Xeno Reckoning: An Interstellar War Story (The Essence Wars Book 1)

by Paul Heingarten

  She heard Wexan's warning, “Selina, better put that down!” but before she knew what else, a shock rocketed through her body and knocked her unconscious.

  Chapter 4

  Selina woke in the Mardak infirmary. Monitors beeped around her, and the room opened into a larger area filled with the bustle of medics working on the sick. Wexan sat beside her bed but was on his feet soon after her eyes opened. “You're just determined to get yourself in trouble, aren't ya?”

  “You're not gonna start acting like you care now, are you, Wexan?” Selina's attempt at a laugh quickly dissolved in a painful coughing fit. She grunted and tried moving herself up in bed. Her efforts at sitting up rewarded her with a piercing headache that bored through the center of her skull, and she lay back in a series of groans.

  Wexan eyed Selina with a gaze she hadn't seen from him yet. She'd have sworn his eyes had a stain of compassion on them.

  “Look, just because you're a Xeno and all... damn it, I'm responsible for anyone on my watch.” Wexan coughed a bit before he blinked and glanced away for a moment.

  Selina focused her breaths, hoping it calmed her aches. “What happened? Last thing I remember was—”

  “Ignoring what I said about putting that device down. Maybe next time you'll listen. Well, our little friend we picked up was more than just a refugee. I had a feeling on that tech so I ran it, and sure enough. It's a Railen Tracker. They use them for locating Lookers.”

  Selina's eyes widened. “I didn't even know that was possible.”

  “It is, and whoever gets a hold of one has a huge advantage trying to find Essence.”

  “So the Railen are tracking them?”

  “The Railen are, plus anyone else with half a brain. First thing I thought seeing those two squads fighting was it was just another rumble between Omegans and Railen, you know, regular stuff. But this tracker, with these around now, it tells me they've got good reason to think Lookers are here. They can't catch a Looker without one of these. The tracker not only locates but incapacitates the Lookers and any other moron who doesn't know how to disengage the safety mechanism.”

  Selina rubbed her head and hoped the throbbing stopped soon. “Where's the tracker now?”

  “Got it on me. I was gonna turn it into Central Security, but I thought better we hang onto it, and see what we can find out at the Trading Markets.”

  “Sounds good to me. How about the Omegans? They didn't look exactly happy to see us back there.”

  “Omegans are pissed from centuries of being someone else’s errand boy. Former protectors of the Nara, the Omegans invested lots of time in their service and are ready to build their own empire. They've finally got it in their heads that in the grand scheme of things every race has their time to ascend to the top of the order and their turn is now. They've been getting bolder and bolder, and the Railen are one of their biggest threats, so go figure the two of them are gonna fight.”

  “How long 'til I can get outta here?” Selina wailed.

  “They gave you some super dosage, so a few more hours at least. Before I turn in, I’ll see if I can learn anything more about this tracker from my contacts. Tomorrow I’ll get you and we’ll get back on this together, alright?”

  Chapter 5

  After a fitful night's rest in the medical facility, Selina was released the next morning. Wexan met her at the front entrance, and they resumed their patrol. They both agreed the Tas Ralong markets were a decent place to try to find out if anything else like the Railen Tracker had showed up recently.

  The markets at Tas Ralong filled a tremendous abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. Once a huge facility for fabricating structural pieces for buildings, and vehicles, the structure found new worth with its large open space where rows of vendors hawked their wares. From handy devices to weapons that were pretty useful if you had a need, the Trading Markets filled the bill from basic groceries to murder for hire and on the hush hush. Lots of the citizenry needed one or more of the above on any given day in Tas Ralong.

  Selina clasped the tracker firmly in her hand, determined to not repeat her prior slip up. Wexan walked beside her. The Mardaks and others in their vicinity gave them a wide berth through the crowd. Sentry presence wasn't unheard of in the Markets, but it was definitely a wakeup call for everyone to hide any contraband they had recently decided to test on the black market. While contraband wasn't a known term in the markets, the people who lived nearby knew that just because you had it there didn't mean you kept it if a lawkeeper saw it.

