by Regine Abel
LEGION
Xian Warriors – Book 1
Regine Abel
Juno Wells
Copyright © 2018
Copyright
All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal and punishable by law. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This book uses mature language and explicit sexual content. It is not intended for anyone under the age of 18.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
To Nero without whom this book would have never seen the light of day. Thank you for never letting me give up when things got tough.
To all the fans of science fiction romance who give us a reason to keep writing about wondrous worlds beyond the stars.
To my family. Love always.
PROLOGUE
Legion
Silent tears dripped down Sabrina’s cheeks as she sought courage in Zemun’s eyes. Their death imminent and inevitable, the young Soulcatcher and her just as young Xian Warrior appeared determined to make their unit proud until the end.
This shouldn’t be happening.
While the Vanguard played the role of suicide crew which cleared the path for the rest of the Coalition’s military forces, rookies never occupied the frontline. Zemun should have been on a reconnaissance mission, away from the battlefront. How the fuck did Khutu, the Kryptid General, get his hands on both of them? Sabrina should have been in a safe house to begin with.
Khutu’s smug face pressed against Sabrina’s freckled cheek, although his multifaceted eyes faced towards the camera transmitting the feed to the Vanguard HQ. She tried to pull away but he tightened his grip with the hand fisting her hair to hold her still. Sabrina couldn’t have gone far anyway, restrained as she and Zemun were with magnetic shackles hooked into the wall.
“Looks like you’ve lost two of your pups, Legion,” Khutu said to the camera, the clicking sound of his voice as grating as ever.
He didn’t expect an answer. The one-way feed probably meant that this was a recording of events which occurred earlier.
“Such a pretty little human,” Khutu said. The curved, razor-sharp claws of his chitin-armored hand traced a path down her cheek to the V of her black Vanguard dress uniform. Although he didn’t break skin, pink stripes marked her alabaster skin in the wake of his claws. “She would make a fine breeder.” He turned to Zemun, shackled on his other side. “Maybe I should kill you first so that you can feel everything she does while she’s holding your soul. Would you like that, little pup?”
Zemun held the General’s gaze in silence, his face devoid of emotion. My heart ached for him. He was indeed a pup, but such a talented one. He should’ve had more time. Yet, I could only admire his strength and courage.
However, they seemed to irritate Khutu who clicked his mandibles in annoyance. With a lightning fast swipe of his claws, the General attempted to slit Zemun’s throat. The scales of his neck sheltered him, although a few of them tore off. Disbelief and then rage descended upon the General’s features. Warriors didn’t usually develop such strong scales at such a young age. Khutu attacked the young warrior with both hands, tearing at his scales and at his flesh with rabid fury. Zemun withstood the assault without a word, only the gurgling sound of his breathing reached us until it faded along with the light in his eyes.
Xenon and Chaos, two of the other Xian Warriors in the room with me, cursed at the violent display. Hatred burned in my guts while sorrow crushed my hearts. The ethereal light of Zemun’s soul wavered as if stuck in a tug-of-war before flowing towards Sabrina. If I were to guess, he had refused to let her catch him to protect her, but she had caught him regardless to preserve his life for a short while longer.
Relenting at last, Khutu extended a hand to someone off-camera. A Human-Kryptid hybrid walked into view and gave him a towel to wipe some of the gore off his obsidian, chitin armor. The General tossed the towel back to the hybrid before turning towards Sabrina. Her eyes had turned black the minute she had captured Zemun’s soul.
The hybrid pinched his lips in disgust looking at the state of the young warrior’s corpse. “Should I bring the female to the breeders’ pen?” he asked.
The General didn’t answer, too busy peering into Sabrina’s eyes. The hybrid placed his free hand on his chest, his fingers drumming in what I assumed to be a sign of impatience.
“I see you hiding inside her, little warrior. I truly wish I had more time to play with the both of you, but other worlds eagerly wait for me to conquer them.”
Sabrina’s face lit up with hope she was too slow to hide.
Khutu chuckled. “Oh no, little human, that doesn’t mean you and your precious cargo get off that easy. He’s too much of a threat for me to let him live inside you with so much Vanguard presence in the vicinity.”
Sabrina’s face hardened. “We will defeat you. Killing me will not serve as a deterrent for Soulcatchers; quite the opposite. They will rally behind my death and come after you with greater determination. You will be squashed like the stupid little bug you are.”
I winced, even though I understood why she would provoke him like that. The General’s legendary temper would push him to grant her a swift death rather than the prolonged torture he usually relished.
Blood exploded from Sabrina’s mouth as Khutu backhanded her. Without missing a beat, she turned back to face him, defiant. “You will lose, and I will watch from above while they piss on your corpse.”
The words no sooner left her lips than the General’s claws slit her throat. He leaned into her face with a final taunt to Zemun. “Enjoy watching your female die, warrior. You’ll follow her soon thereafter.”
