“There is no need for an explanation, Valinquint. You saved my life. I am not angry with you. But that does not change the fact that I am curious as to why you allowed her to lend her hand.”
“She had something I wanted, and in exchange for her life, she gave it to me—information, valuable data that she recovered from the private communications device we found on Anahk. I will share the details with you later, when we are alone and in a safe location.”
“Secrecy, Drahkori? Must be something special,” Levian whispered. “But I know that need for knowledge was not the only reason you let her in, put your trust in her.”
“She disarmed herself when she saw me. She presented no fear and posed no threat. I let her live, I let her save you while I sat there—useless and unable to help, and for that I feel shame.”
“Do not. I know the laws of your species, and if you were currently operating under those laws I am sure you would be punished. You have also violated the rule of the Royal Empire by engaging in friendly conversation with a human. However, there is one flaw within these regulations, and that flaw is that you cannot be found guilty unless there was a witness to your crime; someone to confirm that it was you.” He paused to draw in a breath, then said with amusement, “In other words: your secret is safe with me.”
The sun had risen to its highest point in the sky by the time Alceta Squad reached the carrier’s crash site, and now that the light of day had illuminated every scratch and indentation in the ship’s hull, the true damage done to the once glorious vessel could be seen.
Kenon stepped down onto the damp ground and was followed closely by the Ship Commander, who landed awkwardly in the mud. He gathered himself quickly, refusing assistance, and then looked up at his ship with an expression of complete and utter dismay.
The Captain and the Major had already entered the carrier through the same tear in the hull that Kenon had used the night before, and within a few moments, he and the Ship Commander joined them.
Levian entered the bridge first, grabbing hold of a warped metal beam to steady himself, and looked around the room with violet eyes stretched wide. His gaze rested sorrowfully on the two warriors who’d been horrifically killed in the crash.
“I do hope the rest of my warriors made it out safely.” He clenched a fist to his chest. “They were a fine crew.” The Ship Commander made his way to the fore, leaned on the tilted arm of his throne and looked up at the main viewscreen; flickering with its scattered display of system statistics, ship schematics, and exterior camera feeds—all together in one large, cluttered image.
“After the carrier crashed . . .” Kenon approached the warrior and asked, “Why did you leave?”
“You were worried?” he sounded preoccupied.
“Curious.”
“I can honestly say that I do not recall much of last night’s events,” Levian admitted as he swiftly wiped his own blood from the console and activated the holographic interface, opening a communications channel. “Glorious in Victory, this is the commander of the Legacy of Night requesting assistance. We have crash-landed in the marshlands of Calypsis near the Terrak mountains. If you are receiving, please respond.” He slumped down in his crooked throne and leaned back to await a response.
Many minutes passed and no answer came. The Ship Commander began issuing orders, probably preparing a secondary plan in case Glorious in Victory was unable to aid them.
“Jherkin, get to the medical bay and pack three bags, take only what we may need. Major Katspara, armory. You are in charge of gathering ordnance—firearms, explosives, energy clips, and ammunition. Whatever you can carry in one trip. Kenon, make your way to the hangar, see if you can locate a working transport, preferably one that has not been too badly damaged. I shall remain here, and if Glorious in Victory has failed to respond to my call by the time the three of you return, then we will leave.”
Eventually the young warrior found his way down—or rather up—to the hangar. It was a hard trek, not so much because of the upward tilt of the floor, but because of the sheer amount of breaks in the corridors. Heavy crates tipped over on their sides and strips of metal sticking out from the walls obstructed the path. Loose cords spilled out of the ceiling, dangled in his way and spat sparks at him.
When at last he reached the hangar, the entrance was blocked by vehicles that’d come loose from their magnetic holds. Kenon had been forced to clamber through a dropship to get in. Once he’d reached the top of the wreckage, he examined the long, rounded bay.
The shield doors on either side of the room flashed on and off, and most of the holding mechanisms appeared to be inoperative. It seemed that all those that were still functional held transports that were beyond repair—all except for one.
There was a dropship locked into the wall to the right, probably about fifteen feet above the floor. Its armor plates were scratched, but apart from that it seemed to be in good condition.
Kenon jumped down from his perch and landed hard on the floor panels, almost falling backward as sharp pains shot through his ankles.
Usually there would be a warrior standing by to activate the gravity lifts from the hangar’s command station—but with crew having either been killed in the crash or scattered throughout the marshland, Kenon would have to find his own way inside.
He inspected the underside of the dropship and saw six magnetic clamps the size of his fist. These clamps were often used to carry vehicles down to the surface of planets or to deliver ordnance to troops stationed on the ground. In the center of these holds was the hatchway—which, conveniently, had been left unsealed.
Kenon retreated up the slope a few meters, then sprinted forward and pushed off the floor, outstretching his arms. He managed to grab onto one of the clamps closest to the opening and struggled for a moment, then climbed into the cabin.
Entering the cockpit, he took the seat in front of the command console and tried to recall his training. On Si-Gheila he’d been put through a number of flight simulations, but now that he actually needed to put that training to use, he couldn’t seem to remember any of it. He decided to try the first thing that came to mind.
