The Calypsis Project Boxed Set (Books 1-2 - The Echo-Alpha Duology)

by Brittany M. Willows

  Her head bobbed eagerly. “It was private job. Bounty hunters usually pick listings off the board, but this one was only handed out to a few groups.”

  “What were you hunting for?”

  “I don’t know, I was just hired to track an energy signature.”

  “Pioneer’s beacon?”

  “No, the beacon was too weak. We didn’t even realize we were looking for a shuttle until it was within view. This was . . . something else. It was like watching a fleet’s-worth of computer systems all communicating with each other at once, except the signal was organic.”

  “What do you mean, organic?” Jenkinson asked.

  “It didn’t belong to a machine.”

  “Who the hell issued the bounty?”

  Matthews dried her cheeks with a sleeve. “An agent from the Bureau,” she said. “I think she was with Sector Zero. Her name was Gretchen. Gretchen Stedman.”

  Chapter

  ———TEN———

  1634 Hours, September 08, 2442 (Earth Calendar) / Crosswire Valley, planet Calypsis, Sol System

  Trees bowed under the merciless winds that whipped across the glade. Their branches creaked and groaned, threatening to break loose from the cliff and crush the convoy parked at the bottom.

  Fourteen black-clad men and women had gathered in Crosswire Valley. Behind them, a fleet of armored SUVs reflected the sun’s feeble attempt to penetrate the dense clouds above. Each vehicle’s hood carried an ornament that depicted six dark pillars of varying heights rising above a silver globe—the insignia of the Bureau of Scientific Investigations.

  At the head of the party stood Special Agent Leonard O’Connor—the former manager of the Bureau’s most secretive division: Sector 0. Beads of sweat trickled down his neck, soaking the collar of his dress shirt.

  It was an unusually hot day for September on Calypsis, and the lukewarm gusts rolling up from the south did little to alleviate the humidity.

  Surface temperatures had been on the rise ever since the Nephera set the weapon to standby status, and switching it back to neutral hadn’t solved the problem. But the heat was the least of their problems. Violent earthquakes had been wreaking havoc across the globe for months—razing cities, splitting mountains. It was clear that whatever was going on beneath the crust had destabilized the planet.

  “He’s late,” said the woman at O’Connor’s side.

  Gretchen Stedman—Sector 0’s current manager. Her hair was pinned flat to keep it from lashing across her face, and the pencil skirt she wore hugged her thighs so tight she could hardly move in the damned thing. Apart from the slight flutter of her lapels, she appeared impervious to the wind.

  O’Connor smirked. An hour into the wait and she was already getting fidgety. “If you’re going to operate under the High Lord’s command, you’d better get used to it. He’s always late.”

  “Then why did you bring me here twenty minutes early?”

  “Just in case he decided to show on time. I’ll say this now, Gretchen, and I’ll only say it once: If you ever turn up after him, there will be hell to pay. He doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

  Stedman huffed. “Great. Always a pleasure dealing with psychopaths, Leonard.”

  “Respect the label. After all, they’re the only ones who can remind us just how sane we are.”

  A grating noise like knives on a sharpening stone fell over the valley. Scarlet lights winked in the sky. And from the clouds, a warship descended. Massive. Daunting. Jagged fins jutted from the vessel’s tarnished hull and fanned out towards the rear.

  The droning sound stopped when it settled thirty meters away. An access ramp rolled out from a hatch on the ship’s underside, its toothed edge biting into the lush grass, and two figures emerged. As they approached the convoy, their helmets retracted to reveal a set of strikingly flat faces.

  On the right was the Nepheran High Lord, Sol D’Vare, whose angular features were etched with deep scars and wrinkles. If he had ever actually smiled in his life, the expression had failed to leave any appreciable trace. For as long as Agent O’Connor had known him, he’d had an appropriately cruel look plastered on his face.

  Beside him was his twin sister: a huntress named E’ly Korva. Her bronze skin gave way to a spiraling formation of flesh and bone that extended from her skull like some kind of grisly crown. Overall, she appeared more suited to the leadership role. She was always cool and composed—unlike her brother, who was known to fly into a fit of rage unprovoked.

