Mordjan

by Immortal Angel

Simban’s eyes narrowed and lips drew into a worried frown. “You mean she told you her magic had chosen you, but then after you did the surgery, it started to go away?”

  “Yes, and please keep your voice down.”

  “Gods, I never even worried about that.” Simban ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t want to lose Irielle. She’s everything to me.”

  “Maybe it won’t happen to you because you’re already mated.”

  “It better not.” Simban put a hand on his shoulder. “And I hope that Fayelle’s comes back, for both your sakes. These elves are a gift, Mordjan. You can’t imagine how amazing every moment is now that I’ve found her.”

  “Well, in case it doesn’t come back, I think I’m going to spend the next four hours with her.”

  Simban’s brows disappeared into his hair. “You mean . . . have you already . . .”

  “Is it that hard to believe?” Mordjan shot back.

  “For you?” Simban shook his head. “Sorry, man, but yes. You’ve been obsessed with work for as long as I’ve known you. You’re probably the best head of the defense force we could ever have, but not too smooth with the ladies. That doesn’t keep you warm at night, though, so I’m even happier for you now. I really hope this works out.” Simban slapped him on the back and smiled just as the two women emerged from the personal room.

  “Do you want to go back to our room?” Mordjan asked Fayelle, winking at Irielle. “I think Simban was saying something about some alone time—”

  Simban smacked him in the arm, and Irielle blushed prettily.

  Undeterred, Mordjan offered his hand to Fayelle, and she took it with a knowing smile.

  He had just turned toward the door when the floor seemed to tilt under his feet and he listed into the wall.

  “Cyborgs, come to the med bay. Cyborgs, to the med bay now.”

  The orders sounded in his head.

  “What the hell was that?” Simban asked.

  Mordjan turned worried eyes to his friend. “You know what it was.”

  “Ardak commands? Why are we hearing them?” He paused. “You don’t think the medic did something to us while we were under, do you?”

  “He did hook you up to the computer, Mordjan,” Fayelle broke in. “He said he was looking for some secret files. I forgot to tell you about it.”

  “And he did the same to you, Simban,” Irielle said softly from behind him.

  “So the medic is a traitor?” Mordjan ran a hand through his hair. “Either that or the resistance wants to control us like the Ardaks did.”

  Simban thought about it for a few moments. “The high medic seems like enough of an asshole to do it, but I can’t believe everyone feels that way.”

  “How many people have we actually spoken to on this ship?” Mordjan asked. “We have no idea how they really feel.”

  “Well, there’s only one way to find out.” Simban’s face was pale. “Shall we obey?”

  “I guess we’d better. Let’s see what he wants. Ladies, stay in the room. Lock the door and don’t let anyone in.”

  “No way in hell,” Fayelle responded.

  “Why doesn’t anyone listen to me?” Mordjan complained. “If this medic is really a traitor, he’ll have no problem killing you both.”

  “Then it’s a good thing he doesn’t have any magic,” Fayelle replied.

  “Let them come with us,” Simban said. “I’d rather have them where I can keep an eye on them anyway.”

  Simban didn’t know who he was dealing with, Mordjan thought, casting a glance at Fayelle. That might work with Irielle, but his elf probably wasn’t going to keep her mouth shut.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Fayelle

  Fayelle stepped back as Irielle stepped out and closed the door behind her, and together they followed Mordjan and Simban down the hall.

  “Just go along with what he says and don’t make trouble,” Mordjan warned her. “You can try to find out what he’s doing, but don’t let him find out.”

  She nodded. If the high medic were a traitor, it would be their worst nightmare come to life.

  The other three cyborgs were already lined up in a row in front of the high medic, and she suppressed a shudder as Mordjan and Simban stepped in line next to them.

  “What’s happening?” Fayelle asked the high medic. She didn’t want to make herself too much of a nuisance, but it would be ridiculous if they simply stood by without asking any questions.