Kenon placed his hand on a black panel directly in front of him. The controls lit up across the command console, the central viewscreen flickered into being, and the young warrior was delighted to hear the low whine of the engines flaring to life at his touch.
Satisfied, he headed back to the bridge.
He strode through the doors and saw that his squadmates had already returned with weapons and medical sacks in tow, and by the lack of conversation he assumed that there had been no reply from Glorious in Victory.
“There is a dropship in the hangar,” Kenon reported. “It has taken minor damage to its hull, but is otherwise operational.”
The Ship Commander stood and nodded to the Drahkori. “Good work,” he said. “Captain Jherkin, bring the dropship around. Once you have done that, Valinquint and Katspara will load the supplies and we can move.”
“Where will we go?” the large warrior asked.
“There is a Drocain encampment hidden in an alcove on the eastern side of the Terrak Mountains. Those of my crew who remain alive would have sought shelter there.”
“What am I to do with Lithe?” Kenon asked as the Khael’hin exited the bridge. “There is no way to get her inside the dropship, and even if we could, I doubt her sanity would survive the journey.”
“I say we leave that disgrace behind,” Suro growled, lifting two silver cases. “It grew up in this bog, I’m sure it would be fine if you put it back where you found it.”
Kenon held his tongue, waited until the dark warrior left before he spoke again. “. . . How far away is the camp from here?”
“I would say no more than twenty kilometers,” the Ship Commander said; then with a more thoughtful tone, he asked, “What are you thinking?”
“I will ride with Lithe and meet you at the hideout. I should arrive in about three and a half hours, give or
take—it would depend on the conditions of the path I travel.” He was well aware that he and his companion may encounter humans along the way, but he simply could not leave her here.
“The humans circulate patrols through these marshes every hour. They have marked borders that we cannot detect without the proper equipment. If you step over those markers, they will find you.”
“This is a human colony world. I have already made the assumption that no matter where I go I will always be in danger. Correct me if I am wrong, but the Terrak Mountains themselves reside within these border markers, do they not?”
“Yes, that is right. But the mountains are treacherous and the warriors there have the upper ground, giving them an advantage over any humans who walk those paths.” Levian walked past the young warrior and stepped out of the bridge onto the jagged rim of the hole. “If you wish to join us before nightfall, I suggest you leave now. You must allow yourself plenty of time.” He twisted his neck and looked at Kenon. “Heed my warning, warrior, or you are as good as dead.”
Chapter
———SEVEN———
0700 Hours, December 02, 2438 (Earth Calendar) / Hornet’s Nest Military base, planet Calypsis
“So what you’re saying is that those monsters wouldn’t even be out there if it weren’t for a stupid action carried out at your command?” Lieutenant Knoble had been standing here arguing with the Sergeant Major since the crack of dawn, and most of what came out of the man’s mouth were poor excuses to avoid taking the blame.
The story Shepherd told him was this:
In 2434, he’d sent five squadrons out to sedate and capture several animals; brought to Calypsis by a Jahoran specialist team as a means to transport goods across the difficult marshland terrain.
The mission was a success. Shepherd’s men returned the following day with all six beasts in tow, locked them away in one large cell, and celebrated their triumph with good beer and loud music.
It wasn’t until four months later that Shepherd had seen his mistake.
Whilst stealing those animals had slowed the Drocain, it had also turned the focus of the Jahoran onto the Hornet’s Nest, and by the time they infiltrated the base, the creatures had already crossbred. The Empire reclaimed their stolen transports and left the hybrid offspring to roam freely about the swamps.
Now these half-bloods—these tyliven—were out of control. They ruled the marshland in packs, attacking any who strayed too far into their territory.
Knoble had asked why the UNPD didn’t simply shoot the beasts on sight. Shepherd explained that, due to wildlife preservation protocols pushed by Bureau of Scientific Investigations, the only acceptable reason for killing the animals was self defense.
“That is . . . correct, Lieutenant,” Shepherd confirmed uncomfortably. “It was a grave mistake. I would take it back if I could.”
“I lost a man out there today to that half-breed, and Lieutenant Reynolds almost lost his entire team! I also heard Echo Team was attacked. My stepdaughter was with them and, in case you didn’t know, Sergeant, she’s still somewhere out there!” Knoble’s fists were clenched, knuckles white.
“Listen, Knoble, I’m very sorry, but we have done all we can. You’ll just have to keep your eyes and ears open—that’s all the help I can give you.” Sergeant Shepherd was becoming impatient, his brow furrowed in frustration.
Lieutenant Knoble folded his arms and unclenched his jaw. “Is there anyone here who hasn’t been made aware of the tyliven threat?”
“No. It was just you and your team,” Shepherd assured him. “Reynolds and Jenkinson knew very well that they were in danger if they ventured out there in the dark—not that it’s much safer during the day. They were unlucky; simple as that. Now . . .” The man stood straighter and clasped his hands together. “Why don’t you go grab yourself a coffee and calm down? I’m in charge of this facility and while you’re running around on my turf I expect to see some respect.”
