by Anna Carven
Impatience leads to mistakes, and I can’t afford mistakes. I must win at all costs.
I do not know what orders this assassin has been given regarding Abbey and my child, but I will not let him through.
I push him back, sparks flying as our blades clash. Burning pain on my left cheek tells me he’s grazed me there. In exchange, I slash his left arm.
The difference is that I heal; he doesn’t.
I need to end this soon. I need to get back to Abbey.
I lunge forward again, but my blade meets steel as he resists. His expression is hidden behind that unnerving blank mask, and I can’t read his eyes.
An unreadable opponent is far more difficult to fight than one who gives away his movements through his facial expressions.
I need an opening.
There is a way to trap him. It’s going to fucking hurt, and there is a very, very small chance I might die, but I need to end this, now.
I make a wild stab with both swords, and in doing so, I leave my abdomen open to attack.
He moves as I’d expected, plunging his right blade into my stomach. I grunt, the pain almost crippling. I push it from my mind as his left blade enters my belly at an angle.
At the same time, I slam my left blade upwards. It goes through his ribcage and into his chest. He gasps and staggers backwards, black blood erupting from beneath his mask.
He pulls the mask off, tossing it aside. Blood streams from his mouth.
I step forward, fighting through the pain. As he staggers back, I slice through his left arm at the shoulder. He grunts as his severed arm falls into the dust.
That’s all. He doesn’t scream; doesn’t cry out.
His expression doesn’t change. It’s cold and blank.
He falls to his knees, blood spurting from his shoulder. It splatters across the ground, contrasting viciously with the red desert sand.
I pull both of his blades out of my body, tossing them aside as the nanites go to work, patching up my flesh, stabilizing blood vessels and mending connective tissue.
My injuries are massive. I drop to my knees with the sheer pain of it, withdrawing my exo-armor from the surface of my skin. I can’t afford to sustain it when I’m injured to this extent.
My vision is blurring. My face is bare now, the harsh sunlight burning my eyes. Right now, I can’t even summon enough energy to protect my eyes.
I gasp as my flesh knits together. The skin above remains raw and red, but the underlying muscle has been repaired and my blood vessels and organs have been reconstructed.
I hear a clatter and realize the assassin has pulled my sword out of his chest.
With great effort, I rise to my feet and walk over to him.
Shielding my eyes with my hand, I stare down at him. He’s still alive. Somehow, the bleeding has stopped. Blank obsidian eyes look back up at me. I know he can’t see me; he can only sense me with his highly developed ka’qui.
He’s similar in appearance to the Silent One I killed yesterday, with his pale grey-silver almost translucent skin, dark hair that is intricately braided and sightless black eyes.
He makes a strangled sound of fury. He tries to move, but his injuries are too great.
I clench my fist, imagining my hand clamping tightly around his neck, squeezing the remaining life out of him.
I should kill him.
“Do you want to live, wretch?” I ask softly. Chances are, he’s going to die anyway, regardless of what I do.
“A-argh,” he grunts, unable to give voice to his thoughts. Fighting the mindbond, he nods his head slightly.
“Use your ka’qui or anava or whatever it is to try and survive,” I tell him. With a missing arm and a wound that has likely pierced his heart, he’s not going anywhere. “If you survive, I may have use for you.” I squat down beside him, grabbing his hair and yanking his head back so I can whisper in his ear. “If you survive, I will find a way to break your mindbond, assassin. And when you break the mindbond, I will give you a new arm, and then you will serve me. Think on that as Kaiin wraps his cold hands around your heart and tries to drag you to the pits of hell and decide what you want to do.”
I drop him and rise, leaving him half bleeding to death in the red sand.
I walk back towards the black containers, every step causing me agony.
I ignore the pain and start to run, half-blinded, waves of thick white smoke surrounding me, making me cough.
I reach the container where I’ve hidden Abbey, my heart pounding with pure, naked fear.
I have never felt fear like this before. The thought of losing her terrifies me.
I reach container nine. The distant sounds of battle reach my ears, telling me my soldiers have not yet managed to suppress the Ifkin.
As I walk around to the entrance of the container, my heart stops cold.
My world plummets away.
The door is open.
She is gone.
There is a body on the floor of the container; a dead Human, his chest torn out by the impact of a plasma shot. Abbey is nowhere to be found.
A silver glint draws my attention. Her link band is on the ground, a small red light flashing. As I pick it up, rage, fury, despair and fear rush through me in a wild torrent. I scream, punching the side of the container with my bare hand, the uncovered bones of my fingers shattering as they impact with the hard Callidum surface.
I vow to the dark god Kaiin that whoever is responsible for this is going to die.
I must find Abbey, and I must have her and my child back, safe and alive.
Anyone who stands in my way will die.
And if, for whatever reason, my precious mate and her child aren’t returned to me, those responsible are going to wish they had been sent to hell.
What I will do to them will be far, far worse than any torture from God of Darkness himself.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Tarak
Over fifty Ifkin lie dead, the ground stained violet with their blood. Their pale, limp bodies start to bloat as the sun rises in the sky, and small, black flying insects swarm around them.
