Sanctuary: A Dark Planet Warriors Novella

by Anna Carven

  I glare at the woman. “That is none of your fucking business,” I snap, taking a leaf out of the Kenna manual of Legendary Bluntness. “Now in the spirit of Christmas and all that, I’m going to try and convince this former Kordolian Imperial warrior not to be pissed at you, but I can’t make any promises. I can only hold him off for so long, lady, so if I were you I’d be getting out of here right now… before he changes his mind.”

  A wolf-like howl of mirth erupts from behind me. Rykal.

  “You’re a fucking dead man,” Kalan growls in Kordolian as Ami wraps her arms around his neck and plants a kiss on his cheek.

  The old woman turns another shade of pale. “I-I’m going,” she mutters.

  Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way… The band plays on, but all around us there’s a cone of silence.

  People are staring.

  In this modern, hectic city, where people go about their daily business without fuss, where even the strangest behavior on the street rarely earns so much as a glance, people are staring at Kalan and Rykal as if they’ve just dropped from the skies above.

  Nobody else dares approach us, until…

  Beep, zap, beep, zap. Woowoowoo.

  I groan.

  The familiar sound of an Enforcer drone’s siren reaches my ears. Crazy Lady shoots me a triumphant, vindictive look as she beats a hasty retreat, disappearing into the crowd.

  You silly old cow. Did she alert the enforcers? Or did the noise and commotion draw their attention?

  If I was being totally fair, I suppose I could commend her for being the only one out of hundreds to actually stand up and try and protect Ami from the big bad Kordolian…

  Nah, screw that.

  I’m completely biased. Kalan, Rykal… all of Tarak’s clan, they’re like family to me now. I’ll stick up for them over some do-gooder human any day of the week.

  Out of sympathy for Kalan, I reach his side and try to take Ami, but she stiffens, clinging to him like a little monkey.

  “No!” She shakes her head stubbornly

  “Fine, Ami,” I sigh. “You can hang out with Uncle Kal for a little bit longer. You okay with that, Kalan?”

  The big guy grunts.

  She’s as safe as houses in his arms.

  I’m not worried, even as a sleek black Enforcer drone swoops down from overhead. “Unidentified Citizen,” it blurts as it circles around us. “Do not move. Maintain position or you will be fired upon. Apprehension in progress. Apprehension in progress.”

  Now that the drone has centered over its targets, a squad of Enforcers will be arriving any second now.

  Having overcome his uncontrolled laughing fit, Rykal appears beside us in a flash. Now he’s all business, stalking forward with menacing intent. I glance at him, suddenly worried. A confrontation between two Kordolian First Division warriors and a squad of Enforcers would not end well… for the Enforcers.

  Is this about the time I get on my private comm and alert Tarak?

  No, he’s up in space. There isn’t much he can do. Kalan and Rykal are plenty capable of handling this… minor situation.

  “Relax, Abbey. I’ll try not to kill anybody. Promise.”

  “Try?” My voice goes up a notch. I don’t like the sound of that. What was supposed to be a fun and festive outing has quickly descended into chaos.

  Well, Abbey? What did you expect?

  Kalan gently prises Ami away and hands her to me. “Just in case.”

  For once, Ami doesn’t fight. I take her into my arms, clutching her tightly. “What have you done this time, little Miss?”

  “Bwah bwah,” she says, pointing her finger at the hovering drone. She giggles, completely oblivious to the seriousness of the situation.

  Bwah bwah? I’ve seen her doing that thing with Tarak. What has he been teaching her?

  The brass band has stopped playing. All of a sudden, the crowd is a lot thinner. People are leaving.

  A pair of armor-clad Enforcers marches toward us, their faces concealed behind reflective helms, their bolt-guns raised. “Lie down on the ground, put your hands behind your back, and don’t fucking move.”

  “Lie down?” The soft laugh that escapes Rykal’s lips is laced with the promise of death. This is the sort of laughter I’m used to from Kordolians. “Not in a trillion light-years.”

  Rykal’s hand goes to the small of his back. Kalan is reaching inside the folds of his kashkan. Obviously, they’re carrying… guns, blades, and lord knows what else.

