Finally, he reached a large door at the end of the hallway and turned the doorknob. It was unlocked. He quickly opened the door and slipped through, closing the door again behind him as quietly as he could. He found himself in the kitchen. He felt his gorge rise at what he saw. Lying on the floor were the bodies of several Sekani. On a large island in the middle of the kitchen was a dismembered body, a large cleaver sitting next to the skull, which was staring at him with lifeless eyes. Thankfully, he didn’t recognize any of them.
He walked over to the island and reached up for the cleaver. He paid no attention to the tears streaming from his eyes. The cleaver was heavy, and he held it in both hands as he walked back out the door he had just entered. He was no longer concerned about being seen anymore. He walked toward the sound of Krahn voices that were coming from the end of the hallway. There were two of them, though neither one was Toruq, unfortunately. Both were armed with knives on their belts. Janan didn’t care. All rational thought had left his mind as pictures of butchered Sekani floated in front of his eyes. This wasn’t what he’d envisioned at all when he’d dreamed of returning to Rajan.
Janan walked silently down the hall, hiding as best he could, so that the Krahn facing his direction was blocked by the Krahn facing away. He ran the last few feet and savagely chopped at the first Krahn’s leg, feeling the solid, satisfying crunch of connection as the Krahn screamed and fell to the floor. He swung up at the second Krahn’s throat, but it jumped back out of reach. He pulled the cleaver back and charged the Krahn, yelling unintelligibly. The Krahn crouched and reached for the knife at its belt. As it was pulling the knife out of the sheath, Janan swung his cleaver, cutting off the Krahn’s hand and burying the cleaver deep into its side. The Krahn screamed, its severed stump spraying blood all over Janan. Janan pulled on the cleaver’s handle, but it wouldn’t come loose. The Krahn fell to its knees.
Janan heard a noise behind him and turned to see the other Krahn struggling to stand. It was bleeding profusely from the deep gash on its leg. Janan gave the cleaver handle one more tug, but it was stuck fast in the Krahn’s abdomen. He knelt and grabbed the Krahn’s knife, pushing the body to the floor as he did so. He turned back to see the other Krahn was now advancing toward him unsteadily, its own knife in its hand. Janan had never been in a knife fight before. Up until that point, he’d been going on instinct and hatred alone. The limping Krahn hissed at him as it got closer, its hackles extended out straight from its head. It had height and reach advantages on him, but Janan was much more mobile. The Krahn would have a difficult time matching his speed with its wounded leg threatening to buckle under it. At least Janan hoped so.
He thought of throwing the knife at the Krahn in the hopes of getting lucky, but figured that play would only end with him unarmed. That trick might work in the old movies that he and David had watched aboard the Tukuli, but he doubted it would work in real life. He was no James Cogburn. Or was it Cobug? The Krahn hissed again and lunged at him. Janan sidestepped past the knife and brought his own knife up and stabbed the Krahn in the side. He ducked as the Krahn swung its arm back toward him, and then he brought his knife up as hard as he could, stabbing the Krahn through the bottom of its jaw and pushing it until it would go no farther. The Krahn struggled briefly as its legs gave out, but Janan held on and rode it to the ground, landing on top of it. He gave the knife a twist, making sure that the Krahn was dead. He stood slowly, his abdomen on fire from the large furrows inflicted by the guard in his cell.
“Very impressive,” a voice said from behind him.
Janan turned wearily and saw that Toruq and four guards armed with projectile weapons had entered the room.
“Drop the knife, snackmeat,” Toruq said.
Janan did as he was told. He was exhausted, and knew he wouldn’t survive if he tried to attack four armed Krahn. He didn’t even flinch when one of the guards stepped forward and hit him in the forehead with the butt of its weapon. The darkness was welcome.
#
It had taken three years to build his colony ship, and during that period, Ronak had lived on a large freighter that his warriors had captured near the moon of Ivros. That freighter had been cramped and dingy, with little to offer as far as amenities or comforts, which was why Ronak had been so specific in his demands for the colony ship to have a spacious living area for him to share with his bloodmate, Mariqa.
