“Because I just bought him some time.” She gestured to the Leh’kin warrior. “I’m also carrying some highly valuable information with me. There’s a cave not too far from here, it was used as a hideout a couple of months back. There are medical supplies—”
“Human medical supplies.”
This Alana was a stubborn and exceptionally strange human; that was for sure. She held his glare, unblinking, in an uncomfortable silence until the Drahkori dropped the argument.
“Get on,” he said at last, knowing full well that Levian needed help as soon as possible. “You will have to point me in the right direction and keep us from straying off the path.”
A satisfied smile spread across the female’s face and she climbed up onto the hybrid’s back with the young warrior’s assistance, sitting down behind him and signaling for him to head east.
Along the way, Kenon made sure to keep an eye on his motion sensor. He hadn’t seen any movement for a while—at least not from anything that was worth paying any attention to. And as the human girl continued to give him directions, he found that he was beginning to trust her.
That wasn’t right . . . What was he doing?
I am not thinking about the consequences of my actions, he thought with a pang of worry.
Then again, the soldier had already revealed to him that she was holding some important information close to her, and it was obvious she wasn’t going to speak a word of it until she felt safe . . . or until he beat it out of her.
In the end, her life in exchange for the information and the help with Levian seemed like a fair trade—plus, it would be a good excuse for traveling with her if anyone were to find out.
“We’re here,” Alana said, sliding off the hybrid and landing rather clumsily. She walked over to what appeared to be a cliff wall covered in thick vines, then drew her combat knife and slashed through the creeping plants to reveal the shadowy entranceway to a cave. Reaching around to the pocket on the side of her backpack, she retrieved a small rod and activated the light on the end of it, entering the cave.
Lithe warily followed the human into the dark, carefully padding down the rocky slope. Kenon looked up to the ceiling and saw a group of small black creatures hanging there with their wings wrapped around their bodies. Some would open their beady eyes from time to time to examine the cave’s visitors; others would spread their wings and screech, perhaps in warning.
The trio entered a large, musty cavern at the end of the tunnel. Stalactites reached down from the domed ceiling, glistening. The constant patter of water echoing off stone made the place feel much larger than it actually was and gave it an air of mystery.
Looking to the human female, he saw she was standing amongst glass shards and blood spatters, dried and darkened with age. There were a couple of tables on either side of her, tipped over, their surfaces dimpled and burnt—probably used as barricades during an enemy assault.
Lined up along the back wall were supply crates, many of which appeared to have been pried open and emptied; and in the center of the cavern was a small blackened pit full of charred fibers and ashy wooden sticks.
This may once have been a hideout, but it seemed the place had been cleared of its human dwellers and ransacked by Drocain warriors. What could they have wanted with human supplies? Their tiny firearms and explosives were inferior to the Empire’s arsenal, their food was revolting, and their water was contaminated with chemicals.
Kenon climbed down from his tyliven companion’s back and watched the female soldier release a lock on one of the unopened crates. She slid the lid off and reached inside, pulled out a thick camouflage print blanket and unfurled it beside the fire pit, then grabbing a small white-and-red case, she kneeled on the ground.
“Bring him over here,” Alana said, slipping her backpack off her shoulders and tossing it aside.
Kenon turned to the tyliven and carefully lifted the Ship Commander’s body from her shoulders. The warrior was far from consciousness now, his breathing irregular and the shimmer on his skin fading. Kenon set his limp body down on the cover and realized he felt heat radiating from the fabric. Confused, he ran his hand over the blanket and was surprised to find that there were wires inside it.
A clever device . . . he thought, wishing he had something warm to wrap around himself as he settled on the cold stone floor and leaned against Lithe’s flank. The tyliven had already made herself comfortable, her forepaws tucked under her chest.
Alana popped the white medical case open and pulled out several items, setting them down on the ground to her right. Once she had gathered the necessary equipment and supplies, she pushed the case aside and grabbed a clear, plastic packet. Tearing it open, she pulled out a small white cloth, then curled her fingers around a brownish bottle and flipped the cap up. She poured a bubbly liquid substance onto the cloth, drew it over the Ship Commander’s hip; the hardened foam dissolved almost instantaneously, returning to a clear fluid form.
Kenon regarded the human with cautious interest as she worked—ready to jump in and help if necessary, and prepared to take her out if she brought harm to Levian. But it seemed he didn’t have to worry—about Levian, or about what she might do.
After fiddling with a small silver needle, she had quickly crisscrossed a metallic thread through the Ship Commander’s skin, closing the wound, then taped a compress down on top of the stitches and wrapped more of the soft, white cloth around his waist and hips to hold everything tightly in place.
Kenon had to admit, he was impressed. She had worked swiftly and without flaw, using a method that looked far more complex than that which the Drocain were taught. It certainly required much more concentration and care, and especially steady hands.
Now all they—all he—had to do was wait and see if his comrade would regain consciousness, to see if the warrior would even survive the night. It was a wonder he’d been alive when the young Drahkori had found him. Thankfully he was showing signs of improvement—breaths slow but steady, shimmer returning to his skin.