  At least it made it easy to tell which of them the lunatic was.

  O’Connor strode forth to greet them. Agent Stedman followed more slowly, her lips a light pink seam. Her reluctance was understandable. Whether it be the first time or the hundredth, meeting the Nepheran leaders in person was always a bit nerve-wracking. But initial impressions were important.

  He hoped she would make a good one.

  Both parties halted at the halfway point. Stedman offered her hand to the aliens and introduced herself. “Special Agent Gretchen Stedman of the Bureau of Scientific Investigations. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  E’ly snubbed the gesture. “This is the one you have tasked with locating the key?” she asked O’Connor, seemingly unimpressed by his partner.

  “Yes.” He motioned for Stedman to lower her arm. While a handshake would be graciously accepted by most, the Nephera didn’t take kindly to physical contact with human beings. In hindsight, he probably should have mentioned that earlier—especially since any of her wrongdoings would reflect badly on him. “And you will be glad to hear the energy spike you alerted us to was indeed indicative of the key’s return.”

  “Of course it was.” Sol swept his tattered cape over the grass. He jerked his head toward the convoy and said, “Show me.”

  O’Connor led them across the valley to his SUV. The trunk’s double doors swung open at the press of a button, revealing the surveillance system inside. A large screen spanned the width of the rear seats, flanked by two smaller monitors. Each one displayed a unique feed from the freighter, Wrangler.

  And each feed had captured Kenon Valinquint aboard the vessel.

  Sol’s pupils dilated at the sight of his prize. Having searched for centuries only to lose the key in an arrogant show of power, the Calypsis Project had been put on hold indefinitely. Now that Valinquint had returned, however, they could move forward unhindered.

  Soon, all of O’Connor’s hard work would pay off. In the coming days, the High Lord would fulfill his promise. The galaxy would be purged of its Drocain inhabitants. No longer would mankind squander their lives in fear, for they could travel the stars without worry.

  After decades of war, there would be peace.

  “Where is the key now?” E’ly asked.

  Stedman threw O’Connor a look that told of bad news to come, and he stifled the urge snap at her. When he picked her up from the docking station three hours ago, she said everything had gone according to plan.

  Was that a lie? Did she lose track of the Drahkori, or had she neglected to gather that information thinking the issue of his whereabouts wouldn’t come up?

  Oh, Gretchen, you are treading on some awfully thin ice.

  She pushed her horn-rimmed glasses higher on her nose. “We had a minor setback. A UNPD dropship beat us to the scene. They took off with Valinquint and the others before my team could recover him.”

  The High Lord rounded on her, bony fingers curled into fists. “He was within our grasp,” he hissed. “How could you let him escape?”

  Stedman flinched but stood her ground. “He hasn’t escaped. We know exactly where the dropship is going,” she said. “Echo Team’s next mission has them pegged for Thei’legh. If you rally your armies now, you should be able to catch them.”

  E’ly took her brother’s shoulder and whispered in his ear, urging him to relax. When he withdrew, she stooped low in front of Stedman as if speaking to a child. “Are you certain of this?” she asked.

  “Pos
itive. I’ve had an agent tracking their movements for months, and I can assure you, he is very reliable.”

  In truth, this agent she spoke of was not an agent at all.

  LCN7744—more commonly known as Lincoln—was an artificial intelligence construct with over forty years of service in the Bureau. Though ancient by AI standards, he never failed to prove his worth. He was still just as sharp as his first iteration.

  In any case, that answer seemed to put E’ly’s concerns at rest. She turned to her brother and said, “Then let us pay a visit to the Leh’kin.”

  Chapter

  ———ELEVEN———

  1800 Hours, September 09, 2442 (Earth Calendar) / Caenlegh Castle, Kingdom of Oe’Nhervon, planet Thei’legh, Phoenix System

  The first amber rays of dawn were just beginning to appear when Levian ‘Nher strolled onto the balcony outside his study. There was a dampness in the air. Water droplets trickled down the ivy that scaled the castle towers, pooling at the base of the walls and nurturing colonies of yellow moss.