  The rows of vendor booths were topped with banners that billowed like weeds in an open field. “There,” Wexan said as he pointed a few rows over to a red and black banner with a triangular logo in yellow on it.

  “The Syndicates are bolder than I thought. They always hang their shingle over here like that?” Selina asked.

  Wexan flipped a UA credit to a passing food vendor and swiped a roll for himself. As they walked and he gnawed at his snack, he commented with a semi full mouth. “Lots go on here that slips by the average enforcement groups. The Sentries and Militia have an understanding with the Syndicate and the Markets. They keep their dirty business between themselves, and we don't come in and bust all this up.”

  Selina eyed Wexan and shook her head. “I always thought we were here to shut people like that down.”

  “It’s not always that simple, rookie. Sometimes, you need to get a little close to the people you're after, spend some time with 'em and learn how they think. It makes it easier to know what they're gonna do next, and even more important, where they're gonna do it.”

  Selina balled her free hand into a fist. While she knew Wexan had a point, something in her burned at just being around so much criminal activity. But then, they rounded a corner where she saw a group of Mardaks in tattered garments; they picked out semblances of clothing from large bins. A little further down the row a few Mardak traded items for hot stew.

  Selina noticed Wexan had stopped as well and watched her. “See? Not that simple. This market's a lifeline for people since most of the industry left this world. Add Veculus to that, and you got a real problem. Look in these faces; if you can't see the fear there, you're plain blind. If we shut all this down like good little lawkeepers, how many won't have clothes to wear, how many kids won't have food?”

  Hearing the plight of the average Zormad citizen really drove home to Selina how similar humans were to Mardaks after all. All of them lay claim to a decimated home world and a lifestyle where the primary concern was living to the next day, and what it took for surviving that. Selina swallowed hard and dabbed at her eye as they walked on. She activated her in set translator in a feeble attempt at distraction from the squalor around her. They soon ended up at the flag with the Syndicate logo, where an older Mardak woman sat at a table with several metallic objects at it.

  “Hi, Kreela,” Wexan said warmly.

  Kreela nodded in kind to Wexan, but when she saw Selina and the tracker in her hand, she recoiled in her seat. “What's she doing with that?”

  “Not using it, for sure.” Selina narrowed her eyes.

  “Kreela, this is my new partner, Selina Ravencraft. We found this yesterday during a firefight between Railen and Omegans by the old mineral processing district. We're wondering if there's any more of these around and what you know about anything the Railen or Omegans are doing.”

  Kreela grabbed for a curvy piece of metal. Selina thought at first she was going to use it to examine the tracker, but Kreela just wanted something to fiddle with in her fingers.

  After a few moments, Kreela furrowed her brow and exhaled incredulously. “You got me. Syndicate's got a low presence here these days. But I know Network has been all open on the Looker hunt. Word is a knocked Looker'll get ya three million UA Credits, no questions asked. I suspect you'll see a lot more of these sooner or later.”

  Selina had heard about the process of Knocking. It was essentially a lock put on someone's cerebral capacities, turning the
m into a drone. Catching a Looker without incapacitating them was as useless as catching a fly on a piece of paper. The Railen Tracker incapacitated the Looker for a few minutes, but the process of Knocking locked their mind up and turned them into an obedient drone, where whoever had control of the Knocked person could command them as they wanted.

  “So they get them to locate Essence that way?” Selina asked.

  “Well, Essence still ain't that easy to get. But without a Looker, you aren't even doing that much.”

  Kreela's lips formed a line and, her eyes locked in with Selina's. At first, Selina thought maybe Kreela had some kind of tick or palsy that made her stare; the Mardaks seemed to do that from time to time. Selina then remembered Grisha's gaze on her and how it ended up in a conversation starter. Finally, Kreela commented, “You seem very familiar to me.”

  “Oh? I'm sorry, I've never seen you before in my life.”

