by Anna Carven
The General inclined his head, not buying into Nythian’s argument. “There are times when my mate is in there with her.” His voice grew soft. “You understand what that means, don’t you?”
“Yeah.” Shit. The mates of the First Division warriors were sacred, vulnerable, human. Nythian would guard Abbey as diligently, as fiercely as he would his own mate. “When you put it that way…”
He couldn’t refuse such a responsibility. He knew it. Tarak knew it.
It was just how they were wired.
“The revenant is still an unknown quantity. We don’t know the long-term effects of the transfer. There has been no evidence of the Tharian symbiote since it left Enki’s body, but that does not mean that it won’t emerge at some point. Any time my mate is in the revenant’s presence, I expect you to observe her every move, every breath, every thought. If there is even the merest whisper of a suggestion of danger to Abbey, you will intervene before the idea even enters the revenant’s head.” The General’s crimson eyes gleamed in the starlight as his expression turned fierce. “Of course, if it were up to me, I would guard her myself, but the Nine Galaxies will not run themselves, and I may have to make an unexpected trip to Bartharra soon, so I am entrusting her safety to you.”
Tarak’s words sank deep as Nythian realized the magnitude of the task he’d been given. Still, he couldn’t help but ask the obvious. “Wouldn’t it just be safer if Abbey stays away from Alexis until we know exactly what’s going on with her?”
“Do you think I can tell my mate what to do?” A strange mixture of emotion crossed Tarak’s face—tension, pride, absolute devotion, and something Nythian couldn’t quite put his finger on. “Abbey sees this woman, Alexis, as one of her tribe, and it is in her nature to feel responsible for her. It would be so very easy for me to restrain my wife, Nythian, but then it would be very hard for me to earn back her trust. She is not helpless, and the reality is that we are only going to make progress with the revenant if she is able to interact with her fellow humans.”
“This new female is petrified of anything silver and fanged,” Nythian said dryly. “Stares a heck of a lot, but hasn’t said a word to me.”
“That is why Abbey and Layla are instrumental in her rehabilitation. Did you not wonder why Alexis is so afraid of our kind?” Tarak turned his head, glancing out across the stars as a small, sleek black cruiser drifted past the window. Nythian recognized it as one of their own—probably a passenger transport returning from its base ship. Once again, the Fleet Station had become a hive of activity, only this time, they were far, far away from Kythia.
“Well, up until only recently, we were responsible for colonizing and plundering most of the Nine Galaxies, so she’s probably got this idea in her head that we’re murderous monsters.”
“No, her fear is rooted much deeper than that. Abbey tells me she is traumatized. She let slip that she was attacked by Kordolians on Earth, but she does not trust us enough to reveal the details. Tell me, Nythian. Are you not curious to find out exactly who attacked her?”
“Sounds a bit strange,” he agreed, “but I don’t think I’m going to have much luck asking her questions, if you know what I mean. Might be better to get Zharek to give her a truth serum.”
“I thought about it, but Zharek says it is too dangerous. Stripping her of her inhibitions while the Tharian lurks in her subconscious could have unintended consequences.”
“So how in Kaiin’s Hells do we get any answers out of her?”
“Her view of Kordolians needs to change.”
“You want me to be the one who convinces her that we aren’t the bad guys?” Nythian’s tone was laced with a healthy dose of skepticism. He couldn’t help it. Every time the human had looked at him she’d worn an expression of pure fear—with a hint of madness. What in Kaiin’s Hells had happened to her? “She’s not going to—”
“Nythian.”
“Okay, okay.” He backed down, waving his hand in a resigned gesture. He knew the signs. The boss was beginning to lose patience. Now that Tarak had explained the whole thing in detail—protecting Abbey, retrieving information, observing for any signs of the Tharian—the task of guarding the mysterious human called Alexis Carter didn’t seem so mundane… although he still had around sixty chalens of free time before he was due to go back and take over from Enki, and he was determined to make the most of it. “You got time for a quick rumble in the training chamber, Sir?”
“Always.” Tarak’s expression didn’t change one whit. He turned and started to walk, beckoning for Nythian to follow. “I will destroy you.”
“Go ahead and try,” Nythian bared his fangs as his battle-lust surged. “I’ll make you eat your words.” When two First Division warriors stepped into the fight chamber, it was inevitable that they were going to beat each other to a pulp. Their highly modified bodies could take it again and again, so they fought as savagely as if they were in real combat—with claw and blade and fang. Nothing was off limits.
A look of pure arrogance spread across Tarak’s face—almost a smirk, except the formidable leader of the First Division never smirked. “Go ahead and try. See what happens.”
Nythian grinned. He couldn’t resist a challenge. Lodan always ribbed him for being too competitive, but really, they were all like that. The scientists behind the Empire’s brutal Exogenesis project hadn’t selected their candidates based on their physical attributes alone.
Personality was a major factor, according to Zharek.
Competitive. Violent. Inherently savage.
But they could be protective, too.
Perhaps this assignment involving Alexis Carter wasn’t just a mundane guard job after all. It was an odd little challenge, the likes of which Nythian hadn’t encountered before.