The stench is terrible.
I find my three soldiers scouring the battlefield as the smoke disperses. There is no trace of Abbey.
Zyara is sprinting across the ground, a medic-kit in her hand. She’s changed into combat-gear. “What happened? Where’s Abbey?”
“She’s gone,” I say, a little surprised at how cold my voice sounds. I should be shaking with rage, but at least for now, I’m able to keep my anger tightly leashed. “Can your equipment find her trace through the harmony star?”
“Just a moment.” Zyara opens her kit and pulls out a monitoring device. A holoscreen appears, filled with data. “Its range is short. The signal won’t last long, but they’re heading south. The velocity of movement tells me they’re in a flyer of some sort.”
I turn to my soldiers. “Did any of the Ifkin survive?”
“We kept two alive,” Jeral replies.
“Restrain them for questioning later. I want to know who sent them, and how they found us. Are the rest of the First Division on their way?”
“Yeah. They’re crossing the ocean on a small stealth flyer. They will arrive shortly.”
“Good.”
“Reinforcements are also coming from Silence. The Humans have raised concerns, but Commander Ikriss told the Federation’s representative what happened. He’s warned that any interference will result in retaliation from us.”
“Open comm.” I activate my communication device. “Get me Kazharan.” The Prince comes online.
“What’s happening, General? There are reports of unauthorized Kordolian craft entering the atmosphere, and the Xargek containment effort has been abandoned. Have you recalled the First Division?”
“We’ve been attacked,” I tell him. “Ifkin and Imperial assassins. This has the Empire written all over it. I’m going to deal with it, but you need to use all your skills to calm, placate and nullify
the Humans. Tell them not to do anything stupid or get in the way. If they value their own lives and the lives of their people, they will not interfere. At this point, I will consider anyone who gets in my way an enemy.”
“I’ll do that.” There’s no argument from him. “Is Abbey safe?”
“No.”
“Oh.” He pauses as he registers the full implications of my answer. “You’re going to get her back, aren’t you?”
“Pray that I do, Xalikian.”
I terminate the comm.
“Lodan, is the old woman safe?”
“Found her shooting a bunch of Ifkin with that old-fashioned weapon of hers. She killed four of them, and now she’s holed herself up in the basement of the main house.”
“Tell the reinforcements to check on her when they arrive.” I point towards Darkshadow. “Retrieve extra weapons from crate six and get onboard. We need to follow that signal before it dies.”
“Sir!” The three soldiers are drenched in the blood of their enemies, but they show no signs of fatigue. Their nano-armor will be slowly absorbing the blood, making use of all available energy to retain equilibrium.
Abbey’s silver link-band is wrapped around my wrist, the tiny red light still blinking.
I press the main button, just below the holoscreen unit.
“One new recording,” it says, in an artificial voice. “Do you wish to initiate playback?”
“Yes,” I say, with a rising sense of dread.
Smoke-obscured images play back to me, along with snippets of distorted sound.
I see Abbey fighting, fiercely defiant, discharging the plasma gun, telling her attackers to back off, her arms curling protectively around her belly as she tries to shield our child from harm.
Every move against her sends my anger spiraling higher and higher, until I fear I will lose control.
In the old days, I would have simply killed everyone, but that isn’t an option right now. Two lives that are immensely precious to me, more valuable than life itself, hang in the balance, and I have to play this right, to ensure they are not put at risk.
I can’t afford to give in to my rage just yet. First, I have to find them.
Slowly, I force my thoughts back into focus, retracting my claws, which have instinctively slid out, tearing the flesh of my palms.
With great effort, I suppress my anger. I need to concentrate on getting her back. I need her. Otherwise, my whole world will collapse.
Abbey
I open my eyes, and it takes a while for the world to snap back into focus.
To my intense relief, the little one moves inside me. She’s okay, and that’s all that matters.
Above me is a white ceiling, bathed in bright, artificial light. I’m no longer wearing my bathrobe and utility shoes; instead, I’m clothed in a white hospital gown.
I try to move, but something is holding my wrists and ankles down.
Great. Not this again. I let out a low sound of frustration. I thought only Kordolians did this kind of stuff, but it seems the Humans are in on it now as well.
At least my head is free. I turn my head slowly and realize I’m in a small, windowless room of sorts. And there’s a rushing sound all around me. It sounds as if I’m onboard a flyer. The white interior and the inferior sound-dampening technology tells me this is a Human craft. If I’d been captured by Kordolians, it would be silent and dark in here.
“Miss Kendricks.” A familiar voice reaches my ears. I blink.
“Doctor?”
Doctor Asher rises from her seat and walks to my side, standing over me.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Lorelei?” I glare at her, hatred seeping into my voice. “Are you mad?”
The doctor shakes her head, her perfect blond ponytail swaying slightly. “I offered you an easier way to do this, but you didn’t want to co-operate. So we have to resort to this.”
“This is illegal on so many levels,” I growl. “Assault, abduction, unlawful detainment. Do you really think you’re going to get away with this?”
