Wraithkin (The Kin Wars Saga Book 1)

by Jason Cordova

  “You’re insane! Tell the shuttle commander to come get us!”

  “I can’t.”

  “Yes you can!”

  “No. No, I can’t...and I won’t.”

  “Please...don’t leave us here,” a voice whimpered in Gabriel’s ear. “Don’t leave us here to die. You promised.”

  “I have to save the civilians,” Gabriel insisted. “They’re my priority. Our priority.”

  “Please. I see the Abassi. They have their scythes out. Please. Come get us. Please. I’m begging you.”

  “I can’t. Those Sharks will shoot us out of the sky.”

  “I don’t want to die.”

  “I’m sorry,” Gabriel whispered. The other Wraiths began to scream for help, to curse him and his name, his family, everything they could think of. Gabriel watched via their suit feeds as the Abassi slowly advanced through withering gunfire, the alien’s sheer determination working against the Wraiths. The men he had abandoned on the desolate planet began to scream as their ammunition ran dry and the Abassi began to hack into their suits. Gabriel killed the video link and leaned back, resting his back against the hull of the shuttle as it streaked out of the atmosphere and into clear space.

  Their screams continued to assault his ears until Gabriel killed the audio link. He remained silent the rest of the way to the Eye of Solomon, wondering, thinking...

  Praying.

  He hoped he would one day find a small shred of forgiveness; he doubted he would ever be able to fully forgive himself.

  Chapter Sixteen

  They were Imperfects. What did their deaths matter, really?

  Gabriel popped the seals on his suit as the jelly which protected him slid down to his feet and disappeared. He stayed within the friendly and familiar confines of his suit, however, and inhaled the stale air of the ship, his first breath without his oxygen mask in days. He closed his eyes as his emotions threatened to well up. He took a deep, calming breath.

  They had been nothings, like he. Their deaths did not matter. So then why did he feel such shame at his own survival? There was a term for what he was feeling, an ancient term that once had laid a stigma on the warrior.

  For some Wraiths, the implant nodule allowed them to read for the first time, to give them some sort of recreation they had lacked before they joined the Corps. If they were so inclined, they could take the time and read anything available within their kernel nodes. Millions of books were available, and Gabriel had recognized the opportunity he had been given, as the implant had opened up paths to knowledge he never would have considered in the past. Military records and texts he had never shown an interest in before were now at his disposal, the writings easily accessible and waiting for him.

  He began to rifle through his node, searching for anything which could have overruled the shuttle commander’s orders. He couldn’t recall any instance that a Wraith commander had countermanded an order given by any Perfect in the military, but he had never really looked into it before. It was something that did not come naturally to an Imperfect, any sort of defiance.

  But he had not always been an Imperfect. Going with the flow, kowtowing to the authority of a Perfect, was not something he had ever had to do until recently. He had the inner conditioning to resist being controlled, to fight the rule of order. His parents had raised him to be independent.

  His eyes widened as he found a small kernel buried deep within the subroutine command protocols. He didn’t read Latin, but the Leviathan cortex translated it for him. It allowed him an option, one he had never thought possible, gave him hope when he thought he had given it all up.

  He had found a way to rescue her. But he needed a reason, a real one, and not a fantasy hope. If he was going to die, he wanted to be sure.

  He stepped out of his suit and looked at the others in his squad. After ninety straight hours of continuous action and battle, he had expected them to be completely exhausted and a generally quiet atmosphere in the loading bay. He was quite surprised when they exited their suits and seemed to be filled with boundless energy.

  “Damn, that was some piece of work!” Twist exclaimed the moment he was out of his suit. His energy was completely at odds to what Gabriel had been expecting. “I never seen an Abassi cruiser get taken down before! You just shot it down and walked away, like some kind of badass superhero or something!”

  Gabriel shook his head, slightly embarrassed. “I only did what needed to be done.”

  “Omelet, that was the most amazing thing I’d ever seen!” Esau said as he smacked his shoulder.