  To her surprise, the medic answered, “We’re under attack by the Ardak ships behind us. Somehow they’ve not only figured out how to gain on us but they’ve also fired weapons at us. Another few hits and we’ll be gone. Our only option is to accelerate the implementation of stage three so the cyborgs can help defend the ship.”

  “Why are they lined up like that?” Irielle asked, glancing at Simban furtively.

  “That’s what it looks like when they obey orders. They become the perfect soldiers.” He spoke into a device in his hand. “Follow me.”

  The cyborgs turned one by one and followed the high medic down the corridor without speaking.

  Fayelle began to chase after him, her footsteps double to theirs. “What are you going to make them do? They would have done most things you wanted without you controlling them.”

  “Perhaps,” he admitted. “But it’s much easier this way.”

  Their footsteps made no noise, and Fayelle found the silence eerie. She and Irielle continued to follow at a good distance, but hurried to squeeze into the elevator at the end of the corridor before the doors closed.

  “This makes you no better than the Ardaks.”

  He shot her a look of complete disdain. “This is war. Until you’ve seen what I have, don’t lecture me on principles.”

  When they exited, they turned a different direction, and a plaque on the wall told her they were headed to the engineering wing. Despite everything else, she was curious to see the exoarmor suits. Elven armor was sleek and known to be of the highest quality, but this was sure to be blended with the best technology. She had high hopes that it would protect them well in battle.

  They emerged into an enormous room filled with long tables and different platforms.

  “Follow me.” High Medic Tassarion waved his arm and then crossed the room to where five bunks waited. “We’ll want you lying down the first time we power up the exoarmor. So each of you, please get comfortable.”

  “How are they going to do that if they’re wearing them?” Fayelle asked without thinking.

  The high medic frowned. “They aren’t going to be wearing them at first. To start, we’re simply going to attach them all to the power supplies and turn them on. We need them outside the suit in case they have an adverse reaction and it’s easier for us to get to them without the exoarmor.”

  “Where is the exoarmor?”

  “In here.” The high medic motioned to a table in front of the bunk. He pressed a button, and the top of the table in front of them slid aside, revealing the most beautiful suit of armor Fayelle had ever seen.

  Each piece was hard metal, smooth and shiny. She picked up the arm piece. The place where it would bend at the elbow was made of small, intricately meshed pieces that would slide over each other to give ease of movement.

  She took in a deep breath of admiration and glanced at Irielle, whose face showed the same wonder.

  “We followed the Ardak specifications to the letter, so the suits can be pressurized and fitted with artificial air canisters. Once sealed, they should be able to fly beyond a planet’s atmosphere, or theoretically, into deep space.” He picked up the helmet. “Of course, our engineers added elements of our own design to the make the suits lighter and sleeker. Our metallic blend should hold up better under direct fire, and with our crystals, their energy shield should be stronger as well.”

  Another shot from the Ardaks rocked the ship, and the doctor’s face grew stern. “Stand back while I turn these machines on. Then you two can stabilize their energy.”<
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  Fayelle stood back, watching as he connected Mordjan to the suit. She hoped that the doctor cared enough about the cyborgs to try not to kill them as he turned the damn thing on.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Mordjan

  Mordjan suddenly he felt the power of the suit. It was overwhelming in its intensity, vibrating every cell of his being. His vision went white, his mind went blank, his ears rang, and his chip received every frequency at once. One by one, his senses began to clear, coming back with a clarity that he had never felt before.

  Power.

  Total. Absolute. Unadulterated.

  His body hummed with it, almost as if he were lighter than air.

  It stole his breath.

  “Mordjan?” The high medic’s voice broke through his haze.

  He tried to speak but couldn’t find his voice.

  “Blink if you can hear me.” Fayelle’s face appeared above his bunk.

  He focused on her golden gaze, and for a moment, he was mesmerized.

  But her brows were furrowed with worry.

  Why was she worried?

  Blink.

  He blinked.

  Relief spread across her face. “How do you feel?”