Because how in the Nine Hells was a savage brute like him supposed to convince a terrified human to trust him, let alone one who had gone through the most unimaginable experience—resurrected from the dead?
With a Tharian in her head, to boot. Was she even human anymore?
“Not all battles are won by force,” the General said softly, and it was as if he’d read Nythian’s thoughts. “It will not be that difficult if you make an effort to understand her.”
Damn. Sometimes Nythian wondered if Tarak had some uncanny sixth sense. His ability to read people and predict their actions was scary.
Well, that’s why he was the boss. His strike rate was off the charts.
“I’ll keep it in mind,” Nythian murmured as they left the command room, striding down the dark corridor. “But right now, I’m more focused on thinking about how I’m going to whoop your ass.”
“Oh?” The General’s voice became dangerously soft—anyone who knew him well knew that tone—but there was a touch of dark humor in there, too. “You are skirting very close to insubordination, soldier.”
“Yeah, but I ain’t a soldier anymore.”
“Hmph.” A snort of amusement escaped Tarak as they passed through unravelling Qualum doors and entered the training room, a vast space bordered on all sides by indestructible black walls. This particular chamber was reserved exclusively for the First Division warriors, because sometimes a man just needed to fight, and when the urge struck, it was impossible to shake off.
Unlike the other training facilities, this room didn’t have a viewing gallery. There were just the black walls and floor, and darkness.
The Qualum doors shut ominously behind them. Tarak undid his dark blue kashkan, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it across the room. Black nanites were already rippling across his skin, forming the seamless exo-armor that could stop most things—except Calldium blades and Xargek claws and close-range repeated plasma blasts and their own Callidum-impregnated claws.
That was a lot of things, actually.
Having just come off guard duty, Nythian was already wearing his full battle-kit, including weapons. The General wasn’t armed, so he methodically got rid of his knives, swords, and plasma-guns, dropp
ing them onto the floor with a clatter.
Tarak walked into the center of the room, flexing his knuckles. “Ready?”
“Always, boss.”
Nythian didn’t get another word in, because the General’s fist was already flying toward his face.
So he did the only thing he could.
He dodged, and struck back with a vicious kick to the stomach, which connected.
Got you.
And found himself thrown flat on his back, wondering what the fuck had just happened.
Bastard. I’m going to get you for that. Savage glee coursed through him as his claws came out. His heart thundered. His blood sang. This was what he was. A warrior. A fighter. A fucking monster.
Just like his brothers.
Could he ever convince Alexis that he was different to the monstrous image of Kordolians she held in her mind? Was she even sane enough to believe him?
“Never know until you try,” he muttered as he launched into a blistering new combination attack he’d been practicing recently.
But the wily General—the tactician, the mind-reader, the unorthodox fighter—somehow, he was able to read Nythian’s intent. He dodged and blocked, ignoring Nythian’s claws even as they pierced the armor covering his torso, drawing obsidian blood.
First blood.
Nythian smiled. It would definitely not be his last. Yeah, he was a nice guy sometimes, just not all the time.
But then she would never have to see this side of him… would she?
Author’s Note
Dear wonderful readers, I just wanted to say a big thank you for picking up my little story. As always, I hope you enjoyed it! This is the book I needed to write to immerse myself back in universe of the Dark Planet Warriors.
If you’ve been following my work in recent times, you might have noticed that my release rate has dropped lately. Unfortunately, I’ve been dealing with a few personal challenges that have consumed a lot of my time and energy and creativity.
But things are much better now, and I’m finally in a position to work towards getting back to my old writing speed. I have a few more books planned in the Darkstar Mercenaries series. Next up is Fractured Souls, featuring Nythian. Then it’ll be Lodan’s book, and after that, Jeral and then Arkan (both of whom we’ll be seeing more of in the next couple of installments).
I also plan on writing stories (in no particular order) for: Aunt Kenna and her mysterious Avein lover, the rest of the five Commanders (Ikriss, Mardok, Jerik, and Tarkun), and one of my favorites, Zharek.
And then… there is possibly another full-length Abbey and Tarak up my sleeve.
As always, a big thank you for continuing to support my work. ❤️
If you would like to receive updates about my books, you can sign up to my mailing list: http://eepurl.com/bQaHP5, or find me on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/annacarvenauthor/ I only ever send out an email when I have a new release to announce.
I also post the occasional musing on my blog: https://annacarven.wordpress.com/
Also by Anna Carven
Dark Planet Warriors
(in order of publication)
Dark Planet Warriors (Book 1)
Dark Planet Falling (Book 2)
Into the Light (Book 3)
Out of Darkness (Book 4)
Darkside Blues (Book 4.5)
Forged in Shadow (Book 5)
Infinity’s Embrace (Book 6)
Electric Heart (Book 7)
Brilliant Starlight (Book 8)
Hidden Planet
Destroyer (Book 1)
Catalyst (Book 2)
Darkstar Mercenaries
A Darkside Interlude (Book 0.5)
Taming Chaos (Book 1)
Shattered Silence (Book 2)
Dark Planet Warriors: Earth Files (a series of short stories)
Book 1 (Rykal and Arin)