The Forsaken Empire (The Endervar War Book 2) Page 20 by Michael Kan
It was what Alysdeon had always wondered: Had the Endervars tried to possess the sentient minds of this galaxy?
With nowhere else to go, Farcia let her emotions speak.
Just shards she whispered. Just dead pieces lingering inside. Not fully formed. Not like me
Alysdeon asked.
Farcia gasped. She wished the woman would stop talking and let her be. The questions, however, came, one after another. Alysdeon knelt down next to the mattress’s edge and placed her hand on Farcia’s shoulder.
The telepathy pressed up against Farcia’s mind, asking for an answer.
Farcia thought of that. Of these so-called others.
No she said, her gills dry. Maybe these others did remember something. Of her people. Of the dead language. But not enough. There was no true soul. Not like her.
Corpses she said. No, they didn’t make the transfer. Not entirely.
For these others, the past was a haze. It was a ghost floating through the psyche. The one on Alliance Command was no different. Farcia had only felt the vague outlines of the entity once there. Even so, she had chosen to spare the station. Maybe, she shouldn’t have. Farcia was sick of this. She shook and then shouted against the cloth. Alysdeon pulled back her hand. Soon, she had her answer.
I am the last, Farcia said. The last of the Endervars. You live, while my people are dead
The answer came less from the air and more through her thoughts. Alysdeon heard every word.
One universe? Farcia asked scornfully. This universe is it was never meant to be.
Glaring at Alysdeon, Farcia dropped her guard. She let her hatred speak out.
We were naïve. We should have tried to destroy you. Let you all die.
She referred to the old protocols. Of the previous attempt to contain and manipulate sentient life. Rather than annihilate this galaxy, her people had chosen to try to control it.
A mistake, she said, nearly sobbing. The visions, they were a waste. The attempt to migrate a failure.
The emotion came laced in pain. None of this matters, she whispered. Not anymore.
The thought had become her mantra. And with it, her anger grew. She wished to silence all doubt. She felt justified in every action.
Alysdeon posed the question, only to hear nothing. But she already knew the answer.
Despite Farcia’s attempts, she couldn’t mask every one of her thoughts. More than ever, she was exposed. She closed her eyes. She was done talking and instead sought to ward off any more intrusions.
Seeing this, Alysdeon decided to leave, but not before expressing one last thought.
***
Arendi watched the conversation. She was only several meters away, just outside the guest quarters. Her mind had synced with the Destroyer’s security feed, giving her access to both the visuals and the vitals of the two subjects inside. Through her machine vision, she watched the interaction. On one side was her friend, Alysdeon. On the other was the faceless woman, exhausted on the bed. Arendi knew the dangers, so she watched, vigilant. The scans were running every half second, analyzing, to detect even the smallest change.
Alysdeon’s heartbeat was relatively steady, even when the exchange was tense. She sat down, speaking with her implants, in a calm and curious tone. Farcia was the opposite. The vitals registered fluctuations in her brain and across her nervous system. Arendi saw the spikes in the graph. Despite her condition, the white-haired woman was clearly trying to access her power. She had even made the threat. But all that had done nothing to stop Alysdeon. She exited the room, unharmed. As expected, Farcia was completely impaired.
How do you feel? Arendi asked when Alysdeon emerged. They met in the middle of the hallway as the door to Farcia’s room closed.
Alysdeon let out a breath.
As Arendi had been scanning the target, Alysdeon had been doing the same, but with her telepathy. The hope was to extract the truth from Farcia. So far, there had been some, but much of it lacked detail.
Alysdeon rubbed the side of her arms. For her, the connection had been more than just an attempt to read thoughts.
She shivered, recalling the cold intimacy.
The raw sentiment had left Alysdeon drained. She leaned her back against the wall, closing her eyes, trying to gather herself.
Arendi had heard the exchange, or at least everything that been spoken aloud. She could only imagine the stress.
You shouldn’t do that again, she said. It’s too risky to be around her.
Arendi was more than ready to use the serum again. She could easily have put Farcia into cryogenic stasis and let Alliance authorities handle the rest. In some sense, the mission was already over. They had their captive. Despite the woman’s uncertain health, Farcia was secure. Both of them, however, remained unsettled. Arendi brushed back her hair. There was more at stake. She thought of everything Farcia had said.
Do you believe her? Arendi asked. Is what she said true?
To her, Farcia was still a stone-faced woman but one who was soaked in tears. Alysdeon, however, had peered past the mask of flesh. Straightening her back, her friend breathed in and wiped her eyes.
She sighed, knowing it was strange. She felt sympathy for a killer. Farcia was responsible for the death of billions, including her daughter. But her empathy told her another story. It was the death of an entire universe, an outcome that was now Farcia’s motive.