  “Twist, Beeker, take control of security for the civvies and get them checked out in sick bay,” Gabriel ordered, shaking off the immense rush of feelings. He needed to be in control of them, not vice versa. “Have the corpsmen check them out. Get them bedded down, in Wraith berthing, and stand guard. I don’t want some asshole Navy guy taking advantage of the women.”

  “Got it,” Twist said. He followed Beeker out of the bay to where the civilians had gathered. Gabriel watched them go before he looked back at Esau.

  “What now?” Esau asked as the last of the suit jelly dissipated.

  “I need to go talk to some of the civvies,” Gabriel said. “Did you talk to them at all?”

  “You know I didn’t,” Esau reminded him. “None of us did. Why do you need to talk to them though?”

  “Well,” Gabriel began, but paused. How far involved do I get my friends, he wondered. “I need to get information about their capture. And what else they were doing.”

  “The Abassi?” Esau asked. Gabriel nodded.

  “I want to know if this is isolated, them taking prisoners.” Gabriel said. Esau’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

  “Omelet, what’re you planning?”

  “Nothing. Yet.”

  “Gabriel...”

  “Don’t worry,” Gabriel said, trying to comfort his friend. “I just want to get some information out of them before the Deebs get their hands on them.”

  “You think the Deebs knew about all this?”

  “No,” Gabriel shook his head. “I want to know why they knew nothing about any of this. None of the experiments, whatever they were growing in that lab I blew up. Did they know about the...proto-humans? I need to know.”

  “Okay,” Esau said, the word drawn out as he sighed. “Just watch yourself.”

  Gabriel nodded and left the docking bay, following the lit hallway of the ship until he reached the smaller berthing area of the Wraiths, which was now mostly empty. The few survivors from the planet were berthed together, with Beeker and Twist standing nearby. No Navy personnel were nearby, though Gabriel guessed it wouldn’t be too long before they started sniffing around. It was something he needed to speak to the captain about, considering he was now the ranking Wraith on the ship.

  The men and women were settling in to their accommodations, the berthing area a tight fit for the dozen. Gabriel tracked down the man he had spoken with on the planet, the one who had told him about the Praelictor. The man looked up at him with a wary expression as he approached.

  “My name is Gabriel, and I’m the Wraith Commander.”

  “Look, I thought he was still alive,” the man apologized as he tried to back away. The narrow confines of the berthing area, however, left him nowhere to go. “He was alive when I saw him!”

  “I’m not here about that,” Gabriel said. He motioned for the man to sit on the bottom bunk. “I have other questions, and I need them answered in a hurry.”

  “About what?” the man asked.

  “Well, for starters, what’s your name?”

  “Sarawut,” the man said. “Sarawut Mupak. But everyone calls me Sar.”

  “Okay,” Gabriel nodded. “I’m Gabriel, Sar. I’m sorry about how I acted on the planet.”

  “You don’t sound like any Wraith I’ve ever heard of,” Sarawut admitted.

  “We’re not all mindless killing machines,” Gabriel said.

  “I guess not,” Sarawut agree
d. “So what do you want to know?”

  “Well,” Gabriel paused, struggling to find the right words. “How well did you know the facility you were being held captive in?”

  “The cloning facility? Not very well,” Sarawut admitted. “They kept us away from the lab, but we all talked to each other and shared info about what we saw and heard. They didn’t let us outside, but we did see a lot of the labs, since that was where they drew our blood. Talked a lot with their...scientists, I guess is what they call them. Did you know the Abassi language is very close to ancient Thai? It’s weird.”

  “Wait, back up,” Gabriel stared hard at the man. “Cloning?”

  “Yeah, cloning,” Sarawut nodded emphatically. “The aliens are obsessed with our body structure for some reason. They want to see how we tick, so they’re cloning us, and then experimenting. They were looking for something special in us, but I don’t know what.”

  “But were they harming you or the other captives?”