Alana looked exhausted. After packing up the medical equipment, she sat down and leaned back against her backpack, letting out a long sigh. She lifted her hands up in front of her face and stared at them with fascination. Her fingers and palms were stained blue with the Ship Commander’s blood.
Kenon couldn’t begin to understand why she seemed to be so entranced by the sight.
“Despite what you might think, Kenon, not all humans are bloodthirsty killing machines,” Alana said softly. “You and I . . . we aren’t so different. We’re fighting for the same reasons—to protect our homes and the people we care about, and to ensure our existence in the galaxy.” She paused, looked at the Ship Commander and said quietly, “I think both sides have made their fair share of mistakes over the years, too.”
At first Kenon thought she was being ridiculous, but as he pondered that a moment and considered what she’d said, he was able to find truth in her words. However, with no desire to continue on that topic, he changed the subject.
“You spoke earlier of information that could change the war,” he said. “Tell me, what exactly was that about?”
Alana lowered her hands and stared at her boots, reluctant to speak. “. . . You must have heard about the private communications unit that was transmitting from Anahk, right? It was a pretty big deal.”
Kenon nodded.
“Well, my team was sent out to investigate the Legacy of Night after it crashed. We found the device onboard, and I wanted to know why the stupid thing was so damn special, so I turned it on and listened to the most recent recording on it. Most of what was on there was a mess, white noise and such, but what I did hear was . . . worrying,” she explained. “There were two speakers on the channel. One was a Digred, and the other, as it turns out, was the former leader of my team—Lieutenant Brandt, who we thought had been killed.
“They spoke of this thing called the ‘Calypsis Project’, rambled on about how it was coming together just as the ‘
seekers’ had planned. They said if all goes well, they might finally have their way with the war. Then Brandt asked when the next shipment of weapons was coming in from the Empire . . .
“And you know, I’ve heard rumors about the comms unit in the past, but I thought they were stories made up to scare curious people like me away from all the classified Bureau stuff. I’ve heard my teammates talk about soldiers who managed to decode some of the encrypted transmissions, but before anyone could get anything out of any of them . . . bang, dead. They committed suicide.
“I don’t know what it was that frightened them all so badly—damaged them to the point where the only way out was to take their own lives. I know I only listened to one recording, but it’s been bothering me because if the little bit I heard was enough to make me worry, then what the hell did they hear?” the soldier rested her chin on the back of her wrist and blinked tiredly. “. . . If any of that was confusing, I’m sorry. I can’t remember everything. All I know right now is that humanity and the Drocain have got some super-secret alliance and they’re working on a top-secret project someplace, god knows where.”
An alliance between the Drocain and the humans? How many were involved? A few hundred, several thousand? Was all of this going on behind the back of each faction’s leader? And a Digred conversing with a human? A top secret project?
It was madness! Kenon didn’t know if he could believe it. The news had come from a human soldier after all . . .
A soldier who might have saved Levian’s life.
The memory of a small dim room hidden down in the underground railway tunnels on Anahk returned to him. He remembered the two soldiers sitting cold and lifeless in their seats. One had been holding the communications unit in his lap; his comrade, a firearm.
They chose to end their lives, he realized. They must have been listening to the transmissions—ongoing at the time. That would explain why the device’s signal had been picked up by the Empire . . . but where had the rusty old box come from in the first place?
“Do you still have the device?” Kenon asked quickly.
Alana was surprised by the urgency in his tone. “I-I do, but it isn’t functional anymore. It got thrown around a lot when we were attacked in the woods.”
“That is not my concern. Let me see it.” He needed to know if it was in fact the same communications unit. The Royal Empire had been searching for it, and clearly the humans had as well. Perhaps it could still be repaired, or, at the very least, have its secrets extracted.
Alana grabbed her backpack and unzipped it, sliding the communications device out carefully. She then handed it to the young warrior and he examined it closely.
One side of the box was cracked open, and it looked like some animal had ripped the top off. The rest of the metal casing was in terrible shape as well, dented and scratched, and a tangle of shredded, colorful wires hung out uselessly.
It was, without a doubt, the same device that he and his squad had retrieved from that dark room. And the human female was right, it was not in working condition and it was far beyond repair. There would be no hope of collecting the recorded transmissions stored inside now.
“I will try to gather more information on the matter of this ‘Calypsis Project’,” Kenon told her, though that was easier said than done when it could not be known that he’d conversed with a human. The Empire would have his head. “As for now, I suggest you be on your way. The sun will rise in a couple of hours and your friend will come looking for you.”
Alana gave a swift nod and then stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “When I get back to the Hornet’s Nest I’ll talk to my stepfather and see if he can help me out with this. If either of us hears anything new, how do we contact each other?”
“We do not. It is far too dangerous. If we happen to meet again, then that is when we will share.”
“And what if one of us gets killed before then? Or what if we just never see each other again? Then what do we do?”
“We keep searching for clues and information. If we do not make contact, then we will not speak. It is simple,” Kenon said.
“Ugh. Fine.”
“And you are to speak to no one of this . . . this encounter. No one can know we met without exchanging gunfire.”
