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Brilliant Starlight

Page 12

by Anna Carven


  The look he gives me is a slow-burner. I suspect he’s dealing with a similar problem right about now. The thought of him wanting me stokes my lust to further heights.

  Damn it, I hate being sick.

  “We will enter Xar’s orbit in five sivs,” Tarak informs me. “Do not worry, amina. Soon, all of this will be over.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Tarak

  As I gaze out of the viewing port on the alpha-class stealth-cruiser, Virdan X, I can only remind myself that Xar is a cursed place. I never thought I’d be landing on its infernal, overgrown, weed-infested surface ever again, but somehow, here we are, making the journey from Silence into Xar’s oppressive atmosphere.

  My preference would be to avoid the place altogether, but I know our mission is critical. Zharek speaks the truth. After all, it was because of him that I was transformed into what I am now, and similarly it was his choice to sabotage the Empire’s grand plans.

  Their mind-wipe was faulty. The desired effect—to produce completely subservient killers—was not achieved.

  I may not possess all of my memories, but I have my free will. I will never answer to another.

  Correction: there are only two beings in the entire Universe that I answer to, and that is my choice. One of them is currently asleep in my arms. I run my fingers through her soft brown hair, pushing it away from her face.

  I cannot help but notice the changes in her. The illness has melted away the lush curves she gained after pregnancy. She has become a little gaunt; her cheeks are hollow and the bones of her face are more prominent. She is still beautiful—she will always be beautiful—but I do not like to see her like this. When this is over, I am going to treat her to whatever her heart desires.

  Knowing Abbey, that will be some sort of sickly-sweet Earth delicacy.

  Human females have turned the consumption of food into an art-form. Until now, I have never understood how one might crave a particular type of food. Food is sustenance. It is energy. It is not meant to be enjoyed.

  Ha. Sometimes I suspect Abbey enjoys food almost as much as she enjoys sex.

  In the navigation room adjacent to us, Torin and Zharek are arguing. They are debating Theograssian kinetic theory and other such esoteric things. Their voices are growing louder. Soon they will be shouting at one another.

  I open up the comm. “Torin,” I growl. “You may both be fascinated by Theograssian mechanics, but my mate and I do not share your obsession. Keep it down.”

  “Sorry, boss.” There’s quiet irony in Torin’s tone. “This one has a way of getting under one’s skin.”

  Don’t I know it. I respond with a dissatisfied grunt and cut the comm. Abbey stirs in my arms, her brown-green eyes fluttering open. An infusion line runs into her left arm. It’s connected to a portable canister that delivers a constant supply of vital blood to the hungry mutant nanites. Without the blood, they would start to consume her.

  I have decided to allow her out of isolation and into the main cabin. Aside from the three medics—Zharek, Mareth, and Joran, who are clad in their impermeable infection suits—the rest of us are immune to the mutated virus. I saw the effect the isolation chamber had on my mate. At times she would become panicked. Claustrophobic, she called it. I cannot keep her confined like that for long. She yearns to look outside; she needs to see the stars.

  Unlike we Kordolians, who take comfort in darkness and actively seek out small, windowless spaces, Humans have some kind of innate hard-wired fear of the dark. They need light and wide-open spaces. They long for their wide blue sky and the warm light of their nearest star, the so-called sun.

  The very same sun burns our skin and sears our eyes, blinding us. We are dark-dwellers, whereas Humans live for the light.

  To my relief, my daughter has inherited the best of both worlds. Like her mother, she is immune to the harmful ultraviolet rays of Earth’s sun, but she can also see well in the dark, just like me.

  “Tarak,” Abbey is staring up at me with that look on her face. “Are you okay?”

  Am I okay? Ha. She walks closer to death with each passing siv and she asks if I am okay? Sweet, crazy female. “You of all people do not need to ask that question,” I say softly as I plant a lingering kiss on her forehead. It still beggars belief that she can show such concern on my behalf.

  No-one else would dare.

  “You’re taking me to Xar.” She nestles against me, carefully watching my expression. “It’s the place where you were…”

  “Created,” I say bluntly.