I fisted my hands on the conference table in front of me and clenched my teeth. Each of my fellow Warriors’ faces reflected the seething anger raging inside of me. Once life drained from Sabrina, Khutu turned back to the camera. His mandibles parted and his mouth opened to let out his thick, grey, pointy tongue which slowly licked Sabrina’s blood off his fingers.
“I’m coming for your Soulcatcher, Legion. I will get all your females, and they will breed the next Swarm that will obliterate the Vanguard.”
With a final smirk, he turned to the hybrid, ordering him to clean up the mess, then walked out.
Chaos’ voice rose above the angry mutterings of our brothers assembled in the room.
“What is he doing?” he asked, looking at the hybrid.
He hadn’t moved from where he’d been standing, his fingers still drumming on his chest. However, he wasn’t looking at Sabrina but right beside her, where Zemun’s soul had been ejected upon her passing.
“Can he see his soul?” I asked, stunned. Only Xian Warriors and high level psychics could.
“I believe so, but that’s not what I meant.” Chaos pointed at the hybrid’s fingers. “The pattern isn’t random. It actually looks familiar.”
The hybrid turned to look straight at the camera, repeated what indeed appeared to be a pattern, and then dropped his hand as he turned towards Zemun to take down his body. The image cut-off and the screen turned black.
“Show me the playback of his fingers,” I ordered.
Arosh complied and replayed it slower, zooming the focus in on the image of the hybrid’s hand.
“Fuck me,” I whispered.
“It’s the old c
ode,” Arosh muttered. “How could he possibly know it?”
“He’s a young hybrid,” I said, semi-lost in thoughts. “Maybe twenty or twenty-one. His mother could have been among the Soulcatchers that had been captured on Dojenia.”
“Kryptid rebel?” Xenon asked, his voice dripping with doubt. “Those rumors of an organized rebellion sound more like a trap than anything else.”
Part of me concurred with him, but we couldn’t rule out the possibility of a real movement.
“What did his signs say?” Chaos asked.
I sighed, my brows drawn with concern. “He says there’s a traitor amidst our Soulcatchers.”
CHAPTER 1
Ayana
The black sea of the Xian Warrior’s eyes engulfed me. For a moment, I forgot how to breathe as I drowned in their depths. A sharp pain in my hand snapped me out of my trance.
“Go on, child! He’s calling you!” my mother whispered urgently with a tinge of embarrassment in her voice.
I blinked, my head jerking right to look at her, the way one does when still dazed after suddenly waking up.
“Right. Wish me luck,” I said, rubbing the side of my hand she had pinched.
I cast a nervous glance at my younger brother Levy on my left, who winked at me in encouragement. Under the mocking stares of the other Aspirants and the amused one of the Warrior, I approached the testing cabin he stood beside, the other four cabins currently occupied by other Aspirants.
It made no sense for me to make such a spectacle of myself. I’d been preparing for this for years. My psychic evaluations were off the charts which meant, unless my brain imploded somehow, I was guaranteed to get through. I wouldn’t qualify for the Soulcatcher program of the Vanguard—no black or Asian Aspirant ever did—but at least I’d make it as an Operator at either the Coalition HQ or better yet, at the Vanguard HQ.
My throat felt utterly dry as I stopped before the Xian Warrior. I’d fantasized about finally meeting one in the flesh from the first time I’d heard of them, but they far exceeded my expectations. Nearly seven feet tall, his skin-tight, sleeveless, black Vanguard shirt hid nothing of his rippling muscles. The dark uniform complemented the Xian’s yellowish-gold skin and gave a nice glimpse of the burnished-gold scales around his neck and down the curve of his shoulders.
“Greetings, Ayana Antoine,” the Warrior said with a deep, purring voice. “I am Hares of the Vanguard. It is my pleasure to administer the test to you today.”
“Hello, Hares. Pleased to meet you,” I said, glad my voice didn’t betray the chaos of emotions inside me.
His generous lips stretched into a friendly smile, and I tried not to stare at his features, mostly human if not for his larger-than-human eyes devoid of any white, and the scales around his cheeks and forehead.
He pointed at the cabin, the size of an outdoor shed. Dark as sin, it looked ominous in the big hall of the conference center used for the event.
“Your test will take place within this chamber,” Hares said. “As was explained to you during the registration process, you will be asked a number of questions that will escalate in difficulty. Sometimes you will hear a voice, other times you will see things. We will continue as long as you are able to perceive what is thrown at you or until you request a stop.”
His finger pointed at five symbols above the door of the chamber. I already knew what they meant—everyone did—but let him finish his spiel anyway.
“These will light based on your progress. You need at least two to qualify for a position within one of our outlying psychic divisions, three to join the Coalition HQ, and four to train for the Vanguard. Do you have any questions?” he asked.
“So, I just walk in and start talking out loud when I see or hear things?”
He chuckled. “Yes. Although there is a seat waiting for you within.” Hares waved his hand in front of the door, and it slid open. “I hope you’re not afraid of the dark,” he added with a teasing tone.