The war with the Endervars may have been won, but at what cost? Only now were they starting to understand the fallout from age-old conflict.
Alysdeon turned back to the guest quarters and stared at the sealed door. Locked behind it was someone who was both perpetrator and victim. The resulting entity was torn between two worlds.
The old Farcia, Arendi said. Did you detect her? Is a part of her still there?
It explained the affection for Red. But whether or not the host body could be salvaged was unknown. How the transformation had even occurred was all a mystery. This was beyond any of them, and still there were more questions.
In her mind, Arendi pulled up the woman’s vitals. Although the scans could monitor her current health, the rest was alien.
Will she live? Arendi wondered.
Alysdeon shrugged. She had no idea, either.
Her face didn’t show it, but Alysdeon was holding back her misery. Farcia’s sentiments and the memories of death lingered in her mind. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe. For now, there was nothing to do but endure.
Arendi heard this and could only think back to her own last encounter with Farcia. She had only seen the hatred.
Then she succeeded, Arendi replied.
She brushed back her hair and thought of all the victims. In the end, no one had been free of the pain.
Part 3: Sins of My Universe
We began to die.
So a desperate plan was called for.
We realized you were the heart of the universe
So we tried to control you.
Begging for the destruction to stop.
Chapter 25
Date: June 21, 4898 (five years after liberation)
Location: Sentinel Guard, Feradan training facility
Time index: 22 hours 01 minutes 53 seconds
Simulation commencing
He was standing there, next to the window. Between his fingers was a cigarette. He pulled it up to his lips and inhaled the chemical mix. He breathed out the pinkish fume with a long sigh and savored the taste. This was his third cigarette of the hour. The other buds were smothered in the ash tray. The red and white ash was powdered over his fingers and hands. Maybe it was a mess, but he didn’t care. His whole body was no better. His arms and legs creaked as the mechanical gears stretched and settled. Across the armor were flecks of blood. He didn’t bother to look in the mirror, but along the reflection in the window, he could see the vague imprint over his cheek. A large bruise sat on the skin, bloated.
Shit, Julian said, touching the bottom of his eye. He groaned, drawing on the cigarette again. His discomfort vented like the smoke in the air.
Bad day?
Arendi approached from the other end of the hallway. At first she waved, but Julian didn’t see the gesture. She quickened her pace, suspecting that something was wrong. Julian usually smoked only when he needed to relax. Now, however, he looked upset and fatigued.
They had met inside the training facility, Julian still clad in his combat suit. The machine armor was thin more like an exoskeleton that fitted over the body. The use of smart fabrics provided extra speed and strength for the person wearing them. Julian could punch faster, jump farther, and he could do so without breaking a sweat.
But today, the training suit had also taken its fair share of punishment. Despite the enhancements, he carried the gear, almost weighed down by it. For some reason, the armor was practically broken. The collections of braces dangled over his back and legs and even dragged on the floor. The tendons of metal were either split or bent out of shape. He himself was also battered. The scratches over the armor plating were like giant claw marks.
He slowly turned to Arendi, revealing the full damage. She saw the wound. The top of his right cheek was swollen and purple.
I blame the Destroyer for this, he said, pointing to his face and suit.
What happened? she asked.
She gingerly touched his cheek and saw him wince.
Accident, he said. Well, maybe not.
It had been hand-to-hand combat practice. The session had lasted for nearly the whole day, and his teacher had been harsh. Secretly, he had asked the Destroyer for his assistance. Julian himself wasn’t much of a physical fighter, so he hoped he could learn a thing or two from the former Ouryan assassin. Unfortunately, he had taken on more than he could handle.
The Destroyer wiped the floor with me, Julian said under his breath. Told me it was tough love.
He chuckled at the thought, feeling the soreness in his leg and ribs. He might even have broken a minor bone or two. Arendi, however, saw little reason to laugh. With the bruise, Julian’s face was oddly uneven.
Come, she said. You should go to the med lab.
She tugged on his combat suit, grabbing the chest plate. But Julian stood his ground.
No, no. It’s OK. This isn’t so bad. At least I didn’t puncture a lung this time.
He brushed it off, letting the pink smoke from the cigarette surround him. Julian was about to light up another cigarette. But instead, he offered the blunt to Arendi instead. She plucked it from his fingers and put it between her lips.
You don’t have to push yourself so hard, she first said before taking a puff. No one expects you to become a Sentinel overnight.
Arendi was right; it would take time. Maybe a few years, or even longer. But Julian still had trouble believing it. He scratched the side of his head, skeptical.
I don’t know he replied, massaging his face and looking worried.