  Her mouth forms a soft oh. “What have they done to you, my love, to make you detest that place so much?”

  A hundred fractured memories explode in my mind, blurring into an endless stream of darkness. It was always dark in the deep labs. At first, they never allowed us outside for fear that one of us might break ranks and escape. My body was the property of the Empire; a specimen to be experimented on. We lived in a drug-fogged haze of mindless rage. Bodies were tested in combat, subjects pitted against one another until only the strongest remained.

  I killed every single opponent I fought. They gave us drugs that made us enjoy the violence and killing, and so we slaughtered our very own brethren, who no longer possessed names or faces. We were reduced to numbers.

  All part of the conditioning, they said. A war machine must possess a keen battle-lust.

  The conditioning has never entirely left me. I still enjoy violence, but I would never tell Abbey that. She has seen enough already. She should not know that side of me.

  What have they done to me?

  “It is not worth mentioning,” I tell her, my voice low and hoarse. What point is there in troubling her with such things? All of that is in the past now.

  Her eyes narrow slightly, as if she doesn’t quite believe me, but she doesn’t press me for further details. One of the things I appreciate about my mate is that she is patient. She knows when to leave well alone, and Xar is a topic that is best left in the past.

  Get in quickly, get out quickly. That’s my strategy. In order to save her, I will have to take Abbey down into the deep labs. For a short time, we will be in a place that reeks of death, but she does not need to know that.

  We will pass the holding cells and conditioning rooms and experimentation chambers without a word. We will go straight into the heart of the facility. There, Zharek will re-activate the machines and remove the disease from Abbey’s body.

  Once she has been given the all-clear, we will leave.

  Immediately.

  Xar is an abandoned planet. I do not expect to encounter any resistance, but I have brought along three of my First Division warriors, just to be safe. Including myself, we are four. We will be armed-to-the-teeth and ready to kill anything that stands in our way.

  A full squadron of Second Division soldiers will patrol the perimeter of the facility while we infiltrate the deep labs.

  There is nothing on Xar but endless thick jungle and the mostly harmless creatures that dwell within. Multiple surveillance scans have revealed no sign of life or civilization.

  In and out, as quickly as possible. Then back to safety. Back to Silence. Back to our daughter, who is our universe.

  What could possibly go wrong?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Abbey

  Holy crap, Xar reminds me of Earth. That’s my first thought as we prepare to punch through the atmosphere. The planet is covered in thick white clouds through which I catch glimpses of verdant green forest below.

  Glittering serpentine rivers meander through the trees, their loops and bends forming perfectly etched brown patterns amidst all the green. Occasionally, I spot a giant, shimmering lake. All of the bodies of water on this planet appear to be surrounded by land. As far as I can see, there’s no ocean.

  There’s a sun in this part of the Universe. I have no idea where we are, but we’ve left the dead star of Kythia and ended up in another solar system entirely. In the space of a few Earth-weeks, Silence is capab
le of covering distances that would take one of our Human ships hundreds of years to cross.

  Once again, I’m reminded of how scarily superior some of their technology is. That’s why they’ve been so good at conquering the Nine Galaxies. They can go anywhere.

  As our speed drops, a great tremor shakes the cabin and I look for a handhold. Instantly, Tarak’s behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. Then, as quickly as it began, the tremor stops.

  That’s it. We’ve broken through the atmosphere. I feel a mild deceleration, then nothing. The Virdan X’s stabilization technology is perfect. It’s so perfect that we don’t even need to strap ourselves into landing seats. Until we land, gravity, pressure, and stability will all be perfect. Damn these Kordolians and their freakishly perfect technology.

  “Now you can see why none of us like Xar,” Tarak murmurs. He pulls me against him and I lean into his hard body. His torso is covered by his exo-armor, but somehow, his warmth manages to seep into me.

  “It’s dense and humid, and it has a sun,” I reply, a wistful smile curving my lips.