  “Harm? No,” Sarawut shook his head. “Not at all. They actually went out of their way to keep us alive and healthy. It was sort of weird, you know. I’m a man of history, and I’ve never heard of an occupying force coming in and trying to make things better for the inhabitants.”

  “You haven’t read enough history, then,” Gabriel said. “Thanks for all your help, Sarawut. You’ve cleared up a few things for me.”

  He walked out of the berthing area and saw two of the ship’s masters-at-arms had taken over security from Twist and Beeker. He motioned for the two Wraiths.

  “Stay nearby and keep an eye out for any sign of trouble,” Gabriel quietly ordered, his mind racing.

  “Expecting any?” Beeker asked.

  “Not yet, but potentially,” Gabriel said. “Just keep an eye out. I need to find Esau.”

  “Back in the prep room,” Twist said. “He’s checking his suit. Said something about a servo coming loose during the last fight with the Abassi.”

  “Thanks,” Gabriel nodded and made his way towards the prep room, where the Wraith suits for his squad were stored.

  He found Esau tinkering with a small servo motor in his hand, testing the reloading mechanism of the Lynx on his suit’s right arm. His back to Gabriel, he sat on a small stool while leaning against his battle-scarred suit. Gabriel watched him for a moment before clearing his throat. The taller man turned and grunted.

  “Feed’s sticking a little,” he explained. He put the servo motor aside. “What’s up?”

  “The aliens are cloning humans, Esau,” Gabriel began, his hands clasped behind his back. “They’re keeping civilians alive and cloning them.”

  “Damn,” Esau whistled. “Was that what you found in that research building?”

  “Yeah, but one of the civilians we rescued confirmed it,” Gabriel replied. “They’re keeping civilians alive. You know what that means?”

  “Uh...no?”

  “She could be alive, Esau,” Gabriel breathed, hope flaring in his heart for the first time in months. “She could have survived the attack on Ptolemy. I found a clause that can give me command of a fleet, and I’m going to use it to go to Ptolemy.”

  “What the fuck?” Esau stood up, confused. “I thought you said she was dead?”

  “She could be alive!”

  “Wait, slow down,” Esau said. “Why would you do this?”

  “What?”

  “Risk your neck for someone who may be alive?”

  “Because I love her!”

  “Okay, fine,” Esau changed his tone. “What clause are you talking about?”

  “When I was recruited, they mentioned a clause in the Wraith command charter which could allow a Wraith commander to take control of the ship,” Gabriel explained. “I thought it was the usual recruiting bull but I found it. There is a law allowing for it to happen, and I have the power to invoke casus primus dux. Since I’m commander, I wouldn’t do it normally, but now I have a reason.”

  “Invoke what?”

  “Cause for supreme command,” Gabriel translated. “Or supreme leader, whatever. It’s a mangled translation. But it gives me temporary command of a vessel or fleet until the Emperor rescinds the order. The invoker of the clause gets punished by death, but it doesn’t matter. She could be alive, Esau. We can find her. We can save her.”

  “Omelet, I can’t support you in this one,” Esau stated. “Not blindly. Not this time.”

  “Why not?” Gabriel asked. “You’ve always had my back.”

  “And I have it now,” Esau said.

  “Then why won’t you help me save her?”

  “She’s probably dead, Omelet.”

  “But she could be alive. Esau, I don’t understand. Why can’t you have any hope? Why won’t you have faith in this?”

  “Because sometimes I think a lot of us wished we had been killed before we were born!” Esau exploded, throwing his hands into the air. “You wouldn’t know because you weren’t discovered until later. You don’t know what it’s like to grow up as the unwanted mistake, the genetically inferior child, the boy who caused your family to be poor. I thank God every day my parents had enough money I didn’t need to be dumped in one of the Holding Homes until I was of age. Ask Markus what those places are like sometime, Gabe. Where the unwanted are just dumped. Imperfects don’t have rights because we’re not good enough. We’re not like the rest of society. We’re a burden. We’re broken.”

  “Bullshit,” Gabriel growled. “Sophie taught me different.”