  Human bolt-energy is no match for Kordolian plasma. These Enforcers might look plenty tough in their advanced body armor, but Kalan and Rykal could rip them apart in seconds if they wanted to.

  “Ami’s with us,” I remind them gently, clutching her protectively. Not one to enjoy being held tightly, she squirms in my arms.

  Kalan and Rykal close ranks, stepping between us and the Enforcers.

  The mood has changed. The festive air is gone. In its place are two bristling Kordolians, ready to explode into action if one of these Enforcers even looks at us the wrong way.

  “Get your asses on the ground, aliens! Last fucking warning.”

  “You really want to do this?” Darkness creeps across Kalan’s bare chest and hands. His nanite exo-armor. Tiny obsidian particles of liquid darkness, coalescing to form an impenetrable sheath over his body, leaving every inch protected except his face. He takes a step forward. “We haven’t done anything wrong. Why are you bothering us, humans?”

  Oh, Kalan’s grumpy all right. I can tell by the way his jaw is twitching.

  “Stay the fuck back, alien.” The shorter of the two Enforcers aims his gun at the center of Kalan’s chest. “One more move and you’re a dead man.”

  “Nah,” Kalan is relentless, continuing his slow march forward as Rykal hangs back, a plasma gun appearing in his left hand.

  I take a couple of steps backward, balancing Ami on my hip. People are scattering in all directions, not wanting to get caught up in this… whatever it is.

  Tension radiates from Kalan and Rykal like heat from the sun.

  I briefly contemplate stepping in to defuse the situation, but quickly decide against it. Maybe in the old days, when I was young and single and didn’t really understand the limits of my own mortality, I would have foolishly interrupted them, but I’ve got Ami now, and her safety comes first.

  Kalan’s hand goes up, and…

  Boom!

  The Enforcer’s bolt-gun goes off, hitting Kalan square in the chest. I spin around and duck down, covering Ami’s eyes as I watch the action out of the corner of my vision.

  Predictably, Kalan doesn’t fall. He becomes a black and silver blur, with Rykal moving behind him in perfect sync.

  The second Enforcer pulls the trigger, but nothing happens. He pulls it again, a choked sound of disbelief coming from his throat.

  I soon realize why.

  A small throwing knife is embedded in the Enforcer’s gun. It’s split the metal barrel perfectly in two, and if it had been hurled with just a little more force, it would have spilt the guy’s shiny helmet and face, too.

  But Rykal’s being good and sticking to his promise of not killing anybody.

  He’s just disabled an Enforcer’s gun without causing any collateral damage. At the same time, Kalan has wrenched the other Enforcer’s gun out of his hands and tucked it into his own belt.

  It’s all over in a flash. Suddenly, the Enforcers are on the ground, disarmed and defeated. The Kordolians move too fast sometimes; my regular old human eyes just can’t keep up with them.

  “Officer down, officer down,” the drone blurts weakly, emitting a faint whine as it hovers above us. “Reinforcement requested. Estimated arrival in: five minutes and eighteen seconds.”

  That’s way too long.

  Kalan presses his boot into the small of the Enforcer’s back, eliciting a grunt of pain. “I told you, we haven’t done anything wrong. Now that we’re in a position to talk, you will scan my chip.” />
  Silence.

  There’s a crack in the Enforcer’s helmet. Compared to Rykal and Kalan’s sleek form-fitting nano-armor, the human tech looks clunky and outdated, just another little reminder of the technological gap between humans and Kordolians.

  “Unki Kal!” Ami blurts, trying to wriggle out of my arms.

  “No way, kiddo.” This time, I squeeze her tightly. “Unki Kal is busy right now.”

  “Be good for your mother, Ami,” Kalan growls.

  “Y-you’re making a mistake, alien. Drone’s already called for backup.” The Enforcer’s voice is full of fake bluster. “They’ll be here any minute no—”

  “Scan my chip,” Kalan says again, completely ignoring the Enforcer’s warning.

  “Wh-what the fuck?”