  He leaned on the balustrade, the metal cool beneath his palms, and inhaled deeply. A refreshing blend of scents rolled off the Sea of Ocel—a somewhat sweet combination of brine and seaweed.

  The sea’s white-capped waves lapped at the rocky shore beyond Alqui’s high-rising structures, growing larger and more fierce as night made its slow transition to day. Though frivolous in the grand scheme of things, this was the sight Levian often found himself longing for on extended voyages away from home.

  Few opportunities to visit arose during his term in the Drocain Royal Empire. The day he pledged allegiance to the queen, they sent him on a mission halfway across the galaxy. Since then, his visits had only become fewer and farther between. Even after his departure from the Empire, recent events had kept him tied to human-controlled space. But at last, his wait was over.

  He was home.

  A trill sound drew Levian’s attention. He withdrew from the balcony and headed back inside the sun-bathed study. A notification pulsated in the corner of a glass pane embedded in his desk—an incoming transmission from the UNPD frigate Houston.

  He tapped the glowing symbol and sat as the holographic display materialized above the desk’s surface. It shone unsteadily for a few moments, then Admiral Anderson’s image filled the screen. Anahk’s southern hemisphere peeked over the bottom edge of the window behind him.

  “Greetings, Admiral,” Levian said, straightening in his chair to make himself appear more awake than he really was.

  “Commander.” Anderson dipped his head respectfully. “I wanted to congratulate you. Taking down the Drocain High City is no small feat, and doing it alone is almost inconceivable. Just when I thought we’d lost, you’ve given my people hope.” He paused, a troubled expression on his face. “But . . . I digress. The reason I’m calling is because we fear the Nephera may be on their way to Thei’legh.”

  Levian’s mind jumped to the alert. The Leh’kin had always held their own against mankind and even managed to withstand attacks from the Royal Empire in more recent years. But against the Nephera? The odds were not in their favor. “The Nephera retreated to the far rim after the Battle of Dyre,” he said. “They have been in hiding for nearly three years. What makes you think they would come out now?”

  “I received a report from Lieutenant Jenkinson this morning. I sent his team on a mission in Theta Verra to recover a stolen cargo freighter. Instead, they found Pioneer.”

  “The shuttle?”

  “Along with Valinquint, Knoble, and Doctor Chambers—all of whom are very much alive.”

  Impossible . . .

  Levian leaned forward on the arm of his chair, a mixture of astonishment and intrigue putting him at a loss for words. He never expected to hear those names again—not associated with the living, anyway. “How can this be?”

  “It’s a goddamn miracle if you ask me. As much as I’d like to celebrate, the resurgence of the key means the Nephera will return, and we have to take measures to defend ourselves when they do.” Anderson looked to someone off-screen, mouthed a quick thanks to them, then turned back to the camera. “Echo Team will be en route shortly. I’ll have my fleet on standby in case the Nephera decide to show up. Don’t hesitate to call if you require assistance.”

  “I am grateful for the offer, Admiral. Truly. But let us hope it does not come to that.”

  “Agreed. Good luck, Commander.”

  The screen shrank to a single thread of light and vanished.

  Levian reclined in his seat. How was he supposed to approach his father with this information? Neither he nor the court would instigate defense protocols if Levian couldn’t provide a reason for the Nephera to attack.

  At the gentle tap of claws on the floor, Levian looked up and saw his wife standing in the bedroom doorway, her teal skin aglow in the morning light.

  Vahn Ejon, beautiful as she was fierce. Despite his father’s constant lectures on the importance of marrying a female of royal blood, Levian had bound his soul to this fieldworker from the outlying city of Imahd. Never once did he regret that decision. She was the light of his life, a beacon in his darkest days. From the moment he first laid eyes on her, he was smitten.

