“That seems correct,” Evonne said.
Riot stuffed her face with another mouthful of burrito before deciding to take the burrito with her in one hand and her coffee in another. Riot walked from her room toward the rear of the Valkyrie, where she was supposed to meet Rippa.
A thought to go and check in on Vet crossed her mind, but Wang or Doctor Miller would let her know if there was any change, she was sure of it.
Riot passed an empty cargo bay, while Vikta was probably out patrolling the skies around the Dreadnaught. Rippa was sitting on the edge of the Valkyrie’s open cargo bay ramp. She was showered and changed, as well. A grey uniform hugged her body, her bright red hair just as wet as Riot’s.
The major stared in silence, her view directed out of the hangar bay force field that showed a setting sun over the red pane of Raydon. She was calm, though bags hung below her tired eyes.
“The Karnayers are as much to blame for this as anyone else,” Rippa spoke, still staring out into the orange-hued horizon. “They may not have pulled the trigger, but they gave the Zenoth the weapons. They killed not only Ragnar, but also the other two strike teams we sent in that failed to take out the Zenoth transport ships. There are teams on Raydon still digging out Grovothe bodies from the two other hives.”
“You’re not going to get any argument from me,” Riot said, thinking back on her own past with the Karnayers. She placed her coffee and burrito on a crate in the cargo bay. “The Karnayers have been at the center of all of our problems, thus far.”
Rippa rose from her seat. There was something past anger in her eyes, something Riot understood well. Wrath and revenge were on Rippa’s mind. “I’m going to kill them, Riot. I’m going to wipe the House of Karn from the history books.”
72
Riot fell in step with Rippa as the two women left the Valkyrie and headed for the meeting with Admiral Tricon and the Zenoth that was apparently capable of communicating with them.
As usual, the hangar was a rolling mass of Grovothe engineers making repairs on ships. Various Warwings and Archangel transport ships came in and out from running their missions on Raydon.
As Rippa and Riot made their way to the meeting, Riot couldn’t help asking Rippa to elaborate on her previous statement. “Are the Admiral and the rest of the Grovothe brass going to give the green light with engaging a Karnayer ruling family?”
Rippa led Riot down two flights of stairs and a long hall that sloped down.
“They will. I’ll make them see it has to be done,” Rippa said, her voice so menacing, it caught Riot by surprise.
The way Rippa was feeling was normal after losing a soldier. The Riot from a few months ago would have agreed with Rippa, maybe even stoking the fires and urging her on. Maybe even not saying a word. The woman Riot was becoming told her she should say something.
Great, Riot thought as a dozen different comforting words came to mind, each sounding worse in her own head than the last. You’ve got to say something.
“We’re not going to let them get away with this.” Riot lifted a hand to place on Rippa’s shoulder. The two women walking side by side made the act awkward. Riot was about to put her hand down, then rethought it and retracted her palm.
“What are you doing?” Rippa stopped in the hall and looked at Riot with a awkward glare. “Were you going to pat me on the shoulder?”
“What? No, no, no. No way. Why would you even think that?” Riot asked, leaning back to further prove her point. “That would be weird and so out of my character.”
Riot stared at the shorter Grovothe for the space of a handful of heartbeats before she shrugged and walked down the hall. “Well, are you coming? Because I have no idea where I’m going.”
Rippa huffed, catching up to Riot and led her into the ship’s labyrinth of corridors once more.
“I’m just saying, I’ve got your back,” Riot said, unable to let the conversation go. “My recommendation to SPEAR once we head back to Earth is going to be to hunt down this Karnayer faction. I don’t think we’ll get any grief from the Trilords. Ketrick’s people want them dead just as much as we do.”
“Good,” Rippa grunted.
The two women continued on, always heading deeper into the ship’s underbelly. The floor under their feet felt like thin carpet, the lights overhead set into the ceilings, the walls a plain grey.
Finally, Rippa came to a stop by a pair of doors guarded by two Grovothe soldiers in grey uniforms. They saluted when they saw who approached.