  “Maybe so. But there's a connection somewhere; I'm sensing it.” She turned to the Railen Tracker and worked it over in her hands. Focused on it, she continued, “People go through life, through this Galaxy on this ball, and they think they rule their own existence. They think they control their own path, when in actuality we are connected. The past, the present, the future. People who raised us and are now gone away from this life, people we've yet to meet.”

  Selina’s jaw twitched. Her defense mechanism toward anyone who attempted prying too deeply for her liking sprung like a well-made snare. “What are you talking about?”

  “There's something about you, Selina Ravencraft. You're not telling me, maybe not even telling yourself, but you've got something in you that needs to be seen by everyone. Until you do that, you'll be always in a state of unrest.”

  Selina stepped back from the table. Unrest? She has no idea. I wonder how much unrest she'd feel if her dad was slaughtered for standing his ground. Tossing a look at Wexan, Selina stammered, “I'm feeling a little woozy; think I'll grab some food while you two finish up.”

  As she hurried off through the aisles, she glanced back and caught Wexan and Kreela as they chatted more about the tracker and probably Selina.

  She arrived at a vendor who'd just served a crowd of Mardak and ordered a portion of Aquand, a concoction not far from Earth water. She plopped down at an empty table and sipped the slightly cool beverage. The partly sour, partly metallic taste tickled her tongue, but she was more interested in clearing her mind of what happened with Kreela.

  Selina tried distracting her mind with their investigation, finding information on any Looker activity on Zormad and shutting it down when Kreela’s words popped back into her head. I've got something in me? Selina thought. Maybe she just meant my father and how he was killed. Of course I'm angry about that; who wouldn't be? That couldn't be it.

  Wexan found her twenty minutes later. “You keep bailing on me like this, I’m gonna ask for reassignment.”

  She finished the rest of her drink and swiped her mouth dry. “Sorry, Wexan, Kreela was a little hard to take.”

  Wexan gave a chuckle as Selina stood up. “Yeah, guess I should've warned you. Kreela's into UA Mysticism. Claims she's got the sight.”

  Selina nodded, her eyes astray from Wexan's. “Mmmhmmm.”

  Wexan shrugged. “Ehh, I never had much time for religion, me, but I know some swear by it. Like it's gonna resolve our issues one day. If that were the case, can't imagine all these people would be so hard up for Essence.”

  “I've no clue what she was getting at. I'd rather we get back to catching some criminals.”

  “Funny you say that. As I came over to find you, I got a notice on my comm unit. Energy theft in town. Perps just fled few minutes ago. Feel like a little fox hunt?”

  Chapter 6

  Selina and Wexan cornered the perps on the Energy theft and saved a huge relay system from being knocked offline. They returned the pieces back to the Mardaks, who restored the fragile but lingering power grid in Tas Ralong to its current state, mediocre as it was. Her shift ended, Selina headed back to NewEarth for a two-day break.

  The Commissary was a common meeting ground on NewEarth. The facility was built in the hope it gave NewEarth citizens the beginning of a routine for their day, even if it was just a regular place where they congregated, satisfied their hunger, and even percolated the smallest bits of gossip on their neighbors. The traditions of gathering from Earth were carried over.

  The Commissary was run by Ward Dixon, a former maintenance worker who'd helped with the establishment of NewEarth and had decided to kindle that one portion of the human existence, the sharing of stories and times good and not so good over whatever meager rations were available.

  Ward's Commissary was a business, but since UA Credits weren't quite that common around NewEarth yet, Ward happily adopted a more or less barter type system, trading basic items, or even the occasional credit type transaction—whatever it took so people's bellies were full and the NewEarth community kept growing.

  Ward greeted Selina as she came through the food line. His large belly pressed close to the counter as he scraped food portions onto Selina's tray. “How's my girl doing?” Ward said in his inimitable booming voice.

  “Eh, surviving. Just finished my first shift with a Mardak.”

  “Oh boy, sorry to hear that.”

  “Right?” Selina chuckled.

  Ward nodded sympathetically. “They come this way now and then; seen 'em when we do crop transfers. Bunch a smelly bastards.”