Their private quarters consisted of several comfortably-appointed leisure and exercise rooms, a fully-stocked dining room and kitchen, a computer room, and a large bed chamber. The chamber was filled with plants native to Krahn. When he was banished, Ronak’s brother, Maliq, had allowed him to take seeds and animals from Krahn. Ronak’s scientists had been able to breed them aboard the ship to ensure that the Horde had a consistent source of food. Ronak chose to believe that this was a further slap in the face by his hated sibling, since all the familiar items did was remind him of all that he’d lost in his failed rebellion.
Candles and incense burned in the bedchamber as Ronak and his bloodmate prepared to sleep for the night. The smoke slowly filtered out through air ducts in the ceiling, purified by the ship’s extensive HVAC system. He was lying on large cushions in the middle of the room, appearing as though he was close to falling asleep, though no one could ever tell with him, except Mariqa. He was too unpredictable in his emotions and behavior.
Mariqa was feeding the small, furry creatures that Ronak’s warriors had discovered on the planet below to her favorite plant, a species renowned on Krahn for its lethality. This specimen was still young, but it would need to be pruned soon, or it would grow too large to control safely. The creature squealed as it was lowered slowly into the gaping mouthflower of the five-foot plant.
She spoke to the plant like a child, stroking its leaves as the flower closed around the creature. “There, there,” she crooned. “Isn’t that tasty?” The animal’s squealing abruptly stopped as the plant’s stamen pierced its body, already beginning to suck out its life juices, while simultaneously injecting it with a chemical compound that would dissolve its tissues. At least the creatures are plentiful on Rajan, she thought. She would’ve been very disappointed if her plants had to starve for lack of a suitable meal. They were so ugly when they went into hibernation.
“The Stones must be found soon, bloodmate,” Ronak said softly. She turned to look at him, aware that although he looked calm, his emotions were barely in check behind his current façade. “These creatures must be found,” he continued. “They shouldn’t be on Rajan. They’ve caused more damage to my plans than all of the Rajani combined. They released the Rajani slaves. My slaves!” He sat straight up and pounded one hand into the other as his voice got louder.
Mariqa walked over and sat next to him on the cushion. “The fact remains,” she said, “they’re here. There’s nothing that can be done to change this.” Ronak rose and began to pace, a familiar sight when he was alone or with her; he never did it in front of anyone else, not wanting to seem indecisive or worried about their current course of action. “You cannot change the past,” she said. “You can only look forward to the next battle.”
Ronak stopped his pacing. He walked over to where she sat and bent over so that their faces were only inches apart. “Don’t you dare quote Xenic’s teachings to me, Mariqa,” he seethed. “He was a fool and a traitor.”
“He merely chose the winning side,” Mariqa said calmly, knowing how to stoke Ronak’s anger. She was exceedingly good at it by then. It was useful for times when Ronak’s resolve seemed close to faltering. She stood and walked over to the small cages located near the wall. “He served your family for many years,” she said, pulling another small creature from its cage and tweaking her bloodmate at the same time.
Ronak began to pace again. “He betrayed me! For what? I was his greatest pupil. He handed me over to my brother without a second thought.”
Mariqa didn’t remember either of the statements being true, but she didn’t disagree with him. She�
�d done enough for the moment. She tossed the last creature to her plant, and then walked over to where Ronak stood. “He’ll be the first to be skinned alive when we return. Once we have the Stones, no one will stand before our might.”
Ronak stepped closer to her. “Once I have the Stones, all of them will kneel before me, just before I slowly kill them. My brother will be the last to die, and he will be looking into my eyes when the life leaves his.”
Mariqa reached out toward him and slowly rubbed his bare chest, not unlike what she’d just been doing to her plant. “Yes, mighty Ronak. You are the slayer of fools. The Prince of the Ebony Night. You are High Vasin of the Qadira Clan. All will fall before you.”