  “We got the ID chip,” Rykal adds. “Well, we made our own, but they integrate with your systems, and they have been approved by your very own Federation… not that they had much choice.” He grins, looking particularly savage with his dark glasses and gleaming fangs. That’s Rykal for you. Charming and affable one moment, utterly dangerous the next. “We anticipated this kind of thing would happen. Scan it. Go on, check our clearance.” His voice becomes arrogant, taunting, cold. Kordolian. So different to how he is with Ami and I. There are still a few curious and foolhardy humans scattered around the place, watching as if this is some sort of spectator sport, but Rykal’s completely oblivious to them. Again, he laughs. “Don’t expect to be able to track us, though… and if you want to know who we are, you’re going to be disappointed…”

  What? This is news to me.

  Ordinary folks like me don’t have micro-implants. All kinds of ethics-based laws have been passed regarding the tracking and surveillance of regular Citizens, thank god. We humans haven’t completely lost the plot… yet. No, the Federation still keeps tabs on the majority of us with good old bio-sig recognition technology, nothing fancy.

  I don’t even know how the surveillance systems register Kordolian faces.

  But even biological signatures can be mimicked. It’s incredibly expensive and difficult to do, but there have been stories of high-level theft and espionage pulled off by total impostors.

  That’s where micro-implants come in. They’re the highest level of identification one can possibly get, usually reserved for criminals and I don’t know, probably spies and high-level officials who work for the state… people who need advanced ID and tracking capabilities.

  They’re the most secure and foolproof form of identification on the planet.

  I sigh.

  This has Tarak’s calculating silver fingerprints all over it. Somehow, I get the feeling these implants will allow them to pass through through any authority, any checkpoint on the planet, while at the same time rendering them invisible to the Federation’s systems.

  Hacking our tech is child’s play for Kordolians.

  “Hurry up,” Rykal insists. “You’re wasting our precious Kriss-mass shopping time.”

  “Unghh…” The Enforcer groans. “Y-you’re out of your mind, fuckin’ moon-elf.”

  “Uh-uh.” Rykal shakes his head. “Wrong answer. What’s an elf, anyway?”

  I make a mental note to provide him with some Tolkien.

  He bends down and scans his victim’s form, searching for something. “Where’s that thing… I mean, what would he use to scan…” His brow creases quizzically as he looks to me for guidance. “Abbey?”

  “Check his utility belt,” I sigh, struck by the ridiculousness of the situation. Here we are, standing in the middle of the street with a couple of Enforcers on the ground, and Kalan and Rykal are standing over them and acting as if this whole thing is just the biggest hassle in the world.

  Ami giggles. She thinks it’s funny for some reason.

  “Fine, fine, I’ll do it,” the Enforcer blurts. “C-can I move my goddamn arm now?”

  Rykal lifts his foot from where it’s been crushing the Enforcer’s arm. I wince. Ouch. That’s gotta hurt. “On your knees. Don’t try anything stupid… unless you enjoy the taste of plasma.”

  “Backup is one minute away.” The drone drifts lazily through the air until Kalan shoots it an irritated glare and whips out a throwing knife.

  “Quiet already,” he growls. “Kaiin’s Hells, that thing is annoying.”

  The drone crashes to the ground in a shower of sparks, impaled by the small obsidian blade.

  “Here,” the Enforcer wheezes, and I almost feel sorry for the guy as he holds up a small black analyzer, a sleek handheld device that fits neatly into his palm. “ID scan.” He activates it with a voice command. “Holo display.”

  A code projects into the air; a weird and indecipherable sequence of glowing blue letters. The letter X seems to be repeated many times. As quickly as they appear, the letters disappear.

  “Shit. They’re blacklighted. Code X.” Apparently, all that mumbo-jumbo actually means something.

  “Is this for real? I thought that just a myth, and these guys are aliens… are you fucking kidding me?” The Enforcer sounds exasperated, defeated, and a little bit awed.

  Code X? Blacklighted? What the hell does that even mean?

  “Language,” I snap, covering Ami’s ears. “There’s a kid here.”

  “No cursing.” Kalan gives the Enforcer a light kick, just enough to rattle his armor. “Have some manners.”

  “Unki Kal pway?” Ami squirms to the side, managing to stick her head out. “Pway?”

  “Later, sweetheart.” Kalan is perfectly serious as he responds to Ami’s invitation to play.

  “You’re going to make a wonderful father someday, Kalan,” I say quietly, my voice almost a whisper. He can hear me perfectly well, though.