  “What are you doing up at this hour?” Vahn asked, regarding her husband with concern. She crossed the room and laid a hand upon his shoulder. “When was the last time you slept?”

  Levian grunted. “Sleep eludes me.” He took her delicate fingers in his grasp, delighting in the warmth radiating from her palm. Oh, what he would give to spend more time with her—to simply hold her without worry of what tomorrow might bring. Even now, as she stood mere inches from him, he found himself yearning for her.

  “You must rest,” she insisted. “You need your strength.”

  I know, he thought. There was no denying that. Running on adrenaline for the past thirty-two hours had left him fatigued. While it was ill-advised to continue operating in this condition, especially with the possibility of battle on the horizon, there was no avoiding it.

  War did not allow for such comforts.

  “Should the opportunity arise, I will gladly take advantage of it,” he said, rising from the desk. “Until then, my love, there is work to be done, and I am afraid I must request your presence in the war room.”

  “Has something happened?”

  “Not yet, but we must remain vigilant. Now get dressed. Wake my mother and father and meet me there in half an hour.”

  A three-dimensional representation of Alqui materialized above the elliptical display table spanning the width of the war room. Caenlegh Castle stood in the center of the projection, towering over the lesser structures that formed the city’s four great rings. The innermost ring was occupied by Alqui’s upper-class citizens, while the three outer rings were comprised of various marketplaces and middle-class residential estates.

  King Amalan and Queen Orlyn joined Levian and Vahn on one side of the long table, while knights crowded in beside the councilors on the other. Levian’s children, Lenque and Cyra, were among the assembled, as was Calephus Pyren.

  “You must be wondering why I have gathered you all here this morning, and I do not intend to keep you waiting.” Levian stepped up to the table. “Less than an hour ago, I received word from the human ambassador. He believes the Nephera may be planning to attack Thei’legh, and so we must prepare accordingly.”

  Orlyn gasped and clutched her husband’s arm. In the seconds it took for the words to sink in, her brain had probably flipped through a dozen worst-case scenarios.

  “Fear not, Your Highness. We are well equipped to defend ourselves,” Calephus reassured her. “I shall mobilize my fleet in orbit. Should any ships break through our lines, the anti-air defenses will take care of them. It might also be wise to warn neighboring kingdoms, to see what help we can garner from them.”

  “But I do not understand. The Nephera have never threatened our homeworld before. Why now?”

  Levian cast his gaze to th
e floor. No more secrets. If his people went into battle ignorant of the enemy’s motive, how could he expect them to properly defend their borders? It was high time for the truth to come out. He braced himself for the imminent uproar and said, “They are looking for their key.”

  The councilors gaped at him. Lenque and Cyra exchanged a glance with their mother, and the rest of the knights blinked in confusion—except for Calephus, who picked at the spikes on his gauntlets in awkward silence. He had known the truth since the Battle of Dyre concluded.

  Amalan growled. “Their what?”

  Levian met his father’s glare. “There are things I have not shared—not only to protect the alliance, but to ensure the safety of our kingdom.” He looked over the assembled. “What I am about to tell you is highly confidential and must not leave this room under any circumstances. Is that clear?”

  Chapter

  ———TWELVE———

  1800 Hours, September 09, 2442 (Earth Calendar) / Delta Station, Schwarzschild System, in orbit over Skálholt

  Delta Station’s mess hall buzzed with activity. As one of the UNPD’s six major rest stops, its purpose was to provide soldiers a brief reprieve from the frontline turmoil.

  Music played over the station speakers. There here was laughter all around. A rich variety of aromas mingled in the air: hot spices and sweet sauce, roasted chicken and freshly baked bread—scents that created a much-desired sense of home and normalcy.

  It was the perfect recipe for a pleasant atmosphere.

  “To hell and back!” an enthusiastic cry perforated the noisy chatter, and Lieutenant Knoble didn’t even need to see the man’s voice to know who had spoken. He would recognize that chipper tone anywhere.

  Corporal John Sevadi hopped up from a table a little ways down the aisle and weaved through the crowds to greet his former leader.