“They will all die. All die…” he whispered, almost in a trance-like state now from her calm voice and rhythmic stroking. Mariqa smiled as she helped him to bed.
#
Rauphangelaa had steadily shown signs of improvement, and soon after he’d awakened from his induced healing sleep, they’d made the decision to leave the medical facility, knowing that the Krahn would only escalate their attacks on the site. They’d easily been able to defend the building, but they knew that, eventually, the Krahn would send too large a force for even them to defeat, and Rauph was still too weak and vulnerable to risk him getting hurt or killed in the middle of an extended fight with the Krahn.
They had relocated in the middle of a mild Rajani night, with Yvette leading the way; her ability to see in the dark a great help as they moved through the abandoned streets of Melaanse. They’d moved northwest, away from the coast, and finally stopped at a transport vehicle factory that David had scouted earlier. After a few weeks of living at the factory, they’d all noticed that they hadn’t spotted a Krahn since leaving the medical facility. As Rauph healed, he could walk with only a slight limp, though his healing ribs still ached if he walked too much.
They decided that the time was right to leave in search of any Rajani Elders who might have survived the Krahn attack, over Bhakat’s objections. First, though, Bhakat, Yvette, and David went out for one last reconnaissance mission, wanting to find out what had happened to the Krahn. Had the invaders finally left Rajan? It only took a trip back to the medical facility to answer that question with a resounding ‘no.’
Krahn bodies littered the ground around the entrance of the facility as the powered-up Humans and Bhakat killed them quickly and efficiently, and, sometimes, in ruthless fashion. They’d come upon the facility to find a dozen Krahn entrenched around the building and camped out in its interior. Now, with all of the warriors except one dead, they were set to question the lone survivor. The Krahn was dressed in better armor and an actual cape, which David had torn off during the battle. The Krahn commander had also been pierced several times by Yvette’s spears. Bhakat was holding it by the throat, and Yvette had a band of yellow power around its arms and chest, holding it upright. Blood from one of its wounds poured down the outside of the field, turning it a muddy orange.
“Answer my question,” Bhakat said menacingly. “Where was the Sekani prisoner taken? I know he’s still alive. He’d better still be alive.”
“What…matters one less…Sekani?” the Krahn answered before coughing up a gush of blood. Bhakat roared in frustration and pulled back his fist to end the interrogation session for good.
David held up both hands in a warding off gesture to stop him. “No! No, Bhakat. What’d he say?”
“He claims to know nothing about Janan,” Bhakat said, still staring at the Krahn.
“We still need him, Bhakat,” David said. “You can’t kill him yet. Ask him again.”
The Krahn began to laugh as more blood spilled from its mouth. “Hss…sss…sek…will be victory feast…for Ron…” it gurgled before slumping down in Yvette’s grip. She dropped her power band and walked away, disgusted by their inability to get an answer from the now-dead Krahn. She was disgusted with herself for having killed it too soon.
Bhakat threw the body against the side of a nearby building. “Garbage!” he yelled, furious that the Krahn had died so easily.
“Well, that’s just wonderful,” David said, throwing up his hands and walking away.
“They must be coming from somewhere nearby,” Bhakat said with his thick Rajani accent.
Yvette turned to look at him. “So, do we keep looking or go back and get Rauph?”
“We keep looking,” David said. “Every minute we delay increases the chances that Janan will die.” If he isn’t dead already, he added silently, though they all finished the thought for him in their own minds.
“We’ve left Rauphangelaa alone for too long already,” Bhakat said. “He’ll begin to worry if we don’t return soon.”
They both looked to Yvette. “I think I have to agree with Bhakat,” she finally said.
“Shit,” David muttered.
“We’ll return to the factory and collect Rauph and our stuff,” she continued, ignoring David’s negative attitude. “Then we’ll search for the Elders or the Krahn, whatever comes first. Either way, it’s time to leave.”
“Yeah, and who put you in charge?” David asked, his hands on his hips.
