by Anna Carven
The scraping sound grated on his ears as it echoed throughout the passage, growing louder with every step. Kail drew his sword as he went deeper, ducking his head as the ceiling became lower and lower.
Some of the passages in this senseless structure were so narrow he had to hack at the stone with his blade, using its sharp Callidum edge to hew through the thick golden rock. The passages had obviously been designed with small-bodied Humans in mind, not tall, muscular Kordolian warriors. The whole structure was monolithic and impractical, and he couldn’t possibly fathom its purpose.
Kail reached the end of the tunnel, emerging into a cavernous space. The noise was impossibly loud now, amplified by the high walls of the chamber, which were decorated with strange symbols. A pair of crumbling twin statues guarded a hollowed out section of the wall. They were strange creatures, possessing Human bodies and animal heads. What were they supposed to be? Aliens, perhaps, or fictional deities?
Kail didn’t have time to contemplate the nature of the strange statues any further, because one of the animal heads exploded in a shower of pebbles and dust.
A black claw emerged through the stone, followed by a segmented black arm. Kail didn’t waste time. He crossed the floor and brought his long curved blade down, severing the arm at one of its many joints.
He danced back as a shrieking Xargek broke through the wall, foul-smelling yellow hemolymph dripping from its severed limb.
He’d drawn first blood, and now it was pissed.
The Xargek attacked, opening its gaping maw and screeching in rage as it rushed towards Kail. The putrid stench of its breath engulfed him as he dodged an attacking swipe. Its remaining claw sliced through the air, so close he felt the rush of air that trailed in its wake.
This was a mature Xargek, although the shininess of its carapace indicated it was freshly metamorphosed. Its exterior shell hadn’t yet had time to harden, making his task significantly easier.
Kail darted forward, his attack precise and calculated as he thrust his blade through one of the creature’s strange triangular eyes.
Callidum slid through chitin and membrane, piercing the Xargek’s brain. A strangled gurgle escaped its throat, and its shiny eyes began to fade as its life was extinguished.
Kail stepped aside as it fell forward, landing in a tangled pile of spindly legs on the dusty ground. Moments later, muttered curses reached his ears, followed by the sounds of fighting.
Another Xargek—this one fully matured—burst through the opening in the wall. An armored Kordolian came after it, his twin swords raised. He was in full battle kit, his face concealed beneath an impenetrable visor.
Debris spilled through the opening in their wake. A small avalanche of strange objects clattered out of the hole, accompanied by a plume of dust. Judging from the shapes and sizes of the skulls and bones, they were Human remains.
Kail stood aside and watched as his comrade engaged in fierce combat with the Xargek, dancing back and forth across the wide chamber. He recognized the warrior by his fighting style.
Lodan. Talented pilot, equally talented killer. All of them were good at the latter, and Lodan certainly didn’t need any assistance from Kail to take down this Xargek.
Their battle was stirring up the ancient dust. Kail stepped out of their path as Lodan’s blades glanced off the creature’s hard carapace. A low grunt of exertion escaped him as he dodged the Xargek’s attacking thrust. Lodan changed direction, turning his back on the Xargek as he sprinted towards a narrow corner.
Kail snorted softly as he realized what the warrior was about to do. He wouldn’t have anticipated such an unconventional move.
Lodan gained speed, becoming a dark blur as he reached the corner. He used his momentum to sprint up the stone walls, his feet hitting irregular ridges in the stone. Once he had gained sufficient height, he twisted mid-air and dropped, his swords extended.
He landed on the Xargek’s back, slamming his blades into the weak point at the base of its head, but not before it had attacked him with its giant foreclaws, angling them backwards in a mad swipe that caught Lodan in his side.
The warrior grunted in pain as the Xargek collapsed underneath him. He rolled off its carapace, crashing into the dust where he lay flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling.
Kail walked over to Lodan and squatted down on his haunches beside him. The nanite particles that made up Lodan’s unique armor swarmed over the gaping wound in his torso, repairing his damaged flesh.