Riot returned the salute, as did Rippa.
“Admiral Tricon asked that you join him in the viewing room first,” one of the guards said as he opened the door behind him. “He’s waiting inside.”
Rippa didn’t say anything. She walked inside the open door.
Riot nodded to the two guards, who looked up at her with something like a mix of wonder and admiration. The guard on her left, a muscular Grovothe with a long, black beard, coughed into his hand, then turned as bright red as a ripe tomato.
“Sorry, Captain—Warrant Officer Riot,” the Grovothe regained his composure. “My cousin—Brimley—she serves in the Spartan mech unit. She told us what happened down there.”
“Is it true you charged the Zenoth queen with a sledgehammer?” the other guard butted in, saving his friend from stumbling over any more words. “And you were on foot with no support?”
“I heard the Zenoth queen spits acid and has two heads. How did you do that?” Brimley’s cousin asked in awe.
Great. Fan boys, Riot said to herself. No, not boys. Fan Grovothe. They think you’re some kind of hero.
“It’s what had to be done,” Riot said, reliving the moments of battle already. They were nightmares she would take with her to the grave. “She was twenty feet tall, by the way, with a row of spikes around her head.”
The two Grovothes’ jaws dropped open as Riot entered the room. Inside the room was a plain glass window to the left showing the view into a holding room where a particularly small Zenoth sat chained to the wall.
Besides Rippa, there were two other officers in the viewing room—Admiral Tricon and the intelligence officer Riot recognized as Jaroth.
Jaroth sat at a desk with a holographic screen monitoring the creature in the next room. Everything was watched, from its pulse to its breathing pattern.
“Glad you could make it.” Admiral Tricon motioned Riot to close the door behind her. “I wish I could give you more time to rest, but as you can imagine, time is a luxury at the moment.”
“I understand,” Riot said as she closed the door to the room. “I was told the Zenoth is able to communicate?”
“That’s right.” Admiral Tricon looked over at Jaroth who sat at the table, adjusting settings on his monitoring equipment. “I’d butcher the exact words on how it’s able to do this. I’ll hand it over to our intelligence officer to explain.”
Jaroth still sat in his chair, his attention solely on the screen in front of him, with the Zenoth in the adjoining room.
“Jaroth, that’s you,” the admiral said just under a shout.
Jaroth jumped from his desk. “Yes, right, sorry, sir. It’s just that, well … we’re in uncharted territory here.”
“Start from the beginning,” Rippa said as she leaned against the opposite wall of the glass window. “I want to hear it all.”
“Right.” Jaroth looked between Riot and Rippa as he began his explanation. “We’ve studied the Zenoth species in-depth for years now. As we’ve monitored them to make sure they remained on their planet, we’ve discovered they are still a primitive species able to communicate with one another, but not capable of fashioning weapons, and far from space travel.”
“But the Karnayers fixed that,” Rippa said, bristling at the mention of the alien species she held responsible for Ragnar’s death.
“Right.” Jaroth went to the window and pointed at the lone Zenoth. “It seems the Karnayer left a messenger, as well.”
The Zenoth was slump
ed against the corner of the room. Six chains, one for each of its arms, ensured it wasn’t going anywhere. The segmented body and black eyes looked identical to the thousands Riot had seen earlier that day. Riot was about to ask Jaroth what he was pointing to, when she saw it.
The thin, gold band around the creature’s neck was nearly hidden by the way its head connected to the middle of its body. The gold band glowed with a green hue. Riot had seen this type of decoration before when she fought the dragons on Ketrick’s world of Hoydren.
Karnayer technology or magic allowed them to control various species.
“They’re manipulating and talking through this Zenoth,” Riot said, putting all of the puzzle pieces together. “More exactly, Alveric from the house of Karn is probably speaking through this Zenoth.”
“Do you think they were all tagged like this?” Rippa asked anyone with an answer. “They were all controlled in fighting us?”