  “Sophie is one of them!” Esau reminded him. “She’s not one of us! She can afford to say that because she’s one of them, our better. Your better! And now you want to risk your life, our lives, this ship, on the possibility she could be alive?”

  “She was better than that. Is better. And yes, I do.”

  “Please, Gabe, just think about it. Think about what you’re suggesting.”

  “I’m done thinking about it.”

  “Then talk to Markus.”

  “What?” Gabriel looked at his friend, surprised.

  “Talk to Markus,” Esau repeated. “Markus can explain it better. He can tell you the horrors of lying awake at night, hearing the older boys beat on the younger, the girls screaming because of what was happening to them...and nobody doing anything. But you know what they say afterwards, after they get out, after the wounds heal and the scars fade? They are glad to still be alive.”

  “Nobody thinks like that,” Gabriel snarled, his fists clenched. “Nobody can exist like that!”

  “Talk. To. Markus.”

  “Fuck you!”

  “If you talk to Markus, and afterwards you still want to do this, then I’ll watch your back,” Esau said, his voice calm as he stared down the murderous rage building in his friend. “I’ll have your back all the way. If you don’t talk to him, then I’m not supporting you in this.”

  “Fine,” Gabriel conceded, heat fading from his voice, anger redirected. He looked around. “Where is he?”

  “His bunk.”

  “He’s not going to change my mind.”

  Esau turned his back on his best friend. “Then we cross that bridge when we get there.”

  “Asshole,” Gabriel muttered as he walked away.

  #

  Markus was in his bunk as Esau had promised, his eyes closed. Gabriel knocked on the metal frame.

  “Hey,” Gabriel said, not sure how to broach the subject. “How’re you?”

  “For my first time in actual combat, not too bad,” Markus admitted. “How’re you doing?”

  “Weird,” Gabriel admitted. “It hasn’t sunk in yet, I think.”

  “I don’t think you’re right for the Wraith Corps, Gabriel,” Markus suddenly said, shocking Gabriel.

  “Why not?”

  “You think too much,” Markus explained. “Most Wraiths, most Imperfects, just react. You don’t. You plan, you think, you have...what’s the word when you have plans for plans?”

  “Contingencies?”


  “Right,” Markus nodded. “You have those. Not many Imperfects have backup plans. You do. It’s because you were diagnosed later.”

  “Yeah, it ruined my life,” Gabriel admitted.

  “Naw, it gave you a chance at a life before taking it away,” Markus said. “You had a chance to enjoy life, not just survive it.”

  “I guess,” Gabriel shrugged. “Can you do me a favor?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Tell me what it was like in the Holding Homes.”

  Markus was quiet for a moment before he answered. “Hell. It was pure hell. Nothing could compare to it.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Not your fault,” Markus stated. “But it was rough. There were times...”

  “Times like what?”

  “That you wished you’d never been born in the first place,” Markus admitted.

  “Would you...tell me about one of those times?”

  “Why the interest?”

  “Esau won’t support my attempt at taking over this ship unless you and I talked. I think–”

  “Wait,” Markus held up a hand, interrupting him. What the fuck do you mean, ‘taking over the ship’?”

  “I found a rule that lets me take control of the ship.”

  “Why the hell would you do that?

  “I have a pretty good suspicion that she is still alive.”

  “Who the fuck is ‘she’?”

  “Sophie. The girl I joined the Wraiths for.”

  “The girl who went to Ptolemy after you were diagnosed?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Huh. Well. Okay, you want to know specifics...It was in the middle of the day the first time I was raped,” Markus said, lying on his back and staring at the bunk above him. “I was nine. It was an older boy, almost an adult. Most of the older kids worked in the produce fields, but he was sick and didn’t go that day. It meant he would miss dinner. We younger kids still had to earn our keep, but the older kids sometimes made us give them our meals so they wouldn’t go hungry. It wasn’t always bad, because sometimes that older kid would be like a schild, a protector of sorts. The younger kids would flock to the bigger kids, who would watch out for us in exchange for desserts and food.