Lodan retracted his helm, wincing.
“I used the last of the plasma-protein shots back on the freighter,” Kail informed him in a matter-of-fact tone. “Try not to get stabbed in the viscera again. It would be a pain-in-the-ass.”
“It’s just a scratch.” Lodan waved his hand dismissively. He stared up at Kail, his orange eyes glinting in the darkness. “I’ve survived worse.”
“Haven’t we all,” Kail said dryly, sheathing his sword.
“Gotta take a hit now and then to score a kill, especially with these monsters.” Lodan’s eyes narrowed as he regarded Kail. “You should rest, brother. This sun on this cursed planet fries the brain and drains the body. I don’t know how you’re still killing Xargek so efficiently after sitting up there in the heat of the sun.”
“The climate is an annoyance, nothing more,” Kail said, rising to his full height as Lodan sat up, propping himself on his elbows. “You are the second one to tell me to rest.” Suspicion crept into his voice. They all knew how he operated. Kail had little need for rest. For some reason, he slept very little—much less than the others—and it didn’t seem to make a difference to his functioning. “What is this about?”
“Ah, shit. I thought you knew. We have a mission request. We need you to find them.”
“We?” Kail’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “And who do you want me to find?” Since when had the others decided such things without his consent? The only person he took orders from was the General.
“We all know the explosion on the mining station wasn’t an accident. An unidentified party tried to kill us, and the orders came from someone on this planet. It isn’t something we can allow to go unpunished.”
Kail nodded, staring intently at his comrade. “Revenge must be sought.” It was only natural. To a Kordolian, revenge was sacred. Whoever was behind the explosion obviously didn’t understand how the Universe worked. If they did, they would have made sure their plan had succeeded at all costs. “I would gladly deliver it, but how does one expect to navigate this infernal planet without the proper resources? We haven’t even colonized it yet.”
“You’re the temanjin, the Hunter, the bringer of justice,” Lodan said, a trace of irony entering his voice. “You’ve done this kind of thing before, many times.”
“Not on a backwater like this.” Kail shook his head. The solo missions he’d completed in the past had been different. They’d been carried out on worlds that were well mapped, well within the Empire’s sphere of influence.
Under General Tarak’s orders, he’d been a tracker, retriever, spy, and occasionally, an executioner. He was very good at what he did, and he was comfortable infiltrating worlds where there was at least some Kordolian influence.
For some reason, he had a knack for getting others to co-operate, and he could easily differentiate a lie from truth. Kail sensed things that others didn’t. He’d always been that way.
But navigating Earth was different. It was unknown territory. “I’m not a foreign species expert,” he growled. The thought of having to associate with Humans was making him irritable. “What do you expect me to do?”
“Ry tells me there’s a Human who can help you navigate this society. He seems confident she can find you a lead. She’s supposed to be some sort of expert in the art of information gathering.”
“A Human,” Kail said flatly, his lips curving into a frown. His eyes narrowed. “She?”
“You would have encountered her briefly on the freighter. She’s Arin’s subor
dinate.”
“Hm.” He suspected he knew who Lodan was talking about. He’d caught her looking at him when she thought he wasn’t aware. Her molten brown eyes had been wide and curious; she’d stared at him as if she’d never seen a fucking Kordolian before.
In turn, he’d stolen a glance at her, wondering what kind of self-respecting military outfit would push such untrained soldiers into its ranks.
Ah, she had been… interesting to look at.
Full lips, soft eyes, soft skin, slender limbs, and curves in all the appropriate places. A lush mass of dark curls framed her heart-shaped face. She was the opposite of his kind in every way, and yet Humans and Kordolians were uncannily similar. He had to admit, she was not unattractive for a Human.
Oh, but despite the gun holstered at her waist, she was no soldier. Her fear had been obvious, even though she’d tried to hide it. Her body language had given her away. She’d watched him cautiously, skittishly, the way a vulnerable creature might regard a predator.