He had begun the training several months ago. The Alliance had chosen him to become a Sentinel a prestigious opportunity. After he performed bravely during the Great War, Julian had been seen as an ideal candidate.
If he passed, he would be the second Terran to join the ranks. If, he thought, doubtful about the prospect.
He stared out the window. They were in orbit around a planet, so he could see the stars. He knew it was an honor even to be considered for Sentinel membership, but he wondered whether it was a mistake.
I’ve never really thought about policing before. I’ve always been more of a pilot, he said. I’ve spent more of my time around humans than other alien life.
But that’s why they chose you, Arendi replied. For your perspective. A human perspective.
I guess, he said. But now I feel out of place.
Arendi couldn’t pretend it would be easy. She herself had seen the requirements. Not only were combat skills necessary, but all Sentinels had to be experts on galactic culture, along with interstellar rule and regulation.
I guess I don’t want to let anyone down, he said. The Endervars may be gone, but new threats are starting to appear.
She nodded, well aware of the reports. The Unity, the previous masters of the Ouryan Union, were risking igniting their own conflict. Apparently a civil war for control of the mighty collective was brewing. The Destroyer was among the factions leading the rebellion. Escalation seemed inevitable. The Unity was a dangerous force, one that had nearly taken over the Alliance five years ago.
Although the elusive group may once have ruled a virtual universe, the full physical infrastructure spanned the quadrant. Entire military fleets and dangerous weapons had once been in the Unity’s control. It was all the more reason to intervene.
The Destroyer is asking for assistance, Julian said. He says the Alliance can’t sit on the sidelines forever.
Do you think the council will act? she asked.
I don’t know. Everybody is sick of war. But some people are afraid. The Unity might retaliate.
For Julian, it was just a reason to worry. He felt overwhelmed thinking about all his future duties.
Still, there may be no choice, he added. Better to intervene now, before it’s too late.
Leaning forward, he placed his elbow on the window sill and again saw the bulging bruise on his face in his reflection in the glass. He pressed the broken flesh with his hand, trying to tamp it down. I just wish it were easier, he said with a yawn. I just need to get through this.
Although he was simply speaking his mind, Arendi noticed his struggle. She finished the rest of the cigarette and vented a plume of smoke.
Let me help you, she said. Perhaps the Sentinel Guard could use one more.
What do you mean? he asked.
As he pulled another cigarette from his breast pocket, Arendi snatched it away. She smiled, holding the drug in her fingers.
I’ve learned enough from the New Scientist League, she explained. Maybe it’s time I try something new.
Julian looked at her, suspicious. You’re thinking of joining?’
She tilted her head and smirked, although her decision wasn’t completely on a whim. The Alliance had also chosen her to join the select group.
You don’t have to do this, Julian said. I mean, if it’s what you want, then you should
I know. The choice is mine.
She had been thinking about this for a while. She held the cigarette between two fingers, looking for a light. Julian pulled a thumb-size cartridge out of his pocket and flicked the switch. The flame lit, igniting the cigarette in her hand.
r /> All the while, the real Arendi watched. Her current self had accessed the memory, and the simulation proceeded without a glitch. The textures and details were ever lifelike. Julian’s face glowed as his lighter flickered. Then it went out, and the smoke rose into the air.
Arendi stared at this past version of herself. The simulation had imbued the re-creation with authenticity.
For a moment, it was like viewing a mirror. Twenty-five years had passed from this moment, and still she hadn’t aged in a day. Even so, change had come in other ways. Looking at her former self, she saw the differences. She had been so quiet. So shy. She was still young back in those days and oftentimes, cautious. Perhaps too much so.
The current Arendi looked at Julian, wishing she had said more. But he was gone now. He was like the vapor in the room, warm but fleeting.
Maybe it was just a simulation. All fake. All in her imagination. But she knew the memory and all the emotions attached to it were real. It was difficult to relive even now. So she moved on. As she walked away, she winced, and the surrounding detail faded as she left the simulation.
Chapter 26
He had hoped to find a dead carcass strewn across space. His flagship, the Adamant, was ready to feast. The dreadnought lunged out of hyperspace, preparing for battle. The forward cannons, an arsenal of spires, ran hot in embers of light. A wave of drones then sprang from the hull as the fleet took form. The resulting legion marched out, searching for the potential corpse.
This was the location the point of sabotage. Three days ago, a cloaked vessel over ten miles in diameter had crossed through the area, only to explode. Twin detonations had come from key assets the elusive ship had been towing. The impact should have been severe, and he expected a crippling blow. But whatever ruin he thought he might find was nowhere in sight. The legion had spread through the area and found nothing. Not even evidence of a possible cloaking field in place. There were only scraps of debris floating within the void. From here, the trail had gone cold.
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