“No, more than likely the Karnayers chose a handful from each hive to share a link with so they could monitor the Zenoth and aid them in creating their ships and weapons.” Jaroth crossed his arms over his hefty frame and stared at the Zenoth in the other room. “I can’t wait to get my hands on the Karnayer tech and see what I can learn from it, but we thought it prudent to allow the Karnayers to deliver their message first.”
“And he wants to talk to me,” Riot said, summing up the last phrase on Jaroth’s lips. “Ever since I threw his brother into a pit, he’s been gunning for me. He was the one attacking your ship when we arrived.”
“Alveric and Remus are the heads of the House of Karn, the rogue arm of the Karnayer government,” the Admiral said as his finger traced the scar on the right side of his head. “Warrant Officer Riot, I can only ask that you go in and speak with him. Whatever he has to tell you may give us a clue on what happens next.”
“What happens next is that we find and crush that Karnayer scum and his entire house,” Rippa spat as if the words tasted of venom. “Admiral, I want to go after him right away and…”
Her voice died under the harsh glare from her superior.
“I’m with you on this.” Admiral Tricon looked at Rippa with solemn eyes. “Ragnar was the best of us. I am going to motion that we hunt down Alveric and his contingent of Karnayers, but the more information we have before we do this, the better.”
Rippa looked ashamed for a moment. The expression was soon overtaken by a grim determination once more. “I’m sorry, sir. I understand, of course.”
Riot understood exactly how Rippa felt. More than a few times she had been caught in a similar position, driven by her emotions.
“I’ll go talk to the Zenoth,” Riot said, already turning to leave the room.
“Do you want an escort?” Jaroth asked from his spot next to the one-way glass window. “We have two guards at the door who can go in with you.”
“I’m a big Marine,” Riot said, winking at the short, pudgy Grovothe. “I’ll be fine.”
Riot left the room, nodding to her fan club as she went back into the hall and turned to open the door next to the one she had just exited. Riot released the reinforced door. It was heavy, and swung open with a click.
The lights in this room were brighter than she expected. No furniture, just the chained Zenoth in the corner of the room. With its impossibly inky black eyes, there was no telling if it tracked her movement as she entered the holding cell, but Riot had a feeling it was watching her with more than just mellow interest.
The door closed behind her with another loud click as safety features bolted her inside.
“Well, you wanted to see me, Alveric,” Riot said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Are you ready to surrender yourself? I mean, we squashed your little bug allies like a bad habit. You have to know we’re coming for you next.”
The Zenoth’s pincers twitched. It rose to its feet, the chains around its legs keeping it from traveling any farther. Alveric’s voice she recognized from their brief conversation after the battle in space above Raydon came through the Zenoth’s throat. It was a bit harsher, like the Zenoth was gargling with a mouthful of gravel, but it was him.
“Warrant Officer Riot, ever the impetuous voice in the face of annihilation,” Alveric said, speaking through the Zenoth. “I see you’ve figured out how we are using the Zenoth. I have to admit, I didn’t know if you were mentally capable of connecting the dots.”
“Oh yeah, my daddy didn’t raise no fool.” Riot smiled. She wasn’t sure if Alveric could see her, but in the end, it didn’t matter. She had no desire to keep the conversation going longer than needed. “You were requesting my presence? Did you need another reassuring that an ass-whooping is coming your way?”
Alveric laughed, a horrible sound that resembled something like acrylic nails being scraped across a chalkboard. “I’m going to enjoy hearing you scream.”
“Well, I’m not really into all that kinky stuff.” Riot sighed. “Listen, I’m not saying I don’t enjoy our chats, but, well … I don’t enjoy our chats. If you don’t have anything important to tell me, I have a cold breakfast burrito I left somewhere.”
“I just wanted to tell you that your end is near. I know you consider what you did on Raydon a victory, but let that victory turn to ash in your mouth. All those you care about will be made to suffer in front of your eyes, the Trilords included.”
“Now why would you go and say such a horrible thing like that?” Riot said, feigning indignation. “I don’t think I want to be your friend. And if that’s all you want to tell me, I have better things to do with my time.”
Riot turned on her heel to leave the room.