At least her survival instincts were intact. She’d been right to be wary of him.
“What’s with that scary look?” Lodan glanced up at Kail as he ran a hand over his healed wound. His silver skin had knitted together, leaving no trace of the savage injury. A lopsided smile crossed his face. “Don’t kill the messenger, temanjin.”
Kail glowered. That title didn’t sit well with him. In the language of the Lost Tribes, temanjin meant hunter of souls, seeker of truth, and deliverer of justice. The fancy title was mostly lost on him, but whenever he heard the word, a certain restlessness gnawed at him, amplified by the strange void in his memories. Perhaps he had been this thing once, but like the others, the Empire had ruined him, and he had little recollection of his past life.
Only the intricate markings he bore, the ritual scars that swirled across his face, neck, arms, and back, gave any clue as to what he had once been. They were so distinctive, so unmistakable, that nobody had doubted his origins.
“I’m no temanjin,” Kail muttered gruffly, unsure why he felt uneasy all of a sudden. “And I don’t work with Humans.”
“You might want to reconsider. I hear that getting friendly with the natives comes with certain… benefits.” The corners of Lodan’s fiery eyes crinkled in amusement.
Kail snorted. Getting friendly with the natives wasn’t on his list of priorities.
“I hear it’s cold on the other side of this planet. A good climate for revenge,” Lodan said softly, rising to his feet. He reached across and yanked his blades out of the Xargek’s carcass, flicking the gunk off them with a sharp snap of his wrists before sheathing them at his back. “Think of the upside. You get to traipse around the planet hunting down our enemies while the rest of us suffer in this Kaiin-forsaken sweltering wasteland. This Xargek hunting business gets repetitive after a while. I might need to find my own Human soon, just to break the monotony.”
Lodan had a point, but Kail still didn’t see how he was going to be able to track down the perpetrators on this overcrowded mess called Earth. “I haven’t agreed to anything yet,” he growled, his irritation growing. “Do not make assumptions on my behalf, brother.”
Lodan replied with an ironic left-handed salute. “I wouldn’t dare. That’s the General’s job.”
Kail offered a sharp nod of agreement. Tarak al Akkadian was the only one he would accept orders from, and right now, the General was nowhere near this Kaiin-forsaken sector.
Chapter Three
The subterranean hoverail was crowded, and Riana thrust her hands into her pockets as she boarded the train. It was standing room only, a dense wall of bodies packing the carriage from end to end. Nobody made eye contact. The cabin was claustrophobic. Thankfully, her brother’s apartment—where she was crashing for the time being—was only one stop away.
The stress of her recent encounter with the Federation authorities lingered in her mind; despite her outward calmness, her heart was beating rapidly, her palms were moist, and she couldn’t help but feel that she was being watched.
But then again, she always felt uneasy in crowded places, and it didn’t help that there was now a damn monitoring chip embedded in her right upper arm.
Before she had time to contemplate the details of her newly restricted freedom, the hoverail came to a smooth stop. Its motion stabilizers and noise suppressors were faultless. She hadn’t even realized it had departed the station, hadn’t realized it was moving until she reached her destination.
“Ikebukuro station,” a bland voice announced in Universal. It was the same voice that had droned from the speakers in her interrogation room, the same generic voice the Federation used for all standard public announcements.
Riana stepped off the hoverail and made her way through the crowds, heading for the exit. The tag-gate automatically registered her bio-sig as she passed, taking payment from her depleted credit account. She tugged on a pair of thermal Syntech gloves as she reached the exit and pulled a scarf of simulated wool from her bag, wrapping it around her neck and the lower half of her face.
She pushed past grey-suited businessmen and grey-uniformed schoolchildren. She dodged an intimidating trio of winged Avein males and ignored an irritating sales-bot that was trying to sell her some sort of longevity cream. The smooth, organic tones of an old-fashioned electric guitar floated to her from somewhere in the distance, providing a warm contrast to the colorless surroundings.