I wasn’t, but I also didn’t relish it. The trickle of light from the open door allowed me to see a black stool looking miserable and lonely in the middle of the rectangular space, maybe four meters long by three meters wide. During our ESP training, teachers often blindfolded us, but this took things to another level.
Not wanting to show the extent of my distress, I walked in with a false air of confidence, which earned me an approving look. I settled on the stool, almost expecting Hares to wish me happy nightmares before slamming the door shut with an evil laugh. Instead, he followed me in. Standing before me, he showed me three glow-in-the-dark nodes sitting in his palm.
I had forgotten about those.
He placed one on each of my temples and the last on my chest, right above my heart.
“You’re all set,” he said with a smile.
“Thank you,” I said, wishing I could come up with some other excuse to delay the inevitable.
Hares turned around to leave but paused and gave me an intense look. “Do not let all of this intimidate you, Ayana. Your ESP scores are the highest I’ve seen in a long time. Your training reports all come with high recommendations for your constancy, dedication, and hard work. You have this.”
My eyes widened at the unexpected, but most welcome pep talk. “Thanks. That’s very kind of you.”
He chuckled. “I don’t think it is so much kind as it is selfish. I like your aura,” he clarified in response to my confused expression. “You have the skills to get four lights. Get them, and we’ll have the opportunity to work together.”
He winked at me then left without another word. I stared at his receding back, slack-jawed.
Was he flirting with me?
As much as I wanted to dwell on the question, the door closing and the darkness swallowing me reminded me of the reason I had trained hard to get to this moment.
Thirty-two years ago, humanity had made first contact… or rather, some very nasty aliens had paid us a visit. We weren’t prepared for what hit us and didn’t have the technology to fight them. Millions died during battle or mass suicides, millions more were taken by the Kryptids, the insectoid invaders. When all seemed lost, the Xian Vanguard came to our rescue; a handful of Xian Warriors facing off against hundreds of Kryptids.
I was born during the Great Reconstruction, seven years after first contact, two years after the Kryptids finally gave up on conquering Earth. By then, our governments had signed an accord with the Galactic Coalition which united over a hundred worlds and countless species in an effort to eradicate the threat. As part of that accord, humans were to contribute troops and resources to the war efforts.
But they didn’t want soldiers, they wanted psychics. Our genetics gave us natural predispositions that could be enhanced by introducing an alien enzyme into our diet. With the assistance of the Coalition, it was included in our water and all organic products we consumed.
In the years that followed, a large percentage of the population began displaying extra-sensory powers, especially women. Contrary to our governments’ fears, conscription never became necessary. ESP Training centers overflowed with willing candidates. Only the most powerful made it in, and from those who completed the program, only a handful passed this test.
I intended to be among the handful that would succeed today.
The hall contained four other chambers like mine. Of the sixty candidates that had already gone through the test, more than half had gotten the minimum two lights, but only six had made it to three lights, and a single girl had qualified for the Vanguard. I prayed I would be the second at four lights.
“Only four?”
The voice startled a gasp out of me. It hadn’t come through any speaker but within my head, masculine, and somewhat gravelly. I tried not to dwell on the fact that he had been able to flat out read my mind.
“I am black. We’re unable to soulcatch. So I can only aim for four,” I said, feeling odd speaking out loud to a voice in my head.
“We found no genetic explanation for it. You
could be the first.”
I shrugged, even though he couldn’t see it in the darkness or wherever he was talking to me from. “I would obviously love that, but seeing how not a single other black or Asian candidate has succeeded in over twenty-five years, I’d rather set realistic expectations, and then be pleasantly surprised if they are exceeded.”
“Why do you wish to enroll?”
“Because I want to fight back. After what the Kryptids have done to Earth, let alone what would have happened without your intervention, I want to keep other worlds from going through what mine did.”
“Why do you care? While the Kryptids are busy with them, your people are safe.”
“That safety is an illusion. Sooner or later, they will be back. Except, this time, they will have beefed up their numbers from all those other worlds they will have assimilated. They need to be beaten back severely enough to cure them of their need for conquest.”
“Beat them back? Why not eradicate them?”
“Genocide is never the right solution,” I said, disturbed that he would even ask. “We don’t know that their civilians are on board with what their military is doing. Exterminating an entire species is wrong, even those bastards.”
Seconds ticked by with no response. My throat tightened and my stomach knotted. It couldn’t already be over. These questions would barely get me past the first light. I replayed my last answer in my head and found no fault with it. I shifted on my seat, each silent second exponentially increasing my anxiety levels.
I was about to call out when an image suddenly took form before me. It wasn’t so much an image as a 3D representation of a Xian ship. Tears of relief almost burst from my eyes.
“I see a Chaser Class 4,” I said out loud.
The male voice didn’t reply, but the image morphed into a different ship model each time I named it. By the fifth ship, my tension had all but disappeared. Finally in my element, I breezed through the images which cycled through both Xian and Kryptid ships, survival gear, weapons, and then various inhabited planets and some of the major capitals.