  “Not my favorite kind of terrain. I hate sunlight.” As Tarak holds me, he takes care not to disturb the medi-apparatus strapped to my back. Zharek has somehow conceived of this thing; it’s essentially a backpack containing canisters that infuse artificially synthesized Human blood into my body at a constant rate. It monitors my blood parameters, too. As long as the blood supply is maintained, the virulent nanites inside me won’t go crazy. Despite its weight, the device is strangely ergonomic and easy to carry. It won’t slow me down one bit, especially since my legs have been enhanced by Kordolian nano-surgery.

  These days, I can outrun the best of them. The ambitious part of me thinks I probably should have tried out for the Earth Olympics. Too bad I’ve been turned into some sort of defective Franken-vampire by these fucking nanites. It’s kind-of gross, really. At least the virus hasn’t mutated again. I can’t imagine what it would want to eat next. My brain? Ugh. Spare the thought.

  “Makes me homesick for Earth,” I say. Tarak squeezes me gently. I run my gloved hands down his thick forearms, savoring his nearness. His presence helps distract from my mounting anxiety.

  “Do you believe in fate, Abbey of Earth?” His question hits me out of the blue, like a bolt of lightning.

  Just what has he been thinking about?

  “I…” I blink, caught off-guard. Trust Tarak to surprise me at a time like this. “I haven’t really thought about it.” I look up at him, narrowing my eyes in suspicion. “What have you been contemplating, my love?”

  “Life and death,” he answers. “Coincidences. Chains of events. For instance, if those assassins hadn’t infiltrated our stronghold on Earth for a second time, I would not have been compelled to take Kythia.”

  “You’d be retired?” I ask slyly. Ha. Yeah, right. I can’t imagine control-freak Tarak stepping away from command, even though he says he’s going to do it eventually. He’s already tried it once, and look how that turned out.

  “We would not be in the vicinity of Xar. We would be in Sector Nine, far, far away from treatment. Who knows what might have happened in the time it would take us to travel from Earth to Xar?”

  “So in attacking us, the assassins may have unwittingly saved my life?”

  “Perhaps the Goddess has already woven her mysterious plans,” Tarak says cryptically. A soft laugh escapes him. “I am not particularly religious. Although I curse Kaiin and thank the Goddess, I do not think our destiny is controlled by some higher power. It is our actions that force fate to bend.”

  Typical Tarak, thinking that fate itself can submit to his will.

  “If you hadn’t taken me away from Fortuna Tau, you wouldn’t have come to Earth.”

  “Things would be different,” he agrees. “Our race would have been doomed to extinction. We would have fought one another until every last drop of Kordolian blood was spilled. When I found you, I was preparing to turn our guns on the Empire.” A soft laugh escapes him, surprising me. “You were angry that I took you away. You fought it. You tried to escape me.”

  “I was terrified,” I admit. “I thought you were going to do bad things to me. Kordolians don’t exactly have a reputation for being nice.”

  “You would never have escaped me,” he growls. Ooh. I don’t doubt that. He removes his arms from around me. “Turn around.” All of a sudden, his voice is harsh and insistent, and I have no choice but to obey.

  He gets like this sometimes. Bossy. Commanding. It makes me weak at the knees.

  There’s something in his hands. It’s a silver band with a large gem-looking thing attached to one end. The gemstone is housed in a metal casing and it’s of a decent size, about as big as my fist. It glitters brilliantly in the dim light, looking somewhat like an impossibly large, perfectly cut diamond.

  Tarak starts to fasten the thing around my head. What is this? Some kind of alien-tech tiara? I look up at him in confusion. His eyes are fierce and unrelenting.

  That look. Hot damn.

  Nothing will come between us.

  That’s what it is. If anyone has the power to bend fate, it’s this man.

  Warrior, traitor, killer. Husband, mate, and lover.

  Father to our child.

  A powerful feeling rises in my chest. I believe him. Now more than ever, I believe him. The Universe has thrown dirt in our faces, and we’re about to kick back, hard.

  “You hate the darkness,” he says softly, reaching behind my head to secure the tiara-thing. He tests it gently and grunts, satisfied that it’s secure. “This is a crixa. In Veronian, it means: ‘the starlight that burns through the darkness’.”