  How do I feel?

  He felt like himself but also something . . . more. He had become something stronger, more powerful than he could have imagined.

  It was like . . .

  Like . . .

  Magic.

  He didn’t realize he’d said it aloud until Fayelle glanced away.

  A smile crossed the high medic’s face, the first he’d seen. “It’s like magic, hmmm? Well, let’s see what you can do. When you feel ready, sit up.” The medic disappeared again, and Mordjan assumed he was probably hooking up the other cyborgs.

  Mordjan tried to move, but his body didn’t obey. He started to panic, his blood pressure rising. The machine beside him began to beep.

  “Calm down,” Fayelle said softly. “It’s just the amount of power going through you. Sometimes we feel like this when first growing into our magic. You need to reconnect with your body.”

  Fayelle’s smooth voice became a wash of peace over him. She brushed her hand over his. “Tell your fingers to move.”

  Distantly, he told his fingers to move. It was hard to focus on his body—it felt numb, almost ephemeral.

  A moment later, she held up her hand, and his was gripping it tightly. “You did it. Now, tell your body to sit up.”

  He did, and his body moved; although it felt separate from him, completely effortless. He glanced at the suit and the wires connecting it to him.

  “Focus on your body, Mordjan,” Fayelle instructed. “Tell it to stand and walk.”

  He did. His legs swung to the side and soon he was on his feet. He didn’t sway, but he didn’t feel as if he was touching the ground, either.

  “Take a few steps and walk around the table your suit is on, but be careful not to pull on the wires,” she continued.

  His steps were smooth, but he still couldn’t feel his body taking them. “Can’t . . . feel.”

  “Yes. We need to rebuild your connection between your mind and your body,” she soothed. “As you walk, I want you to focus on your chest, focus on your breaths. Feel the air going into your lungs.”

  As he did, to his surprise, he could feel the cool air entering his body. He sucked in a deeper breath.

  “Good. Now I want you to feel your arms. Shift your attention to your fingertips, feel the sensation as you clench your fists.”

  It was working. Pinpricks of sensation were working their way through his limbs. He raised his hands to his face, almost amazed that they still looked the same.

  “Working . . .”

  She smiled. “Good. Now, shift your focus to your legs. To your feet. Feel them touch the ground.”

  His next step jolted him because he was suddenly aware of the contact with the floor. He stopped.

  The high medic came back, and Mordjan looked around the room, watching as the other cyborgs stood and tried to walk.

  Mordjan tried to focus on his body, to make it move the way he wanted it to. But each time his attention shifted back to Fayelle, he would have to start over again.

  A massive explosion, one that was much stronger than the previous two, hit the back of the ship. Red flashing lights and the low wail of sirens came from every direction. They hit Mordjan with a force.

  “Damn. I can’t wait any longer,” the high medic muttered to himself, pulling something out of his pocket. “Put on your armor quickly.”

  There was a commotion as each of the cyborgs put on his armor, and the high medic traveled between them, ensuring the connections were solid and making the connections for their helmets.

  A contingent of elves appeared in the bay—amongst them was High Leader Ruith. He was screaming orders over the sirens, and the warriors were grabbing armor and weapons.

  “Great,” Ruith yelled over the noise. “You have the cyborgs almost ready with their exoarmor! This is better than I could have hoped . . .”

  “Attack the resistance and take the ship so we can join the Empire. Don’t use your weapons full force or they will punch through the ship.”

  The orders sounded just as clearly in his head as they had sounded in Tassarion’s voice. The medic wasn’t just controlling them for defense—he wanted to take the ship for the Ardaks.

  Borian, Nordan, Jovjan, and Chihon each began to shoot, and High Leader Ruith barely jumped out of the way in time.

  “What are you doing?” he cried, his voice frantic.

  The cyborgs ignored him, using the weapons on their armor to target and kill the elven warriors. Several had already taken cover and were shooting back.

  Fayelle jumped onto Borian’s back, trying to disable his suit. It was a good idea, if it worked.