Bracing herself, she stepped out into the cold. It was snowing, a rare occurrence in Neo Tokyo. Riana looked up and saw specks of white powder drifting down from the grey sky. Above her, delivery drones and the occasional hover-car sped along the skyroads, navigating between the towering, hyper-lit superscrapers.
She made her way down a familiar side-stree, where the warm, familiar smell of oden, a hearty Japanese winter soup, permeated the air. Riana’s stomach growled, but she didn’t stop at the automated vendor, not wanting to be caught out on the narrow street.
A strange sensation crawled over her scalp, coursing down her neck and spine. Maybe she was just being paranoid, but it felt like she was being followed. Riana hurried down the narrow alley until she reached a soaring residential tower. As she stepped into one of the levitation pods in the entry foyer, the pinpoint blue scanning lasers of the bot-guard flickered across her face.
She didn’t have to input any further commands. Her bio-data had been encoded into the levi-pod’s Resident Recognition System, and it elicited a soft series of beeps as the doors closed. The pod sped upwards, the outside world becoming a blur as it shot past rows of colorless, modular apartments. They reminded her of giant stacked building blocks.
The levi-pod slowed as it reached the forty-first floor, coming to a stop then gliding sideways until Riana was outside apartment 4113. The doors slid open, admitting a blast of frigid air, but for some reason the levi-pod had stopped a couple of meters away from the balcony.
Strange. She expected it to move forward and bridge the gap, but it didn’t budge.
“You have arrived at residence 4113. You may now exit the pod.”
A gaping chasm stretched between the levi-pod and the flat snow-covered ledge of the balcony. It was far enough that the balcony’s auto-gates had failed to activate. Perhaps she could jump the gap and trust the gates would open in time, but there was all kinds of danger in trying to land on a slippery ledge, especially when it was forty-one stories above ground level.
To her disbelief, the pod had made an error. The levi-pods never screwed up. They were practically failsafe.
“Realign,” she commanded, fighting her rising panic. Instead of adjusting its distance, the levi-pod ignored her command and tilted violently. Riana lost her footing. Thrown off balance, she slid forward, desperately trying to find some sort of handhold. She had no choice but to drop her handbag. It slipped away, disappearing into the cold, dark void below.
“Shit,” Riana gasped. The levi-pod was trying to dump her out. She scrambled backwards, trying to regain her
balance, but it was no use. The floor of the thing was damn slippery, thanks to the melting snowflakes scattered across its seamless surface. “Realign, you stupid machine!”
If Riana tumbled out those doors, she was dead.
Forcing herself to look down despite her overwhelming fear, she thought hard and fast.
She was falling.
There was nothing to hold onto. Forty-one floors of cold air stretched between her and the street below.
But there was a balcony below her, and if she angled her body, just a little…
The floor of the levi-pod was almost at a forty-five degree angle now, and Riana had no choice but to go with the inevitable. She plunged downwards, thrusting her legs in front of her as she tried to generate forward momentum.
As the pod spat her out into mid-air, she bucked violently, falling feet-first towards the balcony on the fortieth floor. Before she’d joined the peacekeepers, she never would have managed such a maneuver, but twelve months of training onboard a mining station in High Earth Orbit had honed her physical abilities.
She’d acted on instinct.
The auto-gates snapped open as she crashed onto the balcony feet-first, her knees and ankles crumpling beneath her. The force of the impact took her breath away. Sharp pain lanced through her left ankle and she cried out, her voice hoarse and ragged.
She was lying on the hard surface with her head between the auto-gates. A split-second after she sat up, the auto-gates snapped shut, catching a small tuft of her curly hair. Burning pain ripped through her scalp as her hair was torn away.
“Aargh!” she gasped, the aftermath of her almost-death experience sending a chill through her. If she hadn’t sat up just now, the auto-gates would have crushed her head like a sideways guillotine.
Her heart hammering, Riana shook her head in disbelief. What the hell? Auto-gates never closed when a person or body part was between them. It was unthinkable.