  He closes his eyes and presses his thumb to the gemstone activating it. Everything turns white. I blink, momentarily blinded. The light from this strange alien device is searing. This crixa thing sure lives up to its name.

  “Where did you get this?” My vision slowly adjusts to the intense light. Tarak’s eyes are still closed. The brightness turns his silver skin almost-white, like platinum. His hair glows, becoming incandescent. His eyebrows and lashes stand out against his luminous skin, while his obsidian armor seems to drink in the light, transforming it into darkness.

  A shadow of a smile curves his lips. Even with his eyes closed, he somehow manages to look both benevolent and fierce. My jaw drops. The scene before me is just too surreal.

  Damn him. Just when I think I’ve got him figured out, he goes and surprises me like this.

  “I would have procured you some dark-vision goggles, but the Trader’s Market is currently experiencing a major supply disruption. That is entirely my doing, so I got you this instead. The light source is perpetual. You will never be in darkness.”

  “Oh…” A source of light that will never run out. “Thank you.” It sounds rare and expensive. They would pay a fortune for this kind of tech back on Earth. Tarak has developed a habit of showering me with exotic gifts, and this has to be one of the most romantic. It’s practical, too, just like the Callidum dagger he gave me on our very first ‘date’.

  Okay, so a secret trip to the frozen wastelands of the Vaal while being chased by Imperial assassins wasn’t exactly a date, but close enough.

  “To turn it off, just tap it, like this.” He presses his thumb against the crixa and it blinks out.

  The cabin goes dim. He squeezes my waist and captures my mouth with his. His kiss is violent and savage and possessive. He runs his hands over the utility suit I’m wearing, caressing my curves through the thick-yet-flexible Kordolian-made material. Everything I’m wearing has been provided by Tarak, right down to the thick-soled boots that end just above my knees. Everything fits perfectly. The suit hugs my curves suspiciously well. Too well.

  I’ve already caught him staring once or twice. Damn him. He owns every inch of me and he knows it.

  Unable to suppress my desire, I kiss him back. He nips my lower lip with his fangs. We linger against one another. Heat surges between m
y legs. When he’s around, that feeling is never far away.

  “When we go down into the labs,” he murmurs, “you will be surrounded by light. Just remember that the darkness cannot touch you, and that I am yours to command. When I am by your side, nothing can harm you.” His rich voice echoes throughout the deep silence.

  We are alone in the cabin. I can hear nothing but the rasp of my own breathing and the faint engine-hum of the ship.

  I glance out of the viewing port. We’re flying through clouds now. As the thick white mist streams past us, I’m reminded terribly of an Earth landing.

  But this isn’t Earth, and for some reason, I’m getting a bad, bad vibe about this place.

  If the sun is out and shining, then why do I need a light that burns away the darkness?

  A soft beeping noise reaches my ears, and instantly, Tarak stiffens. It’s my medi-apparatus. It’s beeping. Strangely, I feel fine. I’m not coughing or hurting or feeling faint.

  “Zharek!” Tarak’s roar splits the stillness. “Get in here, now!”

  The medic appears almost instantly. Behind his protective faceplate, his face is etched with worry. His bottom lip is raw, as if he’s been biting down with his fangs.

  His silent minder, Torin, is behind him, just waiting for him to slip-up. He’s become Zharek’s shadow; his ever-present guard.

  We’ve dropped through the clouds. On our left wing is another stealth-cruiser, the Serpen V. It carries a squadron of Tarak’s soldiers, all ready to stand guard as we head for the deep labs. I’m not really sure what they’re supposed to guard against if this planet is truly abandoned. I can see the verdant jungle below. It’s like flying over the last tiny remnants of the Amazon, times ten-thousand. It’s so fucking beautiful.

  Zharek bids me to sit. Mareth and Joran are behind him, staring intently at a holo-monitor. A hovering med-trolley is within close reach. They look like they’re waiting for the shit to hit the proverbial fan.

 

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