  Mordjan pretended to shoot, deliberately missing the elves as he headed for the high medic.

  But Tassarion was smarter than that, and realized Mordjan was coming for him. He began shouting into the crystal. “Attack the resistance. Not me! I’m with the Ardak Empire!”

  Mordjan didn’t have the patience to even question him. He wrapped his fist around the high medic’s throat, lifting him high and crushing his windpipe. Then he took the device as it fell from the medic’s limp hand.

  “Stand down,” he ordered into the crystal device. “Do not attack the resistance.”

  The cyborgs stopped, lowered their weapons, and everything went silent except for the moans and cries of the injured.

  “What the fuck happened?” High Leader Ruith screamed, running over to him.

  “Your high medic was a traitor,” Mordjan replied, showing him the device.

  Ruith looked at the crystal and all the blood drained from his face as he realized the possible ramifications of such a betrayal. “Thank you for stopping him.” It was all the leader said before he turned away and started to bark orders into his wrist com.

  Some of the elves were already heading for the elevator with the injured.

  “Take Tassarion to the air lock and toss him out,” Mordjan ordered the others. Everyone moved except Nordan.

  “Nordan?” Mordjan strode over to where the cyborg stood, immobile.

  Simban joined him. “Hey, man, what’s going on?”

  There was no response, so Mordjan pressed a switch to release Nordan’s helmet. They removed it, and saw that he was obviously dead. His mouth hung open and there was a blackness around his glazed eyes.

  “What the hell happened to him?” Simban asked.

  “I think he couldn’t take the electricity of the suit,” Mordjan replied. “Maybe it happened when he tried to shoot for the first time.” He scanned the bay for Ruith and motioned him over.

  “This is just beyond horrific,” the high leader said, and Mordjan could tell he was completely frazzled at losing the head medic. “The cyborgs have killed some of our best warriors, the Ardaks are right behind us, our shield is below 50
percent, and we’ve lost a cyborg as well as our best medic. I have no idea what the vok to do!”

  Another shock wave hit the ship, and it listed to the side, causing everyone but the cyborgs to lose their footing and stumble. Mordjan reached out and caught Fayelle before she fell into a wall; his cold metal hand closing around her upper arm.

  The lights dimmed, and minutes later, several more warriors sprinted through the door with several elves and Ardaks. Saara, Zaleria, and the Ardak pilot GhostDemon were with them.

  “What is the plan?” Mordjan asked Ruith quickly.

  High Leader Ruith turned to IceBlood. “We have a plan, but it will sound crazy. IceBlood?”

  The Ardak began to speak. “The shields around the Ardak ships will work to repel any objects of high energy or mass. However, there are small breaks in the shields that allow things to pass through. We can equip you with sensors that will tell you where these breaks are, and you’ll be able to go through them in your suits.”

  “You want us to fly in space in just the suits?” Borian asked.

  “You four missed the part where the former high medic explained that the suits are pressurized and can be equipped with air canisters for space travel,” Fayelle commented, her voice dry.

  “It’s still crazy,” Simban interjected. “How are we going to get into the ships once we’re through the shields?”

  “That’s surprisingly easy,” the Ardak replied. “They won’t be expecting you, so you’ll probably be able to open the bay door air locks before they realize you’re even there. Once you’re inside, you’ll have to make your way to the control room and disable the ship. This mission is exceedingly dangerous, the suits have never been tested, and we’ll have only five people per team, but it’s really our only option.”

  “He is correct,” Ruith said. “We do not have the capability to return fire while in hyperdrive and can’t push the ship any faster than it’s already going. Each time we get hit, the integrity of the vessel is further compromised.”

  Third Leader IceBlood nodded. “There are two ships, so we need two teams of five. We made some extra suits for our warriors using the Ardak specs, just in case we needed them. We’re sending the best from our ship to go with you. The non-cyborg suits can’t fly, but each of yours will have enough power to fly two.”