“James did,” Yvette answered. “But if you want to set off on your own, you’re welcome to do so.”
David didn’t answer her, but he followed her and Bhakat when they left the bodies of the Krahn behind.
#
Ries an na Van, Investigator First Level of Galactic Intelligence, was having a very good day. Not only was he returning to Asnuria in a much different capacity than the last time he’d gone there, but he was no longer shackled by the ASP’s petty rules and hierarchies. Now that his training was complete, he was an independent operator, and not subject to the inconvenience that came with the close supervision he’d experienced while a Commander of the ASPs. After waking up in a prison cell on what he later learned was a small space station orbiting around the planet Eddross, he had agreed to become an agent of Galactic Intelligence. GI was the clandestine investigative arm of the Galactic Alliance, and was overseen by the Security General.
Ries had been taken down to the planet’s surface and had completed rigorous training that had put his ASP training to shame. Eddross was considered uninhabitable by the Alliance, but GI had built a series of tunnels and underground training centers on the planet. It was where all of its agents were trained before being sent out on their own on assignments. The main drawback of his situation was that he no longer had his own ship. GI didn’t have a large enough budget to provide ships to every one of their agents, especially new ones like Ries. He’d been forced to rely on hitching a ride with a Frittelian freighter that was delivering industrial parts to Asnuria. But one of the reasons he’d been recruited by GI in the first place was his ingenuity and resourcefulness, so some small problems were to be expected; and he was expected to overcome them on his own. The minor inconvenience was tempered by the fact that he was still alive to experience it.
As he neared the ASP headquarters building, he checked to make sure he had his credentials with his lower right hand, while simultaneously adjusting the filter mask that he’d placed over the lower half of his face with his upper left hand. The mask had been the first thing he’d purchased when he’d received the order to travel to Asnuria. In the brief time he had lived there, he’d always dreaded going outside, afraid he would run into an Asnurian who wanted to talk. Their odor was a blatant assault on his sense of smell.
He walked up the set of stone steps that led to the enormous façade of the headquarters building. He knew exactly where he needed to go. He had left his weapons in his rental room, except, of course, for his standard issue photon disruptor. The other weapons would cause too much of a problem going through the security checkpoint. He had a license for the gun, and as a GI agent, would be allowed to carry it inside the building. After passing through security, he stepped into the hydro lift and proceeded to the top floor of the massive building. First Admiral Skatala’s office occupied an entire
half of the floor. Ries had wondered while working there what it would look like. Everyone who worked there talked about the office, but no one he knew had ever visited it. He’d never met the Admiral in person.
Ries stopped at the receptionist desk in the lobby outside the office. The Ingross sitting at the desk looked up at him with a bored expression on her six-eyed face. “Can I help you?” she asked, disinterestedly, moving four of her eyes back to her computer input screen, while a pair stayed on him.
“Yes, tell Admiral Skatala that Agent Van is here to see him,” Ries said, his voice muffled through the breathing mask. He’d left it on after passing through security. It was better that not a lot of Officers saw his face. He probably wasn’t the most popular former employee.
The receptionist punched a button on her tablet. “Is he expecting you?” she asked, a set of her eyes looking at him, while another set stayed on her tablet, and another watched the screen in front of her.
“Probably not,” Ries answered, “but I wouldn’t be surprised if he knew I was coming.” Ries had passed through security. He knew that the first thing they would do was notify the Admiral that Ries was on his way up. The ASPs and GI did not generally have a good working relationship. This was a delaying tactic, and it was beginning to piss him off.
“I’m not showing an appointment for this morning,” the receptionist said, turning all three sets of eyes back to him. “Are you sure you have the correct day?”
Ries had listened to enough. He pulled out his identification and slapped it down on the counter in front of her. “Do you see this?” he asked. “Unless you want to spend the rest of your life in a Tergarian mining pit, I suggest you inform the Admiral that I am growing impatient.”
Rajani Chronicles II Page 18