“I’m coming for you Warrant Officer Riot!” The Zenoth’s screaming voice followed her out of the room. “I’m coming for you!”
73
I was hoping that conversation would be more helpful,” Jaroth said in the meeting room the Admiral, Riot, and Rippa had been shown to after Riot’s talk with Alveric.
The foursome sat in the same chamber as before when Riot’s team had first arrived on the Dreadnaught.
“I think he gave us everything we needed to know.” Admiral Tricon looked to Riot. “Wouldn’t you say?”
Riot understood exactly what the admiral was referring to. The Karnayers’ need to intimidate and play mind games had tipped his hand. Yes, he wanted Riot dead, but he wanted her to suffer first. He also mentioned his brother again.
“He’ll attack Hoydren,” Riot said, as matter of factly as if she had read the headline from a holographic report. “It frees his brother, deals a blow to our alliance, and at the same time, he’ll finish his brother’s mission of capturing the dragons and turning them into weapons.”
The admiral nodded along with Riot’s words.
Rippa and Jaroth looked on with in part confusion, part respect, and part awe.
“You got all of that from the conversation you had?” Rippa asked.
“She’s right,” Admiral Tricon said, standing up from his chair. “I’m going to contact the Grovothe chain of command and see what I can do about solidifying an alliance with both Earth and Hoydren. If I can do that, I can get permission to move the Dreadnaught into a defensive position above Hoydren.”
“Getting a decree to allow a new race, much less two races, into the Grovothe alliance could take months.” Jaroth scratched the underside of his jaw.
“I’ll do everything in my power to make it happen as quick as possible, but we have to respect the process,” Admiral Tricon said, this last part directed more to Rippa than anyone else. “Major, I know you're yearning for a fight, and trust me, so am I, but we have to play by the rules.”
“I understand, sir.” Rippa looked over to Riot with a question in her eyes. “Much like Ketrick is the emissary for the Trilords, I request to be the Grovothe emissary to Earth. I can act as a go-between as the alliance is solidified between our two races.”
Riot’s eyebrows rose as if they had a mind of their own. She didn’t hate the idea of Rip
pa traveling with them, but it was anything but expected. The Grovothe major had only just begun to warm up to Ketrick. Before this conversation, Riot wasn’t even sure how Rippa felt about her.
“If Warrant Officer Riot is willing to take you on board, I don’t see a reason I should stop you.” Admiral Tricon looked over to Riot with questioning eyes. “If you need time to consider Major Gunna’s request, I understand.”
“She can come,” Riot blurted out so fast, it sounded like one word. “I’ve seen her fight. I know what she stands for. That’s enough for me.”
Rippa didn’t say a word, but her face was worth a thousand thank yous. Her eyes were bright, the corners of her mouth twitched as she tried to hold back her smile.
“Well then, it sounds like we all have work that needs to be done.” Admiral Tricon stood from his seat. “If we’re right, there’s another battle on the horizon. We need to prepare.”
Riot returned to the Valkyrie in a haze. Exhaustion wasn’t even the right word anymore. She had forced her brain and body to the point of autopilot. She could go on for hours on end this way. Lucky for her, she wouldn’t have to. The promise of sleep was within reach.
Riot walked up the open cargo bay doors, only to be greeted by a red-eyed but smiling Doctor Miller. She had also changed out of her armor, into her uniform. Her blonde hair fell behind her in a curtain, her black-framed glasses slid down her nose.
“Vet’s going to be okay.” Doctor Miller hugged herself as if she knew hugging Riot was out of the question and this was her consolation prize. “He’s awake now. Wang and Rizzo are with him.”
Riot felt a tension in her shoulders she hadn’t known she was holding, disappear. Her shoulders literally fell an inch on either side of her neck. “That’s great news, thanks Bub—Doctor Miller.”
“What’s with calling me by my actual name? I was getting used to you calling me Bubbles or Cupcake or Sunshine.” Doctor Miller raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Is something wrong?”
War Wolves: Boxset 1-3 Page 35