  He does a little double-take, shakes his head a fraction, and then leans over the Enforcer menacingly. “Find what you’re looking for?”

  “Shit, Bob, we gotta let them go.”

  “I don’t understand. We can’t just—”

  “You’re not supposed to understand. This isn’t our jurisdiction. This is NA-level shit. Possibly even higher.”

  The sound of footsteps makes me look over my shoulders. Six Enforcers approach us, guns raised.

  It seems the backup has arrived.

  “Ma’am, get out of the way.” One of them gestures with the tip of her gun as she takes a cursory look at the two of us. No doubt the infoscreen built into her visor is providing her with my basic data. Name, age, occupation, citizenship status, previous convictions, outstanding warrants, credit score, Morality Quotient…

  I wonder what my MQ is now. The Federation intelligence algorithms would have picked up on my association with Kordolians a long time ago.

  The Enforcer stares at us for a little while longer, trying to figure us out. “Are you hurt? In need of assistance?”

  “Bwah!” Ami cries.

  “Shh, not now, sweetie.” I put a finger to Ami’s lips, holding her tightly. “I’m with them,” I say tersely, not moving an inch as the Enforcer stiffens in surprise. I don’t want to get so far away that Rykal or Kalan can’t reach us in time if anything serious goes down.

  But it won’t.

  This whole situation is about to defuse.

  “Stand down, officers.” The Enforcer who’s on his knees issues a command. His shoulders slump. He looks rather crestfallen. “They’re free to go.”

  “Assaulting an Enforcer? Resisting arrest? Fucking aliens?”

  “Drop it, Remy. That’s an order. Question me again and I’ll assign you to a Darkside patrol for the next six months.” He looks up at Kalan. “I’m going to stand up now. So is my partner.” Slowly, the Enforcer removes his helmet. He’s older than his voice suggests, with salt-and-pepper hair, deep lines on either side of his mouth, and a greying close-cropped beard. “I don’t get paid enough for this shit,” he mutters.

  “We’re not going to cause any trouble, Enforcer.” Rykal smiles, offering a conciliatory shrug. “As I said, we’re just doing our
Kriss-mass shopping. Why don’t you just let us be on our way now?”

  Kalan shifts his foot a fraction, allowing Bob to get up. The Enforcer swears in English, shaking his head wryly as he runs his hand over the crack in his helmet.

  “All clear,” the drone announces, rising up into the air. “No indication for arrest. Return to stations.”

  Ami’s just about run out of patience. If she doesn’t get to move around soon, she’s going to explode.

  “Move out,” the boss orders, gesturing to his subordinates. “Let’s go.”

  “What about the lady and the kid—”

  “I’m with them,” I call out for the second time, my irritation rising. Why is it so hard to believe that we’re with Kalan and Rykal? Maybe Tarak’s right. People are just going to have to get used to the fact that the Kordolians are here to stay.

  The more exposure they get, the more people will regard us as normal.

  “Fuckin’ crazy lady,” one of the Enforcers mutters as they retreat.

  “Say that again and I’ll cut your tongue out,” Kalan growls.

  “We’re going,” Bob says, hastily moving away from the Kordolians.

  Ami squirms around in my arms like there’s no tomorrow, becoming increasingly agitated. She starts to growl, her voice getting louder and louder…

  So much like her father.

  I put her on her feet and she runs to Kalan. “Unki Kal!”

  As Kalan lifts her into his arms, I shoot the two warriors a pointed look. “Care to explain what that was all about?”

  “Uh, nope.” Rykal looks sheepish.

  “His orders?” Ooh, that Tarak. He fixes everything in the background without warning, without explanation, because that’s just the way he is. I never forget that he holds our world in the palm of his hand; he could crush it in an instant if he wanted to. Super control freak. Tyrant. Obsessive manipulator. Master strategist.

  I know he hides things from me. There are horrors inside his head that will never see the light of day.

  But sometimes, I have to pull him out of that world and remind him that I’m human, that my existence is filled with simple pleasures… family, nature, food, sentimental little human festivals like Kriss-mass. I find beauty in the mundane, even more so now that I’ve been to other parts of the Universe.