She leans in, glancing over my body. “What makes you think any of this is going to come to light? If that were the case, then you’d be getting done for murder.” She raises her eyebrows. “Thirty-four weeks pregnant, and you shoot one of our operatives dead? That’s impressive, Miss Kendricks.”
“You know he’ll come for me, right?”
Lorelei raises an eyebrow. “You mean that alien lover of yours? The baby’s daddy?” There’s no trace of fear in her voice. “He won’t be able to find us. Not where we’re going. No-one can.”
“You don’t know Tarak.” I laugh derisively. “You think you can hide from him? He will hunt you down and he will kill you. Even I won’t be able to stop him. Not after what you’ve done.”
Lorelei’s face seems way too composed. Her features are an immovable mask of impeccable make-up. “We know all about your Kordolian lover, Miss Kendricks. He’s an impressive specimen. I have to applaud you on your evolutionary instincts. If there ever was an alpha male to choose to have offspring with, he’s the one. But no matter what he’s capable of, he still won’t be able to find us.”
“You know he’ll go to war with Earth if you don’t release me. Don’t you care about that?”
“SynCorp always does well in wartime,” she shrugs. “War means business, contracts, increased demand.”
“Not if there’s no fucking planet left to do business on,” I snap. Lorelei ignores me, walking over to a small metal table. She picks up a syringe loaded with some sort of clear fluid. “This is a sedative,” she says. “I can’t afford for you to be agitated and restless right now, especially where we’re going. Just calm down and this will go a lot easier for you. Don’t worry. It’s not harmful to the fetus. We won’t do anything to harm the baby.”
“Calm down my ass,” I growl, straining against my bonds, even though I know it’s useless. “You are such a dead woman, Lorelei.”
“I don’t think so,” she says calmly, as the needle slides into my thigh. “He doesn’t even know who took you. He’s probably about to go to war with the Ifkin.”
“No, he will come for me,” I say, with utter conviction in my voice. It’s the truth, and I believe it beyond a shadow of a doubt.
The sedative starts to take hold, and once again, my world fades to black.
Tarak
The signal from the harmony star has disappeared, but Zyara has been able to map out its general direction. We’re flying over the desert in Darkshadow, following its last known location.
“Their path tracks towards the ocean,” she informs me, pointing to her holoscreen. “The signal was lost right about here.”
I curse. The captors I saw in the footage were Human. It enrages me that out of all our enemies, it’s the pathetic Humans who have dared to steal Abbey right from under my nose. I underestimated them, thinking the real threat would come from outside Earth, and now I’m paying the price.
I slide into a seat behind the control panel and bring up a holo-link to Silence. “Get me the tech division.”
Moments later, a thin Kordolian with long, disheveled hair and multiple piercings in his ears appears on my holoscreen. He sits bolt upright in his chair in surprise. “G-general Akkadian!” He offers me an awkward salute. “How can I help you, Sir?”
I rarely talk to the tech specialists directly. Most of the requisitioning is done by my commanders, so it must come as a surprise that I’m directly patching through.
“What is your name, Tech?”
“Tech Engineer Yuris, Sir.”
“Did you receive my message capsule?”
He straightens. “We did, Sir. The drone inside was fairly easy to dismantle and reassemble. It’s simple Human technology; a recording device, nothing more. There was footage of yourself and lady Abbey stored on it, but nothing else. We’ve backed up the footage and deleted the original. I can discard it all if you’d like.”
“That’s not important r
ight now, Tech. Were you able to trace its origins?”
“Unfortunately, its Earth signal doesn’t reach us in high orbit. It effectively has no connectivity up here.”
“I need to know where that device came from, Yuris. It’s small enough to eject back into Earth’s atmosphere in a high-speed re-entry device. Put a Kordolian trace on it. Once it’s inside Earth’s atmosphere, it should be within transmitting range again. Once it picks up a signal, you can track it.”
“Th- that makes sense, Sir. I’ll get onto it right away.” Yuris bows.
“Report back to me once you find the origin. I expect this to be done within the next half-phase.”
“Understood, Sir.”
I don’t know if that surveillance device is linked to Abbey’s capture, but it’s all we have right now. I have to chase every lead possible and I have to do it fast, before they can wipe the trail clean.
I look down at her link-band, which is strapped around my wrist. This Human communication device has long been a source of irritation to me, with its incessant beeping and announcements and seemingly useless, mindless functions.
But it seems sophisticated enough to respond to voice commands.
I press a button on the side, as I’ve seen Abbey do many times. “Who has been in contact with this device?”
“Could not process command,” it says, in a drone-like voice. “Please re-phrase.”
“Tell me of the outside calls that have been received by this device in the past two Earth weeks.”
“I’m sorry, your request does not compute. Would you like to access directory assistance?”
I growl in irritation, resisting the urge to smash the irritating device against the window. “Replay last known communication.”
“You seem to be wanting to listen to the last call made to this device. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“The call will be replayed after the beep. Do you wish to proceed?”
“Yes!” Useless, primitive thing.
“Okay. The last call was fifteen days ago, at six-thirty-one AM. It will be replayed now.”