in a constant, chewing-like motion with spittle oozing from the split in their chins to dribble down to the floor. Rick levelled his Tellic at the two, hoping he would be able to hit them and not the beauty who had helped him escape.

There was a flash of light, and he was momentarily blinded. He heard the hissing shriek of the two guards, letting him know they were blinded as well. Then there was the undulating cry of Al’Kara and the sound of a blade cutting through sinew and bone, followed by the wet sound of a dead body hitting the hard stone floor. He blinked rapidly, bright spots in his vision, and saw the form of Al’Kara standing before the two dead guards.

“Beloved, hurry,” she shouted.

He joined her and gave a look at the vault door. “How are we going to—”

Al’Kara stepped forward and tapped several runes on the vault’s convex metal hatch. Each rune glowed with a faint blue light. When she touched the fifth one, the light changed to turquoise, and the hatch popped open with a faint click and swung open on noiseless hinges.

Rick was about to ask how she knew the vault code when he was distracted by the sights inside. Dazed, he walked into the vault Piles of gold and jewels in mounds as tall as Rick were artfully arranged around the edges of the vault, many of them under sets of armor for the Green Martians with elongated breastplates, some with multiple sets of arm vambraces, and a few that had to be Golgoro battle-wear of brass, bronze, and gold.

In the center was the vermillion-and-gold suit of the Space Rangers, the helm set upon the suit but askew and not locked in place. Rick took another step forward. He heard, too late, Al’Kara shout a warning as the vault door slammed shut behind him and he was plunged into darkness.

Once the door shut, the only light was the dimly glowing sigil of the Space Rangers on his suit. He took another step forward, swallowing hard.

“Are you afraid?” The voice of the Thrane echoed through the enclosed chamber.

“A Ranger faces their fear,” Rick snapped back, reciting part of the code.

“Then we shall see how well you can face it!”

Lights ignited in the vault. Rick snapped his eyes closed, trying to banish the ugly flowers and pain from the sudden brightness. When he opened them, his suit was gone from the center of the vault. Instead, it stood several steps from him, besides the plinth, with Thrane inside it. “Come and fight me, Ranger! We will see who is worthy of the suit!”

The helmet of the suit rolled away from Thrane, who was not able to latch it shut around his snout. His extra arms pinned in the suit, giving Rick a small advantage. At least he isn’t completely sealed up. I have a chance.

Rick charged forward, breaking off at the last second to roll behind a pillar as the Thrane lashed out with a long-hafted spear. Coming up from the roll, Rick fired three times, aiming for the Thrane’s head. None struck, each one blocked by the haft of the spear.

“You will never win that way,” Thrane snarled. He whirled the spear overhead, charging as he did. His legs didn’t move well in the suit, but it would protect him from the Tellic blasts. Rick fired at the Martian’s face again. Each time, the spear blocked it.

Thrane let out another laugh. Rick dove behind a pile of gold and a Golgoro battle harness as the Thrane flung a spear at him. Rick felt trapped. How am I supposed to get around this? He’s in the suit. He’s armored. His face is exposed, but I can’t get a clear shot at it. How…