Knoble opened his mouth, ready to give the Sergeant a sharp retort, but before he could get a word out he caught sight of his stepdaughter as she strolled through the gates of the Hornet’s Nest. Her hands were blue and the only weapon she had on her was a sidearm.
“What happened to you?” Knoble asked as she drew closer, relieved to see that she was okay. She had a few small tears in her uniform and a scratch on her cheek. Other than that she appeared to be fine.
She gave him a confused look, then glanced down at her hands and murmured distractedly. “Um, I-I got into a tangle with a Drocain warrior on my way back here. I’m fine, though.”
Her words sounded truthful, but the Lieutenant noticed she was avoiding eye contact.
She really wasn’t a good liar.
Alana was quick to pick up on his suspicion, and she looked at him with urgency in her eyes, then jerked her head in Sergeant Shepherd’s direction a couple of times as if to say, “I can’t tell you anything while he’s here.”
“I’ll go grab that coffee now,” Knoble said to Shepherd.
The Sergeant nodded his head slowly and after he walked off, Knoble put a hand to his stepdaughter’s back. He had been about to take her away from the crowds and over to a quiet corner, but she grabbed his arm and stopped him.
“I can’t talk to you in here—I need to speak with you somewhere else, somewhere private.” She looked around anxiously. “. . . Away from all of these other people. It’s important.”
Knoble decided to take Alana to the temporary sleeping quarters he’d been given for the duration of his stay at the Hornet’s Nest. They could talk privately there, away from prying eyes and eavesdroppers.
No bigger than a studio apartment, the room was simple, white-walled with a few lights running around the edge of the ceiling. To the right was a bed draped in cream-colored covers, and beside it was a wooden nightstand topped with a lamp that looked like a silver lily.
The only personal touch was a holo-photo frame—a keepsake of the life he’d had before all of this alien-human bullshit threw him back into the chaos of war. Knoble had carried the small trinket with him for nearly twenty years.
He leaned against the wall opposite the bed and watched Alana sit down on the side of the mattress, hands in her lap as she massaged her bloodstained palm with her thumb. She was tense—her stare fixed on the floor, deep in thought.
“Have you heard any rumors about a private comms device on Anahk lately?” she asked.
“Yes,” Knoble said, “I got orders straight from Admiral Anderson to go and grab the thing from someplace in Masahi City. But shit happened and we lost it to the Drocain. I think I overheard Sergeant Shepherd earlier, saying it was on the Legacy of Night?”
“The carrier my team went out to investigate, yeah.” Alana shrugged her backpack off and pulled out a battered metal box that looked like someone had taken a hammer to it. “Found it in one of the corridors not too far away from the bridge. I don’t know if the Drocain managed to get anything out of it.”
“Any idea what’s on it?” Knoble asked.
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, actually. Because, even though I know I wasn’t supposed to, I listened to one of the transmissions on it, and I’m a little worried. I don’t know what to think of this, but . . .” Alana continued on to reveal her findings, told him what she’d heard on the device and explained how she had been able to connect it to a number of stories she’d heard floating around the base as of late.
Lieutenant Knoble had always chosen to ignore the rumors, always pushed them to the back of his mind and waited for them to fade away as all rumors did, but now it seemed some of them were true and he hadn’t a clue how to react. He would never have imagined that something like this was really going on, and he certainly never would have believed that any humans could be cooperating with Drocain—that was downright insane.
This “Calypsis Project” had to be pretty damn big and important to pull that off.
“I don’t know what to tell you,” he
said.
“And I’m stumped on what to do about this! I was hoping you could help me out, maybe pass the news on to someone higher up,” Alana said discontentedly. “I mean, your mission was to retrieve the PCU, right? Well, now we have it. You could contact the Admiral and tell him exactly what I told you—only tell it like you heard it first.”
“I wasn’t told to listen to what was on the stupid thing, Alana! I was ordered to hand the device over to somebody else so they could deliver it to Anderson. It was never my job to take it to his doorstep.”
“What if we had more evidence that the Calypsis Project is real? It’s not like you could get into any trouble for listening to what’s on that thing if you had some solid proof to show for it! This could be vital to the war!”
“And where the hell do you suppose we’d go to gather more intel, huh? It doesn’t sound like we have a whole lot of time on our hands and we can’t just go wandering around the planet asking people about it, now can we?”
“BSI. BSI could help us.”
“Okay, wrong road. If you tell the Bureau of Scientific Investigations what you heard and they think it needs to be kept away from the public, they could lock you up and make you disappear.”
“Well what else can we do then? This is why I came to you, Lance! I thought you could tell me where I was supposed to take this information, but instead you want me to keep quiet about it? I can’t do that. If you can’t help, then I’ll have to wait and see if I hear from—” She stopped herself short and bit her lip, turning her head away. She reached up and twisted her hair around her fingers. It was a nervous habit she’d had for years and Knoble had seen it plenty of times.
Now he knew for certain she was hiding something.
“What aren’t you telling me?” he questioned.
“Nothing! I told you everything!”
“Funny, ‘cause your blue hands say different.”
“I already said—”
The Calypsis Project Page 10