  “Try riding in a hover with one.” Selina smiled.

  Ward laughed. “'Suppose we gotta play nice though. Keeping order takes all the help we can get. I'm still seeing some theft around these parts too, ya know. Don't understand how people are so bent on taking things from their fellow humans.”

  “We all want more, especially when we've got so little.”

  “Yeah, I guess. So, how's your mama been? Ain't seen her too much.” Ward's lips drew in a line.

  Selina's eyes cast down a bit. “Recovering. I've been trying to slip her some extra water rations when I can. Dehydration sickness isn't pretty.”

  “No, it ain't. Tell ya what, I got some extras from my food prep. See me on your way out; I'll give you some.”

  “Aw, Ward, that's for your business.”

  “My business is taking care of people. If we don't look out for each other, who else will?” Ward extended a knobby hand to Selina.

  She swallowed a lump in her throat and blinked hard to bat away a tear that formed. She hoped the waver in her voice wasn't noticed. “Thanks, Ward.”

  Selina grabbed her tray and made her way to a spot on the far end of the large hall. She felt better with her back against a windowless wall. Ever since Regulation training, Selina was told to be ever vigilant, as even in a small community like NewEarth, lawkeepers inevitably became targets of those who skirted the law. Selina enjoyed her meal in peace as the wafts of conversations drifted around her. She mustered her courage; her next visit wasn't going to be an easy one.

  Chapter 7

  Selina had mixed emotions at visiting her mother, and she hated the way she felt about it. Her mother still lived in the same place where Selina had grown up. It wasn't so much the childhood memories that made it difficult; it was being where her father no longer lived that made the domicile a repository of grief and loss. Selina wished like anything that the memory of her father wasn't so closely linked with the place, but she knew that wasn't an option. This home was and always would be the reminder of what her life had been and painfully now wasn't.

  Selina's mother Laurina lay back on a makeshift couch, made of former insulation from the Ark Ship and reshaped into a contoured soft recliner. Her tired eyes greeted Selina as she entered. “Hello, my love.”

  “Hi, Mom. How's the back?”

  Laurina grimaced as if her back answered Selina's question on cue. After a few attempts at shifting, she gave a deep sigh. “Been better. How was your shift?”

  “Eventful. Got hit
with a Railen Tracker and knocked out for a few hours.”

  Laurina's eyes darkened with worry. “Are you OK?”

  “Mmmhmmm. They put me up in the Mardak medical wing. I finished my shift, and I'm headed back there in another day. I've been assigned to a filthy Mardak for a partner. They think I need more training, I guess.”

  Laurina squinted. “They aren't pushing you too much, are they?”

  “It's OK, Mom, I can handle it.” Selina knew, even if she'd just uttered a big lie, it was the only proper answer her mom needed for that question. Selina assumed her mother's concern was in part out of a sense of guilt or maybe responsibility to her dead husband that their only child was taken care of, even after that child became a grown woman with every right and ability at self-reliance.

  Selina glanced around the room and saw the monitor against the wall broadcasting a feed of activity on Zormad, reports from the Trading Markets, alerts on raids from groups like the Railen and Omegans, as well as a link to Network, the combined signal of open comm transmissions and warrants throughout Ling Galaxy.

  “They're finding more Lookers around here. Some in Tas Ralong, but my boss at the Regulation thinks NewEarth could be hit again soon,” Selina muttered.

  “There's nothing here they'd want.” Laurina managed a laugh that quickly turned into heaves.

  Selina fixed a portion of water for her mother. At her bedside, she cradled her mother's frail body as she took sips of the liquid. “Ward says hello, by the way.”

  Laurina smiled at the name. “Oh, that sweetie. Gotta get out and see him sometime, I do.”

  Selina knew, much as she denied it to others and even herself, the days for her mother weren't long. Dehydration sickness had already killed a number of NewEarth residents, and though Veculus hadn't worked its way into the human population, their odds in Ling Galaxy weren't that much different from the one they left behind.