“You can’t order me around,” the soldier smirked. “Anyway, who knows what could happen in the next few days. There could be another alliance well underway.” She took the broken communications device from the warrior and tucked it under her arm, then turned on her flashlight and made her way out of the cavern, leaving Kenon to sit in silence, tail flicking with irritation as her final words echoed in his mind.
Was she seriously suggesting the possibility of a secondary alliance coming together between the Drocain Empire and the United Nations Planetary Defense? What foolishness. Did she honestly think that could happen?
. . . Is it really such an absurd idea?
There were many warriors who viewed humanity as a race of filthy, disgusting pests that could be removed from the galaxy with no repercussions, and then there were those whose opinions were seen as improper and offensive. They were the ones who were fascinated by humans, who admired them for a number of their clever tactics.
Kenon liked to think he was one of those warriors. However, unlike them, he refrained from voicing his opinion because he had witnessed quite a number of spats over the subject—mainly between the Digred and the Jahoran. None of those debates had ended well.
0640 Hours, December 02, 2438 (Earth Calendar) / Marshlands, near Terrak Mountain Range, planet Calypsis
The sporadic pops of human gunfire jolted Kenon from his slumber. He sat up promptly, turned his head to the entrance of the cave and peered over Lithe’s shoulder; blinked to ensure his vision wasn’t tricking him.
Silhouetted against the morning light were not the tiny human figures he’d been expecting to see, but rather the shapes of two very familiar Drocain warriors—Captain Phero Jherkin and Major Suro Katspara. They had taken cover inside the cave’s open maw and were firing into the trees with UNPD weapons.
They were under attack.
The Drahkori scrambled to his feet and snapped out his repeater, dashed up the slope and skidded into place between the two warriors. Counting at least eleven human soldiers moving in on their position, he took aim on one who’d ducked behind a fallen tree and opened fire.
The bursts caught the man’s legs and he toppled over, screaming wildly as the flesh peeled away from his skeleton.
“Valinquint? What are you doing here?” Suro hissed as he leaned sideways to dodge a shot from a sniper rifle.
Phero took out the shooter in the tree with a pulse round from his own marksman rifle. The soldier dropped from his perch and hit the ground hard. If the bullet piercing his body hadn’t killed him, then the fall most definitely had.
“I could ask you the same.” Kenon took cover behind the crest of the slope when his shields broke. “I’ve been tending to Levian’s injuries.” Covering the end of the repeater’s barrel with his palm, he held down the trigger.
This was a technique Phero had taught him when he was still in training. If he held like this for sixty seconds, the crytal would build up and boil inside, and when he finally removed his hand, the shot fired would act as an explosive—detonating on impact. It would be fatal to anyone standing within three feet of the blast.
“He is alive?” Phero was surprised to hear the news. He pulled a grenade from the clip on his thigh guard, tossed it high in the air, and watched it land four meters away. It exploded, reducing the humans closest to it to molten globs of flesh and bone.
“Barely, Ala—“ Kenon cut himself short, shaking his head. He had nearly spoken the name of the human female. “I treated him with the medical equipment left behind in this cave. Unfortunately, human supplies were all I could find.”
“You disgust me,” Suro spat.
“Levian would not have survived if I had left his wounds untended! Would you rather he
were dead?” Kenon countered sharply, to which Suro muttered crossly.
The heat radiating from the repeater was beginning to sting the young warrior’s palm. As soon as his shields had recharged, he rose from cover and, withdrawing his hand from the barrel, he released the trigger. A white-hot ball of liquid burst out and hit the ground several meters into the trees, wiping out six soldiers.
Phero took out the last soldier in sight and the marshland fell quiet. No motion appeared on their sensors, and when Phero was certain all humans in the area had been eradicated, he slung his small rifle over his shoulder and turned to Kenon.
“Take us to the Ship Commander at once,” he ordered.
When they entered the cavern, Lithe was already standing overtop the unconscious Leh’kin warrior, guarding him as she growled at the intruders, warning them to keep their distance. At the command of the Drahkori, she moved away and sat down.
Suro halted and stared at Lithe, a look of repulsion on his face. “What is that?” he hissed.
“A tyliven,” Kenon said. “A creature of my homeworld, the offspring of the eihler and reighe, and an extremely loyal one at that. Her name is Lithe—not that you care.”
“You named the beast?”
“The connection between her and I is not one you would understand.” That was not entirely true. With some explanation, the Digred likely would have understood fully—but Kenon was in no mood to explain, and judging by his reaction when he first saw the hybrid, Suro probably wouldn’t have cared to listen.
“Where was he wounded?” Phero asked, crouching down by the Ship Commander’s side.
Kenon joined the Khael’hin and pulled back the blue warrior’s scarlet robes, revealing the bandages that held a compress securely to his hip.
“That is rather tidy work considering the use of human supplies, don’t you think?” Suro murmured with suspicion.
Phero grunted and recoiled, shaking his head from side to side. “This compress has the stench of humans all over it. I shall redress the wound immediately,” he said. Before he could touch the bandages, an armored hand reached up and gripped his arm.
The Calypsis Project Boxed Set (Books 1-2 - The Echo-Alpha Duology) Page 9